I Refuse To Be A Walking Mid-Life Crisis In The Making
Studying Japanese made me happy. Doing Philosophy made me hungry – there was no end to my whys, just like there’s no end to the theories (all fundamentally flawed but always infinitely interesting). Reading Literature made me bored, especially in my final year. Taking Law satisfied (and suppressed) the what-if thought partially but it returns to haunt every now and then as Life becomes a mediocre farce.
As far as academic integrity goes, I was wholeheartedly pursuing where my study interests lie. That is something I cannot deny, even if on hindsight, my selfish pursuit of it may have denied me happiness consequently.
But importantly, am I happy now?
The road untravelled is always going to be the deferred (it's not always preferred, lah) destination. Deferred by default. I am forever imagining the what-ifs and only-ifs had I not accepted. It was Law, or The Arts. I was going to be A Great Lawyer, or A Great Writer, or both. Being the pragmatic and face-conscious person I am, it will have to be the former, unless I had some assurance of a bright future in the latter. When the bond offer came, I hesitated, but only for a moment, and I decided on The Arts, since the future is secured. At least, I did believe, with charming naivety, that it was a stepping stone (now the jumping board into a bottomless pit) for my writing aspirations.
The bond has its ups, obviously, but the downers were bad. There are times I am convinced my brain is atrophying at an exponential rate (thank goodness, I am super smart to begin with) and dulled with the passing of time. While job satisfaction can be overrated, some things are simply downright ridiculous.
Therefore, I read this with great incredulity and scepticism. I have been through a similar scenario. I thought it was what I wanted, I had it, and after that, I realized, with much despair and distress, that it was slowly murdering my brain, throttling my passion and squandering my youth, and still is. How inspiring can this be, you tell me.
For me, the meaning cannot be the journey itself. The meaning is found upon completion of that journey and realising you have the power to inscribe further. If rendered powerless in the face of a bizarre adversary determined to write you out of the story (simply by forgetting you ever existed), your role in the journey becomes meaningless. You are neither remembered nor acknowledged. The whole journey means nothing in the grand schemata of things. You have traveled in vain and your youthful idealism betrayed by another’s memory.
(for people who splutter at this spew, I quote Colin “Of course there are those who would argue that ultimately, the choice is one’s own and that there is nothing to prevent one from doing what he or she wants in Singapore. After all, isn’t it one’s fault for caving in to peer pressure? I would humbly submit that while theoretically true, such an argument betrays an ignorance of the combined workings of hegemony and power.” Such a lovely and talented man.)
As I see it now, I should have just got that Law degree. The decent writers and art practitioners are armed with one: Eleanor, Ivan, Selena, Gilbert, Adrian, Colin etc, just to name a few. Well, hell, yeah, it’s not too late for me to get it!
Now this is what I considered inspired writing and very inspiring living.
I refuse to be a walking mid-life crisis in the making (patented lines from Colin). I must remember my destinations. Enjoy my travels and the journeys, of course - I may take a shortcut, may be misled, can have detoured, and sometimes lost the way - but never, never must I forget or lose sight of where I am to go.
As far as academic integrity goes, I was wholeheartedly pursuing where my study interests lie. That is something I cannot deny, even if on hindsight, my selfish pursuit of it may have denied me happiness consequently.
But importantly, am I happy now?
The road untravelled is always going to be the deferred (it's not always preferred, lah) destination. Deferred by default. I am forever imagining the what-ifs and only-ifs had I not accepted. It was Law, or The Arts. I was going to be A Great Lawyer, or A Great Writer, or both. Being the pragmatic and face-conscious person I am, it will have to be the former, unless I had some assurance of a bright future in the latter. When the bond offer came, I hesitated, but only for a moment, and I decided on The Arts, since the future is secured. At least, I did believe, with charming naivety, that it was a stepping stone (now the jumping board into a bottomless pit) for my writing aspirations.
The bond has its ups, obviously, but the downers were bad. There are times I am convinced my brain is atrophying at an exponential rate (thank goodness, I am super smart to begin with) and dulled with the passing of time. While job satisfaction can be overrated, some things are simply downright ridiculous.
Therefore, I read this with great incredulity and scepticism. I have been through a similar scenario. I thought it was what I wanted, I had it, and after that, I realized, with much despair and distress, that it was slowly murdering my brain, throttling my passion and squandering my youth, and still is. How inspiring can this be, you tell me.
For me, the meaning cannot be the journey itself. The meaning is found upon completion of that journey and realising you have the power to inscribe further. If rendered powerless in the face of a bizarre adversary determined to write you out of the story (simply by forgetting you ever existed), your role in the journey becomes meaningless. You are neither remembered nor acknowledged. The whole journey means nothing in the grand schemata of things. You have traveled in vain and your youthful idealism betrayed by another’s memory.
(for people who splutter at this spew, I quote Colin “Of course there are those who would argue that ultimately, the choice is one’s own and that there is nothing to prevent one from doing what he or she wants in Singapore. After all, isn’t it one’s fault for caving in to peer pressure? I would humbly submit that while theoretically true, such an argument betrays an ignorance of the combined workings of hegemony and power.” Such a lovely and talented man.)
As I see it now, I should have just got that Law degree. The decent writers and art practitioners are armed with one: Eleanor, Ivan, Selena, Gilbert, Adrian, Colin etc, just to name a few. Well, hell, yeah, it’s not too late for me to get it!
Now this is what I considered inspired writing and very inspiring living.
I refuse to be a walking mid-life crisis in the making (patented lines from Colin). I must remember my destinations. Enjoy my travels and the journeys, of course - I may take a shortcut, may be misled, can have detoured, and sometimes lost the way - but never, never must I forget or lose sight of where I am to go.
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