I will follow you into the dark
I nearly cried while reading my poem out in the library today. It was a myriad of emotions that wrecked my insides, leaving me breathless, shaking and stuttering. I guess it might not have seemed significant to anyone other than myself, but sometimes there comes a moment, where you know the universe stops to listen, and all is quiet.
I would never have guessed, that on 10th June 2005, as I was writing a poem upon a depressing evening in the nyjc library, I would read that same poem, in the same place, 3 years later. It was surreal, as though I had stumbled into a dream of nostalgia. I think the point when I almost teared was when I looked up once, and saw Mrs Teo. I had only one word in my mind.
Everything.
This week has been an emotional one. On top of today, I got to hold a class with Mr Yee on Wednesday. The master and his student. That night, when I had turned off the lights in my room, I left myself vulnerable to a hurricane of images and thoughts that devastated me with a fierce ferocity. I cried, and thanked God for my blessings. I had to keep repeating, 'I was conducting a class with Mr Yee today...I was cond....' so that I could believe it actually happened.
I guess why these emotions come to me is because I don't think I have ever left Nanyang JC. It has always been where my heart is, where my home away from home is, where everything that I am now, is.
Walking down the hallways and the school compound, I still see Alvyn and Kelvin playing tennis, Daniel in the Drum, Raymond messing with the props in the lit room, Norman sparring off with Mr Tan on post-modernism and Wei Kee playing his harmonica on the hall stage. I am still cracking my brains on what to get my 'mortal', Emily, not knowing that I am her 'mortal' too. Michelle's voice is sore from all the cheering sessions with the J1s, and Angela is doing a Judo demonstration at the atrium. I walk pass the lit room and see my classmates lying all over the place, while Miss Kwok is unsuccessfully trying to get our attention. I walk pass our GP classroom and stop to witness our final dodgeball match. As I go home each day, I walk pass the track and hear echoes of a younger Alvyn and myself pleading with Ms Ong to let us play soccer for PE.
In the AVA room, I hear Mr Tan desperately trying to protect the pride of Old Trafford against the ravaging Chelsea and Arsenal fans. In the history room, Mr Kellett has just lined us up outside the class. He wants us to go in one by one, and sing old patriotic songs in Italian, German and French. Going downstairs, Mr Nathan has just completed one of his inspiring speeches, and has also just asked Daniel to stay in the toilet. We laugh, and I can still hear it now.
I guess it's perfectly fitting then, that on this day of days, Valentine's Day, I got my heart's desire, to spend it with people whom I love so dearly. They might not have been there physically, but they were there.
Sometimes a moment hovered, and lingered, and stayed for much, much longer than a moment.
I would never have guessed, that on 10th June 2005, as I was writing a poem upon a depressing evening in the nyjc library, I would read that same poem, in the same place, 3 years later. It was surreal, as though I had stumbled into a dream of nostalgia. I think the point when I almost teared was when I looked up once, and saw Mrs Teo. I had only one word in my mind.
Everything.
This week has been an emotional one. On top of today, I got to hold a class with Mr Yee on Wednesday. The master and his student. That night, when I had turned off the lights in my room, I left myself vulnerable to a hurricane of images and thoughts that devastated me with a fierce ferocity. I cried, and thanked God for my blessings. I had to keep repeating, 'I was conducting a class with Mr Yee today...I was cond....' so that I could believe it actually happened.
I guess why these emotions come to me is because I don't think I have ever left Nanyang JC. It has always been where my heart is, where my home away from home is, where everything that I am now, is.
Walking down the hallways and the school compound, I still see Alvyn and Kelvin playing tennis, Daniel in the Drum, Raymond messing with the props in the lit room, Norman sparring off with Mr Tan on post-modernism and Wei Kee playing his harmonica on the hall stage. I am still cracking my brains on what to get my 'mortal', Emily, not knowing that I am her 'mortal' too. Michelle's voice is sore from all the cheering sessions with the J1s, and Angela is doing a Judo demonstration at the atrium. I walk pass the lit room and see my classmates lying all over the place, while Miss Kwok is unsuccessfully trying to get our attention. I walk pass our GP classroom and stop to witness our final dodgeball match. As I go home each day, I walk pass the track and hear echoes of a younger Alvyn and myself pleading with Ms Ong to let us play soccer for PE.
In the AVA room, I hear Mr Tan desperately trying to protect the pride of Old Trafford against the ravaging Chelsea and Arsenal fans. In the history room, Mr Kellett has just lined us up outside the class. He wants us to go in one by one, and sing old patriotic songs in Italian, German and French. Going downstairs, Mr Nathan has just completed one of his inspiring speeches, and has also just asked Daniel to stay in the toilet. We laugh, and I can still hear it now.
I guess it's perfectly fitting then, that on this day of days, Valentine's Day, I got my heart's desire, to spend it with people whom I love so dearly. They might not have been there physically, but they were there.
Sometimes a moment hovered, and lingered, and stayed for much, much longer than a moment.
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