The school day was per usual: filled with sparks of bliss and a crushing mentality of gloom. As you type away at home, hair fresh with newly-bought shampoo and fitted in a pair of clothes much more pleasant than what is permitted at school, fatigue hits you. A rush of productivity grants you the ability to finish an essay, and soon enough, a sluggish cloud drips over you, consuming every muscle in your body until your brain that was once oozing with creativity fails to produce thoughts again. Eyes drooping, you turn off the once-soothing music that has now turned into repetitive tunes, every lyric now suddenly being acknowledged. Silence echoes throughout the room. And yet, there is still a pile of work on the edge of your desk, begging to be completed.
People always say to romanticize school in order to thrive in it. But really, all we do is hole ourselves up in our rooms, stare blankly at the computer, and type away. Type away until our fingers are sore, our back begins to ache, and our mind turns lethargic. There’s no point in romanticizing such mundane tasks that we have to get through, though this may differ for some. We may flick through pictures on Pinterest of aesthetically pleasing posts about studying, but it’s just a momentary pleasure. It’s all about the way the light hits the books, the candle that may be flickering in the frame or the dim setting that makes it calming. Reality is always a stark contrast to what is seen online. While I do like to indulge myself in lifestyle YouTube videos, childishly obsessing over the montages and Instagram-worthy foods. It’s not something in my grasp: it’s all just a screen of moving pixels that I may never get the chance to live in. Envy drips like cold slush.
As I’m still crawling around trying to navigate my way through life, I’ve never experienced any outstanding highs and lows. Even the ones I’ve been through, I can’t exactly classify them as my pivotal moments in life. It’s all just been one steady journey, speeding through life like the flatline of a heart monitor. Although this may seem healthy, it feels monotonous, tedious, and uneventful. I’ve never done anything spontaneous, nor have I lived to the extremes. But then again, my definition of spontaneous is not exactly considered so. All my life’s efforts have been diverted into school, and I’m still uncertain if I’ll ever get to reap the fruits of my labor. This uncertainty is what’s pulling me back; making me delve into my pool of thoughts as I helplessly try to resurface from the heated rush of manipulated beliefs. When things get quiet and I become conscious of my feelings, the thoughts would often come swirling in like one anxious stampede. The ability to sort them out becomes unachievable, and as time passes, each gnawing feeling grows more dramatic than the last. It doesn’t make my heart race with anxiety, nor does it make my breath hitch from time to time. A different feeling emerges: one similar to mud, as it clouds my vision and leaves unease poking at my chest as the multitude of questions that rush through me are left unanswered.
Something that I always ponder as a factor to my uninteresting coming-of-age story is where I reside. Living in Penang has both been a blessing and drawback; growing up here, the environment that it provides is safe and tight-knit. However, as time advances and curiosity peaks, I tend to wonder about the lives that could’ve been outside of this island, perhaps in a booming metropolis or quiet town where trees are reborn every season. As Penang is literally an island, there isn’t much space for variety as options for a day’s escapade are limited to exploring Georgetown until the constant sweltering heat gets the best of you. As I watch others move on to new moments of their life, away from here and the memories within it, I sometimes dread the life I now lead. There is no incentive to gather with friends other than catching up with school work and tuition. Break times just feel unproductive as guilt propels me to work. Opportunities here are limited and I often delve into the what if’s. What if I grew up somewhere different? What if I grew up with different people surrounding me? Would I be happier, or would I have lost myself? Comparing movies and shows, I think about the life I could’ve lived; another coming-of-age story that could’ve been me. From time to time, I tend to drift away from the present, and insert myself into a fictional situation where the nostalgic rumble of trams, the feasibility of daily walks around the city where heat isn’t a worry, the excitement of dressing up for no reason and the spontaneity of unplanned outings encapsulate me. I find comfort in these thoughts that stray me away from what is really there; what is in front of me.
Those who have played an immense role in shaping me into the person I am to this day are my family and friends. Growing up in an Asian household, I am grateful to have been brought up in such a culture where we respect the meaning of togetherness and hold suitable morals that aid us in navigating our way through life. In terms of my friends, they are like the different seasons, and the emotions that each accompany with them: a both warm and cold presence. While friendship may be comforting and essential to tunneling through life, it twists the mind, like when one helplessly tries to untie a knot or solve a Rubix cube. Our relationships are forever changing as each day advances: nothing is set in stone and uncertainty will always linger at our backs. It’s like shaking an 8-ball; the answers may differ, but are constantly recycled. There’s no losses or additions: it’s just one loop of never-ending emotions. In order to cope with such unpredictable changes, I’ve come to see that, while this may seem cliche, communication is what ties everything together, and could be the make or break of any relationship. Without closure, each step forward within a friendship will feel like trudging through mud, sinking deeper into its slimy grasp, and in the end, there is nothing left to hold onto. Throughout my school life, I’ve always been bombarded with the ‘advice’ of “Choose your friend group wisely” or “Befriend those who benefit you”. And while this concept may apply in a fair amount of situations, I’ve found that despite the brutally obvious differences I share with some people, we are still brought together under certain circumstances. So, at least one good thing about school is being able to be with friends, because if not life would be even more unbearable than it is now.
Sometimes, I observe those around me; ponder on their struggles and what their presence means to me. I wonder if those close to me have grown up too fast, or are experiencing things too soon despite their young age. I wonder where I’ll be in the future, and whether or not the people around me now will still be present then. Therefore, as I enter the supposed ‘peak of my youth’, I will try to no longer wander in a fantasy created to entertain my lost hopes and desires. And as I barrel through whatever the future chooses to present me with, who knows, maybe the lingering cloud of thoughts will eventually cease its pestering.