Transcendence, Part 1

From the very start, this was a daunting post to write. How exactly do you sum up four years worth of memories, feelings, hardships, trials, reflections and discoveries? Would it really be possible for me to do justice to this one period of time and this one fascinating - and occassionally rather strange - place that has altered my life so drastically?

Some say that Singapore is one of the most mundane places in the world. And you’ll find that I won’t entirely disagree with that; it’s not exactly a very exciting city most of the time. However, I suppose that makes it even stranger that this supposedly boring country has had such a profound impact on not just my life, but (I believe) also the lives of many others.

I don’t know if this series of articles will do justice to the experiences that I’ve been blessed to have, and the people who have shared or created them with me. But I’m going to give it my very damned best. Transcendence is my attempt to catalogue the most important experiences and lessons of the past four years with a focus on the latter two, since Gliding Over All already covered the first half.

And, as with many good reads, this one starts with a story.

Colours

Words by Emerlyn Ng

All I remember of my encounter with the man at the crowded bus stop was a slight jostle- a quick touching of arms as I tried to shove myself past him and push my way into the bus. The air was hot, humid; I was running late for my dental appointment and the ache in my jaw had not subsided. The clouds were a dreary grey- the skies even more so- then again, when had my world not been painted in scales of black and white? A passing glance at the side mirror of the bus reveal two dark orbs floating in pools of white, high cheek bones accentuated by dark grey and a halo of black draped over my neck and shadowing the sides of my face. My face, glistening as beads of sweat run in rivulets due to the glare of the hot sun; ghostly against the backdrop of the blurring, throbbing crowd of ash.

Here's To Being Alive

What a horrible year.

I suppose it's inevitable that in one of the most crucial years (so we're told) in my life, and (again we're told) probably the most stressful, it would really be hard to ask for a decent year. And to be fair, I had warning signs way back from last year, both from observing my seniors and from the literally countless reminders from practically every tutor in the college. So I was able to mentally prepare, somewhat. All of that did not prepare me for what has been, without a doubt, likely the worst year of my short life thus far.

That being said: 2015 Junior College Year 2 students in Singapore, if you are reading this, congratulations! You've survived Term 3, the most dreaded of the four academic terms for every JC2 batch. It is the term that is almost literally workload after workload, revision after revision, time trial after another fucking time trial, exam after exam. The A-level exercise wheel spins and it spins hard, twenty-four-seven, with nary a break in between. Somehow, like soldiers dragging their bloody bodies across enemy lines, we've made it. Yes, there is the small matter of the A-levels inching ever so much closer, and there'll naturally be more cramming in the weeks ahead. But all that can wait for now.

At this point, I would like to celebrate just being alive.

Five Years! and our Year in Review: 2014

2014 has been an overall quiet year for Suburban KID, largely due to the increased busyness of the entire team. Gregory, Matthew and yours truly have entered colleges/universities, while Siangling is due to join very soon. This simply meant a much busier year for all of us, myself especially (given that I've entered college from the start of this year), and even less time than before to squeeze out time for articles.

We've been so busy, in fact, that we even forgot this site's anniversary, which was yesterday! Then again, it hasn't been the first time, so admittedly we may just be bad at dates in general. At the very least, I am.

To be honest, I'm slightly surprised that SK is alive and well after 5 years in existence. Many commercial websites don't even last that long, but here we are still posting, albeit less frequently than last year. I do hope that we can keep it this way, if for nothing else, then at least for all of you who have been faithfully following this blog (and there's quite a number, if our stats indicate anything).

For a mini celebration, we'd like to continue doing our Year in Review as we have done last year, and bring you a selection of our best works of the year. There's a smaller pool to choose from this time round, but in my opinion, no where less great.

Out Cold

"...Thank you, and goodnight!"

I lowered the mike for the final time as the booming dance music crossfaded in, increasing in volume with an echoing bass. Waving to the audience, some of whom were already preparing to take their leave, I strode offstage towards our right, where the rest of the technical crew were gathered and waiting.

She was there too, and I saw her first. The salmon pink dress and flower headband probably made her even more prominent, but I knew I didn't need those to find her. As our gazes met, she gave me a quiet, tired smile. As she had one of the busiest offstage jobs of the night, I wasn't surprised; in fact, part of me was exhausted too.

Singularity

I look at my my old pair of boots sitting in its little corner. Oh what a wonderful pair of boots, even though I could never tell what color it was.

It’s beige in color.

Yeah, whatever. I used to be blue-yellow color blind, so I just assumed it was some muddy mix of a yellowish-orangey light tan color.

Used to be color blind?

You know what I mean. Anyway, back to my boots. I used to loathe them when I was younger, since I felt like I lost my ability to walk properly with them on, not to mention blisters as well. The fact that I was required to wear them for military-related activities made me hate them even more. That feeling of having stiff material wrapped around my feet is not one I relate to comfort.

But  when I grew older I got used to them and wore them around whenever it was cold out. And now, in the state that I am in, I never thought that I would actually miss the way the boots hugged my feet, holding them tight and never letting go. I have only begun to realize the reassurance they provided, doing their job to protect my feet.

So does he hate the boots or does he like them? Hmph. Humans. So full of contradictions.

If only I could wear my boots again.

Just so you can hate them again?

Yeah.

Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night - Interstellar Review

At 9:30pm, I stumbled out of the cinema, having concluded a 3-hour journey in Interstellar's universe. I felt dazed, awestruck, and quite stunned. This is quite normal for me if the movie was good, or at least sufficiently thought-provoking.

It was when I was sitting quietly at a bench at 11:30pm, still dazed, still awestruck, still stunned, and with the movie's soul-tingling soundtrack still ringing in my head, did I fully accept that I had witnessed something quite spectacular.

Fermata

1. Fermata: a pause of unspecified length on a note or rest.

I looked up at the twin towers, gleaming spectacularly against the night sky, the most symbolic sight of my home country. My legs dangled over a small artificial creek as I perched on the railings of a bridge, a futile attempt to distance myself from the throngs of people that filled the vicinity.

8:00pm.