2019: An Update

It’s been so long! It’s June 2019, and i’ve barely updated this blog. The reasons are clear to me: (1) Some of my friends know this link, and i’m afraid to let them see my writing; (2) I no longer read manga or watch anime; (3) I’m scared that i’m a shitty writer and any further posts will expose this. Well, screw all of that (at least for today), because I want to give any possible lingering reader an insight into my life. I can finally say that while i’m still hugely screwed up in some senses, I’ve matured, I’ve got a firm grasp on who I am and what I want. Read on if you want to know the distilled life story of a 22-year-old ex-otaku from Singapore.

Where do I even begin? Let’s start geographically. I’ve been in the US for over 10 months for an exchange program, and am currently staying on for a summer internship. School was in the East Coast (survived a harrowing winter), i’m in the West Coast now – specifically Seattle – for the next two months. I’m no longer some bright-eyed curious girl (“let’s go solo bag-packing!” “I need to check out that new jazz bar AND go hiking”) although I very much think I fit into the basic narrative. It’s a guilty pleasure of mine, living out a stupid notion of what I imagine to be the life of a stereotypical college basic girl: valley accent in my head, Chainsmokers all day, ripped jeans and a tank – none of the American friends I made were actually like this. Pros and cons are there with everything, but I do truly appreciate the US.

This goes particularly for the liberal arts experience I had. Singapore is so focused on an arbitrary divide between disciplines, between subjects. STEM majors don’t delve into the humanities and vice versa. Here, the lines are so naturally blurred, as they are in real life. You can’t understand a piece of literature without its historical and sociocultural context, and anthropology is essentially scientific inquiry equipped with hands-on research. I took classes on science fiction, African-American Literature (completely fascinating, the evolution of this canon and, of course, insanely rich and horrible history over a recent period of time. Important because SingLit is also having its renaissance soon I believe), philosophy/moral skepticism, so many more, and I have so many thoughts on each. Pick my brain please, if anyone is interested. Most closely related to writing is this class called Daily Themes that I took – essentially had to write a 300-word piece every day for the whole semester.

Greatest takeaway from the class was what Professor O. said at the beginning. People like to think of writers as romantic figures that somehow got struck by inspiration, or that found a perfect muse to pour one’s heart out for. The image is hazy, but it’s a reclusive, sloppy, or frenzied one. In reality, great writers are never like this. There’s no flash of ingenuity; there’s also no young godlike talent. You see Math prodigies or piano geniuses who have just won the Mathematics Olympiad or played some crazy ChopinBeethovenSchubert piece at the age of 11. But you don’t heard of young gifted writers who wrote literary masterpieces, simply because writing takes effort and experience. He drilled that into us; writing is hard work, writing is not romantic, not sexy, and is a process of drafting and re-drafting. The greatest writers we know of took years to get to that point (there are exceptions, I grant that, but majority did) and therefore any aspiring writer should start working their butts off now. Even with as I remain turbulent (I notice me using that term a lot in this blog) identity-wise throughout the years, wanting to be a writer has been something I persistently think of. I want to write, I want to touch people, I want people to engage. I don’t do this consistently because I never believed I had the right to write – my writing’s not fantastic, and I haven’t achieved anything; why should someone read this? Lots of doubts and hedging that I worked out as unnecessary, together with my DT tutor. I do have something to say, I do have a voice, and it’s okay if people are uninterested. I’ve written here and there, written a long piece for this class that I want to but won’t share, because of the many identifying features present in it. Still reluctant to mention names outright, but comfortable with sharing so much more.

So much more to mention! I’ve become more confident in myself, wiser. Two key things remain the same, though. First – i’m still very much the procrastinator. Working on that; many good influences around me, truly amazing people at the tech house i’m in right now – intelligent, driven, free-spirited. Jeff’s got me reading David Graeber’s Bullshit Jobs at work (huge leap from mostly ever reading fiction; he read East of Eden in turn). Don’t get me wrong though, the startup i’m in right now is pretty exciting to be in, a modern solution to a modern problem and the culture is great. But the open-mindedness here and striving towards an ideal lifestyle (stepping up to negotiate for it) is something so severely lacking back at home, I feel. Next – i’m still the same volatile girl i’ve been for the longest time ever. Used to hate it, now I accept it. I transition between times of confidence when feeling good, and a crippling feeling of insecurity, shackled by tendrils that wrap a feeling of being pathetic around me. It’s clear why I write (and don’t) at times too – I write when i’m feeling utterly lonely. When with friends and proper, speakable feelings, I can voice them out and get them out of my chest. I lose the will to write because it’s been said and resolved (which isn’t always ideal. I do want to write). But at times, the dirt is just too thick and only writing it out to a kind void helps.

And it’s precisely this topic, again, that has been one of the major reasons pushing me to write today: love. My god, i’ve dated, hooked up, fell for a number of people, so foolishly. I read my previous posts on love (un-privated one) and don’t feel much about it anymore. Here’s to the girls who fall quickly and hard. Again, I fluctuate between absolute confidence and a ginormous fear of rejection, unhealthy, I know. In between those there’s doubt about casual relationships, diving into some knowing i’ll get hurt, cognizing that i’m being superficial with the echoes of Junot Diaz’s decolonial theory of love ringing about my head but ultimately choosing to succumb to easy desires – so many. And the true mark of a foolish girl: googling “should I text first” on incognito, still. Can you believe it – and I still believe i’m a grown woman! So yeah, as of the present moment, really cute and sincere guy has not texted me back for a day. Not big deal objectively, obviously, but big to me because I did really grow to like him. I don’t know what’s up, I was so frustrated I went to Tinder and swiped on a bunch of girls and now i’m chatting up a couple of them which is pretty fun, actually.

Okay, i’ve honestly run out of steam. I don’t think this post is much good and i’m trying not to care. I’ve been a hypocrite as per usual too, wrote this based off pure heated feeling (that is now simmering away) rather than careful effort, and i’m going off to chat with a friend soon. So many gaps, so much more I want to say. I want to scream and shout and tell everyone that I love them and that I want to hear their stories too. I’ve cooked my own meals and travelled on my own and talked to so many strangers and had so much loneliness and so much love and so much self-hatred and shame and aspirations and desperation and sadness. I’ve been so comfortable and kind and also judgemental and cruel. To these people who left such kind notes, even those so many years ago, you have no idea the kind of impact they have left:

(Yes, you too – removed you off my follower’s list because I know you IRL and really relish my privacy. If you manage to read this, I pray you respect it! And i’m sorry.)

I yearned for connection back then, and I still do today. I was a hapless shoujo romantic with an insatiable passion for 2D love (that influenced 3D me too), and I ran this blog with passion and pride (amongst a sea of dark emotions too, of course). Made priceless learnings through this and it’s something i’m still very much happy about. And you readers were the best thing that happened to me, every comment making it worthwhile because it sparked a connection. I was not alone. Anyone out there: thank you for making it this far. I know this isn’t a great post, it’s messy, hasn’t very much depth, completely wrote it off the top of my head, and I do have so much more to say. I literally wrote this in a little over an hour. But here it is anyway, and I want you to know that I want to give you such a tight hug right now.

Thank you for reading this.