Month: November 2013

Life is all about taking risks, I realized that a long time ago. There’s always two sides to a story, and ultimately it is your decision which side of the story to believe.

Choices have consequences, and the outcome of the consequence weighing against the decision to perform the task leading to the consequence – which is more worth it? Is it worth risking something you hold dear for an intense moment of greed?

Rejection. How many times were you initially told yes, then later brutally rejected because of various reasons – you’re not good enough, you’re not old enough, you’re not experienced enough.

Hope. Something that’s so powerful, yet so difficult to perform under times of hardship.

Right now, I don’t even know what I want, and I don’t know what to choose, because I honestly don’t know what’s in store for me. I don’t know how to react to failures, and I don’t know how to react to successes either. I don’t know which side of life to look at, unsure of the rapid, fast-moving world. I don’t know how to react to consequences, good or bad, and I always let the matter pass too easily. What is it that sometimes, maybe just the slightest bit of hope can light me up, whereas at other times even a huge blessing can pass and I still stubbornly wouldn’t realize it.

I don’t know which side of the story to look at, and to every risk taken, I don’t know if it’ll be worth it even after it’s done. I don’t know what life has in store for us, and I don’t know how to react to that. I hate the mystery life has for us, unfolding little by little every minute but when it’s finally revealed, you’re already near dead, if not already dead. Seize the day, they said. But it really isn’t that easy when life’s paths are all filled with little rocks and pebbles, and occasionally a huge boulder you can’t move on your own.

Why am I doing this? What is my duty to live on Earth for? Am I destined to do something great? What can I contribute to humankind, even in the slightest bit?

I don’t know.

I hate this huge mystery life has thrown to us, born without a reason – your destiny to find out the purpose of your living.

I just don’t know.

A father is a child’s first hero, before he had the ability to gain any common sense of his own. Most grow up to follow in the footsteps of their fathers, set aside an example for all their kids to follow. Lay down a path for the children, so it won’t be as difficult. 

Sacrifices.

That’s what a father knew all his life to do. Arguing over what to eat for dinner, the child then realizes every single time, he wins.

Gentle.

Tall and big, a hero with a soft spot for his children. 

Gentleman.

Knelt down to a woman of his life years ago, to still treat her the same way. Tenderly.

Wise.

It’s always safe to put your trust in your dad.

Shelter.

Somehow it feels a lot safer to have him around.

All in all, Hero.

A father has always been the first hero of his children, and should always be their last hero.

Philosophy claims, everyone was sent down to earth for a reason, and even before they were born their entire life is mapped up for theme somewhere up there, all the way until they die. Our world is pretty much like a big machinery factory, every one was born to play a part, and every one has a specific role in life. No matter how much one wishes to be different, they were born the way they were made to and like a giant puzzle, every one is a piece and together all of us make a complex puzzle. There are plain pieces, and colourful ones. It’s unfair how some people are seemingly better than others in every single aspect, but then again the prettiest things don’t stand out unless they have a plain background to support it. Every one is sent here for a purpose, and the older you grow, connect the dots by looking backwards, and know what you are fated to do. Connect the dots, make sense of your life. Look back at however many things you have done and appreciate every thing that has happened to you, good or bad.

Why?

That’s a deep question. No one has the powers to know. Only God.

Time is ticking, don’t waste it.

Hold on, we’re going home.

Oh yeah the reason why I’m posting this is because I’m trying to un-numb my fingers from holding ice cream for too long.

10 years is actually really short. I was K1 10 years ago(?) and I still vividly remember myself sucking off a plastic spoon in class and got scolded for being ‘unhygienic’ Yeah well I thought spoons are for sucking? And I remember my friend Stephanie and I pretended to be cooks and used the play stove to fry imaginary eggs and serve our classmates. And how about, building Legos and getting awe-struck by Simon’s Lego creations because he was the most artistic amongst us all? And Keefe, the guy who always wanted ice cold showers. Things really do pass by very quickly. It’s kinda sad they demolished my kindergarten, but since it’s a private kindergarten and not under MOE, I guess it really isn’t MOE’s fault my kindergarten is nonexistent now.

And then we discussed, one year later, which primary school we were going to enroll in. Henry Park, Bukit Panjang, Peihwa. I actually forgot how the last day of kindergarten went but I probably didn’t feel too bitter about it.

It scares me how 10 years just flies like that, if an average person lives to 75 years, then 20% of my life is already over. I haven’t really done anything remarkable, nothing superior. I’ve been very ordinary, blessed with an extraordinary environment of people.

Why live, if you’re not going to do something remarkable?

I believe in this, I really want to do something remarkable and be proud of it at my deathbed.

Life is no game, I realized there isn’t a rewind button. Which also means I’ll never be 5 years old again, which means I’ll never study in a primary school again, only to go back as an alumni if I wished to.

To all those born in 1998 and taking O levels Chinese soon, all the best. We’ve been through so far, primary school honestly wasn’t too far ago.

I’m scared to grow up, really. I want to be a senior, but the responsibility is so scary. I want to go back being a junior, carefree and playful.

Responsibilities. The way you carry it defines who you are.

More and more responsibilities.

We literally live to die, but whether to leave a legacy behind is a choice.

Especially when time flies by so quickly nowadays, I’m even more scared to embrace the future. I want to stop growing up, but what can I do.

I look up to those older than me, and I love the ones younger than me.

It surprises me how sometimes it’s the younger ones who make more sense. I realize, maturing takes away some of the most precious memories of childhood. Immaturity is a blessing, something given for only a limited amount of time before societal norms take over.

I’m afraid. I know I’ve said this for the umpteenth time already, but I just really feel insecure. I know I’m only fifteen, but time should never be underestimated.

What does life have in place for us?

In fact, what is the purpose of living after all? Spending 20% of our lives studying, 60% of our lives working and the last 20% enjoying your last few years in life?

Some things will never have an answer.

Good things end. ( Bad things do, too )

If I could, I would. But I can’t.

I really hope I can find the happiness in life soon enough.

I want to find a purpose to go on, a key to happiness even when engulfed with workload.

A definition in life, that’s something I have to figure out myself.