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May 14, 2010

With a notebook & pen


I remember our first meeting- up in the treehouse, planning the 09/10 senior's farewell. I remember a notebook and a pen in hand, excited about making minutes on this exco's first ever meeting, excited with this new found job.

I have so many ambitions, to create platforms, to improve all the organisation in arc. To make change.

What happened?

Maybe it was just circumstances. I felt defeated, when I realised my locker was cleared. I didn't adapt well. And I didn't feel needed, or where there was an opportunity, I slackened thinking no one cares anyway.

And then I came back. I was so motivated, so excited on what was going to be what was going to my last year. My last opportunity to make things right, to bring good change to the club I had loved too much.

Had.

I wanted to make things right. To leave VJ, not worrying about the future of this club. To make this place a home once again.

I thought I didn't care about the rewards. That I had higher goals, idealistic at that.

But then things changed. When I heard the results, I felt terrible. Shortchanged. Like all trust has been lost in me. But I don't blame them, I blame myself.

Even as I feel so terrible, so disappointed in myself, I could understand this decision amidst my initial resentment.

But I really thought I could do this. Why must things be this way?

And then I teared on the bus, thinking about whatever that has happened. This sucks, no doubt, but I was the one willing to put in my all. It was unfair. They had all their other commitments, all these other opportunities, and time. I was the most loyal, the most motivated. I train so hard. I wanted this so badly.

I don't even understand how the positions were so screwed up. What's the rationale behind it, seriously? Do you guys hate me or something?

One can say that nothing else matters, as long as you had a place there are ways to shine. BULLSHIT. Already in the first meet up things had changed. Everything changed. I don't know how to pull through this. All this fakeness everywhere, I'm so sick of it. And it's like even I have to be fake, to smile and be enthusiastic when all I wanted was to cry, what the hell.

If there comes a day when I don't care about our friendship anymore, I will tell you to SHUT UP right in your pretty face.

Then there are all those ideas I had in mind- do I suggest them, and have them administered by them who will take the credit? Or have them all forgotten, to leave a speech nothing but a lie, like they always have been?

I've lost my place, with all my 'dreams'. I don't know how I'm going to go on from here, but whatever it is, that spark in me has already disappeared.

-


That day, when it was already dark and all, I was in the range, reading the black file. I guess that's where all this sudden motivation exacerbated from me. It wasn't much, just simply remarks on the club, remarks on what was done and what wasn't.

But then I felt something, this connection and conviction for the club, of the writers. The deep regret that they could have done so much better.

I guess that's why I started taking down notes, writing down pointers, on how stuff can be improved.

Am I foolish, or what.

I don't know what's gotten into me anymore. Am I so superficial to simply care about positions, why am I so sore about it still?

I just feel like if I'm not the one actually leading, it would be so difficult to implement, for people to listen to me, to take me seriously. Seeing how I'm already so soft spoken.

Oh whatever. I really do contradict myself.

What I do know is that armory officer sounds terrible.

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