Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Sleep, Rest

Been back on the red dot for almost a week now, and I have found it difficult to revert back to 'work' mode. I am house-sitting the Super's house and it is lovely to have all this space to myself - free to cook, roam, smoke and enjoy the quiet. As usual there is the never-ending construction work on campus, but tomorrow I shall try and see if I can work in the office.

I can't wait for the semester to begin, this little bit of downtime is driving me nuts. I still owe the Super a ten-page summary of where I'm at with my proposal...but I can't quite muster the will-power to get the brain juices flowing again. The past school year has been pretty hardcore and all my faculties have been pushed to the limit. Z says I shouldn't be too hard on myself and to take advantage of the time for R&R. I dunno. I'm a bit of a puritan when it comes to these things. If I'm not having a difficult time with anything, with work, then I feel I am not really doing anything worthwhile.

Going home to Manila next month. It would be good to see old friends and family.

Friday, June 10, 2011

Friday Eve

For the first time in a while, it is quiet in my head. For the first time in a while, I have the quiet to write. So here it is. In a few days I shall celebrate another birthday. Broke. As always. And a few days after that I fly off to the city that gave give birth to Critical Theory. Not a bad way to celebrate a birthday broke.

It's been a year almost, since I landed my ass on this island. My first impressions stand. But there are things to like, even admire. Class here is not that big of an issue. Not in the way it does in the Philippines. Race is what divides people though. And religion.

There is a numbness-inducing continuity in things. Time here flows, in the way that yesterday flows seemelessly into today. Nothing disturbs the tick of the clock and everyone does as the should just so. Singapore has tamed time in the way the Philippines has not.

This business of higher higher higher education is difficult. I have learned to read a thousand pages per week on average. After a point it becomes addicting. You keep reading and you can't stop. The writing part is more difficult though. I thought it ridiculous when one of the professors said her aim was to write five hundred a day. I thought naively at the time, what a low output. But 500 words a day is a miracle on days when the muses don't come knocking.

I have fallen in love and we are broken up for the nth time. This loving business gets really ugly the older one gets. But I am enjoying my space tonight, free of thoughts other than these. I am downloading Hanna. It promises to be good.