2006
2006. It's been a really short year for me, and no surprise at that either.
It was a year of much self-discovery - who I am as an individual and as a man (much as I hate to admit it, I am getting older, and can no longer respectfully call myself a 'boy' any longer), as a student and potential educator, as a friend and partner.
As an individual, I discovered that I had many deep dark secrets that I've always kept to myself, and did not dare reveal them to anyone. And yet in 2006, I told one of them to Sarah, a dear friend of mine, and though I was silently hoping that revealing a secret would lift a tiny weight off my mind, this relief certainly did not arrive. Perhaps I have too many skeletons and corpses in my closet, or perhaps I still do not want to face it.
As a man, as mentioned above, I am getting older, despite my superhuman attempts to crack the problem of time travel without any superior knowledge of theoretical physics or advanced mathematics. And thus, in the coming year, I have to try and grow as a more well-rounded individual and as a man, whatever being a man means. Naturally, those who know me well enough know that I'm not one to subscribe to societal norms without thorough consideration, so it is very likely that the only changes I'll make with regards to growing into a man is well, my wardrobe. I can't survive on sneakers and tattered jeans throughout my post-graduate study, can I?
In terms of being a student, I've realized how much passion, interest and the professor mean in an academic setting. In every class that I've taken with a professor that I love, I've done well, often surpassing my own expectations. To me, the highest points in my academic life so far are hearing Dr Z in my Kant seminar remark that if my final paper was for a logic class, it'll be an automatic A+, with no questions asked; and scoring an A with Dr G, simply because I truly killed myself for that class, and I got more than I expected.
I've gone through periods of self-doubt as a student in 2006: I've thought to myself, I'm not cut out for philosophy. I just don't have what it takes to succeed in philosophy. Maybe I should just finish my Honours in Philosophy, then get another undergraduate degree in something "more practical," like Law, or Computer Engineering, and finally spend the next 40 years of my life working in some little cubicle, and be content with not making a difference in anyone's life. Yet the more I thought about it, the more that idea repelled me. How could I be content with such a life, while understanding the impact that my professors have made in my own life? (Nothing like self-doubt and subsequent reflections to clear the cobwebs in my head.)
As a friend... man, this is hard. When I found out that I may have alexithymia, I seriously reconsidered my role as a friend. Could I consistently call and consider myself a friend knowing that I could not really understand or acknowledge how I feel inside? Would it even be possible for me to say, "I know and understand what you're going through" to someone who's telling me about his/her troubles? In all honesty, I can say yes, I can. To me, being a friend is simple: you're there for someone who needs you, without any questions/comments/judgments; you listen when someone needs you to; you catch them when you know they're falling. Things like that. And I can honestly say that I've done all that to the best of my ability.
As a partner - I suppose 2006 was a chance for me to get to know and love myself (no pun intended, don't read anything into it). I've actually learnt to appreciate my own company even more, surprisingly. I've come to understand that I don't actually make a good partner. I'm rather indifferent to many things: the food on the table (even though I enjoy cooking good food); where I go with my other half (when I was seeing someone) - as long as I was with that someone, I couldn't care less where we went; what I wear/how I look etc. I don't speak much unless I'm debating with you over some issue (or philosophy), but I think I'm a darn good listener. I've also been told that I'm not a romantic person (odd, if you want to factor in the point that I write stories about person-to-person relationships and sad love poems), but hey, I admit that. I think flowers and chocolates and whatever else is nothing but cliched, although they are tried and tested and proven to work. I'd much rather appreciate the little things, like the curve of a smile, the little jump in a step, the crispness of a laugh, the closeness of sitting together etc.
And you, my reader, should have realized the same thing that I have: I'm a rather passive partner. I take true pleasure in the minutest of things, while delighting in being next to that someone. So yeah, I don't think I'm the best of partners. I'm just glad I'm not hard up to commit to a relationship.
That was 2006 for me.
And to the people in my life:
Sarah: Babe, you've been nothing but joy and pleasure. Sure, you've had your downs, but I've watched you stand up again. You're slowly becoming a woman, and a tres sophisticated one at that. Might I add that you're cute (almost as cute as a button) as well? Our friendship has developed to heights that I've not thought possible, and I'm thankful for that. I still don't know why you turn to me for answers all the time (I still maintain that I am not freakishly smart), but I'm glad that you do. I'm sorry that I've not been able to share in all your joy and happy moments, but I hope I was there when you needed me to be.
Glen: What can I say? You've been an awesome friend, despite you being preoccupied with other things in your life - and I'm glad those things are there. We've had the most retarded of conversations without either of us feeling self-conscious about being so stupid, and yet we've had some of the most thought-provoking conversations as well. I guess our individual caustic sense of humor complement each other far too well for our own wellbeing. I'm truly happy that you've found your other half, because you deserve it. No one as good a friend as yourself should be lonely.
Le Raine & Siew Ling: I'm glad that I've come to know both of you. Despite not having met face-to-face, you've displayed qualities that I adore, and shown concern for things and issues I hold dear. Thank you for your comments on my stories, and for the conversations that we've had. Le Raine, I hope the little snowfall was enough to sustain your wanderlust; Siew Ling, I hope that my stories have strengthened your belief in love and the human condition.
And finally, thank you for reading this long post. Happy New Year!
It was a year of much self-discovery - who I am as an individual and as a man (much as I hate to admit it, I am getting older, and can no longer respectfully call myself a 'boy' any longer), as a student and potential educator, as a friend and partner.
As an individual, I discovered that I had many deep dark secrets that I've always kept to myself, and did not dare reveal them to anyone. And yet in 2006, I told one of them to Sarah, a dear friend of mine, and though I was silently hoping that revealing a secret would lift a tiny weight off my mind, this relief certainly did not arrive. Perhaps I have too many skeletons and corpses in my closet, or perhaps I still do not want to face it.
As a man, as mentioned above, I am getting older, despite my superhuman attempts to crack the problem of time travel without any superior knowledge of theoretical physics or advanced mathematics. And thus, in the coming year, I have to try and grow as a more well-rounded individual and as a man, whatever being a man means. Naturally, those who know me well enough know that I'm not one to subscribe to societal norms without thorough consideration, so it is very likely that the only changes I'll make with regards to growing into a man is well, my wardrobe. I can't survive on sneakers and tattered jeans throughout my post-graduate study, can I?
In terms of being a student, I've realized how much passion, interest and the professor mean in an academic setting. In every class that I've taken with a professor that I love, I've done well, often surpassing my own expectations. To me, the highest points in my academic life so far are hearing Dr Z in my Kant seminar remark that if my final paper was for a logic class, it'll be an automatic A+, with no questions asked; and scoring an A with Dr G, simply because I truly killed myself for that class, and I got more than I expected.
I've gone through periods of self-doubt as a student in 2006: I've thought to myself, I'm not cut out for philosophy. I just don't have what it takes to succeed in philosophy. Maybe I should just finish my Honours in Philosophy, then get another undergraduate degree in something "more practical," like Law, or Computer Engineering, and finally spend the next 40 years of my life working in some little cubicle, and be content with not making a difference in anyone's life. Yet the more I thought about it, the more that idea repelled me. How could I be content with such a life, while understanding the impact that my professors have made in my own life? (Nothing like self-doubt and subsequent reflections to clear the cobwebs in my head.)
As a friend... man, this is hard. When I found out that I may have alexithymia, I seriously reconsidered my role as a friend. Could I consistently call and consider myself a friend knowing that I could not really understand or acknowledge how I feel inside? Would it even be possible for me to say, "I know and understand what you're going through" to someone who's telling me about his/her troubles? In all honesty, I can say yes, I can. To me, being a friend is simple: you're there for someone who needs you, without any questions/comments/judgments; you listen when someone needs you to; you catch them when you know they're falling. Things like that. And I can honestly say that I've done all that to the best of my ability.
As a partner - I suppose 2006 was a chance for me to get to know and love myself (no pun intended, don't read anything into it). I've actually learnt to appreciate my own company even more, surprisingly. I've come to understand that I don't actually make a good partner. I'm rather indifferent to many things: the food on the table (even though I enjoy cooking good food); where I go with my other half (when I was seeing someone) - as long as I was with that someone, I couldn't care less where we went; what I wear/how I look etc. I don't speak much unless I'm debating with you over some issue (or philosophy), but I think I'm a darn good listener. I've also been told that I'm not a romantic person (odd, if you want to factor in the point that I write stories about person-to-person relationships and sad love poems), but hey, I admit that. I think flowers and chocolates and whatever else is nothing but cliched, although they are tried and tested and proven to work. I'd much rather appreciate the little things, like the curve of a smile, the little jump in a step, the crispness of a laugh, the closeness of sitting together etc.
And you, my reader, should have realized the same thing that I have: I'm a rather passive partner. I take true pleasure in the minutest of things, while delighting in being next to that someone. So yeah, I don't think I'm the best of partners. I'm just glad I'm not hard up to commit to a relationship.
That was 2006 for me.
And to the people in my life:
Sarah: Babe, you've been nothing but joy and pleasure. Sure, you've had your downs, but I've watched you stand up again. You're slowly becoming a woman, and a tres sophisticated one at that. Might I add that you're cute (almost as cute as a button) as well? Our friendship has developed to heights that I've not thought possible, and I'm thankful for that. I still don't know why you turn to me for answers all the time (I still maintain that I am not freakishly smart), but I'm glad that you do. I'm sorry that I've not been able to share in all your joy and happy moments, but I hope I was there when you needed me to be.
Glen: What can I say? You've been an awesome friend, despite you being preoccupied with other things in your life - and I'm glad those things are there. We've had the most retarded of conversations without either of us feeling self-conscious about being so stupid, and yet we've had some of the most thought-provoking conversations as well. I guess our individual caustic sense of humor complement each other far too well for our own wellbeing. I'm truly happy that you've found your other half, because you deserve it. No one as good a friend as yourself should be lonely.
Le Raine & Siew Ling: I'm glad that I've come to know both of you. Despite not having met face-to-face, you've displayed qualities that I adore, and shown concern for things and issues I hold dear. Thank you for your comments on my stories, and for the conversations that we've had. Le Raine, I hope the little snowfall was enough to sustain your wanderlust; Siew Ling, I hope that my stories have strengthened your belief in love and the human condition.
And finally, thank you for reading this long post. Happy New Year!
NIGEL
1:23 AM
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