Week -2

I think I've just had one of the happiest weeks of my life.
I might be exaggerating....and I have an actively forgetful memory.
Seems so anyway.
Admittedly, there were a few *cough* hiccups, here and there. But on the whole, it was kinda surreal. Well, maybe not surreal. Just..very nice. Very pleasant. Very wholesome. Like the pies we had in pie minister...complete with gravy, mashed potatoes and mushy peas.
ha....it's only now when I start to plan for myself that I realise how little planning I actually did in the past week.
and I am so anime. grins... yeah maybe I am.
I'll try out the tomyam recipe when term starts. hope it doesn't go bust. urgh..too many ingredients invovled. can't afford it to fail, really.
Ah well. So the term begins.
For me, anyway...

Disbelief

I am now moving forward in a mixture of fear and happiness.
Fear, because I am not sure how skilled I am to keep this budding flower from withering in the sun. Happiness, because I have found something surreal. But for now, I am overwhelmed with fear. I am afraid that I cannot keep this intact. I am afraid that I will ruin it with clumsy hands. Afraid that by some careless mistake, everything falls to pieces. But it is this fear that will be the true cause of destruction. I cannot be afraid, but I cannot remove irrational fears with rationality. I can only egg myself on. Clinging on to the one belief, that I am not alone in this. If I make a mistake, I will not be the only one to shoulder the consequences. There is another who will willingly forgive and remain. All my whims, no matter how troublesome or hurtful, will not be met with a cold shoulder. Only one that accepts and guides gently. I am surprised at how fast I have left the old and moved on with the new. I am surprised by what I have found here. Perhaps I am still in disbelief. It seems that I have found someone who actually wants to go the direction that I'm heading. But I cannot shake off this feeling of inadequacy. Doesn't seem as though I'll need to do anything. At least, nothing that I've done before. I do not need to be so eager to please. I only need to be myself. And I'd be loved for it.

I think I'm in shock.

Colombo airport

I am now in Colombo Aiport and trying really hard not to be petrified out of my guts. I seriously hope the guys in army uniform can actually do their job. urgh...I was just sitting there minding my own business and six different guys, at different times walked past and gave me the sort of creepy, super lecherous look. urgh....I should've should've should've worn jeans and a torn T-shirt or sth...but hey they're all gone now it seems...oh no, the guards on the other side look too hopeful, and there're at least ten other flights between mine and now.
maybe i'm just tired....i am very tired.... i'm skipping my class outing and having a delightful dinner with Yy and Nd. that's it. wine's on me. no extensive unnecessary social interactions. nothing. nope. urgh. tired. I have not stopped sitting down since...wow...friday...it's now sunday and I have eight more hours to go...eight hours of sitting down and trying not to fidget too much.
but some say that I chose such a life.
Oh and imagine my delight when the pilot said, the temperature is 28 degrees...and the lil' boy in front going, gosh it's humid here. that's when it dawned on me...i'm going home....like this is my territory. So I laughed out loud when that lil' caucasian kid said that line. I think they think I'm very weird.
i want to sleep.
Can't believe I fell asleep during take-off. I had window seats!! sighs... then i couldn't fall asleep after that. humph. but oh well, i'll def be able to see lots for the next flight. take-off AND landing. the runways look very pretty at night...all glittery and lit-up...

Effing Confused

Oh god…I’m so effing confused. I keep thinking about this relationship. And all the possibilities that lie ahead. And I keep replaying, and replaying and replaying. It’s driving me nuts. Oh god…maybe just keep me single. I don’t particularly like this.

It’s not the romantic floaty feeling that’s causing the headache. It’s the insecurities. What if he realized it’s all a huge hormonal/testosteronal mistake? Why has he not actively tried to seek me out, to talk and all? What can’t I just chuck all these revolving thoughts INTO THE BIN along with all my bloody cooking? No, I can’t coz it’s a waste…Urgh. And every two minutes, I feel like punching something. But I can’t coz the room’s not soundproof. So I piece that bloody puzzle.

And I can’t study or whatever coz I’m too frustrated. And the Internet’s gone wonky in my room. And I keep telling myself that it’ll wear off like most chemically-based feelings but I personally think it’ll last the entire time I’m here.I’ve also attempted to read Good Omens (a second time) but I mostly doze off after three pages or so. That means, I’ve slept the entire day.

Except when I was watching Transformers…really cool movie…redefines the notion of life.

Take deep breaths. Count to three… ok now, sort out which books you’re gonna bring home. Most probably Hewstone, Levine and Gazzaniga. The rest will be printed off the Net…

Solitude

Alone in Oxford, again.
Compared to that very first week I was here, this is heaven. That first horrifying week when I didn’t even dare to speak. Heck, I starved in my room for five hours till Hannah came by to show me around.
And now, well, the timidity is still there but it is compensated by familiarity. I had doubts then about being able to face loneliness. I suppose it is too much to ask someone to face both the unknown and isolation at the same time.

That said, judged against my complete dependence a few years ago, I think I’ve grown.

Right now, I am happy to be alone. Light. Free. Alive. Aided by a leeeetle bit more discipline.

A week of whatever I want to do.

Me and my jigsaw puzzle. Me and my anatomy book. Me and Mais Oui!. Me and my Penguin Russian.

Ohoh. Spoils of the day.
A Russian dictionary—three pounds
An A5 sketchpad-- ninety nine pence
A book on Surrealism-- three pounds
A puzzle of the map of Britain that comes with a laminated copy of the map!-- five pounds

Bitterness

I remember talking to Jasmine about why she feels there's this barrier between me and other people. That conversations was ages ago...last Xmas I think. I remember telling her that I don't really like showing my true self towards them.Because as long as I don't dislike them at first sight, I long to give them anything they require to the best of my ability. Anything. Attention. Time. Effort. ok maybe not money but anything else I can give...and that people find that odd sometimes. Like they think too much about it. So I like to pretend that that part of me doesn't exist. A lil' like I'm kinda ashamed of it.

I think I was wrong. I am much more selfish than that. Good thing was. It only took a small little incident this afternoon...not even an incident..more like a nuance of an incident, to make me realise the reason of my reluctance.

I'm afraid to give because I know that not everyone has this gift of giving. I used to think that everyone, deep down inside, has this urge. But now, I doubt that. And they have clear limits as to how much one can give others. So, I don't think I'll receive the same extent from them. The same commitment. And it annoys me. As for those that I've given a lot, it hurts. This is where Jesus is the best person to look at coz no one can possibly give him anything that matches what he gave them. And still, he gives freely. Freely.

I remember Aunty H saying that she expects nothing, nothing in return from anyone whom she has helped. I used to think that it's just some distant thought that'll never apply to me. Well, yup, you guessed it, it applies now. Instead of some wise saying, it's like a mantra I can chant. To keep on reminding myself. I do not give to get anything in return. It is not easy to be so indifferent about not being acknowledged, or not being paid attention, or whatever a human being could require. Love, in general. Evidence of love.

What pushed me to slight tears (keyword: SLIGHT) today was the fact that even here...there are people who feel the same way. They would like to give all they can to others. Maybe that's why they study things like medicine etc. It's just the frustrating fact that it is so evident in people who are built the same way. And that I've been kidding myself all along that I'll get something in return if only I try hard enough because that will arouse the same desire to give in the other person. But no, I think not. They have other gifts with which to beautify the world. And I, I am to give. Purely, untainted by greed, or jealousy, or bitterness. I am to give freely and joyfully.


though, I stand firm on the money thing. Not money. Na-ah. I'm short on that.

The 2008/9 Academic Year in Oxford

I can't believe...the year...has ended.
like that
JUST LIKE THAT!!
gar...
it poof-ed
The year...has been...
interesting.
I learnt lots
I've been through lots
Not enough. But lots.
And a dauntingly long summer is imminent.
But still...

can't say i wasn't proud of it though.

Skype

Bless Skype.

Seriously.

Seems as though everyone i care about are all either techno-phobic or way too busy to go online.

Good thing I randomly loaded ten pounds into it. Well, not randomly. Was in New York (end April), needed to call the cab company. It's now mid June and I've been calling overseas like crazy, and STILL I have five pounds thirty left.

Nice to talk to YY again.

Seriously.

I've forgotten the calmness and steadiness she brings with her. And after a year of not talking, we picked it up again easily. And it sounds as though we've both changed subtly but not too much. How is it that I can do this so easily with Yy and not with Xj? Not the "picking up" part, just the "not talking". Well, I know that Yy can be frustrating at times, and overly rational and definitely busy, and I have to act double cheery around her. But still. She's also just a friend who really cares. That, for now, is a lot better, neater, than the messy web I have with Xj.
If the brain was like that, we'd still be Cnidarians.

Note: A SQUID is NOT a Cnidarian. I'll leave you to work out the rest.



Oh and have pple seen Zits recently?? He's working in the CINEMA! Ha....the old days.

Gloomy updates

These past few days have not been good. Everything that I have so carefully built up and maintained just came crashing down. I cannot focus. I feel so scattered. I feel like melting into the carpet. And that hard found will to do what I want to do...that motivation I struggled so hard to put in place...just sputtered, and died. I don't even remember how it feels like anymore. That life, and that summer sun. Even the weather follows my mental state now. Bleak. Empty. Lifeless. Desperate. Rainy. Cold.
Yeah well. At least I helped cook for thirty on Monday for iFocus.
Gloomy updates.
Fly project rejected me. just coz I'm a first year.
Implying a really screwed summer
BOTH my college children are in Computer Science.
I forgot to turn up to the contract signing thing for Oriel Ball. Not that I'm keen on working in the cloak room.
I also forgot to apply for holiday accomodation.
Au Pair application is very dreary and seems hopeless. But still, one hopes.
I got dumped. seriously. I never envisioned it. It's not even official. There're no words for it.
I have a lab report due in five hours and the data set is eleven pages long.
I am also being ignored which is specifically what I asked for.
I am watching Sex and the City to keep myself sane. That is not a good sign.
Have also been considering going out with..ahem...someone. An equally bad sign. A sign of desperation
Either that, or to go for Cloud 9 events. Google "Cloud 9, oxford" for implications.

This is sad. Things better turn out ok. I bloody did what You wanted this time! Even dunked my head in water to prove it.

Baptism

Of all the warm summer days they could've chosen, they chose the coldest of them all. The coldest, and the day most likely to rain.

Everyone forgot that I was to be baptised. or rather, no one told anyone else that I was to be baptised. So...well, main point is, I ended up crying. Grr... I did not ask for it.

Why did I cry? No idea. Maybe coz of the frustration that such an important occasion was so rushed, so...forgotten... Maybe coz of nervousness too. Maybe coz of joy? Maybe...well, maybe to get attention, coz I definitely got that. Harriet prayed for me and shooed me into her office to write the lil' speech thingy, and lent me her towel. Becky talked to Phil... lottie prayed. Jasmine was summoned in from the lawns.

She helped me with writing my lil' speech thingy. It was very short, and to those who do not know me, very insignificant. I don't really remember the words but it meant sth along the lines of Thank you very very much Lord for pouring out so much love, and for this chance to manifest a portion of it.

We went to Port Meadow.

We saw the meadow. The huge, boundless, natural meadow.

Then, we saw a small group huddled around a small patch of clearing beside the river. Someone was handing out programme booklets (without my name), and trash bags. I was pushed to the front row. Two other baptis-ees were late.

We sang a bit. Heard a short sermon. Sang some more. And shared our stories.

I looked at my batch of newborns. I admit that I didn't like many them very much, especially after listening to their stories. But, still, I couldn't help thinking how many will actually make it. How many will drown, how many will struggle to stay afloat, how many will walk on water. If it is all the will of God, how do we fail without blaming Him? But, no matter, trivial, really.

We took turns to be dunked into the river. Dunking: two strong men (ahem, phil jack and vaughan roberts) holding your arms and shoulders, pulling you back first into the water. Underwater. Note: do not, do not inhale. and back again.

Right after that, the migraine I had intensified fivefold. Jasmine hurried me back and I took a shower. Then, i slept. I slept for so long. The headache persisted for a day or two.

I would like to think...that after that horrible headache, everything shone, sounds were crystals and sunlight was like rain. They might have been. I fell back into the nightmarish, soppy sadness I had. For two weeks, everything continued to fall apart. Then, everything rebuilt itself around me. I might have been prepared before this, but after this, I was readier than I've ever felt. Ready. What do you call a growth that was both a sudden leap and a continuous stroll? Maybe it was more a sudden increase in capacity, but the actual learning itself hasn't taken place? oh well..that was that.

I made chicken porridge today, seemed alright. Gave some to Marcus..ahem..I mean Arachnodactyl.

It didn't feel very good, when something as serious as a major decision in my life was taken as a joke. Was I being too analytical though? I was probably not firm enough to be analytical last time.

It rained all day today. Very cold outside. And I've looped the Með Suð í Eyrum Við Spilum Endalaust album by Sigur Ros at least twenty times today.

Artemisa said that there are two ways one can face a situation like mine:
the short burst of pain, hence the unstoppable tears for a week.
Or, the slow release of pain, hence a certain slowing down of life, the perpetual urge to go back to bed, tired, fatigued, spent.
I am the latter. I have missed French, Focus and punting this week. That crushing pain did not come. Instead, I want to sleep. People keep asking me if I'm alright. Maybe they'd be less concerned if I had burst into tears before them.

I will be baptised tomorrow. That was joked about as well. But yeah...it still feels too much like a ritual to me. Though unlike the rest, it is the one ritual that Jesus performed. Probably the only one. A public proclamation. Some things will have to change after tomorrow. A wedding to a marriage. Things change and don't change. Things become more serious. I am baptised. I really belong to god now. Though I have always belonged to him. One might think it's trivial. But i suppose it is time for me to tell the world that I am in love with the one true god who has been hoping for this day since the first spark of the big bang. To tell everyone and be joyful.

I don't know. Why does it matter? But it surely seems to matter a lot. To marry or not to marry. To officially go out or not to officially go out. To be baptised or not to be baptised. Clear categorizations. To fall into clear roles within a relationship. I suppose after my baptism, I should take my responsibilities as a servant and child more seriously. Therein lies the problem. What ARE my responsibilities? Sighs..yea yea I know them vaguely. Sighs again..I hope the freezing cold water of the river tomorrow will help. Weather Forecast: Heavy showers. I have assigned Jasmine to take videos/pictures, and to be ready with a big white fluffy towel.

Thoughts

I had a sudden realisation. The kind that comes when you spread your vines of thought everywhere and it all fits.

What is the difference between a romance and a friendship?

First and foremost, the absence of sex.
In the latter, presumably
There are probably other differences but this is probably the best place to start adjusting. To remove that maniacal craving.
Love will still and always be there. To no lesser degree. But channeled in a different form. The problem is whether I'd actually be able to express it in a different way, without diminishing the intensity. Because I doubt it'd be healthy to ignore the magnitude aspect.
or does it mean that with sex removed, another way expressing love is also removed?

Should a partner be closer than friends? Seems so. Or are friends just different? On a different scale. A different level. It also seems that if two friends become too close, they seem like a couple. I suppose the amount of time spent with each other is a great way to differentiate the two.
check. Ok good, firstly remove sex. then, devote less time. To me, it seems, that lessens the intensity by a lot.
Do we have a limited capacity, in terms of love?
I suppose we do.
Spending time on someone. That's the cap. Time. We have limited time. And resources and mental processing capacity. For real love entails love that is shown.
Expectations. Does that result in major differences? Would we expect ourselves to do more for a spouse than for a friend? Yes, it seems.

All in all, I seem to be reaching the conclusion that I need to love her less, because I am limited in many ways. I cannot have a friend who would compete with a spouse for love.

Consider also the support offered. A spouse offers emotional support while family and friends offer social support. Bereavement is ranked as the greatest trauma one can experience. What is meant by emotional support? or social support? Support? Support means help. Help is something others offer which one cannot achieve or accomplish. Social support according to wiki: "physical and emotional comfort given to us by our family, friends, co-workers and others". Help is the relief of discomfort. There are a few forms of discomfort one can feel: physical, emotional, mental etc.

Perhaps the categorization proposed by certain social psychologists is too simple. Maybe they meant that one turns primarily to a spouse when we feel sad because a spouse, someone who sees us day and night, by sheer trial and error, knows how to make us happy again. We leave our families to join a spouse in a romantic relationship. Maybe a spouse cannot offer extensive physical or mental support, but emotionally they can. Quoth many a movie: He makes me laugh.

Considered in this line, not many pple can assume the role of a spouse. Anyone can potentially be a friend.
A romance is a relationship where two people are devoted to making each other happy, safe, and confident about life. And growth. The careful nurturing of each other, because presumably we would only be happy in growth and flourishment.
Does this not occur with a friend?

Sighs. Still it boils down to sex, and starting a family. Therefore the long hours required in getting to know each other etc. But no, no! People talk about having someone to share life with, to share everything with, to count on being there every step of the way. Someone you can't resist giving everything to. Someone whom you can't live without. Why don't you feel that in a friend? How do you remove it from a relationship?
I can't help that. It will always be there, and I will pounce on every sign of hope given to me. To be able to spend the rest of my life seeing that one person. How do you erase that from a relationship? I feel that I can only dampen it, until something better comes along.
Is that the only way?

Then I do not know what this six months will be for. Probably just enough time to put out the fire of a burning house with a beach bucket and shovel. Bury it. Let it not see light. No more.

Break Up

My heart is mine for the time being.
This constant dull ache. It's back again. The night before, I pleaded to the heavens, I don't want to go through this again.
Right now. It seems so unclear, why, why, why, what happened. I thought it was all fine. But seven years, it really does seem too long. I could've waited a lil' longer, but that is the lazy option. This bond that entangles my heart, rather than uplift it. The cool-headed logic stays an echo. It is still painful.
It wasn't so bad.
I cling on to the last words she said. "If i am to repent somewhere in the future, may i be cursed or damned, i will enter it with the correct attitude." What the fuck did I do. Why did I do this. Somewhere in my mind, a cheery voice says, "But hey, what better to speed up your growth?" In a very sad and sick way, yes, it is right.
To the world, the world would never comprehend. Between the two of us, we know that beyond this, that, what was, there is an ideal we seek to fulfil. This, this is just a prelude. I saw a gap of ten years in my so-called visions. This is practice. All parts of me scream against it, save for this small beam of light from the future, and the things to come.
Unfit, now. Unsuitable. Insufficient. Maybe, at the end of the road.

But for now. That is untrue. The dull ache remains. And the trundle of life.