Exchange: Reflections on life and the future

I have just woken up from the strangest dream.

There was a beautiful canal flowing through quaint streets of Leiden, low bridges passing through each one. I was sailing on one of those beautiful gondola boats with a friend, admiring the birds who frolicked freely in the cold waters. Only moments before, I was walking with another friend, admiring some of the most incredible structures in the historic city of Brussels, standing next to pieces of the Berlin Wall.

And now, all of a sudden, like sand in an hourglass, time is about to flow again.

I began this post on the wave of a sudden urge to think about what's next. I have been abroad for well over three months, and as my journey in Europe draws to a close, I am thinking about my next steps once I touch down in Changi Airport. I did not imagine it to be a mammoth task, but as I laid out my cards on the table, suddenly it became clear to me that I have plenty to consider. As a Year 3 student fast approaching the second semester, I have now arrived at the crucial stage where everyone is gunning for the "penultimate-year internship". Although I certainly recall myself shunning the internship craze in my first two years of university, I realize now that it can be a beneficial experience, and I could definitely use some extra savings for my Master's degree.

The future is a strange and massively disorienting concept. As I begin to write the journey of my 2024, I am already beginning to feel overwhelmed by just how much is already coming up. And I feel that strange sense of time slipping by all over again. Was it only yesterday when they told me that I better buck up in English, or get expelled from St. Nicks? Was it only yesterday that they said, you may only progress to Eunoia Junior College if you pass the Chemistry supplementary examination? Was it only yesterday where we brought our lucky charms to the Bishan campus for the last time, ready to seal the deal with university? Because my god, we are here, 8 years later, 5 years later, 3 years later, and nothing feels real.

I close my eyes, and suddenly I am all of those girls, the same girls who dared to imagine but didn't dare to hope. How is 2023 almost over? How am I already 21? It's 5.46am in Dublin. I look outside my window, it's pouring. Nine degrees Celsius outside. There's a blueberry muffin next to me, my breakfast for tomorrow. I suddenly remember that I have five days to pack all of my things in this room and leave for good. I get up and toss some of the litter. I would have to start piecing the things back into my luggage very soon. It has to be ready for immediate collection as soon as I finish my final paper on the 18th of December. I ponder over my final essay, wondering how I should put it together. I practiced some Irish with my fellow Singaporean friend over Telegram, and wonder how much more I need to do.

Tomorrow I shall have to do the laundry that I have been putting off for days. I put them all in the bag, they go in the machine tomorrow, straight after breakfast. It's almost 6am, ironically the time where people get up groggy and bleary-eyed. This is just before my extremely unnatural bedtime, trained by years of nocturnalism. I am at my peak mental performance, switching deftly between this blog, an essay, an Irish aural assignment, and a grant letter, all while dreaming of the possibilities for next summer. No doubt, it is a strange way to live, but I love the tranquility of the night. And now I think about the last few days, and more acutely, the last few hours.

I submitted my DRAM20110 essay a few days ago, at the Schiphol Airport in Amsterdam, 15 seconds behind the deadline - but it went through anyway, thankfully. It was the most exhilarating 3000 words I have ever mustered, furiously typing on whatever device I had in front of me, subject to ensuring that my fingers don't turn blue from the near negative cold temperatures of the Netherlands. It did not help that my hotel room had no table. Then of course there is my other essay, the one that sits on an open tab right now. I am currently procrastinating on that to type this reflection, but I will get to it. For now, I have thoughts that must be let out.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, a little voice reminds me that I am an actress who is studying the theory and training in the practice of theatre. There is some unease as I know that I need to be a lot stricter with myself than I currently am, even though I remind myself to be kinder to myself all the time. And in little bursts of energy, I race around the room in pirouettes. I ask my friend in NUS if he could teach me some Chinese dance when I return to Singapore, because somewhere within me I still adored dance, and watching countless Instagram reels while returning to ballet in UCD has me searching for a viable alternative back home. I know how important movement is to theatre, and as I count the days down to the end of SEP, those little things I do are the ways in which I build myself back up for that return to reality.

So at this stage, I remember all the projects that I have been working on, that I have prepared for 2024, that I have to execute really soon. A gala dinner happens on the 30th. I had a film project planned for January and February. Two days of private training with my mentor, again in January. My final theatre project which I must take next semester. Plenty of little things are on the way, and I am excited to go back to working on them. Being out here is fun and lovely, but there is also a fundamental mismatch of pace and energy. Knowing that there is a place where things are supposed to be done, and I am not getting them done, is its own unspeakably strange brand of agonizing. The Singaporean, apparently, struggles to sit still no matter how much they're told to sit back and relax.

The dream is not over yet. I still have some time to explore and enjoy this city - after the Irish language examination next week I am certainly planning to go out and use some of my tourist vouchers, before my flight out to London on the 15th. And then I will be back for one last paper on the 18th, and finally on the 23rd I will take the plane out of this winter world, back to the tropical lands that will feel both real and surreal. There are a million things I have experienced, a million lessons learned on this trip, and I think perhaps I would come to appreciate and understand Singapore a lot more than I once did before.

Until then, that's exactly two weeks to the flight home. Crazy?

I know right.