Sunday, January 7, 2018

Graduation is coming and the establishment (aka red tape) requires us to send a truckload of documents to prove that 1. we are Singaporeans, 2. we exist, 3. we graduated, 4. we have attended school etc etc. Oh and 5. we don't have infectious diseases. 

For my O and A level certs, I had to dig through the box where I dump stuff I don't care about - which is interesting considering that those years of study would have been quite useless without the certificates we got at the end. 

In the process I got caught up reading all the things my teachers said about me through the years. 

I'm not kidding when I say I don't remember most of the past. I don't remember what the first few years of med school was like; I barely remember what last week was like, other than reaching the hospital before sunrise and being treated to milo. 

My memories of primary school consist mostly of the fishball noodles and fishballs on a stick I had for recess. Secondary school was tennis and friends, plus random memories like one traumatic visit to a friend's house, and one (not traumatic) lunch when I was told I eat fast. JC was mainly the people (again), literature classes and of course Tahan. I never knew I had so many tears, or so much endurance until tahan. I didn't know I could make friends from the deepest part of my heart until tahan. I didn't know how much I loved nature until, you guessed it, tahan. 

And then med school, where I don't remember anything (big surprise). It's a miracle I remember the definition of cardiomegaly. The way my brain works, I guess it's a miracle I remember my name.

I'm not sure where I am most of the time; why is it that time passes and things happen while I'm in some headspace? I must have been dreaming, drawing, or writing. I'm never 'here', unless I really have to be. 

But back to my teachers. Thank you guys for believing in me even though I was spacing out all the time. Thank you for seeing the good in me when I was doodling through your classes. Thank you for believing I had the potential to do better and do good. 15 year old ying yue was a space head, just like 23 year old yy, but y'all taught her well and gave her wings to fly (above the pass line). Thanks so much. ♥

And I was always an emo kid who was oversensitive and thought too much, just like I am now, but I was always trying to be someone else. These days I'm mostly trying to figure out who I am, rather than trying on different identities. What hasn't changed is the people I love and also my love for doodling. 

Ok ciao for now. 

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