I would have to call up both the age and the year, like two sides of a doorframe, before I could enter the memory room. Which is difficult and confusing because the year begins in the beginning of the year (pardon the tautology), and my age begins at its end (not my fault either). Then there are 365 days in a year, 24 hours in a day. That's a lot of hours to remember, memories to store. Yet when I call up the age and the year in my mind, what appears are just that few fleeting images in blurry black-and-white and sepia. What are they, these few lines?
18: on the cusp of adulthood, opening my eyes to life beyond my sheltered, provincial life. 19: clubbing like crazy, lapping up all the attention accorded to the simple fact of my youth. I was a bastard to someone and broke his heart. 20: feeling like an adult already, suddenly, yet life put on compulsory hold. 21: the first time I heard my heart break; I celebrated my birthday with my 3 best friends from secondary school, all of whom are still my best friends today. 22: consolidating life, anticipating with excitement my (then) future. 23: I lost my voice and a piece of my self; and for better and for worse, I met somebody; left the country and tasted freedom for the first time. 24: Melbourne, books, politics, intellectual life, academia, literature, Jin, Melbourne. 25: Singapore, and for the first time, I feel confident, really confident. 26: my first suit, my first job, my first paycheck. 27: if there is one year I would nominate as the year, it would be this year, when art and politics, love and life created a new alchemy of me. 28: happy exhaustion, and an indescribable devastation. 29: departure; a new life.
18: on the cusp of adulthood, opening my eyes to life beyond my sheltered, provincial life. 19: clubbing like crazy, lapping up all the attention accorded to the simple fact of my youth. I was a bastard to someone and broke his heart. 20: feeling like an adult already, suddenly, yet life put on compulsory hold. 21: the first time I heard my heart break; I celebrated my birthday with my 3 best friends from secondary school, all of whom are still my best friends today. 22: consolidating life, anticipating with excitement my (then) future. 23: I lost my voice and a piece of my self; and for better and for worse, I met somebody; left the country and tasted freedom for the first time. 24: Melbourne, books, politics, intellectual life, academia, literature, Jin, Melbourne. 25: Singapore, and for the first time, I feel confident, really confident. 26: my first suit, my first job, my first paycheck. 27: if there is one year I would nominate as the year, it would be this year, when art and politics, love and life created a new alchemy of me. 28: happy exhaustion, and an indescribable devastation. 29: departure; a new life.
My roaring twenties. Gone. I passed my 30th in Melbourne quietly and alone, and everyday has been just another day since, and that's good in a way.
There's something that's been constant throughout these years: my obsession with these three tracks in Faye's 1998 concert CD. For the past 14 years I listened to them at least every other day. Time will pass. I will get old. But her voice remains eternal in these songs: 約定, 紅豆, 我願意.
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