Saturday, August 11, 2018

Seventh month. Hungry ghost festival.

Our wards are suddenly emptying.

Thursday, August 9, 2018

How do you describe this feeling?

Yes, how do you describe this feeling in the interim before my team returns and I can stop guarding our Starbucks and we can start seeing our patients (don't ask).

Is it 'I don't want to be left behind'

Is it 'I'm afraid we are no longer who and what we used to be, but isn't that a good thing? We've grown.'

Is it 'We should be content in ourselves, not look to others to fill that discontent'

Is it 'I want to be a better person'

Is it

Oops they're back

Sunday, August 5, 2018

If the worst comes to the worst, at least it will be a final rest. 


I am afraid that I am becoming someone I don't like. And I guess the cure for that is awareness. 


You kept asking us to be better. To be perfect. We grew up with these expectations, unreasonable as they were, and what kind of humans do you think that made us? When we turn around and expect the same of you, why are you so surprised? When you look at what you've created, why are you so surprised? 


Whenever I get really scared, I just have to remind myself that if the worst came to the worst, at the very least there is peace beyond. 

Wednesday, August 1, 2018

And I really think you shouldn't say something like that.

What do you mean, we can feel the presence of the deceased around us? That as long as we remember them they are still around?

Because I can't feel him. I can't feel him at all, ok? And even if I 'let go of my anxiety' and become cool as a chillin' cucumber, if I still can't 'sense his presence', are you going to take responsibility for my heart, crushed again? Are you? Are you? And how can you? That's right. You can't. You fucking can't. So don't say things like that goddamn it.

Thursday, July 26, 2018

I realised it is a lot easier to miss someone, than love someone. Maybe that's just me.


Managed to grab some sleep during last night's call, but everytime I dozed off I would dream that I was getting scolded by D for missing his call, or that a nurse was calling me to do something.

And then I'd get woken up by someone actually calling me for something (please for the love of God never ask for cough syrup at 2am unless you're coughing your lung out then it's not cough syrup you need).

And somewhere in the early AM I started to wonder which parts were dreamt and which parts were real. Kept looking down at my clipboard to read what I wrote, and gave up trying to remember the things I didn't write down.

Pretty weird when at one point I honestly couldn't tell whether someone had actually called me or whether I dreamed someone had called me.

I think 36 hour calls are bad, but I hear SGH GS has 40 hour calls.


Tuesday, July 17, 2018

I realized all my 'why's were addressed to someone, or something, or some huge celestial listening ear encompassing the universe... Something like that. I wanted an answer from this being.

Even if it was 'just because I felt like it' - even if it was something stupid like that, or something malicious - 'because I enjoyed the thought of it' - I wanted an answer, a reason, an explanation to the horror and apparent meaninglessness of death, and thereby, of life. I wanted to know why a conclusion could be so illogical, a last paragraph so inconclusive, extinguishing my last faint hope that there is a meaning to all of this and a reason for everything, even suffering, and perhaps beauty in this suffering.

But there was no reply. Of course there was no reply.

More than when I was in that flipping car, more than when I stood before a bone white urn, I felt like I was staring into a completely empty abyss from which there would never be, and could never be anything approaching an answer. And staring into that while I ask 'why' and being answered with resounding, echoing, empty silence, is one of the most painful things in my life.

So where are you? Silence. What happens next? Silence. Do ghosts exist? Do souls?

Monday, July 16, 2018