Facebook has been many things to me over the years – a communication tool, a cause for social anxiety, a stalking mechanism(!), but only recently did I realise its most importance purpose – a time capsule. Yes, it preserves our “fat” photos and awkward poses from the years bygone, but also valuable snapshots of our younger minds.
My generation registered for Facebook as teenagers, with minds like blank slates. “There was nothing up there”, we often joke when referring to our eighteen year old selves. Compared with our over-stimulated, over-thinking adult brains, it is almost impossible to recollect what had really existed up there all those years ago.
Thankfully, there are Facebook notes.
I still remember the night I wrote the following words. The university dorm I was living in built small study rooms at the end of each hall way, equipped with a round wooden table and chair, fluorescent yellow lights, and the suffocating scent of an all-nighter. That first year away from home, I spent many nights in rooms like that, revising concepts I didn’t understand and processing life changes that were happening too fast. My eighteen year old brain was in operating in over drive – vivaciously vibrant and exceedingly fragile, all at the same time.
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I’m alone, studying for an astrophysics final, and by chance I look at the date and time.
Mar 20, 2009
2.46am
It’s been six months. Six months since I packed my bags and flew half way around the world pursuing a dream that has occupied my mind for the past four years. It’s been six months since I said goodbye to Singapore, six months since the night I couldn’t sleep due to excitement, six months since stepping through Hull Gate, six months since coming to UChicago.
I’m often thought of writing emo notes in the middle of the night, but have never dreamt that I would actually write one. Perhaps now, in the midst of memorizing the special theory of relativity and calculating the age of the universe, is the time to reflect.
Six months ago, I thought I was prepared for America. Moving around the world is hardly a new experience, but this culture shock hit me hard. Then, the workload hits. Stress takes on a whole new meaing. It overpowers me, swallows me, consumes my days. Only after the papers are written, the problem sets handed in, the lab reports completed, and the readings finished do I have time to breathe, to have a moment to myself. Such moments have become more precious than gold.
In these six months I experiences so much joy, but I also shed tears of homesickness. I wonder what life would be like if I had chosen a different path. What would LSE be like? Living in London? Cambridge? Singapore? Canada? Life has so many possibilities, as I walk on 57th street I still find myself in disbelief that somehow the forces of fate led me to Hyde Park.
This note really doesn’t have a point. Its author is someone whose brain is fried from finals week, excessive time at the computer, lack of sleep, and over consumption of caffeine. I guess what I want to say is, if you knew me before September 20, 2008, I miss you, and our memories, with all my heart, if you got to know me after, I’m so so glad we met and that I can call you a friend in this strange land.
Thanks for being there for me through the most difficult time of my life.