Monday, March 31, 2008

Crash!

Run all over the hilltop
Shake your head-pom-pom
Fizzy up the brain slosh
Puke through your nose
Feel the wind blown about
Feel not your feet stomping
Windmilling arms for support
Spin your body top
Unfurl like silk in slo-mo
Yellow leaves dancing pixies
Fluttering eyelids as the balls roll
Perfect white silence in a second
Prima ballerina's masterpiece
Lay supine muscles unhinged
As the ground moves to meet you

And crack your egg-head on the pavement.

Kw and No rris.

To me, they are outstanding guys. But they are also anomalies. Maybe in some people's definitions, they aren't anomalies, and their situations are run-of-the-mill occurences. Not I. I couldn't see the logic of such things happening. I can't fathom the....unfairness of it all.

And boy, from your tone, from the way you cast down your head, and the sad look in your eyes. On your beautiful face, one resigned to fatalism.

I can feel it all. Feel it all myself.

Thursday, March 27, 2008

Acceptance doesn't mean you hate yourself

any less.

Wednesday, March 26, 2008

This is depressing.

I've just gotten 2 internship application rejections today. And it's really sucky cos there are very few good internships left. After trawling once more for internship positions, I realised I'm left with very few options. VERY FEW.

And time is running out and I"m getting desperate. However, there is one internship that has got job requirements which I'm very interested in. Real estate. In fact, its the only real estate -related internship. BUT.

It's in Shanghai.

Omg. Up till now I haven't considered overseas internship. And this is really scary. But I talked to mommy about it and yes its true, I have alot of good things going for me if I choose to go China.

We already have friends in China who can give me accomodation. So I don't have to worry about that. Plus mommy knows Shanghai pretty well and the company I would be working for is actually her client. But the most important thing is.... I have dependable contacts in China already to help me around. So I won't get lost.

Plus my pay would be quite high by China internship standards.


How how???


RAHHHHHH! Internship is a biatch!

D

------


Once upon a time

There were 2 best friends
One was Delirium
The other was Despair
One was ugly
The other was just random
One loved to lurk
The other loved the limelight
One was black
The other psychadelic
One was in steady state
The other highly volatile
One was a clown
The other had no face
Together they are Deedee
Both loved the Dark
And they live in WonDerland

The Deedee love to Devour
Everyday they play a game
Who shall be the chef?
Who shall be the steak?
We’ll take turns to bite

After some time
There’s not much Deedee left to eat
But they continued anyway
And gave birth to Death

"Let's make love and listen to death from above!"

There is a need to do stupid and kooky, law-breaking things!

Time to hoard wild moments in my head again. Imprint them for all eternity and lovely flipping of the internal photo album when my temples are grey.

Maybe I should randomly chat up men on IRC on the pretext of offering phone sex. And just as they are about to 'come', start laughing hysterically. Or start talking in a male voice. Or pretend that the mother/father/sri lankan maid just walked in (with accompanying appropriate indian accent).

*Some random group of gay boys I know have all done that!*


Anything outrageous. Anytheeeeeeeeeeng.



*flaps arms about in sheer desperation to do something weird*

Saturday, March 22, 2008

Biggest unanswerable question of the day:

Why is it so hard to follow advice? Even when you know it's good for you.

If I know the 'right' answer, I should do the 'right' thing ... right?

Right??





Wrong.

Today. Was an odd day of sorts.

Today while in et hics class, I couldn't stop myself from talking. Like I just kept raising up my hand cos I really had some opinion to share. I know I should stop, I shouldn't hog, I've done more than enough for class part already. But I couldn't let the thought rot in the head. I had to free it, at the expense of fellow classmates thinking I can't shut up.

Then after class, I had fi im meeting. It's some finance mod. And for the amount of effort I had put into this particular project case, I was going over and beyond what was required. The prof had already given us an 'easy solution' out. But I didn't want to cop out. And more importantly, I was genuinely interested in our own idea and the merits of what we had discovered. And so I chose the tougher road, the one which required me to put in more than what would come out.

And today, I see myself going beyond the minimum call of duty to study, but to really study it cos I enjoy it. And the endpoint was to find the answer, not the grade.

Is this good?


To me its scary. Since when did study become an 'enjoyment'? It feels unnatural. Am I transforming more and more into study machine/academia-obsessed person?


When you start deriving satisfaction from studying. From the actual act of studying, without promise of securing good grades. I can't help but wonder...

Why??

Why this change.

Some people say this is good! This can only be good news! To love what you study is a blessing! You're on the right path!



But I really don't want to over-compensate anymore...

Wednesday, March 19, 2008

ONE MORE reason for us SM U queers to apply exchange to the most difficult university to enter...

U Penn.

Saturday, March 15, 2008

Last night as I lay on my bed.

I thought about this:

Have you ever felt like you're slipping over the edge of a cliff? Your fingers are losing their grasp, you claw desperately at gravel to no avail. You don't have the strength to pull yourself over. Your legs are kicking wildly at nothingness below. It's inevitable, this fall, it's happening soon.... but there's nobody here to help you. Nobody notices.

I've got that feeling.

--------

And just as you think you're about to die.


Help comes from halfway across the world.



God sends you a message.

Wednesday, March 12, 2008

I remember yesterday.

Yesterday. When life held so much. So much to offer. There were so many new things to explore, so many reasons to wake up, so many thoughts to dream. So much... I wanted it all. All at once. And eventually... I did have my all. I explored all the rooms suddenly opened. Met so many new faces. Went for so many events. Understood a great deal. Matured, in some ways. And discovered a purpose.

Now.

3 years later. And I feel I've aged a millenium. You know, I once told someone I 'hoard experiences'. And the more experiences one gathers, the more value he/she adds to her memory. But I guess I forgot one thing. The more experiences you have, the more weary you get as well.

3 years ago. Things were blooming. Buds growing. Small projects in their infancy, being nurtured by the fiery. It was so exciting, the things we were creating. So... ground-breaking. But I feel burnt out. We both did. Me and je remy. Two years on the project and at the end of it all...you just felt so incredibly tired. Sometimes, a thankless task. Sometimes, you question if it was worthwhile at all. But of cos it was. Look at it now. It's in its second run and flourishing. And if you didn't start it, it wouldn't exist...

But even now, you are so far away from it. Maybe because it reminds you of the weariness you felt. The burden and heaviness of the past.

Everything else.... seems to move forward, onwards, never ending march. Every progress is flowing freely and maturing, and expanding. Improving. Yet you feel like you're standing on a train platform. The trains rush past you, forwards. But you're still the same. Stationary. No change.

Maybe change can only be viewed from a third perspective. You can't tell when you yourself are 'changing'. But that idea doesn't comfort when you still feel the same as before. Not totally the same. Less idealistic, more mellow.

In the past, when everything is colourful and new and psychedelic to you... You look beyond yourself. But when you start getting used to the lights and the colours, and start seeing it for what it really is... You can't help but notice yourself once again.

There used to be a goal, which doesn't feel so important anymore. And you can't escape that incessant question in your head, What are you doing really?



Has the fire in your heart gone out?

Monday, March 10, 2008

More evidence that me and gay boys go together like peas and carrots.

We make friends so fast together. Gl enn, this new kid on the block. A filipino guy, quite suave in that filipina way, very daper and preppy in his dressing sometimes. We flirt outrageously. Mar k and him 'jostle' and squabble about who's my boyfriend. And there's loads of physical contact too. Basically I touch them like I own them the way girls do their boyfriend, and vice versa. So much so that even some of the women in church think I'm really a straight girl who has a boyfriend in church. Haha.

I just lluuuurvve the attention. Mmm.

The days slowly chug by... closer and closer towards the end of the semester. The clock looks as though its arms are spinning. Soon the bell is going to ring.

And I'm going to find myself older.

Then I will awake, flop over the blankets and wonder and dread, "What the hell?"

This world is crazy. And I'm getting crazier.


-------

So I got the most outstanding individual award, and my classmates cannot stop ribbing me about how I can 'put my finger on the issue'. And acing three exams all conducted within a week is not helping.

I need a more nuanced life. Balance. Cos now the scales are tipping way over. Some stuff I just don't understand. Some things I feel I don't really deserve. Some things I want more than others.

I've got a lot of question marks. And I piss people off left right center as I steamroll straight ahead. Somehow it's starting to numb. I don't know why. Maybe time is precious. And I hate the waste of my time.

How else then? Do I fit in two ccas, church rehearsals, school, family and still swear not to compromise social life? Y ing wonders how I do it. Cos my time is my gold, and I spend it wisely. When circumstances erase what my time created, I go hopping up and down.

Like a rabbit? Yeah, but fiercer. And nuttier.

But people want more and more! I try to resist. The area govenor wants me to contest again. I want to give others a chance. Yeah right. I just want to 'relac'. Don't wanna chiong every single toast masters contest. Do I need another medal to blow up the head? No, it's going to burst already. And the pressure hurts.

The school has suddenly emailed me again. Advocates? I thought I was booted out for asking an innocent question! No, they want help. More stuff! I stare blankly back.

And my sister is finding information on our summer holiday. 3 countries in 6 months. Not bad. I like to be a globetrotter once in awhile, if time, money and mommy allows. Good to get away from Singapore anyway. Away from realities. Scary realities.

Realities that don't make sense as I grow older. Doesn't help that the clock is spinning faster and I ain't got enough time to absorb.

Only more deluded by the minute.

Sunday, March 09, 2008

Sometimes, my happiest times in church is during worship.

And today, they played a video before the start of service about Jesus. And one of the messages was that Jesus rarely, if ever, talked about worship. He had a lot to say about other things, but worship was not one of them. Yet, worship plays such a central significance in mainstream christianity.

And then later another message appears, saying that Jesus' whole life was an act of worship to God. His actions and his life story was worship enough, he didn't need to do it through his mouth. And how did He worship? He surrendered himself to God completely. His life, his relationships, everything he held near and dear to him.

You know, this is one of the greatest things I struggle with.


To surrender.

What does surrender mean? What does it really mean to surrender to God completely? Do I stop acting? Being pro-active, initiating, creating things through my own means? Leave everything to God? Does surrender mean that one becomes passive?

I really don't know...And it confuses me.

Besides all these questions, there's a part of you that truly wants to surrender. Every sunday before I reach church, I will pass by another church. And they always have banners strung on the fences. This morning, the banner message was a passage from the bible. That if you come to God, you will find rest in your soul.

And that's surrender isn't it? Give everything to God. Give all your thoughts, your worries, your burdens, your hurts, hand them all over. Until there is nothing left, no more stain. Just His peace that fills your heart.

I want that. I want Your peace. To drive everything else out.

And all these years of being a believer, I've discovered one thing. That it really takes real courage to have complete faith. Because it's such a difficult task, one that defies modern day logic, one that has to go against what society is swimming towards (science and atheism). The Christian who can put his whole soul into the hands of God. God's invisible hands. To put the most vulnerable aspects of you into the black. It takes such tremendous courage and strength.

I am weak. And I find it hard to do so. Even when others may say you are brave for coming out, that you are brave for speaking out etc etc. This is nothing, compared to surrendering. The weak amongst us cling onto worldly comforts, ground ourselves in worldly facts and truths. Because they can be verified and they can be depended upon. They are crutches. But there's nothing more brave. To leap into nothingness. To walk blind in order to see. To trust.




But I don't want to struggle with this weight across my shoulders. I don't want to carry the cross of being human and frail and weak no more. Help me get there.

Friday, March 07, 2008

This is really demoralising.

I've got 2 internship rejections already. So fast I didn't even make it to the interview stage!

Maybe there's something seriously wrong with my cover letter, maybe I didn't put enough effort into crafting it, maybe I'm just shooting myself in the foot by applying for the most sought after positions that have double-digit applicants (and of cos they would consider the year 3s more than me)

Either way. It's demoralising.

Last night.

I was puzzled why I identified more with gay men than queer women. And today my F T prof inadvertently gave me the answer. He mentioned that when you grow older, money will no longer be an issue to you. Money will no longer matter.

Maybe that's the concept I couldn't understand, in this youth. But that's the concept that other queer women have already embraced. That money isn't important ultimately.

One of the major differences between my gay and lesbian friends that was impressed/inferred by me through experience ... was that the women don't seem to care much about career or financial success. Whereas it was very important to the gay men. The gay men seemed very driven in comparison, they seemed to know where they were heading, whereas the women seemed... de guo qie guo? Like no life plan. Yeah, not very nice assumptions and inference here. I could be totally wrong of cos. Perhaps its our choice of discussion topics that result in these perceptions. But let's take a hypothetical scenario here: Assuming it's true, maybe that's why I don't 'get' fellow queer women sometimes. We seem to have different life goals.

Then again, if going by the professor's logic, this change in mindset has got to do with age and experience. That would explain the gap between mine and their mindset. But then! How does it explain that gay men their age still have those same career drives to succeed? Those same career drives which are supposed to dissapear alongside with youth? And the gay boys don't just work themselves into the ground you know. They make money, and they use it to live well. Live the high life. Materialism and hedonism galore. They showed me, how you can have your cake and eat it too. Have a good successful career, and still have a happening social life. Don't compromise either aspects. How come money and success is important to the boys, but doesn't seem so to the girls?

And is that why I gravitate more to the boys?

Of cos, there are fellow queer girls who have the same mindsets on career success like me. People like y ing, or cy n. And unsurprisingly, they are the 'typical girls'. The invisibles like me. So is this more evidence that there is a correlation between the way you present yourself to the world (in terms of looks and how you carry yourself) and your mindsets in general?

And is it because gay men tend to look like the invisibles as well.. for the guys' side, that they have similar outlooks to mine? We all pass off as straight-looking people, hence we tend to have goals that mirror straight people. And the further you deviate from the straight-looking norm, the further your goals deviate from the mainstream ones as well?

Maybe? Perhaps? I don't know. Too much pop-psychology for me here. But it does offer some kind of explanation of why I feel oddly like a stranger sometimes amongst my own kind.

Lastly, and finally. With comparisons like this, it always begs the question: Which is better? To be like an invisible? Or to be an 'outlier'? I guess that's like comparing apples to oranges. you couldn't compare and be satisfied with the results. And others would argue for both sides, and the fence-sitters would assert that such comparison is political-incorrect. Heck, everything I've just written is quite political-incorrect.


Maybe I should just shift this to the private blog.

Hmmm.

Thursday, March 06, 2008

Mark said I'm like the newest wave of feminists.

The kind who wants to reclaim their feminity when it was previously discarded in favour of masculinity and the desire for equality with men.

Two days ago at worship practice, I bumped into mar k at cell.

Here's a fellow study machine. We both value our As. He was fretting over his upcoming exams and how he has too little time. (Ain't that our usual refrain?) I tried to calm him by saying, "A 'B' is not so bad. It's not death." And he jokingly retorted with furrowed eyebrows that no, its not possible! It'll be the end, it's a measure of self-worth!!

And we fall into a heap of laughter about not being politically-correct.

And as is always the case with Mar k, we would delve into dissections of human nature, motive and the current social-political climate surrounding the gay community. And I expressed a long-held opinion of mine.

There was a typical girl featured on the cover of Advocate, the gay and lesbian magazine. By 'typical', I mean her physical appearance. It was neither butch nor andro nor femme nor supermodel. It was very girl-next-door. The look of the 'average girl'. It didn't conform to gay stereotypes. In fact, it was so common she could be of any sexuality. But straight away, her look screams "I'm a girl", not "I'm a dyke" or "I'm a babe" or "I'm a goth". It plainly declares that she's a girl. I always felt that this segment of the community was most under-represented, whether on purpose or unintentional, be it in media, in public or in community gatherings. You rarely, if ever, see the 'typical girl' lesbian. They are probably the most invisible. You could barely detect them, for its hard to identify them through looks or dressing.

Yet everywhere around you, in the community (or maybe this is just from my perspective and is only representative of my segment of the community), you see every kind of people but the 'typical girl'. I see sometimes one or two, but mostly nil. Yet this are the people I most identify with in the lesbian community. Here's why: I always felt that the way you presented yourself and your looks, and how you carried yourself is reflective of your perceptions towards gender, roles and where you stand personally in the male-female continuum. And with that comes accompanying viewpoints and perceptions in general. And thus, I could most relate to people who look and carry themselves similar to myself, because they would have similar opinions and viewpoints too in this regard. Of cos there are exceptions to the rule, there are butches I've met who have the perspectives which seemed to belonged more to someone very feminine.

Thus one of the biggest epiphanies about the gay community, or rather, lesbian community I got... was that everyone is just like you only in sexuality. Whereas for the straight community, everyone is just like you except for sexuality. And even though you can relate to those whose sexuality is similar, that's where the relation stops. Oftentimes, I can be baffled at the different lifegoals, outlooks and opinions that fellow lesbians have. I don't understand. Or maybe I just can't reconcile their opinions with my life experiences. And in a big crowd of lesbians, you feel oddly like a stranger. Am I amongst people like me? Or am I amongst people similar only on the surface? Yes. Perhaps sexuality is a surface. Beyond that lies a myriad differences in terms of mindsets etc. Just becos you like girls too doesn't mean that we're the same. Oftentimes, I'm a little surprised to discover how different you and I could be.

So where really? Are the people like me? I've met painfully few. Who are close and dear friends to me, because unsurprisingly, we tend to share the same views. And exactly as predicted, they are like the invisibles. You cannot tell they aren't straight from the way they look or presented themselves. They are... the 'typical girls'.

I abhored the western press for the media representation of gay girls. Becos I feel under-represented. It's covers and pages are adorned with images of thumping dykes and fierce-looking girls. Or supposedly cool Shane-like andros, or fantasy-like one-in-a-million lesbian hot girls. Where are the typical girls? And that said...

Where are the typical girls in real life?

Sometimes, diversity is not my cup of tea. I just want people like me.


--------

It's strange how I gravitate and identify more with the gay boys than the girls sometimes. Or maybe, not so strange after all.

Here's an interesting meme from I rene's blog!

Leave a comment and I will:
1. Tell you why I friended you.
2. Associate you with something - a song, a color, a photo, a word, a smell, etc.
3. Tell you something I like about you.
4. Tell you a memory I have of you.
5. Ask something I've always wanted to know about you.
6. Tell you my favorite user pic of yours.
7. In return, you must post this in your blog

Wednesday, March 05, 2008

Maybe.

Maybe I should've studied law instead.

You know I was talking to y ing just yesterday, and she said she couldn't imagine me in banking. To tell you the truth, I can't either. And I know ultimately I won't work for a bank.

And I wonder about all the courses in school I've taken, all the courses I loved. And they were all about the analysis of language. Situations, words, concepts. Anything mathematical never appealed to me. Sure I could do them, do them well. But they never touched me further than the brain.

There were 3 courses that stood out poignantly. 2 of them law-related. One was biz law. I remembered how I went really really out of the way to find out the answers to the question. How I asked an accountancy (!) prof questions on law. How much it meant to me to get it right. Because it was an issue of logic, and how well you can manipulate logic and reason to fit your stand. I loved the challenge.

Then there was international econs. All logic as well. All about cases, and facts, and cause-effect, how one thing leads to another. And how you have to make logical flows to reach the end-point of your arguement. I even remember one masochistic moment in our group meeting, whereby debate was so heated about the topic at hand... it suddenly dawned on me how much I am enjoying this.

And study. Was never an enjoyment to me.

Lately, there is ethics class, a law-related course. And I love ethics, although people abhor it otherwise saying it's borring, useless etc. But I seriously love the way it forces my mind to think. In logical terms, reason and arguement, understanding the nuances of a particular case. I love it when I can figure out the hidden goodies. The subtle things others don't pick up. I think 90% of the time I make a statement, the prof will respond with a praise. And last week was the most outrageous. She actually spent 5 minutes telling the class how they should answer ethics questions the way I do. Like omg. Major ego-inflation here. But the funny thing is, I speak up not cos I wanna score the participation points (that is secondary), but becos I'm really interested in the topic at hand. I love the way it makes my mind think in a certain way. I love discovering and 'getting the hang' of the case. Sometimes I wonder how come my fellow classmates don't pick up the nuances as fast, or don't get it at all. Or talk nonsense in class. Some days I'm really tempted to talk about high theory and go into lofty dissections of theories and ethics, because it truly appeals to me. But I know I'll go out of point.

It just seems like.. there is this natural apitude towards this kind of thinking...which makes me seriously question the logic of studying for an ethics test. It's all up here already, ain't it? Memorizing will just jar the brain, instead of letting thoughts and connections flow freely.

Same goes for biz law. I speak up cos I'm really interested.

All my Toastmaster speeches were always about logic, and reason, and arguement. And nothing pleases me more to deliver them. Because I love to think in this manner.

And yet I'm doing all this.... finance stuff. Yesterday I went for bloom berg training. And the figures on the screen was absolutely mind-boggling. It was shocking to say the least. It hurt ... trying to dissect them. But give me an exceedingly hard academic paper on logic, and to dissect it would be a pleasurable challenge. Tough, like the numbers. But unlike the numbers, it is something I want to do. It's misleading you know, when you are good at certain subjects, doesn't mean you want to do it for life. For real. So what if I get the maths concepts, and the numbers stuff well. So what if I do above average. So what if exceling comes easy in the areas I feel nothing for?

So what the hell am I doing really?



What the hell.

Sunday, March 02, 2008

A metaphor today.


Gambling v.s. investment.

We all wanna strike it big. Who doesn't? It's deep within our psyche.

Money. Money is limited. Spend it wisely in your lifetime. Becos once you pay, there's no such thing as refund. Just the hopes that you got what you paid for. That money converted into something of equal value.

I could gamble. Or I could invest.

But why gamble? Sure, the payout is immense. One lucky strike and money flows out like droplets from the jackpot machine. But gambling has no end, there is no certainty. You could sit by the machine all night, put in one coin of yours after another. Each coin a bead of sweat you gave up, each scrap of hope in you. Eaten into the machine. Wishing, wishing, that the next coin you put in will yield the big payoff. But that time might never come. As they say, the house always wins. And experience tells you that in life, to gamble is to lose more than win. But it's hard to resist anyway, it's oh-so very seductive. The process so infinitely exciting. You'd never know what might happen if you don't tryyy.... if you don't put that coin in. So very subtle, so very insidious, this trickery. And you fall for the trick everytime. Every damn time. Thinking that a gamble would give you what you want. That your money will yield your payoff. Effort equals reward.

Bull.

Why don't invest instead? Slow steady, but sure rise to wealth. Calculate your risk, your odds and gurantee yourself some certainty of return. Sure, the work is tedious, methodical, and very mathematical. But mathematices and logic has never failed you my friend. And you know how brilliantly you would excel at what you do best. In all instances you applied it to life. In almost all instances. Except gambling, of course. Investing gives you a different kind of return compared to gambling. A substitute. But something, nonetheless. Compared to the nothing that gambling yields. And you know investing is a more rational, logical path to follow, a more reasonable avenue to park your hard-earned money. Money that is limited. Money that once spent, takes something more intangible away from you.

But.

Investment cannot bring you everything. There is something that gambling provides that investment does not.

But!

Let's not forget that money is limited. My money is limited. And there are two choices I have to choose from. And I've always lost at gambling. So the choice is obvious isn't it?

Terribly obvious.

So I have to give something up. If I want to save my money, and ultimately, hope.

Because thrift is something that my mother taught me. And the reason why she has not driven herself into the grave yet. Thrift. Save your money and survive.

Win some lose some. And I mourn over the loss. Have always.

Here's the remainder of my Toastmasters speeches. Completed over the course of this half-semester. 1 and a half years, 10 speeches and 70 minutes of talk time later... I'm a certified Toastmaster =)

----------------------------
Project 8: Visual Aids


Imagine going to a place far far away, a place which is most famous for having the tallest mountain in the world. You’re embarking on a volunteerism project for school, and you have no expectations, no assumptions whatsoever. Just an open mind, a big backpack, and hopefully, a sufficiently strong stomache… for the food there is not for pampered city-dwellers used to cleanliness and hygiene.


Imagine Nepal.


Imagine going to a village on a hill to help improve the villagers’ standard of living. But the trip to the top is not just some simple bus ride. Imagine sitting at the window, and as you look outside, you see beautiful blue skies and majestic snow-capped mountains. But when your eyes venture south, there is no ground below, only a sheer 100m drop down a rocky and impossibly steep hillside. That is how narrow the pathways are. Three-quarters up the hill, our rusty but not so trusty bus broke down. So the whole group of us tumbled out. The guys started to push, the girls, well, we helped by staying out of the way and capturing this eventful moment in timeless beautiful photos. That might not be a high-priority task in light of the sticky situation that we were in, but I’m sure the guys really appreciate us for capturing their expression of masculinity.


Imagine having this kind of living conditions for 2 whole weeks. Here are the tents that you sleep in. All there is between you and a 6 degree celcius nighttime cold is a thick sleeping bag and your 3-layers of clothes. There are no pillows, no blankets, no soft King Koil beds. Only a trekking mat and the grass for cushioning.


This is where you cook all your meals, with the limited rations you have. Every day there will be a solemn chicken-killing ceremony, whereby the curious girls will gather around the chef and watch him chop the neck. There will be a moment of silence, whereby we contemplate the meaning of life and brutality of human existence. But hungry people are hungry people, we ate the chicken nonetheless. Despite the strong emotions felt during the killings vegetarianism, was never an option we considered. The weather is freezing in Nepal, and this is what the water feels like. Imagine a bucket of ice, added with a little water. And then you dip your hands into that bucket. That is the kind of water that we use for washing dishes, brushing our teeth and cleaning our face. Bathing is non-existent. We go for more than 1 week without a bath. But at least, we wash our hair. And the feeling can only be described as a brain freeze. A very nightmarish ordeal for girls with lengthy locks and suddenly, the army hairstyle seems to have its perks.


Imagine putting yourself through all these harsh conditions with a purpose in mind.


Imagine adorable Nepali children, from chubby cherubic toddlers to naughty and playful youngsters being your students. Yes, you help to teach them English. And their wide-eyed sincerity and innocent trust with you, never fails to tug at your heartstrings. And everyday without fail, they would greet you bright and cheerfully everywhere you go. You’ll never be more popular any where else.


Imagine painting an entire school and a library. The biggest canvas of your life. Your proudest artistic moment. Imagine transforming this… to this. And how do you do it? You paint 4-5 hours each day without fail. Moreover, you have to climb up this shabby-looking ladder, with the wood already splintered and the nails half-falling out. Up a 2 meter wall, trying not to look down, shaking with fear, questioning the safety of this project and planning a contingency jumping maneuver should the ladder fail you… You do all this, while trying to wield a paintbrush accurately and praying that paint doesn’t drip into your eyes. But despite the obstacles you face, giving a school a fresh new look, and receiving the delighted praises and word of thanks from the villagers and children, would make you feel more accomplished than any school project you ever did.


Imagine creating improved mud stoves for the villagers, to help address the problem of smoke inhalation. Imagine that this cute little sculpture here is made of mud, water, straw and… get ready for this…buffalo dung. And you mix everything together by stepping into the pile with your feet, moulding it with your hands, and in the process, don’t be surprised if you get dung splattered in your face. Imagine that despite the grime and dirt and shit in your face, you actually play a role in helping the villagers and the fact that they will benefit from your labour, is all you need for motivation.


Imagine returning to Singapore, and knowing that you will never again wake up everyday to the sight of mountains. Knowing that you won’t be able to see awesome sunrises and sunsets again for a long time. Knowing that coming back home, is coming back to the Singapore life, the never-ending rat race, and that the slow contemplative way you lived in Nepal, is a dream you’ve woken up from. Knowing that the world beyond our little red dot, is vast and amazing and truly different.


Imagine if you had another chance to go back there again, you would.

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Project 10: Inspire Your Audience (I did Project 9 last year in some other external club)


Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me. Remember this.


You know, this is project 10. And in some ways, it’s kind of special. So I spent a long time thinking of what I’d want to say. Then last Sunday night, I was reading a Toastmasters magazine while in the pee-pee room, on my throne. And there was this article on the power of words. And I thought to myself, how apt. My inspirational speech is going to be about the very thing that brought me here today. Toastmasters.


Most of you know me as a senior student, a Toastmasters ‘oldie’, not newbie. But I doubt any of you know why I joined Toastmasters. So let me just share with you. Two years back, I was fresh out of junior college. Full of confidence, arrogance, and conceit, who thought she would do well wherever she goes and beat everyone else. Typical SMU student right? So it’s no surprise I signed up at this college with its promises that its students are out-spoken and vocal. I thought to myself, no problem, I’ve given a speech in front of a 1000 people before, back in JC. Although I was standing behind a lectern that was taller than myself and wasn’t that afraid cos no one could see me, the technical fact still stands that I can speak in public.


Then, came the admissions interview for SMU, which shattered my belief in myself. This is how the interview is conducted. Potential students are grouped together and we were given this article to read, and then later, we had to discuss this article in a forum which is facilitated by 2 other professors. And these professors would be assessing us.


To cut a sad story short, I did very badly at the interview. I stammered, and stumbled and couldn’t string together a coherent sentence. My hands were shaking so badly I had to sit on it to stop it shaking. I came, I saw, I failed. It’s a miracle that I’m in SMU today. Either that or it could be my SAT score, but moving on…


I decided I needed help. Not therapy, but something else. My public speaking skills was not what I thought it to be. And so I joined Toastmasters, by the urging of Nathaniel Koh sitting there. And a whole new branch in the history tree of my life opened up.


Up till this point, Toastmasters has been an awesome experience for me. I walk away from every meeting feeling as though I’ve learnt something new every time. I’ve always gained, never lost. And throughout I’ve discovered two very very true and timeless insights about the beauty of Toastmasters, which is what keeps me going and continuing in this pursuit.


The first one, is the power of words. At the start I mentioned a famous line. About how words are intangible and cannot affect us unlike objects like sticks and stones. Not true. Words, have the power to move mountains. And these mountains are people. When I was a budding Toastmaster, I still remember some of those awesome orations by distinguished Toastmaster guests, which astounded me and left an imprint on me till this day. You know, I thought I owned whatever was up here, all my thoughts. But through speeches, this people had the ability to penetrate through and made me think and feel through their perspectives. So I saw for myself, the power that other people’s persuasion can have on me.


And then last year, I saw for myself, the power that my own persuasion can have on other people. Do you still remember the introductory Toastmasters session that we conducted for all the current freshmen. It was a very simple session. We made all of you play a short icebreaker and introduce yourselves to each other in groups. Following which, a few of us gave speeches. Later at night, most of you parted with $10 of your own money. The money collection area was so busy it took 20 minutes to process everyone’s new membership. And after that session, you know, the exco, we just looked at one another. Amazed at the hundreds of dollars now in our cashbox, and wondered, how is it possible… that we offered you nothing, yet you believed. We gave no refreshments, no certification of authenticity that Toastmasters is a legitimate club. We showed the CC manual but most of you didn’t even take a look at it. We just talked and you paid. If by speaking, I can convince someone to give me cash. What else can I achieve with speech? There are no limits.


Speechcraft has many extrinsic benefits. I can make people do what I want them to do, I can convince people of a certain viewpoint just by saying it aloud. It’s all very external. But I think most of us fail to realize that in the act of giving a speech. It’s also a form of carthasis. Because we can base our speech content on anything and everything. So most of the time, we tend to choose topics that resonate with us. You know, everytime I write a speech, it’s like pouring my soul out onto paper. And to deliver the speech, is to breathe life into it. And there is no other place, or organization, which allows you to share about yourself on such an intimate yet public level. Everytime I give a speech to an audience about something I feel strongly about, I affirm myself and my beliefs. And that is why speechcraft is so special in its two-way benefits. Externally you learn the tool of persuasion, internally, you’re given the chance to reflect upon yourselves and then spread that reflection amongst others.


I know many of you, have just begun on your Toastmasters journey. Some of you probably haven’t even done Project one yet. Some days, Toastmasters might seem a tad boring to you, or your favourite speakers aren’t speaking tonight, or table topics was just too tough and you embarrassed yourself on stage. But let me urge you, no matter what, to stay the course. Because a great speaker needs to be cultivated, a great speaker needs to experience and listen to the great speeches which will serve as his bedrock of motivation. Great speakers need to be challenged and they have to fall before they can stand strong. And if you want to be a great speaker, you have to have stamina and truly believe in the value of your speech. Because if you speak from here, you will touch people here. And only then will you move mountains.


But most of all, great speakers must learn to say ‘thank you’. Although the textbook recommendation is that speakers should never thank the audience because the audience is priviledged to listen to them. I feel that without an audience, there is no platform, and without a platform, there is no avenue to project my thoughts and ideas and hopes and dreams and therefore, no one to share myself with. So I thank you tonight, for giving me the chance to share the things that inspired me to continue Toastmasters. And I hoped that I have moved the rock that is you. For only then, can I call myself comptentent communicator Toastmaster.