Pictures

A picture paints a thousand words, too many perhaps, because all words stop when I see a picture of her.

I've never felt this way before. It is a great sadness that shouldn't be there. It is as if I've already decided that she will not accept these sentiments, affections.

But she's made it clear to me before that we're just friends - and I approved it. In fact, I was the one who spelt it out not once but twice. I thought she would simply say no when I called her on Sunday, but she didn't. She asked if it was love - I couldn't answer that because I couldn't define it. She wanted some time to think about it - that honestly surprised me. My heart skipped a beat. Is that normal?

I don't want her to feel obligated to be nice because of our past relation. I don't want her to feel guilty if she declines. I want her to be honest and true to herself, and in doing so she will also be true to me. We will not deceive each other. Instead, we will be honest, and reach the best possible outcome together.

We should meet up, if she can find the time, to talk and resolve our feelings, whatever they may be. She hardly knows me beyond my strictness and depression, she doesn't know how gentle I have been, I can be. How do I shed my intimidating nature and let her feel at ease? How can I make her smile, laugh, to bring happiness into her life?

Does she look down on me just because I'm still not an undergrad? Does she think I'm 'crazy'? Does she think I'm weak? These are the insults that will destroy me. If she betrays my confidence and recounts our conversations with condescension, it will destroy me. If she judges me, it will take away the precious sentiments that sustain me. In drawing strength from her kind and loving heart, I have made myself vulnerable to her.

In coming clean with sentiments I know she avoids, I have risked turning our friendship into a tomb. I hope she sees that, I hope she understands that, I hope she appreciates that this is not an easy step. I would like to be the cause of her smile and be a blessing to her, because she has been a blessing to me.

Help me think this through, because I can't.

I never expected to fall in love this way.

Withered

There is a Plant that has lost its suppleness

Lashing winds and pouring rains

It's not a cliche - it's accurate, precise

The Plant always stretches towards the silver lining

It seeks the pleasant, smiling sun

When the clouds cover the horizon

And the silver lining lies beyond this hemisphere

The Plant is lost.

Slowly it dies - drowned by the fretful skies

It begins to sway a giddy sway swirling

In whirlwinds, blurring the lines

Between progress and regress.

A siege of the elements, lurching it back and forth

It loses its colour and turns a pale pallor.

Only its fossil will be preserved for posterity.

Disclosed

I've said it. I hope she says yes - I'd be disappointed if she says no - but it's ok to be honest. It's ok :)

Hmm, I'm too used to having the ball in my court. It's a new sensation, somewhat pleasant in its own quaint manner. 

Undisclosed

I want to say I love you Xue Wen. I thought I could fight the feelings I have for you.

After all the tenderness you've shown me over this long year, I wished beyond wishing that I could love you, as you have loved me. But more so, more than in friendship. I want so say I love you. When I write on my public blog, I want to say I love you. It is not a sin to love, but I fear my love is feared.

You've never been willing to love beyond friendship. You've told me that in more than one way. I'm afraid of losing you as a friend. I'm afraid that you will fear me. But know this: it is because I respect your choices that I only write your name here, behind a cowardly pseudonym, when I'd rather hold your hands and say it to you looking into your eyes. You know me - handling the bare truth is always my preferred choice unless something precious is at stake.

This has to have a conclusion. I cannot continue watering the fruits of futile affections. I must tell you - tenderly, fiercely, anything! - before I leave Singapore. I must tell you I love you despite reason and resistance. I must. There is nothing else I can do, no other way to move forward into the future if I am stuck with these feelings. I need you to free me from my own feelings.

It's worked before. I will say hurtful things. I will snarl and rage till you cower in fear or fight back. You will be hurt, and perhaps you will hurt me in return. I want you to hurt me. I need you to hate me. I need closure. You seem to avoid meeting up with me over Christmas, give curt replies to my well-intended messages. Is it that obvious? Are you on to me?

But I don't want to hurt you.
Please Break My Heart.

(if you won't love me)

Dismay

What was I looking for after my 'A' levels? I think it was freedom. More than that, it was what I could do with it. Meet up with friends and catch up over coffee, join a new club and make new friends. Get a job - get paid while I learn, and make my mark.

None of that has happened. I'm not connecting with friends at a deeper level; I feel like I can never tell them how I truly feel. The distance is very disheartening, to think that I've made it through my ordeal but no one is there to share it with me.

I'm still unemployed, but I want the money. With all my medication and the $400 a month I spend on it, I feel guilty asking my parents for more money. More money to continue my piano lessons, more money to pay for my cycling jersey, more money to buy a road bicycle - the pride of owning the fruits of my labour. But my labour is unsolicited and the emptiness dismays. To assuage my wounded feelings of inadequacy I spend more money - on food, onbooks, PSP games, on things to take my mind off life. And my bank account falls below the minimum amount, the same account I expected to bourgeon with new wages.

Friendship, status, respect, recognition, wealth and love. Must I bear with this intense loneliness again?

XW, ms cricket, I wish we were more than friends. I need you to help me up, help me regain my strength, help me heal the festering wounds with your loving grace.

At least I'm not drinking anymore.

Enough

I've had it - I've had enough. For close to a month I've been searching for a temporary job. I've read books on interview processes; every point on the checklist has been followed even before I read it. I shake hands firmly, present a neat and cogent CV, dress smartly and talk confidently. The interviewers (all female for some reason) will smile with me, I'll make them laugh, I'll make them go 'wow' with my record and personality. I've had enough of this.

They always say they'll call but they never do. Every rejection wounds me more and more; makes me doubt my own self-worth. There used to be a Benjamin who'd confidently dismiss any failure and blame it on external factors without a thought. I've fallen a long way since then. Two hard years... now I blame every 'failing' on myself. I refuse to accept this self-sentence, rationalising that my person is not to blame for this. In plain fact, that is the truth - but it doesn't erase these feelings of inadequacy.

I've concluded another 2 interviews today in similar fashion. Both parties parted ways with a firm handshake and a smile. If they don't call, I won't look anymore. It's just not worth it. I am picky about the work I accept; a clerk-and-cashier type of job is a waste of time to me and the posts I agree to for interviews require initiative, meticulous research and critical thinking. I refuse to accept anything less. I am from Nanyang JC, I am a KI student, I am heading for Australia's Go8 - I deserve more than the mundane.

I will focus on reading for now, and riding my bicycle. I will work on my piano skills and karate. I will do all these and find a way to fill my time before I go to university. It's so much easier getting intelligent work once one falls under the undergraduate category, and even more so post-varsity.

(Un)employment

Nothing went wrong. In all my interviews, I could speak confidently and engage the interviewer.

My impeccable CV follows every rule in the book and more.

My attire - from strapping long-sleeved shirts to shoes that shine in the sun - is calibrated to convey exuberance.

I am always 5 minutes early for an appointment and demonstrate that I have read up on the position before hand.

Every interview ends on a good note: they smile and I occasionally give them a good-hearted laugh.

They say "We will call you by the end of today/tomorrow" but never do; nor do they respond to the voice-mails I leave to demonstrate my keen interest.

I steer clear of contentious topics like pay, fringe benefits and leave days.

After all this, why am I still unemployed?

Stanford Prison Experiment

I used the controversial Stanford Prison Experiment in my IS thesis to illustrate how sociological/psychological experiments lack a sound positivistic character. The experiment was too much of a simulation that failed to match actual prison conditions where the behaviour of both prisoners and guards are heavily scrutinised and regulated.

The prisoners were so tormented that they fell into a state of 'learned helplessness', characterised by the absence of individual opinion while relying on others for answers, guidance or instructions. Two years of my own little 'prison' and the tedious, lonely studies that took place within the confines of home have reduced me to a similar state. I'm no longer the bubbly never-say-die fellow I once was. Where i once attributed any fault to external factors, I have begun to blame it on my disposition and character. Of course, I rationalise it away by telling myself that my circumstances were different and caused by random factors but it doesn't get rid of that nagging feeling of helplessness in the face of existential forces.

My recent search for part-time employment has made it more salient. They say they'll call but they never do; they forget to email you even though they said they would; every company wants experienced part-timers but we fresh school grads don't have it - and how are we expected to find any with this kind of criteria in place? The internship application dates are closed, my college conveniently forgot to tell me about legal attachments, and the government boards - the sector which holds some meaning beyond the next wage - is only roping in scholars headed for the likes of Harvard and Oxford.

I come from Nanyang Junior College, a mid-ranked college right below ACJC and AJC. My projected grades BBBD/ABBD are sufficient to earn a place in universities of good repute such as the majority of Australia's Top 8, and my shining (no kidding) CCA record attests to my active personality. So tell me, why can't I clinch the positions I apply for?

Does the HR sector only hire students from the top 5 JCs? Do they have an (unfounded) issue with my NS exemption? Is it my wardrobe $500 wardrobe overhaul calibrated to impress that's insufficient? Or perhaps it is their vague questions asking for my strengths and weaknesses when these issues are highly contextual? Perhaps it's the downturn that's discouraging them, or the simple lack of interest in interns/part-timers/temps.

In 2008-2009, I felt 'unemployed' because I could not attend school like any 'normal' JC student. I missed my friends, my teachers, my life and my youth. My spirit was shattered and scarred but little did I think that I would truly fail to find employment after JC, where I thought I could breathe and live at last. Don't mind the narrative; I'm barely keeping awake. I used to crave sleep so much; now I fear it. Give me something to look forward to every morning and I shall rest early, rest easy. Give it to me, because it seems to elude my efforts...

... what a shame.

Vacillations

She asked me to write her entry essay for medical school - yet she left out so many details and didn't volunteer sufficient information even when asked. I stopped editing it.

She asked me to edit her journals for her management modules - yet she kept fussing over it, showcasing how bad her PR skills were

She agreed to come as my secret date for prom, yet when it came to the crunch she backed down.

Decisiveness is one attribute she sorely lacks... but the fun we had during our JC orientation days is hard to ignore, hard not to ponder what we could have been.

Fuck

It's still so hard to compose myself. The spammer is back, harping on my NS exemption. It's irritating to say the least - to contend with his stupidity. That fellow is so much of a coward that he won't even leave his name, just some symbol. The MO warned me that discrimination might occure; I didn't expect it to occur so soon.

Then there's that bloody HR company, Recruit Express. I applied for a temp job and for days they didn't respond. I didn't even know if they got my application. All of a sudden they call today and ask me to turn up for an interview tomorrow. Guess what? My clothes aren't ready! What the hell...

My sharp reaction to this situation is what alarms me. All of a sudden I become flustered, frustrated, wrathful. I feel like destroying something - anything - just to vent it out. It angers me beyond reason, I could bear it until despondence joined wrath.

Somehow, it made me reflect on the past 2 years. I want this company to recognise me. I want Young & Rubicam and MINLAW to give me internships or suitable part-time offers. I want to succeed and today's fluster made me think of the 'f' word. No not the vulgar one, the one that lousy students are slapped with.

Now I'm bingeing on a bowl of cereal. I can't remember the last time I felt like bingeing, or drinking, but it all comes back in an instant. My mind is arrested and the words won't form. The lucid prose and cogent arguments dissipate with the post-exam euphoria that was still with me a day ago. It's just like 2008 - one day, in a flash, the cookie crumbles.

Fuck it, I hate being so fragile. I hate parents who don't believe in me. I hate the world.
Fuck you world. My misanthropy stands.