Dear Friend 1

A series of letters written to an imaginary friend. The arrow of time points towards all directions. Thought about writing this after watching The Perks of being a Wallflower, and also after my failed attempt to write daily. I don't have many days left, I must continue writing.

Dear Friend,

There are some words that could never be spoken beyond the mind. I am a person who likes to imagine conversations with other people and myself. I fantasise a lot, and in that imaginary world I lose my senses. I lose them in the sense that I fail to reflect on my faults and misdeeds. I have become too satisfied in my comfort zone. I wish to be a better person, really, that's all I wish for. But I have not been active in making changes. So, instead of fantasising and conjuring up meaningless conversations. I shall write to you my friend. I hope you will find these letters interesting. I hope that I will gain insight to myself. I say that there are some words that could never be spoken beyond the mind for many reasons, and my mind has already produced many before I could write them down, and that in itself is a reason. The first is, I don't really have a friend to whom I can confide everything to. Sometimes I almost feel that my friends care about me, but do not see me as the most trustworthy person. I am always willing to go out and help my friends, but rarely do my friends seek me for help, and when I find out about their troubles when they have worsened or resolved, I can't help but have the selfish thought that I could have helped them in one way or another. It just makes me sad that my closest friends probably don't see me as a person who will simply be a listener, just a friend.

So I shall begin.

It was on wednesday, after the chemistry and economics exams, that I suddenly felt the urge to watch a movie and have some rest. The current examinations haven't been going so well. I studied hard alright, but I made stupid mistakes such as the HBr thingy. For some reason, I couldn't perform well in the math paper. I couldn't do simple, differentiation and integration questions, and probably would have difficulty achieving a 6 this time. But I am not frustrated. I know I will do well next time. I will be more assured. During revision, I have relied more on thorough understanding compared to past revisions. I believe I have improved.

So what was this movie? It's The Perks of being a Wallflower.  Firstly, I wasn't interested in the movie because of Emma Watson. I do think she is an interesting actor, and she is acutely aware of how people have a wrong impression of her because of the roles she plays in films. I believe they are called pseudo something relationships. The reason I felt like watching this was because I saw part of the trailer on television, and it seemed to portray a type of teenage life that I was unfamiliar to but apparently, or maybe it's just my impression, common to many teenagers and has a theme with resonates with them.

The film is about this awkward teenager, oh darn, I almost forgot his name, yes he is Charlie. Charlie is not the sociable type, like me, but he was able to find a group of close friends. The party scene is something I am totally unfamiliar, all that drinking and stuff. Charlie almost immediately likes Sam, who is played by Emma. But it is a kind of infatuation or crush that seems rather innocent. It could have purely due to appearance. I have never understood my infatuations by the way, and I try to keep them out of my head, they really have a detrimental effect to my perception of reality. The thing is, Charlie and I could be alike in some ways beyond just being unsociable and awkward. Charlie doesn't really know how to strike up a conversation and relies on the interactiveness of the other in any social conversation. He likes Sam in a way that I think is similar but probably isn't. I am rather superficial I think. Oh hell yes I am. Nope I was wrong, Charlie liked same more than just for appearance I guess, he liked the way she was able to deal with the "bad stuff", something which he couldn't do even after confessing his love for Sam. Charlie was there for his friends, and I hope to be that kind of person too. I guess I just want to feel needed. I wish to feel useful to my friends. It is probably selfish, yes, it is hard to argue that anyone could be totally altruistic at all, but it is a feeling that I really yearn for. Charlie fought, listened and loved his friends, I just wished for my friends to see me as a person who would be that kind of quiet listener. In fact you my friend, you bear the characteristics of the type of friend I want to be. You just listen and let me dig deeper into my feelings, allowing me to be free in my expression and letting me find myself, even in depression. I wish to be that kind of friend. Charlie, he was needed by almost everyone around him. He offered help to his sister, he gave support to Patrick when he needed it most, he let Mary enjoy the feeling of being in love with someone, and made Sam realise that she deserves better. Learning about Charlie's pains and dark past was probably the most interesting part of the movie. Charlie tried to hide his feelings of hatred, because the more hatred he felt, the more guilt he felt. He did all this because he was a considerate and kind person. He put everyone's burdens before himself I guess. As I reflect on my own actions, I tend to think that I have been a nice guy. But immediately I am warned that I am probably not such a person, though I really wish to be such a person. There are probably people around me who experience hardships, and by the way I am interacting with my friends now, I will never be sensitive to them, I will never be the kind of empathetic friend.

The movie ended with a tinge of melancholy that got me thinking about my soon ending junior college life. What have I learned about others or from others? How would my jc life appear on the silverscreen? Incredibly boring I guess. I have a particular infatuation that I am ashamed to speak of, even to you my friend, even to you. And I hate that I have this infatuation because it is extremely superficial. It is extremely superficial. I just hate that. I fantasise and do "bad" things and I just hate that I am reduced to such superficiality. Charlie's innocence, maybe that's not the right word. The purity of Charlie's love for Sam is something that I cannot relate to because I haven't experience anything like that in school. In a way I wish I had experienced it. But I have always had the belief that it should come naturally. Though I seriously doubt that I could confess to a girl. Haha, I am such a coward right? What would you do my friend? What would you do if you liked someone for a long time, without ever knowing why you liked that person? What would you do if you also suddenly feel like you like another person, for obvious superficial reasons?

The emotion that resonated strongly in me is the feeling of nostalgia. Sure, there are regrets, I should have worked hard in everything. I should have stayed and played basketball, believing and having the strong conviction that it is my passion and I will improve. I should have participated more to gain more in NCC. I shouldn't have backed out from the prefects' camp. I should have made it a meaningful experience. My jc life is going to end, and I will miss my friends so much. I hope they will miss me, because I am honestly not sure. I felt like I have accomplished nothing. That's why I wish I could shout to the younger me, and warn him that his passivity will kill him.

And then came thursday. I have a serious procrastination problem now. But I could get rid of it if I focus enough. It has been a long time since I was able to find sudden inspiration for language and writing, I wish I could get hold of my essays in primary school and see the kid I had been. When I look at photos of my younger self, I always see two paths. One which directly led to me, the other a more passionate and interesting individual, perhaps more popular, successful in academics and sports and having more friends. But if that path was taken, how can I ever say that that was a different me, not simply an indifferent life of someone else?

And then came friday. I performed reallly badly on the mathematics test again. When I get back the test paper, I will reflect and work hard to improve my score. I played basketball with friends, and got a really bad cram on my left leg. I can still feel the tension now. I am quite offended and annoyed that someone said that it occurs 90% or everytime, as if I am born inferior. But I am not, and I shall improve my physique because I am disatisfied with it. And after an interesting moive, I walked home. Before the movie, I was speaking to the bulldozer and coincidentally he asked if I had watched the perks of being a wallflower. I get these kind of coincidences rather often. After I become aware of something, it doesn't become indifferent to my existence any more and likes to jump into my awareness more often that it previously appeared to be. Anyway, even before the movie I was talking to bulldozer and the lobster about how most people die without knowing to the best of our species' knowledge, the nature of the world we live in.

This is the point where I suddenly realise that the quiet reflection upon seeing the brilliant blue sky actually happened on wednesday. As I was walking home, I realised that I could identify the the sky as bearing my favourite colour. I am very poor at identifying my favourites by the way, and I find it weird that many are able to tell what they like most. When asked about my favourite anything, I would say that I enjoy multiple things and I had a particular affection for each of those things for different kinds of reasons and emotions. There is no such thing as a favourite for me. But that colour of the sky that day, I just loved it. I was thinking about many things. I should get into the habit of jotting them down quickly right and writing about them on the day itself so that I don't forget. But the thing that I can still remember thinking about and now I have to go back a paragraph to add an interesting fact........ Just hold on my friend! Oh in fact that backtracking made me realise that my thoughts also drifted to religion. Maybe starting a new paragraph would be better.

So first I realised how many people didn't have the luxury like me to think and philosophise about things. Many people are just suffering, some are born without the capacity to show intelligence, and others are just concerned about surviving each day, that thinking about the so called great problems of the world and the meaning of our existence become laughable. I tried to make a point in my essay that it is knowledge that gives us a sense of who we are. But isn't that a joke to those who don't have such luxury to think about the problems of knowledge? A person who has understood nothing about the world could be happy, and he will live and die. Who am I to judge that he has not lived a meaningful life? Who am I to say that he has led a sad life? These questions continue to bug me. At the end of my existence, what I consider important to myself is not important to the universe. The universe remains apathetic to my sentiments and I will just die having lived a life not decided by myself, died, and decomposed without ever knowing, the fundamental questions about the universe, knowledge and our existence and consciousness. This idea of philosophy, metaphysical thinking being a luxury led me to think that faith is a luxury. There are many problems in religion that I have considered. I was quite a Christian when I was a child, but I actually read the bible like it was mythology, and hence my favourite book in the bible is the the book of Revelations. Then I started thinking, why would God have to create anything in the first place? Why did he create a hierachy of beings? Why did he not make it innate for everyone to be aware of his existence? Why should Christianity be centred around the Jews? Why would God support anyone in war? Why didn't Jesus appear in China? Why are there so many religions? The tracing of these younger questions led me to the slightly older reminder of a very apt cartoon. The Eskimo asked the missionary, "If I don't believe in your God now that you have told me about it, I would be punished?" "Yes", the missionary replied. "Then why did you tell me about it?" The Eskimo asked. This perfectly describes of the irony of the missionary's actions. Oh by the way, I also thought a lot of how God would deal with people who didn't believe him or didn't get to know him. That's when I reached the conclusion that it really doesn't matter which religion you believe in if there really is a God. Back to the irony part. When someone preaches about the glory of god, and tells them to believe that this almighty being will bring salvation upon them, it can be ironic because the preacher does not live in the suffering of the one being preached to. Tell anyone who is struggling to survive that there is a god who cares about them. Tell anyone who is born without the ability to conceive thoughts that there is a god who gives a shit about them. To have faith is to have luxury, that is the weak meaning and realisation. But faith is admirable and a leap when one has experienced unimaginable suffering but has held on fervently with the belief that there is the almighty god, and that there is always hope. It is a leap which I cannot make, I can merely state a preference. Sure, I rather there be a god, so that I can ask him about the universe after I die.

And today, I stumbled upon the past which I didn't know about. Cries through the phone hinted of it, hypocrisy in speech revealed it, words from others spoke of it and more hypocrisy ensued and strongly suggested it. Living far apart, the stubborns' relationship was high on tension. One stubborn had a beautiful dream that was apparently torn apart. The stubborn said hypocritical things which she probably forgot but the retard will never forget. The retard despises hypocrisy above all else. Living apart, the stubborns never really got to understand each other and resolve tensions. Apparently life wasn't so easy economically for the stubborns. They tried hard, but the retard felt a sense of disgust somehow after seeing those documents. The retard witnessed a series of written prayers in poorly written english, (can you imagine, living here for 11 years and not knowing how to spell the name of the district you live in, without any good sense of grammar, and a poor command of english even till this day. Even worse at Chinese, jumbled speech that has annoyed and affected the Retard's command for the language), asking god to give the other stubborn interviews, jobs, telling god how that stubborn has had much experience in the industry. The retard was appalled and disgusted. He realised, as he had realised before, that neither of the stubborns have thought seriously about the existence of god, and used the notion of god as a wishing well. Using god as a wishing well for mundane demands. The stubborn expressed stupid sentimentality without realising that she wasn't thinking hard enough, just being in her own world. The retard should feel guilt and remorse, and he will probably be feeling that way when he reads this again, but the thing is that this is exactly the way he felt, the retard had no sympathy whatsoever. Perhaps the stubborn had much suffering, no she had a great deal of suffering. But it was the poor sense of english, which demonstrated a lack of willingness to seek improvement and improve, the stupid demands from god and stupid wish that god may bless us that irritated the retard. When the retard saw a video of him wishing for acceptance into good schools during his birthday. Affected by the stubborns perhaps, the younger retard failed to realise the hypocrisy of his actions, and felt even more repulsed by the video. The stubborns never knew the retard well and probably won't. The retard experienced a life that gave him a critical insight towards anything that could be retained in his mind. This sense of criticality caused him to not be the friend he wished to be.

I am sorry that I have to end on such a depressing note my friend. I shall conjure up identities for you perhaps. But I am glad that I have finished writing my very first letter to you.

Thanks.

Regards,
The Retard.