Honest
At some point some time, I'd decided to stop being an intense person who take myself so seriously. I had, to an extent. However, I had never really been able to get over my truest insecurity or "emotional baggage", as I would call it, which is a perpetual feeling of disconnection from everyone (and everything).
I am generally a pretty lonely person. I don't like being lonely; I don't even like being alone that much, but somehow I just am. I can't enjoy the same games as the people around me, I don't go to clubs or bars or play basketball or soccer because somehow that just doesn't happen in my life. Although I'm supposed to be a "writing/English" kind of person, I don't even like reading that much. There are so many shows and movies that movie buffs like those in my poly talk about that I can't relate to. To put it neatly together, I'm not really anything - not a geek, not a jock, not a party animal, social butterfly, anti-social, or anything. I'm just this random dude that is kind of there, and I just kind of like a bit of everything.
The reason why I'm writing about this is because I'd been pretty sad these few days; I have cycles of happiness and sadness and every time we get to the sad part, it gets worse, so now I'm kind of spilling over. At some point, I had decided that enough is enough and I turned to spirituality to solve my issues. I tried focusing on my religion but didn't think that it worked. I tried the "law of attraction" but apparently everything was supposedly a bunch of rubbish. But I truly believe that we all have spirit guides and they are always guiding us.
Today, I came across this statement which I had somehow been seeing: "This is exactly where I'm meant to be at this exact moment."
So perhaps, this is where I'm meant to be right now. And maybe one day, I'll stop being here and start being there.
Labels: emo, reflection
Chinese New Year 2016
When we were told to smile
To be honest, Chinese New Year this year had been kind of disappointing, but it was this disappointment that made me remember certain things.
Ever since I started the habit of buying clothes whenever I felt like it instead of buying them right before Chinese New Year, this festival had lost some of its magic. When I was in secondary school, and actually, even in primary school, I would always look forward to wearing new clothes, because they would be lying in the cupboard, untouched, until the first day. The same went for CNY cookies and the sweet drinks. We would bug my mother when we could open them up and she would make us wait till the reunion dinner. Now, we've lost all these "rules". It's just different.
I also miss eating reunion dinner with my family at home without the relatives. When my grandparents were alive, that would be what we do. Now, we always head to some restaurant that my uncle really likes and eat with all my uncles and aunties and cousins. I guess it's nice in its own way, but I miss the older days.
The worst is the attitude we now have. At least till last year, I think I actually looked forward to meeting my cousins and going to Hougang Green or the neighbourhood with them doing nothing in particular. As years pass, we start deeming those things as pointless and boring, which they are. This year, I felt nothing.
To me, Chinese New Year used to be magical, and I can't wait for it to be magical again. It's funny how I realise that I miss my family when my family is right here with me. And when we're physically together, we're still apart.
On a brighter note, Wei Jian returned from Brunei for these two weeks, and on the day of his arrival, we met up because we wanted to throw him a surprise, which he already suspected. I dug out my PS4 box, Joshua and Jessica got some vegetables and luncheon meat and stuff, and then we filled the box with those things as a present for him.
Obviously, he didn't believe it when we showed him the box.
Then on Saturday, we met to go to Wei Jian's house, and I'm glad we did because this was the only day I felt like it was Chinese New Year.
It was the usuals: Cards, mahjong, steamboat, watching Youtube videos, watching embarrassing videos some of us made during secondary school (such as Joshua's singing and a crappy vlog we did during a chalet), and chatting with Wei Jian's mum.
Today, I took half a day off because I did duty on Sunday, and for some reason, I just miss home. Sometimes I have days like this.
Labels: emo, family, mehmeh, reliving those days, things that happened
A Family
I get the feeling that this post might just be the most honest yet because I'm writing this in what I think is emotional instability; it's going to be highly mushy, but I promise myself that I won't delete it, because ever since this year, I've vowed to myself not to take back what I say. I don't want to get the sense that there are no consequences to the things I let people see and hear. I don't want to filter myself because I want to live a more open-hearted life. But that's out of point.
Here goes:
If you read my previous post (which you probably haven't because I only wrote it, like, three days ago?), you might remember this part where I mentioned about this Facebook group that my secondary school clique used to post in, and how no one uses it anymore. If you've known me for long enough, you'll know that this group of friends is close to the most important thing I have in my life. I wouldn't say this too often, because it's embarrassing, but what triggered me to do so is the fact that I feel safe admitting it.
The previous time I revisited the page, I only scanned through. Today, for some reason, I missed them - it doesn't make sense because I spent so much time with them nowadays, especially this weekend - so I went to read some of the posts. I realise how much things have changed, and how life had made us better people, at the expense of some sort of soul in what we had.
You know how I'm pretty open about letting people know I value this friendship? This is nothing compared to what we used to say to one another. There was a period of time when all of us had a blog each. They would write posts that would later on (aka now) bring tears to my eyes because it was about how important the friendship was to them. I quote one of them here: "Our relationship may seem normal but to me it is 100% magical."
And then as time passed, we cross boundaries in life. We went from lingering individuals to poly, where each of us went through a bunch of things that make us more mature people, and then we went on to internship, then to work, then to university or army. Each step of the way distanced us from the past. In the midst of it all, we got into fights, some of us got tired and many of us made mistakes. Things changed. Changes are not always bad, but in this case, they were.
We, who used to laugh at everything, grew up and jokes that used to be funny were no longer cracked. I remember we used to meet almost everyday. We would cycle, explore the new park together, buy stuff for one another, celebrate birthdays, bake cakes, make cards, and do all sorts of stupid things. We were ~ thee 9 mehmehs ~. That was our soul.
The best part of the whole thing was our immaturity. It was our inexperience and the fact that we didn't know better. Most of us didn't know what we want to do for our future, neither did we really understand how people outside our circle, our neighbourhood, our school, and our perceptions were like. At least for most of us. It was a journey. We explored. We learned. We had a metaphorical growing-up-quick crash course. That wasn't much. I wanted more and better, but I didn't know that what I had is magic.
I try to recreate that feeling in life, but I can't. I try to move on, but days like this get to me. I know. I need to get a grip, but sometimes it's not the sad memories that stun you - it's the good ones. This bunch of people is family to me, more so than anyone else emotionally. It makes me guilty to think like that, but that's the truth. It had always been the truth.
Here goes:
If you read my previous post (which you probably haven't because I only wrote it, like, three days ago?), you might remember this part where I mentioned about this Facebook group that my secondary school clique used to post in, and how no one uses it anymore. If you've known me for long enough, you'll know that this group of friends is close to the most important thing I have in my life. I wouldn't say this too often, because it's embarrassing, but what triggered me to do so is the fact that I feel safe admitting it.
The previous time I revisited the page, I only scanned through. Today, for some reason, I missed them - it doesn't make sense because I spent so much time with them nowadays, especially this weekend - so I went to read some of the posts. I realise how much things have changed, and how life had made us better people, at the expense of some sort of soul in what we had.
You know how I'm pretty open about letting people know I value this friendship? This is nothing compared to what we used to say to one another. There was a period of time when all of us had a blog each. They would write posts that would later on (aka now) bring tears to my eyes because it was about how important the friendship was to them. I quote one of them here: "Our relationship may seem normal but to me it is 100% magical."
And then as time passed, we cross boundaries in life. We went from lingering individuals to poly, where each of us went through a bunch of things that make us more mature people, and then we went on to internship, then to work, then to university or army. Each step of the way distanced us from the past. In the midst of it all, we got into fights, some of us got tired and many of us made mistakes. Things changed. Changes are not always bad, but in this case, they were.
We, who used to laugh at everything, grew up and jokes that used to be funny were no longer cracked. I remember we used to meet almost everyday. We would cycle, explore the new park together, buy stuff for one another, celebrate birthdays, bake cakes, make cards, and do all sorts of stupid things. We were ~ thee 9 mehmehs ~. That was our soul.
The best part of the whole thing was our immaturity. It was our inexperience and the fact that we didn't know better. Most of us didn't know what we want to do for our future, neither did we really understand how people outside our circle, our neighbourhood, our school, and our perceptions were like. At least for most of us. It was a journey. We explored. We learned. We had a metaphorical growing-up-quick crash course. That wasn't much. I wanted more and better, but I didn't know that what I had is magic.
I try to recreate that feeling in life, but I can't. I try to move on, but days like this get to me. I know. I need to get a grip, but sometimes it's not the sad memories that stun you - it's the good ones. This bunch of people is family to me, more so than anyone else emotionally. It makes me guilty to think like that, but that's the truth. It had always been the truth.
Labels: emo, mehmeh, reflection, reliving those days
Killing Misery Step One
Just a list of things in my mind:
- These past few weeks sucked.
- I'll never tell my best friend the negative things in my mind.
- In fact, I'll never really tell anyone my problems because no one will understand.
- I'll never admit that my best friend is my best friend.
- I'll pretend not to be pissed, because that's the mature thing to do.
- But inside, I'm really killing whoever is at the other side of the fucking phone.
- Sometimes I brand myself as a pathetic loser because I'm the only one in my life asking anyone out. It makes me feel like I'm the only one who wants to hang out, which means that everyone else have alternatives.
- I suck at everything.
- I'm the most ignorant person I've ever met.
- I want to feel confident, but as I've mentioned, I kind of suck.
- When I ask someone out, I'm actually expecting a 'I'm not free'.
- I prefer sincerity over politcally correctness.
- I don't exactly enjoy alcohol, but I like the fact that they make me honest.
- I hate lying and keeping secrets, but that's what I do.
- I hate myself so much.
- What I do in my free time is really none of anyone's business.
- I'm not begging you to use the gift I gave you, but don't put it on top of a dustbin.
- I lose my patience at you a lot, and that's because I can never get through you.
- I hate you so much.
- I'll never admit to how important the people around me really are.
- I'll never admit to how much I really love to do what I love to do.
- I hate watching shows alone.
- I hate being alone in general, but sometimes I rather keep to myself.
- I hate talking about actors and singers and other boring stuffs.
- I'm self-centered. Full stop.
- When I do something, I put my all in it.
- It sucks when I can't do things.
- It sucks when I don't have things.
- It sucks but I'm not brave.
- And there are still much more I'm unwilling to share.
A Cycle of Insecurity
You are a 17-year old boy, devastated because you broke away
from your comfort zone – your closest friends. You’ve got to make new ones, and
fast. It isn’t a competition, but you know how these things work; if you’re too
slow, you’re left out.
The quickest ticket to acceptance is a common enemy. So the
moment someone pisses you and the rest of your acquaintances off, you get your
chance. Jump onboard and take the lead. Formulate a plan to make yourself
known. Go forth and fight this common enemy. You are one of them now. What’s
worse is that you aren’t even aware of your own plans.
And for the longest time, you’re pissed.
You learn to fight for yourself and protect your ideas. When
something goes wrong, something else triggers in your head and you protect
yourself at all cost. Correction: You protect your ego at all cost. You keep fighting for yourself, but then you reason it out
with everyone around you. You make sense, that’s why you’re persistent.
And for the longest time, you keep telling yourself that you
make sense, that you’re right. Somehow, you’re really sure you’re right.
At some point, you finally realized that you’re not always
right. All along, you had been so cocky, so narrow-minded. You want to change
for the better. And at this point, you realize your personality really needs
work. You need to be a better person.
Being a better person means working on your flaws. Focus on
your flaws and make them disappear. And fail. And blame yourself. And start to
feel that others are blaming you, but in truth you are the only one blaming
yourself.
Keep on trying to fix yourself and your surroundings,
because you think things can be better.
And you start to hate yourself. So you make plans to
revolutionise whatever goes on inside your head, or change your own behaviour,
or do anything that makes yourself a better person deserving of people’s
respect, and maybe love.
But you find everyone drifting away from you – your closest
friends, your new friends, even your family. Something blocks you from getting
to know new people. Something blocks others from you. You are all alone.
So just live it off.
Just think positive and it’ll all go away.
Your favourite character in a game says that problems are
smaller when you look at it from a distance, so you shall look at it from a
distance.
As expected, it all come back and bite, really hard and
really soon. You can’t take this anymore. You seek guidance and help, and your
helpline happens to have long arms.
You receive counseling. You admit that you feel like you’re
losing everything, and that you think it’s your fault. He tells you to fix your
life. You don’t tell him just how hard you’ve tried doing that.
You don’t try to think how things went wrong.
But you try to fix them. You keep trying. You wear a smile.
And when you go to him again, you finally tell him how much
you suck. You’re the cockiest person you ever knew. You don’t listen. You think
you’re the best. You shut people up. And you need to fix yourself.
But then he tells you, no, you think you overestimate
yourself, but no, really, you’re insecure. He says you think you suck. And you
do think you suck. The only thing you actually need to fix is to make yourself
stop thinking you suck.
So for a long time, you do things you think you’re good at.
Your life gets back on track. What you were losing, you got some back, and you
let go of the others, because sometimes it’s not you, it’s the world.
Things get better. You meet people. You fight worthy enemies
together. You build bonds. You’re at the top of the world. You have everything
and you want more. You are who you want to be.
But what if it’s all an illusion?
You watch your friends soar while you stand grounded. And
then you realize, you still suck. You haven’t changed. The world still looks
down on you. And that’s not their fault. You deserve it.
But it’s okay – that’s what you tell yourself. It’s okay
because you can live it off. What choice do you have?
And before you realize, you’re punching the bed. You keep
punching the bed, but you don’t know why. Somehow, you know it’s suppose to
make you feel better. But from what? There’s no one to get angry with. There’s
no one you want to punch.
Which tells you the truth.
The person you’ve always wanted to punch most was yourself.
And yourself you punched, again and again. You kept telling yourself that you
suck. You never loved yourself. You lied to yourself, pretended to love you,
but no, you don’t. The one you hated the most was yourself. The one you looked
down on most was yourself.
It’s not okay at all.
Labels: emo, personality, reflection, reliving those days
Beyond Reach
Negative stuff. If you're not up for it, just shoo!
One
You guys like to think that you are right, and that you understand my issues better than I do. Somehow, my stomach issues are fabricated by me, and it's all psychological, and a result of paranoia. How I wish. More than one person continuously hinted to me that my stomach isn't as bad as I feel, but what do others know? You're not the one feeling uncomfortable nights after nights. Not the one who wake up suddenly and wonder how to fall back asleep. You're not the one who can't eat oily food, milky food, acidic food, spicy food, fruits, can't drink coffee, tea, beverages, and anything nice. Of course it's easy to say "I think your condition isn't that bad". It's really easy to say "it's just a bit, nevermind one". But you're not the only one telling me that. So many people tempt me, and tell me to just take a little bit and nothing will happen. A little bit, a little bit, and then I stop and they say things like "you act like there's a hole in your stomach". What do you know?
I am really desperate to recover. I miss nice food. I miss my mornings with my coffee, and I'm always watching others eating stuffs that I want to eat, while I choose healthier and less nice alternatives. And I can't exercise because it'll hurt my stomach. So, I become skinnier and skinnier. I went to Malaysia where there were so much cheap food, yet I couldn't get anything. But I tried not to complain and not to act like I'm in some deep misery. I'm obviously not. But I'm so sick of this.
Two
I'm always like this. Even the first impressions I give are the wrong ones. Creepy, awkward, weird. You don't have to tell me. I know. And I'm desperate to change too, and I've been on this topic for who knows how many years. I wish I can be myself but not be alone.
Three
Sometimes people can be great hypocrites. Go on and preach about the truth in life, to preach about inner strength. Go on and insist on being independent, and insist on being flawed. But at the end of the day, the actions like to contradict the words. Then they end up alone, nowhere to go. Nothing to say. Nothing to do. Sometimes someone reaches out his/her hands, but these are hands of kindness. At the end of the day, one can only be saved so much. Sometimes I hate myself because of this.
One
You guys like to think that you are right, and that you understand my issues better than I do. Somehow, my stomach issues are fabricated by me, and it's all psychological, and a result of paranoia. How I wish. More than one person continuously hinted to me that my stomach isn't as bad as I feel, but what do others know? You're not the one feeling uncomfortable nights after nights. Not the one who wake up suddenly and wonder how to fall back asleep. You're not the one who can't eat oily food, milky food, acidic food, spicy food, fruits, can't drink coffee, tea, beverages, and anything nice. Of course it's easy to say "I think your condition isn't that bad". It's really easy to say "it's just a bit, nevermind one". But you're not the only one telling me that. So many people tempt me, and tell me to just take a little bit and nothing will happen. A little bit, a little bit, and then I stop and they say things like "you act like there's a hole in your stomach". What do you know?
I am really desperate to recover. I miss nice food. I miss my mornings with my coffee, and I'm always watching others eating stuffs that I want to eat, while I choose healthier and less nice alternatives. And I can't exercise because it'll hurt my stomach. So, I become skinnier and skinnier. I went to Malaysia where there were so much cheap food, yet I couldn't get anything. But I tried not to complain and not to act like I'm in some deep misery. I'm obviously not. But I'm so sick of this.
Two
I'm always like this. Even the first impressions I give are the wrong ones. Creepy, awkward, weird. You don't have to tell me. I know. And I'm desperate to change too, and I've been on this topic for who knows how many years. I wish I can be myself but not be alone.
Three
Sometimes people can be great hypocrites. Go on and preach about the truth in life, to preach about inner strength. Go on and insist on being independent, and insist on being flawed. But at the end of the day, the actions like to contradict the words. Then they end up alone, nowhere to go. Nothing to say. Nothing to do. Sometimes someone reaches out his/her hands, but these are hands of kindness. At the end of the day, one can only be saved so much. Sometimes I hate myself because of this.
Labels: emo
Unsaid
So many people are confused. They feel so much, yet their minds are cluttered so badly, so much so that they need a third party to sort it out. The human mind is a collection of threads. The threads always connect from one point to the other. Everything make sense after these connections, but when too much connections are made, one becomes entangled.
We need someone to sort us out. We need someone to fix us. Because we're a mess, and none of us is exaggerating. We're all messes, and we're all trying to declutter ourselves. Some do not try; they just wish. Some try too hard, and clutter themselves even more. Some are lucky, some are not. Some are clear and do not have tangles.
So many people are afraid. But so few show it. We see them as hypocrisy, judgement, tantrums, dependency, weakness, and more. What we do not see is what they really are. We know what must be done, but we seldom know what is needed to do them.
So many people are desperate. But they know only to suppress it. There is so much they want, so intense, but they hold it back. Keep themselves sane. Don't want to chase it away, yet deeply, inside, craving so hard. Yet when it flows away, grasping so hard. Losing it, yet afraid to hold on.
Sometimes we need others. We need to depend, yet we know the cold and hard truth that others may not be there for you. Others may not know what to do. The only ones who can save ourselves are us.
Yet sometimes, why do we try so hard to achieve close ties? And why, when we are nearing it, we just have to let it go? Why do we always feel like we are losing something?
So many people are tired. Because we all tried so hard, and we forgot to rest. We forgot how to rest. We forgot when to rest. And most of all, we are afraid that if we rest, we let go of our fists, and we lose things again. But holding on so tightly, we're bound to lose the energy.
It's ironic that we are so tired, so wanting to let go, yet we are so unable to.
Is everyone confused, complicated, yet trying so hard to simplify things?
Is everyone afraid yet fighting so hard to deal with fears?
Is everyone so desperate, yet afraid to hold on too tightly?
Is everyone tired, yet refuse to let go?
I said so many people do. But maybe it's just me.
We need someone to sort us out. We need someone to fix us. Because we're a mess, and none of us is exaggerating. We're all messes, and we're all trying to declutter ourselves. Some do not try; they just wish. Some try too hard, and clutter themselves even more. Some are lucky, some are not. Some are clear and do not have tangles.
So many people are afraid. But so few show it. We see them as hypocrisy, judgement, tantrums, dependency, weakness, and more. What we do not see is what they really are. We know what must be done, but we seldom know what is needed to do them.
So many people are desperate. But they know only to suppress it. There is so much they want, so intense, but they hold it back. Keep themselves sane. Don't want to chase it away, yet deeply, inside, craving so hard. Yet when it flows away, grasping so hard. Losing it, yet afraid to hold on.
Sometimes we need others. We need to depend, yet we know the cold and hard truth that others may not be there for you. Others may not know what to do. The only ones who can save ourselves are us.
Yet sometimes, why do we try so hard to achieve close ties? And why, when we are nearing it, we just have to let it go? Why do we always feel like we are losing something?
So many people are tired. Because we all tried so hard, and we forgot to rest. We forgot how to rest. We forgot when to rest. And most of all, we are afraid that if we rest, we let go of our fists, and we lose things again. But holding on so tightly, we're bound to lose the energy.
It's ironic that we are so tired, so wanting to let go, yet we are so unable to.
Is everyone confused, complicated, yet trying so hard to simplify things?
Is everyone afraid yet fighting so hard to deal with fears?
Is everyone so desperate, yet afraid to hold on too tightly?
Is everyone tired, yet refuse to let go?
I said so many people do. But maybe it's just me.
Labels: emo
Empty
You have to pardon me for being slightly emo for an extended period of time. I feel like a pouch carrying lots of marbles. These marbles are so heavy, and they are about to break me apart, but yet I just don't break. It doesn't feel too good either. Just a few days ago, I figured out the answer to why I was sad and I figured out how to think in a way that brings myself hope. It helped, a lot, but only for a while. My mood just go up and down, just like how my stomach gas just come and go. I don't even know when I'll recover, and you know I've been complaining about it for a million times already.
Anyway, these few weeks had just been so dull and empty for me. I don't know since when. I didn't feel like doing anything, and mostly I don't have the energy to do anything. I don't dare to do physically taxing stuff, like exercising or working out, because they may just overwork my body and make my stomach feel worse. And I can't eat fried food. Games I was playing before somehow no longer interest me. Final fantasy. One Piece. Same for some shows. Shows that I look forward to, such as Revolution and Once Upon a Time only come out once per week.
I don't even know why I'm writing this. It's probably because it's such a small matter, but at the same time something is bothering me. So for these few days, I just kept concentrating on CAs, because since there's nothing fun to do, I should at least be productive.
I love storytelling. My game for the CA was mostly storytelling. But work can only preoccupy you for this amount of time. Other CAs just give me unnecessary stress when I focus too much on them.
In fact, just the other day, I came upon the realisation that school results and grades may not be as important as I feel. I'm just insecure about my future. But I should really trust that the gate to my path will somehow find its way and open for me. So maybe I can afford to worry less and relax more.
I feel as if I'm writing to a therapist, which of course I'm not. I feel this way because I can't figure anything up. If I tell this to someone with psychology knowledge, he/she will probably talk about the subconscious and all those. Problem is, what of it?
I want to be happy and feel normal again, and I do, to a certain extent. Back to the marble metaphor, I feel like there is an additional layer of, let's say, leather, at the bottom of the pouch. I won't break because of the leather (aka my efforts to stay happier), but what I really need is to remove the marbles. I just don't know how.
Anyway, these few weeks had just been so dull and empty for me. I don't know since when. I didn't feel like doing anything, and mostly I don't have the energy to do anything. I don't dare to do physically taxing stuff, like exercising or working out, because they may just overwork my body and make my stomach feel worse. And I can't eat fried food. Games I was playing before somehow no longer interest me. Final fantasy. One Piece. Same for some shows. Shows that I look forward to, such as Revolution and Once Upon a Time only come out once per week.
I don't even know why I'm writing this. It's probably because it's such a small matter, but at the same time something is bothering me. So for these few days, I just kept concentrating on CAs, because since there's nothing fun to do, I should at least be productive.
I love storytelling. My game for the CA was mostly storytelling. But work can only preoccupy you for this amount of time. Other CAs just give me unnecessary stress when I focus too much on them.
In fact, just the other day, I came upon the realisation that school results and grades may not be as important as I feel. I'm just insecure about my future. But I should really trust that the gate to my path will somehow find its way and open for me. So maybe I can afford to worry less and relax more.
I feel as if I'm writing to a therapist, which of course I'm not. I feel this way because I can't figure anything up. If I tell this to someone with psychology knowledge, he/she will probably talk about the subconscious and all those. Problem is, what of it?
I want to be happy and feel normal again, and I do, to a certain extent. Back to the marble metaphor, I feel like there is an additional layer of, let's say, leather, at the bottom of the pouch. I won't break because of the leather (aka my efforts to stay happier), but what I really need is to remove the marbles. I just don't know how.
Labels: emo