College Life Vol. I

Exuberance and excitement channeled through me as the thought of getting back to the academic track has finally become a reality. I strode along the hallway of the college, displaying confidence externally; internally however, I felt extremely lost. It was as if I were relocated to a peregrine land, with just a few resources lying around, no friend or family. Nevertheless, to build my empire, I had to start somewhere which is non other than what introverts with severely damaged self-esteem despise the most, making new friends.

Personally, getting to know a stranger is perhaps the most tedious and excruciating process ever. Hence why I always have the proclivity to avoid stranger at all cost as there are only two possible immediate outcomes: If you are lucky, you get to keep the conversation going without the awkward silence that makes you constantly question yourself “WHAT THE HELL SHOULD I ASK?!” Otherwise, you might sit silently or even attempt to strike an unenthusiastic conversation knowing that both of you share no common interest what so ever. Maybe that is just my pessimistic view on socialising in general.

So, moving along with time, I gradually garnered enough strength to mingle with my classmates which consist of mostly alpha men, whose personalities utterly contrasted with my high school friends. Talking to them was a rather difficult task, especially for someone who is not sporty and does not like anything that a guy is “supposed” to like, including the opposite gender. Therefore, sometimes when they are having a manly discussion, I’ll just sit at a corner nodding at every word they say, portraying this masculine persona as if I understand what are they chatting about. Despite doing so, I guess my horrendous acting skill (which disqualified me as an actor in a high school drama competition) was so obvious that one of my friend ended up questioning my abrupt change of behaviour when I was surrounded by them.

On the opposite side of the spectrum, the girls in my class however, are very friendly and easy to get along with. (or maybe I tend to mingle with girls more often as I find them more relatable) I befriended with these few girls who are very cool, gossipy and frankly quite opinionated. Nevertheless, everything changed when the alpha males nation attacked. They started spreading rumour about how I admire one of the girls, to the extent that we now find it extremely awkward to even converse or have any sort of physical interaction. I can’t really blame them for spreading said rumour as I was the one guilty for spearheading it. (I accidentally called her out when the teacher asked to choose a person “who I admire the most” and that the last 5 words didn’t really register into my mind when I was considering for the eligible nominees) It was humiliating to say the least.

And that basically summed up the first chapter of my college life. It’s exciting for sure, but I have no idea what underlying obstacles awaiting me as I continue to propel further onto this path.



The Forbidden Infatuation

Talking to you is akin to the therapy that I have always needed to mend my chimerical chamber of imagination. It is therapeutic in a way that no word can truly explain how it feels. Everytime we talk, I could never look you in your eyes and yet, my heart never skip a beat.

I am shy, in front of you, yet I have always longed for your attention. Your smile never cease to mitigate the sorrow in my heart. Every morning, I check my notification, just to see if you are there, replying my messages. Every night, I drag our conversation, just so that we can stay in touch for a little longer.

You told me, “I want to talk to you everyday.” You have no idea how ecstatic I was at that moment. Even when you didn’t feel like talking, my desperate self will find a way to start a conversation with you. When you are silent, I never cease to wonder, were you depressed? I feel so obligated to make you happy that it hurts, so why aren’t you happy?

On that day, I really wanted our graduation photograph, just the both of us, to be posted as my display picture but I was scared, scared to be exposed. During our group outings, I even rejected my friend’s offer just so that I could sit beside you in the theater, staring at your smile and your cute face when you were terrified. I faked that I need to hold someone’s hand during moments of jump scare, just so that I have an excuse to hold your hand.

I know this is a one-sided admiration that will never bloom any time in the future, since you are in love and just treating me merely as your best friend. I hope that you discover happiness in your current relationship, while I can only sit at the corner, dreaming to ever meet a guy who mirrors you. You allowed me to feel a whole new sensation that I was never familiar with.

It is not love, nor is it a feeling of falling for you. Is it?

Lost In Bleak Darkness

Often enough, I always find myself drifting amid the stream of knowledge and wisdom where there is seemingly endless horizon, yet my movement is perpetually confined and my thoughts are always feathering into tributaries but will never coalesce. Emergence of a brilliant idea, most often than not, will be eclipsed by a series of mental discourse and deliberation. Hence, I am afraid to write. Afraid that my idiosyncratic creation will be perceived merely as a kitsch. Afraid that my perception and presentation do not appeal to the mass. But mostly, I am afraid of being judged.

It has been months ever since I held my pencil akin to a mighty sword, devoting my soul into the sanctified paradise of writing. I cherish those memories. The exhilaration and contentment of extracting a masterpiece from your chamber of cerebration and imagination never seize to fulfill my draining satisfaction. However, as my mind begins to fill with void, there is a colossal edifice that halts my propagation. It prevents access to my chimerical imagination and artistry. Eventually, holding a pencil no longer emanates surging vitality and electrifying experience but more so becomes a heavy burden strapped onto my shoulders.

I am stranded in this bleak darkness. However, with the motivations and inspirations bestowed upon me, I believe I will gradually garner the strength to escape from this predicament. This is the first approach that I have taken towards the realm of light. I know for a fact that I must now disregard the time albatross and write as I please, write till I discover my purpose and finally, write till I’m able to reach the horizon of the endless stream.

Look where I’m at now (2015)

My heart was pounding hard on the thought of reuniting with my beloved buddies as I stepped both of my foots on the ground on the entrance of my school. The feeling is a mixture between exhilaration and excitement. “It’s going to be a great year,” I thought. Little did I know that my current state is utterly opposing that particularly naïve claim.

“Open your additional mathematics textbook and turn to page 54, circle a, b, c, d, e ,f. Then, turn to page 56 and circle b, d, e, f. That’s it for your homework!” My face immediately slammed on the rock hard table. “Wait, before I leave, you all have to hand in your books tomorrow! Otherwise….” she glared at us through her classic oval-framed glasses upon finishing her speech and the bell chimed afterwards. I gazed in awe, at the pile of homework stacking perfectly in front of me, awaiting me to shove it down my bag. Did I forget to state that it was just the 3rd week of school reopening.

Life gets harder, we have always heard of this phrase, but do we actually know what it means by harder? No, because it’s entirely subjective. Personally, I can totally relate to the phrase. From the mountain-like pile of homework and the increasing difficulty of theories and formulas, I started to find it hard to assimilate what teacher is trying to convey via the whiteboard. It gets worse when it comes to exam. Before this I had only six subjects in exam, but now I have 10!



the year where incidents occurred frequently,
we played hide and seek with plights repeatedly,
afraid of being caught into the cesspool of death,
we fought till the end of our breath,
to protect the loved ones and the rest.

the year where calamities restricted happiness,
caused humans to live under the roof of emptiness,
only tears of loss filled up the ocean,
when there are no vials of potion,
to rescue the unfortunate humans.

was just another year,
where we start to contemplate the roots of our tears,
when it all revolves around us,
the wrongdoings of human,
to the nature surrounding us. -The Gaga Tan


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