Archive | September, 2010

in the name of quarter life crisis

28 Sep

I really don’t understand why my creative juice always dries up when I need it, especially for writing. Blogging is really whenever I want to and whatever I want to write about (nothing really serious). It’s really more like an extremely public thinking-out-loud process. But when I’m really “forced” to write… of course after a well-intended volunteering for LKYSPPeak… I really don’t know where all the words are gone to.

But I feel like the trouble I’m going through is deeper. I’ve had a really hard time concentrating recently in anything, from studying to writing to working to yoga. I keep telling myself I have to concentrate, concentrate and concentrate (forcing myself again), my fingers are already typing (or just the alphabet f as it’s the first thing that pops up anyways) for the 84th time that day.

I think I’m just suffering from the lack of motivation in general, getting used to the routine of everyday that I have always lived for the past 18 years of schooling. I’m going through one of those of housewife (not literally… of course) crisis that Betty Friedan has excellently put as the “feminine mystique.” Of course I appreciate the fact that I’ve led a relatively comfortable, privileged life, thanks to my parents. Although I may not have everything, I have never experienced anything dramatically tragic in my life, like death in my family or of friends, extremely poverty, oppression of individual freedom, etc. But while everything is given, I’m having such a first world (that many people call “selfish,” a la _Eat, Pray, Love_) agony right now. I forgot (or don’t know at all) how to enjoy myself and how to love me. Again, it might be a selfish desire, but how can I love others (which I want to pursue for the rest of my life from personal life to the professional) without having a sufficient love and firm inner core of myself? I really don’t blame Julia Roberts… I mean Elizabeth Gilbert.

I’m still passionate about what I have been passionate about -I’m still the person who’s a vocal feminist, who enjoys good times with friends, who love shoes, and who cares about others. But I can’t help but thinking that I actually don’t know how to love myself and consistently pursue my passion, not because I’m kiasu but because I want to be the best person that I can become to complete the love that I understand and know of. Until I went to college, I tried my best so that I can please others as the brightest person that they expect me to be. In college, I don’t know how I even passed the 4 precious years without thinking these things. And now, going to grad school as a half-baked adult, I’m feeling like an ADHD 7-year-old who is going through a mid-life crisis of a 50-year-old.

I want to fall in love with something and go for it with all my passion whether that be writing or painting or work or dancing. But I don’t seem to be able to do that at all. And I get back to the writing that has been unorganized for the past 48 hours.

I only wish every 500-word writing is as easy as this verbal diarrhea.


finding my happy place

9 Sep

It’s been already, gosh, 5 weeks since school has started. The feeling that time has flown by while I can’t even name one significant thing that I’ve done really kills me. I could have written back to all the “hello” emails that some of my friends sent me, I could have been nicer to other people, I could have fallen madly in love (ok, this really isn’t me), I could have been… you know, a better person, a nicer person to myself. But here are some thoughts based on past couple of weeks.

So I made a lot of new friends. Yeah, new year, new people. Being an extrovert I am, I love making friends and learning about them. Or at least that’s how I have believed and how people perceive me. I have no doubt that I could have been overwhelming (my friend Matt said, “I would have loved to see how you weirded the Swiss people out” when I told him how much I like the new Swiss people at my school), but the point is, I really enjoy socializing.

But one thing I started to do recently is just observing people out of the circle, being a complete outsider for a minute. I would go to a bar with a bunch of people, and then I sit a bit away, and watch how people interact, how their expressions are like, and who they are with. I look a bit “out” of it when I do so, and someone usually comes to me and starts a conversation, saving me from the pathetic pariah position. But I guess they don’t know my intentions :).

I’m gonna be honest: it isn’t easy to do it, because of the person who I have been, to myself and to my friends. But it’s just a way of trying hard to become more comfortable with me just being me. The point is, I recently realized that I want to learn how to be alone or be around few people that I can just sit down and stare at my coffee cup without feeling weird at all. This thing, being alone and not feeling weird, hasn’t happened yet because I feel so insecure about being in silence with others. I heard that this is a typical “American” personality in social and negotiation situations. I unconsciously feel compelled to strike a chat  and be loud, trying too hard to continue a conversation that is going nowhere.

And one thing that confuses me is that I hate feeling alone whether I’m surrounded by a lot of people or I’m by myself. During my “bar experiments,” one thing I can’t stand is not the fact that people look at me I’m weird but the fact that I feel extremely lonely. The feeling that maybe this is not the place that I really belong to, although I pursue so hard to be a part of it. Just so many contradicting feelings I can’t help. I wanna be alone but I wanna be a part of it as well. What am I supposed to do?

The answer is of course, “deal with it.” There are so many of me that I don’t know about, and I’m still trying to figure it out. I wanna know what I love, what makes me happy, what I can do well, and what I can contribute to make my relationships with others worth it all.

And I thought I’d be able to figure this all out when I’m grown up. Now, here I am, standing in my mid-twenties, and I feel like a teenage emo queen who owns all the drama to herself.