Addiction

It’s been 6 months since I first picked up the school’s floorball stick to play.

I remember how before everything started, I wanted to get into badminton so badly. Ever since kindergarten, I had become so passionate for badminton, but I never got the chance to play for a school. After so long, I thought I finally had the opportunity coming into AC. I was pretty confident. But I was also pretty wrong. I got rejected at the trials. I rushed to their training on a friday evening, panting while pleading the coach to let me in given my past training with a qualified coach. He nastily told me the team had no space to train any worse players, but he said he’d consider, with the condition that he won’t be focusing on me during training.

I was disappointed, so I trudged home with my hopes kinda shattered.

The same night, the ex-floorball vice captain Nicholas texted me, asking me if I was still interested in joining floorball because I missed the first day of the try-outs(I never planned to go anyways my friend forced me to sign up for it). At the end of the text from Nicholas that was full of contracted words and short forms, he added a smiley face. He invited me to go for the training the very next day on a saturday morning.

I was still pretty upset about badminton then, but since I didn’t have any other CCA I was planning to join, I decided to go for the floorball training the next day. 

It was pretty early in the morning, however I was quite excited to get into a new sport. I went in shy and quiet, with no one whom I recognized there. The training started off on a warm and friendly note as the J2s were surprisingly welcoming. I still remember when I first picked up the heavy training stick – it felt so uncomfortable and awkward to hold. Since I missed the first training, a J2, Shannon, had to teach me all the basics from a scratch while the other J1s were already nimbly dribbling back and forth. 

I had so much trouble getting my motion for passing and shooting right, and it was quite hard catching up with the rest initially. I felt like I had a lot of trouble moving with the pace of the drills. I slowly got the hang of it, and the sport actually started to feel pretty fun, feeling the ball on the blade of your stick and all. The main highlight of the training was that the J2s made you feel so welcome, it was like you were already part of the floorball family.

That was the main reason why I, and a lot of other current floorballers, were enticed to join the CCA. It was the warm spirit and welcoming voices that I experienced in floorball, and not once in badminton. I was in an actual team sport.

From that first day onwards we just kept improving. From the J1-only training on Founders’ Day, to the various friendlies we had with other JCs(21-0 river valley), to floorball camp during the March holidays and all. 

Then there was our memorable A div experience where we trained and improved at a crazy pace, where we humiliated HCJC 4-0 in the group stages in front of their very own huge group of supporters, and lost to MJC 0-8 in the semi-finals in front of our own supporters. In such a small period of time, there came the end of our journey with the J2s, on the day of our very last A div match which we lost 1-4 to VJC in the 3rd/4th placing to end off an incredibly emotional season of victory and loss. 

That was the peak of our improvement. With such limited time and space to train after A div, it has been hard finding the opportunity to improve myself. However from the end of A div to now, it has been amazingly eventful as well, from being nominated captain of the team, to organizing our own friendlies with other schools, and trying out for trials for floorball clubs. 

Last saturday, the current best player on the team, Jordan, invited me and two other top players to go and try out for the trials for Blacks, a Singapore Floorball League team who has teams competing in Divisions 2 and 5(Div 1 is the top and 5 is the bottom). We somehow established that the four of us were the top players of the team as well as the most passionate, and so Jordan decided to invite us to try out for a floorball club(which he had been training with for some time) and improve ourselves.

Initially, I was quite scared and reluctant to go for it. Because I felt extremely intimidated by the fact that I would be competing against the stronger players in the country for a spot in Blacks, given that the ex-AC Floorball captain from 2 years ago, Ivan, was training with the club in division 2.

The other two backed out, but I felt the obligation and thrill to try out for it for a new experience, even though I was extremely scared I would be considered subpar. So I decided to go for it Jordan. When I arrived, I saw various kinds of floorballers, from university students to middle aged working class men to Swedish players; they were all older than me, other than a few RJ floorballers who were clearly strong players(raffles were champs for A div). It was extremely frightening before it even started.

But it was quite surprising because as the trials went on, we found out that we were on par with majority of the players there. It ended off on a really good note with me getting to exchange numbers with the RJ vice capts and making friends. Ivan remarked at our surprising improvement from when he last saw us train a few months ago, and it was so pleasing to hear. Seriously looking forward to next week’s training.

With so much that has happened in such a short span of a few months, it’s quite amazing to see so much improvement in myself, as well as such a passion for floorball, a sport which I never once considered joining 6 months back. From being uncomfortable with simple passing then, to being able to play with RJ floorballers who have played since sec 1 now is incredible. I still feel so hungry to improve, and eager to know what will become of my team and I for A div next year. 

For these entire 6 months, not once have I regretted not joining badminton, and not once have I looked back after joining floorball. It has been nothing short of joy with this new sport that I have come to love so much, accompanied with the team’s warmth and acceptance which I can so readily embrace every training.

It’s a wonderful feeling, to know that there’s so much potential in you ready to boom, and this feeling is one that I have never felt with badminton which I have long left behind. Floorball has changed me so much. The game has sucked me in and has become my addiction, and I can confidently say that it will continue to be my source of joy for years to come.

When it all stops

I’ve always wondered what would happen to us when we die

It bothers me that whatever that I’m feeling now won’t be what I’ll be feeling when I face… death. It’s the loss of ability to sense and interact with tangible things that distinguishes between being alive and being dead, which is one thing for sure.

However what would happen to… Our thoughts? Our emotions? And all the memories we preserved in our minds while we were alive? Do they just disappear, for they are impalpable?

Do people who die just stop… feeling? 

In a Starcraft book I read(and thoroughly enjoyed reading), the preserver who faced death in battle had her spirit bottled in a crystal, where she was still able to communicate with the living in death.

But in this world we lack this isthmus; a receptable that stores these notions and after death, communicates feelings to the living world.

So it’s like thoughts and feelings and memories that once existed will cease to exist and never exist again.

I’ve always had a tendency to store pretty instances of life in my phone and look back to them later, snickering at joyful times or smiling at emotional messages immortalized in my gallery. 

When I view them time and time again, it’s that affectionate emotional connection that triggers within your heart which completes these experiences, fulfilling them with human sentiment and reminiscence.

Because I feel with the absence of human sentiment and relation, these instances are just experiences immortalized but with zero value because no one else will ever be able to appreciate these moments again.

It’s a pitiful thought, coming to realise that golden moments in life will be lost from the realm with one’s passing.

We have to treasure the appreciable instances in our lives we choose to immortalize, be it in our minds or in our phone galleries, and shower them with an abundance of love and delight, for there is a time that will come; when we face death; the stoppage of feelings, the dissipitation of memories and experiences, and the fading of sentiment, where these instances will simply be lost to the continuity of the world.

We love and keep loving, because that helps us live through all these precious moments with passion and emotion.

The day we start dying is the day we stop feeling.

thank you for helping me understand this

breathless

When you know you’re doing things wrong, all it takes is for someone to point it out for you to really start to realize it and it makes you feel the worst.

I’m not doing things right.

I was never a people person. Or at least when I seemed to be, it was probably just a false front. I don’t always say the right things the right way, and sometimes I’m at a loss of what to say at all.

I really don’t know what to do now. I feel like I’m facing the same crisis in secondary school where I just waste a lot of time trying to rediscover and reinvent myself. It’s when you start to feel uncomfortable around your social circle that you feel left out, and unloved, and alone. I feel like I’m dying in studies and in its relentless pressure. I have no strength, and no desire to find strength.

I feel burnt out and useless.

And all alone.

I want to cry.

 

Fantasia

In Mrs Warren’s Profession, we study realism and the concept of idealism. The play doesn’t exactly have a great ending. In the second act, it pleasantly describes a scene of the loving reconciliation of a mother and daughter. In the next few acts, they destroy this relationship with secrets revealed and habits unveiled, and everything comes crashing down. The lit worksheet defines realism as attempts to present everyday things naturally or to render accurately the world around, however unpleasant, without romanticizing or stylizing them, and that it is not concerned with the supernatural or the ideal.

We all wish things in our lives were ideal, or at least close to it. I wish it, but realism exists with all its sinful explicitness and unhappiness. I want to cuddle in fantasy’s arms and rid myself of all that is true and happening. Realism exists. And I really can’t stand it sometimes.

I really don’t want to believe that studies matter. I really don’t want to believe that I’m growing up. I really don’t want to believe in all the distasteful qualities that people have and conceal with an exuberant front. I’d like to think that things always go my way. But realism hurts like an spear impaled on a breathing heart, consciously having the things you believe seem beautiful being broken down into their most simple and ugly pieces.

But I do want to fight against it. I want to battle against realism with a burning spirit that tells me to fight to make all of the beauty and wonderment I fantasize of come true. I want to wake up and be alive in this world. Then I can fight for my ideal and crush bitter realism for the manifestation of my utopia, embracing the positive vibes, friendships, and love that come along with it, and then carefully guide myself through an exhaustive quest for precious happiness.

“Don’t ask what the world needs, ask what makes you come alive, and go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.”

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shulin wrote me a card

It’s so late

back at it again… with the routinely after-homework hour.

It’s 3.13am, I just finished doing my physics homework. I took like 7 hours for homework that could have been done in 3 hours. At least I finished it(almost).

Anyways, I was scrolling through instagram again on my phone, looking at posts of beautiful pictures and posts of beautiful people. And then I saw this really special picture with an amazing caption about this girl preparing for her upcoming Adiv tennis matches which really made my day(it’s kind of awkward saying something made your day when it’s 3 and you’re gonna sleep soon but that’s besides the point), and I’m sure it has moved several other people as well.

“Somewhere behind the athlete you’ve become and the hours of practice and the coaches who have pushed you, is a little girl who fell in love with the game and never looked back. Play for her,” the caption reads.

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she’s really pretty too

I trust that I honestly felt a compelling sense of passion, manifested into such a simple instagram picture, and really, it brought so much warmth to my heart. While we are so caught up in doing things, let’s always remind ourselves why we started doing them in the first place. Let’s look back to the roots of our ambitions, rekindle that passion in its initial, most untainted form, and translate it into undying vigour. Not to succeed, but to live life with fervour and gusto.

I read this book about a critique on the invention of time, and to quote,

“There was always a quest for more minutes, more hours, faster progress to accomplish more in each day. The simple joy of living between sunrises was gone.

Everything man does today to be efficient, to fill the hour? It does not satisfy. It only makes him hungry to do more. Man wants to own his existence. But no one owns time.

There’s a reason God limits our days. To make each one precious.”

Maybe, even if just for a moment, we took the competitive element out of sports, out of studies, heck, out of life, we would become happy.  And if we stopped time at that very precious moment, we may just be able to really relish the feeling of genuine fulfillment of being alive, and bathe in the purity and the innocence of existence.

 

 

Inspired

This is Vig and Kumar, #33 and #34, twins, skilled floorballers, humble and disciplined, natural leaders, and only 20 years old.

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the two donning Singapore’s jersey

It’s hard to come by such awe-inspiring people, motivated and passionate. These are people of true stature. Artlessly, they emanate an aura that moves those around them. At such a young age, they have come to master the game, having played alongside the best floorballers in Singapore for the Floorball SEA games 2015, a huge stage that flaunts profession and talent of the people we can only wish to emulate. Even so, they remain humble and down-to-earth. They do not have the ‘elitist’ mindset; they do not exclude or forget those who have played alongside them, nor do they neglect their Alma mater and juniors. They constantly interact with those younger and more inexperienced than them, advising them on how to improve themselves while being warm, friendly, and amiable confidants, having remarkable social astuteness that extends far beyond their tender age.

This is the finest form of leadership, and it truly is an honour to be associated with them. Modest, talented, and born leaders, they are a stunning reflection of near-perfection.

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you only have to talk to either of them once to know it

 

cringe

You know those days when you finish your work and just browse about social media, unwilling to pack your stuff for school tomorrow because of your disgusting habit of procrastination? suddenly, while you are stalking your crush, your eyecandy, someone you hate, someone you envy, you see something, some post or some picture of some sort, and it triggers you. so you just sit in a daze, thinking about your own flaws and insecurities, and by the time you’ve come to your senses it’s already 1.34am in the morning.

yeah that just happened to me so I happened to get some motivation to start writing and keep this thing active.

anyways there’s this mental tumour that has been bugging me. I have been wanting to write it out for the past week or so but I’ve been really tired and mentally blocked. Sometimes you just feel useless. I’m sure everyone has felt it; that lowest point in your day, or in your week, where you feel completely unable to do things others are doing, or you feel ugly, or you feel incomplete, or demoralized, or not good enough for someone you want to develop your friendship with. Basically you just start to feel suckish. 

You scroll through social media, the lame excuse of a platform to socialize, seeing pictures of your friends accomplishing things, taking nice pictures, having fruitful times, meeting up with friends and joyous occasions, yea such beautiful pictures… then you take a look at yourself and feel like an anti-social introverted couch potato. You click on profiles of other people you don’t know, staring at their amusing dps, wondering who in the world helps them take such captivating pictures, they have bios that speak of their devout faith to christianity, praising god, flaunting their academic transitions to top JCs… then you look at your own and you feel unaccomplished as shit.

I haven’t felt so pessimistic and shitty in a long time, the last time was probably before Os with davina. I guess the shittiness all comes about with infatuations and love and stuff, which I also guess is what helps me write and complain so much. I really hate it when I devote my writing to complain about stuff like this, but then again it’s pretty much the only thing that helps me write more in depth than usual.

Meh

 

 

 

olé to you

So my parents just got me a new computer, an ASUS notebook, and I’m super happy about it. Makes it so much more convenient to do a lot more things. super thankful.

So recently I looked through my google drive for PW, and I happened to see all the pictures I kept in there from my old phone, and many were pictures… related to Davina.

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the sunflower

like this one..

Makes me feel nostalgic and reminiscent about it all. I miss all her sweetness.

Anyways, tomorrow I’m going to go to school to study in the morning to the afternoon, and then gym after. Not too sure how my first gym experience will be, but I gotta start somewhere.

Feels good to have the motivation to be productive which has been lacking for like ages. Hope terms will be kind to me so I can keep that captain position. 2 weeks left.

“Centuries ago in the deserts of North Africa, people used to gather for these moonlight dances of sacred dance and music that would go on for hours and hours, until dawn.They were always magnificent, because the dancers were professionals and they were terrific, right? But every once in a while, very rarely, something would happen, and one of these performers would actually become transcendent. And I know you know what I’m talking about, because I know you’ve all seen, at some point in your life, a performance like this. It was like time would stop, and the dancer would sort of step through some kind of portal and he wasn’t doing anything different than he had ever done, 1,000 nights before, but everything would align. And all of a sudden, he would no longer appear to be merely human. He would be lit from within, and lit from below and all lit up on fire with divinity.

And when this happened, back then, people knew it for what it was, you know, they called it by its name. They would put their hands together and they would start to chant, “Allah, Allah, Allah, God, God, God.”That’s God, you know. Curious historical footnote: when the Moors invaded southern Spain, they took this custom with them and the pronunciation changed over the centuries from “Allah, Allah, Allah,” to “Olé, olé, olé,” which you still hear in bullfights and in flamenco dances. In Spain, when a performer has done something impossible and magic, “Allah, olé, olé, Allah, magnificent, bravo,” incomprehensible, there it is — a glimpse of God. Which is great, because we need that.

But, the tricky bit comes the next morning, for the dancer himself, when he wakes up and discovers that it’s Tuesday at 11 a.m., and he’s no longer a glimpse of God. He’s just an aging mortal with really bad knees, and maybe he’s never going to ascend to that height again. And maybe nobody will ever chant God’s name again as he spins, and what is he then to do with the rest of his life? This is hard. This is one of the most painful reconciliations to make in a creative life. But maybe it doesn’t have to be quite so full of anguish if you never happened to believe, in the first place, that the most extraordinary aspects of your being came from you. But maybe if you just believed that they were on loan to you from some unimaginable source for some exquisite portion of your life to be passed along when you’re finished, with somebody else. And, you know, if we think about it this way, it starts to change everything.

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“And what I have to sort of keep telling myself when I get really psyched out about that is don’t be afraid. Don’t be daunted. Just do your job. Continue to show up for your piece of it, whatever that might be. If your job is to dance, do your dance. If the divine, cockeyed genius assigned to your case decides to let some sort of wonderment be glimpsed, for just one moment through your efforts, then “Olé!” And if not, do your dance anyhow. And “Olé!” to you, nonetheless. I believe this and I feel that we must teach it. “Olé!” to you, nonetheless, just for having the sheer human love and stubbornness to keep showing up.”

Captaincy

Today, we had our first training after Adivs had ended. It was about a 2 week break, and I didn’t maintain my fitness at all during the entire period. Needless to say, I felt faint and weak during training and got exhausted really easily. But that’s not the main point uh. Mr Yeo had decided that today would be the day to nominate the floorball exco.

I always wanted to become the captain. Ever since I got a simple post as a logistics head(disregarding staff sgt rank) in NCC, I became uncontempt with not being able to test my leadership and responsibility. I wanted to become a platoon commander. I wanted a position that allowed me to stretch my capabilities. But I never had a chance. It was awful, being disregarded and mocked as just a room cleaner by the people who actually got those positions. I felt that I deserved the positions more than them.

That dissatisfaction transformed into a provoking urge to strive for the top position. I told my floorball mates I wanted to be captain. I gave it my all every training. I tried to motivate the team every chance I got. I never gave up trying to give my best. I really did. The hunger manifested into a confident and stronger self than before. I tried to be humble and never mocked my teammates who weren’t in the team, interacting with them, trying to be inclusive. It sounds pleasant and all, but amidst it all, I forgot to ask myself if I was actually capable of being a captain.

Yes, it ended up in a vote between the J1s that got me elected as the captain of floorball. I wasn’t shocked. My closer teammates said they would vote for me. I was happy, but not overjoyed. With all respect for my teammates, I expected it. But I felt quite conflicted. When Mr Yeo revealed the captain, it abruptly dawned on me that I may not be fit for the role, even though I had wanted it so much. It was because I didn’t give it my all during the training session and used my surgery as an excused to sit out during drills halfway. It was because I felt so ill-disciplined to have gamed since holidays had started and didn’t actually do any homework or conditioning. I’ve always seen myself as an irresponsible and ill-disciplined child who has never been the most hardworking student in class. As soon as I got the position, I didn’t know what to do. I felt the heavy burden of being as charismatic as Joshua, as inspiring as Kumar and as diligent as Ivan on my shoulders. What do I even have to offer as a captain?

Mr Yeo told me, “For the past few years every captain has had their unique traits lah. You may not need to be as outspoken as Joshua, but I’m sure you have something to offer yourself ah. I’m quite confident in you.”

It was then that I started to feel even more shaken. I was intimidated by his immediate expectation, afraid by his potential disappointment, and terrified of the failure I may become. I don’t know what I had to offer to the team. I still feel that the only reason I got the role was because I was closer to the majority of my teammates, not because I was more capable than the rest. I don’t feel like I am a clear-cut-must-be captain, and I don’t feel like I was someone whom other people see and think, “This guy looks like a captain to me.” I was scared of the responsibility of being a role model and a ‘stand-out figure’ I have to bear, and the sacrifices I have to make. And being scared is definitely not what I would want my captain to be.

I have a lot to work on. After this is posted, I only look ahead. Let me use this as the motivation I always needed to stop making excuses for myself. I only improve myself, improve my game, and improve my life. I have a lot of things to look toward, and disappointment won’t be one, let’s go Kai

AC boleh~, AC boleh~, all the rest can go fly kite!

 

 

 

First Day

It was a pretty warm welcome into the ACSian family.

The OGLs were enthusiastic and approachable and my OG had pretty friendly people who were really eager to converse. We did cheers, bonding activities and learnt steps to a mass dance. Usual things that an orientation would include I guess.

The highlight was at night when I went for a play by the ACSian theater together with a few other girls. One of the girls was extremely passionate about drama and literature, and it was nice to be able to get to know her. She was really enthusiastic about the play, and I can confidently say she wasn’t disappointed at all. The play was fabulously humourous.

I’m excited to look towards all that’s ahead.