Everywhere is NOT the Same
Yes, I hear it all the time, ladies and gentlemen of this destitute island. I first heard it on the small screen of my television set, when my DVD player was playing to the tunes of the local movie, Singapore Dreaming, when one of the characters (the Sister) told her struggling husband to get with the times, suck up that pride and get on with that mundane and dead-boring job of his, because "Everywhere is the same". Then, I heard it again when my colleague repeated those chilling words to me, when I was lamenting about the drudgery of a corporate 9 to 5 job (in her case, it is 8 to 7), that "Everywhere is the same". If ear plugs can't save your ears from bleeding to listening to those words, your heart will stop and sink into the abyss from the starving of hope and spirit because you never saw that in some other place, in some other time, things can be different.
What do I say to the disillusioned? How do I sing a hymn that can break them out of their dark but contended void of emptiness that no matter where they go, all they will experience is the "same"? Is life to be filled with the routineness of a cog in a running machine? Are passions and aspirations meant to sizzle and fade, like a passing dream or a shooting star? Are people entitled to dream of the unreal, the unexpected, the different, even when everyone is shouting to the point of breaking their voice to shut up and do your job?
How ironic it is to hear people talk about different cultures, or to contemplate living in a different place, or to experience a different lifestyle, but the next day they jump back onto the bandwagon of mundane routine, thinking that "everywhere is the same". They look around them, they see no escape, they see no hope for their dreams, they know that they better sit down, shut up and look pretty otherwise they ain't getting their dough, or they will be shunted and vilified by the majority who continue to ask, beg and request that they all sit in the same mud hole together. But two seconds ago, an hour ago, a day ago, they visualised the greener grass on the other side, and for a second there, wished to be there. It's almost like knowing there is a real home for you, but you never can get it.
My fellow friends, you claim that "the grass will always look greener on the other side", but there is definitely a brown patch of mud that you know better not to step on to. And if all that shit is getting on you, why do you choose to grovel in it, and ask others (like me) to share in it with you? Why do you wish to tie them down and torment them that you are being "realistic" and that everywhere you try to go to will always be a muddy pool of dirt and filth? If it is already bad enough to be in there, what further harm can one person incur if he/she steps out and searches for new lands? Maybe you might find more endless mirage of a brown dry desert, but you never know if that other person may find his patch of fresh green grass with a sip of cool water. Yes, things now look differently, doesn't it?
I know and kid you not, my loyal defenders of despair and futility. For I have no objections to your choice in life, be an insurance agent, be a pretty sitting office lady, be a well-to-do corporate manager, be a obedient quack, be the person crunching numbers till the early mornings, be the person you have always felt comfortable to be, and the person that society may have asked that you designated yourself to. Passions and dreams? Fret! You know nothing of them, except that they are the kind of childishness and foolishness that an adult person should never dare to tempt him/herself with.
Me? I got my third finger up to the world; I got a crazy and raving mind to do as my passions and ideals take me; I am going to go on that spiralling merry-go-round, leave the jealous and envious behind, and claim reign in my own kingdom of unadultered self-fulfillment. No, no, don't wish me luck, don't pray for me, don't try to persuade and restrain me, and please, don't ever ever ever ever say I am a idiotic fool. Don't even think that I will always be happy and lucky in my journey. I won't be, and I know I won't be.
But darn it, I will obtain and live in the attainment of two things you only wish you can taste. One is freedom. Oh yes, you possess freedom but you don't have the mental strength to use it. The second is control. Although you are always in control, you have choosen to give it up. There's no control of who you are if "everywhere is the same". In fact, there's no you. Give it up as you please, whereas I still hold onto it, and still say it's mine.
Hey, I know that whatever I do, whatever I think, wherever I go, however I choose, whichever way I run to, things will just never be the same.