17. I'm turning 17 in a few days. I'm graduating too in a few days.
On the verge of adulthood.
An era of my life is ending.
But no, everything's cool. My refusal to acknowledge this very fact has weirdly been rewarding for the past months. I guess things have not demanded me to acknowledge this yet. And that's great.
I thought I could wean off myself from this thought altogether because god knows I do not need the extra pressure. However, subconsciously it's happening. I could not stop it. I started to think like an adult. I started to act like one. It's so disheartening.
Let me enlighten you with the tale of the grown up me.
I went to Popular Bookstore just a while ago. Regular trip, no? Much to my dismay, as much as it was regular, it also gave me the indication of just how mature my conscience have become. For those who know me, they would also know that my favourite colour is blue. My laptop is blue, my pencil case is blue, my correction tape is blue, my scissors is blue, my stapler, my bag, my life is blue. It's quite obvious how much I like the colour blue. And so, when I found myself in need for a new puncher, of course I would try to find one in blue.
Of course, to my chagrin, the blue colour puncher was RM10+. While the regular one was for half the price. Now, if this was me, 3 months ago, I would have opted for that blue puncher. But this me, this new, reformed me, without any second thought (although slightly saddened) grabbed the regular puncher instead.
*GASP*
Yeah. Only after that I went did I have that epiphany. Over a puncher. Because ultimately, it was cheaper and although the blue one would make me happy, I do not think it was worth the extra RM5.
If I could just run and hide in my room and stop time just for a second, I would.
But I can't. I don't think this fear is irrational at all. I think it's very reasonable to not want to be a grown up.
I hate responsibilities. I hate complications.
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Thursday, September 27, 2012
Saturday, September 22, 2012
She'll break her own heart
Bad decisions.
There are such things as bad decisions.
And then there are times when you would have to be forced off your indifference and actually deal with things.
When things like this happen, more often that not, you would look up and wish for a helping hand ready to throw a rescue buoy your way. You'd wish someone would tell you that it's not that bad, it's not your fault, there are ways to rectify this problem, etc etc.
I'm not short of people trying to throw rescue buoys to me. However, they always throw the wrong kind of buoy. I appreciate the gesture but at the end of the day, I'm still drowning.
Drowning and alone and crying while choking on that salty water of the ocean.
And there are only so little time the fact that I'm drowning is visible to people because I'm flailing on the surface. There would come time when I would have to stop flailing because the water caused my cells to not receive sufficient oxygen, and ultimately I would drown to death. No longer visible. Just, sink beneath the water never to be seen again.
I desperately want to believe that it's not that bad, but it is.
I don't want to be told that I'm feeling too much either because it makes no difference.
Everywhere I look, I see a gaping void that is my future. I see the nothingness that surrounds it. I see just how ultimately screwed I am as of now and I see no solution.
I see no solution whatsoever. And I don't want to listen to anymore people because they always end up saying the wrong things that will make me feel worse about myself. I get that it's a necessary thing to do, to hurt me with words so that I would understand what a huge mess I made of myself, but it's not a nice thing to feel.
I would like to choke on my tears alone and throw a pity party for myself and never see anyone ever again because I am a failure in every which way. And that's not a call for help, nor a cry for attention. It's the cold hard truth that I can't resist no matter how hard I try.
Crying alone at night used to be beneath me. I guess I've reached my rock bottom then.
Even I'm disgusted with myself.
Heh.
There are such things as bad decisions.
And then there are times when you would have to be forced off your indifference and actually deal with things.
When things like this happen, more often that not, you would look up and wish for a helping hand ready to throw a rescue buoy your way. You'd wish someone would tell you that it's not that bad, it's not your fault, there are ways to rectify this problem, etc etc.
I'm not short of people trying to throw rescue buoys to me. However, they always throw the wrong kind of buoy. I appreciate the gesture but at the end of the day, I'm still drowning.
Drowning and alone and crying while choking on that salty water of the ocean.
And there are only so little time the fact that I'm drowning is visible to people because I'm flailing on the surface. There would come time when I would have to stop flailing because the water caused my cells to not receive sufficient oxygen, and ultimately I would drown to death. No longer visible. Just, sink beneath the water never to be seen again.
I desperately want to believe that it's not that bad, but it is.
I don't want to be told that I'm feeling too much either because it makes no difference.
Everywhere I look, I see a gaping void that is my future. I see the nothingness that surrounds it. I see just how ultimately screwed I am as of now and I see no solution.
I see no solution whatsoever. And I don't want to listen to anymore people because they always end up saying the wrong things that will make me feel worse about myself. I get that it's a necessary thing to do, to hurt me with words so that I would understand what a huge mess I made of myself, but it's not a nice thing to feel.
I would like to choke on my tears alone and throw a pity party for myself and never see anyone ever again because I am a failure in every which way. And that's not a call for help, nor a cry for attention. It's the cold hard truth that I can't resist no matter how hard I try.
Crying alone at night used to be beneath me. I guess I've reached my rock bottom then.
Even I'm disgusted with myself.
Heh.
Friday, September 7, 2012
Satu Bahtera
It's rare to find things that I truly care about.
There are about 20 people (or cats) in this world of whom I would miss their presence if they are gone. The rest, I probably could live without.
And for me to care about an inanimate object or an ideology is well for the most part, quite startling; even to me.
I care about my religion, that is true. But who would have thought that the ever indifferent, refused-to-care-about-anything-to-be-cool would care about her country?
Certainly not me.
But I do care about my country. More than that really, I love Malaysia.
It's not even the kind of love you feel because you're obliged to feel it. It's real love. The kind of love that forces me to withhold my tears when I witness the 'pengisytiharan merdeka' video they played during sambutan ambang merdeka at school. The kind of love that makes me stand tall every school assembly without any sighs and complains to sing our 'Negaraku'. The kind of love that makes me swear to protect my country from harm. The kind of love that gives me the will to defend it at any cost, even my life.
It's quite severe, if I may say so myself.
But this is my home.
I'm 17. I've never been through the hardships of my nation being oppressed by a foreign power. I've never had to live in fear of being gunned down and forced to hand over my wealth to that said foreign power. I was never deprived of opportunities to make a better life for myself in my own land.
Despite not knowing what it's like to be.. oppressed in such a manner, the thought of this beloved country ever having to go through that is unthinkable.
So I'm grateful for my forefathers who've brought independence to this land. I'm grateful for I do not have to go through those hardships. I'm grateful that in Malaysia, I could find everything I need. I'm grateful that I'm happy here.
Malaysia is 55 years old this year.
Happy Birthday my love ~
I'm aware that this post is a week late. But.. I had trials. :3
And anyway Malaysia Day is on the 16th so I'm not that late.
Back to my books now~
There are about 20 people (or cats) in this world of whom I would miss their presence if they are gone. The rest, I probably could live without.
And for me to care about an inanimate object or an ideology is well for the most part, quite startling; even to me.
I care about my religion, that is true. But who would have thought that the ever indifferent, refused-to-care-about-anything-to-be-cool would care about her country?
Certainly not me.
But I do care about my country. More than that really, I love Malaysia.
It's not even the kind of love you feel because you're obliged to feel it. It's real love. The kind of love that forces me to withhold my tears when I witness the 'pengisytiharan merdeka' video they played during sambutan ambang merdeka at school. The kind of love that makes me stand tall every school assembly without any sighs and complains to sing our 'Negaraku'. The kind of love that makes me swear to protect my country from harm. The kind of love that gives me the will to defend it at any cost, even my life.
It's quite severe, if I may say so myself.
But this is my home.
I'm 17. I've never been through the hardships of my nation being oppressed by a foreign power. I've never had to live in fear of being gunned down and forced to hand over my wealth to that said foreign power. I was never deprived of opportunities to make a better life for myself in my own land.
Despite not knowing what it's like to be.. oppressed in such a manner, the thought of this beloved country ever having to go through that is unthinkable.
So I'm grateful for my forefathers who've brought independence to this land. I'm grateful for I do not have to go through those hardships. I'm grateful that in Malaysia, I could find everything I need. I'm grateful that I'm happy here.
Malaysia is 55 years old this year.
Happy Birthday my love ~
I'm aware that this post is a week late. But.. I had trials. :3
And anyway Malaysia Day is on the 16th so I'm not that late.
Back to my books now~
Saturday, September 1, 2012
Stars
It's been almost a month since I tried to convey my inhibitions into words.
That's not a relatively long time but it's a huge milestone from where I was just a few months ago. I was completely.. dependent on this blog. Not that it's a bad thing.
So anyway, a good friend of mine once asked my opinion about something. As usual, I retorted with 'uhm. That's a quite a petty issue. I don't have any opinion on it nor do I desire to form any opinion about it'. Much to my chagrin (or joy)(mostly, joy), he told me 'yeah, you're always so indifferent'.
And is that, the impression that people get from me? That I am indifferent?
I think I am for the most part. My inability to care about things that do not have anything to do with me is quite admirable, if I may say so myself.
However, in the eyes of other people, people whom are close to me and whose opinions I value (that's too generous but I lack better word), I am not doing for so well for myself.
They're somehow convinced that at the rate I'm going, I'd fail to develop into a well rounded sane matured person who would be able to survive in the real world.
And somewhere at the back of my mind, I agree with them.
Living is not about shutting out the bad part of your life just to remain carefree. Those things will come after you and you'd be too defenseless in the face of all that negativity when it decides to strike. Ultimately the things you choose to ignore would have piled so high, as high as a mountain. A mutated mountain with limbs and can crush you and beat you senseless.
I have that realisation. But indifference is so.. cool.
You know.
Like. when everyone just to worry and you're indifferent, you'll feel above everyone else. That's how I feel most of the time. I feel tall in indifference.
It's wrong. My conscience knows it. But I can't help myself.
I guess there's no point to this post. I'm just.. venting.
So anyway, SPM trials has arrived. And I'm.. crumpling under the pressure of it. But. I don't show it to people. Because I choose to remain indifferent. Even if I'm not.
Lol ok bye.
That's not a relatively long time but it's a huge milestone from where I was just a few months ago. I was completely.. dependent on this blog. Not that it's a bad thing.
So anyway, a good friend of mine once asked my opinion about something. As usual, I retorted with 'uhm. That's a quite a petty issue. I don't have any opinion on it nor do I desire to form any opinion about it'. Much to my chagrin (or joy)(mostly, joy), he told me 'yeah, you're always so indifferent'.
And is that, the impression that people get from me? That I am indifferent?
I think I am for the most part. My inability to care about things that do not have anything to do with me is quite admirable, if I may say so myself.
However, in the eyes of other people, people whom are close to me and whose opinions I value (that's too generous but I lack better word), I am not doing for so well for myself.
They're somehow convinced that at the rate I'm going, I'd fail to develop into a well rounded sane matured person who would be able to survive in the real world.
And somewhere at the back of my mind, I agree with them.
Living is not about shutting out the bad part of your life just to remain carefree. Those things will come after you and you'd be too defenseless in the face of all that negativity when it decides to strike. Ultimately the things you choose to ignore would have piled so high, as high as a mountain. A mutated mountain with limbs and can crush you and beat you senseless.
I have that realisation. But indifference is so.. cool.
You know.
Like. when everyone just to worry and you're indifferent, you'll feel above everyone else. That's how I feel most of the time. I feel tall in indifference.
It's wrong. My conscience knows it. But I can't help myself.
I guess there's no point to this post. I'm just.. venting.
So anyway, SPM trials has arrived. And I'm.. crumpling under the pressure of it. But. I don't show it to people. Because I choose to remain indifferent. Even if I'm not.
Lol ok bye.
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