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Sarah, 18, Singapore
(click the flower above for older entries)
Twitter: @sarahbananachan
Instagram: hisarahnademe
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Revelations #2
Thursday, March 20, 2014 || 8:54 AM
Thoughts about school
Sunday, March 16, 2014 || 11:14 PM
1. Jokes are being told every day - people are funny. The things that they say elicits laughter. The drill is pretty standard - someone says something funny; giggling ensues. I smile because that is what you are supposed to do; I laugh because you're cute and what you just said made me want to.
2. Strange faces are starting etch themselves on the surface of your brain - dammit, these strangers are becoming familiar. Who is that? I don't know your name but I know your face and the bag you carry and the way you laugh way too loudly. I don't know your story but I know what you had for lunch last week. The faces you see are the ones you run into every day; you notice a hair cut or a different hair style or the newly minted tired look on their face. You know them.... but not really. You want to say something but you hold back.
3. Today we had a good break. We laughed and swapped stories over tasteless meals. No one looked at the chipped edges of the yellow table because we were too busy looking at each other.
4. Today we had a not-so-good break. We used our phones and hid our faces because we had nothing to say to each other. No one ate - and I was the one who chipped off the edges of the yellow table.
5. Two words: Rat race. Do you feel it? I do. Then again, I have the propensity to feel such things too strongly. Have you done question 1 of worksheet 3? No, I haven't - you have? That makes me feel shitty and suffocated and anxious (and like a loser - let's not forget that). 12/15? She got 13. Why didn't I get 13? I could have - no, I should have. This transcends my capabilities, I start to think. Been there, done that.
6. We shouldn't care about such things.
7. We all care about such things.
8. 17 and 18 year olds are a bucket of hormones.
9. I don't feel like myself. I feel minimised, scaled down. Less filled with life; less filled with me.
9. I don't feel like myself. I feel minimised, scaled down. Less filled with life; less filled with me.
10. Often times I wish I could hit the restart button on Junior College life - I cannot help the niggling feeling in the depths of my stomach I'm doing it all wrong. For so long I've been wondering (and anticipating) these two years - God, when I was 13, these JC kids seemed so grown up. They looked so smart and old - old enough to wear their skirts as short as they liked; old enough to slip their hands through hands of boys they didn't know. When I was 15, I thought when I went to JC life would snap into place for me. I'd finally reach my full potential and achieve what I've been coveting since forever - all rounded-ness. I didn't think about the short skirts or the strange boys. Now I feel scared - I can't help but feel like I'm already off to a wrong start. Two years is a short time (ephemeral at it's finest).... I am just nervous I'll wreck it like I did so many other things. Now at 17, all I want from these two years is personal achievement. Success - for once at last.
Two good songs for six (and a half) fulfilling minutes
Saturday, March 8, 2014 || 9:21 PM
Throwback to when I was 15 and obsessed with Brendon Urie and this was my favourite song because I looooved hearing him say my name
(Just a song I can relate to exceedingly well right now. Damn)
Realisations
Tuesday, March 4, 2014 || 6:02 PM
This is a whole new ball game (wow @ the sports lingo, Sarah). I am usually too fond of slipping in and out of people's lives, pulling disappearing acts whenever I desire. Not to say I won't be there at a beck and call, but it is in my nature to hold the door open and let people go when they want to leave. For you... I set my ego aside (and shit you... you know I am a bucket of pride) and I tried to pull you back in. Stringing you back in once was a difficult thing for me to do; god damn your ephemeral feelings. Damn your fickle mind, or maybe it was never fickle - you were just bad at expressing your emotions. Well then, damn that. Once bitten twice shy - now that you've slipped away from within my grasp again, I'm not going to be the fool that reaches out a second time.
I've realised that the chase wasn't - no, isn't - worth the prize. Much like a game of tug and war, so what if I win if all I end up with is bloodied knees and bruised palms and the end of a fraying old rope? There is no need to be a victor when the victory proves to be only a pyrrhic one.
Regarding physical appearance:
Saturday, March 1, 2014 || 6:45 PM
Blood under her fingernails. She scratches distractedly all the time - bursting open her skin bag to reveal what lays underneath. She scratches when she is busy, or bored, or stressed. Blood spills out of her open wounds, blood - red, sticky, recognisable. The scars all over her legs are testament to this habit she has - fifty cent coins, her mother calls them. She does not do this on purpose, no - she simply finds comfort in scratching and picking her scabs; the edge of her fingernails drawn along the surface of her skin with an unmistakable rhythm. It never hurt, just felt good. She does not do this on purpose - the last thing she wants to do is hurt herself. Scratch, scratch, scratch - blood under her fingernails equals ugly skin equals ugly girl. She knew - no she knows - that. How unfortunate it was to have a habit that made you ugly.
He liked how dark, shiny surfaces reflect. That meant every dark, shiny surface he passed was another opportunity for him to look at himself. His pretty, pretty face - he never expected himself to have great fortunes in life because he had already struck the genetic jackpot. He felt he could not be lucky again because he got hit by his biggest windfall even before he had his first taste of life. He hated admitting this, but sometimes he marvelled at the contours of his face - how can two eyes, a nose and a mouth look so damn good when all pieced together? It made things so... easy. Cutting queues, getting girls, turning them down. Everyone was nice to him - except bitter girls who cruelly spat in his direction, "You don't know love, you only know yourself." When he heard that, he wondered if he was just nothing but a pretty face. It haunts him on nights he feels that is true.
Life updates #2
Thursday, February 27, 2014 || 11:34 PM
1) Trying reaaaally hard to get over it. I feel lame doing something so juvenile like deleting numbers off my phone... but hey. I'm good at taking hints - I'll leave you alone. Don't worry about it - I'll move on. I always do.
2) I've never had such violent thoughts about my phone. You know when you're sort of waiting for someone to text you and your phone buzzes (happy buzz sounds - I loveeee the feel of my phone buzzing. I feel like it is always potential for something exciting). Alas, it is some stupid message from someone else. URRHHRGHHHH. I want to throw my phone against the wall :(
3) My speech patterns have changed. I'm injecting a lot more singlish into my speech now... and if you are shocked, you should be. HAHA. If you are my friend from before JC please let's meet up so you can gape at how I talk like now
4) I know I am somewhat... enigmatic. I'm sorry but I was just never an open book and I'd like it to remain that way, okay?? Don't be an ass
5) School has been repetitive to say the least. I often wish I had the chance to restart. Life seemed so... promising back then. The whole "you'll nEVER KNOW" factor was a damn tease - but it was promising. Filled with hope. The unknown was exciting - now life is getting predictable. I can pretty much already form visions in my head on how my life is going to be like for the next two years (I don't like that. In my head, I don't look happy).
6) Dance is really fun but tiring - in a very good way. It leaves me drained but more energetic at the same time.
7) Nothing i'm writing these days is satisfying me... everything I write makes me frustrated and filled with second guesses. I need the easy fluidity I used to write with, these posts feel lacklustre
8) "They make me happy. I like them. But I want them out of my life forever." Words I uttered today. True: those bits of my life (your bits - I think you deserve the right to own them) are no longer part of anything I stand for but
9) As I am climbing up the ladder of my prophecies for myself, forgetting you proves to be easy. Hopefully I'll get further and further up the ladder - things are looking up :)
I know it's almost the end of February, but I'm hitting the refresh button
Sunday, February 23, 2014 || 11:00 AM
This post is a post I probably should have written a long time ago... but I guess I was distracted. For two months, I mildly lost track of my life - distracted by the new things constantly being thrown in my face. Everything was new! shiny! bright! it made me (temporarily) forget my goals. I became confused... deluded. Thrown off my curve. I've already broken several of my rules. For several months before I started school, I was enamored by the whole idea of being a "protagonist". No - I was obsessed. I was deeply convinced that if I retreated into my own shell - I would win (Win at what, exactly? I don't think I was ever sure - I just liked winning). I've already broken that bit - I'm not really sure who I am anymore. I always thought I was an introvert - but I find myself initiating small talk these days (I've realised that throughout my life, I've never had a problem finding a reasonably large group of friends. Is this normal for someone who is so uncomfortable around strangers? Idek).
I think it is time to lay down some new ground rules. The fact that I can just "rebrand" myself just drives me crazy - I love that. It's not often I am given these chances, so maybe I am panicking just a bit too much and I'm constantly terrified that I'm screwing it up and doing it all wrong. In this new environment, I feel like myself - only minimised. Myself - only smaller. The things that people used to identify me with they no longer do here. The "English/Literature" girl - well, I don't even take Lit anymore. That part of my life is gone forever, when I used to identify so strongly with it. That's great. I need a fresh start - a clean sheet of paper. I'm huge sucker for all things "clean", by clean I mean minimalist and empty and strong. Ever since I was little, I'd like to imagine myself with a wire sponge (the kind you use to really scrub burnt areas of pots and pans) and scrub my brain until it was squeaky clean. I never liked clutter. It made my brain hurt. (I think this stemmed from my love of perfection.)
so 2014
I think it's time to realise what I really, really want - and push to get those things. One day I could become my own self-fulfilled prophecy. No more burdens or being dragged around by chains; strapped down by heavy weights. No unnecessary attachments to people/things/places ... here's to my life that's ahead of me (you're not in it). I already have my resolutions all written down (since 31st Dec 2013 actually) and if I follow them staunchly everything should be A-OK (I already broke one of them but you can be damn sure it's not happening again). I think I'm not very good with balance - I like pushing things all the way to the extremes. But, hey - if it helps me achieve my goals, why not? I think maybe I overestimate myself. This is strength training, I insist. Is it though?
On an entirely different note: I'M HAVING SECOND THOUGHTS ABOUT LEAVING I KNEW THIS WOULD HAPPEN IF I WENT TO JC I KNEW IT I KNEW IT I KNEW IT AAAAARGH (stay strong Sarah remember your goals remember your future)
Attempts in convincing myself
Saturday, February 22, 2014 || 7:27 PM
I don't care I don't care I don't care I don't care I don't care I don't care I don't care I don't care I don't care I don't care I don't care I don't care I don't care I don't care I don't care I don't care I don't care I don't care OK maybe I kind of care but just wait a few days - a week, tops - I won't anymore because you are so not worth it
There is nothing I can say or do to convince another person you are nothing more than another person walking along a street, dressed inappropriately for the weather. You are not special
Maybe to someone else - but not me.
Getting you would be a pyrrhic victory - a complete waste of my time.
Getting you would be a pyrrhic victory - a complete waste of my time.
So bye. See you never.
Life updates
Wednesday, February 19, 2014 || 8:51 PM
#1. You are making me sad and annoyed with your stupid games and idk if you're doing this on purpose but.. bye:(:(:( I'm so over it. All the best in life, I don't care
#2. Break Your Little Heart by All Time Low is by far the best song to listen to when someone hurts you (try it). I just get so... empowered by it. Maybe in a bad/selfish way, but hey, at least I don't feel so shitty anymore
#3. I have been eating A LOT as compared to the previous week in my old school. I guess my body is settled and ready to devour, even if my heart/head isn't.
#4. I can't wait to get fit again... Nothing worse than feeling sluggish in your own body. I'm dragging around dead weight like it's strapped to my ankles. Bad bad BAD to feel like a prisoner in your own skin.
#5. Days have been busy but I can't wait to get busier and busier until I'm officially swamped. Not much of a fan of empty pockets of time... I am A-OK with struggling to breathe. Maybe I'm a sadist, but....
(I might regret ever saying this)
#6. The bus ride home is the most peaceful thing EVER. Why have I spent the last 16 years on trains??! Trains are sweaty and difficult and a general pain in the ass. I love that 154 is usually a double decker, the front seat of the second floor of the bus is my choice seat. Music + a window to gaze out of = peace
Something kind of bad happened
Sunday, February 16, 2014 || 11:48 AM
How can you chastise me for such a thing? Something so incredibly normal, so within the bounds of typical teenage behaviour. Something that probably ranks as #1 when people talk about the things they miss about their teenage days. Something so innocent, so painfully raw.
Why are you so angry? I cannot understand.
When you do that, it makes me feel like a total freak. It makes me feel like you punched a hole in my gut. Behave. But I am behaving! I always listen to you. Okay, maybe not always – but the important stuff, for sure. You talk to me in a tone that scrapes my insides and makes my stomach peel. You make me sound like I’ve committed sins beyond repair. I feel indignant and angry on my own behalf – for a moment I don’t believe your words.
I am good. I am obedient. I am dutiful. I never do bad things. Ever.
Then they – the words - come like punches, shell shocking me and leaving red marks across my face. Maybe I really do deserve this. I don’t know how you do it – but you always manage to brainwash me into thinking everything is my fault and I completely deserve all the bad things that have ever happened to me in my life. In front of you, I do not feel 17 – you have never made me feel 17. I feel 8 or 9 - small, weak and wearing too-big shoes I simply cannot fill.
I am not good. I am not obedient. Obedient girls do not behave this way. I am not dutiful. I always do bad things. Always.
I just can't finish what I started
Wednesday, February 12, 2014 || 6:33 AM
There's no room left here on my back / it was damaged long ago / and you said that you want to / but i'd still pick my friends over you
On questioning and not getting answers
Saturday, February 8, 2014 || 11:36 AM
How can anyone have so much faith in something? I envy you, for your ability to believe in something so strongly. For not questioning little things and pushing everything aside because several things are not what you believe them to be. For your unwavering belief that this is the way you were meant to turn out. I could never do that - I thought I was an independent thinker, that these uncomfortable statements were holding back my life. I don't think they are right, I thought. I've asked for a sign - show me and make me trust. Tell me that some things are wrong and some other things are okay. You never did - even after me asking You for years before finally giving up. I didn't want to be oppressed anymore. I think you are happier (although maybe more oblivious) than I am. Simple and happy? Or confused and complicated? I don't know if it's a decision I have a choice to make.
Missing my alma mater
Thursday, February 6, 2014 || 11:37 PM
I take everything back - missing Crescent was something I never programmed into my brain but oh god, do I miss Crescent. It's all fun and games until you are thrown into a strange place with strange people and everyone's talking way too fast and oh boy it's loud and they're looking at you but wait no they're not and what are you supposed to say this doesn't come naturally for a girl like you and-
You see? It makes me breathless. Tired, too.
I compare. I compare Crescent and this strange alien place - and it's easy to see who would win. Comfort vs awkward? Happy vs I-wanna-go-home? I've almost never felt discomfort in Crescent, and I am generally an awkward person. Roll on the floor? Change in class? Do cartwheels on the field just cause? Sit down in the middle of the parade square just because I feel like it?
I kept thinking about the genuine happiness I felt at Crescent at times. Maybe the unfamiliar faces are the ones kicking these feelings in the nuts, because I'd love to see some faces I can recognise within a heartbeat. Damn, I wish all of you were here. I wish all of you were here to make me laugh and feel comfortable and make me angry but be forgiven soon after. Make me feel anything that's not wanting to bury myself in a hole of discomfort and stiffness.
CNY recap.. and then some
Monday, February 3, 2014 || 9:50 PM
I don't know why but I kind of like the idea of being alone this upcoming school year. New friends - why? I already have friends. Plenty of friends. I don't need new ones. Maybe I am just being too empowered by myself - by my belief that I don't want any entanglements to drag me down (or keep me there). Maybe it's because I think the best kind of Sarah is an invisible one. Maybe it's because I don't. Nonetheless, it's only temporary anyway - more temporary for me than other people might think.
On a lighter note, Chinese New Year was:
1) Good. "Good" is a vague word, but that is what it was. I've always particularly enjoyed CNY because I celebrate it in Malaysia - and there's something about being "away" that makes everything better.
2) Filled with lots and lots of tangerines (my fav cny snack and my fav snack in general). Also junk food that was so bad for my system it made me feel super bad and will take me months to clear up.
3) Awkward. Nothing more awkward than a) sitting there watching other people discuss you b) pretending you are super happy to see people you're pretty sure you've never met but somehow are related to and c) your family commenting on your every physical aspect. "You've lost so much weight" "You've gained weight" "Your hair is so long" etcetcetc
4) Boring. No matter how you play your cards, chinese new year will always have some element of boredom in it. It's okay though, there are worse things than being bored.
Some stuff I thought of while burning candles during chinese new year
Saturday, February 1, 2014 || 11:56 PM
I really like smoke. Not the act of smoking, but smoke. Smoke from candles burning, from joss sticks burning, from cigarettes burning, from anything burning. I wonder if anyone smokes cigarettes because they like the feeling of smoke wafting out their mouths, their noses - watching smoke as it curls into the air and surrounds them, making them smell of it, that salty smell smoke always smells like. I hope you can understand this - because not many people do - but I think smoke looks like performance art sometimes. The way it wafts into the air, twirling and dancing around the winds. The way it moves reminds me of a dance, or of a paintbrush lightly brushing on a canvas. It looks so graceful (a bit like ballet, actually). Smoke is so wispy, and I've always loved all things wispy - feathers, clouds, the fur of an animal. When I think "wispy" I think "light" and "soft", and the idea that something like smoke can be so light it dances in the air that it disappears - it makes me want to be the same way. I hope when I die, I get cremated, so that I can dance around the winds and twirl and be beautiful and look like art and be light and feathery and free. Then I'll be gone.
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