Q

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    I still keep a schedule in physical form. 

    Standard school-issue journals throughout my convent school days might have a role in shaping this habit in my formative years. In JC when diaries weren’t given out, i became a loyal fan of Muji weekly planners.

    Sometimes i do wonder why i’ve not exported my days over to electronic planners. It is indisputably more convenient: there are too many times event changes upset me not so much for the schedule disruption than the ugly cancel marks it’s gonna make on my planner. Haha. It’s more accessible, more compact, more flexible.

    But i’ve stuck with my physical planner. I’ve always thought it was habit, but it really doesn’t explain my stubborn refusal to switch platforms. Then it struck me: i have an implicit fear that one day digital data will collapse upon itself from its sheer immensity.

    I’m not sure how irrational this fear is, but as a child of the computer age – having been there for the birth and frightening acceleration of e-advancement – i am inherently wary of its sustainability.

    I straddle the ridge between hardcopy world of mountain, sun, and organic daisy fields, that drops into a dark, mystical, swirly void of digital data. I’m too young to stay independent of such technology in my daily life, but too old to be free of all skepticism.

    Sometimes i’d stop and think about all that data i have in my Mac. The dozens of files, the hundreds of documents and images, millions and millions of words. I am overwhelmed just by the sheer amount of information contained in my laptop. I am often petrified imagining the total informational weight of the internet.

    I guess my question is how. How is it possible that humanity exploded into this hyper-intelligent species capable of condensing so much into so little? I am equal parts impressed and suspicious. There is no way my fear that all my digital notes, blog entries, and photos may one day drain into oblivion from a single binary coding glitch.

    Maybe a century from now someone might read this and laugh at the awe and unwarranted anxiety experienced by a person tentatively rooting into the infant years of computer technology. Or maybe no one will read this because somewhere down the road a plug is pulled and all we’ve coded online tumbles into a digital sink hole.

    September 7, 2014

  • Suspension

    When i’m on a vacation, especially as a child, i find myself in a very particular mood-state. This is where language fails me with its clunky inability to condense nuanced specificity… i’ll label this overarching mood as “suspension”.  What i feel is a blend of quiet, surreal thrill, a disjunct from everyday life that is at once uncomfortable yet pleasant – thrown into the mix is a good dose of homesickness. It is potently contradictory and overall, can be quite disturbing if i weren’t distracted by vacation activities.

    I’m very prone to homesickness — i feel like this should be qualified as a possible basis of my weird emotion tumult to what should be every kid’s favorite time of the year. I get immensely homesick everywhere and anytime possible: sleepovers, holidays, camps… in fact i even get homesick at home. And by homesick, i don’t merely mean missing the physical space of my house. By homesick, i mean a terrible toxic cauldron of unfamiliarity and displacement gurgling inside, telling me i’m not where i should be, that this place has no place for me, that i should be somewhere else except i don’t know where that is.

    For some inexplicable reason, i’ve been hurled into a quicksand of suspension since a few days ago. I’ve gotten that before: in Sec 3, for a period of time i felt vividly like i did back in primary school. It’s difficult to describe because “Qing in Primary School” is not a qualitative emotion, but that was exactly how i felt. Sometimes i enjoyed it, because i felt (superficially) carefree – other times, specifically when i’m reminded of how i’m not in primary school, it was just immensely oppressive.

    Basically, what i feel now is “Qing on a vacation when she was 11”.

    Which is problematic because i am not. I’m not 11, I’m not who i was back then, i could never go on a vacation in the same terms and context as i used to. It’s the mood-state of suspension with a stab of nostalgia and the pervasive knowledge of loss: that my childhood, that period of my life, cannot be replicated. It’s like a ghost of an emotion haunting me, if that even makes sense. If ghost is too trite a term, i should maybe call it a poltergeist: it mocks whoever i am not and don’t have now.

    It’s pretty bad, except subtly so. Which is worse. My immediate emotions derived from the suspension mood-state juxtaposes with my secondary, underlying one – derived from understanding of my current self and context. How do i justify the underlying discomfort to my immediate feelings of dream-like suspension?

    I want it to go away. I guess it is better to live in the present, whether it’s relatively more or less pleasant than the past.

    September 3, 2014

  • Factoid Generator

    I may actually have outgrown this blog: something i prayed would never happen.

    Its no longer the perfect medium for my musings, because i’m stricter with the form they take. Or rather, i’m more conscious of an imaginary audience who would be strict with the content of my thoughts. Hopefully this is just a phase, and i’d eventually develop either a) intellectual rigor to produce substantiated posts or b) shamelessness whereupon i’d just dump my insights in raw and be ok with criticism.

    In the meantime, desperate for an outlet, i’ve taken to physical diary-writing. This is something i’ve not done for a long, long time (since i started this blog in 2006 actually!) So i guess this is kinda a reversion than anything else. Behold my freakishly neat text, at least until the end of the page:

     

     

    wpid-wp-1408888336462.jpeg

    I may also have been unwittingly subjecting my friends in real life with more of my sporadic factoid outbursts, which may or (more frequently) may not be of interest to them. J pointed out that i have this tendency to introduce completely random facts to people, which are not conducive for further conservation, and thus makes things awkward. This discussion took place after a Mug’s dinner, where yes i do take liberties with, and often do as i please without considering social norms (because none of the Mugs adhere to this).

    J, in one of his cutting wit moments, mumbled “autistic” when i whined on about how i just enjoyed sharing interesting factoids with friends. OFFENSIVE and never letting him forget this (!!!) It’s true though, in retrospect. That i have been using sentences very enthusiastically of the structure: “DID YOU KNOW THAT (insert psychological findings / weakly explained philo-physics / anything on my Feedly)” So maybe i have been a little excessive with that…

    I’m sorry if any of you were subject to my outbursts. I guess it’s cause i’d rather have friends i know than unseen strangers on the internet judge me.

    –

    On the other hand, my discussion with J took a weirder turn. His point was that people might not want to know or think about whatever shred of information i’ve dished out – because the topic isn’t of their interest. I insisted that people are, and that i’m always curious to know about issues i’m unfamiliar with. He attempted several times to initiate a topic that might bore me but failed. At last he landed on how binary works on computers 101010001011: he knew so intricately about the mechanisms, and i on the other hand was so fueled by fascination, that he spent quite awhile explaining its entire operation. And ended up being very impressed by his strangely detailed understanding of binary.

     

    August 24, 2014

  • Anger

    “This can cause a subterranean anger to build inside the Nine’s psyche, which can erupt into consciousness in occasional fits of temper which quickly blow over, but which more often manifests itself in passive aggressive foot-dragging.”

    Type 9 descriptions were the most spot-on with this aspect.

    I’ve always known it about myself. On better days i see myself as conciliatory and harmony-seeking, on critical ones i recognize my fear of confrontation disguised as peacefulness. To be frank, i still consider my avoidance of conflict with others in positive terms. There is nothing i find more unnecessary than discord when things can always be resolved in quieter ways. I dislike chaos, noise, messy and effusive outpouring of emotions against each other.

    What i don’t admit to are the problems associated to my faulty internal anger regulation mechanisms. It’s true that i refuse to face up to my anger – i tell myself that it’s difficult to jolt me into anger, that i seldom feel it towards others, that even if it does arise it diffuses. The truth is probably closer to what enneagram revealed: that i let it build until i can’t keep it in anymore.

    I can’t even deny it because i’ve witnessed those outbursts. On most days placid, almost nothing can get a rise out of me. It festers and then an insignificant trigger can set me off. Yelling in the canteen and then hiding out in a corner in school until my friends spent half an hour coaxing me out, silent throwing of furniture and then five minutes later obediently putting everything back into place, shrieking in the park… it’s these maladaptive expressions of anger i need to correct.

    And by correcting i don’t mean reign in – because reigning was exactly what formed these outbursts. I thought i was ‘in control’ when i stop myself from revealing anger in smaller doses. WELL i was wrong. Most of the time i wait until i’m alone to let them out in full, and it’s not a pretty sight.

    Having lived this way for 21 years i find it difficult to operate in any other way. Allowing myself the privilege of anger when it’s due requires anger towards another. External conflict might come into play here, and i’m mortally afraid of it.

    Try though, i will.

    August 20, 2014

  • August

    There are some things that never leave you. The recurring image of your shrinking self, running – always running somewhere. Thing is, i’ve managed to sweep away most of what happened: i don’t remember us actually talking. I can’t tell you exactly what we did or how we were. All i have are these frames, almost like gifs. It exists in isolation from time and everything else. I am used to avoiding it.

    –

    Recently, Gee told me about Enneagram types which she swore was eerily accurate for her. Most of the time i have my reservations about personality categorizations. Even if i do try them, i try them through the lens of a psychology major – that is, aware of all the failings of type tests. This one though, was pretty good. I found myself identifying very strongly with Type 9. It articulated aspects of me i’ve never really thought about but would reluctantly admit to be true. I also like the Enneagram’s applicability to self-improvement. It emphasizes on the continuum (from unhealthy to the healthy ideal) your Type exists on. Will look into this more another soon.

    – 

    Sunday was Bagsy’s 21st, a very early one before she flies off again.

    It was one of the best parties i’ve been to for a long, long while to be honest. Unabashedly childish, uninhibitedly loud with plain, clean fun. Also, as is ALWAYS the case when Becks and her family is involved, THE FOOD WAS GLORIOUS.

    Most of all Bags seemed to really enjoy herself. I’m so glad for that. So much of the time, playing host exhausts the anxious host who should be the very one basking the festivities. BECKY WAS VERY MUCH THE STAR OF HER GLITTERATI PARTY.

    OUR QUEEN.

    Linus was pretty much the perfect GameMaster. I adore his earnest hosting so much, haha.

    Speaking of kids.

    I’m still dreaming of my pre-school students. Miss them terribly. Need to get a grip on myself and my raging maternal affections.

    August 19, 2014

  • Blogging

    There’s a good reason why i’ve been blogging less. Well. Not really a good one. I used to be so indulgent and inhibited with my writing it’s horrifyingly embarrassing. At the same time i need to give props to the past me: A+ for courage, girl.

    It’s not that i have a huge readership now, but i’ve realized the potential debate my posts can trigger. I wish it didn’t, but that deters me from posting unfiltered. Because i know how flawed and biased most of my thoughts are. A more academically rigorous Qing would close up the specious rips in her arguments. Not me i want to drink hot milo and sleep by midnight.

    It’s sad because so many times ideas or thoughts would bubble into being, cry out to be explicated, but fizzle out without claiming an appropriate outlet. They are conceptual fetuses – pathetic and raw and helpless. I was okay with throwing fetuses into the cyber-void once upon a time. Now i’m too conscious of public evaluation.

    –

    Anyway, school has begun (!!) (?) I’m equal parts thrilled and reluctant. There is nothing i love more than stewing in slothfulness on my bed all day with YouTube. At the same time, there is a masochistic pleasure in hammering my brains about all day.

    Today i thundered through my readings. The professor warned us that the paper would be a difficult one to understand. Personally, the indigestibility stems from it being quite a shitty paper, not a tough one. There is a difference. I’m in a very critical mood today. In the margins of all my readings i scribble angry black words and feel unjustifiably smug and superior.

    Goodbye.

     

    August 13, 2014

  • Y3S1

    Kickstarted Y3S1 having breakfast with Manda and J. Made up slightly for my apprehension with staying in RC this semester. What with the high-risk dengue and screwed up door lock etc, and of course general homesickness – i’m beginning to think maybe staying home wouldn’t be such a bad idea. :-<

    Oh well.

    Going through rather severe creative constipation. Not that i haven’t had that since 2012 so what’s new. Can’t write, not feeling the itch to sketch, don’t even have much to blog about. I blame this on my stagnant brain during the holidays. Maybe i need academic preoccupation, or the relevance of procrastination to stimulate some form of creative output.

    On the other hand. Very hooked on the Hitch hiker’s series. Can’t believe it took me this long to start on them.

    This is simply an update.

    It is raining. Balls.

    August 12, 2014

  • Change

    Welcome to another episode of Qing’s narcissistic introspection.

    As with good dental flossing habits, my present self is eternally grateful to my younger self for dutifully cataloging my life online. I’ve lost count of the times all i needed to flesh out my reminiscing was a few clicks into my blog archives. So thank you, 2008 Qing, again, for posting up your Johari. So that 6 years later i’d have the chance to do a quick compare/contrast.

    People love think about how much they’ve changed. #whatpubertydidtome #throwbackthursday #etcetc. Granted, the sample size here is less than ideal… but still, it does give some insight into broader shifts in character i’ve undergone.

    2008:

    Screen Shot 2014-08-05 at 9.57.13 AM

    2014:

    Screen Shot 2014-08-05 at 9.57.27 AM

    Things:

    1. 2014 me was genuinely surprised that people found me energetic, while 2008 me perceived myself as energetic. Relative to my younger days i am VERY. LETHARGIC. Often i’d internally lament about how much age has tripped, seized, and pulped the immense well of energy i used to operate on. I think someone once described me as “Energizer Bunny on Crack”. What i am now has nothing on 2008 Qing. Thus the surprise. But yeah i guess by population standards i’m still pretty high most of the time.

    2. Still pretty much without a facade. “Ingenious” in 2008 was probably more of shameless self-optimism on my part, haha. Most aspects of me are still bared out there, much as i’d like myself to be (sometimes) shrouded in a mystical air of elusiveness. Pretty much an open book, then and now.

    3. Seems like i’m no longer happy.

    4. Most though i was cheerful and friendly in 2008. Most think i’m independent and intelligent now. And also the energetic, always energetic. AM I REALLY THAT ENERGETIC. Maybe only on caffeine. God i love caffeine. I’m now on caffeine. Anyway.

    This shift does explain the disparate changes. “Responsive, warm, extroverted” as opposed to “knowledgeable, logical, reflective, observant”. And proud, i’m definitely proud. PRIDE WILL ONE DAY BE MY DOWNFALL. Was expecting this: i’ve definitely withdrawn somewhat and focussed more on reflection. This shouldn’t discount my ability to interact with others, but i guess it does.

    5. I’M NOT SELF-ASSERTIVE. At all. I am crippled by the inability to confront and assert.

    There’s no huge shocker here, but it’s nice to know that i know how i’ve changed. 

    August 5, 2014

  • Kids

    Didn’t expect leaving the pre-school to be this rough…

    Don’t get me wrong, it’s EXHAUSTING herding little toddlers around all day. I have incredible respect for full-time pre-school teachers now. You’re literally on your feet ALL THE TIME: pulling fighting kids apart, removing play-doh from tiny mouths, cleaning poop, wiping butts, feeding, cleaning, reading stories, answering ENDLESS questions, singing repetitively, yanking stubborn ones out of playhouses… it never stops.

    I was also surprised at how obstinate some kids can be. Washing poop off butts? No problem. But there were times where kids REFUSE to listen. You can’t lose your patience, because – KIDS. They are 18 months old you can’t reason with them on why trampoline time is over. You can’t stop them from screaming and kicking in protest because they can’t string a sentence together yet. The inability to channel blame on someone, and the helplessness when they insist on disagreeing – god it drives me mad. But THEN I LOOK AT THEIR TINY ADORABLE FACES AND I MELT.

    This is really my undoing. I’m way too soft. Usually i end up cajoling. Even my firm moments are obviously collapsible with a little bit of whining AND THE KIDS KNOW THIS. That said, there are the sweetest ones that look at your adoringly and tell you things in the softest voice that kills me inside. Even the difficult kids have their moments. I LOVE ALL OF THEM.

    One kid in particular reinforced how much of a failure-mom i’d be. He didn’t seem to understand or speak English, would go around knocking other kids about, refused to stay still for activities – basically he does the opposite of whatever he’s told to. At one point he fled the classroom and i went in pursuit of him, running around in the wet mud with my still half-broken legbutt. Caught up with him but he refused to be had. Just as i was at the brink of insanity i looked at his rosy chubby cheeksies and bright eyes and cutesy self and i exclaimed I LOVE YOU!!! and couldn’t help but hug him i wanted to kiss his lovely face forever omg i was insane.

    Anyway he was so confused by my undue affection he froze – which was perfect cause i used the chance to whisk him back HAHAHA.

    Yes. I want so badly to have kids i don’t even!!! These little ones are not mine and already i feel such a deep level of love for them. The things they say and do, their spontaneity and ingenuity, the unrestrained way they dance and ran and jumped and climbed and sang. Childhood is really one of the most beautiful things in life. I can watch them at play all day and not get sick of it.

    I’d never be a kindergarten teacher as a long-term career, of that i’m sure. So i’m very, very glad to have had a chance to work there for a short time, just to be with kids: to be near their joy but also to learn how to manage them – behaviorally and with other house matters.

    This sounds borderline creepy, but after quitting i’ve been dreaming of all the kids back at the pre-school. Altogether there are over a hundred of them, i’ve helped out with about 3-4 classes and i love them all equally but in different ways. KIDS ARE SUCH JOY.

    –

    In the coming semester, i’d be volunteering with children’s cancer foundation. I’d be working with kids too, but with entirely different dynamics. Not sure if i’m mentally strong enough to deal with kids who don’t have the childhood they deserve. Really hope so. xx

    July 27, 2014

  • Confusing feminism with misandry

    Before anything, i identify myself as an egalitarian. If i were to endorse feminism, it’s because gender inequalities are inherent in many parts of the world. No one – men or women – on the basis of being human, should be artificially disadvantaged. There are times, though, when arguments under the guise of feminism strike me as misandry. There is a difference between establishing equality by granting women the rights they deserve, and destabilizing men to equalize via inequality. That isn’t progressive, which feminism should be.

    In some instances, radical feminism imposes the same constraints and judgments on their ‘less feminist’ counterparts. How is that any better than the patriarchy they so loathe? I’m talking about ‘feminists’ who strongly oppose willing stay-at-home moms/wives, who despise men for feeling the need to protect their spouses because it is ‘chauvinistic’ and ‘demeans women’s power’. Of course, that is a small minority of the feminist movement. But their voices are loud enough to color the positive and progressive campaigns by true feminists. 

    Why #womenagainstfeminism took root can be attributed to distorted understanding of true feminism, because of misandry-disguised-as-feminism. That, and because most of us are riding the waves of successful feminist movements prior to our time: the lack of perceptible oppression in our immediate society makes it difficult for those without contextual knowledge to empathize.

    Having spent most of my life in a girls’ school, and surrounded mostly by SNAGs, gender divides to me appear arbitrary. I’ve never seen myself as a victim of gender prejudice. In fact, i think most social environments i’ve found myself in condemn discrimination of women, and are less hostile to females. This, strictly, is a form of positive discrimination – but hey people are being nice to me, i’d take it.

    What i’m trying to say is: of course feminism should exist. Just as human rights organizations are significant, feminists are fundamental in grounding and furthering the progress of gender equality everywhere.

    But it scares me how quickly #womenagainstfeminism were dismissed. The predominant sentiment online – and the one implicitly deemed ‘correct’/expected of open-minded individuals – is disbelief, disgust, and then jeering. It scares me because there i can understand the rationale behind some of their words, the very words considered wrong and regressive by most of the internet.

    “I don’t need feminism because i don’t need to demonize men to make myself feel good.”

    This line was tossed around many times, lost in a cloud of less meaningful claims. I don’t agree with the first part: we do need feminism. But yes, we don’t need the kind of feminism that demonizes men. Neither do we need a feminism that dictates what a woman shouldn’t do because it is considered demeaning to their gender.

    Don’t dress up for men, don’t give up your career for your children, you don’t need men.

    Feminism isn’t about that. It’s about the right of woman to do what they truly want, independent of social pressure of any kind. 

    We need #womenagainstfeminism to understand that feminism is necessary, but to do so we need women to understand what feminism actually is. By cracking down on them, invalidating their words and labeling them as obstructions to progress will only reinforce their distorted perception of feminist intolerance.

    #Womenagainstfeminism are entitled to their opinion, just as any other woman is (feminist claim, right there). They are speaking out against a whole different set of oppressors – other women instead of men. The issue is complicated because of the muddy division between their oppressors (misandrists/extreme feminists) and the very people who freed them. Instead of reacting as they would expect feminists to, show them what real feminist is and isn’t.

     

    July 24, 2014

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