Isolation.

It's kinda odd, now that I'm back in Singapore, I feel the urge to meet up with old friends has diminished. It is as if the only thing I miss in Singapore is its food, and I am content with my small social circle (ie family[though you can't really include this can you], laymay and mark).

I wonder why, really. Am I doomed to follow the dreaded rat race where every rat runs on its individual wheel? Have I lost my social skills, such that I've no more the courage or initiative to ask ex-schoolmates out?

Anyone reading this blog and currently residing in Singapore, please contact me now - if only to let me know you're still here. ;p

Going home.

Why should I return home, when I can't know for sure I've passed the recent exams? Why should I care, really - I should just stay here all 5 years, shouldn't I?

I haven't put in enough effort?

Ha.

Cleaning.

As you all know, I'm going back to Singapore on the 11th, and I've just started to pack. Was cleaning my chest of drawers (haven't reached my closet yet) when I noticed a pile of letters I had left untouched since last year. Cards, mostly, from those who had sent me before and whilst I was in the UK, and a few photos I had brought with me. Yes of course they made me think of home, and all the friends I've lost touch with inadvertently. Mostly because of my internet (NEVER get tiscali as your ISP, I stress again here) but I realised I just haven't been making the effort to keep in touch, and it is now that I feel a tinge of regret. So please, all my friends out there who are reaching this blog, please, please leave a comment indicating your phone number or email, so I can meet up with you when I'm back in Singapore this time. We may all be busy people (OK maybe not myself) but I do hope you'll spare a few minutes of your time to accompany this sad lonely soul in Singapore ;p

Also got a few personal words to say here to a few of my readers here,
Mei: Would you prefer a pair of (sapphire) earrings, or a wallet? 'Cause I'm gonna give either one or the other to ma, let you choose first ;p
LM: I love you dear.

Parcels.

I just received a parcel today. From myself.
Why, have I lost my mind - have I become so desperate for presents, for salvation, that I have addressed one to myself?
Obviously not lah.
This parcel I 'received' was returned, from Singapore. I had sent this a few months ago, as a christmas/CNY present to my family. Yup, mei, it's the chocolates I promised you, as well as a pair of shoes for Yang. Do not ask me why the other 2 parcels I sent with this reached my home, but not this one.
I am feeling damn pissed off about this already lah can. I mean, this one was via parcelforce (=speedpost for singapore) and cost much more than the other 2!!! And after a few months' detour it's come back to me?!!!
Grr.

I wonder if the chocolates are still edible. Will someone enlighten me? (They're still wrapped up in bubble wrap, and I am loath to open it for fear of discovering moths' eggs or something in the box.)

Feelings.

It's such an odd feeling, knowing why you feel a certain way, what others would say to comfort you, and knowing you'd still feel the same despite all their good intentions.
I feel like I haven't put in enough effort this past year, am wondering if I am really suited for this course, and other assorted depressing thoughts. And I also know I feel this way whenever I am faced with obstacles in my way, that I have to get past this psychological barrier of feeling down and out, and pick myself up from this mess I've got myself into.
I also know I may forget about all this when I receive the results end of this week (for my osce resit), or plunge into greater depths of depression - if my suspicions are indeed confirmed.
No I am not depressed, clinically, just yet.
(Incidentally from what I've studied about depression you have to fulfil quite a few criteria before you're judged depressed, and then you're given mind-altering drugs to help in your rehabilitation. In my opinion chocolates work just as well, with fewer side effects. With moderate exercise, of course.)
So yeah. We'll see what happens yah. I just wanted to write this down so I wouldn't forget. No don't tell me I'm judging myself too harshly, that I have (too) high expectations of myself, by the way. I do not want to be playing with lives if and when I graduate.

Dust.

I'm seriously horrified at how fast dust can accumulate in my room. Was just vacuuming my room in preparation for a momentous event¹ when I discovered to my utmost disgust that after a mere few weeks after my last major vacuum, my room seemed to have accumulated enough dust to cover the surface area of Liberia! Seriously. There was like dust covering the edges of my cabinets, the little thingy sticking out housing the electrical sockets, on my printer, on my speakers, on my books (oops), on my CDs, even on the remote areas² of my keyboard! No wonder I've been sneezing like that for the past few months!!!

Phew now I feel so much more relaxed - oh wait! I see yet more dust on my chest of drawers! Grr.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
¹Exams, lah. Always brings out the obsessive-compulsive side of me.
²Like that little blue 'access IBM' button. Or the power button situated so far away from the rest of the keys.

Bias.

We are all biased in our own idiosyncratic ways aren't we? I mean, much as we would like to think ourselves non-discriminative in our behaviour towards others, do we not pass judgement (pre-mature at times) on those around us, be they total strangers, or close friends? Do we not persist in our smug little ways despite contrary evidence showing up a little while later? Is it ever possible to get rid of our prejudices and narrow-mindedness?

What prompted this little rant, you might ask. Well I was reading this article about reducing bias whilst treating patients, while listening to Enigma at the same time (always prompts some heavy-duty thoughts, it does).

So how do you do it? Can you approach a total stranger without first forming a pre-conception in your mind by his looks and mannerisms - and have an unguarded conversation?

I feel I need to re-discover this side of myself, this semi-blind 'blur' self before I 'matured' into this stubborn old (mentally at least) fogey with a predisposition to judge others by their shoes.

Seriously, what do you think? As we get older, do we merely pretend to dispose of unfashionable morals (and pile on new ones), or do we subconsciously stick to some sacred set of principles throughout our lives? Why should we keep our dispositions, and why do we put on masks?

Photos.

Since there is absolutely nothing going on (aside from mugging, trying to mug unsuccessfully and playing C&C Generals as a result) in my life right now, here's a few pictures I took while my life was a little more 'happening', back when I was in SF.

Coffee.

Pardon my lack of photography skills here, but I promised more about my little escapades in the US previously and here's a sneak preview of sorts, I guess.
Basically the day before I left, Mark wasn't free so I was left to roam about the streets of San Francisco myself. After trekking for what seemed like hours, I discovered this coffee shop buried amongst the myriad of stores in Chinatown, called "Uncle's coffee shop". Yes literally. I guess the words beneath were a little more revealing - 驰名咖啡¹, amongst others.
Now tempted by the aroma of freshly brewed traditional coffee and the sight of several old uncles chatting in there leisurely (and drinking coffee! not chinese tea!), I entered the shop, and ordered a cup, as seen above. Well if you observe carefully there's actually a metal container behind the mug, the coffee actually came in that.
Well so it was quite an experience, sipping the (STRONG!!!²) coffee in a traditional Chinese (Hong Kong actually?) coffee shop, soaking in the atmosphere (and aroma) - the interior was of this dated design straight out of 真情, this never-ending serial from Hong Kong, and there were but a few old uncles and aunties having lunch (one table was having some hor fun thingy) and coffee, and hearing the uncles lazily chatting about nothing in particular (I heard them gossiping about me, at one point, in Cantonese - something about this leng(3) zai(2)³ at this corner, something something lol) and looking out of the window, watching life go by, really.
It was just tremendously relaxing, I tell you.


----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
¹Hope there wasn't any typo there in Chinese. Basically it means 'famous coffee', first two words 'famous' and last two 'coffee'. But it's much more than that, I guess, 驰名 conjuring images of ancient chinese heroes arriving from all corners of the countries, on horses, to sample the great coffee sold at this particular shop - at least for me.
²As you know, I am quite a caffeine addict, and you'd better believe me if I rate a coffee 'strong', especially when it's in Caps. It was definitely on par, at least, with the espressos I had in Italy. And it was so bitter that I couldn't drink it without adding milk, and wait for this, sugar. Yes I abhor adding sugar to my coffee normally.
³Pretty boy, literally. Normally used to indicate attractiveness of a young male (by those of the older generation) since in Cantonese there is no commonly used equivalent for 'handsome'. I knew they were referring to me because I was the only young guy in the entire shop. I actually did look around before acknowledging that they were talking about me. Now only if my charm extended to people my age.

Leaving Cambridge.

One of the rare times I felt a sudden rush of blood to the head, and whisked out my camera (phone) to snap a picture. It was just as I was waiting for the train back to Manchester from Cambridge one weekend, hence the title.

Is it just me, or does this picture just seem to encapsulate what I was feeling at that moment in time?

Age.

One of my pet topics again, yes, but just posting what I actually noted in the train ride back from paris the day after my birthday, and expanding a little on it. Well, quite a little, I have to admit.

It is as if once we hit adulthood, we are somehow blessed with excellent reasoning, have an infinite capacity to think rationally (hence saddled with immense responsibility), and are allowed to run free with our deluded minds aren't we? I am 23 today and still feel I am but a day older than I was 5 years ago. Granted, I have been to more parts of the world than perhaps many might dream of - and I am not being pretentious or 'elitist', if you will, in saying so - yet, I feel I have merely dissected and accumulated what I have seen, heard and experienced; it has but piled on layers upon layers of artificial guises with which to switch on(and off) in times of necessity. Looking from far, you might term this 'maturity'; at certain angles, it might seem as if these layers of textured dispositions have all but blended into my 'personality', and are thus indications of growth, literally and metaphorically (for I have gained weight, and it shows as such on my pudgy face) - have I really grasped the complexities of human interaction, though? Have I gained some insights into the meaning of life, the marvellous nature of our souls, the way this self-imposed farce of a thing we call society works?

I cannot say I have. For what I have been through thus far is just a sheltered, watered-down version of a life gone 'right'; I have absolutely no idea how Johnny feels in his 9-5 job he deems a chore, I do not know why that teenage girl wants to commit suicide, I can only imagine what it feels like to be in a different environment, only try to listen, empathise, and perhaps take off my masks - just for the moment - to feel for a fellow human being. And I have not listened enough. Try as I might, I have too often forgotten that the world is larger than myself, that we are all but tiny creatures that roam the corners of this Earth, and that everyone has a life story to tell.

And of course I haven't figured out a way to join the billionaires' club without joining the workforce.

Hmm I think I've gone off tangent, so I shall stop here. OK I have to confess I actually wrote only up till '5 years ago' in the train, and somehow squeezed out some cheem-looking words from the nether regions of my brain. Well technically not the nether regions, it's more like the back (and front coordinating as well), but we shall not delve into neuroscience now shall we? ;)

I guess what I was trying to say is that I don't believe adults necessarily make better decisions than hot-headed testosterone-fuelled teenagers (and not just in the realm of relationships), I guess we just learn to accept what is fashionable in our societies at certain moments in time, and act accordingly, don't we? Oh and we learn to crave for new toys, big and small. But definitely more expensive.

(I could go on to rant about commercialism, but again, I shall refrain myself from doing so.)

So yeah. What defines an adult? Is it merely age? Are we losing our way, and becoming over-aged kids with cash to spare? Can we justify the crap we dispense to those junior to us? So many questions, yet left unanswered, with nearly a quarter of my life gone already.

CCleaner

I've downloaded a program recently that I've found quite useful, and which I think would be quite useful to lazy people who can't be bothered to clear their cache regularly (*hint hint*). Basically it does that, and resolves some differences between windows and the assorted programs you've installed forcefully on your computer, so it starts up faster. It's worked for me, my laptop starts up in like less than half the time it used to take (really!) and so I've included a link which you can find on the right side of my blog. Sorry it's only for windows though ;p

CD shops.

I somehow recall that I used to find solace in browsing for CDs in CD shops around town, especially those that had like headphones for listening to CDs privately. I would find pleasure in just walking into any one, really, that had like random soft music playing and rows upon rows of neatly-catalogued CDs waiting to be discovered, explored, a whole universe to be traversed. Maybe it's because I've been buying my CDs online (they're so much cheaper here than shops in the city centre like HMV), or maybe I just haven't been going to the city centre, now that I seem so much further away. Or that it's just different, the record stores here seem to play mostly pop songs masquerading as emotive meaningful rock music with a god-fearing soul.
I guess it's only one of the multitude of reasons why I'm missing home.

Benches.

As you might or might not know, I was staying at Mark's place in Stanford for most of the days I was in the US. And as you might guess, Stanford is a bloody very rich and huge university, where palm trees are aplenty and BMWs are commonplace, amongst other interesting sights. Now amidst this chaos of decadence, there are numerous benches nestled amongst the multitudinous rows of neatly-pruned trees (of assorted shapes and sizes) and bushes. Now these benches are not the ordinary ones you see in Bishan park or the like, but appear to be magnificent works of art spread throughout the campus, with their interesting (for lack of a better word) and varied designs. (Yes Mark go take a closer look at them.)

OK basically I attended a walking tour of the campus when I was there, and as you had to take this free shuttle bus to the train station, that goes around the immensely magnificent campus before going past this huge shopping centre on land that is owned by the university and then finally the station, I watched quite a few trees go by, and of course, underneath them, conveniently, aforementioned benches.

So yah, I was looking at all these beautiful benches, and some neurons started firing off randomly (as usual) in my little brain. I thought to myself, how thoughtful they are! To provide these places where you can laze in during hot summer months, congregate and play hide-and-seek (or peek-a-boo), or maybe enjoy a delicate little romantic moment before the bus roars by yet again and splatters some dirt on you!

And I thought about the imagery associated with benches, the emotions that can be conjured by a simple image of an empty bench, or of a lone elderly man, sat hunch-backed, and gripping his walking stick, gazing into the horizon.

And I was truly impressed with Stanford.


Incidentally, I've discovered I quite like taking pictures of benches. Here's one I took in Sydney last year, Mei you'll recognise it.

The Pursuit of Happyness.

Somehow got reminded of this movie I watched on the plane. If any of you have watched it, you might have wondered how Will Smith got to enter the Bay Area Transit (MRT-like thingy) stations so frequently throughout the film. In one particular scene, he inserts just 10 cents into a ticketing machine, and manages to enter the station with that ticket. Now I hadn't tried it myself, but it seems quite possible, as they do have some 'topping-up' machine inside the gates for you to use if you don't have sufficient value in your ticket when you try to get out of a particular station. The toilets in the stations, however, were closed when I was in SF, they mentioned sth abt 'criminal acts', or sth like that. Which is particularly inconvenient when you need to use the washroom urgently. Like that poor dude who probably wanted to use the toilet when Will Smith occupied it in that scene.

Yeah just some random thoughts from the movie that's stuck in my head.

Back.

I am back from my holiday in the US, and have come back with appropriate bribes for various people (mei that includes you lah ;p). I have also realised certain truths, collated new experiences, re-ignited old flames (lol) and enjoyed myself, basically.

Will elaborate more, of course, in due time.

Detachment.

To all my friends here and abroad, I do apologise for appearing to have disappeared from Manchester lately. I am still around, feel free to contact me, it's just that somehow in these past few weeks I've felt myself retreating into the comfortable cocoon of my room all too often. I have not migrated to Cambridge and apart from 3 days next week (tues to thurs i'll be in Paris, Mei you didn't see this) and 3rd-13th april (in the US - Mei you didn't see this either) i'll be here in Manchester.
Really.

Perceptions.

I somehow think people think too much of me.
I was talking with this group mate just after a lecture yesterday and during the conversation, she revealed that she thought I read up a LOT before lessons, judging from what I had discussed in class. I didn't correct her perception, of course, but it really surprised me. I mean, was it the general perception of Brits that Chinese people just study much more, or was it that I had really appeared to be so knowledgeable with the utter rubbish I was muttering in class?
Reminded me of something A said not too far back - he'd said that he'd rather consult me if he was ill, rather than W (jokingly, hopefully). It was quite surprising and flattering, to say the least. But pressurising, too, of course. I don't feel I am anywhere near the state of dispensing useful advice just yet, or even in 3 years' time.
And the chemistry tutor in JC who exclaimed 'What happened? We were all expecting you to get 4As you know...' when I went back to NJ back in my NS days. When I had got CDEO for my prelims.
And LM tells me that she feels loved, with the non-existent things I do to make her happy.
No seriously, I'm not trying to be humble - you know I'm not - it's more like, I feel that disappointment is always just a step away from expectation. I'd rather people not expect so much from me, sometimes.

Portfolio.

As you may or may not know, I have this portfolio thing that I have to compile throughout my medical career, well at least for the years whilst I'm here. It's a record of everything I've done, medical training, reflective pieces about patients I've met, etc. over here. I even get to critique the lecturers' teaching styles in my 'reflections'.

I was finishing up the last pieces a few hours (in the early morning actually) before the deadline as usual last week, when I realised the usefulness of it all.

No seriously, it was through writing the countless pieces of reflective writing (mostly of interviews with patients, how I feel I've done, etc) and also this SWOT (strengths, weaknesses, opportunities to correct weaknesses, threats to my future career) analysis (of myself) that I gained a little more understanding of myself.

Of course this sounds more than a little narcissistic, but the point I'm trying to make is - how often do we actually take a step back and evaluate ourselves, and why we behave the way we do? Especially when we're all so caught up with life and our troubles, do we, should we, sometimes say, 'hang on, I've still got all this to seek solace in' - and be glad that despite all our troubles, we still have our friends and family around us?

I sorta realised I wouldn't be thinking all these, say, 8 years ago. Interesting eh, what a few years can do to you.

Roll Along.

I am sincerely sorry for the lack of posts lately, it's just that I haven't found anything worth blogging about, and life's just rolling along as it always does. Or maybe it's that I've lost my literary edge (well, sorta) after being drowned in medical jargon, not-so-random numbers and a significant screwing up of my body clock.

Oh did I tell you I missed my honours for my semester test by 1 mark, and failed my OSCEs by 2 marks? I believe I'm still smarting from that, really, though I know I should have moved on by now. Grr.