Monday, April 7, 2008
this morning it happened again. perhaps i was too engross in reading my book that i actually shut out all other thoughts.
just outside commonwealth station, i suddenly had that same feeling of peace again, as though everything that happened after chinese new year never happened. and at that moment, i thought of the little details about some things, it seem almost absurd and i'll be asking myself, 'did that really happen? impossible!'
many people think of stress as a stalker or a silent killer, all the while beside you, waiting for the opportune moment to stab you in the heart. that sounds scary i know. but for me, the scary part about it is not knowing you are under stress, or not even having the time to be stressed at all. the workload just piled up to the extent i want to shut out everything. and when something happened to you, psychologically or physiologically, you have no idea how it happened and what happen. and for a while you'll be searching for the answer, and it's actually right in front of you spelt 's-t-r-e-s-s'...
but i guess i'm glad to be that way, not knowing i'm in stress, it reduces the pressure of it by itself. then again, the bad thing about it is i'll tend to solve each problem one by one, and every single one.
imagine being stuck in a room with flies all around. which would you choose? flinging your arms around hoping to take down several flies all at one time, or focus on hitting one at a time to ensure a higher rate of 'bull's eye'?
for me it's the latter. every fly that flies near me is a problem that creates an itch and irritation no matter how fat or small that fly is. it is a problem, no matter how you look at it. and it must be resolved because many a time people fail at the most crucial moment due to a small problem that they failed to resolve that leads to ultimate destruction. there's always an explanation to everything, and everything can be analysed.
but as i rode on the train, at buona vista station, seeing those handsome guys get off and heading to NUS, and cursing and swearing in my head why there ain't any getting off at clementi, i realise that, we must accept that in this world, there are things that can't be explained, things that don't have to be explained.
being critical is good in a way a it solves problem from many perspectives and at a point avoid potential misjudgement. but being over critical is never good, as it makes the individual stressed in the sense that there's so many things to be resolved, and everything must be done perfectly.
i always believed that the world is in a balance, and we must always achieve balance in our lives in order to survive. so the opposite of being critical is to escape all that crap and just take things as they are, or wave it away with suaveness.
and at clementi station, looking around and seeing there were no handsome guys getting off but sitting in seats waiting for their stop at boon lay, i found that all those thoughts and details that were in my head that i found to be absurd that it happened after chinese new year were all garbage, if i were to stop trying to convince myself that it did happen and explain it. after all, it's none of my business.
which brings me to a point where i keep asking myself. am i running a helpline here? take a look at this semester, since we are approaching the end. have i done something for myself? no! everything is about teacher this teacher that, mummie this mummie that, daddie this daddie that, and friends this friends that. i have lost count of the number of times i put down my school work to solve something totally unrelated to sim or ub or school stuff. and when i return back to all these, yes now i'll use that word, stress, i ask myself 'why did i do that'?
dont' get me wrong, i enjoy helping people. it's something inculcated in me by my mummie since young that we live to serve others. but being self-centered by nature or nurture, i always ask myself 'i help others, but who's going to help me when i'm in trouble'?
everytime that happens, or when my mummie do something that benefit the others but get stabbed in the process, i'll shout 'be selfish for once for hell's sake'.
but everytime i set my mind to be that, when i see people in trouble, regardless of the magnitude of the problem, i'll still reach out to help whether or not they asked, or they wanted help or not.
it feels good after helping someone. i return home, thinking about what i did that made someone's day, in a way it makes me happy for the person. yes it might be what people say 'happiness is contagious' or was it laughter? doesn't matter.
but here's the catch. i sit down in my chair and 'look' at the mountainous load of work that awaits me, the cycle returns to starting point.
that brings me back to my point. there are some things that shouldn't be said, considering the characteristics and magnitude of an issue. on the other hand, there are some things that should automatically be said without prompt.
but i guess, the ultimate resolution to this angst-ness that i feel these days regarding that matter is to be oblivious for once, escape all the process of finding explanations, most of all, be selfish for once for my own sake.
again it just means it's always my fault isn't it? i am the one who ultimately screwed up big time. yes i can blame it on people, but when i link it further, it's still my fault.
if i had exercised self-control and management, i wouldn't have screwed up that badly for the A's.
if i hadn't showed up for that day and just skipped out of it, pretend to mourn for my dead grandmother, the session wouldn't involve 4 people, with a piano, flute and guitar, and an unfinished song.
and i wouldn't have talked to him.
and if i hadn't told anyone i had a flute at home and i can play it, i wouldn't be in the performance in the first place. i certainly wouldn't be playing piano, since it is a fact that my piano skills are not as fantastic. i wouldn't be in any special performance. i'll just be like everybody else. play with the ensemble and get on with life.
but something struck me yesterday when i googled my name. i found some things that i probably never hear people say in real life. it somehow changed my impression of them suddenly.
and then i wondered, all of the things i've done, perhaps they weren't for naught after all.
and if i were to stop thinking too much into a matter, i might be a little bit more happy.
and if i were to escape a bit more, i might be able to survive better...
