Do you believe in yourself?

Omaigawwwd I can't believe how much self-reflection I've been forced into over the past few days. Decisions. decisions that will affect my time in uni, why am I doing or not doing, why am I afraid.

And the MSoc elections too, the whole excitement about it, all my friends running for positions, made the clutter in my head clearer. What you do, how you do it, how people perceive you when they see you do it, boils down to pretty much how much you believe in yourself. 

Yeah you might not be the best and I'm not promising that believing in yourself would make you the best overnight but do you trust in yourself enough to commit to improving yourself? Or is such efforts something that 'other more ambitious people' put their minds to? is it "just not me"? 

Really? 

I won't go on preaching, I myself am a victim of pulling oneself down. I'm usually my worst critic. 

So I'll end with not my own words but those of Stephen and Sean Covey. It's more of a paraphrase than a direct quote but a powerful message they say is that the private victory comes before the public victory.

manifestos of me friends running for MSoc! 

A belated Remembrance Day post

 Marine Sergeant Frank Praytor feeds a 2-week-old kitten named Miss Hap after her mother had been killed during a mortar attack in Korea, 1953.

I know what it's like saving a 2-week old kitten. There were so many worries about how it would grow up, learn to eat, defecate, socialize. Then there's the nagging thought of why I was so stupid to do it in the first place. Considering that my parents would have to help me care for it, I wasn't in the position to simply bring home a kitten out of the blue.

Sgt Praytor was, more than I was, not in a position to do what he did. I never knew my love for cats would have had the effect of creating this humane link between myself and a soldier on the battleground years ago in the thick of the Cold War.

It made me realize how real these people are. That they're not just cold statistics we read of soldiers deployed, soldiers fallen, soldiers traumatized. They're real, full, vulnerable. Each a individual, some of which would have joined in to care for my kitten. 

How they survive from a war, maintain that sense of humanity, I can't imagine. May God bless the souls of the fallen and grant grace and peace to those still fighting.

How I Work

I fill up my time with things that make me happy. be it hours on end of singing with my banksiders in the music room. or painting my nails. or immersing in songs i love.

when my happiness meter is full, then do i work. it's my natural caffeine, happiness makes me go on for hours :)

Finally!!

You know that feeling that weighs you down if you keep putting something off?

I finally got to doing it. Checked spring insight opportunities. Booked flights to Spain.

At the expense of my time for math homework. but anyway...

I'm feeling the VICTORY!!!

Half way through writing my essay...

happily moving along with the words flowing out of my brain (finally!) and suddenly thinks...

am I actually answering the question?

On a more cheerful note

I found a place to be my silent stars in London! It's actually quite an open space but in a bustling city, people just don't quite care what you're doing so that creates the paradox of its hustle and bustle actually affording you some mental space.

The stars are probably not all real. some or most are probably satellites, considering the light pollution so common to big cities. some may actually be the aeroplanes from the airports around the area. but the lights are quiet at least. and they silently accompany me in arranging my thoughts amidst the clutter that accumulates in this heavy thing my neck carries around.

so... yeay!

f* this shit

I dont think I'm made to write essays. it takes ages for me to think of how to put my thoughts down into words.

"I am about it, but indeed my invention

Comes from my pate as birdlime does from frieze,

It plucks out brains and all. "

Iago, Othello

But unlike him, my Muse does not labor. gahh

how else would you explain the deepness of thought that man is capable of? especially if you consider philosophy.

yes, still recovering from the trauma

why I shy from philosophy

I'm scared. philosophy scares me. the capacity of our minds to come up with such theories of what morality is, what the reason to live is and then create all sorts of structures of society to enable such an idea to make sense. the controls or lack of it on society should these ideas be proven true. it's crazy. unrealistic, more often than not. why have it then?

they say that philosophers take the daring journey out of our comfort zones within the fur of the bunny and dangle dangerously on the edge of the bunny's hairs, staring right into the eyes of the creator. they say that philosophers climb out of the cave of shadows and enjoy the perfection in the real forms they see.

i don't agree. I think for every edge of hair that a philosopher climbs on to, they stare into the eyes of a different creator. i think that in climbing out of the cave, they inevitably end up in different worlds.

so what's the point?

every philosopher may differ greatly but they all share the same passion for truth. I find peace in the knowledge that I have access to the Truth. someone once said that religion is philosophical suicide. was it Camus? Marx? I don't want my belief to be a simple escape on what should be the most important question in my life. but the reluctance to embark on the journey is there. why did some of the saints explore philosophy when their answer was already given to them by their faith? how in the world did they survive that journey?

I'm on my first philosophy book and I'm already afraid. Afraid of what this will bring.

and this is not even a pure philosophy course