Epilogue

I was bummed today. It was a little tougher than usual. But I think I did healthy things, sharing politely with my colleagues. I think Jon sets good examples. I'm lucky to have had good, male, role models like that. It's hard for me to tell how people react to me. I think it's true, and a bit tragic, that men come off as weaker to women when sharing their emotions. I think it's something people don't mean to do but can't help. Christelle does her best I think, but she is not good at emotional conversations where I think I need empathy rather than intellectualizing and solutions, which she tends toward. I think she told me once this was because of some biological and historical reasons. It is strange to be in a position as a guy where it's quite possible I'm more in touch with my feelings than the woman in the relationship, as you're not likely to find much advice on this. The best I can hope for is she does not see me worse for that.

I'm thinking of writing a book, inspired by my brother. I plan to keep in the habit of reading too, just to exercise that muscle and hope some of it rubs off, though I don't expect to write anything good, I hope to do it with an honest effort. That's how I feel will leave me satisfied for trying. Maybe I should write more frequently, read YY's blog more frequently. It's not going to be the tone of my book (which I think should be more Hitchhikers' guide), but maybe there's a way to have that personable quality while writing in 3rd person.

I've been on my team for a long time. It's starting to feel like an epilogue, past even the earlier feeling of being Spongebob after he re-inherited the Krusty Krab after inventing Krabby Patties (and taking stewardship of the place despite not having any of the original hustle and bustle). But it's not based in reality, it's a trick of the mind - the team does not exist on some linear timeline and neither do I. Who knows in a few months how things turn out. I know at some point I will leave though, and I wonder if after some perceived stability of marriage occurs, that will be the time.

I can only be honest. I don't have it in me to play games, or pretend as hard. It is hard for me. I'm stubborn and loyal, and stupidly so at times. People admire what they see as transparency, but it also can be debilitating or too quick of a draw being off the cuff and winging it at every step. I don't hide my expressions much these days. My coworkers joke that I only do macro-expressions. I like it when people find me entertaining or funny, and I think I've gotten better and not taking it to a people-pleasing level of it.

I don't understand "I've been working on myself", I feel like perhaps there is some consciousness or intention to it, but aren't people always implicitly trying to improve or optimize in some regard? Is it specific to just introspection or some self-defined ideal personality or attitude?

It's actually cool, that people have "moved on" from tumblr, blogs, it almost feels like, it went back to being a quiet and peaceful corner, even though that may not be practically true. For some malicious user could take advantage of much more powerful tools these days to uncover people's personal writing.

I wonder what the science says on journaling versus sharing with someone. I sense some overlapping feeling, but it's not the same no?

I've chilled out a lot internally. I wonder if this manifests or can be detected externally, as in do I seem less anxious these days? 

I miss home, I've been away for so long the nostalgia has festered into something addictive.

Half of a Yellow Sun

Meant to post this a few months ago but I guess I didn't hit publish.

I just finished reading a very good book by an author I've heard much about but hadn't read anything by. I should warn you that it's bleak (but not in a cold way) and is ultimately a war story (which btw, I didn't know, so it became more engaging in a way). I would liken the feeling to watching Graveyard of the fireflies. 

I'm ultimately shocked by how engaging it was, but I'm not sure how much is in the writing and just my current mood of disengagement with reality, but I wanted to write about the latter today (also should mention I had a bit of urgency to get through the book to not waste my library loan for another that's expiring). Though the book is set in a much different time, it feels weirdly understandable or relatable. The character writing is obviously very good, but again it might be me, reaching a little, in a selfish and privileged way. But this isn't the oppression olympics, it just is maybe. I wonder if maybe it's my own self-judgement, that makes me feel like "first-world problems" are unreal and that only "objectively bad" situations like war and famine are justified. I read once that people on the spectrum enjoy anime precisely because of this exaggeration of real emotions that allows them to feel it. I wonder if it is the same phenomena. 

These days, my malaise feels chosen. It feels petulant, like I'm waiting for somebody to "give me my just rewards" before I relent and feel happiness. It also feels like the real lesson is for me to wait for it, and for that patience to dissolve and in anger realize this is entirely self-inflicted, for believing in some sort of justice or due for doing things nobody asks for. I liked that one of the managers, a wise, mild-mannered, and affable person usually, pushed back quite strongly on me saying I was people pleasing in a half-joking way. I appreciated that he wanted me to take it seriously, and not feed the ironic vanity that came from declaring my people-pleasing attitude in a half-joking way - an act of self-pity.

  

Childish Energy

I was looking for a word or way to describe how I felt today. Me and my co-worker have been using "vengeful", but today I think it went a bit further than that, and it was layered with other things. I decided it would bring me comfort to write them out instead, as Mr Chow whispers it to Angkor Wat at the end of In the Mood for Love.

The feeling reminds me of the story of an Italian man doing a semi-Forrest Gump after having an argument with his wife and walking 450 km (and semi-funnily/cynically, getting fined for breaching a Coronavirus curfew). I don't know exactly how he must have felt, but I would think he was filled with the sort of energy or feelings that I had today.

I also thought of Ferris Bueller's Day Off, a movie I haven't actually seen, but as I understand it is just some kid who skips class and decides to take an adventure around Chicago. He might have been motivated by more childish feelings, but in a way I was also motivated by that too.

It made me think of how disgraceful being "childish" is seen, and yet petulance, being a "hater", being fueled by spite and pettiness, is, when I think about it, one of the purest forms of motivation in a time when it seems like people often lose steam, burn-out, lose will, etc. I liked that in Inside Out, anger was shown in some scenes to be a fueling force behind taking action, for me, this is childish energy.

Ye, I was feeling "childish" today - I worked late the past 2 weeks, and while I think they were useful and "necessary" perhaps - it was not satisfying. A coincidence that the evening after the work was presented, I read a reddit post asking what things are over-romanticized, and the literal top post was over-working. It went something like "nobody's going to clap for you, you'll just get another email". I didn't feel like I was supported well, or listened to, or seen, in the process, perhaps.

Opening the mini-Zen garden also made me consider whether I was falling victim to a common male pattern of externalizing my problems and resolving them that way too. I do a healthy amount of escapism through games and media, and today I went more "extra" by "reclaiming" the 16 hours I lost doing unpaid overtime essentially. I had left the office an hour earlier than usual last week and today I went a bit further by A. not drinking any caffeine - as I decided to do my no coffee day on a work day where I knew what I had to accomplish was more brainless, B. leaving early to go see a movie and C. not related to work per se but about externalizing my issues - getting some ice cream - I might add, the same flavor that me and Chris had gotten a few days ago, but she conveniently ate all of it even though I thought we were sharing it. I suppose this reminded me most of the Italian man who decided to be extra instead of confronting their partner - I'm just that tired maybe, or more true for me, don't like burdening others with an emotional binge of sorts - it's neither helpful nor healthy for anybody.

Slight tangent - I've come to appreciate Worst Person in the World a bit more, in that the film does portray someone I actually do not have much sympathy for/I actively despite, since I value loyalty and consequently hate infidelity - but I suppose the film would not have worked if they chose something only lukewarm and not an actual unpopular opinion. In a way I also do petulant, unsavory, childish things - my life is great, but dumb, sometimes 1st world problems or injustice convinces me that you know what, sometimes nobody is going to look out for you, and that I should not be entitled and expect it in the first place - you have some power to just quietly look out for yourself.

So that was me today, just self-caring a little because nobody else was, and that's OK. I went and saw Superman, and I cried a little at different parts of the movie. I've always thought Superman was a boring character, but this movie has convinced me otherwise. People are saying it's because the director Gunn understands the character, and I think they're right. I think that his vision and understanding of the character, as well as the actor who plays him - felt earnest and got to me in a corny way. In an interview he did with BBC1's Ali Plumb - David Corenswet talks about what defines his understanding of the character, and he says that Superman is contradictory - his upbringing and life is actually great in a lot of ways, and he doesn't have the tragic backstory (or at least, the destruction of Krypton is not the same as seeing your parents murdered in "crime alley"), but he is lonely. He's still an alien, who feels human, and chooses to walk and live amongst us as Clark too, but sometimes is reminded he is an alien by others, but he earnestly wants to be good, and kind, and protect others because he does see the good in everyone (which in the DCAU this role is more taken by the Flash perhaps). Watch the interview, he states it more eloquently than I. Or as the movie puts it as well, in a corny way no doubt, and almost embracing it - maybe it (kindness, and seeing the best in others) is punk rock. 

The show also reminded me that aside from petulance, the "childish energy" I have, which motivates a lot of what I do personally, even if I think and opine differently at the level of society or country, is very "childish". I try my best not to break the simplest of rules in a lawful good kind of way, and I find myself thinking and admiring still the "shonen" type heroes like Naruto, and ye, this version of Superman too. I think something really has been lost with all the intellectual nuance and "well this and that complicates this".  We often think of these simple values as perhaps "missing the point/reality of the situation", making excuses of pragmatism or "but how will people see this/take it" - and I am 200% guilty of falling into this trap of mistaking complication for intellect/experience. I certainly think the US's Democratic Party has lost the plot through the opposite - political-sciencing their message - test audiencing/making things palatable and messaging, has become the prime focus instead of the message and content itself - just put yourself out there, with an honest re-telling of what you're about and you're focus, and let those things come later, and letting the voters discern and choose. 

But I digress, so ends this short day, time to patch the temple with mud.

I looked at the boat on my blog

And wondered why I feel something for it. I wondered if I really liked that kind of idyllic lifestyle, when often I don't feel enthused to do similar activities right now. Then I came to realize it's the setting that enables the lifestyle I want - being able to literally sit on a boat for a few hours with no consequences or responsibilities after. I might just be that tired on no-caffeine-days after having to return to work for 5 days a week and continuing to do most of the weekend chores and finally working on my final language of the 6 UN languages (العربية). Often I feel better after having ate - so maybe these are the beginnings of the dreaded sugar-ed up American diet. Speaking of which, I sometimes feel trapped by my situation - in some sense by who I've decided to love and where I've decided to make a living. But because I've decided I cannot be trapped. Anyway, the country is pretty fucked, always has been but more so now, and not directionally so too, it seems. Let's just eat and stop being hangry/hungemotional. 

Every Second Counts

I wonder if there's a word for feeling outside of time, of routine. Disconnection? Transit between terminals? Maybe there's a German word for it. Being put on hold. 

Dos Mil Cien Pesos

I write (wrote) this in the twilight of the year. The colours don't blend,the redder the sky, the bluer the water. I always do, even when the change is arbitrary, it is real because it is made.

I wanted to 'actively rest'. I imagine like some writer who spends his time in a cottage by the sea and puts down, materializes his abstractions into a murder mystery. I sat in the taxi yesterday coming home (regresan), and wondered if I had let me ideal of Chris insidiously overcome the reality of her. I wonder what people do to reconcile this. I also wonder why reality is  often thought of as grittier and grimmer. Maybe because we would rather daydream sunshine than night.

I am proud of the baby steps me llevo en espanol. Haco? Mis mejor enfruerzo. I am no genius, I have to do things the hard way. Which is the traditional way. I wondered if my time was so spare, or perhaps my mentality not under the "siege" of time slipping that allowed me this. Or simply talking to real people right after studying a book. I hope to repeat this in San Francisco, maybe with Russian, then Arabic, then ?? Malay and Cantonese, or in reverse, and let my fears go, let the image of an embarrassed adult be that of the old white lady visiting Paris, and trying her best.

All I wanted was a black grand national. Funnily, my blank ink dried. I've always been a 'hopeless romantic' with 'a bleeding heart', I like writing and speaking metaphorically and abstractly, though I guess people would want it more structured, disciplined, to give it respect. Rambling doesn't justify attention. Maybe that's why I like reading Ying Yue's blog, or find it endearing she reads mine (at some point), it feels like a kindred spirit, though in reality I don't know her outside of that stream of consciousness. I also wonder if it's a form of luxury (it is) to have mental leisure time like this as if my time need not be spent productively. My hope, my justification is simply that it brings about renewed clarity and agility in my thinking later.

Time to think of a nickname, in Spanish, for her.

Feeling fast and slow

I move slow and steady, but I feel like a waterfall. I move slow and steady, past the ones that I used to know.

I decided to stay here for Thanksgiving, having declined and offer to join Chris in NC with her family and (new) extended family. I'm glad I did, I was very tired and didn't have the energy I think to first of all socialize, but second of all adapt culturally to a family that is 3 degrees of separation away from me. I'm not sure, visualizing myself in that space, if I could stomach the loneliness, ironically, more than being alone.

I was annoyed this morning because I thought about using my phone since I was pretty productive past 3 weeks and Chris woke up and immediately told me using my phone in bed is bad and that she just learnt that. I was annoyed because we literally talked about this before, me sharing Dr K's insights about the subject, and it seems like she either forgot, doesn't care to remember, or didn't listen. Not the first time, and very frustrating. Maybe sometimes I should just ask her what we just talked about like yesterday to see if she's listening. That's toxic though, but I also am feeling pretty helpless, as if I'm talking to a bot that only responds in the moment and with a lot in platitudes, a bit like Jacob maybe. I suppose my mind is implicitly comparing to other people to whom A. don't live with me and maybe it's easier to remember rarer interactions, B. are smarter, as in my colleagues, and C. I am not as emotionally invested in if they don't listen. I was frustrated too at myself of course, because in some ways I consider it a bit of a weakness to give in to cravings too easily, and I judge Chris for it a lot. In a way it's like hearing a smoker tell you not to smoke, but in that scenario the smoker 100% knows the are addicted to smoking, and in this scenario Chris always has an excuse for her own habits, then later regrets not being productive as if they were not correlated. Question is should I care? I do it automatically, but should I dis-associate from that outcome?

I sometimes reflect that a lot of my instinctual reactions for better or worse are still tied to saving face, imposter syndrome, or the metaphorical inside-out 2 "anxiety" in my head.

Now perhaps on to processing the main impetus. There is great churn in my workplace. Most meaningfully two of my longest running managers whom have been really great and that I've built rapport with.  I'm blessed I'm still there and that my staying team members trusts and values me still. I look back with a lot of nostalgia and confusion. There was a certain level of startup-intimacy in the team, but the team is much larger than 2 pizzas now. I feel a lot of things. Like a turtle and everyone else are hares. Like a sailor on the ship of Theseus. Like the youngest and the oldest. Like a foreigner in a foreign land to which I still do not embrace outside of practicality. I've thought much also about the role models in my life and why I now go about life the way that I do, including the larger and life figures of fiction and non-fiction. I feel tired of being annoyed. Let the uncertainty come, I'll handle it.

I gave some thought to why I like Singlish. I am sure to some extent this is true of other native languages and accents too, except I cannot imagine it for Americans except for certain (minority group) vernacular. I can only describe it through feeling and characteristics. It's a feeling of authenticity. When Singaporeans complain, or use slang, it makes even corny messages feel sincere. Or maybe it's because I feel the opposite with other kinds of English. There's a certain amount of camaraderie, maybe from not being in Singapore together that is already shared the moment you speak it outside of Singapore. But it's almost as if, I were allowed to say things plainly and straight-forwardly, or maybe it's the special end-phrase intonation/signifiers that add "word emojis" to each sentence, something that modern internet memes have caught up to, to some degree.