I was blinded for a few days. I can see with my eyes, but i couldn't see with my mind clearly on what truly mattered. I had been wavering these few months, being concerned about what i can and love to do. Someone told me that i should love myself no matter what i can and what i cannot do. I agreed, but yet i still felt very frustrated over the fact that i could not think of anything i could do very well. I got jealous when i see other people excelling in different things. I was blinded for greed for something. I called it a passion.

So, i went to look at internet, went to the library, and when my friends were playing their guitars and yoyos in the sky garden at suntec, i was going around looking for inspiration. And, in the end, i couldn't find any. So, i went to the playground and wrote some poems. I can only write out one of it here, and it's kind of negative, but i like how it turned out conveying what i felt like conveying at that time.

Searching For Something

Have you ever felt lost and empty
And you don't know what you're for?
You want something to prove your existence
And tell you that it's here for you

So you walk down the streets
Observing every stall
You walk into the library
Studying every title

After that, you tell yourself
"Nothing is for me;
he does this, she does that;
he has this, she has that"

What is this feeling of emptiness,
of not knowing your route?
What is this pain too slight to feel,
yet last too long to neglect?

Then you want them to look at you
To show you what you're worth
Then you want someone to take you
To show you you're loved

Then you want something to show you
What is your purpose in life

Then you start your search to find that one thing
To prove that you're here

That was about how i felt at that moment, just that i exaggerated it. I tend to exaggerate things in writing to produce more emotions. I felt drowsy and super tired after that. Negative thoughts can make people weak.

And then today, i developed my interest to writing abit more, and then my impatience and frustration of not knowing my "passion" reached the peak. I gave up and just did whatever i felt like.

Then, i tried again and realised how blind i was. Over greed, i've lost gratitude. I remembered how much i used to love writing. When my english teacher threatened to use essays to punish us, i was kind of happy. I actually looked forward to essay exams and i wrote all sorts of things on my own (though they make little sense now when i read them). What i called "my passion" had been right next to me. I love writing; that is why i got into the course Creative Writing for TV and New Media!

I opened my eyes and look forward to tomorrow. And then i realised something else: What i've desperately tried to achieve is to become a nerd. A nerd isn't soemone who sits at home and study the whole day. A nerd is someone who loves something alot. For example, an anime nerd thinks about anime the whole day. A music nerd thinks about music the whole day. A nerd is not an insult. It is merely a classification. Then i remembered myself saying something that make sense: Do not classify people, they are all individuals.

I do not want to be classified. I am me and i am living my life the way i want and i am making my own route. Nobody can mimic me.

I've opened my eyes twice today.