two thousand fucking eight
It gets increasingly hard to pen my thoughts, mainly because it is seriously getting all too messed up in my head. I am seriously losing objectivity in my thoughts.
In this last couple of week of 2008, I would like to officially put on record that this is one bloody fucked up year for me. In just one year, all that I have worked very hard for the past 2 years have been undone. I am back on my knees and I swore to myself I will never let this happen again, yet it did.
Financially, I got fucked. 2/3 of my life savings got taken away by the falling equity market. I wish to take this chance to thank all you reckless bankers out there. I paid a premium for my Australian PR application which till date have not been approved, or even looked at. And to top it off, 5 months of effective unemployment emptied the rest of my bank accounts. The failure of my freelance work because clients could not afford financing did not help either.
Career was the reason I left Melbourne for despite the fact that I was actually happy living there. I take full responsibility for my action and only my greed was to be blamed. The job in Malaysia went as planned, got promoted rather quickly too and for a moment there, it all seemed well. Not for long because I soon felt there was more to it, I could no longer ignore what was missing. I need more than just a job.
I’ve always like to think of myself as a drifter but for a moment I knew I’ve found a place to actually call home. That moment was in April, when I returned to Melbourne to graduate. I supposed it’s true that gum trees do make all the difference. Forget the job, never mind if it’s going to take a while for me to catch up on my career. It is home, as long as I am able to pay the rent and read my papers while I sip my coffee, nothing else really mattered all that much.
And hence the urgency to apply for an Australian PR, which by no means was cheap. At that moment it seemed all worth it. Nothing else seemed to matter as I was all set to return to Melbourne as soon as I could. I was indeed so sure of the decision that I even quit my job in July. I figured I could do without the stress and take a good break in anticipation of my PR. It used to take half a year to be approved but alas, until today, there have been no news on my application.
Even if I did manage to get back to Melbourne, things can only be described as bleak. Unemployment is at an all time high. More than a couple of people I know got cut loose. Retrenchment is very real and I can’t afford to finance unemployment much longer, not when my savings went the way of the stock market. All time low.
So as reluctant as I was I had to rely on the fallback. Singapore. I have always had a love hate relationship with that place. It has too much of the past and yet there is still space for the future. With calls made, resume update and extra portfolio prints added, I headed south and got the job. Got a good pay, no negotiations needed. Contract was signed and although I would be lying to say that I wasn’t sore about Melbourne, I was contented with Singapore.
But like everything else, that was short lived. The Singaporean government rejected my employment permit. So here I am, stuck in a screwed up country laden with racist corrupted government. Here I am, at a lost because I ran out of options. And here I am because I was born in the wrong country with the wrong skin colour.
Prison it is. It sure feels so. What difference would it have made?
In this last couple of week of 2008, I would like to officially put on record that this is one bloody fucked up year for me. In just one year, all that I have worked very hard for the past 2 years have been undone. I am back on my knees and I swore to myself I will never let this happen again, yet it did.
Financially, I got fucked. 2/3 of my life savings got taken away by the falling equity market. I wish to take this chance to thank all you reckless bankers out there. I paid a premium for my Australian PR application which till date have not been approved, or even looked at. And to top it off, 5 months of effective unemployment emptied the rest of my bank accounts. The failure of my freelance work because clients could not afford financing did not help either.
Career was the reason I left Melbourne for despite the fact that I was actually happy living there. I take full responsibility for my action and only my greed was to be blamed. The job in Malaysia went as planned, got promoted rather quickly too and for a moment there, it all seemed well. Not for long because I soon felt there was more to it, I could no longer ignore what was missing. I need more than just a job.
I’ve always like to think of myself as a drifter but for a moment I knew I’ve found a place to actually call home. That moment was in April, when I returned to Melbourne to graduate. I supposed it’s true that gum trees do make all the difference. Forget the job, never mind if it’s going to take a while for me to catch up on my career. It is home, as long as I am able to pay the rent and read my papers while I sip my coffee, nothing else really mattered all that much.
And hence the urgency to apply for an Australian PR, which by no means was cheap. At that moment it seemed all worth it. Nothing else seemed to matter as I was all set to return to Melbourne as soon as I could. I was indeed so sure of the decision that I even quit my job in July. I figured I could do without the stress and take a good break in anticipation of my PR. It used to take half a year to be approved but alas, until today, there have been no news on my application.
Even if I did manage to get back to Melbourne, things can only be described as bleak. Unemployment is at an all time high. More than a couple of people I know got cut loose. Retrenchment is very real and I can’t afford to finance unemployment much longer, not when my savings went the way of the stock market. All time low.
So as reluctant as I was I had to rely on the fallback. Singapore. I have always had a love hate relationship with that place. It has too much of the past and yet there is still space for the future. With calls made, resume update and extra portfolio prints added, I headed south and got the job. Got a good pay, no negotiations needed. Contract was signed and although I would be lying to say that I wasn’t sore about Melbourne, I was contented with Singapore.
But like everything else, that was short lived. The Singaporean government rejected my employment permit. So here I am, stuck in a screwed up country laden with racist corrupted government. Here I am, at a lost because I ran out of options. And here I am because I was born in the wrong country with the wrong skin colour.
Prison it is. It sure feels so. What difference would it have made?
