whimsical reality

To all those who I’ve ever made fun of, or made feel like there’s something wrong with you, I’m sorry.

For those of you who don’t know me, I think it’s fairly safe to say that I’m not a mean person, nor have I openly bullied anyone before. I have never physically struck nor threatened anyone before. Heck, I don’t even post about my personal grievances on FB. I am, at the risk of sounding completely narcissistic, a Really Nice Guy. So what am I apologizing for?

Given the recent spate of GLTB suicides in the US, the focus on teen bullying and now in Singapore with the focus on youth gangs, I’ve been thinking back to my teen years.

If my life was a movie, it would be at this point where you would see flashback of the nerdy protagonist being bullied and pushed into lockers. Well that’s never happened to me, partly cause Singapore secondary schools generally don’t have big lockers, and if anything, I was Really Nice to everyone. I was never teased despite my Nerd heritage neither was I a wallflower. I didn’t shy away from public speaking and even then, I knew that if I could make you laugh, you’d like me. Even now, if the situation calls for it, I can charm and do my “social skills judo” in most groups.

All in all, I had a somewhat trauma-free teen years. But during those times, I never felt really comfortable with myself. I always flitted between social groups and while I had friends, I hardly had any Friends. Even with the people who I hung out with during those times, I always had a joke or a laugh and I used that humor and wit to keep people at arm’s length. It was terrifying to let anyone really know who I was and why I was so different. It was a time where I hated who I was, so how could I let anyone close enough to really know me?

It was from this really deep-seated low self-esteem that I did terrible things. Don’t get me wrong, as I mentioned earlier, I was Mr Nice Guy, always a quick smile and a joke in hand. And it humor and wit that I hurt others, even if it was indirect. I was so desperate to be liked by whichever group came along that whoever they hated and laughed at, I laughed at along with them. If my group made fun of that sad and awkward girl with bad breath, I’d be cracking them up with a joke. In my defense, I never did laugh in their face.

So what is the point of me writing about it here if the person I laughed at probably has no idea I did it? Well, in making those jokes, I helped foster the alienation of another person. When we laugh at another person, the chief reason why we do it is to make ourselves feel better at ourselves.

When you laugh at the girl who can’t stand in front of a class and talk without a stutter, you’re trying to make yourself feel better about how wonderfully confident and eloquent you are.
When you laugh at the ah-kuay (effeminate boy), you’re trying to make yourself feel better about your own masulinity
When you laugh at the conservative girl who’s deeply religious, you’re trying make yourself feel better about your own “enlightened” life philosophy
When you laugh at the “slut” in your class, you’re trying to make yourself feel better about your “righteousness”

When you laugh at anyone different, you’re trying to make yourself feel better by putting down someone else

Even now, I do cross the line of “laughing-with” and “laughing-at”. It can come across as small things, like pushing a joke too far or rolling my eyes when a certain housemate asked whether it’s ok to leave the spoon in the microwave (I’m not going to name names, but you know who you are).

So for everyone who I’ve ever made fun of and laughed at, I apologize. It is not that there’s something wrong with you, but it was me who was too insecure in my own skin that I had to put you down to feel better about myself. I felt terribly alone, awkward, full of self-hate growing up and I made fun of you to feel better instead of realizing you were probably just as lonely and scared as I was.

And I’m sure that everyone who’s read this far is guilty, to some degree, of doing this too. So the next time you’re out with your friends and they starting laughing about that weird new guy in class or that new colleague who has zero style-sense, have the courage to shut up. Resist the urge to go along with everyone else and put that person down. Instead, take a little time and get to know that person. This world is divided and full of hate as it is, don’t keep adding to that.

Not to preach, but I find that this verse is what we need in this time

Matthew 5:43-47
“You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you ... If you love those who love you, what reward will you get? ... And if you greet only your own people, what are you doing more than others?”

And to all those teens (and older) out there who are still trying to struggle to find yourself, just know this. It really does get better. The world is a lot bigger than you realize and the day will come where you find people who will love you for you, but you got to keep going till you get there. To quote from one of my favorite comics of all time, V for Vendetta

“I hope that the world turns and that things get better. But what I hope most of all is that you understand what I mean when I tell you that even though I do not know you, and even though I may never meet you, laugh with you, cry with you, or kiss you, I love you. With all my heart, I love you”

Peace and Love All
-Ian

On Sunday, 29 August 2010, I got a phone call from my mother at roughly 1pm. She was crying with the kind of wracking sobs that could only mean something terrible has happened. And the only thing I could do was wait for her to tell me what had happened, and more importantly, to who.

She said there was some kind of accident that had taken place involving my Aunt Jac, whom I called Jac Yee Yee. I could not make out exactly where she said the accident took place, in Laos? Labuan? and that somehow an oil tanker was involved. My Mum asked me to get in touch with my cousins here in Australia to pass on the news and to pray for her.

I called Philip and Kelwin, who were thankfully, if there is anything to be thankful about, together in Melbourne at the time that I called. The moment Philip picked up, I could hear him about to break into his usual hokkien swearing as a form of greeting. I quickly cut him off and told him that there was an accident involving Jac Yee Yee and that I would get back to them ASAP once I got more details.

For the next 2 hours, I got a few more phone calls from the cousins and mum, who filled me in that it took place in Lawas (3 hours outside of Borneo into Sarawak), and that “they” were still trying to get Jac Yee Yee out of the car. I prayed and waited and prayed. This was my Jac Yee Yee, mighty adventurer, rocking bassist, loving aunt, a woman who sought God, the indestructible Jac Yee Yee. This was the woman who brought us up mountains, took us into caves, drove the boat to beaches and trekked with us through the forrest.

I imagined that she was just in the hospital, injured but fine. I prayed that all that had happened was that the car would be gone and that I’d talk to her over the phone at night to talk to her.

At about 3pm, Kelwin called me back. Jac Yee Yee had passed away.

As I’m writing this just slightly over 24 hours since it happened, it still does not seem terribly real. I’ve had moments where the sense of loss hits me so hard, I have to stop and cry my eyes out. But the next moment, I’m fine again. A part of me still imagines that she’d be telling the story of her escape from a harrowing car crash. She’d be doing this during Christmas dinner at the end of the long table in the Rimba house with her foot propped up on the long bench, while Philip or Uncle Hock is playing the guitar.

But that is never going to happen. I want to celebrate her life and the stories she gave each and ever one of us, but for now, I can only mourn the fact that there will be no more new memories with her. No more dinners, no more adventures, no more dirty jokes and no more jamming sessions.

I know that she is in a better place and that she’s with our savior and the family that went before us, but she leaves behind a huge hole in my family.

I’m thankful that I have 4 incredible housemates to help me through this. Zah, Joyce, Zeema and Yaya took care of me while I tried to hold it all together, and for that, I will eternally be grateful for them. More than that, I have to thank Mark, who I could talk to all the way back in Singapore and who helped me look after my mum while I’m here in Perth. He spent the day with her, making sure my mum went to see the doc to make sure she’s ok to fly and generally keeping me updated on everyone back home today. He really is God-sent during this time and my family will always welcome him to our home.

I also have received kind words from many friends, too many to name and tag here, and if I have left anyone out, please don’t take offense. I really do appreciate every word and it has helped me cope with the sudden loss.

The family will be coming back to Brunei to say our farewells, and if there is any consolation in this is that we’re coming together as a family again, something Jac Yee Yee also held dear.

Mark, Zee, Squish, Ya Ya, Joyce and I at the beach. One of those days you wished would never end.

So, i return once again to my age-old question. Do I start a Journal?

I probably have had a zillion half-written journals out there, including random blog posts and livejournal, but I’ve never really managed to stick to one. It’s probably because

a) Even in journalling, i feel a need to self-censor and “PR” it
b) I REALLY don’t like to confront my own feelings
c) I’m lazy as heck to update my own life
d) On some level, I always think “what will people think if I wrote this?”
e) I can be a total perfectionist at times
f) I can’t stand people being whiny or needy, so I can’t stand myself being whiny or needy
g) I always wonder, if it’s myself I’m writing too, why bother to even write it down if I know myself?
h) I’m ashamed to write down and create, somewhere, all the insanely deepest, darkest things I’ve done. (OMG, the thought of even putting it down in a locked journal almost gives me an anxiety attack.)

So why do I still keep coming back to the idea of writing a journal?

I guess a part of me still needs to talk to someone who isn’t real. A part of me needs to be heard even if it’s just a random stranger, or just the clack of my own keyboard.

Maybe it’s my love of the written word, and my own need to create something.

I dunno.

But here goes again.

Goodnight.

Test #2

This is a test of a new programme! Ignore!

So, as part of the iPlan 2009, I've picked up my pencil again and this year, i'm going to try to move from doodles to proper sketches and stuff (you can only draw so many spirals and trees before you want to tackle more difficult stuff).

As part of that, i really really want to learn how to sketch faces (i can handle most other parts, but faces always elude me). I know using a grid is cheating, but hey, i gotta start somewhere.

And points to anyone who can guess who they are!

Have started the habit of journalling more often again, but recently have been a lot more graphic than texty...

anyway just thought i'd post a few up here

From the night me & mark was chilling with vanessa at her school

From Random Sketches

Oh vey, a stressed out stream of conscious entry during last year's fashion show

From Random Sketches

cuz love hurts, but is sooo worth it

From Random Sketches

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For those who aren't mac users, here's a great reason to switch. I just installed iPhoto '09, with FACE RECOGNITION SOFTWARE!


Basically, it scanned each photo for faces, and if there's a face already in the database, it prompts you with a suggestion of who that might be (in this case Jay!). If there's no suggestion, you can input the name directly!

From Screen Grabs

( Click here to see more iPhoto '09 Goodness )

Anyway as I went through all my photos, I realises what a photobug I am. Nov 2007 to present day, i have roughly 3400 Pictures.

But as I tidy up the collection, marking the best shots, renaming events, adding names to faces and deleting terrible pictures, I can't help but reminisce. All the places and people who are no longer in my life on a regular basis, all the people who seem to be your best friend for the season. Looking at a lot of these pics, you tend to feel how transient life can be, all those good times that will never be again.

I don't know why I felt so depressed when I look and long for those times again. Was I happier then as compared to now? Were they truly better times or am I just looking at them through rose-tinted glasses of nostalgia?

I knew the intellectual thing is to realise that good times, good friends and everything else is transient. Like the song from Ave Q "For Now" says that we should find peace with the nature of life that everything is for now and that we shouldn't sweat over it.

But like all things, what the head knows and what the heart feels don't necessarily match up. I really do long for those times that went past and I feel really annoyed I didn't take more pics in 2008, especially all the events i helped put together.

But as I slowly got closer to the more recent events, I started to feel a lot better. I mean, while all these great times were past, I was still creating more memories and more events, and they were just as good, if not better. The best part was also seeing all those people who are still in life, who still appear in my albums.

So you know what? The best is yet to come :)

Friday night, February the 13th, Valentines Day Eve.

I decided to give him a little surprise by taking him to the night safari. I know it sounds cheesy and a little touristy, but hey, we like doing slighty shmaltzy stuff k?

And No, this was not a valentines day thing, not officially anyway. It's just that we haven't spent a great deal of time just the two of us lately, and i've been thinking of a really nice date for a while, and it just so happened to be valentines.

From Night Safari

Relationships are tricky, and so far, this has been the most trickiest relationship i've had to handle. But he's also the most worth it :)

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