One night in February 2019, I chanced upon this blog again. 

--

This precious little treasure chest of memories, joy, and blissful innocence. I am supposed to be working on my essay but I am on blogger again- true enough, I have not changed. Writing on my blog when I have other more important things on my agenda to complete. Priorities, yes.

Anyhow, scrolling through all these posts, few things struck me most. Let me share them here, just so that when I look back at this another 5 years later, I can bask in the mind of 2019 Nicole just like I relived my secondary school self over the past hour.

1. Writing, together with music, has always been my unique form of self-expression.

I have always never been good at talking. Confronting people is one of my worst fears. I fear saying the wrong things, spurting words I never mean, words I cannot take back once they have exit my mouth, all because of a fatal decision in the split second. Writing was a way for my thoughts to have space and breathe - to be able to compose a string of notes, each syllable adding to the rhythm of the sentence, each intonation part of a bar, a stanza, a page, a piece. A lyrical moment in time captured on paper.

Writing to me, has been a deeply cathartic process. Writing gives me the freedom to string the complexities and dualities of the emotions I'm feel right here, right now, into an almost comprehensible form for the world to understand.

More importantly, as I've realised today, writing encapsulates my state of mind I am in right at this moment, as I sit on my chair in my apartment in Central London typing away on my computer at 2am, while an outstanding essay lies behind this browser waiting to be completed. (God knows will I still be sitting at this exact same spot when I scroll past this post 5 years later.) Every day I face a different state of mind, but only this one comes to surface as I try to discern them into words, and only this one matters, now. I guess you could call this a way for me to crystallise all that I am here, and immortalise it in a digital snowglobe.

2. I have always been, and am still deeply fond of the arts.

Even after moving to London, I have found that, the arts, whether in visual, audio or tactical form will always be something close to my heart. Just few days ago, I finally dragged myself out of the house to head to the National Gallery for a solo museum trip. I never regretted it. Immersing myself in the inspiring creativity and longevity of these great artists, musing about life and what makes it a life worth living, I saw with my own eyes the magic of the human brain captured in these paintings.

It is extremely reassuring and incredibly uplifting to read my old musings on what my craft meant to me, and how despite this passion for the humanities has shifted in form, the underlying intuitive attraction, craving and emotive power for the very same things I had sought comfort in has never changed. These things were, and still are my way of escaping the world, entering a new realm of reality where past, present and future are blurred.

If there is anything in this world I would hold on to, it would be this unwavering love and deep-rooted passion for the arts that I would never, give up. Few things can be said with such certainty. This is one of those things.

3. Life, is funny in all that it offers.

In the span of time I was gone from this blog, I have seen so much more of the world (and more I have yet to discover is still waiting ahead for me). Perhaps this is a good place for me to slowly document my growth over the years, as I tread through the forest of life.

When you go through the motions of your daily routine, every day seems like a page waiting to be filled and gingerly turned. The unfolding of events with every second and minute and hour envelops you there and then, like an imposing wave looming over the flat, anticipating seashore. But as with hindsight, these things become nothing more than a speck on ink on a page filled with thousands of ink markings. One thread in a ball of yarn intertwined over and over, one petal in a garden overflowing with flowers.

That is not to say, I should disregard every emotion I am feeling currently, because it will eventually amount to nothing. I don't have to invalidate my thoughts, just to make space for the 'better', more optimistic thoughts that are more presentable to the outside world. Looking back at the things that made me wistful, the things that created a painful pang inside me, the things that make me just want to shout to the world how blissful I feel... and I could keep going on...

What I'm trying to say (to myself) is that you are the sum of everything you've been through thus far. Just like the conditions needed to sustain every human life on earth are so incredibly specific and fragile, yet it somehow works out. Likewise, choosing to alter one small bit of who I was would never get me to who I am today. Like a flower that thrives and blooms in adversity, I too am an aggregate of all that i have gone through since I came out of my mother's womb and had a conscious mind to put two and two together - and I would not want this any other way.

I quote something from this 16-year-old wisdom of mine that struck me so hard, "The things that matter are felt, not touched." 

Indeed, my resolution for the rest of this year would be to do more of what makes me happy. Not just a vacuous or flighty kind of happiness, but a deep set fulfilment that emanates warmth from within, like the comfort a freshly boiled bowl of goji berry soup provides on a cold winter night. To do more of what makes me feel thankful for everything I am, and that is to write more, read more and never lose touch with my one true love - the arts.

Lastly, I hope for myself to never give up that last speck of beautiful innocence I had when I drafted those posts 5 years ago. To be surrounded by earthly elements that bound you to its glittery and glassy glamour, yet being able to look past that, and dig deeper to find what truly brings meaning.

I remember laying in bed back home, lights off, quitely typing away on my new iPhone in a hurry to publish my post then. Tonight, I sit in the middle of my room, huddled in a grey Superdry hoodie, music playing away on my red speakers, heaters on, typing away before I catch some sleep. Tomorrow, I may be sitting in a cafe, sipping on a cup of tea (I don't drink coffee!), scrolling on my computer and chancing upon this repository of me. There are so many possibilities.

Life is good, in what you make out of it, indeed.

People often ask how I manage my studies and music so well. Frankly speaking, I really don't know. I was simply exposed to such a lifestyle from young, when after dinner time meant practising the piano then doing work. I believe it was a choice I made. No one can ever force you to do the things you don't want to. I wouldn't call it passion, it has simply become a chore you have to fulfill, your obliged responsibility. And I don't want music to become a chore to me.

I want to enjoy music. I want to play to my heart's content. I want to be free.

If you truly love something, you won't have to be coerced into doing it. You won't see it as a liability. You would long to do it and love what you're doing.

Like many others, initially it wasn't my choice as a toddler to want to play the piano, it was my mother who had to drag me for music lessons. In fact, I rarely practised and would only relent under the bribery of sweets from my teacher. I was one lazy student haha. Even canings became a regular during practices too. But gradually as I grew up, music became such an integral part of my life that I could not do without. It was to the extent that when we went on holidays, it felt weird that I had no piano to come home to to practise. Practising had became a habit.

While I'm definitely not the best and most hardworking student around, I still lament about practising, dread having to wake up from my naps all weary and groggy just to practise. No one enjoys practising. But it's the process that makes it fun, the music-making. And without practice, how does one improve? How does one improve to become better? (For that, I have not found any solution. But I have taken practising as a temporary solution until I've found a viable one. ;-) )

I'm certainly still not a big fan of practising, my mom still has to chase me to the piano occasionally, but I know it's for my own good. As cliched as it sounds, practice does make perfect. It makes everything better. It makes you feel better, feel satisfied, feel gratified.

I want to explore more realms of music, I want to push my boundaries to beyond simply playing solo piano and classical works. Having a passion doesn't mean having to go to all the competitions available to attain achievements. Those material rewards don't have a lasting impact, these accolades simply appease for a short time. It's the desire to learn, to yearn for more and never stop learning.

Throughout my years of playing the piano, what I recall is far from all the achievements and awards I have accumulated over the years, but rather the enjoyment, fulfillment, gratification and fun I have derived from the piano. These are what makes those arduous practices worthwhile and what keeps me going and striving for the better. :-)

That's the problem with getting attached to someone who is leaving. A part of you just feels missing. And lost.

Missing so many people right now. All the emotions just come rushing in all at once and suddenly I'm longing for so many people to come back into my life. Thinking back to those days we spent together, the memories that remain in the corner of my mind, it was fun while it lasted. But reality strikes again, and we're separated.

Reminiscing about the past helps me to remember you, your faces, your smiles. I grasp tightly onto these precious memories, like trapping butterflies into glass jars, so that I can pull them out one by one, and play them in my mind like a video, so that the memories will not dwindle away as time passes.

So that I will remember you.

Even when I know that I should set these memories free and leave it all to fate to decide the future.

If we are destined to cross paths, I hope we will meet someday. I think of what I will do when I first meet you again, all the time. Would I recognize your face? Would I call out your name? Frankly, I don't know.

I guess in life, things never turn out the way we want them to. The unexpected happens and we deal with it instantly. That's what makes life so full of surprises. Though I would prefer, pleasant surprises.

I sincerely hope to meet these people again and bring them back into my life. Missing people is such a chore. It just makes one feel miserable and depressed.

"You can love someone so much, but you can never love people as much as you miss them."

Let's meet again in the days to come. I believe God will bring us together. I believe we will.

[just some late night thoughts, sorry for any incoherence or flaws. just had to put these emotions into words x]

I think eyes are the most beautiful things ever. As they always say, your eyes are the windows to your soul.

Recently, I've become obsessed with eyes and I have to admit, people with beautiful eyes attract me a lot. A lot. It's the first thing I notice when I meet a person. I have always wished to have irises that were not boring black, or boring dark, dark brown. (that's essentially almost black, unless you scrutinize them really closely.) I have always longed for eyes that were any other color than black. (or yellow, or purple, or orange.)

I love startlingly blue irises - a deep blue like the bottomless ocean that conceals all kinds of treasures we will never know, azure blue like the beautiful limitless sky on a clear day, pale blue like crystal clear aquamarine gemstones sparkling in the light. So serene, so comforting. 

There's something about green eyes that draws one in too - an enticing deep-set emerald green, an endearing yet mystical and opulent olive green, a jade-tinted with gentle dove-grey ripples kind of green, a piercing brilliant shimmering green with golden flecks.

Oh, eyes speckled with dashes of chestnut brown. Rich and alluring eyes.

There's just something about eyes that makes it hard to compartmentalize them simply into blocks of colors. They are sparkling kaleidoscopes of colors that never cease to amaze and entrance me; the myriad of colors that mix together to form a perfect blend of ripples that form an entangled mess in our irises. Our eyes betray and reveal everything about us. Our pain, our hurt, our anguish, our joy, our ecstasy, our amazement, our love, our longing, our wonder. 

The kind of eyes I am born with are dark nebulous onyx-colored eyes. And coming to think of it, they're not as bad as light-colored eyes. The myriad of brown and black lustrous darkness with a purple-grey bruise-like rim around is actually quite enchanting and unique to my heritage. The luminous clear quality allows for reflection, an alternative mirror, as if staring into another person's soul with those halcyon eyes.

Eyes are such intriguing commodities. Because who needs words when you have eyes, eyes that tell them all?

Yesterday while in the library, I happened to chance upon this Indian man who out of the blue, approached me while I was searching for books under the YA section. He asked if I understood Chinese with an eager look on his face. It sounded a little dubious at first, because I've never been approached by anyone in such an abrupt manner. But I just decided to go with my instincts and said Yes. So he produced this ruled sheet of paper with some Chinese characters scribbled on it. Turns out it was a letter. And so I began to read it.

By the time I read to the end of the letter, I was already so struck by the content. I felt so ashamed by myself for even doubting his pure sincerity and earnestness. Not only was the level of Chinese exceptional, especially for a person of a different culture who has never learnt the complexities of the Chinese and distinctly unique language to his own mother tongue before, his genuineness and goodwill was simply overflowing in the letter. I was left at a loss of words by the end of it. 

So as I read the letter, it urns out, this man was a sports coach who was crafting a heartfelt appeal to the mother of his student in a bid to persuade her to let her daughter continue her training. Even going to the extent of asserting that he would guarantee she balances both studies and trainings. His dedication and sincerity was simply so evident in the letter, his requests so aptly and reasonably put I could not possibly think of a better way to string them together, nothing superfluous or excessive. Just the right amount of words. Looking at his handwriting, I could tell how much time and effort he spent, painstakingly looking up the dictionary and internet to come up with such an intricate piece of letter. I have never seen such passion and nurturing spirit in any mentor, who would readily take up the daunting challenge of learning such an advanced and complex language, just to ensure his pupil can further pursuing her passion. A remarkable coach and man he is, is all I can say.

His devotion and zeal in being a coach touched my heart. One I did not expect from reading a random letter scribbled in Chinese characters from a totally random stranger I just met in the library. An unforgettable and unexpected meeting in the library it sure was. 

Right now I'm facing something called an existential crisis. I'm currently struggling with coming to terms with my own personal identity which lands me in a dilemma. And I don't always experience identity crises. Well, essentially it's about what I want to be. I don't really know what I believe in, I don't have a certain doctrine I particularly subscribe to. I simply believe in the greatness of God and Christ the Redeemer and I know that He will always be beside me. I've never thought so hard about this rather profound matter before such that it makes me feel so confused and lost. Feeling discombobulated is never a comforting feeling which made me further question what I really want to believe in, on my own accord. I do not wish to partake in a certain set of beliefs simply because my parents do, or according to popular culture. It's something I want to be proud of, to cherish and appreciate, to be sincere and to shape my actions and thoughts from it. Much more, I want it to come from within me and not something I was coerced into. While I have to say that I'm not a devout Christian, I do not deny the core values that Christianity advocates. Mark 12:31 says "The second is: 'Love your neighbor as yourself.' There is no commandment greater than these." Indeed, our Love for others is great, for Love transcends all boundaries.

Certainly, I've felt nothing but proud to be a Christian, to be Jesus's child and know that the Lord God is always next to me for He will not forsake or abandon me. I fervently believe that I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. I've never felt shameful to proclaim to others that I love the Holy Father and I believe that there is a God up there who will protect me and love me. Fumbling with my own identity has allowed me to reflect on the kind of person I want to be and what I want to believe in, and I'm glad I did. From young, I've been exposed to Christian elements and I just want to make sure that this is what I choose to truly believe in and I've made my choice. I choose to believe in God. I choose to rejoice in all that He has provided me with. I chose to be myself. And I shall love my God with all my heart and with all my soul, and with all my mind and with all my strength. Life is wonderful.

“There will come a time when all of us are dead. All of us. There will come a time when there are no human beings remaining to remember that anyone ever existed or that our species ever did anything. There will be no one left to remember Aristotle or Cleopatra, let alone you. Everything that we did and built and wrote and thought and discovered will be forgotten and all of this will have been for naught. Maybe that time is coming soon and maybe it is millions of years away, but even if we survive the collapse of our sun, we will not survive forever. There was time before organisms experienced consciousness, and there will be time after. And if the inevitability of human oblivion worries you, I encourage you to ignore it. God knows that’s what everyone else does.” 

― John Green

So everyone's started thinking about their future, what they want to pursue in life, their lifelong goals, their potential job prospects. And here I am, being all conflicted and oscillating between the countless ideas I have racing through my mind. Trust me, I've had plenty of daydreams of me in clad in different costumes and experiencing different things in almost every possible job you can imagine. 

I've contemplated being an archaeologist, but then again, Singapore doesn't really have much for me to dig up. Being a forensic scientist was under one of my choices too, but I doubt I'll be as strong-willed and headstrong like those unyielding female heroes we usually see in crime busters. I crumble at the mere sight of a cockroach or lizard unfortunately, which places me in a position unfit to deal with more gruesome entities. After encounters with  the murder-mystery themed board game, Cluedo and all those childhood shows with detectives, the young me imagined myself in a brown trench coat and sunglasses, clutching onto a thick stack of documents containing my points of investigation while holding the stereotypical magnifying glass for analyzing every tiny speck of my surroundings - being a detective was intriguing enough while it lasted. I've also dreamt of becoming a lawyer, wearing the white curly wig and black robes, looking dignified and all, fighting cases in court, getting to engage with people of different walks of life. But as I've grown older, I realized that being a lawyer is much more complex (not to mention the myriad of forms of law that exist, not only the especially appealing, exciting criminal law many take interest in) than I thought, apart from simply putting on the wig (which only barristers do to signal a status of seniority). Like every kid, I've envisaged myself in every job scenario possible (including being a garbage cleaner that I was warned of if I did not study hard)

Disclaimer: My intention is certainly not to demean cleaners as lowly-educated or lacking in hardwork. Rather, this was used as motivation to spur me on to strive for the best of my abilities and never give up on in times of difficulties. In fact, I really respect the elderly grandpas and grandmas who struggle to make a living each day and coming out to society to support themselves in such harsh conditions instead of simply enjoying their golden years, yet maintain such perseverance and determination to continue living each day. :-)

However, being the procrastinator I am, I've decided to leave this matter aside and chuck it at the back of my brain I've racked for days for the time-being. I'll come back to this headache-inducing issue next time. I promise. 

Right now, I've come up with some goals I would like to accomplish when I grow up though:

1) Get my own apartment. (Location undecided.)

2) Adopt a dog/cat. (Only friendly ones though.)

3) Leave an abundance of pillows around the living room in my apartment so that I can just plop down anywhere anytime once I'm back from a tedious day. (Can't wait for this goal to be fufilled.)

4) Buy a gigantic king-sized bed for me to jump/roll/bury myself in. (Without having to suffer mom's wrath who complains I mess her bedsheets all the time.)

5) Leave my bed unpacked in the morning. (Okay maybe I will pack my bed occasionally but on weekends, I'd like my bed to be in the most comfortable state possible.)

6) Get a sports car. One seat for me, the other reserved for my potential cat/dog. (Just kidding, I don't really fancy sports cars. Where's the fun when's there's only 2 people? The more people the merrier and we can create a party!)

So that's about all that I have for now. I'll probably add more to this to-do list when I'm in my "aspiring" mode. I guess I'm just too young to make such a hasty decision just because I should. I don't want to regret this later so I should give it due consideration. Besides, the future is the future for a reason. I'd prefer to life my life day by day and worry about the future later. That's the way the life of a procrastinator works. There's no helping it. *shrugs* ;-)

If only more people paid more attention to the small little kind things others did rather than zoom in on the negativity. 

If only more people appreciate pleasant qualities and embrace blemishes rather than condemning them.

If only more people realized what others did for them rather than remember what they did wrongly. 

If only more people felt the same old emptiness others experienced again and again rather than to turn a blind eye at it.

If only more people saw the sorrow and loneliness behind the smiles of others rather than assume. 

If only more people recognized that others make mistakes too to forgive rather than criticize.

If only more people remembered the things you did for them rather than the things you did to them.

If only more people understood, the world would be such a wonderful place to live in.

{Ballet when I was 4. I miss ballet classes. Those memories in the dance studio were quite an important part in my childhood I guess.} 

Sunday was a relaxing day. I like peaceful Sunday afternoons. Occasionally I decide to look through the heaps of photo albums we have stored in our storeroom. Many of them have collected dust, the photos yellow and beginning to fade, but the memories still remain vivid in my mind. So I decided to flip through the photo albums that Sunday and take a walk down memory lane. Looking at old photos is always such a warm and nice feeling, reminsicing about the old times and never fails to put a smile on my face. I can't help but lament about returning to the old times when I was much younger and carefree, when life just comprised playing, eating and sleeping. 

This was at my auntie's wedding ceremony years ago. We were really bonded then. Sadly, we're not really on such close terms now. It's one of the many friendships I regret not working out though.

I remember attending lots of extra lessons when I was young, like art classes, swimming classes, ballet classes, abacus classes. And ballet played a really significant part of my childhood I guess. It always took up my Sunday afternoons (classes were 2-3 hours long), it was tiring but fun. Our class was very bonded and as usual, I was the youngest. I remember how we would always go to the toilet to change together after lessons, laughing and just having fun with each other's company. My dad would always wait outside the dance studio patiently and I was always proud of the fact that he was the only dad there so all the moms and my teacher knew him while my sis went shopping with my mom. And at every end of the year we would have a concert. There was one where our teacher had us draw on fake eyes that looked gigantic and disproportionate but you couldn't really tell on stage. All the adults were laughing at our enormous eyes I swear. Then there was another year where we had butterfly costumes and one of my wings dropped off. 2 hours before the performance. In the end I had to carefully flap my wings while dancing because after all, rubber bands aren't that secure...

Just look at how tiny all of us were! (Just in case you didn't know, we're the puny people in purple, I'm the one on the extreme left.)

This was me and my sis during my fifth birthday at my grandma's house. I actually still remember this birthday celebration really vividly and most of the stuff we did. Especially since this was one of the rare times my sister wanted to wear the same clothes as me. (It's definitely never going to happen anywhere in the near future.) And the presents. I think I got a handicraft set from my uncle which was too complex for me to comprehend then and a thick heavy Winnie the Pooh book (that's still his fav even now).

I really love looking at photos of the past and laughing at all our stupid selfs. I wish I had more photos to look at but taking photos then wasn't as convenient as whipping out a cameraphone to capture a moment in time now. Nevertheless, these photos will always be my treasure and I'm definitely going to fill up my albums with more photos to come! :-)

Yep, that's me in the middle with my paternal cousins.

It's March. And we're into the third month of 2014 and the 9th week of school. Wow, time really flies. Enough of that now and I'll go straight to the point. I would just like to share about something I've been reflecting about for a really long time.

I think I'm not very good at making friends. In my 16 years of life, I'm sure to say I have never really had a best friend, even now. I did and do have a couple better friends whom I could share my deepest darkest secrets and thoughts with. Having heart-to-heart talks once in a while is always a nice feeling. Having someone to listen to you pour out your emotions after an overwhelming day can be such great relief and painkillers. But people change. Many people come and go after leaving some sort of impact in life, and I do not deny that I still think about those fond memories from time to time, rereading old conversations, looking at old photos. I still do miss some of them. Admittedly, many of the friendships I've had don't seem to last. If I were to count the number of real friends I've had with my ten fingers, I would still have fingers left. Many times I look back and think, what did I do to destroy this special bond of ours? What happened? It always seems to start off on an exciting journey of getting to know each other, then slowly the novelty starts to wear off and the other person gets bored. The friendship begins to die away, like a star fading into the darkness. The question marks never seem to end and I know they will never be answered. I guess we just drifted apart. Or we were never meant to be. I actually am very envious of those who have found their life companions early, it's a really great feeling to have someone you know will stick by you in times of difficulty, share your secrets, happy times, forging so much more memories together.  

But hey, then again, I shouldn't forget those whom I'm still keeping in touch with, ever since we were young. It's really wonderful thinking how each of us went our separate ways and drifted apart, never expecting that we would cross paths. But we did (and proved that this world is not as a vast and lonely as it seems). Seeing how much we have grown, no more chubby cheeks or toothless smiles. The same old friends I always knew. The friendships that lasted more than a decade. I'm definitely grateful for those.

I've learnt that people come and go in our lives. If they're meant to stay, they will. But what I do not want to regret is not holding on to and cherishing my friendships when they lasted. 

Expectations. One word that bears much weight.

You know how when everyone constantly impose their expectations on you to do well and excel. These people scrutinize the every move you make without knowing how nerve wrecking it can be. They go the extra mile to insert their own comments (be it criticisms or constructive feedback, but it's usually the former.) along the way. These people are the ones who pressurize you to constantly attain the highest standard above all and meet up to their soaring expectations. What these people fail to recognize is that as human beings, as sentient beings, we do make mistakes. There will be a time when we make blunders, when we fall to the ground. When we learn to pick ourselves up and muster enough courage to move on. Nobody is perfect. Society itself is imperfect. Only God is perfect. But it's the imperfections that makes us perfect, the unique individual we are.

Nobody should feel insecure about themselves. I admit that I do doubt my own abilities many times when I feel the need to succumb to people's expectations of me. I feel insecure about lots of things like how people perceive me, my looks, my grades, just to name a few. Trust me, insecurity exists in everyone, as much as we dislike this pessimism that is in us. But there is so much more to life than feeling like we're not worth it. You're definitely worth much more than you think you are or as what your haters claim. So there's no point in measuring your worth by what others perceive of you. There's so much more in life to enjoy, to relish in the simple pleasures of life and do away with the desire to conform to society's expectations, rather than to feel like you're dead and harp on the unnecessary. I guess removing all the insecurity in ourselves is impossible but at least we can feel more confident about ourselves and be proud of our own capabilities as a person.

I've learnt that it's completely up to myself whether I choose to cave in to society's expectations and continue to discredit my own abilities. Or I could choose to ignore every negative thing that pulls me down and believe in myself that I can do it. God cannot help you if you can't even help yourself. After all, the greatest satisfaction is derived when you prove everyone wrong and surpass their expectations, showing those people that you're not one to be taken lightly of. :-)

Aloha. I guess I haven't been updating for quite some time so I decided that I'm going to start now and end the procrastination (that might become endless if not for beginning now). I constantly remind myself to update my blog since I treat it like my online diary but somehow things never materialize. I have loads of drafts that never seem to be completed. This is what happens when you have overflowing ideas and can't string them into one seamless piece. Well, here I am now, rushing to pen down my thoughts that I feel like expressing at the moment before they're gone in a whim. Somehow I find doing things in the middle of the night rather productive. I suppose the serenity and stillness of the night fuels my inspiration and creates that perfect tranquil surrounding for me where I'm alone in my room. That's why I like making covers of songs and churning out new ideas as well as medleys on the piano at 11:30pm. I'm appreciate that my neighbors are understanding and none of them have ever filed a complaint about late night piano practicing. *phew* 

Anyway, my concerts and national competition is just round the corner. In less than 2 weeks. Everything feels so surreal. The intensive rehearsals are just beginning to start, the first year-end concert is on Saturday night. Everything is so packed. Not the mention, regular cello lessons in school, piano lessons and the much much dreaded holiday homework (which I have yet to begin on. And will soon have no time to complete). I admit the year of 2013 has been an extremely busy and intensive one, both academically and musically. I've experienced various ups and downs, from my worst performance ever, to having the privilege of performing at a soirée held at the Spanish Ambassador's Residence. While exhausting and disappointing, it has also been a fruitful and exciting year in my musical journey at the same time. I have gained so many new opportunities along the way to share my love for music with others and garner feedback from numerous professors on how to make my music more tasteful and professional.

There's no doubt I'm feeling flustered and anxious right now. I certainly need much more practices which I have not been diligently putting time aside for, being too preoccupied with unnecessary distractions that plague me everyday. My playing has not been up to the expectations I set for myself, and the standards everyone has for me. Which makes it even more pressurizing for me. I'm starting to feel the weight of everyone's expectations including my peers, juniors, seniors, friends, family and so many more people. My teacher puts lots of faith in me to excel and I surely do not want to let her down. And this is why I want to change my old ways and turn over a new leaf. It will not be easy to correct stubborn old habits but I will try. I will try my best so that I can have no regrets when I'm on stage and be the brightest star I'll ever be. 

Having played the piano since 4, it's even more than a decade. I truly believe that music is my passion and my medium of expression. Playing the piano allows me to let go of all my worries and occasionally reflect on life (my mind does wander a lot when I'm immersed in my playing). I even sleep with my grand piano every night. 

The black and white keys are my life. I believe music allows ones fertile imagination to grow and create wonders that no one can fathom. I can't imagine a world without the piano, much less one without music. It would be so lonely and empty. Music is able to fill us with warmth, compassion and humanity. I really am thankful to God for giving me this wonderful gift. I will not let You and myself down.

Going to school makes me depressed. I wish I could have met people who wouldn't leave me from the time I was born. I'm tired of searching, then gradually finding out that it's not The Person after a long time.

Repeat process all over again. Time frame may vary. Terms and conditions apply. Results not guaranteed.

It's getting tiring. Why can't life just be smooth-sailing? Life would be perfect if it could simply take out the ups and downs and give me some peace so I can take a break. Sometimes I think God is testing me. I know I do have my flaws, I'm not perfect, that's what makes me human. Yet I still haven't found that person who can accept me for who I am and the flaws that make up me, me. And I'm still searching and searching till that day. 

If it ever comes. I hope. 

I try to change myself. I've been trying. Maybe it's me. But why always me? Why not someone change for me? I hate feeling insecure. It's the worst feeling one can ever have of yourself. Constantly feeling like you have to live up to society's ideals, to become one of society so as to be accepted by all. Then again, it's subjective. You might be accepted, you might not. I'm likely to fall in the latter. 

My thoughts are all in one jumbled big grey mess. I can't even organize them properly. I'm just going around in circles. I don't know. It's 12:30AM. It's been a tiring day. Maybe my brain just needs some rest for tomorrow. I should be sleeping.

Wake me up when everything's over. 

Maybe leaving everything to God's plan for me will be the best solution for now. 

"I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me." - Philippians 4:13

;

"But those who hope in The Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint" - Isaiah 40:31

It's so hard to break the barrier between someone and you after it's been there for a long time. It simply grows stronger and stronger till it becomes indestructible.

The barrier. I wonder how it even began.

It was just something that gradually began to build up, to culminate after months and months, to become it's state today – Unbreakable. 

I regret not cherishing those times when we always had a whale of a time together, laughing together. I miss those times when you involuntarily helped me, even in the least expected situations. I regret taking those times for granted, not taking the opportunity to know you better. I regret so much. 

As time passes, I find myself going back to those fond memories and reminiscing about the times we had each other's company. 

Still, the barrier remains between us, insidiously creeping to fill the spaces that separate us. The intangible barrier, invisible to the eye, but its presence so ever felt.

I wonder, how things would turn out now, if everything turned out, the other way round. But it's probably too late. 

If only.

It feels as though I'm alone in this big, big world. The only one, thrown into a dark jungle to fend for myself, no one there for me. I'm surrounded by many, the merry laughter, the energetic chattering, yet I am still alone, in the midst of all these flurry, left on my own with no companions.

That perpetual feeling of emptiness inside, shutting out everything going on in the background, lost in a sea of voices, it feels as though I'm the only person on this world, detached from others. I am in solitary. Leading a lonely life, alienated from my environment (not that I choose to). 

It's lonely, very lonely. 

But what can I do?

Masking the unhappiness, the emptiness, the pessimism, behind a smile plastered on my face. To show others that I'm happy, for they do not know how I truly feel inside. Constantly feeling so insecure, insecure of others' judgements about me - that's not a very nice feeling. 

But I'm getting tired. Nothing changes, no one reciprocates, everything goes on as per normal. Everyone is simply too absorbed, together. Everything is so complicated. 

If only the world was a beautiful place where everyone loved everyone, where everyone was your friend, where everyone smiled at each other. That would be nice. 

I need an escape from reality. 

It suddenly dawned upon me that I've already been through almost 1 and a half decades of life. That's really long and the thing is, it seemed like I was just Year 1 a few months back. Time passes so quickly that you don't even realize it. Maybe it's the earth spinning quicker since it was shifted off its axis during the Japan earthquake (that must have been quite an impact) - I know, I listen in geography lessons - But that's not the main point. I suppose time is always ticking away, I'll die to buy time. Wait no, if I die then I can't use up the extra time I've gotten. Scratch that. I'll love to buy time. I really wish how I could teleport back to those times when I was in kindergarten having fun playing around in my mini kitchen, serving fake plastic vegetables and fruits to my grandpa, cutting them up with my pink hello kitty chopping board set, wearing mommy's high heels. The list is endless. I guess I could still do that too if I wanted but there's just not enough time. School is overwhelming, the work just keeps flowing in like flood gates, I don't get to experience a day where I have no homework to do. There's always that never-ending responsibilities to fulfill. If it's not homework, it's piano (and I have  masterclasses with the prof from Royal College flying over from London). Life is ever so busy. It's only August and I already can't wait for December holidays. (Not to mention, ChildAid 2013 & National comps). Sigh. That's life. We live for the future. The present has become the future. We study to get good grades to get a good job so that we can support our own family next time, to allow our children to have good education so that they can get good jobs and support their own family. It's this eternal cycle.

But as the saying goes, every cloud has a silver lining. Though life may always be hectic, hey, at least I still have people who care for me to talk to, to confide in, to laugh with, to have fun together. It's all these little precious moments that makes life, so memorable and cherished. We can never go back to the past, but we can sure create our own future, and we can definitely enjoy the present for as long as it lasts. 

Awww♡

I was such a crumply newborn then hahas. 

 

Now | Then (also 3 years ago). 

I can't buy time, but I sure can reminisce about the old times, and embrace the now me. I'm still a teenie, I have many more years ahead of me and it's all up to me on how I want to spend it. For all I know, I'm very sure I want to enjoy life to the fullest! So for now, let's just Carpe diem!

Just another day at school. And I have cramps too. Oh yay \o/. (that was just an unintentional rhyme) Anyways, my point is, I don't get why some people just can't forget all the crap that has happened in the past and move on. Is it THAT difficult to let bygones be bygones, or simply dump those unpleasant memories into the your mental trashbin *imagines the trash icon*? I mean, why bother to harp about the unenjoyable past instead of indulging in the delight of the present (e.g. Spending time uselessly on Instagram and Twitter like what I do) and make the best out of what you can? Is it simply so tough to forgive and forget? Okay, i think you should get your facts right. It's not as if someone offended you or did something so unforgivably wrong, and this gives you the undeniable and inexplicable right to act like such a haughty kid. (Note the use of the word "kid"). You fail to realize how ludicrous your actions seem. Haven't you considered the feelings of the other person who has already put in utmost effort to make things right, yet you deliberately want to make things wrong? This is just not right. Or left.

This brings me to my next point on why you should not even bother about those who don't give a shit. They are the ones losing out on not knowing forgiveness. They probably prefer having more enemies than friends *shrugs*. Or even better, be so extremely nice and sweet to them that they totally seem like that evil unforgiving bitch. HAH. In conclusion, these brats aren't really worth your and my time. They simply have a overly narrow perspective on life, selfishly thinking that things only revolve around Me, Myself, I. There will definitely be others around who accept their true selves for what they are (Although can't and I shamelessly admit it, I just can't fathom how anyone can tolerate it) but that simply is none of my business. :)