Real tired

As opposed to imaginary tired. I'm taking a page out of Dr. K's book to emotionally regulate by typing it out. As a creature of habit, I've no more youth to handle too much unexpected challenges without validation or help.

Ended up scrolling through the SF whatsapp chat - really interesting, somewhat amusing seeing people discuss race, with a pseudo-generational divide. It's interesting because there are I guess "trigger phrases" - not in a sense of wow you're woke and getting triggered sort of mocking "own the libs" language but more like suspected dog whistles - like older people saying "race is not an issue" (in Singapore). Which is wrong, but also has this "older people say that" kind of wrong? Anyway back to work.

Many things easy, some things hard

 Thoughts to think:

1. Work

Things have changed, slowly, as always. People have come and gone and or are going. I remain, but I also change. It's hard to have a barometer without comparison, I always compare. Daniel Kahneman says that's just how we translate things into good or bad, by comparison, sort of. I think, I believe I am happy, and that I'm the tortoise in the hare and the tortoise, except there is no race, really. I'm happy the hare took a nap, if they were tired and wanted to. There was no need to win, I don't know what the prize is, carrots?

2. Communication

Difficult and awkward and frustrating. Supposed to be hard, I understand. Harder when different culture. Harder when you feel like you can see it and have to translate for them. Probably true, and probably my responsibility, as the immigrant. But what if I'm tired, what if I want to learn new things, have people translate for me? I feel restless, like I want to "get on with it". I don't like repeating, I feel like repeating is doing things that've been done (duh), and it's like, a waste of time? But I know in my head, that's how things are - attention waxes and wanes, and things are hard to comprehend or know. Ironically, this is what I've failed to do myself - comprehend, know, accept, that it takes time. Dr. K said something basic, somewhat contradictory, but I reflected on it to understand. He said that most people start in anger - or I guess, that they feel like they have to communicate now! urgently! importantly! while feeling the feelings! But our mind is wonderful because it forgets - the feelings pass, and you will get over it (well, first world problems that is) - by all means, communicate to not get taken advantage of, set your boundaries. But you don't need to do it in the moment, if the moment is aggregated. I shut down when I'm over-burdened, like an over-clocked CPU.

3. Quiet

I have some quiet now. I also have some quiet in the bus. How to tell people I want some quiet without hurting their feelings? Without risking miscomprehension? I re-read the last post I made - I felt like I wanted to just be in a library. How healthy is it to be alone in your thoughts? Maybe it is sort of meditative - I have many thoughts, so I have to face them, talk (blog) through them, and then I can let my mind be bored and empty but satisfied. This has been hard to communicate to Chris, I am afraid I will be the person who tells her I am not interested in things she's really interested in, and I feel (but I don't know!) that she's disappointed, or takes it badly, when I do say I'd like to do something else or be somewhere else, or just do my own thing. But it is not healthy to be pent up and to stew for too long. But I am also uncertain if this feeling will last, or I just need a few good hours. Perhaps that's what I need to communicate - I would like to be alone or quiet for a couple of hours, that's all. I do not want to talk or listen right now, it's tiring to be tuned externally all the time. I think next movie I'll watch is perfect days.

4. Singapore

I took a break before writing this part. Longer break than intended. Told myself I would have to address this sooner or later. Singapore has taken on nostalgic qualities. I haven't lived there in so long. All memories are like this, I know rationally. But it's addictive to think about it, to pretend like I'm forever an alien pining for home. It's unhealthy, and probably an avoidance of my responsibilities here, which are overwhelming. It reminds me sometimes of Martian Manhunter as represented in the justice league animated series. A stoic guardian who had lost his home, and only after a long time decides to look for happiness in his new one.

I just finished reading my brothers' book, it's pretty good, I think, for a first time "writer" (nobody really is, since we all write essays and stories in school, I guess). Maybe I'm biased, there's sort of a confounding variable here - on one hand I do believe that writing something personal is always apparent, and it was expressed here. On the other I am also personally involved, and may have been moved by it and failed to see amateurish mistakes. Regardless, it's not the only book I'm reading at the moment with references to my home.

I'm also reading a Singaporean short stories book Chris got at Littered with Books. Ironically this fulfils my reading challenge book salad criteria and not the cat book I bought, which I will read later. Anyway, it's a lot. Like emotionally a lot. I feel both like I understand everything and yet I have so much I don't know. I feel many things about this. I am ashamed of my mandarin, lack of dialect, no malay either. Though slowly I of course lose even my singlish accent probably. This is of course my choice. Living here I mean, I'm just, reminiscing and wishing. I wish people could understand me and how I feel. But so far I merely feel unheard or never get to the point of taking deeply. It's probably the first time I've felt so far and homesick. Maybe because in college, there was a thought that I would move back, that my identity was clearly Singaporean since everybody asks me about it all the time. It was the clear defining factor, as we all hold on to some and project onto others. Now it is not so clear. It is also not so clear that Chris wants to be in Singapore, which I understand. I'm at peace with it, kind of. It sort of comes and goes I suppose. As in past lives though, it's the one piece that she cannot ever understand - or is that the fallacy being shown in past lives? No, I think it was a tragedy, the grieving of the past life. Grief is a big part of the theme in my brothers' book, and also these short stories actually. I'm grateful for the sprinkling of humorous tales, but a majority are about things lost - there's a lot of ghost stories to this effect too. I feel like even at a meta-level, I understand why the stories are being written. Intellectually, I can do so for American stories too, but my heart and soul do not necessarily follow as closely. Ironically, I feel frustrated in my privilege. As if I want the pain of the empathy for all humans! No, I close off, as a safety measure. It's enough to think about Singapore's pains and longings. I'm reluctant to engage emotionally, because I am a frightened and selfish child, who wants empathy too. Ironic that I cannot pay the price myself.

Or maybe I'm just tired, and people pleasing, and not able to communicate effectively, or want to be taken care of, or to be understood easily, or all of the above. I remember talking to Jacob, my new director, sort of unabashedly, in my typical candid way talking about how much I miss Singapore after going back. But then I play the tape all the way through , and it's the same, and there is no magic that my nostalgia promised. It just is, things are, that is. Maybe what I want and need to communicate for is just the peace and quiet to think and blog and take the bus silently and not be constantly dealing, partially self-imposed. I want to travel somewhere quiet, just to read the signs, to not have to talk about it except when I want to, later. To sit on the bus and see the hilly landscape that makes the land of a thousand hills. 

Tired

 A few weeks of hectic work, culminating in a lost weekend before a long one.

I gave up, decided to abandon the plan. Nobody seems to be following mine anyway. Communication hard, feel lonely as a result. Prefer speak less word like office gag. Hard for people understand me, seems to be happening much more than usual, wish did not have to learn to communicate better for others. Miss Singaporeans. Miss Victorians. Is it not rose-tinted nostalgia for simpler times? Miss book, kind of need a new one, maybe non-fiction. Burnt out, probably, but usually recover after a few weeks of "vengeful" slacking and me-time. Hard to find me-time, hard to say no, feel like people will misunderstand, but maybe because I misunderstand and project. Want to be outside, but quiet, and things I like. Mostly want to travel, but quietly, almost. Like visiting a global library, with some limited, but courteous attempts at learning the language of others'. Maybe need recognition, for effort, but effort silent. Want to nap, but still have work. Am tired, boss.

Feels like people paying attention to different things, and I'm left paying attention to things alone, maybe pay too much attention. Then people question when did not take responsibility. How liddat? I want to curse, in Singlish though. Like when I do US taxes or Visa things, burden.

Learned a meditation from Dr. K for sleeping. Ends in bed feeling that you have a right to sleep and be comfortable. I've always had that in my head, in different things. IEHAC is comfy, all SG music is, I guess. I've also had this image of Fern (adventure time), "dying", of him disintegrating and flowing away as grass in the wind. It's comforting hearing the sound in my head, it reminds me of breaks in the army out in the field.

Sometimes I just want quiet, but I don't know how to ask for it, and not seem angry or needy. But that may just be self-fulfilling. 

No Coffee

I'm not sure if I've ever talked about this on my blog before. I must have, even though the habit, the routine, became much more solidified recently then in the past when my blog was more active.

I enjoy many things less without coffee and I think by definition that makes me dependent. Part of why I do no coffee days is to make sure I continue to exercise that disciplinary muscle of continuing to function without coffee, and also find things I enjoy doing without it. I've neglected the latter and for a time simply dumped all my chores onto the no coffee day since they don't require all that much brain power and being caffeinated doesn't help with them at best, and at worst makes me do them impatiently and haphazardly. In theory. In practice I do function slightly better even doing menial chores. Though part of it is also that there build up some amount of fatigue over the week that is pushed entirely to no coffee day as a result. Today as I truly reflected on my frustrations I realized it's simply not good. The source was that I was "running out of coffee time" to play Age of Empires since I don' play or even feel like playing games on no coffee day - if today had been no coffee day it would have been great tbh. It probably started with the expectation inertia to drink coffee for board game day at Joe's which ended up not happening, then that transitioning into a close to 8 hour day outside going to and fro and spending time at a mall deep in the suburbs. I guess it really should be a rule of thumbt hat I tell Chris I expect to be home by 6 or something in the future and that I should not be afraid to set my gaming recreation time more concretely.

I've also recently thought more about the energy I spend passively. Deviations from routine, negative emotions - I'm not sure if it's the same kind of energy, but I probably spend some energy redirecting my efforts, replanning my day, or getting over emotions without processing them later as Dr K might put it. But how do you process? If I think about it, I feel like I already know the ways I've done it before - blogging. For one. "Solo" adventures - another. I remember distinctly once in command school, where I cleaned the bathroom and listened to Paramore, doing nothing else while others spent their free night's out, well - out. That's another then (and probably more than the bathroom) - the music. The same, good old stuff. Maybe there's research on this, but I've basically locked in some of the music I always turn back to, nostalgia wise. I'm not sure if more will ever be added. Maybe, in a different way. Maybe it's harking back to times and emotions that become less and less frequent. Dr. K too, I think, is how I process - maybe that's why it's relaxing to hear him, but also dangerously engrossing if I do it at work, I guess. 

Other things. I'm thinking about my inner voices. No, not some psycho shit. I just mean how does your inner voice sound like and does it change? Mine does, I think, to some degree. If it were a transformer model for language, almost like a hidden layer of meaning separate from attention, long context, the word itself, etc. It's like long-tone or something, Some of it today is Grubby or Dr. K-like in language. I'm reminded of how I sound blogging here. In Singapore, sometimes, I would feel ashamed. Because it sounded like my "elitist" voice - the kind of English I hear and sound absent Singlish, and I was afraid I was a stereotype, that this was really me, and I was ashamed. Am I today? No - in some ways, I think I've accepted it. I've missed stream of conscious-ing. I've missed selfish-ly taking up space, standing on my soapbox about inner-psychology and musing like a teenager who read one book by Nietzsche. 

Cruelty

I decided to reflect today.

I reflect most days, but not write it down. Today I met a stranger who was crying, and asked her if she was alright, but soon realized I was quite unequipped to be of consolation as her friend had passed just then, a long time family friend. Absent of religious platitudes, and having not thought about what I would've liked to hear myself when my father passed, I was not sure what to say, though on reflecting on the bus, I think it would have been wise to offer to keep the passed in my thoughts and remember good things about them. Instead I quite awkwardly talked about how my father had also passed from cancer years ago in a bad situation (covid). Cancer is cruel, and ugly, and meaningless, and I wonder if that honesty would have helped or not too. It is objectively terrible, and that is why people are applauded for fighting against it. There is no consolation despite it.

I want to be able to talk better. My emotional spectrum seems to be comedy or anger, maybe because of the nurture from being a guy.

STEM

 I had a conversation with Craig, Josh and Glenn, Xun Yi and Yan Zhou on separate occasions. Different ways of getting to a similar discussion about how SF puts on free, cool stuff for young adults and Singapore does not seem to. There are good reasons that explain why, but veering off, I also wondered about Singaporean expression of passion. Using STEM fields as an example, the most commonly cited reason why Singaporeans don't seem to express the same level of passion in it is purportedly that the "rat race" killed this passion at a young age. I can certainly agree with that, but wanted to go deeper than that too.

My brother used an example during one of his tech meetups - he said the most enthusiastic, question asking audience members tended to be foreign, while Singaporeans largely kept silent. They are, there though, right? The Singaporeans still turn up. I honestly believe, and most people would agree, Singaporeans are actually passionate for many things, but some of these are expressed (more often) and some are not (less often). On the surface, cynicism is king. We suck thumb, then complain, and anybody who doesn't is lucky, rich, old, or wayang.

Aware

 It's a twitch emoji.

I just came out of a few weeks of working late and some weekend time taken away. It was not fun. Now I feel drained and dissatisfied in my leisure time, though part of it I think is the unreliability of being able to play with people I know and like. I stream-of-conscious-ed into writing a byline like at the end of an email, perhaps a sign of how much I got used to work. I recognize that at the moment, I am feeling lonesome, but also "inefficient" with my leisure, but that's coming from I think getting "used to" having very little of it over the past few days + Friday + no coffee tomorrow + looming long flight + missing watching Beef with Chris because she went out + not really knowing when she's coming back - kind of scary sometimes not living in Singapore, I kind of fear for her safety coming back late. I'm fearful too of the future, if we have to be here.

I wonder why I fear long flights, or dread them. Instead of being excited to go back. I suppose part of it is just the jet lag - I don't like how much time just flows through in a fugue, jet lagged state. And this 1 week stint is odd for sure, as soon as I get over the jet lag, I'm probably going to come back and get another round of jet lag. 

I know I fear for her safety, because I'm relieved when she comes back. But that fear comes from imaginary scenarios in my head.

I think I'm getting kind of tired of games when there's no new patch. I should be getting back on my longer-term goals, or just continue the optimizing and settling down of my life in SF, but I always feel like they need to happen during the day, and I'm tired by the end of it. Maybe it's the lack of reward at the end of doing those things.

I think lately I've been "waiting" for energy to come, and somehow have lost the initiative. I get productive days and not productive days, and longer and shorter breaks, and yet mostly I do the same thing, with some increase in pay. I suppose that's kind of too min-max a way of thinking - I'm also building slowly my relationship with Chris, findings new friends in SF, and it's not yet a year (though almost). I feel for some of the folks Dr. K talked to, and can relate to some of their struggles. I like that there is a constant reminder that knowing information is different from understanding something, in your brain, and psyche.

I think I am getting better at being at peace letting go of the time we had a fight of sorts in Florida. Now I guess I have to deal with feeling guilty at times for not spending time with her, however unfortunate the timing. I'm getting way tired now, and going to bed. I hope all is well, that is after all all we can do.

I haven't had time to/inspiration to blog in a while, but I feel a strong feeling for it in specific settings, like late at night, after being alone for  a bit, maybe after doing a lot of work. Maybe I feel like "nobody understands", or a kind of weird meta-awareness of myself whenever it's one of those times. I feel like I need to go to sleep, as a distraction, but also feel a weird sunk cost fallacy of wanting to stay up now to see Chris get home. Idk maybe her phone died, which seems to happen often.