2006-07-29
Peaceful Easy Feeling
So this is what blogs are for. To come home to, to write in, to think with.
I wanted to be able to ring a teammate up and look through the day's events. To talk about it, to find some kind of closure. But I suppose this is as good as it gets. Not that I mind it.
It seems fitting that the Nationals should have come to an end the way it has - with yes, a defeat. It is not for me to say how deserving it was, there are too many opinions already, and I won't. But it made me feel human again. Human, and un-invincible.
Admittedly, telling Siobhan, and then Josiah and Bel that I wasn't crying with tears streaming down my face was stupid. But I was convinced I wasn't crying.
I cried only when I couldn't resist breaking down into my teammate's embrace. I don't know why or how I hugged Fish (I think I initiated it), and I don't know if I should feel embarrassed about it. I don't know what he thought of it, or what the others, whom I know were watching, thought of it, but that was the best, best thing that helped me Darn, I didn't want to have to cry. I planned it all, from the moment the words "Raffles Institution" fell from Vishal's mouth, that I would take this with utmost grace and poise.
How do we take defeats? How should we take defeats? I believe we acknowledge them and take them in to mull over and synthesize in our own time, and meanwhile move on to think about something else.
Like how many nice things actually happened to me today.
Defeats always make me more aware of the world around me, like I said, more human.
Nice thing #1: Seng. Who spotted me after his soccer training and came to join me in waiting for my dad. With a drink. So we sat and whiled away some time, he with his coke, and me with his complimentary iced lemon tea. And me thinking what a nice friend I had.
Nice thing #2: Ailene, Annabel, Josiah, Kaisiong came down to watch us, taking time off their already packed schedules. It was awfully nice to see them there, especially Ailene and Kaisiong.
Nice thing #3: Josiah, who really began this whole Australian way of coping with not-so-bright situations, by offering the inside joke about his presence being the cause of our defeat. His perfunctory attitude, reticent smirks and soft voice, I realize, are always there to take the low out of things. While we joke about his slight stature, really, there's nothing slight about his presence.
Nice thing #4: My classmates turned up. Siobhan, Miaoqin and Jonathan took especial effort to turn up for the debate. I don't know what to say, really, except to smile.
Nice thing #5: A friend called to inform me of her dilemma: going for an out-of-town day trip with her family, or turning up for the debate, as promised. Of course, the false dilemma wasn't the issue. The fact was, we had that conversation.
Nice thing #6: I suspect Fish was doing a little bit of a follow-up after the incident, frequently checking on my mental health as we left the building.
Nice thing #6: The supporters/seniors not-so-subtle way of making time for the team to be together. Their objectives? I don't know. But they had our interest at heart. Or maybe (if i may, most narcissistically as well as depreciatingly, say so) mine - because they knew how much the team meant to me, even if it did nothing to the rest.
*
Things jump back into normalcy easily. We laughed at adel's unconscious comicalness, the Turkish Ice-cream man who made fools of all of us, Fish's lame jokes, Yarn's usual sarcasm, Jack's lameness.
But undercurrents of broodiness, sulkiness and discomfort don't disappear. My true defeat in this debating career is in never coming to the point where our team was actually close enough to deal with any of this. I cant help but to remember what Mr Tan WJ told me a long time ago - wait till you lose, then you'll see. You'll see. We lost.
But he wasn't right on one thing. To say that these undercurrents are sinking ships would be an exaggeration even my brand of rhetoric couldn't pull off. They're quiet, and I'm grateful (although sometimes I'd rather suffer the full brunt of angst than to second guess the broody looks). Won't do nothing, I wash my hands off this affair. If Mohammed and the mountains must unite, then it will be the mountains that will have to come to Mohammed, who doesn't know shit about climbing mountains.
And so, each positive strikes off a negative, and each multiplication of affection is levelled by the return of division, and all that I have left is a peaceful, easy feeling. That I don't know what to make of.
nothing ever happens at 8:17 p.m.