Dream come true

EVER SINCE 2005....

WAITED ALL MY LIFE FOR THIS...

AND IM FINALLY GOING

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SEOUL, SOUTH KOREA

*Confetti* 

bye!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

My future plans.

I think, as the years go by, I tend to become a tad bit indecisive. 

It's frustrating! 

My route to success was flawless. From A levels I told myself I will do well, get into a great local university and get a degree for Communication studies. This part is signed, sealed, delivered. SETTLED. This route I will not mess up. 

It has been my lifelong dream to be a newscaster. I gotta admit. I love the camera. I like to read the news, I like to open my mouth and talk; to convey something whether it be a small message that made zero sense or a huge controversial piece that got everyone talking. How nice would it be! To be able to be on television, all dolled up and fancy, have everyone respect you and tune in to you and LISTEN TO YOU while you read the news on live tv everyday. 

To me, it seems like a dream. 

Then when I began to be more independent and more self-aware, I had this strong desire to partake in the fashion industry. Don't get me wrong. I've always wanted to be a part of something as fabulous as vogue Italia or harpers bazaar since i sashayed in princess dresses and was awarded 2nd for being barbie of swan lake (it was a pageant) but the desire was not overwhelming. It was surprisingly quite subtle. But now, I feel this really......strong gravitational pull to be a fashion editor of a high end magazine. I personally think that you will have a greater edge over people once youre involved in the fashion industry. its like people tend to respect you and they wont belittle you because you are a part of something as influential and highly competitive AND that will get them to acknowledge you!!! how much cooler can it get? it may be hard, arduous work but it lets your passion show, something you genuinely love, something you really enjoy and look forward to despite how much you're close to breaking and how intense the whole industry  is. but you know what they always say: if you live your life doing something you personally love, your job wont be considered as work. 

Then, the most shocking thing happened. 

Lets start things out nice and slow with a little brief background. Ever since I was very young, I hated to fly in aero planes. I found it weird how a plane was able to handle and hold so many people without doing much. It still fears me till today. Everytime I fly, I get EXTREMELY weary and the discomfort gets to me. Handling a 45min flight from Singapore to KL gives me the shivers too let alone my 12h (or was it 7??) flight from Singapore to London. I hated to fly. I never enjoyed it. Each experience catapults me to super frenzy mode and the only thing that occupies me while flying is to silently pray to god, to look over me and my family AND THE PLANE, to land us safely and save me from such purgatory and pain. 

But then. My mum told me.

"Hey why don't you try to be an air stewardess"

At first I thought. "Silly idea". But then as I thought about it, I figured, hey it might not be such a bad thing.  Air stewardesses, even though the peak of their jobs don't really last very long, gets really excellent salary. And money, like how everyone exclaims, makes the world go around. And unfortunately, and very much guiltily, it makes me go around too. 

But I'm still thinking about it. It'll perhaps be the kind of plan that ill carry out when nothing of the abovementioned works and the final option willl just be a flight attendant. It'll be my last resort. (Emphasis on the LAST) (inserts synonyms of last e.g final)

But I'm not hoping for much though. given the indecisive individual that I can be, who knows,...and who can ever know (except god) that I might even forgo the abovementioned 3 and find another calling that I might not have even thought about in my life. 

One thing I AM certain of though. It's that I will nt allow myself to live a bleak and drab life. Because once things go immensely dull and dry, you tend to lose the essence of life and your motive to live will die down. 

And I will not allow myself nor anyone around me, to live a life with no meaning, no vigour, no passion, and no sunshine. This is a promise that I will never break. 

The past few months.

If I had to sum up my first few months in school in one word, it'll be treacherous. Up till now, I'm not fond of my new school. I appreciate it taking me in so that I can experience a solid route to the ever so prestigious a levels but other than that, I don't really have much to say.

Perhaps it's just the environment, the student population, the curriculum. Maybe just maybe. But I can't really put my finger on it. It could very well be even my ignorant outlook on things being run in this school.

This year will forever be etched in my mind because I felt what it was like to lose myself. I felt like I was being forced to do things; like a stringed puppet, a robot specifically wired and engineered to be controlled by people. The simplest things that got me happy, like writing a literature essay, became a task so drab and unworthy. At this particular time, I was emotionally, a mess. There wasn't anyone to turn to because I figured, it could just be a phase- and phases always go away. But I also figured that, this whole predicament that I was going through could very well break me into pieces and the most unfortunate thing that can ever happen, was that I might not even be able to help pick myself up again. 

I didn't know what I was doing. I did everything, though. Everything my teacher told me to do- From class assignments to oral presentations to little itty bitty projects that only weighed 10%. I came to school on time, didnt gallivant after school. Heck yes I was a good student.

But I didn't see the motive of me doing that. I just couldn't see the point. I felt like I was in a asylum. A grey, nasty asylum where there was no trace of a single stroke of colour nor was there one little baby seedling that had the potential to bloom. There was just no livelihood or character in anything that I was performing. 

My life was so boring. I was going out of my mind! Everything was so scripted, so fake. Even if you didn't like to do something you just had to do it. No compromises, no negotiations, no leeway to freaking mess up. Success is definitely key, huh? i felt like they expected me to be nothing less but perfect.... To be so spanking perfect that not even a single stain of misconduct could destroy me.

Living all the way in the east, I detested the distance so much. In exception of the rare golden days that daddy sent me to school, going to school itself was such a taxing chore. Especially on the days where I had to stand for 45mins on the train because.... Well... You know..... Kiasu Singaporeans. 

It just overwhelmed me. The fatigue, the distance, the environment in the school. The stress. Oh the stress! Who would knew that such stress could accumulate into a living breathing monster? Who knew that stress could...could... Cripple you into this giant mess that you never asked for??!!!!

Who knew man...

Who knew.... that i could be so affected 

so defeated 

so..so devastated by something so minuscule by this... 

Such a pity. 

I didn't ask for this.