You will not find your mission by standing still.

You will not find your mission by standing still. The only way to find it is by challenging yourself in something – I would almost say it does not matter what. Then by making consistent effort, the direction you should take will open up before you quite naturally, just as wide, new horizons open up before someone walking up a hill. Little by little you will come to understand your mission. That is why it is so important to have the courage to ask yourself what it is that you should really be doing right now, at this very moment.

It is likewise important to set your sights high. The greater the tasks you chose to take on – one step at a time – the more rewarding and joyful your life will be. A person with a strong sense of mission is a source of light. For such a person, there is no darkness in the world.

- A Sense of Purpose in A Piece of Mirror by Daisaku Ikeda

Those days, long gone

I remember in lower primary I was forced to take up the reading programme because I was failing English. It wasn’t a very cool thing to join the reading programme, especially since it was an established primary school I was studying in. I don’t think there were any issues of my peers looking down on me, we were all just naive kids then, but I, for one, thought I was the biggest loser ever. The reading programme had an associated stigma – probably equivalent to that of the TAF Club – just that we weren’t fat, we really just sucked in our language.

My greatest achievement was overcoming that hurdle and acing the English subject in both PSLE and ‘O’ Levels.

And well… That’s about it for my achievements.

I don’t remember doing well in anything else thereafter.

I probably did better in maybe CCA and other non-academic activities. My grades in secondary school and polytechnic were just… OK.

Now, in the college of the Arts, I’m having a bit of trouble keeping up too. And I’m trying to find a way to stay afloat.

I mean, if I could, from being incorrigible at English, ace all my English examinations, there’s probably a chance that I can improve in my work right now… right?

I just need to find that spark back. I don’t know how to start, don’t know what to do, but I chose this path and I’m not going to give up like this.

Everyone out there is awesome, and every day I wonder if I could be that awesome too.

But that’s the thing, I have to stop wondering and start taking action.

I need to stop hiding in the shell of myself and get something done.

Will you pace me? Will you support me?

I want to cry but I laugh, because I know, it’s just me being afraid to move on, to step up.

I let people put me down, because I don’t have the courage to back myself up.

I miss doing something non-academic.

I should start doing sports again. Or writing songs.

That’s when I feel like a lion. That’s when I feel I can roar.

Someone once told me, perseverance is scarier than hard work.

Well, that makes sense… Without perseverance and persistent efforts, hard work would not exist.

Go on, fight till the end.

Because the only way out, is through.

Do aliens exist?

Even the Buddha didn’t dismiss the probability that extraterrestrial life could possibly exist. That’s because he was never made to think of extraterrestrial lifeforms as lanky-limbed creatures with long fingers, oversized eyes and a dew-shaped head.

If you destroy your mind’s stereotypes, you open yourself up to a world of possibilities.

Dream on, please.

I had an epiphany today.

Pardon me for using the following word publicly… but this realisation I had was truly… mindfucking.

But let me warn you, that only the one who experiences the epiphanies will be blown away. So a disclaimer – whatever I’m about to say may very well be just another blog post for crickets and frogs.

I highly doubt any amount of my input or sharing will enable you to feel the same way I did – when that very thought bolted across my mind and came out of my mouth before I, yes the owner of the mouth and brain, had consented.

Do not read on if you are pregnant, have a weak heart/high blood pressure, or simply put… feel nauseous at the sight of text, lengthy posts and analytical statements.

I might very well end up writing this to a wall as always… I’m not stupid I know crickets and frogs can’t read. But if you’re still interested… I’m about to share it. Because this was on my mind throughout the day and I don’t think I can ever, would ever, or would want to ever, forget.

* * *

All the madness began when my group drew a lot to do a short presentation on the Surrealist Manifesto. My first reaction – What. The. Heck. Wait a minute – isn’t Surrealism like… about weird… thoughts? And weird people..? Like come on, seriously. Melting clocks? A woman without a leg? Floating heads? Creatures… that don’t look, at the very least, friendly? I mean, that’s crazy, right? How am I supposed to be presenting on Surrealism when I find this topic nothing else but… eccentric?

But then the more I read into the manifesto… the more enthralled I became.

My group engaged in a discussion on our personal interpretations of this art movement. A friend shared a printout on Surrealism which pretty much summed up everything:

Surrealism: A Brief History

The word ‘Surrealism’ was coined by writer Guillaume Apollinaire in 1917; he used it to describe his own ballet ‘Les Mamelles de Tiresais’ and Jean Cocteau’s ballet ‘Parade’. Surrealism, according to Apollinaire, is ‘truth beyond realism’. In 1924, Andre Breton adopted the word in his work ‘The Manifesto of Surrealism’.

After the World War I, artists and intellectuals were looking for an escape against the harshness of reality. They wanted to reform the world their own way, and Freud has provided them a strong influence; by tapping into the unconscious aspect of our brain. In 1924, the Surrealist group was formed; its principal members being Max Ernst, Joan Miro and Andre Masson.

Artists were very interested with the subconscious; with dreams, hallucinations and trances, as described in Sigmund Freud’s works. The group, along with Andre Breton, made artworks, poetry and sketches under hypnosis & automatic writing. Often they produce surreal, dream-like and unconscious works. In the words of Salvador Dali, Surrealism is said to be the symbolic language of the subconscious; truly a universal language, it doesn’t depend on education, culture or intelligence.

(via 1stwebdesigner)

I read that underlined portion twice. And then it happened.

Before I could actually consolidate my thoughts and properly phrase what I wanted to say in a way that people could understand, a string of words came out of my mouth that left me completely flabbergasted thereafter. It all happened so fast I didn’t even realise I had an epiphany until an hour later. And I can’t remember the exact words I said.

But anyway, here’s the revelation that you’ve been waiting for.

* * *

THERE IS NO WRONG OR RIGHT IN DREAMS.

There are no consequences or stigma or scrutiny that you have to face, for dreaming about something that is perceived to be incorrect in reality.

No one will say you’re gay to be riding a unicorn in your dreams. Because it’s just a dream.

No one will say you’re stupid for giving ’3′ as an answer to 1+1 in your dreams. Because it’s just a dream.

No one will say you’re wrong for calling ‘left’, ‘right’ (and vice versa) in your dreams. Because it’s just a dream.

No one will punish you or say that it’s wrong that you have robbed a bank in your dreams. (added by Qin Yi after she heard whatever I blurted out) Because it’s just a dream.

No one will punish you for slapping a woman in your dreams. Because it’s just a dream.

No one will punish you or say that it’s wrong for dreaming that you were throwing rocks at the people who initiated the war. Because it’s just a dream.

But in reality (or rather what we perceive as reality)… conflicts are probably triggered by two parties who refuse to accept that they are wrong.

And that’s why people seek to tap into their subconscious minds as an outlet for expression of this frustration.

Put me in the era of war and ‘racial cleansing’ and I’d be glad to fall asleep forever, just to escape from selfish, egoistic men who declare a war against another because ___(insert exaggerating-lie-about-the-other-party here)___ when it was in fact, because both men probably fell in love with the same woman. Ok maybe not. I don’t know. And we would never know.

But how is it even possible… or ethical… that people at the top of the hierarchy actually have the first and final say in declaring war when 1.) They were the ones who created the tension, 2.) They are not the ones fighting, 3.) Their decisions affect not them but the lives of millions ?

Would you not feel frustrated to be made the scapegoats of war?

Coming back to why I feel that there is a need to dream. People wanted to look into the subconscious state of mind, not just because of the tranquility that follows after a good night’s sleep… but the freedom to be able to think and act without restrictions, without regulations that the state has imposed upon us.

I would like to reenforce that  the term ‘dream’ doesn’t necessarily mean that you have to be sleeping. Keywords: Closed eyes, imagination, automatism, free-thinking.

Also I’m not saying that we should constantly escape and create awkward automatism moments for ourselves. The manifesto mentioned, “I have always been astounded by the extreme disproportion in the importance and seriousness assigned to events of the waking moments and to those of sleep by the ordinary observer.” I agree. I’m saying that it’s possible to be ‘awake’ in our sleep. And be aware of that. Let us be always awake.

And by dreaming… You allow yourself to tell stories that don’t make sense – although perhaps, they do, but we’re all too caught up in the reality we were made to think is reality.

I’m truly sorry to have wasted your time if you completed the read until this final line but felt nothing for this piece.

Goodnight.

It’s been awhile since I last posted here.

A quick update to the frogs and crickets who still visit this page – I’m now studying in LASALLE College of the Arts. Yep, after getting rejected by NTU with an overdone-PR-sounding letter.

Anyway, school has been pretty good so far. It’s funny to think that I’ve been loafing around since my internship at okto ended in February. That’s… almost half a year that I’ve been a sloth. So I guess it makes sense to say that there’s quite a lot of catching up to do – having not touched an assignment brief for about a year. And then coming to this school with a beautiful glass facade… Where everyone vomits rays of creativity out their mouths on free-flow.

Then, just yesterday, my lecturer said something that left me confounded. I was choking. Like a fish on land, desperately gasping for air. It was his positivity that overwhelmed me. Ok, maybe that’s not the right word, because I don’t remember designers being labelled anything close to ‘positive’. More like… I was overwhelmed when he said, “Anything is possible here,” when we had asked him if it was “okay if we”…

Ok. This is not good… The 6+4+3 years I spent under the local education system may have damaged my mind. All ideas ‘unconventional’, ‘unsafe’, ‘eccentric’ and ‘out of the box’ have been automatically chucked away and locked in room in some corner of my peanut brain.

Uh… Wait. What in the world is ‘unconventional’? That word sounds… so familiar yet it feels as if I’ve been stuck in coma for a thousand years since I last heard about or done something like that.

Whatever it is, I’ve got to find my weird, quirky attitude back again before I go crazy and lose my mind for being too, er, un-crazy.

I also got inked. But I’ll share about it some other time.

For now, it’s back to finding the artsy fartsy side of me. Uh, maybe I’ve got the fartsy already. So I’m just left with the artsy.

Somebody, help?

It’s been a summer.

Don’t you think this photograph is beautiful? No, it’s not about the man-boobs. Ok – maybe it is partially about the man-boobs. HA! But I’m fascinated… It’s hard to explain why. The colours and contrast in the foreground and background of the photograph… The skin tones, the green grass, the blue sky… how this wonderful bridge has become not only a route for automobiles but a shelter for people… An architecture that enabled the movement of people and things to the other side of the world… I hate that my English has deteriorated this much I can’t even describe my thoughts now. But this photograph… What a special shot. :”)

This is Brooklyn’s Bridge if I’m not wrong… The picture was taken by my cousin Chris. Kudos to him! (Y)

Now I’m the only kid in town who hasn’t been to America. This is really sad.

One day I will go to the Big Apple.

On a side note, I’ve been really sick for awhile now, I think my organs are out of shape from the persistent coughing.

Wish me well.

Slipping through my fingers,

Still no news, but oh what can I do? I know I’ll have to accept whatever comes, and I’m ready to accept whatever happens, but I just don’t like that feeling of not knowing, anticipating, for an outcome. For a month. It’s a dreadful feeling.

It feels lonely at home, even with people here. And when I do go out with people, I still feel so alone, like a forgotten piece of jigsaw puzzle. Pretty much still the same girl you’d go to when you need help… and the same girl you’d forget when you aren’t in trouble anymore.

As I watch the rain fall,

I decided that in 10 years time, I am going to own a pug or French bulldog called Cheeseburger. He, yes I want a male dog, will wear dog shoes when he goes out. He will be potty-trained. Yes. Cheeseburger will own all pugs in Singapore.

Aimless.

I’m at the crossroads, not knowing how to proceed to the next stage of my life. Perhaps I should not dream, for with big dreams come expectations and disappointments. Perhaps I should not compare, for comparisons result in dissatisfaction and finally, for me, a dip in confidence.

What am I going to do with this life, given to me by my hopeful parents, who brought me up with so much pride?

I would love to set foot upon many different lands, but I don’t feel very confident in anything at all.

And while I’m wasting my time going on about having not found a personal mission in my life, there are others out there already making a name for themselves.

I guess I shan’t compare.

Like a bridge over troubled water.

When you’re weary
Feeling small
When tears are in your eyes
I will dry them all

I’m on your side
When times get rough
And friends just can’t be found
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down

When you’re down and out
When you’re on the street
When evening falls so hard
I will comfort you

I’ll take your part
When darkness comes
And pain is all around
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down

Sail on Silver Girl,
Sail on by
Your time has come to shine
All your dreams are on their way

See how they shine
If you need a friend
I’m sailing right behind
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will ease your mind
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will ease your mind