Hierarchy of needs; contrived solidarity; dying

Here's an amusing quote I read in an essay by Abraham Maslow. You know, the guy who came up with the hierarchy of human needs.

"For the man who is extremely and dangerously hungry, no other interests exist but food. He dreams food, he remembers food, he thinks about food, he only emotes about food, he perceives only food, and he wants only food."

Doesn't it sound funny?! But I know exactly how it feels to think, feel and dream food during times of hunger. During that one week diet I was flipping through recipe books all the time, and I had no mood to do anything philosophical or whatever. Even Marlow in Heart of Darkness concedes that hunger supercedes all other inclinations.

"No fear can stand up to hunger, no patience can wear it out, disgust simply does not exist where hunger is; and as to superstition, beliefs, and what you may call principles, they are less than chaff in a breeze."

I guess 'starving poet' would be an oxymoron, then. If one is starving, how do you have the mood to wax lyrical about hidden meanings and great ideals? Unless you've attained some kind of like, zen or nirvana-like state and basal needs are of consequence no more. If you replace the word 'hungry' with 'besotted', and 'food' with the name of a crush, it would be pretty fitting too, eh.

The hierarchy of needs is as such:

1. Physiological needs
2. Safety
3. Love and belonging
4. Self-esteem
5. Self-actualisation

It needs to be sequentially fulfilled before you can move on to the next one. In current society, basic needs such as food and water can be quite easily met, and so is safety as unlawfulness in Singapore is quite under control. Love and belonging is the next rung up the ladder, which can easily be fulfilled if you've got a caring and supportive group of family and friends. Self-esteem basically means feeling good about yourself. Self-actualisation is when you're doing what you are meant to do. An individual can never be content if he is not doing what he is fitted for. A poet must write, an artist paint. It is at this level where individual differences are the greatest. At the basal levels, we all need food, no questions ask. But as you move further up the rungs, we start to become more and more distinct as characterised by our unique requirements.

So when you've fulfilled the lower needs, you move on to the next one. And here's another interesting quote: "A want that is satisfied is no longer a want." So true, isn't it? We've got to be a little bit deprived before we can be motivated to do anything. We are apparently motivated by what we lack, according to this Maslow person. Which is quite true. Sometimes when you've gotten what you want, it doesn't seem so appealing anymore. I'm sure there must be a name for this syndrome. It's so widespread it surely warrants a proper term for it. I remember reading it in Attracting Terrific People but I don't have the book with me anymore. It's actually a crap self-help book; don't know why I borrowed it. It's humourous, at least.

Moving on to more frivolous topics, we have gotten a team bag.


It's not my style; I'm not really into sweatshop labour duffle bags, you know. Look, with outsourcing and everything, I know sweatshop labour is actually beneficial for the poorer developing countries: minimal wages are better than having no job at all. What irks me most is that I'm paying capitalist prices at sweatshop wages. I simply refuse to do that. It's not ethical. I am perfectly fine with going to cheap shit places like Bugis and whatever and hunting out goods of inferior quality that are also tagged at inferior prices. As you can see my sense of ethics is pretty warped. My ethics are of the variety that as long as it benefits me (without harming others) then they are valid. Hoho.


Look at how it overpowers my small frame. I still can't get used to its bulkiness; I'm much more acquainted with my white bag. Which matches my white brocade shoes that matches my glittery watch! Now I look like an incongruent mess. But oh, who cares about looking well-put together in school, right. We're a sports CCA after all; we need to look sporty. I generally disapprove of such outward displays of unity: if a group is truly united, there's no need for such a blatant profession of team spirit, is there? Same with similarly cheesy things like couple tees, couple this, couple that. But well, majority wins, so got this bag.

What I'm really aching to see is how well these material objects can manifest our "team spirit", or lack thereof. Is it because we are united, that's why we get team items? Or because we need team items to constantly remind us of the unity that we are supposed to be striving for? I'm probably the only one cynical enough to bear such dampening sentiments. Just as well. We'll all be happy, then. Right now, the other senior girls are like, as obsessed about losing weight as I am, so we always talk about food and nutrition and shit. It's actually quite enriching. After a while, you swop so many facts that you forgot whether you researched a particular fact yourself, or you were told about it.

I am considering watching the NJ versus JJ soccer guys match on Friday. (I'm not intending to go to school, you see. I'll probably be quite free.) Problem is, it's all the way in bloody Pasir Ris (i.e. MJC) and I have my reservations about travelling all the way to the ends of the island. Bloody strange, right? We have a spunky synthetic field and the match isn't be held at our school. *shrugs* The world works in mysterious ways, yo.

Oh, after training today, Val and Michelle randomly popped up and asked if I could run for Ignis 4X200m. 0.0 I thought I could get it over and done with after the shit-ass 400m race... Gruelling lah, especially after running four rounds of fartleks. (sprint the straight stretch of the track, jog the curved stretch) But I survived anyhow and we emerged fourth. Not bad at all, not bad at all, taking into consideration circumstances and everything.

Remember the chocolate cake that Jacinda baked for her boyfriend? She actually SMSed to tell me that she saved a slice for me!! Is that sweet or what?! I was merely jesting when I said, "Eh, must save a slice for me ah." It was just a way of making small talk to avoid sounding overly business-like when figuring out the nitty-gritty of when and how she'll get to my house to bake. And she actually remembers!!! I simply adore thoughtful and considerate people like that. They really make me feel like there is some good left in the world. I detest empty promises. Overpromising and underdelivering. Not that I am completely guiltness of making empty promises, but I try my best to avoid them. So far, here are a couple of promises I made but never fulfilled that occasionally rankle in my soul when I think about them:

1. I was supposed to lend Peirong Sophie's World. I never got around to doing it. She has now graduated and I will forever feel like I owe her something.

2. I was supposed to bring some newspaper articles for Tammy but never got around to doing it. I presume she got someone else to do it, because she didn't bug me for it.

Yes. I really try my best to avoid making promises offhandedly. The guilt sticks for life, man. I don't know how other people manage it. Maybe they never mean what they say. These people deserved to be stoned to death. I would hate to lie on my deathbed thinking of all the promises I never fulfilled.

Some people came from a hospice to talk to us about death today. It was quite... unsettling. The guy posed this question: Who would you call if you were caught in a confirm-die situation, like onboard the planes that crashed into the twin towers?

I was damn stunned man. I couldn't think of who to call. Not really. More like there are so many people I want to call, and I don't know how they are going to take it. I would probably call old friends that I've fallen out with, just to, maybe, I don't know, give things some kind of closure. And perhaps make them feel like shit that I'm dead and they can't do anything to redeem themselves anymore, ha ha ha. But I don't want my friends to feel like shit! It'll be so hard on them. Maybe I should just keep my phone turned off, shut my eyes and die with a heavy weight on my heart.

Damn. And the thought that I could die right this moment (maybe the laptop will explode in my face?) is quite unpleasant; I have sooo much emotional baggage to offload. But I guess it wouldn't matter, because I wouldn't be able to feel at all when I'm dead. I'll just feel super sucky at the point of death, that's all.

P.S. I mistakenly wished someone happy birthday when her birthday isn't today. Fucking embarassing. Shall never wish people happy birthday unless I'm 100% sure.