Isolated thoughts

Month: June, 2016

I am amazingly unfit

I made a really stupid mistake today.

Usually, I try my best to plan my trips on public transport using an app beforehand. That was exactly what I did today for my journey to the airport as I am flying home. Being a real nutcase I purposely chose not to hop onto a waiting bus that would bring me to the train station for my train. Instead, I chose to wait for the bus that was stated in the app. Little did I know, that asshole didn’t turn up. Hence, I started panicking and immediately took the next bus which was a little later. I kept checking my phone for the time, hoping that I would be able to catch the train at 3.32pm.

I reached the station at 3.30pm and ran with my heavy backpack down towards the train. I saw the doors shut close whilst I was on the last flight of stairs and thought “I am so screwed.” To piss myself off even further, the train left at 3.31pm, a minute earlier than scheduled. I threw down my backpack and waited for 5 minutes for the next train, berating myself for my idiocy whilst pondering the possibility of catching the 3.55pm bus to the airport from Elizabeth Quay.

If I had caught the train I was supposed to, I would’ve reached at 3.45pm and had 10 minutes to stroll to the bus port and to the bus. Instead, I now had 5 minutes to do so, which was a tight squeeze because Perth has pretty unpredictable public transport and I was so so so burdened by my backpack. To make things more complicated, I desperately had to pee (damn the weather and that lovely green tea).

I ran for my life out of the train station and reached the bus port at 3.51pm. I took the chance and peed (without washing my hands) and sprinted down to the awaiting bus at 3.53pm. I made it. But it’s still a harrowing experience. I would supposedly reach the airport at 4.42pm, which gives me about 1.5 hours before my 6.35pm flight. Even so, I really hope that I have time to scoff down a cheap hungry jack’s meal before the flight because I would only reach Singapore at 11.45pm and I hope my to die starving on the cold plane. I didn’t even choose my seat because that would cost me $6 more. If I had missed this bus, the next would have been at 4.25pm, which means that I would arrive at 5.12pm which gives me barely any time at all and cuts it way too close. Thank goodness for frequent train times and my legs. Thank you legs for carrying me to the bus port in time for the bus.

My calves are cramping and my soles are so cold. My neck is damn strained as well. Damn you public transport. But hey, what a way to start the trip back home.

Being completely off the grid and unable to even make an emergency phone call made the entire trip more fun.

I have quite a few Disney movies on my laptop. Looks like that’s what the flight back would consist of. I cannot wait to be cuddling Hun bun in the comfort of my home. I wonder if she still remembers me. I really hope that she does.

Dark nights

I would miss this carefree bunch. Freedom is enjoying the weekend markets and splurging on ice cream waffles on a drizzly afternoon. It is taking the train through the storm and running through the rain to catch a bus to the middle of nowhere for halal maccas the night before finals begin. It is the feeling of peace and mutual understanding, a comfortable silence as we take another long ride home. Comfort is striding home in the cold; a comfortable chilliness where the loss of heat fuels the warmth inside. It is coming home soaked to the bone but knowing that warmth awaits. It is the feeling of being present after a night like this whilst nursing a hot cup of tea, restless and recharged for the days to come.

I have never felt more alive. Thank you.

Catharsis

Finals are starting in a couple of days which means a couple of things:

  1. Its going to be over in 8 days
  2. I am going home in 2 weeks’ time
  3. I have officially completed the first semester of my degree, with 11 more of these across 4.5 more years before I graduate and become a vet hehe

The thing that I’ve been struggling with the most in recent times is with what I feel of home. Having moved abroad and experienced life in another place, I’ve been debating the pros and cons of life in Singapore and where I am. I am not adverse to extending my stay; yet I miss home dearly. I miss the comfort and familiarity of my home, my fast-ageing dog, the convenience of getting around and the food. I probably miss the people and the life that I had built back home. It was comforting having a support net and an easy route. This is not to say that I don’t feel at home here; I do. But I really do want to treasure what I have before I throw myself into my studies and my work. I don’t know if I will be going home that often in the later years. I don’t even know if my dog will remember me or be around when I finally get back. But I’m pursuing a dream – isn’t that worth these sacrifices in the end? 

I will be 24 when I graduate, a year older and a year or two later than many of my peers. I’m afraid of being left behind. It is inevitable, I suppose, as I am on a different road and I was a little slower deciding to take a chance. But this is eons better than being stuck going through the motions of a double degree that I found mundane in a field that I am mediocre at. Some days I really question the relentless chase of getting a degree. Is it relevant and necessary? Can I touch my heart and say that I genuinely WANT to study? Will I feel extremely self-fulfilled at the end of this journey? I really do think and hope so. 

I’m feeling quite stressed out because I’ve been struggling to study and I have 3 days of consecutive papers which sucks. Now I know that I will definitely ace one paper, but I still worry about not hitting the mark (aka getting a HD) for my other subjects. Call me an asshole but yes, GPA is important to me. The fact that I’m paying so much for my education has made the stakes so high. This isn’t even considering the pressure of having to do well because everyone else is fighting for a spot in my course. I feel threatened and afraid that I’m not keeping up or as desperate as them. I’m assured of my coveted spot but I worry about making it through the years because yes, people do actually drop out along the way. I don’t think anyone can truly understand this fear – thousands are being paid for every single unit and I cannot fail. I literally cannot afford to – not when so much is being invested into my (and collectively, my family’s) future. It doesn’t help that I’m the eldest. First child syndrome sucks. 

You, reader, might perceive me as lucky for being able to pursue my dreams. But you do not feel the palpable tension in the air in every single class, the frustration of managing expenses and investments, nor the desperation of needing to make it through these five years alive. I do not regret my decision to take this path. I just really needed to express all the things that have been plaguing my mind. Every single time I cannot recall a word, I panic. Even something small like the spelling of a word stresses me out. I fear not being good enough. But I need to give myself credit – for being one of the 30 who got in from all over the world. Am I not worthy of my spot and more than capable of getting through this?

I am. I would know the amount of effort I had put in before my A level exams and to get to where I am today. I would know the hours spent crying because I felt worthless and useless for not being able to get into a course I could have settled for in Singapore. I had gone through hell and more, convinced that I was lacking and worthless with a bleak future despite having a string of As that I thought would have opened the door.

I cannot be more grateful for having had to go through all that last year. I have survived 100% of my worst days so far, what are a few thousand more?