C is for Choices and Courage

So I've been away this time due to...well, I needed a break to recalibrate my life. A lot people mistake me for an extrovert, however deep inside I'm really a very private and introverted person.

Like a good battery, we all need to recharge.

So I've gotten to conceptualise this post - inspired by the many thoughts I've had. Those who know me, understand that I'm a big advocate of making the right choices. It doesn't take a lot, simply moral courage to do the right thing.

So the next letter C in this relationships sequel is dedicated to Choice.

Choices creep up on us - the daily things, the mundane request for lunch, the everyday-tasks. We choose to arrive to work late or early. We choose whether we want to speak to that cute guy or girl in the lift. However choosing can be very tiring if it were done consciously, logically all the time.

So we also choose with our heart - we choose with what makes us feel good or repulsive. There's nothing wrong with it, after all that's how the great romances begin, why our parents decided to marry...sometimes the brain needs time to catch up to the decisions made with the heart.

Yet the heart is not all-knowing. We make impulsive choices - to have a one night stand despite having partners based on the heart (or other parts of the body). We then sink into depression over the mess we've made. Most of us will have to face the consequences of our actions, but not many will have the courage to respond.

For the record I have no issues with ONS, I have issues when it hurts people around you.

It all starts with saying No. It starts with standing up for a standard above our own. Those guidelines are not simply messages written on a wall, floating about in our conscience. It supports our weight when we go tumbling down the zip line. It holds us up because we can't simply be expected to do it ourselves. Ego tells us we can handle the aftermath, humility tells us we are human and make mistakes. Whichever bible or scripture you choose, to me, it stands for millennia of "I made this mistake, try not to do it too". The timelessness of regret, guilt and avoidable pain is applicable across centuries.

We are human. We make bad choices but at the same time, had every opportunity to make one that was better. It's not always clear whether we're about to commit with the devil, ultimately we never know at that the Y-fork of the road. We could only make the one we regret least. That is good enough. Equally important is to forgive ourselves if we have indeed taken the wrong path and to put aside our pride and simply make amends, and hope that our loved ones have the graciousness to forgive for our errors.

Yet I see people around me, partners, spouses, friends, make choices wholly with their heart - out of anger, selfishness, out of pain and bitterness, out of despair. We also make worse choices when we are elated, blinded by the romance and drunkedness of champagne love.

How then? If we are to make a choice worth our while.

I think this calls for another word; contemplation. No one is rushing you to make a choice - and in this day of instant messaging, it's easy to believe we have to decide now, soon. Contemplation slows everything. Think about the Matrix trilogies. When we consciously think about slowing time, it does. In the same thread of thought, just taking time off to slow down and think of what we want, forces us to be honest. It will always be in circles, we will think of a thousand things at once. But no galaxy was formed without chaos, and with time and some good friends and conversation, this chaos will congeal into a singularity. It will become clear.

When we contemplate, we sometimes that that time to worry instead. It's our space, our realm of freedom to let loose all possibilities. It is a safe bubble where we can let loose our worries. When the sediments finally settle, we will see which weighs us the most and if those cannot addressed, do we move on? Do we not?

I think with practice, allows me to make choices quickly and with serendipity. I still seek this unique balance and suspect I will spend my whole life practicing.

This world is filled with enough things that call for our attention, we need to learn to sometimes not give a fuck, and just contemplate on ourselves. Do I want to marry this man? Should I cheat on my girlfriend? Would he be okay if I moved across continents to be with him?

Is this over?

Having another C word, courage is also important to deal with whatever that comes after. The sense of accountability and responsibility means we must deal with the results of our actions. We often blame others or bad luck for our choices and bad decisions when they don't turn out the way we want them too.

We also cannot be held 100% accountable, ultimately we had imperfect information. We are imperfect as well.

However courage helps us grow into the people we want to be, and we just need to face the music when we did something of harm to others.

(Partly why I believe in corporal punishment for kids)

Choices require time and space for contemplation, and we all need courage to face the consequences of our actions.

I no longer respect, and have no patience for people who indulge in escapism or resort to bullying others when they're faced with the outcome of their actions and leave it to their friends and family to clean the shit they've made. It's alright if we falter once in a while, but too many times just leaves a bad taste in people's mouths.

Life is already hard, we need soldiers who can face the storm together. Choose wisely.

Breaking Up

So I made a vow that I'll post a reflection about love and relationships every week. I've skipped a week because it was such a tough week given my boss's away.

Last post, I devoted A to represent Acceptance, as the resolution for our inherent judgemental attitudes towards people whom we love. We accept what we cannot change, and have courage to support the change of those that we can. The serenity prayer gives me strength when the going gets tough, because ultimately no relationship is perfect and tough-going moments are opportunities for each of us to grow into each other.

Having said, it's often harder done than preached. Many of these lofty ideas can easily be dismissed as ignorant, naive and idealistic. Given the number and circumstances of break up these days, even I get demoralised on most days.

So I have devoted the B to break-up. We have the dramatic break ups that happen; both blame each other, harsh words are said, hearts torn apart. We also have the quiet, subtle, over-the-years drift-apart break ups when both parties leave a little sadder, but also freer. We also have the break up which happens before the couple even got off. The kind of whirlwind romance that lasted for 5 months and then died as soon as it started.

But what do they all mean?

Going through my own frustration break up, I've learnt a couple of things.

1. Break ups need not be messy
I think many times, when emotions are high, and the pride of "not losing", especially when I wasn't the one who wanted the relationship to end, makes me want to do some damage. I think this is where it gets really immature, hurtful, and messy. I cried, I also ranted to my ex-boyfriend then for giving us up. However, I also took the big gulp of air to stop myself from scolding and making him feel bad.

I had a very good teacher once told me, it takes way more courage for a person to say you did something wrong, than it takes for a person to accept the critique. The person also had all to risk, they risk your drama, your ill-affections and most of all your friendship.

I think we are at an age, where we should be mindful that our actions have consequences. We shouldn't be rational - we're human after all. However, know when to walk away from an argument that is going nowhere. My grief is now my own, and my ex no longer need to partake in my own internal storm. Good friends do that, they help you heal and I chose to take that drama elsewhere until I was ready to face him again.

It's oddly satisfying to realise you don't really need your ex-girlfriend/boyfriend to look after you when you're down and out. That was strength to keep me going - to take control back from the relationship and have it sit within me again, until such a time when I'm ready to make myself vulnerable and fall in love.

2. Break ups are goodbyes to our old selves.
I've always held the belief that with every break up, we say good bye to some parts of ourselves. I can safely say, my exes would not be able to connect with me now because I've changed with every romantic goodbye I've said.

We learn from harsh experiences the best, partly because we remember the shit pain that we've gone through and if we didn't learn from that lesson, it's like going through fire getting all burn but gaining no insight.

I think I've shed my old self many times, with every kiss goodbye. I gain clarity in what I want, who I want to date, and the kind of partner I deserve in life. It's also a good process of internal reflection - our insecurities that plague our previous relationship should make us stronger for the next one. I now learn that I need to be less judgemental, more supportive, and definitely wiser for my next relationship. I also gained from this painful but necessary experience, to not lie to myself just because circumstances seem right at that time. To always want and speak the truth of what matters to me - to voice my unhappiness to weed out any inherent problems during dating and we could've all avoided this one big heartache.

3. Break ups need not be about the excuses.
I was lucky, that my ex told me that the reason he broke up with me was because he didn't love me anymore. I have girlfriends blaming their exes for giving the most ridiculous excuses like, "it's not you, it's me. You did nothing wrong, I just want a change". For guys, they ask me for the best "excuse" to break up with a girl. I mean, a break up need not be about the why, nor the how. If one party feels constrained, or doesn't want to commit anymore, the only "why" we have to give is the one that is truest in our heart. It might become a realisation that we actually don't want a break up, but rather a break in habits. Some of us might become too clingy, and the other party no longer find it endearing. Or some of us, might have become too accommodating for too long - not realising we are losing bits of ourselves in the relationship.

We owe it to the other party, when we break up - to break the news in person, in private and with all due respect given. This is someone we still treasure, and now love albeit in a different way. It's a lot to ask, but ultimately, a simple and honest reason gives the other party closure. It also forces us to confront to exactly why we wanted this to end.

Relationships end for a reason, knowing what that reason is clearly, gives us perspective because the last thing we want is to break up, get together again, and then break up again because we oh-finally knew the reason why we broke up in the first place.

It's so tough, and very much unfortunate. Although for some of my friends, I would buy them champagne if they finally broke up - we all have that group of friends whom we find their partners disapproving. Regardless, it's their choice, and their life. And we don't normally see what's beyond their Facebook posts as well.

I think something as intimately heartbreaking, break ups teach us that love is to be guarded selfishly, yet also given freely. I gained much strength from a poem by Albert Camus, and I hope it'll give you strength to walk on during these moments in life.

Credits to Zen Pencils for this awesome cartoon of this most amazing quote!

Acceptance

The theme of the past few weeks continues, about love and relationships. This time with complete bluntness and honesty - about what we want, our values and that "fuzzy" feeling called love.

Acceptance
I recently shared a book with my ex, for the sole purpose of sharing extremely good prose and writing that don't occur often in literature. I've always admired short but brilliant writing, and I wanted to discuss some of the book's thoughts with him, given how we've both survived our break-up to remain as friends.

Perhaps what my heart wanted to do that my mind had to catch up to, was that I was looking for acceptance. I wanted him to accept that my ideas, thoughts, feelings about the book, to have co-passion about those ideas and find that connection that one can only obtain from shared insight.

I was looking for someone to accept who I am, how I thought, and I cared that someone who once loved me would at least understand some of my passions about the main thesis of the book. I cared that he approved of my tastes, about my braininess. I still yearned for his judgement.

I stopped.

And walked away mentally from that space.

I didn't need him to love the book, and indeed he felt it was simply about 2 incompatible lovers. I felt remorse that his interpretation of the author's complex thesis was as such, at the sake time he probably begrudge that "as usual", I read too much into the text. It reaffirms how much we do not give way to each other. We both wanted the other to change into what we both felt was best for the person. We didn't love, we didn't have our freedoms to express our inner-most vulnerabilities because we were too busy telling each other what was best to do.

It's my fatal flaw, that pride and ego, that over-confidence in my own thoughts that I am the best person that knows what's going on. We love because we accept that part of the other who is not perfect, we come to realise our own imperfections are no larger or worse, just different and it's okay. We are all human, and find resonance and dissonance in different things. Beethoven have already shown us how dissonance is beautiful, and diminished 7ths, are no uglier than perfect 5ths.

Ironically enough, my very attempt to seek approval from my ex about the book, is the very thing that draws me further away from him.

Being judged positively, to be placed on a pedestal, is as pathological as being judged negatively. Both represent 2 sides of the same coin. It is the positive expression of ego, it places people in an impossible space, that constant fear of disappointing you. They try harder, it becomes extremely stressful, extremely soul-ripping because humans are not meant to be Gods. We find mutual company in the mundane weakness of our peers. They may have fucked up lives, and some more fucked up than most, but nevertheless, we are all cut from the same cloth. A lover, once saw me as a god-sent, this unique individual, worshiped the ground I walked on. As flattering as it is, it also felt extremely lonely. You are not walking with a person on this journey. You're walking on top of that carpet they have laid down with their innards, flesh, heart, blood....

That devotion is stiffling, and it also starts from the "I". I feel you're too good for me, I feel you are my only, only YOU understand ME. It's equally toxic, and phrased in certain contexts these words become poison. I don't want to be worshiped, I want to be pinned under, with the weight my partner's flaws, insecurities and dreams.

God or dog, acceptance is something that is increasingly lost in the ego-centric world. A friend once told me my values are old, archaic, even extinct. I don't disagree, and I am actually now more okay that I may never find someone who shares these values.

Yet interestingly when I talk to people, we all want these for ourselves, and distract ourselves with so much frivolity, fringe benefits that we forgot at the core of what we want that is Love. So if this is what we want, why don't we be more honest with ourselves and pursue the very thing that is important to us. We complain incessantly, yet have no moral courage to do what we want because we want someone to blame for the speed bumps that come up later. We'd rather hate our partners when we're 45 for not being the partner we want, than to do something now.

This sense of accountability is also an acceptance that we are fallible, to accept that we have to face to consequences of our actions. That everything we do has repercussions of our lives and those around us. We need to take blame for our choices, as much as forgive ourselves for circumstances we could not have controlled. Self-blame, the "oh it's all my fault" is equally egoistical as blaming everything else. It proves that we assume everything was under our control in the first place. Many times the illusion of control is really, it's not.

Perhaps to love ourselves, starts by first removing any judgement that is directed inward, to remove all barriers called lies and comforting "self-talk". To be brutally honest with ourselves, find ways to change those we can change, and let go of things that we cannot. Perhaps when we drop impossible standards held to ourselves, can we come to accept and later love.

the courage to walk

There's been a theme that's been running through my week - one book by Kundera about the unbearable lightness of being, two men who are part of my lives that I both love and cannot have, three men whom I know want to bed me but are attached to their girlfriends, and lastly, four hours of conversation with a friend on relationships in general.

It's given me pause to think about my relationships thus far, and take count of the lessons for last year and this year. It's after all, pretty much towards the end of the year and I've been fortunate to have loved, lost and love again. Part of my conversations with the above friend, revolved around the idea of settling down - why we both face men who are looking to have sex with people other than their partners.

They seemed the "ideal" - 2-4 years relationships, already purchased a BTO, some even bought engagement rings, and still...this happens. It's made me very pessimistic and woeful about the current state of our zeitgeist (spirit of our times) when it comes to relationships. Even my ex felt that "forever" was too forbidden, and impossible concept. That used to give me shivers, but now I can empathise where this mournful dream, fantasy, came from.

As much that it is hard to have hope about one's own partner - that they will remain faithful, to embrace the weight of the responsibility, and take joy in having someone to care for - it is also equally hard to walk away when that burden no longer becomes bearable, when that weight doesn't ground you but sink you.

It's not hard to imagine why someone would choose to cheat, and after being an almost-home wrecker myself, I can understand why men find comfort in the bosoms of their mistresses. Why that escape is something they yearn for. They chose something bigger than themselves, their family, children - and I have friends whose fathers walked out on the families, leaving the mother defenceless and alone to raise her own children, that scene is equally tragic. 

Does it have to be that way? Do we have to land ourselves into an entanglement, that incredible mess before we realise we are currently lead the lives we do not want. Kundera spoke about having only 1 life, and because of that, we have no basis of comparison - that life is not even a sketch because it stands for an outline of something, but when we don't even have a sample of our own lives to model, the idea of a sketch is meaningless. However, I do believe that our lives can be extrapolated, we can "see" and make intelligent predictions of our futures. We may jump to conclusions, but if self-fulfilling prophecies have any merit, if we choose to believe, we then become the very thing we believe in.

So be careful what you wish for.

I think the point really, is that at what point do walk away? I think with life's uncertainties, the foreboding feeling of spending an eternity alone - while most of our friends move on with life and their families is enough to keep most of us within an unhappy relationship. My best friend once asked me after my break up, "have you ever thought that maybe you're just not meant to find someone, and that's okay."

And that's okay.

Those 3 words struck me, and in some ways still gives me great sense of comfort. It's okay to be alone, or perhaps, it's okay to accept that we may not find someone now, next year, or ever - and there's nothing intrinsically wrong with that.

Just as not all of us can become millionaires, it is just as likely that not many of us can find a life-long partner, and even more rarely, find a partner whom we can love for a lifetime happily. It is just as likely that we can find our soulmate, but because we may not have the courage nor stamina to keep up with a relationship, we may also choose to walk away from the person who we will come to love for an eternity. We may come to love each other apart.

Two opposing thoughts: one the unbearable weight of a being caught in a prison of our own making, and the other, the ever-vastness of being adrift forever and ever...

Both require courage to make choices, very difficult and life altering choices for both ourselves and others. Both are not simple choices, both require some kind of a leap of faith to change fate, and both require large sacrifices.

It gives us pause.

That perhaps, happiness is not worth it, it is not worth breaking up families, it's not worth making our spouses cry, scar our children. Happiness - it's not worth the effort to put up a wedding, the whole charade we have to put in-front of our future in-laws, it's not worth crying our eyes out when we lost someone dear to us. 

Love is sacrifice, it calls for us to sacrifice others for ourselves, as much as we sacrifice ourselves for others. Love can come at a high price, and many stories we tell ourselves about love does not mention this enough. For this reason, I have always been cautious about who I love and till now I have not truly opened my heart because the pride of knowing we all wield and deal the power over someone, and conversely for someone to have that power over me, is a step I am not yet courageous enough to take.

But now, I am different - I can start to feels the wall come apart, that love is not all about power over someone's heart- but the ability to empower. Love empowers people, and once love stops being empowering, we must then have the courage to walk away. I am starting to see love (and relationships) in a different light, and with this paradigm shift, my pride starts to be less of an issue. I always had a large amount of pride, to always have to be right. However, when I start to see how loving someone - anyone - is about giving them the space to sometimes be wrong. It is sometimes necessary to teach them wrong thing to illustrate a concept we want someone to learn. It is not so much to "instruct" but to support them when they fall, for a deed given in when, is twice the favour.

As the Kentucky bourbon wanes while I finish this prose, I have a couple of parting thoughts.

The lies we tell others are often the lies we tell ourselves. Facing up to the truth is something we don't do enough. We should never face the truth as a form of necessity, but with courage that whatever the outcome is, we will be okay. We pack ourselves with so much frivolity - careers, money, fame - to keep us distanced from being hurt. We need to have the courage to walk away, whether it be the lives we are leading now, or the walk into the lives we are afraid to have. Love should empower those choices we make, and that agape, that unconditional expression of love, that bearable burden of responsibility of our choices should make us happy and we must also have the courage or choose differently when it no longer makes us who we are.

My life, should be better than my dreams. 

We Don't Cook Enough

We don't cook enough.

Singapore is unique because we have ready-made food at our doorsteps with minimal fuss and prices. Despite import prices, we are lucky to have ingenious hawkers that cook for us. So we really don't have to learn how to cook, or have any reason to learn the use of a galangal ginger or the 100 types of seeds/beans.

I sigh a little every time when I walk into NTUC Fairprice, or Coldstorage, to see the canned and frozen food section expand with every shuffle of inventory. The fresh food places are getting smaller, and even "fresh food" is seasoned wings, or steaks that you can simply pick up and place it on a pan at home.

I am not a romantic - like every busy individual, I eat out more often than not. However, I am also privileged, because my family taught me to cook from a very young age. I know my way around the kitchen. I worry for my peers, for those who are not learning from their parents/grandparents. These precious recipes, and know-hows will one day pass out of our generation.

For instance, do you know you can add salt to orange juice to make them sweet? Or do you know that bread is cooked when you knock and bottom and it sounds hollow? Do we even know how to cook rice without a "rice-cooker"?

I like cooking and baking, precisely because I know what goes into the pot. It's also therapeutic. On the other hand, cooking for my loved ones is my expression of affection. Nothing makes me happier than seeing someone enjoy the food I made. Nothing tastes better than fresh-out-of-the-oven pastry, or straight-out-of-the-wok stir fry.

My best memories about my family, surrounds around the act of cooking. We will hustle around like a well-oiled machine knowing our tasks and "place" in the kitchen. We put aside our phones and electronic distractions, to just concentrate on each other and the task at hand.

Cooking saves so much money, and while I understand for others who experienced it to be a chore, it's a cultivation of habit. So hey, it's always good to make friends with people who love to cook and bake. I am always giving away food ^^

Come by, for tea one day, around freshly baked scones or cupcakes. We can make something wonderful together. You'll be surprised how easy it is!

Stand tall, Don't slouch

As I head to work today, I was reminded of this small nag my mum used to always tell me when I bid her farewell at my primary school gates.

"Stand tall! Don't slouch when you walk."

My mum has many "don'ts" for me when I was younger - so much so that sometimes I felt the American notion of childhood freedom read in Nancy Drews and Sweet Valley High was a taste I'll never be able to experience.

Certainly, my mum was refering to bad posture, and spine problems later in life. My primary school late principal insisted all students carried their bags when they walked into school. Parents or maids who carried bags for the students will be kindly reminded by the teachers and vice-principal (read: malu). The notion is to remind students that the burden of learning and knowledge is really their own and no one else. Also, it also taught me to pack lighter. Haha.

So as a result, we literally bend over backwards to carry our daily load of textbooks. Stand tall, don't slouch.

When I corrected my posture, I could immediately feel the weight of the books threaten to pull my shoulders to the floor. It was extremely uncomfortable, and it hurt. But I could also breathe better, walk faster and eventually I was so used to the load, when there were extra books, it was no effort at all to carry them.

Moving on, when educational levels climbed higher and bags became smaller, the ability to carry the load became such a habit, I don't notice how heavy my "lighter" bag was in comparison to my peers. I was simply too used to the weight.

Reflecting back, what did my mum see when she saw me carrying an obviously heavy bag and walking tall and upright? She must have worried for my spine and all, but more than that, I think she wanted me to me strong both physically and mentally. The sight of a 7 year old walking straight despite a 7kg school bag, must have made her proud.

Doesn't mean she didn't insist on checking my bag every night to make sure I didn't useless things (like books I didn't need that day, paint brushes, a dictionary AND a thesaurus).

Stand tall - persevere despite the load life constantly adds to us. Don't slouch - don't ever let my guard down, never take the easy way out even when it seems like the best idea at that time with no apparent consequences.

My mum was only 1.50cm, she had to stand taller to be heard by others around her. Being the oldest and also the shortest child, I've seen her carry weights more than her petite frame can manage. She took care of everyone around her, saved and scrimp so that I could have the best. She stood tall, and never found an excuse to slouch.

One of my primary school's is perseverance, and my mum's insistence on my posture, her own demands, revolves around this very idea. As times seem tough at work, I must look back at this anecdote, and remind myself to

Stand tall, don't slouch.

SG50: what were we celebrating?

Working in marketing, you get bombarded with SG50 requests long before the SG50 ads pop up. Along the way, I also received similar messages of disappointing arguments in parliament on why single mums should not have the sake benefits, the massive breakdown of SMRT, the billions of dollars thrown into the firework sky and the upcoming elections.

Money never looked so beautiful.

Of course, the shadow cast after 9 August includes whispers of the 10% GST behind closed family doors.

I wonder as a Singaporean who left my country on national day, what were we celebrating? Our freedoms and way of life are bound by many factors, our jobs become increasingly difficult for Singaporeans, as graduates find themselves underemployed. Our ways, defined by awesome fried hawker food, the easy commanderie of the wet markets, the diligence to put our heads down to work for a future, are being undermined by ourselves, deleting the absolute sacrifices of those who came before us for our country.

As we desperately hold on to our entitlements, as the "next generation", I cannot help but feel they sacrificed for nothing. Their own parents came to SEA for a better life, will they smile at our livelihoods now? Will they be happy to learn we work 9-8pm everyday? Will they be pleased that we no longer have families to share our bounty with? Will try be comforted to know we are mostly a lonely nation obsessed with screens?
Yet we also deserve a pat on our back, the thousands of civil servants fighting against an impossible system, the millions of good quality-of-life-changing ideas trashed. The muffled voices of those who spoke up, the unwritten parts of our history....no country is perfect, but at least what Hossan Leon sang before, "at least it's interesting".

We throw up fireworks because of spectacle. I also think we are burning the ashes of the unheard, unsung, unrecognised. I know when we sing the national anthem in D major, what we feel about the future really seems more like Ab minor. We worry because we know we can do better - in some strange way for all the merits of LKY's legacy, the pursuit for perfection in combination of gumption to succeed did rub off the rest of us.

My father has been watching the old speeches of LKY, and in all intents and purposes, that man can really rally a crowd. He spoke with sense although his logic might not always be proper, people were ready to listen because he had the art of persuasion down to a tee.

"You will trample over us, over our dead bodies."

As a Singaporean, I feel privileged to be able to speak English flawlessly, to also be able to converse in Mandarin and some French. I travel with my head held high knowing my passport is respected everywhere. As we build Singapore, may we never shield our children from the harshest part of our history, may we never shelter and protect them from the stakes we play to get here. May our children never shy from asking difficult questions about their government, that they may also develop the capacity to express themselves most persuasively. May they be proud of the fact that they can call this ever changing landscape home.

It's a country with many idiosyncrasies, we hold on to those quirks very seriously. We jump into delightful Singlish when we bump into each other abroad. I had a friend who said, "walao, you know I am damn happy to how to see you. Can speak singlish and faster, the angmohs here all have to speak slowly one."

Indeed, our thirst for growth reflects in our speech and efficiency. We compensate our low productivity with long hours, while is a bad thing, nevertheless shows our willingness to still work for it. This is a country of hardworking people who try to make a way.

This is my home, my country, and my (sometimes jin jialat) people. We are not family, for we came from all over and never had a shared identity in the traditional sense of the word. We bond over kopi-o and teh-c siudai. We laugh at our politicians and curse at the rising GST and retirement ages.

I don't wish to whitewash our bitterness as a Singaporean. Anger is important, that fire and passion, tempered by logic and patience for delayed gratification - "for our kids" - is something I never want to let go. I am fiercely proud of my island despite my vast interest in everything and anything anglo-franco phone. We are not nationalistic, as nationalism has never been good for anyone (Nazi Germany anyone?). We are a community of a very small and limited species. For that, we become fiercely protective of our culture and practices because we are the only ones who care enough to do so.

"Welcome to Singapore, and for Singaporeans, welcome home."

I did not celebrate SG50 because Singapore is not 50 years old, our grandparents are older than that and have endured much much more (WWII, and all that).

"Due to track fault, please expect up to 15mins additional travelling time."

To all my fellow Singaporeans, Majulah Singapura. It will take us additional 15 mins to travel in this stuffy train and we will complain like mad, but we endure and move onward.

Of course, we also know in the next coming election, who to blame of this stupid delay. #justsaying