After discovering my love for the public transport over these 6 weeks or so, I have also discovered my nonlove for the public transport during peak hours. It's specifically not the trains/buses themselves as modes of transportation that I dislike, but during these peak hours, the ugliest of the human side is revealed. I honestly cannot comprehend the way some people act, regardless of age, ethnicity or race/religion - whatever. For the convenience of themselves, and perhaps additional comfort, people with a lot of space in the middle of buses/trains just refuse to move in and occupy the empty space. I have missed 3 trains consecutively watching sardines packed at the entrances of the doors and empty spaces in the middle of the carriage. It annoys me deeply. I have people shoving me around, pushing me away, bumping into me, without so much a care that I am exiting/entering in the same direction as well. The problem doesn't lie with me, it lies with the impatience of the person who obviously cannot tell that there is such a thing as follow the flow. These are the gripes of the morning/evening rush hours. Sigh.
On a brighter note, I have completed 3 books, fiction and non-fiction since the start of this sem. I like how there is the deadline looming. Yes, I borrow library books. And this urgency to return the books on time make me read them continuously. It keeps me going. On top of that, there is also this intrinsic motivation to want to finish the novels because it's interesting. I have busied myself on the time spent travelling reading at this rate. You see how much you can accomplish spending such waiting times in productive ways. I was just done with Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami. It's one of his darker books about death and insanity. Reading novels take you through a whole experience of emotions along with the author's words you so voraciously read. I couldn't have imagined myself in the character's role, experiencing the death of 2 of his closest friends. I thought of it, and then I couldn't continue. I didn't even know how I would react. The most logical part of me told me that the sanest thing to do is carry on with life. Because death is not the opposite of life but an innate part of life. However, the reality is that no truth can cure the sorrow we feel from losing a loved one. All we can do is see it through to the end and learn something from it, but what we learn will be no help in facing the next sorrow that comes to us without warning.
Oh, looks like this is quite contrary to the start of my second paragraph - it obviously isn't 'on a brighter note'.
After watching the play put up by USP Productions, I can't wait for Tongues - part of the M1 Fringe Festival. It's a good reward for my consistent studying for Genes and Society. I really want to do well in a Science that I haven't touched before. It's extremely rewarding to understand something on a fresh clean slate. My Physics and Chemistry have pretty much been screwed by the years of misunderstandings and unknowings. I like words. Maybe that's why Biology appealed to my curiosity.
I hope you like words too. Because this is a wordy post.
And, I figured, men are pretty much like women. They form cliques. They move as one. They can't function without the others. They talk about their interests. It's fun being in a clique of guys and girls respectively. I learn a lot on how people function in groups. And I learn a lot about myself functioning alone when I'm without a company. I like the independence and the dependence. Too bad, the commitment to having the best of both worlds means I am a master of none. But that only means that people can survive with the adequate social interactions, and still have the courage to embrace the true person within.
Valentine's Day felt like any other day when I was at home. The moment I went into public spaces, it threw me off. I felt embarrassed for all the flowers/bears/gifts that guys and girls were holding. Weird feeling. But I feel embarrassed because it's... weirdly embarrassing. I'm not the most romantic person, but I am romantic enough to appreciate the idea of romance, but this particular expression of romance is quite the childish/turn off way for me. Weird feelings stirring within. Don't know why. I remembered holding my own bouquet of roses. It felt weird. Conformations of society.
I received chocolates, a rose and a self-baked brownie. I love how thoughtful some people can be. I appreciate these little things - the thought that goes into it rather than the actual gifts themselves. And I haven't been the most giving of all people. Why oh why. Maybe I'm innately individualistic and selfish. You know how some people say they don't mind not receiving because they don't give out anything? But it feels good receiving something, as much you anyone would like to deny. It's time to start giving, friend. I shall start investing in creating special relationships, where you feel special being with me. No motives. Just the special season of Jac for special people like you.
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