Conversations

"What's the use of keeping these gems alive

 if not to gaze into the milky way,

 to search the corners of the honeycomb?"

About two weeks ago, I had a lovely conversation with Andrea as we were walking back home. As usual, we were discussing literature and CCA joys and woes. I was hit by an overwhelming sense of pride as we spoke about taking lit: how we would not have met each other and fellow lit fangirls like Sarah, Brenda, Min Ru, Swedha and how we could not imagine ourselves doing something like pure geog instead of lit.

It was an enlightening conversation, not that I did not know that from the start that lit was the stream I wanted to take, but rather, it crystallised the sense of belonging I have always wanted to have. It comforts me that in my last year at Cedar I can look back at the crucial points of CCA selection and streaming at the end of sec two and recognise that Drama and lit were there for me from the start. 

I tell people I take Bio/Lit and that I am (or was, but I refuse to admit I have graduated) from Drama, with great gusto. I feel like the Sealand woman sometimes, because I secretly view us as the "superior race", but I guess, at the end of the day, it was just the fact that I love what I do that gave rise to that mindset. 

I thank my lucky stars that I have these families and it scares me so to think that I came so close to giving in to UG life. As cheesy as it sounds, I feel like I fought to be in my CCA and I emerged so much stronger with passion to match the sea. 

It was incredibly liberating to finally see the blue sky after being trapped in the dark for so long and my eyes had gratitude glazed over them. It is a fact that I hope I never forget in times of fear: I love my life and I am grateful for the opportunity to enjoy it.

I had another eye-opening conversation with Zhen Hui about two days ago (now it just sounds like I do not talk to people on a regular basis). It all started with her asking me about whether or not we would be dead immediately if our bodies were sawed into half. It... sounds rather morbid, but it started a lengthy discussion about the supernatural and the unknown and for two hours we talked about everything under the sun, from our love for volunteer work to my primary school life. She told me she collects thoughts to reflect on at the end of the day, which is something I think everybody ought to do if they have not already been doing that. 

In some odd and obscure fashion, it reminded me of how my mother used to scold me for having big eyes when I was unable to look for something for her. "What's the point of having big eyes," she would nag, "if you can't see what's under your nose?" What is the point of having eyes if you can't see what life offers you? Are we no better than those are truly blind? Are we worse off for blinding ourselves in times of light?

Quentin Clark in Matthew Pearl's The Poe Shadow once told a slave driver: "This man has more freedom than you, Mr Slatter, for he knows what it is to not have it." There really are more candles for us to light than we think there are.  We all ought to give the human spirit and mind a little more credit. Life is not as frail as we think it is. 

I love having conversations. I simply love

airing my opinions 

listening to others vehemently stand for theirs

witty banters

comic timing

glib tongues

sharp ones

double entendres

or none at all.

Even speeches of silence.

They give you time to silently measure the person, by words or by the lack of, weigh each breath of speech offered and openly show the privacy of your thoughts. Silence tends to speak the loudest and the most, touches whisper and gazes ought to offer the galaxy.