24 March (Saturday) 11pm
Rain. Rain. Rain. I get off 67 and walk with my umbrella raised above my head. A way ahead of me lies a man, walking along the same lane, at the same time, under the same rainy sky. A few questions of possibility go through my head, and I decide, might as well.
I run over. "Hey. Do you need this?" The man is pleasantly surprised, smiles and says "Thank you". He takes the umbrella and holds it for me, a custom I'm not particularly familiar with. I suddenly feel more like the one being given a favour than the one giving one.
"Your good name, Sir?" Yet another phrase I never hear in Singapore. It feels nice to be treated so politely, a giant change from the hectic pace of life. "Uh, just Herrick. Your name?"
"My name is Ravi." Ravi. "And you're from?" "India." The wonders of what colonialization can do to you. I wonder if I shall ever hear such English in South Africa. "What are you working as?"
"Oh? I'm still studying, actually. I study at NTU. What about you?" A man of his size studying at NTU? Probably Master's or something. "Oh, I'm just from secondary school." "...second year?" "uh, secondary school. ACSI."
"Just a question. What're you studying right now, Ravi?" Any chance to find out anything new about the future. "I'm studying my PhD right now in fiber optics."
"...PhD? Uh, if it doesn't offend you, how old are you right now, Ravi?"
"27." "...27?!" "Is there something weird?" I began to count the years, thinking that that was the issue.
"I did work for one year, actually." "Ah..." "Well, Herrick. Nice to meet you. Thanks for the umbrella."
When I moved on myself then I realized I wanted to ask how the heck he can study for 8 years straight what with all the financial issues. But alas, I can only speculate now as to how he has done so. Scholarships? Rich families? Eternally working part-time? Who knows.
A simple umbrella in the rain. A simple story of a man named Ravi. A simple meeting in life that will never come across again.
I don't know if meeting Spencer Chan has given me any new insights in life, but I do know that meeting people his way is more interesting than any planned meeting will be.
And life goes on.
Monday, March 26, 2007
Monday, March 19, 2007
Three Men, Three Paths
11th March, approximately 1.30-1.40. On my way to SJAB Camp, I catch a taxi. Skoda brand, unfortunately I'm not nearly good enough with cars to know their model, nor do I remember the plate number. It's one of those white taxis that aren't Mercedes. The taxi driver looks 30 or so, and acts the part, given the lack confidence he had in himself the moment I asked him to go to ACSI. In addition, he just got his taxi license recently.
The taxi driver introduces himself to me, even showing me a namecard. What taxi driver needs to advertise himself as a taxi driver, so much that he needs namecards? What surprised me further was what was said on the namecard:
Spencer Chan (Pianist).
Mobile: ---- ---- Email: ----------------------
Piano Solo, Group Performances
Recording Services
Music Teacher.
What's a pianist doing in a taxi? Sudden loss of work? Somewhat -- Spencer said that he no longer worked 6 out of 7 days, so he had to find revenue through some other means. Just so happened that he saw this car model one day and decided - hey, neat car. Why don't I take it? So he joined the company and drove a taxi model that he liked. But shouldn't he have other backup ideas instead of just walking along randomly to see cars? How long has he worked in this industry? 30 full years. He was 50+ by then.
Spencer continued to talk rather enthusiastically about his pianist job, the stuff he does, the studio he lives in, the equipment he owned, and also showed me pictures on his handphone, while continuing to drive. It's particularly fascinating to be able to strike up a conversation with a complete stranger, and be able to learn about their lives, seeing surprises and on. I certainly didn't expect this 30-looking taxi driver to be a part-time taxi driver who's actually been a pianist for 30 years, starting from the age of 20-something.
At ACSI, I posed him a single question.
"Thanks for all that. Just a question, how long have you been driving this taxi?"
"Around one month."
"And you've been introducing yourself to every single person you've met thus far?"
"I call it networking."
Even as a taxi driver, he doesn't let any opportunity for any possible performance go off.
I suppose he wouldn't have minded if I put his email on my blog, considering that it is, after all, networking, but I think I'll just keep it safe.
------------------------------------------------------------
15th March, approximately 2.15-2.45pm.
I go up to the Serangoon MRT Convenience Store, while patiently waiting for Kuang. The magazines outside the store are completely open, as if inviting me to touch and read them. I take a copy of GameAxis, and move to the side in the case where someone else wants to read the magazines. Roughly five seconds later, a women comes out of the store, taking back the book, giving a menacing look at me. I ask "I can't read it?" and was replied with a prompt "Not only can't you read it, you moved out of my sight! Are you trying to steal or something?" Apparently she was the shopkeeper, and my moving away made her lose sight of me for that short moment.
"Sorry, ma'am, I was mistaken."
"Were you trying to steal from my shop?"
"No, ma'am. Sorry."
I move away towards the exit, and turn around. She is still staring at me. I move out, and wait at the bus stop for 15 minutes. Meanwhile I contemplate what just happened, decide I was an idiot and laughed off the situation.
She comes out, and looks at me. Then she asks if I was the one from just now.
"Yes, I was."
"Were you trying to steal from my shop?"
"Ma'am, I've said it just now. I didn't."
"How do I know? You moved away just like that. You know I've had so many people stealing magazines from my shop that..."
"Ma'am, honestly, it's because of your arrangement of the magazines. They're outside and open, and..."
"What does this have to do with you, harh? I am the shopkeeper here. I can place the magazines wherever I want. You got something with that?"
"Ma'am, it's because of that that people are stealing magazines and misunderstandings like this occur..."
"I am the shopkeeper. I place the magazines wherever I want. You have no business in the placement of my magazines. I don't want to see you anymore."
"...Ma'am, I haven't come here in one year..."
"I don't care. I don't want to see you anymore. If I see you come around again I'll call the police on you."
"..."
She leaves. I get rather pissed and wanted to incite her into calling the police just for the experience and the fact that I'll probably get off scott free. But alas, Boey's birthday party is a more important issue than getting into trouble for fun, and I decide against it.
-------------------------------------------------
A child walks along the deck of a large ship. Twilight shines down ever so dimly. On one side of the ship, the horizon is of a city of glistering gold. On the other side of the ship, are the lights of ships in a vast and open sea. I look at the sky on each end. The city faces an empty sky. The ships stare up to a starry night.
The wind blows against his jacket, and it nearly flies off. Catching it, he decides to take another look at the two sides, and makes a realization. The number of shimmers are the same. Stars, after all, can be speckled along a black ocean as they can in a silent sky. This simple and trivial realization makes him smile, and he walks against the wind towards the doors back to his cabin. The doors open up, and all the cold air rushes out. The boy clutches at his jacket, and walks through. The doors close in on him.
Silence.
The taxi driver introduces himself to me, even showing me a namecard. What taxi driver needs to advertise himself as a taxi driver, so much that he needs namecards? What surprised me further was what was said on the namecard:
Spencer Chan (Pianist).
Mobile: ---- ---- Email: ----------------------
Piano Solo, Group Performances
Recording Services
Music Teacher.
What's a pianist doing in a taxi? Sudden loss of work? Somewhat -- Spencer said that he no longer worked 6 out of 7 days, so he had to find revenue through some other means. Just so happened that he saw this car model one day and decided - hey, neat car. Why don't I take it? So he joined the company and drove a taxi model that he liked. But shouldn't he have other backup ideas instead of just walking along randomly to see cars? How long has he worked in this industry? 30 full years. He was 50+ by then.
Spencer continued to talk rather enthusiastically about his pianist job, the stuff he does, the studio he lives in, the equipment he owned, and also showed me pictures on his handphone, while continuing to drive. It's particularly fascinating to be able to strike up a conversation with a complete stranger, and be able to learn about their lives, seeing surprises and on. I certainly didn't expect this 30-looking taxi driver to be a part-time taxi driver who's actually been a pianist for 30 years, starting from the age of 20-something.
At ACSI, I posed him a single question.
"Thanks for all that. Just a question, how long have you been driving this taxi?"
"Around one month."
"And you've been introducing yourself to every single person you've met thus far?"
"I call it networking."
Even as a taxi driver, he doesn't let any opportunity for any possible performance go off.
I suppose he wouldn't have minded if I put his email on my blog, considering that it is, after all, networking, but I think I'll just keep it safe.
------------------------------------------------------------
15th March, approximately 2.15-2.45pm.
I go up to the Serangoon MRT Convenience Store, while patiently waiting for Kuang. The magazines outside the store are completely open, as if inviting me to touch and read them. I take a copy of GameAxis, and move to the side in the case where someone else wants to read the magazines. Roughly five seconds later, a women comes out of the store, taking back the book, giving a menacing look at me. I ask "I can't read it?" and was replied with a prompt "Not only can't you read it, you moved out of my sight! Are you trying to steal or something?" Apparently she was the shopkeeper, and my moving away made her lose sight of me for that short moment.
"Sorry, ma'am, I was mistaken."
"Were you trying to steal from my shop?"
"No, ma'am. Sorry."
I move away towards the exit, and turn around. She is still staring at me. I move out, and wait at the bus stop for 15 minutes. Meanwhile I contemplate what just happened, decide I was an idiot and laughed off the situation.
She comes out, and looks at me. Then she asks if I was the one from just now.
"Yes, I was."
"Were you trying to steal from my shop?"
"Ma'am, I've said it just now. I didn't."
"How do I know? You moved away just like that. You know I've had so many people stealing magazines from my shop that..."
"Ma'am, honestly, it's because of your arrangement of the magazines. They're outside and open, and..."
"What does this have to do with you, harh? I am the shopkeeper here. I can place the magazines wherever I want. You got something with that?"
"Ma'am, it's because of that that people are stealing magazines and misunderstandings like this occur..."
"I am the shopkeeper. I place the magazines wherever I want. You have no business in the placement of my magazines. I don't want to see you anymore."
"...Ma'am, I haven't come here in one year..."
"I don't care. I don't want to see you anymore. If I see you come around again I'll call the police on you."
"..."
She leaves. I get rather pissed and wanted to incite her into calling the police just for the experience and the fact that I'll probably get off scott free. But alas, Boey's birthday party is a more important issue than getting into trouble for fun, and I decide against it.
-------------------------------------------------
A child walks along the deck of a large ship. Twilight shines down ever so dimly. On one side of the ship, the horizon is of a city of glistering gold. On the other side of the ship, are the lights of ships in a vast and open sea. I look at the sky on each end. The city faces an empty sky. The ships stare up to a starry night.
The wind blows against his jacket, and it nearly flies off. Catching it, he decides to take another look at the two sides, and makes a realization. The number of shimmers are the same. Stars, after all, can be speckled along a black ocean as they can in a silent sky. This simple and trivial realization makes him smile, and he walks against the wind towards the doors back to his cabin. The doors open up, and all the cold air rushes out. The boy clutches at his jacket, and walks through. The doors close in on him.
Silence.
Sunday, March 11, 2007
Breaktime
In a few hours' time, I'll be leaving for SJAB March Camp. This on the first Sunday of the Term 1 Break. Yesterday I had to go for my Grandpa's birthday party, today I go for March Camp, Wednesday I return, Thursday my only 'free' day, and Fri-Sun is a so-called-relaxing-yet-similarly-boring cruise on board the Superstar Virgo.
Life in SJAB has become somewhat stressful because given how the AA FAC team goes training at every possible opportunity, I end up finding myself handling the scholars AND the Sec 1s either singlehandedly, or at most with 2 other S4s/Y5s, teachers not included. What's the problem in this? Mr. Alvin Tan has a tendency to disappear on me when I need him most, and at times in my face as well, leaving me single-handed. Not to mean that it's his fault for leaving me alone or anything, but being single-handed when you suddenly find out that BOTH the Sec 1s and Scholars have not been briefed in regards to March Camp is a very distressing thing when you realize that you're the only Sec 4 managing two rooms at once.
March Camp... don't get me started on it. I sincerely hope that all goes well.
-------------------------------------------
Have you ever wondered how much life would change had you done something just a little differently in life?
Three years ago, I was particularly enthusiastic in regards to joining FAC. I knew I could do it, and I knew it would be interesting. Then around November 21 to 23, they called me and asked if I could make it for the FAC Camp. I refused, for reasons explained in the November 2004 Archives, assuming you can bear reading the extremely hyper and trivial musings I had back then. Fast forward to now, where the AA Team is JAng, Ezra, JYu, Swami, and Chris I. The staff sergeants are JAng, JYu and Ezra. The ASMs are Ezra and JYu. The CSM is JAng. SJAB is among the only few UYOs where there isn't a single GEP S4 in an important position (Well, arguably I play an important role, but that's very arguably.)
Two years ago, I chose Geography over History and Biology. As such, I was sent to 3.9 instead of 3.10. Who knows what friends I would have lost and what friends I would have gained as a result of this? I'm sure I know at least two, one whom I consider a loss and one whose presence alone would make me feel that 3.9 and 4.9 was a godsend, but alas he goes over to 3.9 and 4.9 as well. Haiz. >_>
Of course, I wasn't the only one who made those choices to reflect on it later. Imagine if Isaac and JK both were in 3/4.10 instead of 3/4.9? All the Isaac/Mong jokes would be gone. Gid would have another person to add to the list (Which is really only one person, but irregardless) of 'people in 3/4.10 who aren't cool'. 4.9 would be that bit more peaceful than it already is.
Have you ever seen the stars at night? In the starless town of Singapore, one needs to make effort to see just a few. But yet, that small amount of stars just look down on us like that. Have you ever noticed that some stars are slightly brighter than others? That some stars are slightly closer to us than others? That some stars are a bit more reddish than others? Simply put, those aren't stars. Those are satellites.
Artificial starlets sent up by men to look down on men. Yet nonetheless, they lay so distant from us, looking at us, as if pondering the exact questions as we do. After all, what person who purely lives in the present has enough time to spare for stargazing? Whenever we look at the star, we aren't looking at the star's present. We're looking at the star's past. Likewise, the star cannot view our present, eternally viewing our past. Imagine if each star were a small mirror capable of reflection far better than they currently do. Imagine if you could see a very small image of yourself in such a celestial mirror. Wouldn't you be seeing your own past before your very eyes, recreated on and on upon every single star in the sky? Would you be able to bear watching the skies, seeing so many different images of yourself at different points of times, doing different things, feeling different emotions, with different people... can you take that much?
Life in SJAB has become somewhat stressful because given how the AA FAC team goes training at every possible opportunity, I end up finding myself handling the scholars AND the Sec 1s either singlehandedly, or at most with 2 other S4s/Y5s, teachers not included. What's the problem in this? Mr. Alvin Tan has a tendency to disappear on me when I need him most, and at times in my face as well, leaving me single-handed. Not to mean that it's his fault for leaving me alone or anything, but being single-handed when you suddenly find out that BOTH the Sec 1s and Scholars have not been briefed in regards to March Camp is a very distressing thing when you realize that you're the only Sec 4 managing two rooms at once.
March Camp... don't get me started on it. I sincerely hope that all goes well.
-------------------------------------------
Have you ever wondered how much life would change had you done something just a little differently in life?
Three years ago, I was particularly enthusiastic in regards to joining FAC. I knew I could do it, and I knew it would be interesting. Then around November 21 to 23, they called me and asked if I could make it for the FAC Camp. I refused, for reasons explained in the November 2004 Archives, assuming you can bear reading the extremely hyper and trivial musings I had back then. Fast forward to now, where the AA Team is JAng, Ezra, JYu, Swami, and Chris I. The staff sergeants are JAng, JYu and Ezra. The ASMs are Ezra and JYu. The CSM is JAng. SJAB is among the only few UYOs where there isn't a single GEP S4 in an important position (Well, arguably I play an important role, but that's very arguably.)
Two years ago, I chose Geography over History and Biology. As such, I was sent to 3.9 instead of 3.10. Who knows what friends I would have lost and what friends I would have gained as a result of this? I'm sure I know at least two, one whom I consider a loss and one whose presence alone would make me feel that 3.9 and 4.9 was a godsend, but alas he goes over to 3.9 and 4.9 as well. Haiz. >_>
Of course, I wasn't the only one who made those choices to reflect on it later. Imagine if Isaac and JK both were in 3/4.10 instead of 3/4.9? All the Isaac/Mong jokes would be gone. Gid would have another person to add to the list (Which is really only one person, but irregardless) of 'people in 3/4.10 who aren't cool'. 4.9 would be that bit more peaceful than it already is.
Have you ever seen the stars at night? In the starless town of Singapore, one needs to make effort to see just a few. But yet, that small amount of stars just look down on us like that. Have you ever noticed that some stars are slightly brighter than others? That some stars are slightly closer to us than others? That some stars are a bit more reddish than others? Simply put, those aren't stars. Those are satellites.
Artificial starlets sent up by men to look down on men. Yet nonetheless, they lay so distant from us, looking at us, as if pondering the exact questions as we do. After all, what person who purely lives in the present has enough time to spare for stargazing? Whenever we look at the star, we aren't looking at the star's present. We're looking at the star's past. Likewise, the star cannot view our present, eternally viewing our past. Imagine if each star were a small mirror capable of reflection far better than they currently do. Imagine if you could see a very small image of yourself in such a celestial mirror. Wouldn't you be seeing your own past before your very eyes, recreated on and on upon every single star in the sky? Would you be able to bear watching the skies, seeing so many different images of yourself at different points of times, doing different things, feeling different emotions, with different people... can you take that much?
Monday, March 05, 2007
Reflections
I still haven't gotten over losing out my place in HCL to others due to a 17-mark difference caused by Zhao Ju.
I still haven't gotten over the fact that others decide to do HCL despite getting a B4 because 'they couldn't care less about a D7 being displayed on my IB cert and because I know I can do it' when I know I care and would do something about it apart from placing my faith in the high heavens and praying that the diceroll turns out as anything lower than 7, the number most commonly thrown (Irony for non-christians, but that's digressing). I still haven't gotten over the fact that unlike the B4 people who got in, I can easily say that I display far more competence in the language than them. Heck lah, I got screwed over in oral for going off-topic probably making them have merits when I have a pass. I'm seriously sick of hearing people taking HCL O-Levels go 'uh... uh... uh...' more than 5 times every time they say something.
I still haven't gotten over the fact that the general who demands that all soldiers prepare for the upcoming war is met with an adjustments in plans, sending him off somewhere else.
I still haven't gotten over the fact that I've suicidal classmates in class thinking it's perfectly fine to die because they have had a good life. I particularly cannot accept that his best friends are doing nothing about that because of such a reason.
I still haven't gotten over the fact that said suicidal classmate doesn't so much as look at the friends who defend his death till their own, instead of being close by whenever they themselves have issues.
I still haven't gotten over the fact that a stranger enters my class because he is disliked by 2/3rds the class, a 33% decrease compared to his own. I also cannot get over the fact that he is egoistically acting as if he was part of the class. Please, there are areas where you belong. If it isn't the other class, it isn't this class either. Keep looking.
I still haven't gotten over the fact that the blessed think they are cursed, and because of that they are surrounded by even more angels. What irks me even more is that they stand around like spectators, indifferently viewing upon the 'cursed' one with differing eyes; some smile and some don't.
I still haven't gotten over the fact that the classmate I entrusted with taking care of the pained friend in my stead has not particularly done so. I still haven't gotten over the fact that upon taking his chem file and telling him that he had better stuff to do than mug, explicitly looking at said pained friend, the next thing he does is take out the chem textbook and agree.
I still haven't gotten over the fact that the class has become a major soap opera, and there are only so many classmates left to spectate and reflect upon such.
---------------------------------------------------
1: im getting out of ib! maybe. go acjc
Me: go acjc?
1: ib's really not my style. maybe newer pastures may be good. besides, id like to defy the society's expectations at least once in my life, but ill see.
Me: Does your mom know?
1: yeah she suggested it
Me: That you get out of IB?
1: possibly
Me: Why would she do that o_o
1: because i let my stress go at home, and my mom sees. thats why i can be quite happy at school. id like to let my stress go more gracefully, but ive no time for better healing sessions. and who cares about analysizing stupid pieces of text for literary devices and all? its no higher than the rat-race in the end the way its going. no amount of arty-fartyness can disguise that, and its hard too >_> for me at least.
Me: I see... Well, whatever works for you
1: im still thinking abt it; if it continues with 2am sleeping, then off i go likely.
Honestly, I cannot really picture looking forward to IB. Perhaps the last of the true ACSian GEP will end up one-third in ACJC? What a possibility.
----------------------------------------------
A kind soul just went up to me and told me not to feel discouraged about committee meetings, even though I was probably the only one who ever objected to anything while everyone else was silent. He told me that I should object to whatever I sincerely disagree with. And as a final note, he said that usually everyone is silent, and the CSM kind of expects him to keep quiet, so he does. Somehow, I felt better. Was it concern? Was it care? Was it a subtle hint for me to make use of whatever I have left before I lose it like others? To treasure what I have? I might never get to know.
----------------------------------------------
There was a quote I once heard, but I cannot remember the speaker, nor the quote itself, so all I remember is the barest of meanings. It went something like this - For those who seem to laugh the most and seem the happiest on the surface, they probably have the most profound of emotional problems all hidden deep within them.
While I shan't generalize on this because I know people bothered with 1000 semi-important things are worse off than people bothered with 2 particularly-important things, you can kind of tell that the problems you get are actually getting more and more trivial when you find yourself less able to laugh each time. Yet, if you can find your life being one of being able to laugh off problems, yet find yourself particularly disturbed by others, those problems are truly not something that normal folk that are constantly bogged down by normal life's problems can ever understand.
Please, rethink your life if you find yourself never able to smile or laugh at the smallest of problems. Those who laugh and smile at everything probably have it worse.
I still haven't gotten over the fact that others decide to do HCL despite getting a B4 because 'they couldn't care less about a D7 being displayed on my IB cert and because I know I can do it' when I know I care and would do something about it apart from placing my faith in the high heavens and praying that the diceroll turns out as anything lower than 7, the number most commonly thrown (Irony for non-christians, but that's digressing). I still haven't gotten over the fact that unlike the B4 people who got in, I can easily say that I display far more competence in the language than them. Heck lah, I got screwed over in oral for going off-topic probably making them have merits when I have a pass. I'm seriously sick of hearing people taking HCL O-Levels go 'uh... uh... uh...' more than 5 times every time they say something.
I still haven't gotten over the fact that the general who demands that all soldiers prepare for the upcoming war is met with an adjustments in plans, sending him off somewhere else.
I still haven't gotten over the fact that I've suicidal classmates in class thinking it's perfectly fine to die because they have had a good life. I particularly cannot accept that his best friends are doing nothing about that because of such a reason.
I still haven't gotten over the fact that said suicidal classmate doesn't so much as look at the friends who defend his death till their own, instead of being close by whenever they themselves have issues.
I still haven't gotten over the fact that a stranger enters my class because he is disliked by 2/3rds the class, a 33% decrease compared to his own. I also cannot get over the fact that he is egoistically acting as if he was part of the class. Please, there are areas where you belong. If it isn't the other class, it isn't this class either. Keep looking.
I still haven't gotten over the fact that the blessed think they are cursed, and because of that they are surrounded by even more angels. What irks me even more is that they stand around like spectators, indifferently viewing upon the 'cursed' one with differing eyes; some smile and some don't.
I still haven't gotten over the fact that the classmate I entrusted with taking care of the pained friend in my stead has not particularly done so. I still haven't gotten over the fact that upon taking his chem file and telling him that he had better stuff to do than mug, explicitly looking at said pained friend, the next thing he does is take out the chem textbook and agree.
I still haven't gotten over the fact that the class has become a major soap opera, and there are only so many classmates left to spectate and reflect upon such.
---------------------------------------------------
1: im getting out of ib! maybe. go acjc
Me: go acjc?
1: ib's really not my style. maybe newer pastures may be good. besides, id like to defy the society's expectations at least once in my life, but ill see.
Me: Does your mom know?
1: yeah she suggested it
Me: That you get out of IB?
1: possibly
Me: Why would she do that o_o
1: because i let my stress go at home, and my mom sees. thats why i can be quite happy at school. id like to let my stress go more gracefully, but ive no time for better healing sessions. and who cares about analysizing stupid pieces of text for literary devices and all? its no higher than the rat-race in the end the way its going. no amount of arty-fartyness can disguise that, and its hard too >_> for me at least.
Me: I see... Well, whatever works for you
1: im still thinking abt it; if it continues with 2am sleeping, then off i go likely.
Honestly, I cannot really picture looking forward to IB. Perhaps the last of the true ACSian GEP will end up one-third in ACJC? What a possibility.
----------------------------------------------
A kind soul just went up to me and told me not to feel discouraged about committee meetings, even though I was probably the only one who ever objected to anything while everyone else was silent. He told me that I should object to whatever I sincerely disagree with. And as a final note, he said that usually everyone is silent, and the CSM kind of expects him to keep quiet, so he does. Somehow, I felt better. Was it concern? Was it care? Was it a subtle hint for me to make use of whatever I have left before I lose it like others? To treasure what I have? I might never get to know.
----------------------------------------------
There was a quote I once heard, but I cannot remember the speaker, nor the quote itself, so all I remember is the barest of meanings. It went something like this - For those who seem to laugh the most and seem the happiest on the surface, they probably have the most profound of emotional problems all hidden deep within them.
While I shan't generalize on this because I know people bothered with 1000 semi-important things are worse off than people bothered with 2 particularly-important things, you can kind of tell that the problems you get are actually getting more and more trivial when you find yourself less able to laugh each time. Yet, if you can find your life being one of being able to laugh off problems, yet find yourself particularly disturbed by others, those problems are truly not something that normal folk that are constantly bogged down by normal life's problems can ever understand.
Please, rethink your life if you find yourself never able to smile or laugh at the smallest of problems. Those who laugh and smile at everything probably have it worse.
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