The Puddle In Front of My Porch

If I have been keeping track of my to-do list correctly, then I have about twenty other things which I should be working on at this very moment. So of course, the natural thing for me to do is instead completely ignore them all, binge on Youtube videos all day long and partake in some pseudo-intellectual writing i.e. rambling on my blog. Why am I like this?

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It's currently the rainy season over here. The days are dull and grey, and they are interspersed with cycles of heavy and light rain. Wet stray cats, shivering from the cold, frequently seek shelter under my porch. On more than one occasion, I have discovered a frog hiding under a cup in my sink. It's already been two weeks since I've done the laundry (can't risk my clothes smelling like they're a makeshift site for fungal cultivation) and I can nary go outside without first pulling up the ankles of my trousers. These are the some of the things that have been going on while the rain rages on outside. 

Actually, I should be quite thankful that these are the only inconveniences I've had to put up with. Should the Big Flood of 2014 recur (hopefully not), I may very well be typing this out while sitting atop a roof, my sorry behind waiting to be hauled off to a flood center.

(I don't think I'd fare well at a flood center. I already cope poorly when placed together with a small crowd in a moderately-sized room, so the thought of being stuck in a vast communal hall together with a bunch of strangers sends a shiver down my spine and makes me break out into a cold sweat)

I remember as a young boy, the rainy season used to be more...rainy? What I mean by this is, it used to be that there'd be continuous rain for two or three days at a time. Sure, in between the torrential pours there'd be moments of light drizzle, but the fact remains that it was raining non-stop. These days however, it rains heavily for maybe an hour or two, and then there'd be no rain - sometimes even sunshine - for the following couple of hours, and then the cycle repeats. Maybe this is what they mean by climate change?

Whatever it is, I have always associated the rainy season with frequent snacking, drinking hot tea by the gallon, and also warm, thick blankets - all of which I have been indulging in during my weekend off. I'm just really using the cold,wet weather as an excuse to be lazy at this point, but boy oh boy, is it a valid one.

Mountain Climbing, Or How I Learned To Love Video Games (I Always Have)

I'm typing this out as my head spins round and round, like how the earth spins on its axis to complete a day-night cycle, or how a politician might spin a statement so much, it doesn't even begin to make sense. And what might be the reason behind this dizziness, you might ask gentle reader? I had earlier developed a terrible case of the hives from goodness knows what (I haven't had any previous history of allergies), and unable to further tolerate the burning itchiness creeping up my arms, neck and face, I decided to give myself a full dose of anti-histamine and steroids. As the world swims before my eyes, and the voices of my junior colleagues become more distant, I'm beginning to doubt whether this was a good call to begin with, considering I am on duty tonight.

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After having finished my exams recently, I started to once again pick up my controller and boot up the good ol' Playstation 4. Considering the last time I actually played the darn thing was when I suffered through The Last Of Us Part 2 a couple of months ago (an entry for another day), I was surprised I still remembered how to navigate the user interface. This is, of course, just another of my exaggerations. 

Though I am well past my prime (I used to clock in 10-12 hours a day during my peak Final Fantasy days) owing to more adult-ly responsibilities, I still do very much enjoy escaping into my private virtual playground. Single player, narrative-driven games are pretty much my staple diet, but I also enjoy other genres as well. And the game which I am currently playing - called Celeste - comes under the category of *checks notes* ah, yes - "rage game"

"Rage game" is a pretty apt moniker for Celeste, as I caught myself coming dangerously close to flinging my poor controller in a fit of blind fury on more than one occasion. However, a heart-warming, relatable story and a delightful cast of charming characters helped me eventually see this game to the end. At the beginning, we're told that it is a story of a girl, Madeline, who wants to climb the titular mountain to challenge herself. However, as we progress through the game, we discover that she actually suffers from depression and anxiety, and climbing this mountain was her way of getting out of a rut. Along the journey, she meets several other characters who share their thoughts and insights into her condition, and consequently help Madeline to change the way she views herself and life. When I put it that way, it sounds more of like a fairy-tale for children, but make no mistake - the writing and the dialogue in this game is really meant for grown-ups going through a rough patch. That makes it all of us, don't you deny it.

I related to most of Madeline's dialogue, especially the parts where she has long conversations with the "other part of her". And her interactions with the other characters genuinely hit me in the feels at times, due to how close it hit home. I know gamers keep defending their hobby by saying it's therapy, but for me, this really was therapeutic. If ever I end up seeing a therapist, I imagine Celeste would be one of the topics I'd bring up, and how it had a - maybe temporary, but definitely - profound effect on my life. 

Before I close this entry, I'll leave you with this screenshot I grabbed from the epilogue. This was after roughly about 11 hours of huffing and puffing through the game, and though it's meant for Madeline, I'm pretty sure we all could do to remember and keep it close to our hearts as well.

I Would Like To Complete My Examination By....

So, earlier this week saw me sitting for my clinical exams - again, ugh - because what is life if not a continuous barrage of trials and tribulations? No, don't answer that. It was a completely rhetorical question, and I have no need for a lecture this late at night on why life is a struggle and some people have it worse than others and that I should be thankful for the life I have. That's an entry for another day.

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Having not passed my previous attempt, I came into the exam better prepared this time around. This is of course a lie, as the only time I have ever felt prepared for an exam was some time around the beginning of the new millennia, which given how 2020 has played out so far, might as well be a bajillion years ago. But back to the exam - I had stayed back after work to catch up on reading. I had practised my bedside skills over and over again with my friends till we all felt like throwing up. I even dropped a hefty amount of money just to buy a decked out digital tablet to reassure myself that I was putting actual effort to pass the exams this time around. 

(On hindsight, I might have just been using the exam as an excuse to buy that sweet iPad Pro, but it's already too late to take it back to the shops. Oh well)

It's one thing to sit for exams as a student. It is an entirely different ball game taking exams as an adult, stiff lower back and all. For starters, there's the added responsibilities of work, family and 1001 other things which I can't bear to list down here. Secondly, these days my body automatically shuts itself down at 10 p.m. whereas as recently as a couple of years ago, I could harness the power of caffeine/artificial lighting/black magic to stay up through the night. Thirdly, it just sucks to take exams at any age.

Anyhoo, the exams came and went, and now we wait for the results. God wiling, I hope I'll make it through as it's more than just a "see you in another 6 months' time!" at stake this time around. I have burdened my support group more than I would like to, and they could do without having to repeat the stint again. More importantly, I need to pass to feel better about myself. Here's hoping for good news.

A Walk Down Memory Lane

Re-visiting the blog - and by extension, posting this entry - makes me feel exactly like an alcoholic father. One, who in a whiskey-induced haze of clouded judgement - decides to up and leave his family one day, only to return years later after having being at his lowest ebb, is then bestowed divine clarity on how important family is.

Not that I've had any experience being an alcoholic, mind you. Never even tasted the stuff. Promise.

So what is it really that brings me back here? Did I have a revelation? Is this, in fact, a stranger typing, having successfully hacked and gained access to an ancient archive of non-specific ramblings? Or have I just plainly lost my mind? Well, between me and you, dear reader - it has always been a private ritual of mine to go through my past writings once or twice a year. Keeps me in touch with my former, younger, more idealistic clueless self, you see. It is a way of reminding myself who I was before I grew up. 

(On a side note: not only have I grown up, but I've also grown sideways, front and back. Go figure)

Reading back my past entries never fails to make me go through a roller coaster of emotions and memories. To be fair, most of them are embarrassing and downright cringey, which would correspond to the vertical drop section of the aforementioned roller coaster analogy. Other times, they induce moments of introspection, and maybe even bring out a chuckle or two. Sometimes, the entries make me go "wait, what?". Like I said, roller coaster.

But this time around, the reason I came back was just to get my muddled thoughts out. I had an itch to write, and neither Facebook nor Twitter was going to cut it. So here I am at my dusty and cobwebbed virtual writing desk, my keyboard clacking away, sentence after sentence rolling out yet I see no clear direction as to where they are headed to. And that's perfectly fine by me.

After all, these are the Scribblings Of An Empty Mind, are they not?