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Angelina Jolie

'Putting pen to paper'  

I rarely find the time and mind now to sit down and finish the unfinished thoughts that drift to me when I least expect it. When I do finally sit in front of a blank page, hardly anything ever comes back to me. I’m don’t know if I’m just generally less focussed or ‘work really does that to you’. I’m not loving the feeling because come on, it practically spells out my brain-vegetating state. So, before I completely become hopeless, I thought I’d spend some time and try to remember how to even do this.  

Chemical analyst, really?
Some days I wake up and feel my work and I make the most absurd match. Of the things I studied, Chemistry would probably make the least sense to me. Put a chemical equation in front of me and you can actually see my brain physically shut down. So, what am I doing doing what I’m doing? Well, contrary to popular belief, apparently no one really knows what they’re doing at work. However, I doubt that that is true because someone extremely modest pointed that out to me. I think a part of what’s keeping me at this job is its challenge. After six month, there is still so much to learn and I still feel extremely dumb. I am seriously considering spending some home time researching the drugs we work with, and maybe going through some textbooks. Right now, it feels like there are endless amounts of things I can look into and find out more about, and that’s what’s so great about this job. So, chemical analyst, really? Yeah, really. For now anyway, until October and I’ll see if I can get into something I’m slightly better at. 

The Phantom of the Opera
Needless to say, it was fantastic. Shame we didn’t get the Anthony Warlow performance of Phantom but I thought his understudy was bloody great. It’s been a while since I’ve been to an opera or even listened to it, so this was almost nostalgic. I’ve forgotten how much I love the blend of the abstract and the depth of operas, and even more so when intermingled with dark and ghostly undertones. Unexpectedly, I thought the over-elaborate stage props and costumes were most impressive. I found myself just staring at the many, many sets they rolled out a lot of the time. Definitely money well spent.  

Default friends
I can’t begin to express how thankful I am to have my friends. It is rarer than I’m comfortable with to find people that you can just spill your guts to at any given time, expanding each other’s purview just that bit more and having people see you as a whole. This simple phenomenon has become more and more valuable with age. One weekend without them will just be that unbearable, like skipping some therapy session and not quite recovering for some time. I see my mum and I don’t think she has that with anyone. I feel my dad seeking it amongst his friends, but I’m not sure he ever gets there. I don’t know if that’s what awaits me in adult life, and whether I have done what I can do to prevent it, but a fact remains that reality has a way of not bending to a person’s will. Or does it?  

Culture and heritage
I’ve drifted so far from my roots that I can barely remember of which culture I belong to anymore. I’m still fascinated with my heritage, the history and its anthropology, but what is a fascination without actively looking for answers to all the questions? It’s there and I’m ashamed to admit I just don’t try. In most cases this not-knowing has no real consequence, but when a daughter drifts from her family, it becomes slightly severe. I hear about the stories of other Chinese families and how they live, I’m envious I can’t accomplish the same with mine. Fortunately, my parents were never hard on me like the other Shang parents are on their single child, but I’ve never rewarded them for it. On the contrary, I always seem to be making the ‘other’ choice. Why can’t I just let my utmost respect for them just shine through a little more? Considering and reconsidering their circumstances before I once again make my own abrupt decisions. Why is every attempt at bonding with them such a chore?  

The meaning of life
A good friend of mine once brought up the question on what is the big MOL. A surprising question that does not come up frequently enough. Evident of how we rather busy ourselves with living it rather than questioning it, I immediately and enthusiastically kicked out a big list of what is the essence to my life. After I was done with my selfish spew, I felt very much like the kid that confidently yelled out the wrong answer and was left to face a class of awkward silences. Hahaha. So here’s my second shot at the chicken-egg gridlock:

On a smaller scale, the aim of the game seems to be to procreate. It’s the easiest and most common legacy to leave behind. We’re conditioned to be satisfied with just that. However, to then view us as a whole, I’d venture to guess that we all here to breed geniuses through random statistics. That is, every now and then, a selective individual with extraordinary talents will be born, through no perfect formula of nature (inherited genetics) or nurture (parental direction, forced or unforced), but by pure chance. We’re not talking about just the average clever cookie, but someone that can either advance, or for that matter, retreat human progress; either prolonging or destroying our existence. 

While that is eternally underway, the rest of us aim to fulfill our capacity, acquiring the most sustainable knowledge and using it to maintain the status quo the best we can. It comes naturally to us to be able to define the fundamentals and discover necessary extravagance, and then live with accordance to it. We’re the ant-like drones in a waiting room, anticipating the mass movers. Of course, the mundane-ness of our lives are not noticeably paltry with the virtues that have been well established, such as, religion, culture, food, love etc. Sometimes the idea of it all sends me into some sort of mental vertigo, but my life remains insignificant all the same.