On the outside

I always wonder, do blind people love more sincerely than people who can see? Blind people rely on their sense of touch as they trace the contours of people's faces. They recognize their loved ones from the shape of their cheeks to the curve of their lips and the outline of their jaws. How do we do it? We take in their entire faces, often not even recognizing all their facial features. To us, they all just blend into one complete picture. If that picture is distorted, somehow the person doesn't seem the same to us anymore.

We're constantly bombarded with inescapable urgings to conform. That glossy magazine cover graced by a size zero model. That huge billboard telling us that we look better if we stick additional individual lashes on our eyelashes. That magazine filled with photos of men with square jaws, deep set eyes, and six-packs to boot. They tell us that these are what we want. What they don't tell us that some people are meant to be size six, not zero. What they don't tell us is that sticking individual false lashes is a lot more work than you think and that we might not even look half as good as the girl in the picture. What they don't tell us is that these men aren't necessarily the best ones out there. What they don't tell us is what we often fail to see because we lap up these messages and embrace them as our principles.

The obsession with trying to be better than we already are - when did this begin and when will it ever end? Or will it ever? Which one of us hasn't ever thought that we will be happier if we are smarter or more beautiful or skinnier? Which one of us hasn't ever looked into the mirror and thought about the flaws we see staring back at us while disregarding the other, beautiful things we should see?

I have a friend who tells me about the good-looking guys she meets. She tells me how she is attracted to their looks and occasional charms. She tells me that they fall into her category of dream men. During our conversations, I often wonder, is this really what it's all about? Getting that hunk, that model-lookalike as arm candy? To show off to other people that hey, look at me, I scored a smoking one. She talks about them with a glow that I rarely see. She speaks with excitement and a huge smile, while I... well, I smile at all the right places and slip in my comments every now and then. There is no reason for me to be such a wet blanket anyway. If she likes them that way, that's her prerogative.

She doesn't believe that I value people's character traits more than their looks, particularly with the opposite sex. After all, how do I rate my liking for a guy then, she asked. I frowned for a while. Do you think I am that shallow? I asked her. How can I not be entitled to my own opinion? So what if my ideal guy differs a lot from yours? Sure, I think the conventional hunks are attractive, but that's it. Do I obsess over trying to meet and fall in love with one? If I say no, does that change your perception of me that much?

So if a guy isn't good-looking, why is he worth liking so much? she asked. I kept silent for a while, wondering how someone I thought knew me well could be so wrong. Because he just is, I said. I didn't think that any answer I gave would suffice to satisfy her curiosity. I like him because he is kind, helpful, and treats people with respect. She listened, gave it a little thought, and said, I still think looks rank above those. I shook my head slightly and rested my case. I knew this was not a discussion worth carrying out any longer.

I didn't want to condemn her views. Neither was I trying to persuade her to think the way that I do. But I wished that she'd understood me better and seen where I was coming from. I asked her why she thought I hadn't talked about any sort of relationship interest in such a long time. I just don't feel like it. I know I don't divulge a lot of things here. Sure, you read about how I shop with my friends, mourn over my pet's death, deal with stress, but there are many things I almost never touch on. Sometimes I skim the surface with subtlety that I think, years from now, even I won't understand. But so what if the last person I liked wasn't a good choice, for more reasons than one? So what if he isn't the best-looking person around or the most well-mannered one? There is always more to a person than what meets the eye. True, sometimes what we see is what we get. But even then, there is more beneath that surface, if we would just take the time to find them.

My choice might have been odd and unexpected, unlike her predictable ones. My choice might seem distasteful to her, but I stand by the fact that my feelings were based on more concrete reasons than the fact that he dresses up well and looks good in photographs like the ones she likes. Popular opinion, I've learned, can be really misleading. It makes us judgmental without us even realizing it. But then again, you may be thinking that everything I've said so far is judgmental. I apologize if anything I say hits a sensitive nerve, but my stand remains unchanged.

She plans to keep on the chase, she said. It's thrilling, like an adventure. Good luck, I said. Tell me if there are any sparks flying around, she said, like she always does. I smiled. Maybe.

Parts and parcels

I haven't posted in a while because I was busy basking in the bliss that was the holidays.

Chinese New Year was so-so, nothing too spectacular nor drab. My flight going back was delayed due to some technical problems. The flight was initially retimed to depart an hour later than scheduled (and I only got to know this after I checked in and entered the departure hall with only a cup of coffee as my breakfast) so I had to find a seat, station myself there with my belongings while reading Digital Fortress. I was engrossed in the book so the wait didn't feel that long.

We boarded later than the rescheduled time. Once the plane was taking its normal starting up route, I was excited to reach home, especially since it was already the first day of the New Year. But the plane stalled twice while it was gaining momentum on the runway and it jerked really hard. The first time, I wasn't too worried. After I steadied myself, I just continued reading. But the second time was scary because it felt like the plane was close to taking off already, but it suddenly jerked to a halt. My immediate thought was GET US OFF THIS PLANE. I'm a frequent flyer, so I've learned not to overreact to jerks and a little turbulence, but that was freaky.

So we disembarked and went back into the terminal. Fast forward to the end, I ended up reaching home four hours later than scheduled. I was bummed that I missed the entire morning of the first day and that my first meal of the New Year was a pack of overpriced nasi briyani that cannot match up to a complete meal of New Year dishes. But I was very thankful that I got back safely. :)

I enjoyed my chill time at home because there wasn't much work to do. I loved my TV time a lot. And even though I'd gotten accustomed to not having a TV around 24/7 for two years now, I still really love it when I can morph into a couch potato for a whole day. It's very unhealthy to be so sedentary, I know, and I wince every time I see the walking meter on my phone and it reads a small figure like 100 and maybe 0.1 km. But, y'know, it's the holidays. And that's when the lazy bug infects most easily. :P

In the midst of all the merry-making around, I was very sad because our cat died. My little blue-eyed prince of almost 6 years old. It hurts so badly but you know, it's like that with pets. You love them and they love you, that's what makes it worth it. In the end, you experience a heartbreak, but when you think back to all the good memories, you'll realize that's what matters. I won't talk more about this because it saddens me. We have good memories and that's what we keep.

RIP Bobby, we love you always. :)

Now that school has resumed as per normal, we're picking up where we left off. It's back to readings, equations, and speeches. To kick off the week, I had a mid-term in an 8 am class on Monday. Last night, we had a barbecue which was a lot of fun. Right after class, I found myself in Giant, pushing a cart full of ingredients and charcoal. I was worn out when I came back to my room at midnight, but I ended up staying up til 3.30 am, which explains my sorta-dazed state now, even though it is already noon time. :P

I'll be off to lunch soon. Have a good week, everyone. :)

Nineteen

Sometimes, I think, wow, I'm already 19. High school has become more like a compilation of prominent memories instead of a day to day scrapbook of events. At times I catch myself trying hard to remember some moments that I once thought were so precious and won't be forgotten. The first day of school, the first time I tripped on the stairs, the first time I realized that my integrity wasn't to be compensated, the first time we said hi and smiled, the first time I realized that I'd finally adapted to my environment, the first time I realized how selfish and cruel teenagers can be, the first time I learned to let go and let be. So many firsts, yet they've all blurred into one big picture.

And the lasts. The last day of school each year, the last internal exam, the last time we said hi and smiled, the last time wearing my blue and white uniform, the last time donning my black skirt and white shirt, the last time putting on my blue tie, the last SPM paper, the last time we raced to the canteen for duties, the last time I ran around bugging people for their articles, the last time I walked into the comfortingly cool computer lab, the last time I stepped into the classroom as a current student, the last time we gathered together, smiled into the camera and said we'd meet again one day, the last time we sat on the creaky stools, leaned on the wooden tables with chips and dents, and talked about everything and nothing, the last time we rushed to the labs to check on our experiments, the last time we rushed outside the school gates to grab lunch, the last time we stepped out of the school the way we'd been for 5 years.

High school once seemed so big, so constant. It was so important, all-encompassing. That is where our lives were. But once we stepped out of it, we all found our own niches, apart from each other, separated by distance and time. We find that in between phone calls and e-mails, we try our best to relate everything to each other. But in the end, we realize that we can't possibly share every little detail of our lives anymore. Sure, we talk about all the big stuff, where we're going, what we're doing, who we're seeing, what we plan to do in the next few years. The smaller things that we used to know about each other, they remain under the surface, and we know that we can't possibly know everything now.

But we find contentment in our ability to reconnect and laugh over things that used to tickle our funny bones and things that we experience individually in the present. The topics become bigger, more serious, more important, less flighty, less haha let's think about it in two years. We look at each other and go, yeah, we are different now. Look at us, talking about apartments, living expenses, careers, families. Where did those girls who talked about the latest eye candy (who, shockingly, by now, exudes zero appeal), the latest songs, silly poses for the camera, and seemingly endless infatuation go? They pop up every now and again, but they're so much calmer now, more knowing.

In the midst of all the mind boggling things that we hadn't realized we'd face at 19, we sit for a moment in silence, ponder on what is coming, and think, wow, I am only 19. Our conversation comes to a lull as we mull over what had happened, what is happening, and what will happen. So much in the past and present, so much more to come. Dreams spawn plans. Plans spawn actions. Actions spawn results. Our minds' gears click into place and we realize the magnitude of our thoughts that have come so far from glittery lip glosses to long-term goals.

I am only 19.

Present tense

Now, I am happy that things didn't work out the way I wanted them to that time. Because, well, now I know it's your loss and not mine.

What I really wanted might not have been the best for me, but more of what my heart desired in the spur of the moment when I was caught up in all the excitement. Now that the hype has subsided to nothing and feelings have dissipated, I am glad to have put my foot down to not settle.

Good lesson indeed. But I won't thank you still. (Yeah, guess we all change.)

Beyond the line

Sometimes, I detest airports. For their overpriced food, the sometimes overwhelming crowd of people, the kids who refuse to stop crying/running/kicking/screaming/everything imaginable, the inconsiderate travellers, the lugging of the baggage around, and the washrooms with long queues. But most of all, I hate how they make me feel when I'm standing at the gate to the departure halls, waving goodbye.

After the strong winds

When I told her that I'm kinda having fun, I didn't mean it with sarcasm. I thought she misinterpreted my words because of her response. But really, I was being honest because I'm over the bitter phase. Instead of going against the change, I've embraced it, and I think that has helped me more than I initially thought. Why fight when I can follow this path and still be happy?

I used to be a dreamer but I'm not sure if I'm such a huge dreamer now. I think my perspectives have changed a lot and I feel more like a realist now. Is that something bad? Not necessarily, I think. Who says we can't dream and be realistic at the same time?

The previous storm has settled, leaving in its wake a sense of calm and stability.

Cats in the bag

I don't believe in there being not a single secret between any two persons. This doesn't imply that I do not trust people, because I do, but not just in the blink of an eye. We all harbor secrets, things that we don't want anyone - not even the closest of those around us - to know. We keep them to ourselves because we are afraid of the consequences that follow if we reveal them to others. The skeletons lurking in the closet may be small and relatively harmless, or they may be big and scary, so dark that we just chuck them to the darkest recesses of our minds, willing ourselves to ignore, and eventually, maybe forget. But secrets aren't that easy to forget.

Having been a sounding board and confidant to people I didn't expect to come to me, I can say that I've heard things I never thought I would. But what else can you do when a friend calls you up, sobbing her heart out, instead of comforting her and listening to her? What else can you do when someone looks into your eyes and say 'keep this between us' except keep mum? Sometimes, the urge to tell is so great because of circumstances. But, at the same time, is it worth risking the relationship? Maybe, maybe not. Because some secrets... well, maybe they aren't meant to be secrets. I dunno.

Here's a personal pet peeve that I have to get off my chest. To whoever I have not met or talked to for a while (meaning months or years), instead of grilling me for my grades so that you can compare our academic standings, I think I've got better things to do than pull out my grade report for you. Seriously, give me a break. Just because you think I'm a goody two shoes does not mean that I don't read chick lit (and actually enjoy it! Yeah, complete with all the drama and scandals!), wear eyeliner and lipstick (you think I think that make-up degrades women? NO), have a fondness for earrings and necklaces (since when are "bookworms" not allowed to accessorize?), enjoy tv dramas that sometimes make no sense, and just loaf around. Really, I didn't know that being studious always has to mean that one has no life. And yes, my fingernails are bloody red in color, and I like them that way. What? I actually spend my time painting fingernails instead of mugging? If you can see me right now, you can bet I'm doing the eye roll that I've been perfecting over the years.

Sometimes I really, really hate stereotypes.

Shift

If there is one thing that stands out as a contrast between being a kid and a teenager (I'm still entitled to say that for another year), I'd say it's the consciousness of time. When you're a kid, you barely remember time passing by. It just seems like every day blends into each other to form the few years that your memory stores under 'childhood'. And then when you step into school, you begin remembering timelines a bit more clearly. As you progress into the stage of the terrible teens, you start breaking down the years into more significant events that form your memories. And then when you turn into an adult, you stop for a moment one day, and think, who am I now?

Now that I'm on the threshold of adulthood, I think that if there is one thing that I would've told my younger self if I were given the chance to travel back into time, I'd say live more. There is a part of me that I've never quite recognized and acknowledged until recently. When someone asks me what is one of my biggest regrets of the past, I always get stumped, because one, I don't want to come across as being ungrateful/bitter/selfish/delusional, etc, and two, people always say that you can't change things that have already happened, so just derive lessons from them and live with them. But, now, if someone asks me that question again, I have an honest answer.

One thing that I regret about my past is being too introverted. I have vague recollections of my kindgarten friends. I remember them mostly from photographs, but I don't know any of them now that we've all grown up and gone our separate ways. In primary school, I had my clique, as did everyone else. But my social circle was very small, limited to those whom I knew for a long time and was very familiar with. Back then, one of the things I dreaded the most was facing strangers because it gave me a feeling of not belonging. I simply disliked being forced out of my comfort zone. Come secondary school, I did better in expanding my social network, meeting people outside of the classroom and mingling with new people.

But I wish that I could've a bit more like what I am now. I know, most of my friends who are reading this right now are probably going she's saying WHAT?, but I don't blame them because they only knew me when I was already more outgoing and less highly strung. Before this, I didn't think that I was a people person, but the last two years have opened up my mind a lot as to how I view myself. Reflecting back, I realized that I've progressed rather far, from a recluse to where I am now. (Okay, maybe I should say very far, given my penchant for speaking and my loudness that has advanced in its appearance from very rare to very common. Sigh.)

Somewhere along the way, I must've taken a turn and decided that enough is enough. Today, I'm glad for that.

Lejuk

I had a long post for today. But I decided against posting it, in better judgment, I think. I was in a moment of doubt that caught me off guard. I think I'd prefer getting more privacy and understanding now. And letting off the steam in one long post isn't going to help me get those.

I think, these days, it's hard to trust people. Maybe I'm just skeptical and cynical. Maybe you didn't even know that about me. But I know I possess both those traits, and I know that although they are apparent flaws sometimes, there are times when they act as part of my defense mechanism. Why do I even bother justifying them?

For once, I don't have to care. And you know what? It makes me happy.

Mun ko mok bermacam-macam ngan aku, no thanks, sebab aku dah lejuk.

Ruminations

I'm writing this post because today I woke up feeling very thankful for some things. Yeah, try being able to sleep in on a Monday morning; you'd feel the same too! By the way, I did not skip a class. We just don't have anymore Malaysian Studies lectures because we've covered the whole syllabus. We only have to show up on the day of our presentation and another time at the end of the month to know our coursework marks.

Anyway, I've been doing some thinking lately. Now that people are beginning to pack up and leave, the situation feels more real than ever. A year ago, I thought I'd be packing up and leaving this place too. A year ago, I was filled with enthusiasm and a slight sense of apprehension. But still, I was ready to rumble. I had a carefully thought-out plan because I'm just meticulous like that when it comes to organizing the stuff that matter to myself. In my mind, I knew what I wanted.

In the heat of the moment, I somehow lost my footing and lost sight of what I truly wanted. Because at that time, all I could hear was denial - over and over. Keep the faith, my family and friends say. That, I think, was the hardest thing to do at that point. When you hit a low point, there comes a time when doubt starts creeping in and you think, is this all worth it or am I just wasting my time holding out for hope that is futile? It is like trying to piece together a broken piece of expensive glassware. You know you can't do it, yet you keep on doing it because you hope that by some miracle, your efforts will pay off.

Run the race and keep the faith. Now, the first part is one thing that most people can do. Running the race is what we do every day. We constantly try to keep up with everything else that changes around us. We try our best to go with the flow and hope that things turn out well at the finishing line of the race. No matter how many curveballs life throws at us, we try to handle them well because that's just how we operate. But keeping the faith? That requires a lot of patience and trust. It is easy to let a dream die and let your belief go when nothing seems to work. When things go awry, it is easy to step back and say, I surrender. It is. Throughout the course of one month, I had so many worry-filled days when all I could think about was my predicament. Sure, there were times when I was genuinely happy, but they seemed fleeting compared to the times I spent mulling over the way things turned out.

But now that all that is over and done with, I've found that it was worth keeping the faith. Because at the end of the day, that is what truly matters. Of course, it was a painful experience. Truth be told, I still feel disappointed when I think of it. But when I look at the other blessings that I've received after that, I think it may have been worth more than I initially thought.

My favorite verse in the Bible is Jeremiah 29:11, which says 'I alone know the plans I have for you, plans to bring you prosperity and not disaster, plans to bring about the future you hope for'. I have this verse written on a piece of colored paper and stuck onto a cardboard on my bulletin board. When I wrote it down last year, I did not think so much of it. But now I know the meaning a little bit better. Sometimes, when people say that God has better plans in store for you (I got this from more than one person at that time - and that's not in church, if that's what you're thinking - this came in school), it can be hard to accept because your human mind refuses to accept a statement in which you cannot figure out the logic. When you read it, and trust that it is real, it might still not be easy to accept. Because that's just how we work. I found myself struggling to fully believe this because if you know me well enough, you'd know that I am a skeptical person (that's why I don't believe in magic - they're just fooling your eyes - and things like self-hypnosis).

Plans - that's how I see life being mapped out. That is why when my earlier plans were fried, I was very disappointed. What I've learned is that when He says He's bringing us prosperity and disaster, sometimes it means showing us a better way that what we've planned out. Because His ways are higher than ours. Sometimes we think we can plan so well and when it doesn't pan out, we get so angry. It is easier to get angry than to accept the truth. But it isn't worth our time, nor our energy.

So what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. Now that I've got another year here, I've come to realize that maybe it isn't too bad. Staying for another year means I can prepare myself better. I also get to go home a few more times and spend more time with my family. I might be able to learn how to cook and drive, and maybe even work for a while. Most importantly, it gave me a chance to realign my goals and see the bigger picture.

The other day, a friend came to me for advice. She had a question of whether to pursue her dream or let it go. Honestly, I didn't quite know what to say. Having just failed in fulfilling my own short-term dream, I didn't feel like I was in the right position to advise her. But I told her what I thought: that dreams are good to have, but sometimes, we have to be realistic, and that ultimately, it's up to her to weigh the pros and cons and make a decision (though I know everyone hates to hear that). Dreams are meant to push us ahead, but they cannot make us lose sight of what we can get. And keeping the faith matters, even though it may not be easy.

So, yeah, there you have it - my ruminations on what I've experienced and what I got out of it. (I feel like I can write a GPP now... eh, maybe not, I remember the horror!) Now I think I can read my offer letter without tearing up. (I still haven't even touched the original copy because it's at home.) I once felt like I should just throw it out so that I won't have to look at it. But now, I think I'll just keep it. As for everything else that I've been avoiding, I think now's the time to dive into them.

Oh, and to end this very long and wordy (like every other post I write) post, here are some things I'm looking forward to: Carmen's party, going home for the semester break, being able to eat all the good food at home, soon-to-be-aired Grey's Anatomy Season 6 and Ugly Betty Season 4 (AAAAAAAAH!), and and and.. Christmas season!

I hereby declare my post for today done. You may rest your eyes now. (By the way, congratulations for making it this far! Should I LOL? Heh.)

Love... is a many splendid thing

I'm turning 19 in just over two months, but there's a part of me who has always remained your 16-year-old sister who bawled like crazy in the airport when you left in your peachy orange sweater (which I'm sure you have chucked out by now because oh my gosh, you won't be caught in that... ANYWHERE).

Today marks the third year since you left to live your dream. There's no one around to lecture me not to mess with the wrong guys (which I don't), drink on an empty stomach (I don't even drink), or study too much (which I don't think I do, too). I've seen you grow through the weirdest phases like your Alien Workshop phase, your frizzy hair to dead-straight hair phase (which earned you a major blow-up... somehow I still laugh when I think of it), your crazy-over-camp-guy phase (I don't think I'll ever forget his name!), your phase of staying out late past midnight and making me open the door for you, and your many other phases.

If there is one point which I can return to now, I'd probably pick the time when I quizzed you on Sejarah facts (like stuff on siput geweng) while you were showering in the bathroom adjoining to our rooms. Because that was the time when we were both growing into the different phases of our lives. You were in Form 5, struggling to keep up with sabun and those stuff. I was stepping into Form 1, unsure of what laid ahead. But I had you and you had me. And that was when I really discovered the joy of having a sister because before then, we were always bickering over who did the house chores. At that time, I could confide in you about this guy and that guy (and, boy, the stupid things we talked about) and whatever else I couldn't tell anyone else. You can't buy that kind of trust anywhere, anyhow.

Come clubbing mishaps or bad break-ups, you'll always be my sister whom I love so much. :D

PS: You know what, this can be your birthday dedication. What about that, a 2-in-1? :P

PPS: Did you notice that the post title is from a Mouline Rogue song?

Picket fences and perfect pictures

I came across an acquintance's blog. In her latest post, she talked about how hard it is to stay on top academically. People think that reaching the top is hard, but that isn't as challenging as maintaining the position. This came from a girl who has always excelled in academics (I know that much for a fact even though we barely know each other). What she wrote resonated inside of me. Every day, we chase after time. For what? To study, we say. We pore over textbooks, scribble notes, solve maths equations, analyze, discuss, conclude; we study. For what? A certificate stating that one has achieved first class honors in one's major. For what? A good job. For what? A bright future. Alright, that sounds like a well-thought out path. Now, keep on that path.

In primary school, my friends thought I was smart. I never liked the label because sometimes it felt like people knew me not because of who I was but because I always took prizes at the end of the year. Come secondary school, things got more challenging but the label still kind of stuck somehow. (How someone who scored consecutive C's in History can be labelled 'smart' is beyond me.) Another thing I dislike about this label is that it makes people think that you know everything when you obviously don't. And even though you know that there is no such thing as perfect knowledge, it still makes you feel sort of dumb sometimes.

Now that I've been in two colleges, the label has somewhat changed. From a specific label, it has evolved into a generalized stereotype. Because now, I'm seen as a scholarship holder, not just an individual student. I discovered how stereotypical people can be when I held my previous scholarship. Everywhere I went, the first thing that people noticed is that 'she's a scholar'. So what? Here, I still get the same thing. 'Oh, you're under a scholarship? Wow, you must be a genius!' RIGHT. I beg to differ. I don't understand this whole genius-holding-scholarship deal. Like, seriously? Do you think that everyone who obtains a scholarship is born smart? Do you not think that some people actually have to do real work to get good grades? For goodness' sake, get real.

Do you think that keeping top form is an easy task? No. It doesn't get any easier because not only do the challenges get tougher, but the expectations also rise. I think people should just stop the whole 'you guys must be geniuses' notion because it is not true. Geniuses do not need to struggle to comprehend complicated texts. Geniuses only need a few minutes to come up with mathematical proofs. Geniuses are born geniuses. As for us other mortal beings, we rely on our resources. True, some people are born more academically-inclined than others. That is a blessing. But for most people, it takes a lot of sweat and effort to get to where they want to be. Sometimes that fact is overlooked and summed up to 'oh, you're just smart'. It is as if hard work counts for nothing, which is just ironic in itself.

I just wish people won't keep on sterotyping. And that they'd stop thinking that everything comes by so easily, because it doesn't.

On a serious note

I'm sitting here with a slight thumping in my head. It sucks feeling this way on a Saturday afternoon, knowing that there is a long to-do list to tackle. Looking through my older posts, I start to really miss secondary school. Sure, there were stressful times, but those are nothing compared to the things that we face in college. Assignments and tests seem to never stop (and you thought that back in secondary school, the ujian ringkas seemed continuous). Projects and presentations pop up everywhere (and you thought that kerja kursus was a hassle). Your organizer fills up with test and exam dates. And when you schedule outings, two things pop into your mind first: money and time. Oh, and the catch is this: When you work, you start missing your college days. Ah, what a cycle.

Yeah, so now I begin to understand the feeling of growing up. July is approaching, which means that I am now in my last couple of months as an 18-year-old. So what's so special about being 18? Nothing. When I was 12, I couldn't envision myself being 17. When I was 15, I thought being 18 is special. When I was 17, I thought being 19 is scary because it means that I'm stepping into the third decade of my life. Now that I'm 18 and approaching 19, I don't know what to think anymore. Every day flies by so fast now that things seem to blur into one.

Did I envision this to be how I'd feel at 18? I don't think so. Is it because I changed? I think so. I think this has something to do with a conflict of interests and values.

6 more weeks to this semester and then I'll be back in my own room, cocooned under my warm comforter and surrounded by the mess that I make with all the story books. Sigh. I can't believe how sad I feel when I read Kenny Sia's blog post about the trees along the road to the airport being cut down. My hometown is evolving so fast that every time I go back, there's always something new. And I go back every three to four months, so that equals to a lot of changes. In fact, I haven't even gotten accustomed to tHe Spring. I still don't know exactly where which store is.

Sigh.

I guess sometimes we all miss our roots.

Sunshine after the rain

A friend told me that I won't know what the silver lining is until I see, feel, and experience it. Well, maybe the silver lining is more than just one thing or person. Maybe it's picking random dresses off the racks, handing over the hangers to salesgirls while giggling, and going into and out of fitting rooms to try on quirky outfits with my girlfriends.

Maybe it's trading news over a good old Malaysian meal, complete with fatty, semi-charred satay and char kueh tiaw.

Maybe it's just going out to lunches and dinners with my friends, knowing that we'd always stop at the junction and go, "To the yellow shop or the middle shop?".

Whatever it is, I've moved on. Thanks for bearing with me and for all the encouragement, everyone.

:)

Equilibrium

Dear blue flippers,

Where do I even begin? It was like a rollercoaster ride. A crazy, puke-inducing ride, because you're just whacky like that. It was scary, yet so thrilling. We had good times.

But the chemistry went out of whack and we both lost it. I never meant for things to get so personal, but they did.

Hanging on to something that's almost gone is tiring. I don't see the point in it anymore. Allowing all the resentment to trudge behind what's left isn't fun. I just need a way to loosen my grip on this load and finally let go. I think I've found it.

For what it's worth, I'm sorry. It is during fleeting moments like this when I wish I can turn back time and make things right again.

Love.

Words

I've always loved words. Do you know how beautiful they can be when strung together? Do you know how melodious they sound when they are arranged in just the right way? But, as I grow up, I learn how painful words can be as well.

With time, I find myself facing bigger obstacles that require more thought and effort, which often includes careful treading, especially where words are concerned. Not too long ago, I discovered how words can leave an impact bigger than we can imagine. Because when those few words were spoken to me, a sense of disbelief bubbled inside of me. That feeling grew into annoyance, which developed into anger, and then, finally, into a stubborn sense of resolution. Was the path right? I don't know, but that was what happened. What was I supposed to make out of the words that were said? I was already hurting then and those words didn't help ease the growing frustration. In fact, coming from someone whom I respect, they stung.

Sometimes, we find ourselves at a loss for words. There are times when we just don't know what to say. Maybe it's because we don't know what is appropriate. Maybe it's because we don't know if our opinions are acceptable. Whatever the reason, sometimes we just get tongue-tied. Whenever I feel tongue-tied, many words fly into my head, but nothing comes out. I hate being unable to articulate my thoughts appropriately, but it happens every once in a while.

There are just some times when words aren't needed. Like when we are sitting across each other in silence, feeling at ease with each other. Sometimes I feel like I need more of these moments because I've been listening and talking so much. Sometimes I miss the comfortable silence. Or maybe I just miss home.

(And looking at photos of kolo mee on Facebook isn't helping either. I shall resist looking at the kueh chap photo in my phone. Pas pas...)

Closure

Have you ever seen me being emotionally overwhelmed? If you haven't, meet the irrational me.

Today, a part of me died. Today, after struggling for a whole month, I have gotten a resolution. It was never the one I'd worked towards, never the one I'd wished for. Today, I don't care what people say. You can tell me that something good will come out of this and all you'll get is a blank stare. Because you know what? I know something good will come out.. or do I? Because right now, how can I make you understand how I feel? This is what I've been praying for, day and night. I never allowed my dream to slip out of my grips because I know, the moment I cave in, it's done.

You'll probably tell me that it isn't too bad. It isn't too bad? Yeah, I know that. But do you know how MUCH it hurts when you want to change things so badly but know that you can't because you are powerless? It isn't too bad? How would you like getting disappointed over and over by different people? Tell me, how do you smile after a gruelling fight that ends with you on the losing side? How do you walk with your head held high when inside, all you want to do is cry - and yet you know that you can't just because all you're gonna get is freaked out friends who do not know what to do, worried parents who want to give you the world but know they can't, and authority figures who can only look at you and wonder what else they can do, even though they know the chances are slim?

What I'm saying is what I really think. If you know me well enough, you'd know that disappointment doesn't sit well with me. In Form 1, it was my ultimate dream to attend MGS Singapore. That year, I blew my chance. As a 13-year-old, it was a hard blow to deal with. The next year, I vowed to do my very best and took another shot. Only a few girls were shortlisted for interviews. My name was on the list when we went back to the hotel to check back the next morning. Do you know how I felt walking out of the interview room? I came so close to it... but I met a dead end again. To fall that second time was more than heartbreaking, but I wasn't done. I wanted to try again the next year, but my appendix decided to come into the picture and ruin my dreams. That was exactly 4 years and 1 day ago.

You want to tell me that it'll be okay? I believe you. Because I know, in time, this wound, like all the others, will heal. But for now, I just want you to know that I know it's hard to deal with someone who is hurting, but I would appreciate it if I could have some space. I've been holding out for hope and gotten nothing in return. RM105.70 (and RM50+ more) and a month later, a part of me died. It's that part of me that has been keeping me going, looking ahead.

Today, I fought my last battle. For four hours in class, my mind wasn't completely there. I couldn't care less about what I had for lunch. I blew RM20 on taxi fare to get to the bank and come back. For the first time in my life, I went to the bank alone. I didn't even know which button to press to get my queue number. I didn't even know which slip to take or what to fill in. I didn't even know that I couldn't transfer money out of my account, but that I had to do a cash withdrawal first. It occured to me then that we seem to know so much about what we study in school, but when it boils down to the basics that we need in real life, what do we know?

After that, I took a 10-minute walk under the scorching sun. I got some stares along the way. Those people must have been wondering what a college girl was doing walking around the roads, clutching a thick blue file, at 1 pm. But I couldn't care less because I had only one thing in mind. Who cared about the fact that I was sweating like a pig under the sun? Who cared that my feet were hurting like crazy from my sandals? I'd take all the sweat and blisters if it means that things would turn around.

So I fought my last battle and lost. Through the hurt, the only thing I know I want to do is go home and pretend none of this happened. But this is the real world and Kuching isn't as accessible as KL is. I still have to walk among friends who wonder what happened and who pose the same question I've had in mind for so long. I still have to attend classes, take tests, and prepare for the final exams. I am still going to be here until next year. As far as I know, nothing can change all that now.

Michigan, thank you for saying congratulations and welcome to the family. Even though I guess I won't be a Wolverine just yet, as much as I'd like to, this doesn't spell an end. If anything, this is a fresh start.

I sought resolution and I've found it. Now, it's time for closure.

Like my voice isn't mine

"This is the first time I see it."

Reading through the letter was surreal. It is worded so nicely. It's supposed to make me feel like a million bucks. Instead, I sat on the brown bench and wondered where things took such a wrong turn. I looked around me and couldn't figure out how I should feel. Holding that sheet in my hands was like holding an expensive crystal vase that was threatening to fall onto the ground and shatter into pieces. My heart was heavy, my mind was exhausted.

I didn't blink. I didn't sigh. I collected my things and got up to walk. Whenever I feel that tidal wave, I walk. It's as if I'm trying to walk and put as much distance between myself and the source of my hurt. When I walk, I don't stop unless I really have to. When my muscles strain, I walk more. Despite the pain and sweat, I just walk.

She quietly said, "I'm sorry." I think she understands.

I know. I'm sorry too.

Tired

Know how I feel? Like I’ve been backing up, gearing for more action, only to find myself being slammed against a concrete wall – again. It feels as though every step I take forward brings me two steps backward. I am beyond frustrated; what is this feeling?

When people ask me how things are getting by, what am I supposed to say? That they are fine when in actual fact I dread the walk to that same place where I’ve felt my heart break more than once? That they are going well despite the fact that I don’t even want to see travel luggage because it makes me keep on wondering what my life would be like in the near future? That they are fine although I'm struggling to keep my faith that this will all work out in the end? That they are going okay because, look, I am still smiling?

Well, here’s the truth. Things are not fine. Not right now as I type. I’m not going to pretend that everything’s fine and dandy because, really, there’s enough tailing the lines. Everything I’ve tried have only gotten me no’s. Is that all they can tell me? You know how it feels like to have some hope – or at least a semblance of it – only to have it taken away from you in a snap? It makes your heart ache. It rips apart your vision, tears down your resolutions. But, still, you have to find it inside yourself to keep on striving.

You want to know how I feel? I'm tired. Being in college has stretched me to limits I have never imagined. It has aged me in ways I did not see coming. Sometimes my mind reels when I think of the enormity of the situation I am caught in and of the fact that there are bigger things out there. Sometimes I wish I can just cocoon myself in my blanket and open my eyes to the morning sunlight at whatever time I please. Sometimes I wish that if I wish hard enough, this mess will magically work itself out.

All this disappointment is wearing me out.

Potential energy

Being caught in a limbo is like being a Newton's cradle. There's so much energy, all pent up, waiting to be expended somehow; yet there is so little room to explore. Each hit from the first ball is followed by the upward swing of the last ball, vice versa. The motion is repetitive, the concept is unchanged. Moving like that is stifling.

Just today, I realize what I've been doing. There are so many things I have not said and don't want to say. There are plans I don't want to make. There are issues I don't want to discuss. Becuase I feel that it isn't the right time to do so. But when is the right time? For this whole month, I've been stuck in a limbo - stuck in a place I never wanted to be in. I am in a position where I don't feel I am progressing as I should be.

Every time I feel like there is a glimmer of hope, I try so hard to keep it in sight. But so far, I feel like I've been hanging on to just my own will. When external factors come into play, it seems as though inner will doesn't stand a chance. But, still, press on, they say. That's what I've been doing. Inside, I've been struggling to comprehend this sequence of events. One day I was ecstatic, the next I felt as though it all doesn't matter anymore.

Rejection and dejection aren't new to me. No, we've been acquainted. When she gave me that searching look when we talked, I was reminded of a time when I could not accept failure - when nothing but perfect cut it for me. I wanted everything to be cookie-cutter perfect just because. Look what that got me. A whole lot of heartbreak and grief. Was it worth all the time and pain? In retrospect, maybe it was that turn of events that opened my eyes to what really mattered. But looking at her that night made me feel like I was looking at the old me - the girl who wanted every single detail in her plan to pan out precisely as planned. It is eerie how much of the old me I saw in her that night.

Over time, the anticipation and energy keep building up - to what, I don't know. Delaying the answer this way is painful. I know, I got myself where I am, but going through this ache for a whole month is sapping the energy out of me. Not knowing what lies ahead is gut-wrenching sometimes.

There are times I look forward to, plans I wish I can make and talk about. There is so much I wish I can say right now. I don't want to be stuck with the what-ifs and whys like this. I need a definite answer. There is so much on the line that I want.