Remember Me

Watching "Remember Me", I also was clearer on some things that I hadn't gotten from the movie before. Beyond the beauty and the romantic portrayal of the character of Tyler, there were also points when I was so frustrated at how blind he could be (almost in the way he accuses his father of), and how outrightly stupid he was sometimes with his words and how he put them across... But at the same time, I realise that these kinds of things are often what makes me fall deeper in love with characters. When I acknowledged how I felt and what I thought; how frustrated I was, almost desperate for him, I also came to the recognition that that's the way we are.

Because the main lead does not have to be perfect, only human. And Tyler Keets Hawkins kind of unravelled for me at that point. Because he is careless, obstinate, and if you call manipulation and acting out of self-gain immoral then call it that, but I just call it making mistakes. But he also does it out of a pure heart, and when he is careless and when he makes mistakes, I imagine that his mind is that of a clear day; not cloudy nor bright, just usual, and almost blank. And I guess that's because that's what I sometimes recall in moments when I "make mistakes"... when I act out of no real ill-intention to hurt, and not thinking much of motives or consequences, but that act is eventually revealed to hold significance in ways I wasn't aware. I guess there are chips in our very being that we often like to think whole, and I don't think that we can possibly find anyone to blame for that.
(I also think that Rob Pattinson and the characterisation through costume, speech/voice etc was quite perfect in conveying this idea of imperfection. Tyler Hawkins was a little rough at the edges: had crumpled shirts, a bare and worn face, fingers that weren't sure of themselves. It all culminated into an honest portrayal.)

Beyond that, it also caught my attention that this film is not about Tyler Hawkins. It's easy to think that way – I subconsciously did in all the times I've watched it before. Intrigued and obsessed I was of him, but only now do I as clearly understand that it is not the tragedy of his death in 9/11, not about the romance or the family he left behind... not even about the abruptness of which he went, and just as his life seemed to be getting better. Instead, knowing how the events would unfold and how the movie would end, in the last few moments one particular quote from the movie kept resonating in my head. It was a voiceover of one of Tyler's writings to his brother: "You once told me, our fingerprints don't fade from the lives we touch."

It was almost an epiphany forced into slow motion. The moments building up to the end it approached me like footsteps, getting louder and feeling heavier – clearer, and when I finally got to touch its tip this consciousness washed over me full force. It wasn't about, as Tyler says, our insignificance in the world, it was about what worlds we danced within, what hearts we touched, who we love and what we each have done for them. Without Tyler, I don't believe his father would have learnt that money and the ability to provide his children with a good, comfortable life can ever compare to time and the show of love. Without Tyler, I don't believe Caroline would learn in the way she has, in gaining strength and belief. And without Tyler, Ally would never have let her guard down, allow herself to be reckless, and therefore face her fears and the recklessness of the world. It all made sense: why the ending scene was so significant, why it was Ally as the ultimatum and no one else.

It isn't only a story about the happenings, challenges of one's life and how it came to end. It isn't a story about the sorrow of having to go without all the beautiful things left behind. In my understanding, it is more about how there are beautiful things that we do leave behind, and how those who remain can enjoy such privilege. There is a strength, an acute consciousness, and an awakened hope that lies in tragedy. That's the best way that I can describe it.




I've probably written about this movie before somewhere on this page. I'll go find it. And also, side note: The "Tyler" tattoo on Aidan's arm made me cry. I hadn't seen it before.

Love,
CLL

Vicky the Legend & Elle the Alien

Dear you,

Just this Tuesday, I spoke to the student population about my views on circles. I spoke about learning to accept that more often than not, who we are cannot be wholly encompassed by distinct categories that we unknowingly try to fit ourselves into. Categories such as "Science/Art kid," "Sporty/Not Sporty," even "Nerdy/Sporty," which are often believed to be mutually exclusive. For the longest time now, I have tried to understand myself based on how I fit into these labels and have found my efforts to be close to fruitless. But the repeated attempts, the meeting roadblocks of self-definition, the hair-pulling, the brow furrowing... has all culminated into a stark realisation of the possibility that perhaps, we aren't meant to understand, and be understood at all.

For how do we ever cease discovering and changing to ever come to a point of steadiness; an equilibrium that holds still long enough to draw associations to the finite number of which our own knowledge of the world is derived from? Would we ever be satisfied even, with the limitations of those self-same categories, to be all which we are and can ever be?

Because I've found that maybe we subconsciously attempt to understand ourselves by our adherence to such labels for the hope of simply being able to comprehend who we are, in the only way we know how. And perhaps this means we will always be lapsing into these socially-constructed outlines of what relates and what makes sense, grasping at the things we are familiar with to mould something comprehensible of ourselves. However, even with this knowledge of the difficulty to detach from a habit almost as innate as blinking, I hoped to share my thoughts with my peers to urge them not to limit themselves based on the pre-conceived categories they have set themselves in. I shared the opportunities and experiences I have had the pleasure of having, simply by being more accepting of possibilities; my various metamorphoses. Because it was only through my interest in my physical surroundings and in Science, that I decided to participate in a overseas Science research program when I was 15 despite my being labelled an "Arts Kid". And it was only my brushing aside my belief of not being "sporty" that I tried out for ODAC. Both of these experiences have made an incredible impact on my life, helping me break many barriers of self-limitation, and allowing me to meet wonderful people who have only taught me more.

It was hence at a perfect timing when my old friend from the 2015 Science trip contacted me to meet up while she is here on holiday. Today, I ate Makisan for dinner with her on the floor of my bedroom, catching up on the lost years that have passed since we enjoyed discovering and learning about the beautiful town of Da Lat, Vietnam. It turns out that Vicky's life has been immensely happening and simply awe-inspiring. As I listened to her talk about her scoring a scholarship to study in Austria and about her fellowship with Harvard, I often had to take a few moments to process the wonder that flooded my mind. Goosebumps rose on my arms as she shared about the almost miraculous process of her finding her current school, the places she has visited, and the people she has met along the way. I kept repeating, "You're living the dream."

I truly was listening to stories that only appeared in my imaginations; the opportunities she has had to explore the world and its inhabitants, as well as to intellectually stimulate herself and push her own boundaries filled me with admiration and envy. But I was also starkly aware of the amount of hard work and effort she must have put in to earn the opportunities she has had, and it washed over me again that where there is a will, there is always a way. I reflected on myself, and I still do, asking myself questions such as "what held me back?" and "why had I never thought to..." Because Vicky's platforms to find the path she has had were also available to me, yet in her short 16 years she has already found a way to experience and learn so much more.

In this week where I was reminded about the pressing need to begin acting on my applications to universities (a stressful and honestly dreadful process), meeting up with Vicky was not just a beautiful reunion of old friends, but has also provided me with inspiration and drive to seek out what I dream of without fear and without inhibition. After all, my future is mine to create and strive towards, and regardless of where life takes me, I hope I will go forth with the knowledge that I've put in every inch of my best effort.

xx,
CLL

Oranges

This is the first time you have made me cry not out of fear of what you could be,

But in terror of what you are.

My mind is torn

Apart, I turn over the words you say

Over and over,

Struggling to establish any structure;

A chip in your elusive language.

My world resorts to flipping itself upside down and then back again,

For a first, the heat was not the extirpator of my energy.

Rather it was the sheer force of your compulsion,

I was bare and unsuspecting to the lab of your mind which I was wandering right into.

I walked out of there

With an orange tinge in all the places you touched,

Your influence so contagious the host is forced into obliteration:

Even as I lay in pieces

I still screen your words into possibilities. 

Has what I've taken of you found what it looks for?

xx,

CLL