A lot of my posts depend on my despair, heartache stories and anger at the world.

But I am no longer sad,

No longer heart broken,

Maybe just slightly angry, just not as much as before.

So what will be of this blog? God knows.

Another guy, another regret

Tap Tap

It’s been two years.

Tap

I admit, there are times (mostly at night) (mostly when I’m lonely) when you would sneakily slither into my thoughts. And just rest there, leaving me bothered with multiple what-ifs, what-could-have-beens, what-would-I-redo.

Each time my fingers creep closer to my phone. If I can just be courageous enough to find your number, buried underneath all the happenings of the two years, I would send you a message. Because more than my silly hopeful heart, I am burdened with guilt.

Tap

Guilt.

Tap

So badly, I want to tell you that I am sorry.

If not for me, none of this mess would happen.

That it was partially my fault for allowing this to balloon into something that was unmanageable for the both of us.

Don’t be mistaken. This apology is mostly for me to clear my conscience because I am sure, this has not affected you the way it did for me. And that’s okay.

Tap

Your number is no longer on my phone.

Tap

Great.

Untitled

They say I don’t talk much,

But I am constantly talking in my head,

They just don’t know that.

120 minutes

She was always told to never run away from problems, that brave hearts are never afraid of the challenges life randomly presents.

But not right now.

Her heart was not a courageous shield today. It had started running long before her limbs. Beating at an inconsistent rate, increasing its drumming with every passing second. A panic attack was starting to creep, making it difficult to swallow. The tremble running through her fingers was getting harder to control so she did exactly what her heart did, she ran.

The cry from her muscles being waken up from disuse was completely ignored as she pushed forward, trying her hardest to not bump into rigid shoulders. The last thing she wanted today was people giving her angry glances, generously throwing curse words at her.

She ran till she was out of breath. She ran because she needed some air. She ran till she could not recall why she was doing so and was one breathe away from falling over as her mind starts to cloud over. That was when she stopped and dropped herself on the vivid green expanse of the park, completely ignoring how the fresh dew is making her skin shiver, goosebumps starting to cover her tan body.

She shut her eyes for a long time, at least that was what she thought. She could not care less if it was a couple of seconds or if it had been hours. She had no space whatsoever in her mind to think about time.

The chirping of birds, casually resting on the crooked branch calmed her down. The music a pleasurable distraction and she opened her eyes to a couple of grey sparrows. If the sparrows could sense feelings, they would probably fly away as far as they could. Nothing that resonated from her presence was pleasant. Her aura emanated extreme fear, sparks of confusion and even the silent pain of not knowing how to feel. The ends of the grass were starting to make her ankle itch and the hem of trousers are slightly mudied as she continued to stare at the birds.

‘How.’ she whispered to herself. Should she see a doctor and seek help? Could she possibly be experiencing a mental disorder? Who could possibly help her now? How could she make sense of all of this?

Maybe it was just a one time thing. Maybe it will not happen again. Maybe there was just no explanation for it just like most things in this world. Like how babies knew that they had to breathe as soon as they were delivered or how the planets’ orbits are circular and not angular.

She played with her hands just so that she had something to do.

‘How’

Her skin feels rough and she skims over the small scar she had on the side of her right pinkie from when she was 10 and adventurous.

‘How’

With her eyes still closed, she thought of the classes she missed today. Maths.

‘How’

She thought about her flat at the corner of the main street. How the shower would never work seamlessly and the old washing machine placed at a very odd place in the kitchen. Pictures upon pictures of her dearest ones all over her wall in her room and the thought of that brought a smile as she slowly tried to compose herself and continue her day like it was just any other day of the semester.

‘Hey?’

A voice panted from a close range on her left. It was not a familiar voice, so she passed it off as a stranger passing by and continued thinking of her warm duvet and how it would feel good to get back home and be in her teal covered sheets.

‘Hey.’

The male came closer, a step away from invading her personal space and she was getting a little scared and annoyed at the same time. Involuntarily she furrowed her brows and stopped playing with her fingers.

‘You there’ he pants. ‘Lying on the ground’ he had to stop to take a breath and she guessed that he must have been running.

Her eyes opened abruptly and she sat up as swift as she could, turning to the source of the disturbance, giving him a not-so-friendly glare.

‘You should be less careless next time’ he pointed with one hand as the other one rested on his knees. His head slung down, a black cap covering his face.

‘What?’

‘Try not to leave things behind’ he raised his head up and she recalled the face she was looking -now staring- at. Same bronze skin with eyes that crinkled at the sides, she recognised the barista from previously.

He pulls out a dark blue purse from his pocket and hands it over. ‘Especially not something as important as this at least’

He chuckled while looking down at his jet black trainers. His fingers were still curled around the purse, hand stretching out but she was not showing any signs that she was going to take the purse from him.

‘How did you…’

‘You took off all of a sudden like you just saw a ghost or you were possessed and I saw you sprinting towards the park…’

He should probably stop and notice the half annoyed, half confused look plastered on her face while she attempted to cover her expressions hoping she would not come off as rude.

‘But obviously not being a mind reader, it took me quite a while to locate where exactly you are in this massive area. God knows what my manager would say now when I get back.’ He continued to ramble, arms resting on his hips, purse still in hand. Beads of sweat were starting to form on his forehead but he did not bother wiping them away, the sight of a little boy chasing his golden retriever as if he would lose him otherwise kept him distracted.

‘I mean, it’s not as if we’re all that busy. We have new workers coming in recently and they have been keeping up quite well to my surprise.’

She wondered for a second if she had even asked anything related to his job but she had not and so her mind took her back trying to remember what exactly she had said to cause this peculiar stranger to start telling her things she could not care to know.

‘I could not just leave your stuff in the cafe and wait for you to come back. Honestly, it seemed as if you weren’t going to come back and if you really didn’t, I’d have to send this off to the police station and make a report which isn’t necessarily what I would like to use my time out of work for. All those forms and having to talk to people in uniforms’

‘You are in one.’ She interrupted, out of a sudden.

‘In what?’

‘A uniform.’ She pointed at the dark green apron he was wearing, that covered his entire front with an intricate logo in white. He looked good in it, well as good as anyone could ever be in an apron that is.

‘You know it’s different.’

She did not bother to answer.

‘You can take your purse anytime now’ Hand outstretched, waiting for her to take the goddamn purse from him.

‘Thanks, you didn’t have to.’ She took it from him and started to
pick on the lose thread along the zipper. ‘It’s not like it’s important when I can’t even remember my days anymore.’ She mumbled under her breath, looking away.

‘I’m sorry, what?’

‘I didn’t say anything.’ She lied just so that he would go away. ‘I said thanks. That’s all I said.’

‘Yeah, don’t worry about it. I guess i’ll head back now and and hope I don’t get my pay cut from being out too long.’

She had stopped paying attention to him by now. Buds are starting to grow from the bald trees around her. It is already spring based on the calendar but this year, the trees are taking their own sweet time to adjust and transform the the town into a romantic shade of pink.

‘See you next time you drop by then. Maybe I could give you free coffee if I’m around and yeah, just say hi.’

The boy from earlier have caught up to his dog and is currently hugging him with all his might to stop the dog from running away again. His parents a distance away, laughing at his futile efforts.

She could not exactly remember the moment he left or when she started being alone again but it made no difference. She was doomed anyways.

She fell back, hitting her head hard on the ground and closed her eyes. She grunted at the pain and wished everything would just disappear and this day would just end and her mind would just start working again and her memories would come back to her. And everything, everything will be okay again.

The cold wind blew her hair away, strands covering her face leaving her looking almost ethereal.

The same gush took her consciousness away.

Her time was up.

Hi, am I a couple years too late if I decide to attempt this whole blog-writing again? Maybe. But whose timeline are we using? Who is determining whether it’s too late other than myself?

And why, oh why do I always decide to casually write again when I have an essay due shortly?! Why do I despise writing when I actually have to?

Why am I ranting?

Why are you even reading this?

This

“This is the hardest.” I say to my side, as I turn my head to look diagonally to the guy staring straight at me. I get ready myself to serve this time. A doubles game currently taking place, our eyes locked to each other. Taking a deep breath, I continue for our team.

Serve, run, smash, distract myself.

I lose the point.

“No. This, is the hardest.” He whispers to me as I walk towards the other square. Again, the guy on the other side of the net stood diagonally from me, waiting for me to be ready before he swings his racket. His look is similarly intense, focused on the game, focused on me.

He is right. This is harder, not the previous. Not having to force myself to focus on him, locking my target as I prepare myself to play, but him looking at me, in the most serious kind of ways. There is no possible way for me to escape his gaze, as if there is no net separating us, as if he is not standing halfway across the court.

I am glad that half the court away, he stands, completely oblivious to this small conversation happening. There is nothing left in me except the feeling of longing and the memories of spontaneity, fearless decisions and persistent actions.

But the worst is none of the above.

It is the fact that I am easily readable by this guy on my side, no context needed to understand the subject of my sudden comment. As close as we can be, we can never be close enough in the ways that I would have desired.

The one that got away is the one in my present, who’s standing next to me, not the guy of my past. Yet, I know for certain that it is my present who will haunt my late night thoughts years from now.

What defines you?

A: Hey do you know Bob?

B: Which Bob?

A: Oh , Bob. The ***** one.

B: Ahh, yes I know who you’re referring to.

 

I’m confused.

I’m confused about myself and I’m sure all of us has been there at some point. I’m a pessimist -if you didn’t know that about me and I’m not trying to gain any sympathy from this- so I’ve never really thought highly of myself. But what I have been relatively confident about myself is my intelligence. Not that I think I’m intelligent but I like to pride myself to think that I am a tad bit above average -I’m average or below average in everything else- in that department.  And frankly, besides that, I don’t think I have anything to fall back on, no other talents, no looks, no honourable characteristics. So when I receive bad grades in school, I take it quite hard. This recently happened again, and I’m now a little lost and confused. Should I find another resource to define myself with? Is there some other hidden parts of me that I can possibly utilise? Should I just disregard grades as an indicator of my identity? I’m not convinced by any of these suggestions maybe in time I’ll come up with a good one to re-calibrate my thinking.

So, what’s yours?

What is that one thing that defines you?

Is that what you want to be known for in the first place?

Can you change how you define yourself?

And finally, who decides what defines you?

Unnumbered thoughts

After a long break, this is what I came up with -somewhere in between sheets and dreams- on a Wednesday night.

 

My feelings are mine,
They should never be something you concern yourself with.

My feelings are for me,
To be entertained when I’m bored
Not for you to be burdened with guilt.

 

ps: Apologies, they sounded so much better in my head half asleep.

A life review (Third year)

It’s the end of my third year of university. I’ve been telling that to myself repeatedly now but it has not settled in. True, I have one more year to go but it is just hard to process that this phase is actually coming to an end.

To most, university is a means to an end. You want to get into a prestigious university to ease your way when you’re entering the work force. But for me, university IS my end. I think it was when I was 8, that the idea of studying abroad came to me, after one of my family member left for Australia for uni. Starting from then, I go through each round of exams, knowing that those were all means for me to achieve my goal, which was to get into a university abroad. Now, that I’m here, I’d be lying if I say i’m not slightly clueless about what I’m going to do next. Cause i’ve done it guys, I’ve fulfilled my biggest life goal.

Third year. To sum it up, it’s the year that I lived with no regrets. I was able to enroll in a summer school program, in a good university (Peking Uni), doing a course I absolutely enjoy (Mandarin), all while being able to travel around China (Yes, I’m including China in ‘third year’). And although I’m not going to say that all my courses were enjoyable and applicable in the future -I’m referring to you, Global Justice and Citizenship- the majority of it was. Like, how cool is it to be learning about Political Islam and the Politics of Sex and Gender? The courses may sound cool, but the contents will blow you off your seats. I don’t think that any other courses have impacted my political opinion and my general view of the world as much those two have. In all honesty, before third year, I was getting sick of Politics, sick of IR and academia and all these white privileged men telling me about everything that happens in Europe and America. It’s as if no one else exists, no one else matters. And it was so tiring to the point that I really questioned my degree. Hey hey hey, not anymore, ey.

Let’s also not forget all the friends I made this year. The new people I met, who surprisingly have become relatively important subjects considering the short amount of time they have existed in my life. Not forgetting my decision to dive into the world of relationships and although I’ve closed that chapter, I must say that I don’t regret ever trying it out. Most of it due to the fact that my partner was the best person I could ever choose to do this whole romance thing but alas, I realised that having feelings for someone and committing myself to a relationship are two very different things. While I am not opposed to the prospects of being in a relationship, I am quite sceptical now that I understand more about myself, my priorities and the lengths that I would go to for a person. In the future if someone manages to change my opinion then yay, great! but if not then, yay, great!

I am pretty sure that none of this is of any interest to anyone but I must say I enjoyed writing this unstructured, unimportant, post on my life. No tutor is going to comment after each chapter, no one to correct any errors or criticise anything I say. Cause really, who knows better about my life that myself right?

End of ideals

Romance lives in dreams
And marriages are only ideals
Best kept in the realms of what if’s
Where its buds grow into beautiful fairytales
Pluck them out from where they should be
Expose them to the harsh realities of the world
And it withers, crippling under harsh conditions

This is a warm up exercise. I want to comeback with longer pieces and non-poop writing. Hopefully, it will come sooner than later. Cmon angst, hit me up here.