The thinness of life.
written: 12:52 a.m. on Sunday, Dec. 28, 2008

It is not meant for me. It isn't, it isn't.

It isn't.

I found myself missing Taipei less than thirty minutes after I came back to Singapore. The irony is, when I was in Taipei, I was bored enough to seriously detest the idea of extending my stay if it so happened that my ear didn't recover in time for me to come home. When I was in Taipei, I took issues with the stench of sewage that lingered in the air virtually in every little crook and cranny of the Taipei streets, Taipei lanes, especially the narrow lanes through which some gungho drivers insist on trying to squeeze their cars; I was annoyed by the completely non-existent primacy that drivers gave to zebra crossings, and was very annoyed by drivers and motorcyclists that insisted on turning left/right at a junction even when the green man was lit and many pedestrians were still crossing the road; I was, in a nutshell, bored and unimpressed and sorely lacking the love I feel for the city whenever I'm not there.

When I'm actually there, when I'm walking down the streets of Taipei and riding the Taipei Metro and listening to the Taipei Mandarin accent, I didn't care. When I'm not there anymore, when I'm here, back to my life, no longer having an excuse not to do the things I usually do or talk to the people I usually talk to, no longer having a justification for my inexplicable feeling of wanting to be reclusive, when I'm no longer in Taipei and am back in Singapore, I find myself thinking of Taipei and missing it. I find myself wanting to be back there again.

I couldn't understand why...but it all made sense to be today. Sentimentality - beyond pale, washed out sentimentality, it's a blase, unoriginal yearning for the what-could-have-been, the if-only, the my-life-could-have-been-this-way. It could have been different if only my parents had not decided that it was better for me to grow up in Singapore. It could have been better, it could have been less disappointing, it could have turned out more fulfilling, with the good outweighing the bad, with me turning out to be a different person.

Whether any of that is true or not is not the point. The point is that the almost-was Taipei life continues giving me space to ponder, to wish, to senselessly imagine, when my own life - my real life - unfailingly disappoints me. The could-have-been is cold comfort; it offers cheap solace in the flimsy, unrealistic and baseless hypothesis that maybe, maybe, if I'd stayed in Taipei, things would have worked out differently for me; if I'd stayed in Taipei, I wouldn't have been dealt the cards that I've been handed so far; if I'd stayed in Taipei, maybe happiness - the true, lasting kind - would have came.

Of course, all of this is moot. It's not just moot - it's baseless, it's ridiculous. Of course I know that it's not the place that shapes my experiences as much as it is who I am, innately, my unchanging traits, my disposition. Of course I know that it would be the same, just with different people, even if I'd never moved to Singapore. But the thing about almost having a completely different life is that it makes you wonder, and in wondering, it makes you yearn in a stupid, blase fashion for the inchoate when the real disappoints. Because the inchoate will never take shape, it will never disappoint the way the solid, the tangible, the here-and-now does.

Taipei is my escape. It's my way out, the thought I use to comfort myself with when I look back on the things I've been through and wonder why it always ends in tears. I think of Taipei, the life that almost was, and even if it's cheap solace, the ridiculous idea that it might have been different makes me feel just that little bit better.

The truth is, I'm not a cynic. I believe in the innate goodness of humanity, I believe in the true sort of happiness that money can't buy, I believe in the purity of raw, true human emotions.

I believe in love. I'm not a cynic; I only wish I was. All I am, really, is just a sad, tragic little disappointed idealist.

You know, I can't be bothered to explain the difference. All I can say is - if you don't get it, you just don't get it. And it's really not a mere matter of semantics.

I think the worst discovery I've made lately is probably the continued, continuing existence of my heart. It's easier to be cold-hearted, to use people in a way that leaves you no remorse, to do things without principles, without consequences - without caring. For the longest time I genuinely thought I'd stopped caring, stopped feeling, stopped wanting.

I still don't want. But it's not about the thing; it's about the person. It's about the person. I'm not a serial monogamist and I'm perfectly comfortable with long periods of singlehood; in fact, I'm more comfortable with my own company than to have to share it with someone else. And so it's not about the thing which I don't even want. It's about the person.

It's about the person.

At one point I thought I couldn't move anymore. Then I heard David Cook sing this in my head:

I dare you to move
I dare you to move
I dare you to lift yourself
Lift yourself up from the ground
I dare you to move
I dare you to move
Like today never happened
Today never happened
Today never happened
Today never happened before

I know it's Switchfoot but I don't like Switchfoot and I've never heard the original version. The point isn't what the lyrics actually are, but what suddenly played in my head in that moment.

I have nothing left to give to this long, trying year. Physical ailments, emotional ailments. Roger, you're not the only one to be fucked up by 2008, so yep, 2009 should bring better things.

He has this weird optimism about him which I obviously don't share, but it does give me some remote comfort, in a weird sort of way. I don't know. I need to start watching his matches; I need my soma now more than ever.

before sunrise // before sunset

Previously:
- - Tuesday, Aug. 29, 2017
I'm moving. - Sunday, Jul. 11, 2010
In all honesty - Tuesday, Jul. 06, 2010
What I want for my birthday... - Sunday, Jul. 04, 2010
On Roger's behalf. - Friday, Jul. 02, 2010