Broken
First and foremost, there is a very simple explanation for my lack of updates. I've sort of taken my writing elsewhere to a different medium and a different format. No, I have not transfered my blog over to Friendster or some other cheap knockoff. I just don't blog that often anymore.
Last night, I had a conversation with a friend. He was telling me about his life in Singapore, and remarking how it sounded like a stupid teen drama series, very much not unlike Laguna Beach, Orange County or Gossip Girls.
Yes, I know the names of these series because I got to have something to mock in my spare time.
I suppose part of me is filled with envy at my friend because despite all that he hates about living in Singapore, the fact of the matter is he is LIVING in Singapore. He's got friends, family and something going for him. Yes, dude, despite your problems with Google and doctors, you know, I kinda prefer your life over mine right now. That is if I had a life.
As I blink back a tear, I wonder what kind of cruel joke the cosmic universe just played on me. A while back, there was a thought in my head, more like a philosophy or belief, that I would prefer no other life like mine, because I have made the best possible decisions for myself, and I should live with no regrets. Yet now, I look over across the fence towards the yards of my neighbors, and I think to myself, "The grass is truly greener on the other side."
A person is always swamped with problems. I understand that not everyone has the same kind of problems as me, and that I would just be exchanging some problems for others. But that's not really the point here. The point is that my life has dipped into a spiraling low months ago, and has yet to come out of it.
I guess I should explain a bit more about my "life" before continuing on that thought. Right now, I think I've gone through my 23rd interview over the span of a year. Maybe I'm not getting it right, maybe I'm just a mediocre candidate. Either way, this was startlingly brought to light when my younger sister commented that I was unemployed for 6 months. Truth be told, I kinda question now my employability. Inherently, I am a flawed human being, with defects that I, myself, cannot understand or fix. I don't know what is wrong with me, and I don't know why I keep fucking up.
On addition to that, I'm merely living off the charity of my friends, and I have no idea what I'm going to do right now. I mean, I'm waiting for Morgan Stanley to call to let me know whether I've gotten an internship or not. And this is an internship. Meaning some low-paying, low-responsibility, we-might-hire-you-for-full-time-if-we-like-you, kind of a job. I don't mind a job like that, I don't care about pay or hours or responsibilities. The lady sort of told me that she thought I would feel bored at the job. No, lady, you wanna know what is boring? Sitting at home every day watching CNBC, waiting for a job offer. That's what's boring. I just want to work, and sometimes, I don't get it, the body is able, the mind is willing, but... what is lacking?
Right now I have only one thing going for me and that is my trading portfolio. It's kinda weird seeing how everything I've learnt go out the window, as I witness the futility of my education when dealing with speculators and interpreting news. I sort of tend to obsess about what I do, and I'm rather proud as to what I've achieved so far in terms of just doing a couple of simple trades in the past month and a half. After all, I'm still learning, and I've already made huge mistakes.
But I kinda watch my relationships around me fail miserably. I don't really want to talk to my friends out of shame, and sometimes when I talk, it sort of becomes a bitchfest about my lack of a job and my current status. And sometimes I realize that I'm kinda bad at it, that I don't really want to talk about it. And I really have that sharp deep pang in my heart and an abject misery every time my parents or my sisters corner me and ask me via long distance how goes my job hunt. I've turned to either ignoring them or mumbling some sort of excuse that I'm still looking, when in fact, I've resigned myself to the couch literally. Somehow they must have sense my annoyance and reluctance to talk to them that I think they sort of sensed it is a taboo subject, and if they want to shut down the conversation with me, all they have to do is hint at the idea of returning home and finding a job there. That line of conversation always drives this feeling into my heart that I want to pick up my computer, smash it across the room, and huddle in a corner and cry.
It has come to the point that my mom doesn't even dare to ask me how my job search is going that she's resorted to asking about other things in a strange bid to just talk to me. She's resorted to asking me things about my opinion on the stock market, or recently today, a girl I've never even thought of for a while. Stuff in a bid to get me to talk to her. I admit I am pretty much a prodigal son, I took a bunch of money, left, had a decadent lifestyle, and it is shameful to go home empty handed. And I don't even call home, because I've nothing good to call home about. No good news, no crap. I'm worried that the next phone call I make home would be just to say I've given up, and I'm coming home.
Many of you think it is no big deal. But trust me, it is a big deal. First of all, you got to realize that I've never actually gotten what I've wanted. Everything I've worked for since I was 16, everything I put all my effort into, I've always come out as second. Never first. I can run through a whole list of things, like not getting into the school I want, never getting the grades I want, never holding the right committee positions, never winning the competitions I've participated and never getting the girl I want. And trust me, I've struggled. I'm not where I am, and nothing I've ever done come close to where I want to be. And this is perhaps the final straw. That I can't even fucking work at a fucking decent firm who would sponsor a fucking visa for me. I just want this so badly that I feel cheated out of it. The universe merely only conspires to cheat me out of what I really want, Coelho.
I'm kinda ashamed to talk about it, and as many of you know or read, and I think it is only the closest of my friends who read this, you may be surprised to find how affected I am by this. I run and hide from this unemployment. I so badly want to work, and I feel like I've failed. And I don't really want to talk about it or deal with it, because somehow I'm hoping futilely that this problem will go away. And right now, I'm up in the middle of the night, screaming at my helplessness, and the encroaching feeling and the looming deadline, that perhaps I'm better off dead. I truly do not know how to deal with this, and I can't deal with platitudes or comforting lies. The only thing that can help me now is a job, but we all know how that's going.
The job thing is big. It's way big. It's the lynch pin in my life. I figured everything comes after getting a job, a place to rent, spiffier clothes and a girlfriend. Everything can only happen after I get a job, so my life is kinda trapped in limbo right now. In fact, I've been this way since I've graduated. I've been in this state of perpetual uncertainty and dread. The past six months have been a hellish repeat, and if you ever want to know what's it like to live a single day over and over again, I have to say it is the same feeling as living each day with uncertainty. Each day is the same to me, because I don't have a future. I have nothing on the horizon for me. I have nothing to expect, nothing to look forward to, and nothing to do. It is perpetual misery. Tomorrow, I'm going to send an email to the firm I'm waiting for a response from, and I already know the answer. No response is as good as a no. And I hate it when they do that. Because I would first appreciate a straight-up no, without the blatant lies about how I am a qualified candidate, but they decided to pursue other applicants.
This has become way too much of a pity-fest. And I'd hate you if you talk to me about anything I've written here. Call it a coward's way out. This is my way of telling you what's going on in my life without actually telling you. Seriously, no words of comfort, no asking me how am I feeling, and no patting me on the back and telling me it's going to be alright. Because if it's anything I've learnt during the last six months, nothing went right, and nothing will be right. I've already done enough lying to myself, at first blaming the whole thing on my visa, then on my lack of work experience then on my eccentric personality. I have enough blame on myself, and offering advice would only make things worse. Offering sympathy makes things worse. Offering empty words makes things worse.
So this is what's it like when you're lying back on your bed at night, just waiting to die?
Frank Sinatra sang the words, "If I can make it there, I can make it anywhere, New York, New York." Guess what, Franky? I can't make it here. So guess I can't make it anywhere. So where in the world can I make it then?
Last night, I had a conversation with a friend. He was telling me about his life in Singapore, and remarking how it sounded like a stupid teen drama series, very much not unlike Laguna Beach, Orange County or Gossip Girls.
Yes, I know the names of these series because I got to have something to mock in my spare time.
I suppose part of me is filled with envy at my friend because despite all that he hates about living in Singapore, the fact of the matter is he is LIVING in Singapore. He's got friends, family and something going for him. Yes, dude, despite your problems with Google and doctors, you know, I kinda prefer your life over mine right now. That is if I had a life.
As I blink back a tear, I wonder what kind of cruel joke the cosmic universe just played on me. A while back, there was a thought in my head, more like a philosophy or belief, that I would prefer no other life like mine, because I have made the best possible decisions for myself, and I should live with no regrets. Yet now, I look over across the fence towards the yards of my neighbors, and I think to myself, "The grass is truly greener on the other side."
A person is always swamped with problems. I understand that not everyone has the same kind of problems as me, and that I would just be exchanging some problems for others. But that's not really the point here. The point is that my life has dipped into a spiraling low months ago, and has yet to come out of it.
I guess I should explain a bit more about my "life" before continuing on that thought. Right now, I think I've gone through my 23rd interview over the span of a year. Maybe I'm not getting it right, maybe I'm just a mediocre candidate. Either way, this was startlingly brought to light when my younger sister commented that I was unemployed for 6 months. Truth be told, I kinda question now my employability. Inherently, I am a flawed human being, with defects that I, myself, cannot understand or fix. I don't know what is wrong with me, and I don't know why I keep fucking up.
On addition to that, I'm merely living off the charity of my friends, and I have no idea what I'm going to do right now. I mean, I'm waiting for Morgan Stanley to call to let me know whether I've gotten an internship or not. And this is an internship. Meaning some low-paying, low-responsibility, we-might-hire-you-for-full-time-if-we-like-you, kind of a job. I don't mind a job like that, I don't care about pay or hours or responsibilities. The lady sort of told me that she thought I would feel bored at the job. No, lady, you wanna know what is boring? Sitting at home every day watching CNBC, waiting for a job offer. That's what's boring. I just want to work, and sometimes, I don't get it, the body is able, the mind is willing, but... what is lacking?
Right now I have only one thing going for me and that is my trading portfolio. It's kinda weird seeing how everything I've learnt go out the window, as I witness the futility of my education when dealing with speculators and interpreting news. I sort of tend to obsess about what I do, and I'm rather proud as to what I've achieved so far in terms of just doing a couple of simple trades in the past month and a half. After all, I'm still learning, and I've already made huge mistakes.
But I kinda watch my relationships around me fail miserably. I don't really want to talk to my friends out of shame, and sometimes when I talk, it sort of becomes a bitchfest about my lack of a job and my current status. And sometimes I realize that I'm kinda bad at it, that I don't really want to talk about it. And I really have that sharp deep pang in my heart and an abject misery every time my parents or my sisters corner me and ask me via long distance how goes my job hunt. I've turned to either ignoring them or mumbling some sort of excuse that I'm still looking, when in fact, I've resigned myself to the couch literally. Somehow they must have sense my annoyance and reluctance to talk to them that I think they sort of sensed it is a taboo subject, and if they want to shut down the conversation with me, all they have to do is hint at the idea of returning home and finding a job there. That line of conversation always drives this feeling into my heart that I want to pick up my computer, smash it across the room, and huddle in a corner and cry.
It has come to the point that my mom doesn't even dare to ask me how my job search is going that she's resorted to asking about other things in a strange bid to just talk to me. She's resorted to asking me things about my opinion on the stock market, or recently today, a girl I've never even thought of for a while. Stuff in a bid to get me to talk to her. I admit I am pretty much a prodigal son, I took a bunch of money, left, had a decadent lifestyle, and it is shameful to go home empty handed. And I don't even call home, because I've nothing good to call home about. No good news, no crap. I'm worried that the next phone call I make home would be just to say I've given up, and I'm coming home.
Many of you think it is no big deal. But trust me, it is a big deal. First of all, you got to realize that I've never actually gotten what I've wanted. Everything I've worked for since I was 16, everything I put all my effort into, I've always come out as second. Never first. I can run through a whole list of things, like not getting into the school I want, never getting the grades I want, never holding the right committee positions, never winning the competitions I've participated and never getting the girl I want. And trust me, I've struggled. I'm not where I am, and nothing I've ever done come close to where I want to be. And this is perhaps the final straw. That I can't even fucking work at a fucking decent firm who would sponsor a fucking visa for me. I just want this so badly that I feel cheated out of it. The universe merely only conspires to cheat me out of what I really want, Coelho.
I'm kinda ashamed to talk about it, and as many of you know or read, and I think it is only the closest of my friends who read this, you may be surprised to find how affected I am by this. I run and hide from this unemployment. I so badly want to work, and I feel like I've failed. And I don't really want to talk about it or deal with it, because somehow I'm hoping futilely that this problem will go away. And right now, I'm up in the middle of the night, screaming at my helplessness, and the encroaching feeling and the looming deadline, that perhaps I'm better off dead. I truly do not know how to deal with this, and I can't deal with platitudes or comforting lies. The only thing that can help me now is a job, but we all know how that's going.
The job thing is big. It's way big. It's the lynch pin in my life. I figured everything comes after getting a job, a place to rent, spiffier clothes and a girlfriend. Everything can only happen after I get a job, so my life is kinda trapped in limbo right now. In fact, I've been this way since I've graduated. I've been in this state of perpetual uncertainty and dread. The past six months have been a hellish repeat, and if you ever want to know what's it like to live a single day over and over again, I have to say it is the same feeling as living each day with uncertainty. Each day is the same to me, because I don't have a future. I have nothing on the horizon for me. I have nothing to expect, nothing to look forward to, and nothing to do. It is perpetual misery. Tomorrow, I'm going to send an email to the firm I'm waiting for a response from, and I already know the answer. No response is as good as a no. And I hate it when they do that. Because I would first appreciate a straight-up no, without the blatant lies about how I am a qualified candidate, but they decided to pursue other applicants.
This has become way too much of a pity-fest. And I'd hate you if you talk to me about anything I've written here. Call it a coward's way out. This is my way of telling you what's going on in my life without actually telling you. Seriously, no words of comfort, no asking me how am I feeling, and no patting me on the back and telling me it's going to be alright. Because if it's anything I've learnt during the last six months, nothing went right, and nothing will be right. I've already done enough lying to myself, at first blaming the whole thing on my visa, then on my lack of work experience then on my eccentric personality. I have enough blame on myself, and offering advice would only make things worse. Offering sympathy makes things worse. Offering empty words makes things worse.
So this is what's it like when you're lying back on your bed at night, just waiting to die?
Frank Sinatra sang the words, "If I can make it there, I can make it anywhere, New York, New York." Guess what, Franky? I can't make it here. So guess I can't make it anywhere. So where in the world can I make it then?
