Have you ever woken up and been terribly, horribly, paralyzingly scared that the next time you wake up in 20 years or so, you'll be waking up to a life that just isn't what you imagined or hoped for it to be? All your hopes dashed. All your dreams shattered. All your plans falling through. All your days seeming gray and monotonous.
No? Just me?
Hmm.
-- Karin Novelia, Hoping This Will All Be Worth In The End.
The Degree of Damage Done
A friend of mine, upon seeing a kiddie ride, pointed out on how as kids we were so fascinated by things like Barney the Dinosaur. As we grew up those perceptions of ours changed. We began to see how ridiculously illogical those childhood figures were. And though there's something to be gained by that maturity of thought, there's also something that's inevitably lost; our sense of wonder and naivety towards what is, essentially, a pretty daunting world.
I've come to realize that I am generally a sad person. I wasn't always like this. I am particularly aware that there was a turning point in my life, that moment when I decided to do a complete 180 and grow up, perhaps a bit too fast. I can't exactly remember when. Like most inner paradigm shifts, I know that the change happened, I just wasn't fully aware that it was happening at the time.
Most of my life consisted of changes and me adapting to these changes. I got so used to coping with things on my own, so by the time my 'coming-of-age' moment happened, when my child-like innocence was shattered, I found myself horribly lost and alone. And unlike many instances (depicted many times over in movies, biographies, documentaries) where the 'protagonist' is guided by some mentor-like figure, I had no one to catch me, no one to fall back on.
As far as unstable goes, I'm pretty messed up. And I'm not trying to make myself sound like a victim. If anything, those lonesome struggles have taught me something important.
How fucked up a person is, isn't so much determined by all the bad things that happen to them. You're only as fucked up as you allow yourself to be and it's simply a matter of choice to how badly you let the the degree of damage become.
So yeah. This is me, trying to control the damage. This is me trying to experience the world with arms wide open -- like a little kid.
(That was a crappy conclusion. I'm sorry)
But thanks for reading.
-- Karin Novelia, Wanting to Go On Kiddie Rides Again
I've come to realize that I am generally a sad person. I wasn't always like this. I am particularly aware that there was a turning point in my life, that moment when I decided to do a complete 180 and grow up, perhaps a bit too fast. I can't exactly remember when. Like most inner paradigm shifts, I know that the change happened, I just wasn't fully aware that it was happening at the time.
Most of my life consisted of changes and me adapting to these changes. I got so used to coping with things on my own, so by the time my 'coming-of-age' moment happened, when my child-like innocence was shattered, I found myself horribly lost and alone. And unlike many instances (depicted many times over in movies, biographies, documentaries) where the 'protagonist' is guided by some mentor-like figure, I had no one to catch me, no one to fall back on.
As far as unstable goes, I'm pretty messed up. And I'm not trying to make myself sound like a victim. If anything, those lonesome struggles have taught me something important.
How fucked up a person is, isn't so much determined by all the bad things that happen to them. You're only as fucked up as you allow yourself to be and it's simply a matter of choice to how badly you let the the degree of damage become.
So yeah. This is me, trying to control the damage. This is me trying to experience the world with arms wide open -- like a little kid.
(That was a crappy conclusion. I'm sorry)
But thanks for reading.
-- Karin Novelia, Wanting to Go On Kiddie Rides Again
Life is a Funny Thing
When I say something is funny, I usually mean it in a sad, sarcastic way. Because sarcasm's the way I deal with things. And though a sharp tongue may not leave me with that many friends, you can't really fault me for being honest.
Life is also damn ironic. Anything pertaining to it, the questioning and the doubts, I usually share through this blog because well, nobody really cared to listen in real life. That's changed a bit though. Questioning life has become something of a daily routine (besides my daily affirmation of 'I'm a horrible person' but I'll get to that later) and it actually makes this blog a bit obselete.
I've found people who I can talk to, people who are willing to listen. And I've never been more grateful.
But, and perhaps this is a big one, we can't expect too much from anyone. We can't expect them to be always there for us, we can't expect them to always understand. The romantic in me would like to believe that, at least, there's one person among the 7 billion in the world who can always be there for me. You know, that person who's presumably *the one*. Even now, the appeal of that idea is dimming. It sucks, really. But it's true.
And in light of my recent stress (mid-years and all) I can't help but feel that something that's internally a part of me is changing drastically. And it's hell of a lot scary, to just watch this change happen, to know that the one thing you'd think would be constant in your life - your values, your beliefs and your dreams - are changing due not only circumstance, but possibly choice.
So yeah. There are some things I still can't fully say aloud, but then again I guess those are the things meant to be put on this blog. Here they are, a few things I find funny with (my) life:
1. It's funny when the moment you finally feel happy - genuinely, consistently happy - you just start expecting things to fall apart.
2. When so many bad things start happening, there's a point when it stops coming as a surprise, it stops to hurt and you kinda wanna laugh, cuz it's funny the way you're kinda 'used to it'.
3. It's really funny when you say something, thinking you're being subtle, thinking that the way you veil your words -- like reading aloud a poem -- would make someone understand only to end up hurting them. Then you realize, maybe that's really what you intended to do all along.
4. It's funny when, even though you've known someone for quite awhile, you suddenly *see* them as if you didn't properly see them for what they are. Something special.
5. There are those funny days when you wake up and think of someone. And the thought of that someone makes you realize, "Hey, I think I have feelings for you". Then you think, "This might get interesting". Then you think, "This will not end well".
6. It's a funny, almost surreal moment; that moment when you fall out of love with someone. Initially, you feel glad, relieved. "Glad I found a reason not to stick around for that trainwreck." And the next time you see the person, you feel fine. No expectations, no butterflies. Then, bam, you feel like you've lost something. You feel like you're missing out. You feel like you're giving up on something you never even gave the chance to happen.
7. It's funny - damn hilarious even - when you find yourself next to someone you think you've gotten all figured out only to realize (and to be even told by the person themself) you don't know that person at all. You're not as close as you'd imagine or want yourselves to be.
8. And it's really, really, really funny, the way you can be so comfortable around someone and the next moment wish they'd never even become part of your life. Because you want them around. Even though they make things complicated.
9. It's funny, in a dramatic irony sort of way, to see things that noone else apparently sees. To know things which are obviously there. To read people so easily. Because when things start happening, going exactly as you predicted they would, it becomes your own little inside joke. "See I was right, I saw this coming." But then you wish you were never right in the first place.
10. And it's tragically funny, the way you can put up such a strong front, a noble facade only to fall apart moments later. Moments like those are embarassing. It's as if you think no one will forget it, no one will look past it or see you the same way again. But then they do, and you wish they didn't. You wish you could stop pretending.
11. It's a funny moment in your life when you realize, even the person you're closest with the most will never be completely honest with you. Even when you try to open up and put your heart on the line (which, trust me, for me isn't easy) they turn to be the most unemotional person. Ever. And though the poison's in the well, you stick around anyway. Even though you wonder why you do, why you try so hard to have this person around. Even though you're also glad that your paths have somehow crossed.
12. Oh and here's the kicker, the ultimate punchline. It's funny when you know things aren't going to end well. When you know all you're going to get is hurt. But you don't back down, you don't turn around and run away, you don't try oh so very hard to just numb everything out.
You let things happen anyway. You let yourself get hurt.
Even though, most likely, you'll regret it, you undeniably know this one truth: despite the universe working against you, that small sliver of a chance at happiness is always worth taking.
Thanks for reading.
--Karin Novelia, Laughing at Life
Life is also damn ironic. Anything pertaining to it, the questioning and the doubts, I usually share through this blog because well, nobody really cared to listen in real life. That's changed a bit though. Questioning life has become something of a daily routine (besides my daily affirmation of 'I'm a horrible person' but I'll get to that later) and it actually makes this blog a bit obselete.
I've found people who I can talk to, people who are willing to listen. And I've never been more grateful.
But, and perhaps this is a big one, we can't expect too much from anyone. We can't expect them to be always there for us, we can't expect them to always understand. The romantic in me would like to believe that, at least, there's one person among the 7 billion in the world who can always be there for me. You know, that person who's presumably *the one*. Even now, the appeal of that idea is dimming. It sucks, really. But it's true.
And in light of my recent stress (mid-years and all) I can't help but feel that something that's internally a part of me is changing drastically. And it's hell of a lot scary, to just watch this change happen, to know that the one thing you'd think would be constant in your life - your values, your beliefs and your dreams - are changing due not only circumstance, but possibly choice.
So yeah. There are some things I still can't fully say aloud, but then again I guess those are the things meant to be put on this blog. Here they are, a few things I find funny with (my) life:
1. It's funny when the moment you finally feel happy - genuinely, consistently happy - you just start expecting things to fall apart.
2. When so many bad things start happening, there's a point when it stops coming as a surprise, it stops to hurt and you kinda wanna laugh, cuz it's funny the way you're kinda 'used to it'.
3. It's really funny when you say something, thinking you're being subtle, thinking that the way you veil your words -- like reading aloud a poem -- would make someone understand only to end up hurting them. Then you realize, maybe that's really what you intended to do all along.
4. It's funny when, even though you've known someone for quite awhile, you suddenly *see* them as if you didn't properly see them for what they are. Something special.
5. There are those funny days when you wake up and think of someone. And the thought of that someone makes you realize, "Hey, I think I have feelings for you". Then you think, "This might get interesting". Then you think, "This will not end well".
6. It's a funny, almost surreal moment; that moment when you fall out of love with someone. Initially, you feel glad, relieved. "Glad I found a reason not to stick around for that trainwreck." And the next time you see the person, you feel fine. No expectations, no butterflies. Then, bam, you feel like you've lost something. You feel like you're missing out. You feel like you're giving up on something you never even gave the chance to happen.
7. It's funny - damn hilarious even - when you find yourself next to someone you think you've gotten all figured out only to realize (and to be even told by the person themself) you don't know that person at all. You're not as close as you'd imagine or want yourselves to be.
8. And it's really, really, really funny, the way you can be so comfortable around someone and the next moment wish they'd never even become part of your life. Because you want them around. Even though they make things complicated.
9. It's funny, in a dramatic irony sort of way, to see things that noone else apparently sees. To know things which are obviously there. To read people so easily. Because when things start happening, going exactly as you predicted they would, it becomes your own little inside joke. "See I was right, I saw this coming." But then you wish you were never right in the first place.
10. And it's tragically funny, the way you can put up such a strong front, a noble facade only to fall apart moments later. Moments like those are embarassing. It's as if you think no one will forget it, no one will look past it or see you the same way again. But then they do, and you wish they didn't. You wish you could stop pretending.
11. It's a funny moment in your life when you realize, even the person you're closest with the most will never be completely honest with you. Even when you try to open up and put your heart on the line (which, trust me, for me isn't easy) they turn to be the most unemotional person. Ever. And though the poison's in the well, you stick around anyway. Even though you wonder why you do, why you try so hard to have this person around. Even though you're also glad that your paths have somehow crossed.
12. Oh and here's the kicker, the ultimate punchline. It's funny when you know things aren't going to end well. When you know all you're going to get is hurt. But you don't back down, you don't turn around and run away, you don't try oh so very hard to just numb everything out.
You let things happen anyway. You let yourself get hurt.
Even though, most likely, you'll regret it, you undeniably know this one truth: despite the universe working against you, that small sliver of a chance at happiness is always worth taking.
Thanks for reading.
--Karin Novelia, Laughing at Life
Hey, Soul Sister
I am not Karin Novelia.
I'm half of her soul.
We're two halves of the same spirit, stranded and lost in two different bodies.
My name is Maria Esterlita Siantoputri.
I am currently writing on Karin's page because she has naively let me. (evil laugh here)
(awkward silence)
...I am definitely not a blogger. I don't know what to say now.
So yeah.
I was here.
--Ester, Ruining The Quality of This Blog
I'm half of her soul.
We're two halves of the same spirit, stranded and lost in two different bodies.
My name is Maria Esterlita Siantoputri.
I am currently writing on Karin's page because she has naively let me. (evil laugh here)
(awkward silence)
...I am definitely not a blogger. I don't know what to say now.
So yeah.
I was here.
--Ester, Ruining The Quality of This Blog
Momentary Repose
It's been nearly two months since my last post. I hope you can understand that I've been busy. Uprooting your whole life and trying to settle down in someplace completely foreign takes up quite a bit of one's time. The post before this, about the Singapore Walk was a bit long overdue, but I left it lying around for too long that I lost the flow. It seems rushed and I hoped to make up for the atrocious quality with some photos, but since the internet's not really being friendly right now, I'll try to come back to that as soon as possible.
How has it gone so far? Well, I'd rather not go into details. It's been okay. Nothing's bad happened. But (if you read my blog) I'm sure you know that I've expressed this feeling of being stuck, of wanting to get back that spark again. That feeling's still there. Which sucks since I was expecting it to go away once I got to Singapore. I guess it has, to a certain extent, but not as much or as quick as I wanted to.
I have a really busy week ahead of me. I've got a bunch of CAs which are basically these tests and I've been going through such a mood swing, constantly oscillating between being completely lethargic to being painfully diligent, that I'm not sure how my grades will turn out. I actually spent last night staying up extremely late (about 3 in the morning) brushing up on my Maths (we're not on really good terms right now) and spent most of today feeling slightly motivated, but overall apathetic.
It's was nice to see how much I can get done when I feel driven and motivated but I guess I'm still feeling a bit lost with my whole sense of purpose.
Good news though, I'll be flying back home for a few days by the end of the week. So yeah. At least there's something to look forward to.
Let me just leave this little poem (?) I tweeted right here:
The scales have tipped
And the tide is rising
The winds of change are blowing
However, unfortunately,
I have no idea where they'll take me
--Karin Novelia, Coasting Somewhere in the Middle
Sauntering Through Singapore (Part 3)
20th of December, 2012
The banks of the river are lined with the towering skyscrapers, stacked masses of steel and concrete reaching up to touch the azure sky. The water is slightly murky, but clearer and definitely cleaner than the rivers back in Jakarta. My eyes are drawn to the black lampposts that are spaced at even intervals. Something about them seems regal, almost out of place as the old-fashioned design is laid against a background of urbanity. I instantly think of Victorian England, and perhaps there is something to that comparison. Singapore is the mini-London of South East Asia, perhaps with a touch of New York about it too.
The Singapore River Walk was incredibly reinvigorating. We started with classes but that soon passed quickly as our excitement mounted and our time of departure loomed closer. We headed out together, taking the MRT from Toa Payoh to the Raffles Place station.
We emerged to a street, posh and modern to the highest degree. Men in suits and ladies in heels walk along the sidewalk, looking professional and busy.
A few statues are scattered here and there.
There's one dedicated to Isaac Newton. A gaping hole can be seen in his head and chest, an artistic expression of 'open-mindedness' and 'open-heartedness', two qualities one requires to survive in today's world. Another is one of a large, non-proportional bird. It's supposed to signify optimism and serenity to propel Singapore's future development.
We walk a littler closer to the riverbed, leaving behind some renowned buildings such as the Maybank Office building and Raffles Point. Another point of the interest that catches my eye are the beautiful white bridges that span the width of the Singapore River. The Cavanaugh Bridge looks like something plucked out of the heart of London. The Anderson is more minimalist in design. A large bumboat passes underneath this bridge carrying a band of tourists with sunglasses on, cameras in hand. By the side of the bridges aforementioned, a sculpture of young children jumping into the river makes one reflect on those days gone by, when Singapore was a humble fishing village with a filthy river and stands as a reminder of the immense progress this country has made.
We encounter more statues on our scenic route, this time catching a glimpse of Singapore's diverse cultural history. There's a display of three people, standing and sitting round each other, engaged in a conversation. One of them is a foreigner, someone from the West; the other of Oriental descent; and the third, a man wearing a Peci, hailing from the lands of Malaysia.
We also took a look inside the Fullerton Hotel, one of Singapore's most elegant establishments. Christmas was just around the corner and so the lobby was decked with holly and merry devour. Again, something about the Hotel's architecture gave me a sense of colonial Britain while offering something modern to the senses as well.
We soon come across a statue of Sir Stamford Raffles, a prominent figure in Singapore's modern development. There were these men with snakes nearby, offering passersby a chance to be adventurous and take a photo with the large, scaly creatures. It was a chance I didn't pass up.
The highlight about of the trip was reaching the Marina Bay area, where the island's iconic Merlion is situated. Though it's a site I've previously visited there's something about the breeze, the sight of the water expanding towards the horizon, the close proximity of architectural feats such as the Marina Bay tower, the Arts and Sciences Museum, and the Esplanade that makes me feel like there's a whole world laid out in front of me, waiting to be explored.
The walk, as I've pointed out, acquainted me with Singapore's culture. It was appropriate then that our final destination was The Peranakan Museum. The term 'peranakan' refers to the new generation of Singapore, those who became the embodiment of different cultures, coming from a mix of different backgrounds and ancestry. We marveled at the antique items on display, each telling a story of tradition that collectively makes up Singapore.
Two hours were spent in that museum and to be honest they passed by in a flash. The idea of living in Singapore continued to grow on me. And if living her meant getting to see, learn and experience new things, then I just might like it here.
--Karin Novelia, Soaking in the Culture
We emerged to a street, posh and modern to the highest degree. Men in suits and ladies in heels walk along the sidewalk, looking professional and busy.
A few statues are scattered here and there.
There's one dedicated to Isaac Newton. A gaping hole can be seen in his head and chest, an artistic expression of 'open-mindedness' and 'open-heartedness', two qualities one requires to survive in today's world. Another is one of a large, non-proportional bird. It's supposed to signify optimism and serenity to propel Singapore's future development.
We walk a littler closer to the riverbed, leaving behind some renowned buildings such as the Maybank Office building and Raffles Point. Another point of the interest that catches my eye are the beautiful white bridges that span the width of the Singapore River. The Cavanaugh Bridge looks like something plucked out of the heart of London. The Anderson is more minimalist in design. A large bumboat passes underneath this bridge carrying a band of tourists with sunglasses on, cameras in hand. By the side of the bridges aforementioned, a sculpture of young children jumping into the river makes one reflect on those days gone by, when Singapore was a humble fishing village with a filthy river and stands as a reminder of the immense progress this country has made.
We encounter more statues on our scenic route, this time catching a glimpse of Singapore's diverse cultural history. There's a display of three people, standing and sitting round each other, engaged in a conversation. One of them is a foreigner, someone from the West; the other of Oriental descent; and the third, a man wearing a Peci, hailing from the lands of Malaysia.
We also took a look inside the Fullerton Hotel, one of Singapore's most elegant establishments. Christmas was just around the corner and so the lobby was decked with holly and merry devour. Again, something about the Hotel's architecture gave me a sense of colonial Britain while offering something modern to the senses as well.
We soon come across a statue of Sir Stamford Raffles, a prominent figure in Singapore's modern development. There were these men with snakes nearby, offering passersby a chance to be adventurous and take a photo with the large, scaly creatures. It was a chance I didn't pass up.
The highlight about of the trip was reaching the Marina Bay area, where the island's iconic Merlion is situated. Though it's a site I've previously visited there's something about the breeze, the sight of the water expanding towards the horizon, the close proximity of architectural feats such as the Marina Bay tower, the Arts and Sciences Museum, and the Esplanade that makes me feel like there's a whole world laid out in front of me, waiting to be explored.
The walk, as I've pointed out, acquainted me with Singapore's culture. It was appropriate then that our final destination was The Peranakan Museum. The term 'peranakan' refers to the new generation of Singapore, those who became the embodiment of different cultures, coming from a mix of different backgrounds and ancestry. We marveled at the antique items on display, each telling a story of tradition that collectively makes up Singapore.
Two hours were spent in that museum and to be honest they passed by in a flash. The idea of living in Singapore continued to grow on me. And if living her meant getting to see, learn and experience new things, then I just might like it here.
--Karin Novelia, Soaking in the Culture
Sauntering Through Singapore (Part 2)
6th of December, 2012
Whenever someone mentions India, I envision these crowded, smelly streets, the scent of curry pervading through the air. It's a limited picture, I know, but I caught a glimpse of it when we visited Little India today.
Unlike Chinatown, Little India was a part of Singapore I've yet to explore. The opportunity to acquaint myself with it made the experience all the more appealing.
We got through the first half of the day in class fairly quickly, going through coursework as usual. Once we were dismissed, we set off towards the bus stop in Toa Payoh Central and boarded the 56, headed towards Little India. It wasn't easy, cramming the 20 or so of us into the already packed bus, but we bucked up and tried our best to enjoy the ride.
From the bus stop we alighted, then we walked a little farther towards the MRT station underpass. There were rustic murals displayed here and there on the walls, and it certainly felt like a warm welcome to the district.
We exited the station and found ourselves in Tekka Market. The aforementioned smell of curry soon caught my nose, but not in the delicious scent when the dish is in front of you. It was a myriad of disparate smells that made up the dish's ingredients: the ginger, the coriander and other herbal names which I can't be bothered to recall or make up right now. The market also smelled faintly of fish. When we walked by the sidewalks of the wider streets later, the mixed smells of jasmine, roses and lilies would form a fragrant perfume, emanating from the stalls that sold these leis.
We had lunch together at the nearby food center. I had a go at Nasi Briyani, which was this yellowish-orange rice with a helping of curry drenched meat (I tried the mutton, absolutely delish). Once our stomachs were full, we trekked through the streets again on foot and found were shown this little villa, painted in a splash of eye-catching shades, embodying what Indians are like: colorful.
Just across the road from the Tekka Market Food Centre is a place called The Little India Arcade. It's like this small shopping mall that sells a various range of handmade crafts such as handbags, hanging lanterns, sandals and jewelry.
The Little India Arcade is also a good place to get Henna tattoos. The black ink (which comes in other colors too) sinks into the skin, forming a crusty layer that later peels off, revealing the semi-permanent pattern underneath (it lasts for at least week). The result resembles the surface of a cup of capuchino, only the colors are inverted -- smooth streaks of brown atop creamy, pale, froth-like skin.
We returned to the food centre to try some Indian cuisine, courtesy of our tour guide. We had some roti prata and teh tarik, the warm salty crunch of the bread and the sweet heat of the tea, making us feel comfortable in the middle of a torrential downpour of rain.
The final stop in our tour was the Sri Veeramakaliamman temple. The teachings of gods and goddesses, characteristic to the Indian culture, have always been something I saw interesting. Whether one believes in it or not is another matter, but the values behind the teachings are presented in such a way that is understandable, even enjoyable.
I've now ventured into two of Singapore's unique ethnic neighborhoods, Chinatown and Little India. Both trips have left me feeling cultured, not to mention grateful at being given the chance to even be where I am.
Next week, is the final chapter of this little series, and I'll finally see what Singapore itself has to offer as a whole, as we saunter through the banks of the Singapore River and pay a visit to the Peranakan Museum.
Until then!
--Karin Novelia,