Hi World, I do not need for you to know me.

At a certain point of having this blog, I realised that I really wanted to be heard. I desired for my thoughts to be understood, for others to at least try to see it how I see it, regardless if they agree with me or not. But in all honesty that does not matter. I have discovered that now. That my goal was never to be understood by the world but by the few people I care enough to share what it feels like to see the world through my pair of boring, brown eyes.

Then isn’t it stupid for me to run a public blog when the obvious way to achieve what I really wanted is through personal communication? Well, I guess, but the more attached I am to someone, I find it harder to express to them my real thoughts. Especially the controversial ones I keep hidden. Also, I must say, putting my heart out on my sleeve isn’t something I am particularly good at.

Writing here is easy and between the two paths diverging ahead of me, I choose the easier one. As much as I know everyone who reads this are human, I do not put an identity on any of you, no faces attached to the views I get everyday. I am detached from you. So, I do not care what are your perceptions of me after you have done reading what I decide to tell you.

What I could do instead is maybe start a project like one of my friends have done. She writes letters to all the people around her. Despite the fact that she never sends them, it still serves the purpose: She gets her thoughts cleared up and it is kept private. Maybe I should start one as well. And maybe unlike her, I should hand them to people when I feel like the time is right. And just maybe, you might have one with your name written in block letters (cause I cannot write cursive)on a worn envelope with dog ears on two out of the four sides.

As for now, I have taken off the link of my blog from my public accounts. The only ones who have access to this blog now are people who have visited it or people who stumble upon it after being on the wordpress reader and they aren’t many of them. So now, this becomes more personal to me, well at least as personal as a public blog can get and I feel more safe writing what I feel like writing.

Ps: Also, recently I was hanging out with my sisters and I asked if they have read my blog and they told me that they had but they could not really understand what I was saying. They said it was too poetic (in a bad way). If you agree with them please tell me. I guess I sound like I am trying too hard half the time. Have I? I am not really sure myself.

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It’s been a while

I think, I think too much
And that’s another thing to think of
Besides the subject that is you
Running laps continuously around my mind
While I am always known as a slow walker
And I cannot keep up

My friends tell me they never know what I want
And I have never minded just settling with ignorance
But when every mention of you is accompanied
With multiples ‘i don’t know’
This once, I really care to know if I care for you

I seek left and right for some sort of advice
And there is one straight ahead who could help me
But how could I possibly ask you about you?
Even if your insights would be the most insightful

Timing is everything, I agree
So tell me if I should reopen this after a year
Or should I just let it go like I did three years ago?
You are 7 hours away but it does not matter
Because what are years and hours and memories?
They only make this sound more tragic than it is
When the only tragic thing is us stuck in GMT-friend

I’ll be honest, I am nervous
And if I’m lying I’d say I’ll talk to you today
All this time knowing today will never happen
Shall we trade experiences once this is over?
Today I wish for you to read this
Today I hope you could magically read my mind
Today I will stop being complicated and mess things up
All this time knowing today will never happen

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A reply to ‘Raison d’être’

Raison D’être

 

There are days when I force words out because my brain seems to act like a car sitting in the garage for too long, needing a few attempts before the engine purrs to life. Those days are hard and most of my work produced usually ends up in the draft folder I never revisit.

Then there are times when thoughts start to suffocate me and I cannot function. When my life looks like everything is right where it should be, but my mind is a mess I need to organise. It is then that my work seems less pointless. I guess because that is when I write the truth. Sentences that are not laced with exaggeration or randomly placed jargon to make it sound better.

I guess I write because there is actually so much about myself I do not know. This is partly because I never question anything really. When I am asked how my day went, it would take me a few seconds for me to actually think of it because I never do. I live knowing that I have to go through days however they turn out to be, so I never really cared if it was a good or bad day when I should.

I never really knew what I liked and what I do not. They used to be the same to me. I just power through whatever it is that comes my way. Maybe because growing up, I was never really in a position where I could choose for myself. Lessons are pre-chosen by my school or parents, I wear what is approved by my family, I do what seems to be appropriate to everyone else. I am a produce of a relatively constraint surrounding I would say.

Writing makes me question every underlying assumption I previously had. If not, what I write would not be convincing and if I am not convinced by it how would it ever help me sort out conflicts between the thoughts I have in my head? I do hope whatever I write would bring people pleasure or some sort of joy or satisfaction but essentially, they need to fulfill the main objective: for me to fully understand this loaned soul of mine and once I achieve that, hopefully I get to be a better person. Although that is arguable.

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Exam season is when I waste a lot time on wordpress to avoid having to finish readings I never bother to understand.

🙂

13 years

There are some things you just cannot seem to forget.

She came home when she was 8, report book squashed between multiple other thick textbooks in a bulky Digimon bag. Like any other night, after the 8 o’clock news, when both of them are resting in front of the television, she entered the room. The thin green book in hand as she made her way to the right side of the bed where he lay. She must have been smiling. She was probably 3rd or 4th in class. Never the smartest but it did not matter to her.

She handed the book to him, and he shifted further up the bed, leaning against the headboard, the flimsy book in his right while his left hand lifted his glasses above his eyes to rest on his head.

‘How could your average score be below 90?’

She had never thought of why she did not do better than she did so she really could not answer and just looked some place else. Her score was 86% or 87%, she could not really remember.

‘I’m not going to sign this, get your mom to do it.’

She was a little shaken and confused, mostly confused, so she took her book back and walked out of the room. It was either that or she moved to the left side of the bed, where the other lay and got her to scribble her initials in black pen instead. She must have slept on a salty pillowcase that night. The book was later returned to her class teacher, with the other’s signature on that page.

And all the pages after that. Every single one. She had never bothered to ask him for his signature after that day.

She is 21 now but she still remembers. Each time, it hurts the same way it did when she was 8.

I am sorry.

I love you, but I still remember.

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I know I sound depressed 99% of the time, but rest assured I am not. I am just into angsty writing. Whatever that means.

Just in case, anyone is wondering about my mental health. Who knows?

You take up too much of my sleep

You take up too much of my mind
And I hate how I allow this to happen
It is like I am saying
‘Hey, I see you lurking around the corner,
Come closer and let’s see what you have for me’

This is not a poem of devastating sadness
Of a love unreciprocated
Or about undividided attention
This is me too lazy to write paragraphs
But not poetic enough to write lines that rhyme

There are things I need to say out loud(figuratively)
To validate and maybe promote them
From being muddled thoughts
To half-assed poetry or whatever you call this

*

The people you love are not the ones
You whisper sweet nothings to
But the number you dial immediately
When you feel like the whole world is closing up on you

The people you trust are not the ones
You share your deepest secrets with
But the ones whose advice you accept
Because you have allowed their opinion to shape your decisions
It is almost similar to consensual dictatorship

The people you respect are not the ones
You speak politely to
As if your tone would hurt them physically
But the ones whose words you value
Even if they are completely not what you stand for

And if all these made up assumptions
Are actually true
Then you are the person I love, trust and respect
But that does not mean we are anywhere better
Than we were before I said it
We are too deep in debt with our own selves
To even start owing each other a part of us we cannot provide

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I care very much about what people think of me, but I wish that people not think of me at all.

The facets behind the social faucet

I need you to know that this is not me.

I am not a collected person, with collected thoughts. Not pensive most of the time with wise words spilling out of my mouth whenever it opens.I am not who I am on any of my social networking sites, not a single one. I need to clarify that who I am on my blog is not who I am on a daily basis. My blog consists of my thoughts when they are too much to be confined within the irregular spaces of my brain. These posts are me being swallowed by my own voices in the middle of the night, threatening the midnight silence.

In real life,

I am embarrassing even to myself. I read what I have written and I cringe but I have to do myself some justice so I shut my ego up and lock it somewhere far. Because my ego will not help me improve myself, my ego is satan dressed in my own skin.

I embarrass myself everyday, I am nowhere similar to my friends and they sometimes make fun of me but we love each other too much to leave anyone behind. I make jokes that no one laughs at or even worse I laugh halfway through a joke and never finish them. I make jokes no one can relate and I can never relate to jokes that are made by others but I laugh anyway. I laugh because it is nice to laugh together with others even when you have no shit what is going on.

I say stupid things every time, things that make my friends question if i am alright. But they know me too well to know that I could never convey what I think in the most cohesive way. That what I say could never really explain how I really think. Probably the reason why most of my essays are shit. In college, a boy once said that a statement I gave was probably the stupidest thing he has ever heard. So then I guess I must be one of the stupidest person he has ever met.

I am not a friendly person. Years ago, I would be so offended if someone says I am not friendly and I would argue with them about it cause I always thought I was. But some time ago I realised that I am relatively not friendly. I am bad at small chats and I could never give a good first impression. When I made ‘being friendlier to others’ as my resolution, that’s when I understood that I am not friendly. You are not friendly if you have to tell yourself that you need to be friendlier to people.

The photos I post are rare moments when I look acceptable in the eyes of the society. Photos that people my age consider ‘cool’ I guess. I have never bothered about the likes or my followers but I must say I do want people to think of me as someone who’s calm and composed. I am not. I have not met anyone clumsier than me. I ruin things too many times that nothing surprises me anymore. I spill things like it is my hobby and get into accidents like I take pleasure in things I cannot control.

I always like to think that I am strong and independent but I am neither. Living alone does not make you independent. Being able to do things on my own does not equate to independence when you are too emotionally attached to people. When the presence of someone is more of a need than a want. I have yet to reach the level of independence I wish I could have. And if it is not obvious enough, I am far from strong. I cannot give you any instances of me being strong. That just proves it.  My post on feminism? They are ideas I am too afraid too share with anyone. I cannot even stand up for my own race when my guy friends say misogynistic statements that make bile rises from my throat. Instead I smile, and mentally stab and mutilate every part of them in my brain. I am ‘that’ strong.

So,

I am telling you now that I am a joke. I have no chill whatsoever. Not a friendly person, not even smart. I am not strong and independent or anything similar. And as much as I hate all these sides of me, I have learnt that I cannot change them, well of course I try but these are deeply ingrained flaws I could never scrub away from myself. Just because I do not post things that indicate that these sides of me exist does not mean they do not exist. They do.

I am everything I love about myself and the flaws I have successfully accepted. Who cares if anyone likes me less because of all of this, I never declared myself as someone likeable. I never started this blog for the sake of others. It was always for me.

And there you go, another negative trait I accidentally expose.

I am also selfish. Haha.

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Insights

There are a few issues I am currently having with the situation I am in and I feel (as I always do) that these issues are not as significant as they ought to be. It is just that when I do not organise them in my mind, they are left scattered like that pile of dirty clothes that always cover your bedroom floor, appearing even when I do not feel like dealing with it, leaving my mind in a constant state of mess.

As you will soon observe, there is a reoccurring theme in my thoughts, most of them are very idealistic, coming from a privileged point of view. But I would like to cut myself some slack. I am 21, living in one of the most beautiful cities in the world and I am very blessed to do what I love doing: learning. This is probably the only phase in my life where I can get away with having an ignorant, simplistic view of the world. The few years where I could grant myself as much attention I am able to give. The most appropriate time for me to challenge my views whenever I want or pack my fallible opinions in a box and tuck them away and comfort myself by not having to confront the fact that they are not sound arguments at all.

Most of the projects or challenges that I have decided to take on are mainly because I am trying to understand myself. I need to know what are my limits, what are the lengths that I would go to for certain things. But most importantly to discover what I enjoy doing and what I could see myself doing in the long run. I never see anything I pursue as my end game. In simple terms, I do everything for my own enjoyment, I do them to avoid being bored at having a routine life (and sometimes just to humor myself but lets not talk about that). So, when people assume these are all done to fill up the spaces on my CV or to ease my way into the path that I wish to pursue after university, they are all wrong. I must say all the work that comes with being involved is not worth the 20 words you are able to fit into your CV to impress people and that people do not even care if you add your positions on your Facebook profile.

So do not do things for reasons other than to learn. Do not do things for the purpose of being able to meet certain people. Do not pursue something for the sake of the perception people will have on you. These are part of the experience that you will obtain but they should never be the purpose you pursue them. This may seem selfish but you should never do anything other than what makes you feel ‘better’? (I would like to use the term happy but it does not sound quite right, I was thinking of something more along the lines of satisfaction). Only be a part of something that makes you want to do it even when you are not obliged to.

Also, there are so many things that I feel like I should have some level of desire for but I do not. And that worries me because I have this assumption that you are only an adult when you desire what adults desire. So if you do not, does that mean you are not at that level of maturity yet? It is funny how we associate maturity to adults when all they do is desire for things that they have created themselves, ideas that they construct and later promote them as the larger things in life that everyone should aim for. Easy for me to say as I have yet to experience ‘real life’ and the problems that comes with it. I guess one day I will become one of them, with a tunnel vision for the ugly shade of green on printed notes and a narcissistic view of myself. I wish I could opt out of this stage of life, but I reckon I will not be able to. I just hope I do not die in this state.

And as for dealing with people I despise, I prefer to avoid them. Nothing good comes whenever I come in contact with them. I either repress my feelings which I think is not healthy for me, or I end up them cursing them in my mind or vent out to other people (I try to avoid this as much as possible because my thoughts on people should never influence how others think of them, that is sabotage and I am not cool with that), both are not great options. So the only possible alternative is to just retract yourself. It’s a win-win situation really, you do not have to bear with the presence of simply unpleasant people and you save yourself some sins that you would have committed otherwise.

There are so many things I should be grateful for, one being the friends that I surround myself with. I do not know what I have done to be so blessed but the people that I keep with me right now, know that they are the only people I would ever need. There are about 10 that I have in mind and I do not think that there is a need to explicitly mention their names but I need to put it out there that these people are the people I live my life for. The reason why I need to be good, the people I want to be nice to because they deserve having someone who is able to provide them with whatever they need to be happy and I am striving to be just that.

And on love, I think I have always known this all along but I have just been able to put it in words recently. I think you only truly love someone once you realise that you would love them even if you are not required to. More importantly I feel that love does not equate to dependence. That you could always love someone without the constant need for them. Otherwise, wouldn’t it be wrong if I love someone because I need them, because my goal is survival and they are just a mean for me to achieve that? I want to be alive and independent and then would I only want someone I consciously make the decision to invest my feelings in? It is almost as if I am saying here, I have everything I could possibly need in my life and I could die happy but despite having everything, I would go to great lengths to have you in my life even if I could have just lived it perfectly fine by myself.

Look, I have an essay of 2000 words due next week and I am stressing myself out but I have written 1200 words here without breaking a sweat. Now this really makes me wonder if I am doing the wrong degree or if this is just 1k of bull. No surprise, I have been producing crap worthy essays for some time now, this is just one to add to the pile.

haha

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