Don't stop.

Wednesday, June 18, 2014

"I listened to his heart beat when he slept and I loved him for every fingernail, eyelash and scar. He is so talented I can feel it when I touch him and intelligent without needing to prove it by talking just to hear the sound of his own voice, he is quick and funny and brave enough to love a girl who is a 1,000 piece jigsaw puzzle that only comes with 999 pieces. Sometimes I think he could be the 1000th." 

The person who wrote this, beautiful, heart throbbing-ly painful paragraph, is still so young, from reading her story. Every love we feel at every part of our lives are the most real, most true to us, at that point in time and their love sounds so beautiful, so real, from her point of view. I honestly wish her story ends well, I'm not being a killjoy here, but it generally doesn't. At least not at that age. Maybe she'll have that special story. Who am I to say? I'm only at the beginning of my journey, too.

I'd die happy (when I actually do die) if someone ever wrote something like that about me. Its so temporary, still so beautiful, and I would always read it just to remember the person that I was at that point of time.


Raw and unfiltered.

Tuesday, June 17, 2014

"You’ll only ever be on each other’s peripherals,
but never in plain sight."


"When you’ve been seeing yourself as an inferior, unlovable person for long enough, or someone has been telling you that for long enough, you can start to believe it on such a subconscious, engrained level, that if someone treats you like you’re better than that, you think there’s something wrong with them."

I respect writers like that, its quite amazing what our minds are capable of. When I read these things, I think about what they had to go through to write something like that, to realize something so painfully true, for them at least. And to actually deal with that realization. I mean... What am I supposed to do now, with that knowledge? That kind of thought. 

"XXX isn’t made in a single ideal moment… it is a collection of good and great moments that add up over time.” -Art Markman

I wrote XXX because I think you can fill in many different words there to make that sentence meaningful.  A collection of good moments over time. Stop letting one moment change your entire cause. 


So, the semester has ended. I'm officially forced to take another step forward, in terms of education. Now I finally find myself in the place I've been dreading and making the decision I have been procrastinating.  
To choose a major.

Finals ended just 3 days ago and the break has started. I only have 2 goals this break, and surprisingly or not, sleep is not on that list. I'm feeling proud that I still manage to surprise myself sometimes, step one to falling a little in love with myself. Heh.

1. EAT.

Of course, it'd be nice if those two can be accomplished together. Of course, I'd like to travel too. But I always get disappointed a little in that category, so to cut myself a little heartache, I won't put it on the list.

Oddly, the first thing I did to start the break off, was a very rushed, impromptu, also uneventful, trip back to Ipoh. At least I got one thing cut off my to-do list? 

I got a haircut! Got rid of all those terrible dead ends and fluff and... it was so pretty that day. But today, its back to how it used to be. :/

Also, celebrated Father's Day on Sunday.

For a man who has lived this long (half a decade plus), done all kinds of things, I feel until today he still stands on what he believes in, and despite how people, myself included, will never understand or agree or accept the way he's lived his life, I think that's something I look up to. Maybe its because I feel I may never be able to do that. Mistakes are made, hearts are broken, many lives are changed. At the end of the day, we're here now. And now, is what should matter. Every Father's day, I wish him, thinking back a little about the father that he was, and I would say, he was lacking in many ways. I'm not the best daughter, but we fought long and hard and now we're all grown up. I'm the youngest, and I turned 21 this year. If today, this is the best he can be for us, he cooks for us, helps us in all the small small ways, the best we can do, is just to be daughters and call him 'Dad' and appreciate now. The past, let is stay where it belongs, in the past. Happy Father's Day, daddy.

Be strong.

Thursday, June 5, 2014

"Funny you're the one broken but I was the one that needed saving." - Stay, Rihanna 

I've been living by that for awhile now, for as long as I remembered actually. There's no one's pain more painful than the other person's. So, don't forget to sometimes, just sometimes, see their pain too. Its so easy to forget, I know that. So easy. But, I think all we really need are honest words and open hearts and good communication. Even that is hard to do. Lessons to be learnt.

I think everyone deserves someone who loves to love them. Altruism doesn't exist, I had a big debate on that topic in foundation. Hah. I was on the opposing team and I was fighting for something I don't believe in. That only says two things, either I'm a really bad debater (which I am) or that the statement is true beyond any argument. I've done all the research necessary, looked for all the arguments that there are out there. But no matter what I read, I didn't believe it and I couldn't make myself believe it either. 

"Altruism involves the unselfish concern for other people. It involves doing things simply out of a desire to help, not because you feel obligated to out of duty, loyalty, or religious reasons."  

 There are great people out there, many many for that matter. But nobody does something and expects nothing in return. Even if you didn't expect anything in return, what you get from it is intrinsic. Its like you do it because even if you're doing something for someone else's benefit, at your expense, you still get something in return. You feel better about yourself, you feel proud, satisfied at your own good work, you receive gratitude, kindness in return, the birth of a new friendship. Something. Somethings comes back to you, whether it was from that someone else or not. Does it mean that if you don't expect anything back but it comes to you anyway, that it is altruism? Nah. I think I'm writing way beyond my league right now. 끝.

Lets go back to what my main point is. My main point is actually, that people think love is altruistic. It isn't. If I was to be curt here, the only reason it isn't is just because altruism doesn't exist. I do believe, however, that everyone deserves someone who loves to love them, not just someone who loves them. You gotta love loving that person, it shouldn't feel like a burden, it shouldn't feel like a responsibility. You don't have to force yourself to love someone else. You either do, or you don't. What is it when they do it just because they have to, not because they love doing it? Love is not a job. Maybe a relationship feels like a job, maybe marriage feels like a job. Loving someone is not a job. It comes from the heart. So cliche, hah. Ironic. But love is also not black and white. There is no clear cut answers. What we can only do, is keep asking.

"Love is patient, love is kind.
It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.

It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking,
it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.

Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.

It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

1 Corinthians 13:4-7

Always hopes,
always perseveres.

Take me back to the beginning.

Tuesday, June 3, 2014

Back to when it was all filled with crinkly eyed smiles and good laughs and deep conversations. 

"Tell me you love me, come back and haunt me."
-The Scientist, Coldplay

So, it may or may not be obvious that I'm here procrastinating again because I just did the first paper for my finals and it was pretty shitty. And, yes. That. Ugh, I'm falling behind every semester, just barely pulling through. I wonder if this will last. And the next paper is in a few days, and I'm freaking out so bad and its the same cycle again. Freaking out so bad that I'm not doing anything about it. Ugh. Why am I like that? 

On one of my lazy days (laced with silent screams in my head about my finals), I watched P.S I love you again. I don't know why I torture myself with things like that. Guilty pleasures, that's what they call it. And despite all the love messages and all the true love stuff they were trying to send out, one sentence really stood out to me.

"Losing your mind is not for the middle class."

This is true. Too true. Really true. So while I've also spent many days of my 21 years of life breaking down and falling apart and eventually crawling back up again, this statement still remains true. If you were grieving, if you were heartbroken, if you lost the things you love, if you lost yourself, for any of the reasons, losing your mind is not for the middle class. If you were one of those people who were successful (materially speaking) and you have a large figure in your bank account, maybe you can afford to spend days or weeks sitting around, crying your eyes out, eat expensive ice cream from a tub, don't work, don't study, don't cook, don't clean, don't shower, don't sleep (or sleep too much), perhaps you could do just that. 

Maybe you could afford an expensive psychiatrist and pay for someone to just hear you out, who'll try to tell you what's wrong with you and where you should start when it comes to healing yourself. Maybe you can afford to spend bucket loads of money on booze and get pissed drunk, dance and sing and be entertained by some true friends and some shady ones and then spend the entire day after that nursing yourself back to sobriety, and still feel more alone than ever. And repeat until you finally feel like yourself again. 

But for the rest of us, we can't afford to. When you think you're too broken, too sad, too angry, and everything is too much, what's there left to do? Still gotta go to class, still gotta sit for the exams, still gotta finish the work, still gotta wake up everyday and go through the motions of life. The lesson here, is that if you want to be sad, get out of the middle class first.

May's been a tough month, all the stress, piled up assignments, preparing for finals, balancing life, work and play. And the feels. Oh god, the feels. Overwhelming, close to losing it. The things that goes on in my own head beats everything that I have to do out there. Before this, I said 'how to make the heart stop?', now I'd say 'how to make the mind stop?'. Insomnia, stupid nightmares, palpitating heartbeats, shaking legs, shaking hands, blurred eyesight, either eating too much or not eating at all. Hmmm. Getting through all that, then there comes sleepless nights with the finals just started. 

May is over now. We're halfway through. I've made countless mistakes, even I'm beginning to lose count. I'm failing myself over and over. I don't know what's wrong with me. There's no more words to say.  Everyday, the only mantra that runs in my head is "keep loving, keep loving, its the only thing left to do".

Love defies all reasons, love has no eyes.
But love is not blind. Love sees but doesn't mind.

 Remember that.

"And when all of the bridges you build
Are washed away in a stream,
Whatever comes,
It's not the end,
We've gotta fight."

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