Face

In one of the many YouTube videos I had downloaded in backlog, I came across a Nat Geo segment on the youngest recipient of a facial transplant.

What was a quick 2-minute tease showed the important bits of context. A young lady needed a facial transplant after a traumatic injury. After three years, she finally found a suitable donor.

Upon being (thankfully) baited into reading the entire segment on Nat Geo, I was shown a very delicate and fascinating story of a family recovering from a tradegy and persevering through many difficulties and placing their faith in both God, and modern medicine.

It was very touching, to see the empathy of human beings at their very best. Without spoiling too much, I emplore you to check out National Geographic's segment called "Katie's Face". And big warning, many images are graphic as it involves loads of surgery.

Sidenote, I'm trying to push for a double date next week as Shufs's boyfriend is coming down to Malaysia and I've never met the guy before. Seeing as Shufs has never met my date, it seemed like a good, terrible, cute idea to have.

Here's to hoping she's free.

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Mission

Sorry. There's not been much to talk about, really. And most of my thoughts have either been expressed to my friends or have been resolved in my head already.

Took part in my first Standard event for Magic, some two weeks back. Mainly because I wanted to support the LGS and built a deck with all the spare parts I've cracked from packs.

I've promised not to spend money on standard as it's a huge cash sink, but I'm unopposed to taking part in some events, if the prize structure is fair. I'm mainly in it for cheaper booster packs.

I guess that's the brunt of this write-up. Just a brief update on my uneventful life.

I've been told that I've a problem in which I can switch from full empathy to absolute emotional detachment. But I don't see this as an issue. Is that odd?

Maybe it's because I'm living with a rather emotional housemate who lashes out at world when things don't go her way. I mean, she's a friend, but she's also ostensibly reactive to the world, as though it's out to get her.

Lastly, I just watched Mission Impossible: Fallout with the parents. Great movie. And it seems that the quality of the movie is inversely proportional to the amount of screen time Tom Cruise is running in.

Also, Vanessa Kirby? Hot damn.

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Transit

Sorry. I've not been posting as much as I've been writing. Here's one from my trip to the US, almost two months ago:

The 6 am weather is biting, as I find myself temporarily away from my parents. European punctuality is a refreshing, if not unforgiving, when it comes to their public transport service.

As I disembarked into the mildly uncomfortable spring breeze, I noticed a Dutch couple standing across the bus stop. They're both arched towards one another. The lady has a foot planted onto the platform, the only thing posing as an obstacle between them. It seemed that nothing else mattered to them. Certainly not the cold.

You could see the glimmer in their eyes. Their gazes locked, unmoved. I noticed the wrinkle on their eyes and cheeks. They must be in their 50s, at a minimum. The grey roots on their dirty blonde hair vindicates that guess.

They've now pulled closer, and spoke further. As curiosity and fascination took over, I was drawn to their conversation. Of course, I'm a terrible lip-reader, especially since it's most definitely in spoken Dutch. Stubbornly, I pressed on.

Once the last words were muttered, the man places his hands on her face, cupping her cheeks. She quickly lays her hands onto his.

They slowly closed the gap separating their love, and exchanged an intimate kiss.

It was only then that I felt like I needed to move on. They were so open and expressive of their love for one another, that I felt somewhat moved by this observation.

It didn't feel like I was overstepping in their relationship, which is oddly intrusive of me.

And in an odd roundabout way, I was invited in. It was merely a glimpse, and that's all I could have asked for.

That casual observation had inspired me to love things more. This elderly couple, in a distant foreign land, had taught me how to be a better person. All this, without the use of a single word.

All this, so that I can love you better.

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Go/no go

"No seat belts?'

I shuffle in my seat, in what I used to call a van. Now it's a deathtrap for six. Five of which I care more (sorry, driver Chong).

I take a sniff of my clothes. A faint scent of vanilla on cotton. Good, I thought. Certainly doesn't reflect the past half hour of me running around the house, packing up for this trip.

Yeah. I'm going back to Iowa, for my Liang's graduation. And like I was three years ago, I've no plans nor ideas of what I'll do there.

My connection with the United States is odd, really. I love the people I've met there, and yet I loathe the nation it has become since my absence (no correlation there).

But yet again, here I am, about to meet lady liberty again. This time, for real. Yep. We're stopping by NYC.

I'm glad I got to take a nice break from life. I'm even more excited to see the people who are still around the area. And I'm anxious to unpack the last three years of my life to them.

I just hope they feel the same way.

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Print

It's near. I'm finally about to print the first copies of my book to be secretly sent to some awesome people stateside. Why them?

Because I'll be there in a few day's time. Liang's graduating so we're going to Des Moines before heading to Boston and New York City.

So I'll be rushing to get all my errands sorted out on Wednesday, before heading to the airport post-dinner. I'll need to print my book, head to Sentul to get US SIM cards from Yu Liang (who's on his way back from the US), and collect the printed and binded books, all while having packed already.

I have only packed two shirts for our two-week trip.

Not gonna lie, it's exciting to be able to go back. But I've been engrossed in everyday life in a drone-esque job so much that it had only hit me last Saturday that I'm flying off.

Besides that, it was a huge moment last week, to have been able to cast my vote for the first time in General Election 14. And also, ultimately being part of history. 60 years under the governance of a single party has come to an end.

The Opposition party had won. It's a bittersweet moment, because the candidates are basically the 2017 US Presidential Elections all over again. My voting practice was extremely (and woefully) straightforward: just not them.

Who did I want to vote for? Not the same people as before. What policies should we adopt? Not the ones implemented previously.

I hope to be a better voter and a more informed citizen the next time I get to exercise my right to vote.

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Bisection

*Last message sent: one year ago*

That struck a nerve with me.

Has it really been that long? Time has been cruel, but so have I.

I've forgotten about you. I've moved on, whether onto better things, is ultimately up for debate.

But when did I actually start giving up? More importantly, _how_ could I have given up?

You were my best friend. Frankly, you still are.

But it's been one year since you read my messages. And it's been two years since we last spoke to each other.

I don't know what to feel about that. Can you tell me how?

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Demand

Somehow this was in my digital notepad scribbles and didn't make it to the blog.



My sister demands a lot of attention.

My brother demands a lot of maturity.

I demand a lot of patience.

My father demands a lot of foresight.

My mom demands a lot of tolerance.

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