I am almost certain that I have two personalities, two very extreme personalities, and I didn't remember the existence of the party-going, rock music-loving me until last saturday. Like two sides of a coin, but one cannot exist without the other. It takes little amount of mastery to learn switching between the two and use them for different situations. But it would be even better perhaps if I could tap into the advantages of each any time I see the need.
Interesting discussion about religion over lunch. So apparently in Germany and Austria if you declared yourself as Roman Catholic or Protestant you'd have to pay a certain percentage of your income each month to the church. And if you weren't working, you'd still have to pay, if you declared your religion as such. This is obligatory, and only if you left the church would you be free from church tax. But why? Shouldn't these things be voluntary? I mean of course these funds wouldn't be channelled into just the upkeep of the church, but also other useful activities and programmes (apparently churches receive 70% of church tax). But it sounds to me like extortion in the name of religion. And shouldn't church and state be two separate entities?
"…particularly in Europe, is the tax some national governments impose on income on behalf of the state church. Austria, Germany, the Nordic countries and Switzerland all have such a church tax, though in the chart it is included only in the cases of Denmark and Switzerland. One may ask whether the church tax really is a ‘tax’ as defined by international organisations: a compulsory, unrequited payment to general government."
http://www.oecdobserver.org/news/fullstory.php/aid/77/The_income_taxes_people_really_pay.html
"The church tax is only paid by members of the respective church. People who are not member of a church tax-collecting denomination do not have to pay it. Members of a religious community under public law may formally declare their wish to leave the community to state (not religious) authorities. With such a declaration, the obligation to pay church taxes ends. Some communities refuse to administer marriages and burials of (former) members who had declared to leave it."
The anger is creeping in again, seeping through tissues, mingling with blood, coarsing through veins. The mind is indeed a very powerful tool – because that's where the anger comes from, it comes from within, conjured by the mind to be, at the beginning, an illusion but then silently realising its presence and then its potential. Then acquiring a character of its own and formidable as it is, it bursts through the floodgates of patience, worn thin and weary from strain, and in an instant unleashes itself unto the thoughtless victim, who is not quite the subject of the speaker but on the contrary the speaker itself – thoughtless, mindless and lost in the inner world of passion and emotion.
This anger is inconsiderate; it is selfish and abhorrs any attention bestowed upon the interests of others. It professes that it acts in the interest of the self, speaks for the rights of the self, but in actuality is concerned with establishing its presence. It feels it must be seen and heard as the self. All this while the internal struggle continues such that the outsider is faced with a series of accusations, some true some false. The mind eventually loses its ability to reason and is then convinced that this anger is justified. This is the start of a situation that walks down a one-way street to the point of no return.
'Bystanders, people who witness but are not directly affected by the actions of perpetrators, help shape society by their action. Bystanders can exert powerful influences. They can define the meaning of events and move others toward empathy or indifference. They can promote values and norms of caring, or by their passivity of participation in the systems, they can affirm the perpetrators.'-Ervin Staub
Lausanne to me has become a symbol of peace - the calm of the waters, the quiet of the city on a Sunday, as if to say, "take a break…", the clear outline of the French Alps in the distance, pompous and commanding to take your breath away so you could think of nothing else but revel in its beauty. My own apartment in the middle of the night, so still you could hear footsteps above you. And the delight in imagining just how homely I can make it.
So what exactly drew me back to London with such enthusiasm that I could proclaim these bunch of friends here "family"? There are the same expectations as before. To a certain extent I understand what Kamil meant whne he talked about change. It really isn't the same is it? Well not as if I never saw that coming. I even had first hand experience when I went back for Commemoration Day this year. My head is spinning now, words are jumbled, the faces of people are all a blur, I cannot see now what things are, cannot differentiate between the now and then and the should be, I cannot think for myself whilst my heart is afire.
Perhaps the fact that even with lowered expectations, that one is required again to sink even lower with them. It would have been possible to live with another without crossing boundaries, even to attempt building up relationships, but what should one do when the respect due is not given? Or perhaps that that in itself is an expectation? And also perhaps that one should adopt the attitude that it is really "each for his own", to only trust oneself and to stand up for one's own rights even if it means playing the rogue. Where exactly do I stand? I am tearing myself apart minute by minute between this and my own beliefs, my words gradually just becoming a pile of jumble, nonsensical, and I am not meaning what I say, even saying what I mean. I need to straighten out my thoughts.
What are these, games? Actions done deliberately? Subconsciously? But when repeated one too often one can be almost certain of the implications, the underlying meaning behind these words, these actions. Or what? Am I being too involved to see the whole picture? What am I missing out? What is the story like on the other side? How much can I trust these words?
Yes, certainly it is Christmas Day today, and I do wish that things are good. Last year today I was in Japan, walking Roppongi with Atsuko and Kamil, surrounded by lighted white Christmas trees. 7 years ago I was part of a sports team, complaining of our captain for affecting others with her temper when she was upset. I know I don't believe in pulling others down with my mood, and I do hope tonight's Christmas celebrations will be good - with or without the laughter that will be drowned out by the Simon Bolivar Youth Orchestra anyway. Could this simply be a variation of taking those closest to you for granted? I am glad I have foreseen the importance of keeping in contact with friends here and in Singapore I have left alone for ages, people who I know care, beyond the walls of my house. And what's new with being treated like a second-class citizen? You cry and then you laugh it away. My wish now is only to enjoy my remaining time here in London and to finish here what I came for.
One does not settle down overnight. There is first the literal occupying of a new apartment, followed then by the tackling of bureaucracy, making the dwelling homely enough, getting accustomed to the food, culture, language, making some new friends… And then comes the honing of the spirit such that the heart does not buckle under external pressure, such that the virtues that were acquired and practised but waveringly sustained are not altogether lost to a whole different environment. This is my second understanding of "The heart does not follow the environment", a motto that I always preach when under pressure from work. In short, there still needs to be self-restrain in my actions, and a need to address the restlessness in my thoughts.
Ever wondered how it feels like being homeless? Try this - lock yourself out on a weekday night in a Swiss city in the middle of winter. To enhance this once-in-a-lifetime experience, try wearing only a thin sweater and have with you nothing at all apart from the clothes you are wearing.
There is something missing in my life now. It is that of intellectual conversation that I always had while in London. And time and attention generously given to me by good friends always willing to understand. It is not so much that I cannot adapt here, in fact this bunch of international people are really fun to be with. But take Friday for instance, there were the 'ooohs and aaahs' of teasing. Perhaps I am just not used to it after all this time, but surely it isn't that difficult to launch into intellectual conversation rather than place this much emphasis on who's interested in who? Oddly enough I feel like a baby - 23 and at least 2 years younger than my peers. Perhaps there is more to it than meets the eye of their apparent superficiality?
I've been brought up with the idea that problems which can be solved with money are not really problems after all. Which is why finding a flat in London is to me much easier than finding one here in Switzerland. Coming from a broken family gave me the chance to be who I am today. Problems had to be faced, and though I was an unhappy child I reveled in the luck of having a funded overseas education, a luxury that not many children can afford to have. And because parents have moved on to have their own life, I never had to worry about obligations to 'pay back' what was invested in me.
So it is time to get my act together. After all, I am still very lucky to have come this far. Money matters always hurt, but then money can be used to solve problems. And this time it is no exception. I need to tell myself to be thankful that I have an income at the very least. And that I have this opportunity that money cannot buy. It is time for me to stop thinking about that very daunting five-figure sum, but to think about how I could go about finding that balance between affording what I want and to pay off this immense debt that was not of my doing.
Emotions take time to cool, and cool off they will but I hope not with too much of a loss of respect. In the end, we are all very different people and we cannot expect others to live up to our own expectations especially of ourselves. What I could achieve someone else may not be able to. Like Zheyi said, "Life is beautiful because we fuck up!"
We didn't realise this, and we didn't acknowlege this… but did we see it coming? My worst fears have come true… or are they my worst? Or OUR fears? The truth is plain to see - that we are growing apart. And horridly there is nobody to blame but our lifestyles - work, commitment, moving out etc etc… I still speak as if it is my family, and we still behave as if it is our family. But where has the enthusiasm gone? I myself am guilty in this respect, but perhaps because it seemed as if nobody cared.
I can still say without hesitation, "London is my second home." But can I talk about London in the same way three years from now? Do I miss everyone there? I don't think I'd be honest with myself if I said I did dreadfully. Because the truth is, I don't think about London that often. I saw a purpose of my one year in London, and I have prepped myself psychologically for what is to come and what is. Perhaps a little too much, such that I now am glad that I am living on my own. Honestly, I couldn't take living like a student anymore. It is not the people, it is about me having my own space. And the need for that ever slight distance, that reservation between friends, that space when you cool off your emotions after a hard day's work. Because you tend to depend on others when it lasts.
I am not the least bit disappointed, but perhaps confused. What is Qugee to me now? Does it need a redefinition? This certainly doesn't entail a withdrawl, but perhaps there needs to be a redefinition, along with priorities. Perhaps one should start with what Qugee is? What does it mean to each of us? Oddly enough, I'm not panicking, neither am I upset. It seems to me a natural progression towards a cooling off of relations, one that can neither be dealt with because of physical, geographical isolation, nor can be improved because of priorities and commitments.
