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| So. It has been 9 months since I last blogged.
Am I back?
Perhaps.
Or I may be moving to a .Mac account.
Preferences?
Either way, I have promised people to keep them updated this coming
year via blogging. It's just a question of which one will be more
convenient and fun. I'm leaning towards .Mac.
PS: I hid the last two posts. The last one because it was just too
gory, and the one before because now I can start afresh with
introducing all that is NU.
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| Farewell Singapore
Good
Bye Singapore. I thank God for bringing me here. And to all who've
played such a large role in my life here, you will not be
forgotten.
Countdown. Last 15 minutes at home.
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| Memories
Its come to that time. Finally its winding down.
These past three days I've started slowly to hack away at the huge mess that is my room.
For those of you that don't know, and I'd be surprised that you didn't,
I'm a sentimental pack rat. I've found all these papers from Sophomore
year that I haven't thrown away, in thoughts that I would like to look
back on them someday.
That day has come. But not as I had foreseen it. I had imagined a lazy
hazy afternoon when I'd kick back in my chair and read through my past
essays that I was very proud of. Or read through old notes that I took
so much time to carefully write down in class.
Even though that's not exactly how it's been happening, I've been
finding it very hard to toss away old pictures that I know I'll never
look at again. Pictures from Hong Kong, that are blurry and faded.
Pictures of the old courtyard and the old caf. I had a whole pack of
pictures that were obviously from one of my yearbook shoots. It just
contained all these random shots of sophomore year. It was nice going
through them, and I saved some, threw some away, and decided to turn
the rest into SAS' archives.
Then there's all the old music I've played since Freshmen year.
Epinicion, Amazing Grace, Sleigh Ride, Patapan. All wonderful songs,
and each bringing back warm melodies and memories. And somehow, I'm
afraid that once I throw away these sheets of paper, I will lose that
faint glow that still resides within the recesses of my heart. So I've
been spending countless hours sorting through music, throwing away
those that I didn't even remember, and filing the rest away. At one
point, I thought to myself how silly this notion was, of spending hours
on sorting through orchestral music, that you would never play again.
Choir music, perhaps you might sing, but wind ensemble music, if I do
decide to join a band in college, they always give out their own music.
But I went on organizing all the music, and as each piece was filed
away into the flimsy plastic folder, it went with it a memory of high
school. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone Medley for Symphonic
Band, The Fellowship Of The Rings Orchestral Arrangement. Images of
Victoria Hall, Hong Kong Cultural Center, and many other memories fill
my mind. Music has played such a large part of my life.
I even found Jingle Bell Rock, which I performed with Alice Anderson
in...was it 8th grade? As a duet. Stirs up images of the HKIS MS Black
Box, and I remember watching Little Shop of Horros in there, as well as
the musical with "Fat Sam's Grand Slam." *grins* Handbells. I started
that in what, third grade?
It seems that my life has come around in a large circle. Starting
almost where it began, in more ways than one. For one, my brother was
born here, in Singapore. And that's really when I can remember back to.
I was two and a half. Those are my earliest memories, of swimming for
the first time. Of dropping a single scoop of ice cream on the floor,
crying, and the nice lady giving me two scoops. And now, 16 years
later, I'm back in sunny sweaty ol' Singapore.
And then there was singing, once again we find ourselves back at music,
after dropping it to pick up the shiny instruments offered in 6th
grade, I've finally picked it back up in my senior year of high school,
(even though there always were church choir times).
And then I look further around my room. At the posters that hang, and
the pictures that sit on my desk. There's one of my cultural family:
Danny, Chelsea, Angela, Jason, Wes and You Bean on the plane home from
JIS. And right next to it a picture of me and Nitika on the swings at
ISB. And a whole strew of other things. Each triggering its own smile.
Like the slew of Charlie Brown items that now adorn my desk. The
graduation painting that Ally gave me of Shroeder on the beach. The
Newsflash clipping of You're A Good Man Charlie Brown "FIRST-EVER SAS
STUDENT-PRODUCED MUSICAL A SELLOUT!". Heh.
And I think about all the stuff that sits on my desk now, and I know
that they will soon give way to newer memories. New friends, new faces.
And I wonder how I will react to all these pictures when I'm graduating
from university. Will I easily toss them aside? Or will I carefully
look through them, selecting those that I knew were closest to my
heart? I hope the latter. But how can one ever tell with these things?
My room is in a state of utter mayhem now. Yes. I did say I was cleaning up. 
But with cleaning, things always get much messier first before it gets
clean. And that's the way I like it. I'm just floating along, and
waltzing down memory lane (there you have it, my own spin on a cliche),
allowing myself to dilly-dally and reminisce as I please.
Time has, for the moment, stopped. Or perhaps the world has just slowed
to a snail-like spin. Others may continue to go along, but I'm
fascinated, and enthralled in my own world for the moment. 18 years.
Has it already been 18 years on this earth? A quarter of my life
already spent? And yet, at the same time, it has been 18 years, oh so
rich. The words that play up out of pages into laughter from yearbooks
are enough to prove the worth of 18 years.
Well. It ends in a way that you don't really expect. You expect it to
be teary eyed, where you're clawing tooth and nail to stay. You expect
it to be as if someone had snatched away your favorite stuffed toy, or
the last piece of pizza that you were reaching for. But it
ain't--isn't. It's a very slow process, one that's just right.
You simply realize that it is time to move on. You've outgrown this
shell, as the hermit crab does, and its simply time to find a bigger
one. And as you toss off this shell, and scramble out into the wide
unknown seeking a more fitting abode, your pulse quickens, and your
mind races, at the wide expanse before you, shrouded in mystery. Many
have ventured before you, seeking adventure, and a life of their own.
And little have returned to tell the tale of their story, leaving a
sense of dread, and yet excitement in the air.
Nine more days. Nine more days of humid sticky hawker centers. Nine
more dinners under Singapore's neon lights. Nine more. Just Nine.
Nine's a nice number, ain't it? I think it is. Even though seven is my favorite.
Ahh well, I have rambled and gone on for far longer than I had
originally intended. But I bet you've grown used to it now. And if not,
well, there's more time to come for you to get used to my rare
ramblings.
*stretches* It's time to move on. And for all of you still here, don't
worry. Your time will come soon too. Enjoy the years you have left,
don't let it slip by as you wait eagerly for University to approach.
*nods like an old sage* heh. Its late. 5:25am.
You know what to do. Leave me a message with your thoughts, if you'd be
so kind, and if you managed to get through this whole post without
going off on too many random tangents.
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