2012 in 5 minutes
About two weeks ago, I stuck purikura and Instax snaps all over the wall in front of my desk to add a splash of colour. It was grey and windy that day, and there was a chill snaking around the edges of the heart, so what better way to smile than smiling at faces that you miss? But, over the days, the pictures have been slipping off on their own. Maybe it is reflective of the transition into a new year, perhaps it is characteristic of the weak adhesion people have in the lives of others: we will never know if there was an intention more poetic than gravity. (although the notion that all things eventually return to where they sprang from is pretty romantic) Either way, I vacillated between happiness, at seeing their faces and recalling memories where they had been immortalized in, and sadness, at realizing that I might not see some of them ever again. That, in essence, was 2012. Meeting people, missing people; presence, absence, hoping, coping. If it sounds dreary and blue, it wasn't, for the most part. Not the days, at least. 2012 was a year of... adventure. Journey. Many firsts. It was the year that I had been waiting for. It was the year when I went to Tokyo, the fucking craziest city in the entire world, and lived there on my fucking own and met fucking amazing people. Enough said. But no, I have a chronic need to blather and ramble, so here goes the annual summary of dazed days:
I just went back to skim through last year's entries. Hahahahahahaha. Hindsight really equips you with a face-palm function, and I think my cheeks are red from slapping myself silly after reading the private posts. Especially when it appears to be deja vu. But the heart wants what the heart wants, so the first quarter of the year was interesting. Itchy hearts and feverish minds, nights were a constant state of restlessness. There were things to do and errands to be run. I attended lessons voluntarily, learnt some things, but never really put my soul into anything, because I knew they did not matter. It was fun though: soccer, meeting up with friends as and when, the Aussie kids were back as well, films that touched me and left me dreaming for ages, sketching the near-future with fuzzy excitement, planning and researching. Frothy and light, like whipped cream days.
Then: March 27 - August 26. The loneliness was crippling at first, but it was simultaneously empowering. Because I was there and had no other choice, I had to pull myself together anyway. Furthermore, what was the worst that could happen? I strutted around with the swagger of a child who had known no misfortune, coasted on the goodwill of strangers, and uncurled rehearsed phrases from my tongue. Tokyo was a good place for the uncertain, because it was so flippant. The people had their own rules and their own styles, and maybe it was due to their unwavering belief in their identity that they were all so nice. So caring. The first week of traveling was carefree and eye-opening. Then, moving into the dormitory, meeting the international students, meeting the Japanese students at various parties in the hall or school, joining the soccer team, meeting the MEXT students, slowly forging bonds and inside jokes and experiences. There were things to do, places to see, people to hang out with, not always, but often. If you tried. And damn, I tried. Tried to find things to do, places to see and did them, even without people to hang with at times. Haha, carpe diem right? And I loved the simplest things. The quiet suburbs of Tama, the Seibu Tamagawa line with only six stations, the crazy bustle of Shinjuku station with 16 lines, Harajuku and its eclectic, vibrant sprawl of shops, quaint alleys and nooks of Shimokitazawa, the comfortable familiarity with Kichijoji, milk tea with Renakkuma, Line stickers with Jay, my favourite Australian and German, overnight karaoke, clubbing till the first trains, the night lights, the neon lights, the KONBINI and their robotic greetings and fast food @ 2am, maple syrup and butter pancakes that are 140 yen, laughing into the middle of the night at youtube videos with Sara, Tegan's bakery in her room, Japanese language classes (when I managed to get up in time), Rudy Rudy Rudy that chump, Ivy and her sweet motherly soul, Mei Mei and Ming Ming, Nicolas and his dark sense of humour, Nobutaka the rock star, Sarpos the diligent, Daniel the giggler, and then, the Japanese culture classes and the people I have met there, delightful and dear, I want to hug each and every one of them now, if I could see them before my eyes. They are so tiny now, but only because we are all spinning away from each other. How long more would it be till everything is unstuck? Hmmmmmmmm
Nine days in Hokkaido, three days in Tsukuba, ten days in Korea, meeting a different group every day for the remaining nine, August was a blur, up to the moment I came back. Then, time slowed down, and I didn't know what to fill it up with. School, probably, yes. Then, soccer started up again, and it grew to take up so much of my time. I guess, I was glad, because I had really lost my bearings, so it was easier to be swallowed by something that demanded commitment. Met people, made friends. Slacked and caught up on shows. Ignored school. Pulled off all-nighters for deadlines. Slacked. Wrote and wrote and wrote and wrote and wrote, trying to condense the cotton wool between ears into quills. Liked how words glistened under moonlight, and wrote some more. Decided that I wanted to be a writer, so I went to a reading. Decided it was glorious, reading my piece to others, telling a story: that is a fundamental drive in people. Decided that readings were places to decide how jealous one should be of other writers. Decided to be lazy again. Soccer, soccer, soccer, last-minute studying, gliding through the exams, AUG trip, and more amorphous slacking. Oh, the last quarter of the year sounds too boring. But it wasn't; it just grew tedious at times. But I always had wonderful company that kept me laughing and laughing, be it road-trips, or mispronunciations, or funny expressions, or biting sarcasm, or hilarious antics. The list goes on. The days may have fused with each other, but it has been a band of shiny, trippy gold.
Personal growth: yes. (and no.) It is cyclical. Some days, I am so fucking cocksure of my place in the world. Other days, I am ugly. But for the most part, I came into my own. I grew to realise that I would be pretty much okay, no matter where I was in the world, because I am rather awesome. Hahaha, kidding. I am rather adaptable. Was it by choice, or by circumstance? Don't know, but it was a nice feeling to have: knowing that you could go anywhere and everywhere and not be too fazed or intimidated. I liked myself when I was in Japan as well. Always raring to accelerate, thick-skinned, go-getter, I looked for things to do and did them. All-day shoegaze music festival. Yes. Bungee jumping. Yes. Exploring Tama on foot at night. Yes. It was tiring, but somehow, it made me feel so alive. I could use some of the gumption, the determination right now. As for feelings, I don't know. I am the same idiot I have always been. A child, if I like something, I say it and bleed all over the sleeves. It is not encouraged; it is not smart. But I still do it. Bah. If anything, I have gotten better at rationalizing and distracting myself. The world is so wonderful, I don't have to do much to be mesmerized. Optimism, YES, GOOD. In 2013, I want concentration. Less dizziness, less flightiness. If something makes me happy, pursue it. Or something like that. Do people still make resolutions? I resolve to find out. Haha.
Crowning the Year of the xx is a tradition, so 2012 is the year of the words. Boo, what a vague answer. But I had Year of the Internet, UK/US shows, K-Pop, Chinese indie, films, English indie, and I still like all of that, and spend effort catching up with those things, so much so that I haven't had the time to find something new that I have really loved this year. A stand-out would be Andrea Gibson's poem "Birthday". I can recite along with her, hear the intonation and the desperation strung along pauses for breath, and still swoon a little inside whenever she spoke of kite-strings and songbirds perched on fingertips. I began reading more online: pretty poems, seductive snippets, and my eyes dazzled when I read how some people dressed their sentences with half-whispers and ink-twines. Surreality. And I tried to do the same, give me a gold star for trying. But for someone who purportedly loves to write, I sure haven't done much reading. Bookdepository, I am coming fer uuuuuuu!
This is such a weird post. Hahaha. It is as if I gave up after the first paragraph. My brain is sliding off the lip of consciousness as well. Good night late nights. 2012, you were strange, zany, and wonderful. 2013, please be kind. Please be forgiving to a young adult who is learning and trying, even when she just spent the last twelve hours sprawling around the house. Hahaha.
I just went back to skim through last year's entries. Hahahahahahaha. Hindsight really equips you with a face-palm function, and I think my cheeks are red from slapping myself silly after reading the private posts. Especially when it appears to be deja vu. But the heart wants what the heart wants, so the first quarter of the year was interesting. Itchy hearts and feverish minds, nights were a constant state of restlessness. There were things to do and errands to be run. I attended lessons voluntarily, learnt some things, but never really put my soul into anything, because I knew they did not matter. It was fun though: soccer, meeting up with friends as and when, the Aussie kids were back as well, films that touched me and left me dreaming for ages, sketching the near-future with fuzzy excitement, planning and researching. Frothy and light, like whipped cream days.
Then: March 27 - August 26. The loneliness was crippling at first, but it was simultaneously empowering. Because I was there and had no other choice, I had to pull myself together anyway. Furthermore, what was the worst that could happen? I strutted around with the swagger of a child who had known no misfortune, coasted on the goodwill of strangers, and uncurled rehearsed phrases from my tongue. Tokyo was a good place for the uncertain, because it was so flippant. The people had their own rules and their own styles, and maybe it was due to their unwavering belief in their identity that they were all so nice. So caring. The first week of traveling was carefree and eye-opening. Then, moving into the dormitory, meeting the international students, meeting the Japanese students at various parties in the hall or school, joining the soccer team, meeting the MEXT students, slowly forging bonds and inside jokes and experiences. There were things to do, places to see, people to hang out with, not always, but often. If you tried. And damn, I tried. Tried to find things to do, places to see and did them, even without people to hang with at times. Haha, carpe diem right? And I loved the simplest things. The quiet suburbs of Tama, the Seibu Tamagawa line with only six stations, the crazy bustle of Shinjuku station with 16 lines, Harajuku and its eclectic, vibrant sprawl of shops, quaint alleys and nooks of Shimokitazawa, the comfortable familiarity with Kichijoji, milk tea with Renakkuma, Line stickers with Jay, my favourite Australian and German, overnight karaoke, clubbing till the first trains, the night lights, the neon lights, the KONBINI and their robotic greetings and fast food @ 2am, maple syrup and butter pancakes that are 140 yen, laughing into the middle of the night at youtube videos with Sara, Tegan's bakery in her room, Japanese language classes (when I managed to get up in time), Rudy Rudy Rudy that chump, Ivy and her sweet motherly soul, Mei Mei and Ming Ming, Nicolas and his dark sense of humour, Nobutaka the rock star, Sarpos the diligent, Daniel the giggler, and then, the Japanese culture classes and the people I have met there, delightful and dear, I want to hug each and every one of them now, if I could see them before my eyes. They are so tiny now, but only because we are all spinning away from each other. How long more would it be till everything is unstuck? Hmmmmmmmm
Nine days in Hokkaido, three days in Tsukuba, ten days in Korea, meeting a different group every day for the remaining nine, August was a blur, up to the moment I came back. Then, time slowed down, and I didn't know what to fill it up with. School, probably, yes. Then, soccer started up again, and it grew to take up so much of my time. I guess, I was glad, because I had really lost my bearings, so it was easier to be swallowed by something that demanded commitment. Met people, made friends. Slacked and caught up on shows. Ignored school. Pulled off all-nighters for deadlines. Slacked. Wrote and wrote and wrote and wrote and wrote, trying to condense the cotton wool between ears into quills. Liked how words glistened under moonlight, and wrote some more. Decided that I wanted to be a writer, so I went to a reading. Decided it was glorious, reading my piece to others, telling a story: that is a fundamental drive in people. Decided that readings were places to decide how jealous one should be of other writers. Decided to be lazy again. Soccer, soccer, soccer, last-minute studying, gliding through the exams, AUG trip, and more amorphous slacking. Oh, the last quarter of the year sounds too boring. But it wasn't; it just grew tedious at times. But I always had wonderful company that kept me laughing and laughing, be it road-trips, or mispronunciations, or funny expressions, or biting sarcasm, or hilarious antics. The list goes on. The days may have fused with each other, but it has been a band of shiny, trippy gold.
Personal growth: yes. (and no.) It is cyclical. Some days, I am so fucking cocksure of my place in the world. Other days, I am ugly. But for the most part, I came into my own. I grew to realise that I would be pretty much okay, no matter where I was in the world, because I am rather awesome. Hahaha, kidding. I am rather adaptable. Was it by choice, or by circumstance? Don't know, but it was a nice feeling to have: knowing that you could go anywhere and everywhere and not be too fazed or intimidated. I liked myself when I was in Japan as well. Always raring to accelerate, thick-skinned, go-getter, I looked for things to do and did them. All-day shoegaze music festival. Yes. Bungee jumping. Yes. Exploring Tama on foot at night. Yes. It was tiring, but somehow, it made me feel so alive. I could use some of the gumption, the determination right now. As for feelings, I don't know. I am the same idiot I have always been. A child, if I like something, I say it and bleed all over the sleeves. It is not encouraged; it is not smart. But I still do it. Bah. If anything, I have gotten better at rationalizing and distracting myself. The world is so wonderful, I don't have to do much to be mesmerized. Optimism, YES, GOOD. In 2013, I want concentration. Less dizziness, less flightiness. If something makes me happy, pursue it. Or something like that. Do people still make resolutions? I resolve to find out. Haha.
Crowning the Year of the xx is a tradition, so 2012 is the year of the words. Boo, what a vague answer. But I had Year of the Internet, UK/US shows, K-Pop, Chinese indie, films, English indie, and I still like all of that, and spend effort catching up with those things, so much so that I haven't had the time to find something new that I have really loved this year. A stand-out would be Andrea Gibson's poem "Birthday". I can recite along with her, hear the intonation and the desperation strung along pauses for breath, and still swoon a little inside whenever she spoke of kite-strings and songbirds perched on fingertips. I began reading more online: pretty poems, seductive snippets, and my eyes dazzled when I read how some people dressed their sentences with half-whispers and ink-twines. Surreality. And I tried to do the same, give me a gold star for trying. But for someone who purportedly loves to write, I sure haven't done much reading. Bookdepository, I am coming fer uuuuuuu!
This is such a weird post. Hahaha. It is as if I gave up after the first paragraph. My brain is sliding off the lip of consciousness as well. Good night late nights. 2012, you were strange, zany, and wonderful. 2013, please be kind. Please be forgiving to a young adult who is learning and trying, even when she just spent the last twelve hours sprawling around the house. Hahaha.