Lapse

At one point along the Glen Waverley line, the train comes to a silent glide. Engine seemingly off - but really just a cessation of acceleration. As the train glides, there, utmost silence. A lapse in the constant mechanical rhythm. 

I'll never forget the day in Year 9 when we rehearsed a play - and myself, uttering a sentence regarding death, and finding myself finishing to an utterly silent carriage full of peak time commuters. I forget the play, I forget the sentence, but the feeling and memory forever lingers. Called upon again and again whenever the situation is reincarnated.

Conjunction

Venus and Jupiter, how brightly you shine.

Onion

Excuse the hiatus. A quick one.

會發現，很多人都有一樣這麼愛過一個人。

Quickly -

Something I realised again over my six-week holiday in Taiwan.

Beloved.

I think we all tend to forget how loved we are.

Transition to Ballarat

Okay, so this is a post long overdue.

Week 4 of MD2.
Whilst I anticipated major change in my life, I didn't quite anticipate all the other changes too.

But here's what I have so far - Photo diary of life in Ballarat.
There will be so much more to add.

But so far, I've settled in to home for the next year, life in a different town and

It's beautiful here. Akin to inner Eastern suburbs of Melbourne - full of green, leafy wide streets. The summer sun brings diamonds to Lake Wendouree and the days are long. Dusk a bashful, beautiful hue when you hang around long enough.

Beginning in Shepparton - orientation.
I learnt more life skills in two days that I can remember. Travelled over 400km in two days.

Last day lunch with the rural gang before we parted ways to begin this new year, new journey, new milestone in life.

I never really believed or 'felt' milestones until this year. Every year had passed the same way.
But something about packing your childhood possessions in boxes. Clothes in boxes. Everything boxed and on the go. Living a boxed life. Something about that just really changes how I perceived wherever, however this is going.

3 hours later after an adrenaline pumped drive - overtaking so many large vehicles and having never overtaken at such high speeds to many times in my driving career... Then drove to Ballarat after coming home to get clothes and luggage.

The country roads flying by at 110 kilometres per hour.
Joking, but full of apprehension that kangaroos and koalas might suddenly appear on the road. Deciding the logical way - what then to do. Slam on the brakes. Don't swerve, less we topple off the road and flip the car. Luckily, kangaroos mostly only come out at dusk. NTS to avoid driving at that time.

Passing unfamiliar road signs. And finally seeing, Ballarat. Next exit.

You know, there's something unbelievable about driving oneself to a new town, new city in the depths of the night. Actually moving out for the first time in my life. Underestimating how many things I'd have needed to prepare. Thanking the stars the university provided really good housing. Feeling so unsettled for ages because everything I owned was in boxes and if I've learnt one thing about myself: I love travelling, but I need a permanent place to call home. I need the comfort of knowing I can return somewhere and that all will be the same. Even if - and I note this as a selfish thought - I'm changed.

I both wish I could've taken photos to document it. And like that I couldn't. So the only way to remember is to etch it into my mind.

Seeing its glowing yellow lights in the distance. Looking at foreign roads, places, landmarks and wondering how on earth you'll learn to get used to it. Coming into the city through its centre - wide awake, loving the ambience of its night, picking up keys from the Emergency Department of the hospital. The short intake of laughter. The cold air. Sudden rush of endorphins. Realising that you're already living this so-called milestone. A few days later, again, realising that - Hey, I'm used to it. Then driving back two, three weeks later, again at night, similar conditions - and finding you've already lost that wonder.

It is such a loss. It's akin to the feeling after a really good movie - no matter its ending, whether or not I silently sobbed my heart out in the dark theatre, or whether or not I left feeling so happy and alive. That feeling of - where you feel as though you've come so far, somehow exiting that same theatre a changed person in the timespan of a few hours.

Then the post-movie feeling disappears. A slight hollow sadness - for the lack of a better word - it's going, going, gone. Disappearing slowly. Like snowflakes melting under the sun. And there's really nothing you can do to bring it back. You can't even describe that feeling. Can't induce it or re-create it in any way.

My mantra in the second year of university was: Things always change. Or, to put it in a more positive light, The only thing that's constant is change itself. I suppose this is just another change in itself.

Behold - the beauty of Ballarat. We live in the Lakes and Gardens Precinct - Alfredton, a relatively new area. Full of developing housing complexes of really, nice houses.

 First weekend home.

I forgot how it was to have abundant food to share with friends and family. 

I realised how sad it was to only buy food for two people. I bought five mushrooms, dammit. Five. Never done that before. Food was meant for sharing and in sharing, I gain so much happiness just watching people eat.

My little piece of home. I'm crazy I know - but a super warm and soft blanket as one could only purchase from Taiwan.

And yes - on 'Mexican Night' our house brought dessert, featuring ice magic.

The first time I spent a lunchtime looking at the lake. Loving how everyone smiled to me as they walked by - whether leisurely or on their next exercise mission.

It's very beautiful and serene there.
So many people to observe. And my favourite spot (thus far) is situated just across the road from my new favourite cafe (thus far, again).

Excuse the terrible quality. But this is how ducks dive for food. Hehe. 

I couldn't quite get over that. The smaller ones fully dive down and submerge themselves for a couple of seconds before appearing with their battle rewards.

Another favourite spot. It extends out quite a bit and - as the passerby informed us, is the deepest point of the lake. 8 metres. You can easily fish for trout here if you so wish. (He happened to be scouting the place for his next fishing trip with his missus).

The moment I walked into the cafe and smelt the coffee I knew. Everything I took in after that only but cemented my initial impression. This place served good coffee, and most likely good food and will be a valuable asset in the year to come. 

When the take away coffee cups came out - it was an immediate level up.

The interior decor, friendliness of staff, aroma of coffee, display of food and cakes - everything was to my immense liking. If ever I were to have my own cafe... I know exactly how it should be.

Another big change - I almost joined a gym. But the idea of having $40 taken out of my bank fortnightly was too much to handle. So my housemate and I settled for bike hire instead. Thirty dollars for a semester from the uni. In the time since, I've cycled at least 40 kilometres. I've also played a game of futsal. Excuse me, where did you put AW? The locals scoff for us to wait till winter - but until that time comes, I'm making the most of my cycle around the lake and around my new neighbourhood.

It's been an exciting adventure so far.

Half an hour

I wondered why they kept looking at their phones and wondered if they had an argument which is why the elderly lady moved to sit behind me. But it turned out to be nothing I thought, why did the old man get up to wait by the doors so early?

At Darling Station - everything came to light. How ept. Darling. For when their darling grandson was swapped from this parents' loving hands to the grandparents.

So unbelievably utterly endearing and lovely to watch unfold. Such a beautiful little boy and his grandparents who'd probably just finished shopping at Queen Victoria Markets.

The Fortunate

I actually think I've been the luckiest, hands down this trip.

From afternoon blue skies, thunderstorm afar, to now, my favourite kind of moon hanging in the deep black with stars as company...

I wonder if I will see the sunrise tomorrow. I won't get my hopes up. But this flight in terms of scenery has been just beyond amazing, and I'm so glad for it.

*3.29am TW time - add dawn to this. It's the exact opposite of coming home from Cairns. The moon looked the same also.

And yes, I saw the sun rise. It was so quick. As it etched its way up. Like a baby crawling.

Might I just say - this flight felt like a dream.

Spaceship flying

At first I saw only the evening star.

It disappeared while we went through some turbulence. Understandable, after all - we could've been travelling through a cloud.

But then I saw a flicker in the periphery.

Not the flicker of a plane wing at night.

And I waited. And it happened again and again and my friend, I saw a thunderstorm from above. The sky as it flashed in the distance. Thunderstorm raging down below this calm, calm veil. Underneath calm calm stars that stretch out and are so damn close. And a shooting star. If my eyes did not deceive me. It was a shooting star and I tell you, I wished for something I've always yearned for more blatantly than ever. Something I didn't even speak aloud myself inside my heart. And whether or not it was because I'm watching wish you were all here (I think) at the moment which by the way I am loving. Paused at the moment because the thunderstorm was too amazing. And this is a new year. So many weird and wonderful things happened yesterday - from this crazy occurrence of meeting a girl inside of MUJI, having her approach me at first saying: are you korean? To I really like the way you're dressed. To can we meet for coffee? Then actually meeting for the said coffee and me while talking to her, unbelievably in Chinese where I have limited higher up vocabulary to realising there are so many of her thoughts that I've had. To the freedom of having to hide nothing, talking to what was a perfect stranger about deep dark things. Having the same said thoughts uttered in exactly the same fashion all be it in Chinese, and then after that coffee, choosing to walk the way I did. Looking up at that precise moment as I turned the corner and meeting Cindy there. Laughter tumbling out. All worryless. Going to big egg and friend. Life is really made of choices. Although you don't know you're taking it. Actively, you don't think it. But those same choices lead us to such weird and wonderful things. Like me choosing to go back into MUJI after seeing the girl look at me with interest. And us ending up again at the same spot. So many things and so many choices. That create the person we are today. That make us who we are.

What will you do if you don't get into specialist? Take a year off and go to Japan. Travel for a few months in Europe. Throw all plans and maps to the wind and run run run. I'll let my steering wheel loose and let the currents take me where they may. Anywhere. I'll live with a goal, but at once aimlessly. These russet dreams as they are. As I lust for.

What has really change in me these past months? Thoughts like this go immediately and unedited on this space. No more read and reread. No more - am I being too honest here? No more - that's too private to go up. I don't know what has changed really.

Thinking back to the start of errant thoughts, when I agonised over public or private. When I chose not to write for an audience but instead for myself. That was when the private button went up and all was buried. But you know, I guess I ended up wanting not to let these thoughts fester away in the dark. That at least, here, they can exist. Not just lay waste in the deepest part of my soul. Cause these thoughts at least. Of me, me and me. I want to share. 

But you know. I can see the clouds as we travel through them at thousands of miles per hour. They leave almost as soon as we arrive. But we're the ones moving, actually. Dips and dabbles. Is this that feeling? Or meeting someone, doing something. Having it last only for s short while. But so much weight and meaning behind it. Short, significant, inspiring exchanges. I'll never be that person. There are too many flaws in me. (And my movie just got reset. How annoying.) But I'll work on it. I'll try my best. Set my goals. Not get too caught up. Not impose. Not lose my temper so easily or be so stubborn. And friend. It is so beautiful up here. 

Is this what it's like to fly in spaceship? 

To cruise up here. Watching the miles fall away. Rocketing along to the next new beginning. To a New Year. A new start, I haven't yet set my New Years resolutions. 

But it'll be something like this.

Food: Eat healthy. Learn to cook. Either learn to: ice skate, dance, yoga, go gym. Photography: 365 challenge, dig up more projects to do.

I won't ever play piano the way I want to. Itll never be as perfect as I want it to be my head. I can't replicate that. It all falls apart the minute I try. No patience.

Why don't I finish things in my head? Why must I write it all down to feel like I've filed it away? Means I accumulate too much dust and clutter in my heart.

I'm also happy all went well today and I managed to get a seat change. The window seat inspires me. People watching inspires me. I wonder how others perceive me. Want to see myself through another's eyes. There's s baby crying. 

Watching this movie and realising the importance of siblings. How easily we can talk. How we can insult and scream and fight all we want and how it will never change. I love you. I will always love you. Is the recurrent message from this trip. Fr my family and loved ones. That even if the sky falls down, we will still be here to hold it up. The kind of friendship that dog and deer had. Kate and Pippin. Which reminds me I still need to watch the hobbit. I think I'm now transcribing my thoughts as they run through my head. Fingers are not moving as fast as they can. Right. At the spot again. Almost went over the fastforwarding. Hush for now.

Mornington -

I'm trying not to be a perfectionist.

I'll post these up now, because otherwise they will never go up and will disappear into nothingness in my hard drive.

You know what's kind of beautiful?

Having spent half of the last ten years in a constant state of yearning, I think, has resulted indadvertedly in me missing the actual feeling of missing someone.

In Bridget Vreeland's words, "I think I was missing the idea of missing."
And that's how it was, even though these words floated past the back of my eyes every time the phrase crossed my mind.

Source: rebloggy

I hardly use the phrase, "I miss you". But in recent days and conversations, it has just really made a pang in my heart.

You are missing from me.
I cannot be whole without you.

Which leads me to the memory of reading The Missing Piece by Shel Silverstein - and that grand, transcending moment of bittersweet comprehension. Read the book again. It's the kind of understanding I wanted as a kid - "You'll know when you grow up."

On cultural awareness

Recently attended a MUHI Crossing Borders, Cultural Awareness program, which provided valuable insight and, simply said, perspective, on asylum seekers and refugees living within Australia, focussing especially on the difficulties they experience after arrival, cultural differences, and how we, as medical personnel, will best be able to speak to them, gain trust, establish rapport and help them find their footing in an alien nation.

The workshop concluded with a simulated patient, who was suffering post-traumatic stress disorder. After the interview, we had a chance to speak to the SP as herself, not in character, for feedback and analysis.

She covered her mouth, a wide bright smile flitting about, "Am I allowed to speak as myself yet?" Soft-spoken and full of laughter, she explains her role and the story behind her character, "This poor lady, whilst trying to flee her homeland, she accidentally stepped on a landmine and in the process, lost her baby. At night, the memories come flooding back - her baby, why didn't she protect her baby better? Then she worries about the rest of her family - her mother, father, sisters - are they well? Are they safe? Her husband is always working to support them here and always sending money back home. She sits all day at home, staring at the wall. Praying, always praying. Always, the guilt. It could have been us. Why did we live and they die? Why are we living in safety when our family members back home cower, fearing for their lives?"

This is not uncommon.
If not, one of the less horrific stories.

My goodness, the scale and depth of a world I cannot even hope to grasp even a wisp of.

I've begun to appreciate the depth and scope of all the fiction I read as a young child. You don't understand it back then, it's just a story. And you love merely the story. You never understand what teachers say when they talk 'themes' explored, but you love the story for being what it is - wonderfully painted in your mind's eye. As with all things they come with age, understanding, at last. The recent first MD student conference has drilled this thought into me.

After years and years, I finally understand.

Postcards from Phillip Island

"How many times in your life will you walk in the pelting rain, in face of a rising tide with the ocean lapping at your feet in Phillip Island?" 

So I reasoned, and we continued on.

Encapsulating Hakuna Matata.

That little ducky makes me so happy every time I see it.

Double rainbow and sunshowers.
Position yourself 40 degrees with your back towards the sun.

Food coma after food coma.

Under- and overestimations, next time we'll get it right.

 

Why, thank you Space Team. 

Hahaha, fun times.

Obligatory cloud photo in memory of the old days.

What more do you require? Hee.

We thought we'd be able to spend a whole morning here.
Until we drove by after Peninsula Hotsprings and reformulated our plans.

"Amy, do you want to try and see how durable that Totoro will be after you drop it?"

Brilliant end to the trip.

Can't wait till the next one.

For just one day

I would like to swap eyes.

To see my idiosyncrasies and their nuances.

Everything I can perceive in another that which I cannot in myself.
I'm blind to my actions, and it is through my memories and my ability to recreate third-person memories that I picture the way I am perceived.

Just one day.

Also if I could make my dreams into movies, yes.

One last thing too -
if years are passing faster and faster because each year is now only a fraction of my lifetime, in addition to increased workload, commitments and all, then how?

I know to make the most of my 'now'.

That's probably what I wanted when I was trying to describe the feeling of watching very sad movies and bawling my eyes out.
A longing desire to feel.

Having lived 22 years, I want to feel something new.
Or to feel something with all its depth.

Hurt. Indignation. Sadness. Love. Happiness. Ecstasy. Rage. Passion. Inspiration. Exhilaration.

All of that.
Half of which I have not felt.

I feel as though my ability to feel has decreased.
That it takes so much more to stimulate my heart to the same extent as it did when I was young.

Is it jadedness that comes with age?
Cynicism? Habit?

I wonder.

And also people.
To never forget that that person there has a family; is a child of someone's too.
To see them in the context of their life and living, as opposed to merely a passing stranger.

I guess that's the most important thing.
That each day, we pass by so many strangers.
So, so many we never see again.

And to realise how big, yet how exceedingly small the world is.
Mine, but a minuscule portion of the lives of all others.

Medicine is also a social science.
And such an interesting science at that.

Fleeting emotions.

How do you articulate half-formed thoughts?
Slivers of emotion that comes and goes, shadows and hides for you to seek?

Only time will tell.
And movies, books, articles and quotes.

Forever young

In my mind, I always belonged to the class 10B.

Never 11B or 12B. Always 10B.

Just as anyone born in '92 will always be 18.

Evangeline

The evening star.