Reading through my old blog posts and wondering if some of my posts are considered offensive to some people. Of course some posts were written in a fit of anger, or disappointment. I may not necessarily feel the same way now, but if you think about it, at one point in time, at one point in my life, this was true to me. What I wrote, was what I honestly felt, and there was no need to be guilty here because no one was here to judge me.
I think being honest with our feelings and with ourselves is something that is difficult to do. There are so many posts and pages on here that are labelled ”private” because I don’t want people to know about them, and I never will have the courage to reveal them to people.
I think I struggle a lot with the notion of being truthful vs ‘trying not to offend anyone”. But if even in such a space, where I am at least, able to maintain SOME degree of anonymity, I cannot be honest, then how am I able to be completely truthful with myself?
I notice how my mindset changes as I get older. Practicality overweighs personal interest. Often I wonder why we all fight so hard to lead the typical Singaporean life, a job, love and lots of children. Do these things mean more to us because everyone expects us to do it? Do we appreciate the values in these expectations of ourselves? It is desperation that is clouding our minds. It is the embarrassment of having to say no I still don’t have a job that I will end up with one that I do not like. And in that sense, am I truly living the life that I want to live or just merely doing what others expect me to do?
Goals lose their meaning when they are no longer mine.
I have always wondered if there was a special technique for holding in a number 2. The scariest thing about pooing is not the smell (although that could be quite embarrassing) but even worse than that is the prospect of the actual gunk that threatens to explode out of you like a Big Bang of brown fecal matter, enveloping everyone for miles in its glorious stench. I definitely do not wish to play God and create an entire new universe in trains or in any sort of public area, but many a time I have been fairly close to doing just that.
When faced with the bleak prospect that there are no toilets within reach, what would YOU do? I don’t reckon breathing in and out was particularly helpful to me. Would tightening my glutes make a difference? Would sitting or walking a certain way help to deflect the terrible pain in your bowels and push those digested substances back up my intestines? How do you, hold it in?
Given two terrible scenarios (that I pray and hope will never happen to you), would you rather
a) Wee in public (because you can’t hold it). Consequences of that would be a puddle on the floor. Might not be yellow if you drank enough water.
b) Poop in public (no evidence of it in public except that of the terrible stench coming from down below and maybe the possibility of a little bit of turd accidentally plopping out of your pants)
Neither prospect is particularly pleasant, but personally, I’d go with b). There’s no obvious visible evidence so worse come to worst, I can just blame it on someone else.
Do not underestimate the power of a smile. Do not underestimate the power of a frown either.
I frowned today, I frowned just because I didn’t want any sort of disturbance. I was caught up in my own solitude and abhorred disturbance because I felt bad about myself. And inside I frowned. I frowned so much that it turned my smile upside down and drained my energy. I frowned because I judged people that I did not know and assumed a situation that had not happened. I frowned because I thought those guys were going to take away my happiness, not to give them out.
That’s why they didn’t approach me as they did everybody else. Because I looked so sulky.
Let this be a lesson to always smile and look happy even if I don’t feel like it. People will gravitate towards you this way, and I will be left feeling happier inside and out, positivity emanating out from my smile and lifting my mood 🙂
Ever had those moments in bed, right before sleep overtakes you, when you think about your past, your future and everything you have done in life? You wonder about the complexities of this weaving, endless string of memories and your involvement in them. You think about the fleeting happiness, the ridiculous things you did, the experiences that seemed as fresh as if it had only happened yesterday.
Yet, what is the proof that they actually did?
I thought long and hard about what the taxi driver said to me, about establishing a business based not on capital, but by ideas and persuasion.
In this short exchange I felt two things: empowerment and regret. Empowerment that the idea of an idea is an essentially powerful thing. As long as you are able to persuade individuals to believe strongly in an idea, the rest will fall into place. The lessons from TEDtalks, the marketing of ideas through a pitch, the development of Iskandar by showing investors a plot of land. The ability to enable strangers to imagine a piece of flat land as being more than just an empty space, to put in all the effort to believe and have faith in something so intangible is impressive.
I felt regret. Because I felt that I could have learned so many things from this taxi driver. In a way, he is one of the transient people in my life who greatly impacted me, maybe even more so than the friends I have in school. He taught me to be concise: because there is no point telling a story that people cannot grasp in 15 seconds, because that is all the time you have to convince people of an idea or situation. It is the terms that you use that have to be accurate and concise. It has to be believable and it has to get the point across quickly. I find myself lacking in this area.
He seemed so educated. And I wish I had given myself more time to listen to him. Because what is even better than money? Knowledge. Everything can be easily accessed from the web or books, but nothing beats hearing about experiences from people themselves.
And after all, we all want to be heard.