In Continuum.

I think I have been living in an environment whereby race hasn't been a pressing issue for too long. I recently wrote a paper about race and multiculturalism for my American Pluralism class, and that reflection paper really got me thinking about the state of race, or racism, in Singapore. Since my paper was mainly based around multiculturalism in my country, I discussed issues on the efforts that Singapore have engaged in in order to foster a racially harmonious society. With that said, though, I also talked about how there are subtle racism that is alive in Singapore even today, the way that the education system as well as the military seems to not provide equal opportunities to members of another race. I will not go into the details of that here in this entry, but let's just say that it is better to be a Chinese in Singapore than an Indian or a Malay in more ways than one. It is an inequality and a difference that will never be erased just because we set aside a day in the year to celebrate our diversity, or to feature members of every race in agenda-driven National Day music videos. Anyway, most of my friends are Chinese, and I suppose there is a certain level of comfort in knowing that you are in the majority, you know. Of course, that is not to say that the majority should, in any way, feel superior to the minorities in the country. I am just saying that being in the majority, the chances of your being discriminated against drops quite significantly. After all, not every country is like South Africa, where the color of your skin is more powerful than sheer numbers. I can never understand how the blacks in South Africa (the vast majority) can settle with being controlled by the white minority. They really only need to raise their eyebrows for the richer whites to be wiped out.

Anyway, I moved from Taiwan to Singapore when I was five years old, a change that was somewhat significant in terms of the people that I was with. Suddenly, I was thrown into a society with a lot of darker skinned people than myself, something that I've never experienced in my life back then. For some reason, though, I've never had a sense of hostility against these people around me, and I've never thought myself to be any different from these people save for our skin color and, sometimes, accent. I remember being in kindergarten back then, with a bunch of my classmates being either Malays or Indians, and I've never had a problem with that despite never knowing the concept of "racism". Perhaps that is the key to it all, not knowing the concept of "prejudice" and "discrimination" made me a child that looked upon all my peers as equals, you know. I don't remember my parents ever reinforcing the idea of racial equality in my head when I was much younger. It was something that came naturally, and I am thankful that my parents aren't some racist bigots who'd frown at my malay and indian friends if I brought them home. That is the kind of attitude you'd expect from common Singaporeans though, especially after living in a country with a variety of races for such a long time. I mean, we already live and work in such close proximity with members of another race, you'd expect a common understanding to rise out of this naturally. It's not like everybody of a certain race still retains their unique cultural practices after all. We've all kind of blended in more ways than one to form a culture than is a "Singaporean Culture" rather than a Chinese, Malay, or Indian one.

Yet, you'd be surprised to hear that some people, some Singaporeans to be exact, can still be extremely racist for some reason. I mean, racism isn't something that you hear a lot in Singapore, at least not from my experience. I have malay friends, and I have indian friends. Sure, the malays hang out with the malays, and the indians hang out with the indians a lot. However, that does not necessarily mean that the different groups have anything against each other for the most part, you know. That was the common assumption that I held for the most part, until I had a conversation with a friend yesterday regarding the topic of race, and I was just surprised at how faceless racism can be. By that, I mean it is impossible to tell who is racist and who is not by how they look like, you know. Racist people do not have a certain way that they look, and at such everybody can potentially be a racist until proven otherwise. I met this friend of mine over dinner yesterday by chance, and we were just talking about the people here in the United States when she started telling me about how terrified she is of black people, something that I couldn't help by pry into after she confessed her fears. You'd think that a Singaporean would be more educated about how irrational racism is, but apparently not in this person's case.

This friend of mine started telling me, in great lengths, about how she has issues with malays in Singapore as well as black people in the United States. She used the word "hate" when it comes to malays, and she started telling me about how they have an awful sense of fashion, and that their antics "disgust" her. She has been known to make very generalizing views about things, and she isn't exactly an abyss of vocabularies when it comes to choosing the right words. Yet, when you are using the word "hate" and a race in the same sentence, you should know that you are crossing the line. At any rate, her dislike for malays could very well be attributed to stereotypes, in which case is a mental compartmentalizing tool that has some truth in them sometimes. However, she started telling me about why she dislikes the black people, and that really threw me off at just how real and alive racism is. She started going on and on about how the black people has scary faces, and that they look menacing somehow (the word "menacing" wasn't what she used, but I am sure that word does not exist in her word bank). I started prying into this part of the conversation, and she continued to rationalize her arguments. Yet, the more she tried, the harder she fell flat on her face in front of my impeccable arguments.

She mentioned about how she'd purposely take a detour if she sees a black person walking towards her around school, just because some of them look scary to her. I argued that only the kind of black people that rushes at you in the middle of the night while you are alone along an empty stretch of road can be considered as scary, but she pretty much assumes all of them as being the kind of person trying to stab her for whatever reasons. She seems to have a thing against short and stubby black women especially, claiming them to be the scariest of them all. In terms of crimes, she said that the people that commit crimes are usually black people, and we can see that from the crimes section in The Spectrum, where the descriptions are always of someone with "dark skin". Seriously, though, that was probably one of the most preposterous statements that I have heard in a while, and I still cannot wrap my head around the idea that it all came out of the mouth of someone who has lived in Singapore all her life, a place where diversity is celebrated. Even more shocking is the fact that she is a college student, a portion of our society that is supposed to be the most educated, and the most well-informed. I mean, shouldn't education change that narrow mindedness over the years that she has been in school?

You cannot argue for racism, you just can't. There is no way in which you can try to rationalize racism, because anything will fall flat against logic no matter how you see it. Racism, along with religion, really shouldn't be something that can be argued about, because they are both so ridiculous and stupid that it is laughable. Yet, those are two of the so-called "sensitive" topics that people tend to keep a hush-hush about, something which I do not completely understand. It is like the statement of "pigs flying" being a debate, when it really shouldn't be. Whether or not it is true that black people are scary, for example, is like the debate of whether or not pigs can really fly - it is no argument at all, really. My point is that racism is so stupid that it will not stand against someone with a set of basic logic, and that it shouldn't even be a debate whatsoever. But there are still people in this world who are terribly afraid of a particular race because, well, they are. They'd say that they are not racists, and they'd find a dozen different other reasons why they have a certain prejudice against a certain group of people. But the truth is that they are not fooling anybody but themselves, to deny the part of their minds that screams racist in a dozen different languages.

I expressed my disgust for racist people to this friend of mine, and I told her that she is disgusting for thinking that way. What is even stranger is how she apologized for her racist views, and then used the excuse "I cannot help it" to explain everything that she has said. I do not deny that at that moment, I wanted to walk away from where we were. But still, I didn't want to make a big deal out of the situation, because it'd seem rather petty of me to discredit everything else about this friend of mine that makes her a friend of mine, if you know what I mean. I believe that "I cannot help it" or "I am like that" is never an excuse for anything at all, especially when it comes to racism. You don't admit that you are a racist and not do anything about it. I mean, it is too convenient to do that, and it's kinda like how a slob would lay on his back all day and do nothing, and seems to warrant himself in doing so by claiming that he is "like that", and "cannot help it". It's disgusting how people like that can use their own personality and character as an excuse to racism, when nothing should ever be an excuse to racism at all. If you were gang raped by twelve black guys, maybe I see a reason why you'd have a certain distain for them, although I will still condemn it. However, this friend of mine does not even have a good reason to feel that way about black people - she just does.

The truth is that whatever that we believe about another group of people, that group of people probably also have a preconceived idea about how Chinese people are like. We are, after all, the minority here in the United States, and people here are going to look at us differently no matter how hard we try. People are going to assume that we are all nerds, that we all talk funny, that we all like to eat dogs, and that we do not shower very often. It'd hurt me immensely if somebody thinks that I look weird or scary just because of my race, because race is really just a state of mind, if anything at all. I can understand if cultures clash, and that we have disagreements between the different cultures. However, to write me off just because of the color of my skin, that is something that is immature and unfair in every shape or form. You simply do not make assumptions about a person just because of the color of his or her skin, when we are exactly the same underneath it all. If we peel away our skins, we are not going to be able to differentiate between different races of people. It sucks that we do not have a word to replace "race", no euphemisms this time to take over this horrible word that tears us apart. I guess it is how we deal with the word that is the most important, and I guess some people are just too immature to understand that racism is such a disgusting trait to have.

You would expect someone from Singapore and with a college education, in today's day and age, to have a better understanding that we live in a multicultural society, and everybody in this world are blending in together. People of different races are marrying each other, people are having children with one another, and who knows one day when there won't be a difference in skin color at all. That'd probably happen in a few thousand years, and not something that we can look forward to in our lifetime. However, it is something that we should always be striving for, even if it is something that we'll achieve in the physical form in our lifetime. I am not saying that we should all pro-create with someone of a different race other than our own. I'm just saying that there really shouldn't be a barrier of race when it comes to liking or loving somebody, you know? I asked this same friend of mine if she'd mind if she meets the perfect guy, but he is malay. She immediately brushed him off, and told me that she'd never even consider it, because she really dislikes malays. I mean, I think it'd make more sense if you want your husband to be rich, to be a certain religion (even this is pushing it), or of a certain nationality (for practical reasons). But if you are going to discredit someone for his or her race, it doesn't make any sense at all.

I am with someone who is half malay and half chinese right now, and she is the most amazing girl that I have ever met in my life. The both of us have already put aside a great many differences that some people may consider to be obstacles in a relationship, and I think for that we have achieved a lot. Sure, we have the age difference, and it is always interesting to know that she is a Catholic and I am an atheist. There are probably stranger combinations out there, but this is pretty unlikely by itself, you know. I've been rejected based on my beliefs (or non-beliefs), and I've never been the kind of person to impose any sort of beliefs on the person that I am with. I think if we can just look pass these trivial things in life, whether or not it is religion, wealth, or the color of our skin, we will be able to achieve a greater understanding. If Neptina is a malay, I'd still fall head over heels for her, no matter what. My liking for her has got absolutely nothing to do with whether or not she is a chinese, a malay, or a bit of both. Neptina's last name could very well be "Azikiwe", and she could very well be from Zimbabwe, I really cannot care less. How do people say that they'd never love a certain group of people is simply beyond me.

Racism is stupid, and I am thankful that I am in the crowd that believes that it is. I don't want to be on the other side of the fence, the side with all the bigots that are freaking out because he or she is in a room full of members of a different race. To be honest, I no longer feel like I am a Chinese in a country full of white people, you know. I mean, every once in a while, I do realize that I am in the minority, especially when the lecturer asks about it or when I am being asked about where I am from. I can understand stereotypes, because I can easily discredit stereotypes. Racism, however, that is something entirely different altogether. Racism has deep claws, and it sinks in real deep into the skin and flesh if it so wishes. You cannot expect to change a person's attitude over a short period of time, because it just doesn't work that way. Perhaps if someone of a different race rescues you from a burning car that you are trapped in, maybe that'd change your perspectives just a little bit. But it just disgusts me that such a primitive belief that black people are inferior or, "scary" as my friend put it, still exists in our world today is beyond me. More than anything, I wish for a world without division, and we can all recognize that we really are not a bunch of different people, but one species as a whole. But of course, stupid people are aplenty, and they are everywhere. What more can we do than to wait for the world to change?

I refer to myself as a "victim" when it comes to long distance relationships, and I use the word "victim" because the definition of it seems to fit with my current situation. The definition of the word "victim" refers to any person harmed, injured, or killed as a result of a crime, accident, or other events or action. In this case, the so-called "event" seems to be my time spent away from my loved ones back home, and the part of me that has been harmed or injured as a result is probably my heart. Long distance relationship is a tricky thing, and it's kinda like trying to untangle and oiled ball of wires. I've never expected myself to be involved in a long distance relationship, and a part of my criteria for a girlfriend before I officially found Neptina was that she'd have to stay close to me. It is strange, and it may not make sense to everybody out there, and some people may attribute it to the fact that I haven't got a car or a license to boot. Yet, if you think about it, even if you do have a car to drive your girlfriend home everyday, having her live on the other side of the country (literally) is still going to be quite a hassle. Love conquers a lot of things, but it can only do so much when the money it takes to pump those petrol starts to burn a hole in your pocket. That is when it slaps you in the face, and you wish that your girlfriend lives underneath your unit in the same condominium.

I still think Pasir Ris is very far away from where I stay in Singapore, but I have become quite accustomed to traveling the distance, thanks to the straight bus between our homes. Distance no longer is an obstacle, and I have now thought myself to be somewhat silly to consider that to be a criteria at all. After all, no matter how far you go, you are still within the same country, and the road in front of your house eventually leads to her house, if you are determined enough to travel it by foot. The distance can be conquered, and I suppose I have conquered it both physically and mentally many times over. However, nothing that we've ever done in the past could have prepared us for this long distance relationship, something which is most commonly heard in relationship horror stories. Chances of survival are small, and the odds are usually against you when it comes to long distance relationship. We've heard it many times before, those stories about couples breaking up after being away from each other for too long. Sometimes, it doesn't even have to be a long haul, like a year or two away from each other. Some couples do not operate very well with distance I suppose, and it isn't something that can be blamed for the most part. Long distance relationship, before this, was like a fable of sorts that I've never considered.

As mentioned before, the decision to come to Buffalo was made a long time ago, way before even Neptina came along into my life as a mere friend. The plot thickened when I became romantically involved with her, and the situation then became a little complicated. As much as I wanted to remain behind and keep as far away as possible from being a victim of a long distance relationship, I knew in the back of my mind that I had to do it. You know, to move away from my comfort zone, to toss myself into a foreign territory without a map or a compass. In truth, I came over to Buffalo without much planning and not a lot of luggage to speak of. I probably had the lightest luggage as compared to my three other friends who came over with me. In my mind, I wanted to start from square one with just a pocket full of cash and a lot of guts to boast. Perhaps I wanted to learn that way, to cut off all conveniences and luxuries, and to start from the very beginning of things. That might explain why I also bought the most daily necessities the moment we touched down in Buffalo, and how I also spent the most money on things like lamps, bedsheets, electric kettle, and all that kinda things. I came over here pretty much with my bare hands, and I suppose that was what I was aiming at - the fastest way to grow out of my shell.

I wanted to do all those, and I think I have achieved all those. I have had a lot of time to mentally prepare myself I suppose, all the way from the very beginning of my college life up until the moment when I left. Yet, I didn't factor in the possibility of being with somebody in the midst of my college life at all. I expected to leave my friends and family behind for months, but a girlfriend never came to me while I was trying to mentally prepare myself. After all, the way that Neptina and I was completely due to chance and some strange mathematical miracle in some ways, and we still constantly talk about how things could have been different if 1) I was late 2) She was late 3) I was a pervert. At any rate, her presence in my life, though welcomed, was something I failed to see when I was trying to prepare myself. I was not prepared to play the role of a victim in a long distance relationship, not ready to deal with the fact that we will be in different time zones and on completely different continents altogether. It was a daunting thought at the beginning, and I remembered all the horror stories that my friends have ever told me. Even the stronger couples that I have known in the past did not stand the test of both distance and time. Many have faltered, though some have survived. The trouble is, though, that you don't have a manual for such things, and you can't help but feel like you are going out into uncharted territories with your eyes blindfolded. After a step or two, it becomes terrifying.

I admit that for the most part of the trip to Buffalo from Singapore, my mind was both too tired and too excited to think about the growing distance between myself and Neptina. The plane ride went by in a daze of sorts, and it was punctuated mostly by food from the stewardesses and the various sleeping positions that I adopted throughout the trip. Even the first day or two in Buffalo failed to leave a mark on me, and I thought I was able to handle it. Perhaps it was the fatigue, or the surrealistic feel of everything around me. Even two days into my trip here, I still found it difficult to believe that I have made it this far on my own, by myself. At any rate, it was not until a week into my stay here in a foreign land did the nail hit deep enough into my chest. The pain of distance is the kind of excruciating pain that you cannot extinguish simply by thinking of happy thoughts. The voice of your loved ones over the phone doesn't help very much either because it only serves to remind you just how far away you are from everything that you have grown to love and care for. At least that was how I felt, away from everybody and everything back home, completely alone and scared out of my wits. It took a while to sink in, but there were nights when it would sink in too deep, and I'd tear uncontrollably about being away for so long.

But, like cockroaches, we have adapted to this distance, and I am glad to say that we are doing OK, something that we constantly remind ourselves of. I cannot help but wonder how the generation of our parents remained in communication in the past. That was a generation when "love letter" perhaps meant more than what it means to us, somehow. I am thankful for the internet, and have remained in contact through phone calls over Skype as well as video conferences. We've kept a blog on Tumblr to update each other on what has been going on in each others' lives, as well as our own common blog to record random little nothings from the back of our very vibrant minds. Aside from all of those, we've been writing letters despite the fact that it seems to take forever to reach each other. My latest letter, a physical one mind you, was actually sent mistakenly to Osaka because of a postage screw-up on their part and not mine. On nights when we are both free to do so, we'd even turn on our Skype throughout the night so that the other person could watch and look over. It may seem like too much work just to keep in contact, and may seem redundant to some people. But it is something that comforts me immensely, even if I am the one doing the looking.

It is comforting to know that when you wake up in the middle of the night, the person that you love is going to be right next to your on your bed, in some shape or form. It's not that I wake up in my bed screaming because of a nightmare or anything like that, because I haven't had that kind of thing for a long time now. But it is still comforting sometimes to hear Neptina doing something on her side of the world, whether or not it is the sound of her typing something on her laptop, or the sound of the television from the living room. I'd recognize some of the advertisements and television shows sometimes even when I am sleeping soundly, and these are just some of the things that reminds me that things are still going on back home, and very much alive while I am gone. I suppose we all need this kind of reminder every once in a while, something to tell you that things back home are exactly the same as how you left them, that everything is going to be all right. At any rate, I'd leave my computer turned on for hours on end, and she'd be the same floating head in the morning when I wake up as the floating head that waved goodnight to me the night before. Even when the bed is empty on her side of the world, she'd literally bounce into view and greet me cheerfully.

On weekends like today, when I haven't got a reason to be in school at all, she'd be the one sleeping while I mind my own business throughout the day, watching over her. Perhaps it is the fact that she prefers to turn all the lights in her bedroom off, which invites a great many vivid imaginations to brew in one's head. Neptina wakes up more often than I do in the middle of the night, and there were times in the past when she'd call me on the phone just because she had a nightmare of sorts. I've never actually watched over somebody like this before, because I'd usually succumb to my own fatigue halfway through the first ten minutes or so. This time, however, I can watch over her without the fear of falling asleep myself, and it has been a comforting thing to do. To see the person that you love in pixelated form, shuffling in between the sheets, her hair sprawled on the pillow like river systems that we've studied in geography so long ago. On nights when the lights from the laptop monitor is enough to reach her body, you'd be able to see her chest moving up and down to every breath that she takes, and then there are those moments when you'd see the tiny glitter in her half-opened eyes, with the eyeballs rolling around inside, hinting a dream in the back of her mind.

Sometimes, with a groan and a stretch, she'd wake up in the middle of the night for a variety of reasons. A nightmare sometimes, but mostly when nature calls, Neptina would always turn to me and I'd be there, checking up on her. She told me once that she never used to sleep with her back facing the outside of the bed, and always the side with the wall. With the laptop turned on and my floating head constantly hovering around, she has been able to sleep while she faces the other side, and she feels more secure because of that. It is silly, maybe, but it makes me feel as if I am doing my job protecting her somehow, even if there really isn't much to protect her from other than the wild imaginations of the night. I get more pleasure out of watching her, really, the way that her breathing would sometimes takeover the music from my Macbook, rising and falling like a natural symphony orchestra, and those rare moments when she'd murmur something in her sleep. We have been doing this for a great many nights now, and we have also taken pictures of each other sleeping. I hate the look on my face when I sleep, and I think I look like a corpse while sleeping, truth be told. She says the same thing about herself, but I truly believe that there isn't a more peaceful sight than the one of your lover asleep next to you.

I suppose when it comes to a long distance relationship, no one can safely say that they are very good at it. A friend of mine could have been called an expert at long distance relationships, but even his relationship disintegrated after four years of trying, with one of them in Singapore and the other in Australia. It's like the idea of having a "love doctor", an oxymoron by itself, because I don't think any of us are authorities on this issue at all. We are all trying to feel our way through long distance relationships, and we are also hoping that it will not get to the better part of what we hold to be precious and true. It is a tricky thing, as I started this blog entry with, and it certainly makes victims out of a lot of people, a lot of the time. What we can do is to work out an equation that fits both parties, knowing that it'd work within those boundaries. The truth is that there's no one else I'd rather be in a long distance relationship than Neptina, because no one else is worth the trouble and worth the time. I suppose she, as well as the thing that we share, are just too important for geography to take over, you know. Even if the both of us exist to each other mainly in the form of pixels, even if the clarity of our images are dictated solely by external forces like the internet connection, we still try, and we still try our very best. In more ways than one, that seems to be the only way for us to reach into the screen, to break the fourth wall literally, and it seems to have worked out so far. In pixels or not, I still love my girlfriend in high or low resolution.

I think humans are creature that are difficult to satisfy by nature. I remember a quote by Abraham Lincoln that I've heard in class before about how you can satisfy all of the people some of the times, some of the people some of the times. However, you can never satisfy all of the people all of the times. I think the concept that there is always something missing can be a double-edged sword. On one hand, you could wallow in your own inadequacies, knowing that there is always a chip missing from everything, thus dooming you to an unfulfilled life. Or, you could always use that as a motivation to strive for better things in life. Such is the reason why "good enough" should never be "good enough", simply because being good enough makes human beings incompetent, it sometimes makes us lazy. When you have everything properly laid out for you, when everything has been beautifully planned out for you, you start to wonder if this facade of order has something more sinister brewing underneath. I do not speak of some governmental controversy or anything of that sort, but the idea that something is missing in the picture-perfect quality of everything around you. I am not sure about you, but I sometimes wonder if the completeness of Singapore gives anybody else out there a feeling that something is missing, despite everything falling into the right places and spaces.

I have been in Buffalo for a couple of months now, and I suppose there are moments in the silence of your bedroom in the dead of the night when your mind allows you a few moments to ponder and meditate about things. Buffalo, being in the suburbs and all, it leaves a lot of place for silence, especially when you are awake at three in the morning. Despite the parties on Friday and weekends, there are times in a month when everybody is in agreement that "enough is enough", and they restrain themselves to loud music on their earphones, and the beer cans are kept in cartons in the fridge. Silent nights like that make you think about what has come to pass, and has yet to come to pass, and the present state of things. Buffalo is a great place to ran away to, with its large expense of farms and cold weather in the winter, it feels like the perfect place to cuddle at home with your loved ones. It isn't exactly the kind of place you'd expect to see bustling life, or a city life for that matter. The term "downtown" is a gross overstatement when it comes to Buffalo, as you really only see life along the streets on very specific days of the year. Say, the Halloween night, when all the false ghosts and spirits come out to party till the early hours of the morning. Other than that, Buffalo is a nice quiet town, tucked away in the corner of the state of New York, away from the Big Apple and all that jazz.

People always say great things about the foreign cities that they've been to, and then in return diss about the county that they came from. In retaliation, many people back home would argue that the reason you feel that other cities are superior to your own is because you haven't been there long enough to understand the differences of it all. You know, if you take a week or two and visit a country in in Europe, for example, you are going to fall in love with that place, and feel that your own countries lacks everything that is good about Europe. Certainly, there are things in Europe that are just completely unwired, things that don't necessarily make sense. I was talking to an Italian classmate of mine one day when she told me about how bad the firefighters are in southern Italy. When there is a fire, they take their time to reach the scene with their fire engines, and it's not like the people bother very much in giving way either. She told me about how there was this one time when she saw fire engines parked a few blocks away from the scene of the fire, simply because a man inside a restaurant illegally parked his car in a way that blocked the road for the fire engines. So yes, there are benefits in living in a civilized and modern society, and you shouldn't complain when you have the convenience in everything.

That is what people would tell you anyway, to "not compare" and "not complain". I mean, personally speaking, Singapore is considered a first-world country with first-world, well, everything. The country constantly boast about its ports, its airports, its economy, or at least that is what National Day parades are for anyway. It is a grandiose form of masturbation, when in the end you are still screwing your own palm anyway. Nobody can deny the achievements of the Singaporean government, and even more amazing and just how much they have accomplished in such a little time. Yet, if you really think about it, people in Singapore tend to have the concept that the grass is greener on the other side. At least a lot of people that I have talked to tend to feel that way about certain things. There is no questions about the concept of home in their minds, because Singapore is always going to be seen as a home to them, since most of them were born there and everything. I, however, am in a very curious position and thus, have a very unique perspective on things. Taiwan is where I was born, yet I spent the better part of my life in Singapore, as a student, as a soldier, as a citizen. I cannot honestly feel that Taiwan is my only home, because I only go back once every year after all. And as for Singapore, as much as I have been a part of the society, I've always found it easy to distinguish myself from a great part of the society over there.

Complete integration has never happened to me in either of the countries that I have spent the most time in, which is a strange thing for anybody. You want to feel a sense of affiliation, any for of affiliation, to a country even if it means betrayal. I mean, there is a reason why you can only be a citizen of one country at any given time officially, because the government wants to know who you are rooting for at the end of the day. Yet, for me, I find it somewhat difficult to find either place a place that I want to settle down permanently. Taiwan is obviously alien in some ways to me because the country has developed and grown without me being around most of the time. I moved to Singapore when I was five years old, and things are always changing and evolving back home whenever I go back. I've lived in Singapore for eighteen years, but I feel so uninvolved in a great many things, and I do not share many visions that the education system and the government attempts to shove down our throats. I feel like I have been a part of both countries, and yet integration isn't something that I have come to terms with fully. With that said, I have found the concept of home in both islands, which further complicates the situation in some ways.

That is also the reason why I've always been the kind of person who'd jump at the chance of going overseas, even if it is somewhere close, like Indonesia or Thailand. Perhaps it is an attempt to find somewhere that suits my way of life, or my ideology, whatever that you call it. At any rate, while I have fallen in love with the scenery and food of Thailand, it isn't a place that I'd like to settle down for real, you know. There is a difference between a good holiday destination, and a good place to call home. I suppose it is true what Zach Braff's character said in Garden State, when he said that the idea of home is merely a state of the mind. It isn't something physical, it isn't something tangible. You could own a physical property, a real house with four walls and a roof with everything inside carefully furnished and renovated. Yet, a house could still remain as a house and not a home, if you know what I mean. I still call my apartment in Buffalo my "apartment" or "house", because to call it "home" would be far-fetched, considering the drugs lying around the kitchen every now and then. Anyway, as much as I have liked those places, I've always looked forward to going back at the end of the trip.

Now that I have spent a considerable amount of time on this side of the fence, I suppose I am qualified enough to make an observation or two about this place. I love this country, what it has to offer, and its people. Despite being in the midst of adjusting to the culture, I really like this place a lot. So much is the same in Singapore and so much is different, and it is sometimes difficult to pin-point any one aspect of things. Perhaps the malls and the supermarkets are somewhat similar, save for the significant difference in size. The lifestyles and the cultures, however, are completely different over here. Even when you are talking about a small comic book store, you start to realize that people here just treat other people differently. You can say that the people here are generally nicer, at least that is what I can say through my own experiences. I have been on this side of the fence for a while now, and nobody back home can say that I haven't been overseas long enough to know how good my home country is. Well I have been here for some time now, survived on my own accord and lived by my own standards. I've done everything on my own and for myself, which in many ways qualifies me to be a judge of a great many things between the two places.

It is perhaps harsh to say this, but I've recently realized that there isn't a lot in Singapore for me to hold on to if I were to leave it forever. I will say one thing, though, that I love Singaporeans. I think the Singaporeans that I know, my friends and loved one(s), are the only reason why I would want to stay there. The people in Singapore are the best thing about Singapore, and everything else to me pales in comparison. It would be difficult for me to summarize "the people of Singapore" into one sentence, or a paragraph for that matter. Sometimes, people over here would ask you about how is Singapore like as a country, and I almost always start with everything else but the people. The reason for that is because it is difficult to group Singaporeans into one classification for the most part, because they are so diverse and similar at the very same time. There are a great many people that I have met in the course of my life, many of them are awesome people, they are all Singaporeans. I love the people that I have met for the most part, the friends that I have had the pleasure to be acquainted with, and not to mention the awesome girlfriend that I have had the pleasure to fall in love with. Other than the people, though, I do wonder why I even bother at times.

This isn't a love letter to Singapore at any rate, perhaps just a love letter to its people. If there is a way to take everybody in Singapore and put them in the United States, I'd gladly stay here forever. You cannot blame Singapore entirely though, because there are shortfalls that it simply cannot change. For example, the weather remains the same for the most part, there aren't a lot of natural attractions to look at, and there island is so small that it is physically possible to walk from one point to the other within the span of a day if you so wish. Singapore is a tiny, tiny island that has focused much of its efforts in the past decades on economic growth, something which makes a whole lot of sense for the most part. Yet, having been to many cities around the world, I've always felt that the modernization of Singapore has killed any form of art or culture in the city. Everything is about growth, growth, growth, and so little is left to preservation and conservation. Even the natural reserves and the old relics are properly maintained and kept neat and tidy. It is an awesome place to go back to, but it isn't a place that anybody would want to settle down in forever.

Perhaps if you give Singapore a few more decades, some form of art and culture would be able to seep through. I mean, how much emphasis has been placed upon the art scene in Singapore anyway? If you are a musician in Singapore, you are probably doing it, most likely, as a hobby and not as a career. It will go nowhere unless you go beyond the boundaries of your country, and that is what I feel to be so suffocating about the place sometimes. Suffocating, because more than just the physical limitations of the country, the opportunities that it provides in terms of art and expression is like a blip to the ones offered in other parts of the world. What I am trying to say is that although I really want to go back to Singapore at this point in time, there is a significant part of me who also want to stay. Of course, I also want Neptina, my friends and family to come along as well. I don't want to be selfish and decide to stay here when I have left everybody else behind. I love the people, and I love the way that I am with the people in Singapore. If taken away from the rest of the population, I'd probably shoot myself in Singapore, no doubt. Singapore isn't nearly as great as Singaporeans, and I am not even sure if that makes any sense. Anyway, I am ready to go home, and yet I am not willing to leave this great country. It is a conflict and a dilemma that I deal with from time to time, especially when the future hangs in the balance of things, you know.

I have come to a conclusion that more than just an opportunity to visit new cities, to meet new people, and to experience a weather system that is like the one in Singapore on speed, it is more about growing up and being independent. There seems to be a difference between knowing what to do to grow up and to actually be in the process of growing up. On the brink of this journey, I've always known that I needed to do this thing no matter how much the other half of my heart may try to persuade me to stay. As much as it was a rather impromptu decision made on my part to come over to Buffalo, it was a decision that I knew that I had to stick with, and to see the end of it with my own eyes. I remember the beginning of my college life back in Singapore when I was first presented with the opportunity to come over. When asked about if I wanted to come over to Buffalo to continue my studies, I remember telling people that I'd definitely be going. But that was about three years before the actual trip alone, and for three years I told people that I'd be traveling overseas for my studies. It was somewhat embarrassing when asked the question of "when", and the answer would be "in 2009". Now that I am in the present tense of things, I am truly glad that I made the decision to come over.

The afternoon of October the 30th five years ago was the day I thought that I'd die in the next two years. That was the day when I received my enlistment letter from the army, something that the majority of the guys in Singapore would have experienced. I remember the weakness in my knees and the confusion in my mind. It was a day that I'd not soon forget, because of the intense fear that I had for the days to come. I was positive that I'd die in the army, and I am not talking about it in the figurative sort of way. I was certain that the training would actually deal physical harm to my body, so much so that I'd die out in the fields like a great many horror stories I have heard about it. Then again, if my self-imposed prophecy actually came true, I wouldn't still be here writing about it, now would I? I worried a lot about the army back then, so much so that I forgot to understand that even the worst of things can turn out to be the best way to grow up, to learn something about yourself. I am grateful for the times I had in the army, though that is not to say that I want to throw myself into a camp again. I am thankful for what I have learned, the experiences that I have gained, and the friends that I have made along the way. If there is a single most powerful event that changed my outlook on life, that'd be it.

Yet, those weren't the things that went through my head when I tore the corners of that letter on that gloomy October afternoon. I was in a state of shock and fear, the kind that comes along when you are unsure of the unknown. As much as people would try to tell you about how life is like in the military, you never really know until you go through with it. I suppose the only thing that I would change if I have a chance would be to stop worrying so much, and just put my head down and deal with one thing at a time. I didn't realize the purpose of it all back then, but I was also much younger and more naive about things. It was impossible for my young mind to comprehend that even the worst events could be life-altering back then. If I have a chance, I'd probably go back and tell the younger version of myself that there really isn't much for me to worry about - because there wasn't. There were a lot of nasty things that happened in the next two years for me, but at least I've never actually been seriously harmed in any way shape or form. I've been through many things that people have seldom even heard about, and those are the things that really shaped me into the person that I am today.

There are only so many opportunities in one person's life to make a difference, I suppose, and traveling abroad to study is just one of those things that comes along. It is a totally different ball game now, something completely different from the military. Sure, you don't have a time to wake up and a time to go to sleep, and you certainly don't have a sergeant screaming down your throat just because you forgot to do a certain step when your round gets stuck in the chamber of your rifle. You don't have routines to follow, or at least not the stringent kind that is reinforced in the military. Yet, all the way over here, you are torn away from your family and friends, and forced to learn and adapt to a culture that you are alien to for the most part. No matter how much people would tell you that Singapore is a very westernized country, it is still not the same, you know. Nothing back home is going to prepare you for what is outside of your front door, as I'd like to put it. Everything outside of the comfort of your own home is a comfort that takes time to get used to, even if it is not too comfortable. I do not have meals prepared for me three times a day like I used to in the military, and I certainly miss the idea that I could go home every Friday and over the weekend just to meet my family and friends all over again.

Pros and cons, I suppose, a sense of balance to things. I've heard the saying before that you never want to get too comfortable in life, and in some ways I do believe in that. It is conflicting, in a way, especially when I do consider myself a creature of comfort, somebody who enjoys a certain continuity in his life that involves the same level of comfort and familiarity. Then again, once in a while, you start to wonder what is outside of your window, of your estate, of the borders of your country. At least that is what I thought about when I signed up to come over to Buffalo. I enjoy the convenience, but even that becomes boring after some time. Singapore is a well-organized country, with great infrastructure, with clean streets, with a well-planned public transport system, and pretty much everything that you'd possible want in a modern first-world city. Yet, I cannot help but realize that if I were to take a few people from Singapore and bring them to Buffalo, I'd not miss that country a great deal at all. Aside from the people, a small handful of them, there really isn't much in Singapore for me to hold on to, truth be told. That is not to say that I'd want to stay here forever, of course, because you can't just shift people around like they are pieces in a board game. However, I do wonder the possibilities and the implications.

Anyway, growing up is a terrifying thing. I think there is an age that you grow up to when you realize that it is no joke anymore. I know of friends older than myself, and I do sometimes wonder how they are taking it into stride, you know. Growing old doesn't necessarily mean growing up, and some people would consider the former to be a whole lot scarier. Perhaps the girls would think that way, but not so much to me. I suppose it is a guy thing to fear less about growing older, because they always say that men have a long expiry date as compared to women. At any rate, I feel that growing up is a much scarier process than growing old, simply because of the kind of decisions that you have to make in life, and the responsibilities that come along with it. This is the last year of college, and then the working life comes swiftly afterwards. Of course, I still have the option to go back to graduate school if I so wish, to take up a diploma or a minor somewhere else if I want to. There are opportunities for everybody in the country to further their studies somewhere, and such a route isn't exactly uncommon for the most part. Yet, being on the edge of something this major, it does become really daunting for the most part. Growing up is pretty damn scary, and I suppose that is just the eighteen year old inside of me speaking.

You know, the same eighteen year old who tore open that letter and got a fright of his life. The truth is that I don't think any of us should worry too much about how our lives will eventually turn out. Sure, it helps to have a plan of sorts to get you going, but having a plan doesn't mean that one should worry too much about whether it will pan out or not. I am not saying that we should just stay at home and blend into your couch and have roots sprouting from your butt anytime soon. What I am saying is that we don't always have to worry about everything in our lives, because life works itself out if you have a rough general direction in things. Worrying too much isn't going to get us anywhere, because you are just going to be running around in circles. I think I have learned enough in my own life, through the not-so-considerable amount of experiences, that all we have to do is to put our chins down to our chest and get through whatever that we need to get through. Step by step, bit by bit, and somehow it is going to work out anyway.

The mistake that I made before the life in the army started was to worry way too much about pretty much everything. I worried about my writing, my hobbies, my life, my relationship with people, and all of those things that came into my very limited brain capacity at once. I say, to just deal with what we have to deal right now and worry about other things later. Growing up is scary, but not so scary when you divide and conquer, you know? Besides, if there is one thing that I have learned, it is that if everybody else is in the same shit as you, then it isn't so scary anymore. Everybody is growing up, and everybody is growing old. Most of the people I know are the same age as I am, and there are people who are always around to help out if you need it. That is the kind of comfort that I have, at this point, knowing that people will always be watching out for me, one way or another.