A Worthy Comparison

She warms with a smile, and scorches with a touch. Unfathomably larger-than-life, her presence is so impossibly significant that nobody can ever dream up a storyline where she doesn’t take centre stage. She may someday vanish, but like the sun leaves its light for the moon to shine back to the world, she too will leave her legacy to shine upon every dark alleyway.

So the next time you are looking for a metaphor to pair her up with, don’t undermine her with something dim and ineffectual. Match everything that she is and everything that she will be with a metaphor worthy of it.

She lights up every pavement, but leaves behind only ash and dust.

Call her sunshine. Call her blowtorch.

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There is beauty in teenage angst 

Nobody understands me.

Easily the mantra of every angst-ridden teenager.

Nobody understands me.

The declaration that plagued me and probably every single teenager who has ever stormed off in a snit.

Nobody understands me.

False.

Possibly the most life-altering thing I have ever learnt is that nothing I have ever felt before is unique to me: it has at some point been felt by someone else.

I learnt this the first time I read Plath.

Comforting, but also terrifying because life then becomes a game of combinations and permutations, the same old human experiences in jumbled up chronology, with a myriad of filters and geotags slapped onto them. Perhaps all you are is yet another notch on the bedpost of life.

Nobody Everybody understands me.

The former seems preferable.

To someone whose priority in life is individuality, this universal camaraderie is terrifying. Being alone, though painful, conjures up singular and original. Being part of this transcendental humanity, though comforting, conjures up hackneyed and ordinary.

To my younger self: there is beauty in teenage angst. 

Here’s to capturing little memories.

Today was the last official day of my first year at college and I’m just recalling how I came so close to (stupidly) leaving all this behind but I am so glad I didn’t because nothing beats the happiness and comfort I found in NUS.

I can’t possibly stuff everything in here, but: minority lunches, ridiculous lit exposure mod lectures, Crocs are Kool, Bollywood chaos with Miyuki, uTown study sessions and slacking on the green with my one true love Dana, walking from uTown to KR because shuttle buses are crap, being in a constant sweaty as heck state, constantly laughing in marketing lectures with Darren (with amazing teachers who come up and thank you because they are just that humble), being challenged every minute in Crit Reading, being absolutely befuddled by totality, Crocs finding out about Oedipus for the first time, his shorts, Un Chien Andalou, leaning on Aisyah during an intense moment in class and not getting shrugged off, R21 Thursday lunches with 1Fass, EN Alots Anonymous, “please be my doctor”, horrid groupwork, “media are”, bitching sessions with Doob, Fluff Bakery, Miralliance, SyaSya, all the birthday surprises, #alagucomestonus, umbrella feet, last min essay rush all-nighters, my gurl Amy, ‘whispering’ stupid things to Crocs and getting into trouble because he always laughs way too loudly, always having Aisyah (even if she does give me too much tough love), freezing lit lessons, cute encounters with cute white boys, collab commons, compliment circles, “ooookay, okay okay, ooookay”, getting lost in FASS pretty much every day, “Darren is a good guy! It’ll be fine!”, bad printing memories in CLB, reading short stories in class complete with voices, finally learning more about my indian history, favourite hugs from Mira, picnic on the patch, unexpected fanfic company with Jingyin, “I only wear these shoes with this outfit cos they match”, spontaneous lit lunches (and planned lit lunches), bad module bidding memories, hangman with Mei Jia, screaming with Gerrie at The Player and so many more wonderful, beautiful, fabulous, precious, insane memories and even if I may not always remember them all right this moment, I’ll always remember how they made me feel: 100% young, free, wild (using this ironically, I promise)

Ended off the year in the best way possible, with an amazingly standard school day with great lit baes, Thursday lunch, and dinner at uTown. Lying on the green holding hands with Amirah and Dana (cos i’m a ho) (sorry Aisyah we luv u), staring at the sky and pretentiously trying to identify stars, rolling down the slope like madwomen under the cover of nightfall, finding the best seating positions with Dana. I can think of no better tribute to the emotional roller coaster of an academic year I’ve had at NUS, and right now I’m so unbelievably filled with warmth and happiness and goodness and it sucks that every happy moment is turning into a memory so swiftly but I’m so prepared to enjoy every bit of the next 3 years to come and just AIYA I’M HAPPY I STAYED IN SINGAPORE AND WENT TO NUS AND EVERYTHING OK EVERYTHING IS GREAT LET’S HOPE I DON’T FLUNK OUT.

Glasses

Some nights I leave them off so that the streetlamp starts to look like the moon and distant lights like the stars. I leave them off so that edges are softer, so when I brush against them, I’m less likely to bleed. Without them I don’t see the grills on my window- only the wide open sky. When I run my fingers over my face and look in the mirror, I look ethereal, fresh, alive. I leave them off so I don’t see disappointed glances or smiles marked “Fragile!”. People wear their hearts on their sleeves, but I prefer not to see. Through my imperfect eyes, flaws seem like a work of fiction. I throw them down, crush them beneath my heel. I will not see, I will not feel.