Intro

I hate writing introductions. You might assume that someone like me, who's been rather acquainted with the art of writing or at least the interest of it would find it a ravishing prospect to be able to begin an essay or any piece of written work without hassle at all. Well, allow me to refute this statement, for I absolutely detest having to pioneer an interesting opening to a written piece.

Whenever it comes down to an essay or even the basic review articles I write for work, I'd always begin by jotting down and elaborating my points. Once that's done, I'd somewhat have the ability to draw up a marvellous conclusion, before painstakingly adjourning back to the introduction of my work upon realization that it is yet to be completed. At this point, it is as if a dam spontaneously decides to build itself upon my stream of thoughts, and inevitably the passage of these thoughts are halted from flowing into paper (or in this case, the screen). As a result, I'd always have a somewhat mediocre (if not horrible) opening passage to every piece of written work and there's been some serious repercussions I've had to face as a result of this disability.

For one, it partly cost me my grades this semester. Due to my incompetent introduction crafting skills, I received a 1 out of 5 for the introduction criteria of an essay I wrote for my interpersonal communication class. A one out of five, dear friends. I'd say "Never in my life have I ever been humiliated as such", but we all know that is one heck of a narcissistic comment and so, I shall refrain. Nevertheless, it was disappointing to see that good use of language could not compensate for a lack of creativity in writing an introduction. I suppose I have only myself to blame for my own incompetence for I see no substantial circumstances that may have dictated my inability to produce an avant garde (if not just interesting) introduction, but frankly it was quite a blow to my self-esteem (see what I did there, heh).

While I haven't quite found the solution to this perplexing matter, I do say it has inspired within me a new revelation of my own personality. Like my inability to produce a sensational, let alone interesting introduction, I am myself incapable of arousing the interest of others through my initial self introductions. I often stumble upon my very first words to a stranger, and I find it even more difficult to find the words when encountering an acquaintance on an impromptu basis. I've somewhat progressed from the awkward smile to the simple "Hello" or "How are you, bro?" stance, but I do feel it is rather insufficient in building relationships with people. Instead, I find my own insecurities quickly get in the way of my making of meaningful acquaintances and friendships. I admit this is a weakness of mine and we have been allowed as humans to have flaws, this is one I'd like to be rid of entirely. I simply cannot see myself as a psychologist if I am unable to discard my inhibitions, for how can one preach if one does not practice?

On another note, numerous people have told me that I do make quite a first impression with the absence of a smile and a stern, grounded facial expression. I am then automatically assumed to be reserved and intimidating, unwilling to be in the company of others. Yet, this is very much untrue for I do enjoy getting to know people and making friends, as frightened and insecure as I am. As a matter of fact, it is I who is easily intimidated by others, especially those who I deem more esteemed and physically attractive than myself. I guess this is another case of a self-fulfilling prophecy, which I do not care to define as you may easily look it up on Google. But I do believe you get my point.

Nevertheless, I'm seeking to change this in accordance with the new year. I've lived far too long in fear, shame and inhibition, and it's time to break free. I must strive to better myself spiritually and adopt an optimistic view of life in my mental realm. If I am to take on the States in the following year, I'd better be up to this challenge which I know I will find very taxing initially, but rewarding eventually. I've had a lot of half-hearted encounters and incomplete endeavors, and so this cycle must be broken if I am to move forward.

4 more days to the New Year. I couldn't be more excited.

Tribute

"The business of life is the acquisition of memories. And in the end, that's all there is."

— Carson, Downton Abbey

I do apologize for not coming up with a proper post since finals ended. Earnestly, I've been telling myself to go ahead and let the words spill out of my mind, but I've been so caught up in a frenzy of emotions that I cannot bring myself to write as fervently as I'd like to.

Anyhow, these pictures I've posted up weren't solely for the purpose of strolling down memory lane — they are a tribute to the late Uncle Poe, who passed away peacefully two days ago. I've never had a penchant for relatives as they were to me more of a nuisance, and I guess you could say it was difficult to get across the ideals of collectivism and filial piety through that thick, individualistic skull (mindset) of mine, but learning of his death was no easy feat. Uncle Poe was one of the closest I've known as part of my vast, intricate web of extended family members. He was a kind and loving man, and was quick to be generous to each and every one of us, his niece and nephews. He was there every Chinese New Year, and he'd always have something interesting for us to do in the midst of the mutilating boredom. He provided the very bundle of joy, my cousin Christine 8 years ago, and while I don't always like spending time playing childish games, she is somewhat still a darling to me. I may not know what lies in the recesses of Uncle Poe's heart, but what I know upon surface value was good and it will remain as such.

You were a good man, Uncle. I won't talk about what comes after life, for the fear that I may disintegrate the good memories made, but I pray you rest in peace. You will be missed.

Venti

I know I said I'd be on hiatus until finals is over, but I don't think I can stuff anymore Biology facts into my mind (because clearly my brain is not a giant, delicious roasted turkey) and I really need to vent after all that's happened in the past week.

Last week, up until yesterday night, I was successfully able to screw up my life by getting into a car accident at night, not prepare for my IPC and film presentations and just yesterday, destroy the trust of a friend come acquaintance who had been faithfully giving me rides to and fro campus pro bono. And the most devastating part of all of this, was that it all could have been avoided if only I had listen to my head and not my heart.

My parents tell me it's all part of a learning process. Their final sentence, after everything I've been able to say to them in shame and utter agony is never beyond, "You can't change what has happened. Learn from it." I honestly gotta admit, it pains me when I hear that, because time and time again I tell myself to shake it off and move on, but I end up screwing myself over - each and every single time. It's a vicious cycle, and it bites me so hard that I find myself unable to stand up again after each fall. I am always so astonished at how easily I fall for temptation, even after having reinforced it in my head over and over again. Upon sharing this with a friend, he remarked, "Temptation is ever present, and it will always be the pitfall of man." I don't recall exactly what it was he said, but I know it was somewhere along those lines. And damn, that hit me hard.

So what else would I have classically done, if not dwell in a little introspection and abashedly, self-pity? I will be honest, it didn't appear to me that way until I'd prayed last night, crying myself to sleep and discovering this startling epiphany in the morning. Every single time I'd made a bad mistake, all I'd ever do is burst into tears and start hating myself. I'd condemn myself for being such an incompetent person, and I'd verbally abuse myself into believing I was a dumb fool, and there was nothing I could do to change it. I couldn't very well blame anyone else for my incompetence because I made that decision, in spite of knowing what I really needed to do, so there. Therefore, it always boiled down to wallowing in self-blame, self-hate and inevitably, self-pity.

Last night however, as I recalled everything that happened to my parents, pathetically sobbing in the car, I realized I can't go on with such an attitude. I can't simply just react after something bad happens and expect people to sympathize with me. I can't just cry and expect the other person whom I've hurt to feel my pain and see me swallow my own guilt. I can't just "shake it off" and pretend nothing ever happened. I can't just do all of that, because life doesn't resolve itself - YOU DO. Instead, I realize now that I have to come clean and own up for my mistakes. I have to say "I'm sorry" not because I want to garner responses of "It's okay, it's not your fault", but because I genuinely am apologizing for my mistakes. I have to ACCEPT that whatever has happened, has indeed happened, and I can only remember not to repeat the same mistakes again if I am to effectively move on.

And so I prayed last night, the way I haven't prayed in weeks. I turned to the Bible and I practiced speaking in tongues. I initiated control over the situation, and asked God for help. In Philippians 4:6-7 it says, "Do not be anxious for anything but in everything through prayer and petition, present your requests to the Lord. And the peace of God which transcends all understanding will guard our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus." Never had I seen such a profound significance in the reading of the scripture since I was last on fire for God, which was a really long time ago. I won't say it's a flame yet, but there's definitely a spark. As far as chasing after God goes, however, patience is the order of the day, and I don't instantly reap what I sow.

Nevertheless, I am confident that soon I will regain my composure. Two nights ago I dreamt of the accident, and it all happened too vividly. I saw myself unconscious of the fact that I was driving, and as a result, I'd slammed the brakes all too quickly when I realized I'd have to come to a halt in order not to hit the car in front. And then the sound of the crash, resounding in the dream. Twice, and then some. I woke up in a state of anxiety, and I was afraid again. It was as if a mixtape of a trance track titled, "It was all your fault" kept replaying in the music player of my mind. I only told my mum and a close friend of mind about this, and now, this invisible dwelling of a literary amateur, yours truly. Having said all of this, I acknowledge I need to face my demons. I need to say "NO" when I have to. I need to be conscious of the decisions that I make, and evaluate the consequences of performing a certain action before I proceed with anything. There will not be a next time, in the simplest of terms. I will not succumb to reckless driving. I will not let the circumstances dictate how I fare - it should be otherwise.

The other thing my mum said to me was to establish focus. From the very beginning, my very aim was to get to a university in the United States and graduate with a bachelor's degree in psychology and a minor in mass communications. It didn't matter where God would have placed me, as long as the university is reputable and offers financial aid. Ivy League was out of my, well, league. But it didn't matter. There were other ways I could still achieve that, even if it had to happen a little later in life. Anyhow, with that goal in mind, my priority was to achieve academic and co-curricular excellence here in Malaysia before I transferred over to the States. Fair enough, as far as I've come, God has enabled me to achieve that, and even made it a bonus that I got to serve him as part of my ECAs, with my involvement in the Christian Fellowship. How could I have asked for more?

And yet what did I do this year to undermine that goal? First, I made a rash decision to get into a relationship because everything seemed so novel to me and I thought I'd "try it out". Once I got out of that blunder, I unconsciously went ahead to seek refuge from a group of friends, whom I felt would help me transition back into life better and I unintentionally led on a friend of mine to believe that I was interested in getting attached again. And if that wasn't enough, I'd went on to make a lot more stupid decisions to break my curfew, go out even though I knew I should be obedient to my parents and rip off the bandages of my unhealed wounds, thinking it was all gonna be fine. All that also came with a couple of damages I caused my car, and allowing myself to listen to negative thoughts as well as dismiss God so many times I cannot count. The more recent events encompass what I've said about last week.

So there, you see now what a mess I really am? As much as I'd overestimated the force of humanity to empathize with others, it really is my fault for setting myself up for failure. Thus, I will stop attempting to appease others and focus on the goal at hand, which is all of the above (two paragraphs above) and make sure I achieve it. Everything else is of less importance. And since I now have every bit of control of how I want to live my life, I will surround myself with people who are set on the same goals, who I can effectively encourage and expect to have their encouragement. The rest I shall keep at an arm's length, so I do not allow peer pressure to blow me apart and that I do not impose the pressure of academic excellence on those who have other aspirations in life.

But really, the one thing that struck me last night was what my dad said. I don't always talk to my dad, and when I do, we always end up arguing. We're both outspoken people, and we are professionals at asserting what we believe in with the most amplified of vocals, and therefore, our difference in opinion always results in verbal clashes. However, last night, my dad spoke for something he believed in not to undermine my opinion, but to provide insight. My dad imparted to me last night that there is no such thing as perfection - no one can be perfect, at any degree of attempt. He even went on to say that if you set yourself up to be perfect, you will indefinitely fail and if you expect that of your fellow peers, you will be greatly disappointed. I'd never seen myself as a perfectionist, but what he said exposed that facade of my personality. I won't say I'm ashamed of it, but I was then aware of it. And it was true, what my dad said. I had to make allowances for the mistakes and shortcomings of others, because I certainly was and still am susceptible to them myself. I could not expect others to be perfect, or even have the sense to empathize with my thoughts and beliefs because I have the same problems doing so, myself.

If there's anything good that came out of the self-imposed crap I had to undertake last week, it's clarity. All that introspection has somewhat rendered me constantly tired, but at least I don't have to carry this weight on my shoulders anymore. While I'm bombarded with a flashback of the past every now and then, I'm making a conscious decision to dismiss that thought and recite scriptures. I sometimes think God is crazy for wanting to test me with such difficult obstacles, but with every step I overcome, I become stronger.

Come to think of it, it's kinda like the obstacles are the ribosomes, and my increasing strength is the polypeptides synthesized from mRNA, which is likened to my character, by the ribosomes. The obstacles produce the best of me.

I seriously should get back to studying for finals.

A mental note

1. When people ask, "How are you?", do not ever go beyond a simple "I'm fine, thank you." Always assume that such gestures are out of courtesy and that not everyone is genuinely interested in how you're really feeling.

2. When being introduced to another person, always make it a point to personally introduce yourself by offering a handshake to the person being introduced to. Never just stand there awkwardly and ponder upon what was missing during the entire encounter before finally realizing you should have had some initiative.

So those were just a couple of things I constantly need to remind myself to abide by, each and every day of my life. I'm a strange kid, really. It might seem like common sense to most people, but I've lived with an inferiority complex far too long that I haven't quite established those rules in my social life. However, I am currently taking the initiative to do so by jotting it down, so I don't easily forget.

I'd really love to write more, but unfortunately, my finals start this Friday and will only end next Wednesday. And even then, I'll probably be off on a presumably grandiose escapade for about a day or two at a familiar setting and then some, so you'll have to wait a bit if you want a substantial post with pictures and what not.

Meanwhile, go ahead and enjoy your very lives to the fullest. It really is more interesting than you make it to be, if only you'd take it upon yourself to discover what it is.

God bless all of you, and have a great week ahead!

Un chien andalou

These days I find myself becoming a realist more than ever. Imagination doesn't easily entice me anymore - the wave of reality tends to sweep me back into this seeming pothole of stressful college life. Surely working life must be more tedious than this, and yet I fail to recognize the given graces I have received.

It's strange, really. I don't find excitement striding by the fiction novels section in the bookstore anymore. I don't prance about in glee when I see the new installment to the science fiction trilogy I was so ensconced with a while go. I examine the covers of recommended reads, read the synopsis at the back, only to discover that I've come across another cliche tale of two war torn souls, or of individuals attempting to start anew and yet have the past chase them.

It doesn't affect me anymore, and that in itself, affects me.

And you know what else is strange? Listening to M83's Hurry Up, We're Dreaming album about two years after it's release. Previously, I've only ever heard Midnight City, Reunion, When Will You Come Home? as well as Train to Pluton, but even so, in inaccurate order. I don't know why this matters to me, but it somehow does. I guess M83 just instills this sense of surrealism within your psyche that it arrests your ability to think logically and you somewhat just forget what you really mean to say in the first place.

Having said that, there's really nothing more satisfying than driving at a hundred on a highway, college bound, just as the sun is coming up while listening to Midnight City. Or any other track on the 2 disc deluxe album.

On a slightly more hopeful note, I think I'm a little more optimistic now in life. I've come to realize that it's okay to be me. It doesn't matter whether or not my college friends care about me or what I think, or whether they even see me as a friend in spite of my inability to connect with their thoughts in Mandarin. It doesn't matter that I don't have a boyfriend now in college and that my parents will see to it that I don't get involved in any relationships until I graduate. It doesn't matter what people say about my ability to speak Chinese, as long as I know fairly well enough that I can and that I am the decider of the language I choose to utilize in communication.

It doesn't matter that I hate being associated with individuals of a certain excessively populated group I constantly hang out with and not being able to hang out with people I think I can click with. It doesn't matter that once this semester is over, I may almost return to my state of loneliness again because chances are my Honey Boo Boo, Mei Mei and Kennard (no nickname for him) will drift apart from me, just as they did during the summer sem when I had no mutual classes with them. It doesn't matter that my opinions aren't counted for, because apparently everything I say is too complex and nobody wants to talk about the hard stuff so I'll just save them for the future when I get to give my very own TED talk.

It doesn't matter that I'll be stuck here longer than most of my peers, because at least I know what I'm getting myself into and I will be prepared for that life-changing moment when it comes. It doesn't matter that I'm a little slow at getting the things I want, or even need, because I know that life isn't simply about right here and right now - good things will come to us in the right way, at the right time. It doesn't matter that I have to have a little less, because my parents work hard for every single thing that I own right now, including this laptop in which I am constructing this blog post on and the broadband in which my connection to you is being established.

I couldn't be more grateful for having a little less, because it makes me appreciate life more.

I must admit, I was about to burst after all that pressure, and all the stupid questions people imposed upon me. I really didn't need another "Hey, you look tired, go and sleep," or an "Are you okay?" that comes out of obligation and of no concern. I often play it off pretty well when faced with the falsity of expressions, but this week was the final straw. I was just so tired, so tired of all the stupid jokes, of all the subliminal discriminatory antics, of all the unwanted innuendos. I had enough.

But if there's anything I've learned from the past eighteen years of my life where these situations have taken place time and time again, from primary school to high school and even now, in university, it's the fact that I don't need everything to be happy. I only have one decision to make, and it's important that I choose what is right.

And I choose happiness.

Therefore, I also choose sleep. Because I know well enough that I am simply tired, and that when I wake up tomorrow morning, I'll be fine again and all this anger will dissipate into the artificially cooled air I am currently breathing.

Je t'aime. One aunt.

Going somewhere

With the end of the year inching closer, I'm beginning to realize that my time here in Malaysia up until my departure to the States (and hopefully beloved California) is running fast. I haven't quite figured how to put my current emotions into words, so I thought I'd do a short photo blog post instead. These shots, as you may have predicted, were from my trip to Singapore during the summer break this year. I don't remember the last time I ever delved in photo editing (no, Instagram does not count) and although I'm losing a huge amount of sleep tonight before my hiking trip tomorrow, it's been a pretty therapeutic endeavor. It feels as if a part of me has returned, and I am finally at peace with myself. Catharsis, to say the least.

This upcoming winter (well, not really in Malaysia) break will see me take on Bangkok and possibly, two part time jobs. It's truly a rarity to be on two vacations in the same year, but I praise God for everything. I praise Him for the fact that I'm still alive and breathing, as cliche as it sounds. It truly is a blessing to be out and about, rekindling a lost love for a long, untouched hobby and spending time with the people you love, knowing that every second is to be counted for.

And I couldn't ask for anything more, the good and the bad. I have more than I'd ever imagined I would have, and all glory goes to Him.

The flu bug

I haven't always been a fan of taking breaks on the basis of health circumstances, but I think I can let this one go. I've been taken aback by the virus that's been going around lately due to the fluctuating weather conditions and flurry of activity as the end of the year approaches, and am currently resting at home. I'm acutely aware that there's plenty of deadlines that need to be accommodated, but when the flu bug gets you - IT GETS YOU. Fortunately, I'm not as helpless as I was yesterday evening when I was down with conjunctivitis, flu, sore throat and mild body aches. As of now, only my throat is proving to be an absolute nuisance but I think I can take not being able to sing for the next couple of days than having to deal with a swollen eye in that same timeframe.

Earnestly, I think this unplanned hiatus is a blessing in disguise. I don't recall the last time I ever properly sat down on a decent enough chair and decently enough reflected on the battles I daily fought while allowing my mental wounds to heal. It's always been about getting something done, or spending time with people before they officially drift out of friendship and love, or even simply making sure not a second goes wasted in the day. Time and time again, I've unconsciously put everything else first and "I" just haven't made it into my own list of priorities yet. The supposition that work and loved ones are above all has overwhelmed me and the phrase "You can rest when you're dead" seems a rather legitimate motto to abide by as of late. Simply put, the notion of borrowed time permeates the very recesses of my mind, disallowing me from ever contemplating rest as a viable option. I guess all of this somewhat snowballed into one and sent me knocked off course for a bit.

And so the question arises - how have I fared recently? Physical maladies aside, I am quite well in most endeavors. The academic load never seems to decline as the pace has quickened lately, but I have been matching it rather well. As for CF and church, the end is speedily approaching with the occurrence of the CF picnic for the former and GY Camp in the latter. There's been a lot of proposals due and fundraising activities have been underway in the past few weeks, but I think it's safe to say that all activity has been effective in manner. Moreover, contributing to the fundraising has enabled me to bond with some of the youth leaders I haven't been speaking to in a while. Their constant encouragement has brought me back to cell again, which has inevitably expanded in my absence. There are so many newcomers lately that I have begun to lost track, but I praise God that His work continues to be done even in the midst of trial and tribulation.

I never imagined cell would have evolved into such a vibrant entity since the departure of key people who made cell what it was, but God is ever faithful by ushering in young blood whom I hope will someday carry on this legacy just as well. Similarly, time has seen me become the youth leader I signed up to be as I made difficult decisions with the intention of obeying and honoring God, and I've found myself relating to the younger and new attendees of cell as I share my testimony on how God has been faithful in upholding me throughout life in trying times. These little things are what reaffirm my faith and they remind me that I do not carry on in vain, but that a seed has been planted in the lives of others.

I wish I could stay here for as long as I want to and continue sharing with you the goodness of God and the curiosities that have struck my feeble mind, but I must rest. These pills are making me drowsy, and I need to harness enough energy to finish my assignments later in the day. Until I recover, you will just have to be satisfied with this brief account.

I must say this, though. If you've stuck with me since the very beginning you discovered this blog and have kept on reading, even in the midst of hiatus and in the midst of dreary, depressing posts, I thank you. I thank you that you've been faithful. I do not thank you for prying into my life and granting me attention - no, that is not my intention. But instead, I am grateful that every word has been read, that every photo has been savored visually and that every fiber of my soul that emanates through my work has acquainted itself with you. Writing is a passion. It connects my soul to yours, and yours to mine. There's really more to it than just words, it's the communing between two eager, anticipating souls.

So thank you for sticking with me through it all. Someday when I do publish my own books or write about the things that I feel and care for, I will look back and remember all of you. Know this, I will never forget my first batch of readers. Ever.

The oblivion of growth

It baffles me how adults and the elderly find growth such an amusing prospect. It was a thought that struck me a few days ago when I bumped into an old friend of mine from piano class, along with her mother at church. While I was surprised to see them there, especially since it's been four years now since our last encounter, I think they were even more taken aback over the brief reunion. My friend didn't say much in particular, but her mother was astounded at the sight of me. Apparently I'd lost some weight (that's what they all say) and had become prettier, according to her. Personally, I never take such compliments into account, although I did thank them and wished them well on their way. Anyhow, this occurrence made me reflect on the numerous encounters I've had in the past few weeks with people who have been a huge faction of my childhood, whom I haven't seen in the longest time until as of late. Their responses towards me, although in varying forms of speech, were unanimous. I had grown, and it somewhat fascinated them that I did.

Well, isn't that strange, considering how we're constantly told that we know ourselves best and yet the slightest difference on ourselves go personally unnoticed, but picked out by others?

I have yet to be presented with answers as to why older people react as they do when they finally see me or my sister at reunions after having not laid their eyes on us for an extended period of time. And there's also that question of if we're fit to be betrothed to someone when they know very well marriage is a concept that takes its course in a timely manner. Even though I see their good intentions and their wildly bygone sense of humor, it puzzles me how such sentiments come into play au naturale.

When I look at myself in the mirror, I see the same girl I was for the past eighteen years of my life and I begin to question if I was any different back then from the person I am now. Surely, certain changes have taken place in growth or in character, but why does its occurrence interest us in the first place? One of the answers frequently employed resound that growth is directly proportional to the passing of time. I for one, find that difficult to argue upon, but that cannot be the final answer. After all, it is a correlation and not causation, for growth does not cause time and neither does it occur vice versa. I have yet to discover what this third variable is, and it is beginning to frustrate me a little.

Sometimes I wonder if I might someday become like them, so easily amused by a difference in size and stature in spite of very well-knowing that it is inevitable. Will I laugh heartily while commenting on how quickly the greater days have come and gone? Or will I let the reign of nostalgia terrorize me at the sight of a grown infant, or my own sagging skin? Will the wrinkles be a testament of joy to having lived the life, or will I hold back and allow the recesses of a regretful past permeate my memory?

A pile of disorganized thoughts in my mind, that's what this is.

Not all is fair in love and war, it seems

It almost always never occurs to anyone that they'd become a veteran of war at the unripe age of eighteen. We were so young and enticed by the biological weaponry of love and attraction, clamoring our way onto the battlefield without ever completely understanding what it was worth. We charged right into it without doubt, constantly deeming advancement greater than stagnation, as action became the ultimate moral imperative. Little then did we know that it took more than a desire, or a battle cry to sustain something as hefty as our hearts, and prevent ourselves from losing it in the first place.

But wars aren't always won. Often, we are led to become all too vulnerable and in effect, we forget that we must defend ourselves, just as much as we offend. As a matter of fact, the defense line is almost always frowned and chided upon, for their lack of mobility, for their absence of risk. Nevertheless, risks aren't evaluated adequately, and as a result, poor judgment is placed upon those who wait, who observe, who stay put. And yet, their possession of such patience finally becomes their reward.

So here we are - the rest of us, with the remnants of our injuries painted on our backs, with our scars exhibited like an unexpected inking on our once whole bodies, with the tides washing away the ruins of a temporal structure in abject slowness of pace. Yet, this is the evidence of having lived. And if anything has been acquired through the lost of our sanctity, it is wisdom.

Preacher

When I was a kid, my grandfather was a preacher
He talked about God, yeah he was something like a teacher
He said God only helps those who learn to help themselves
He was a million miles from a million dollars, but you could never spend his wealth.

And with that, I usher in a new season of blogging.

Truth to be told, I'm still a little apprehensive about using this as my main platform of self-expression. The past few months have proven that I've somewhat switched loyalties from writing for myself to writing in commemoration of a past significant other and for that reason, I went on a temporary hiatus. It's been invigorating to be able to reflect on what's been happening and delve into introspection and I think I can safely say that I've taken the time I usually spend writing to live and savor each moment to it's fullest. It helps to be able to acquire memories and not constantly have to worry about what kind of memories they are, or how it would be best to phrase them or even the superficiality of how many responses I'd attain from publicizing them. Instead, the lessons I've learned remain within my psyche, as well as between close friends, now that I've found sisters in campus. Really, it's been refreshing from the usual sausage fest.

In spite of the detriment it portrays, I've always associated pain with growth. Well, that probably never occurred to me as a child, but as I entered into my adolescence and even as I transition into the realm of adulthood, I constantly find new things to ponder upon after each painful experience. Pain fuels me - it ensconces me into the temporal fatality of consequence, then resurrects me into life a learned and wise entity. I've always seen myself as having little tolerance for physical pains and I've constantly undermined my ability to withstand emotional pain, but having endured life thus far, I've found that I'm much stronger than I presume myself to be. I can't entirely take credit for that, however, for it is God that consistently provides me with strength and the will to carry on, to see the bigger picture and to wait patiently for divine intervention in dimensions man cannot alter. Indeed, faith levels do fluctuate but in spite of everything, God is omnipresent.

I know I've promised myself I won't talk about the past anymore, but earnestly, I'm glad to see him moving on. Rumor has it that he's been seeing someone else, but I'm okay with that. Avoidance and sheer uninvolvement have been the order of the day in the past few weeks, in which I initially found uncomfortable but now find necessary. I've come to understand that in the business of moving on, distance and time play a crucial role, especially if a friendship is to be retained. It's been a little difficult for me to draw lines, having erased them a while ago and having no memory of their function, but I'm slowly gaining the ability to discern what is and what isn't and set boundaries accordingly. Sometimes, wishful thinking and the constant bombardment of 'what if's diminish me into lows, wondering what could have been, but I'm standing my ground. What's done is done, it cannot be undone. I can only take note of the mistakes I've made and promise myself to never make them again. At least now I'm absolutely sure what I'll do if I find another gem in the future - I won't let go.

All in all, things haven't been easy. I'm being challenged physically, academically and spiritually on a daily basis, and the world shows no sign of decrease in the exertion of its influence on me. Nevertheless, I strive to achieve my goals, to stand for my beliefs, to live above reproach and to attain selflessness. As for everything else, the trick is not to try, but to do. It is not the ATTEMPT that counts, it is the ACTION itself that does. Lately, I've been getting things done instead of trying to get things done. Regardless of my level of confidence and expertise, I dive right into whatever I do and make sure it gets completed. I suppose in that sense, I've become more disciplined as of late, and am quite sensitive to the Spirit. It's been a really eye opening experience to actually say that I've been there and I've done that, but even more importantly, that I've overcome my inhibitions.

So I guess that's pretty much all I have to say. The rest is detail, and I'm really in no mood to elaborate as I recently just completed 2 tests and 1 quiz, all after spending a weekend away committing myself to the Amazing Race organized by my university program. A real rewarding experience it has been, but I'll leave that for another day.

Counting stars

It's a shame I won't be going for OneRepublic in October. Anyhow, I ought to remind myself that patience is a virtue — it'll be worth it when I hit the States and hopefully, attend a Coldplay gig. Everything else really is secondary, gig-wise.

Since I completed my finals last Monday, I've had an early end to the summer semester and a three week break on my hands. A large part of me is pleased that I am now entitled to participate in all the activities I've been putting off since this short and frantic semester began, but I cannot say that I am entirely happy with the current arrangements. I know fairly well that I must utilize the break to it's full potential and ensure that last semester's folly does not repeat itself, but planning is easier said than done. I presently have a few ideas in my mind, but the lack of organization and required funds continuously resonates as unfeasible, much to my dismay.

I suppose I shall defuse the lack of organization by first making a list of activities I intend to immerse myself in.

Leisure :

1. Finish reading Chobsky's Perks of Being a Wallflower

2. Commence reading Mo Yan's Red Sorghum and Pamuk's The Museum of Innocence (and fingers crossed, complete it by the end of the semester break)

3. Learn to bake at least 2 items provided on the SORTED food website (I've settled for strawberry shortcake for my first culinary adventure!)

4. Watch the Gran Torino (kinda pointless since I no longer have Cross-cultural comm but oh well)

5. Watch some other movies because I haven't hit the cinema since the last semester break ended

6. Try out the Escape Room at e@Curve, someday

Travel :

1. Embark on a trip to Penang Island with a bunch of my college mates

2. Take on a day-trip food adventure in Ipoh with Nick and Dennis

3. Head down to KL for a photo walk (doesn't seem feasible though since I don't have any photography enthusiasts in my current college circle, but we'll see)

Servanthood/Work :

1. Update CF database weekly with newcomers' details
2. Check CF e-mail (gotta do this err day)

3. Attend CF during sem break

4. Get template for birthday bookmarks from Voon Ann and initiate printout

5. Help Esther out with decor at Youth Alpha on Sundays

6. Get people at Uth to join cell

7. Complete hours at the merch store for scholar's work (never ending, it seems. Sigh.)

Well, well, I've certainly got my hands full. Ah, c'est la vie.

On a lighter note, I spent my first day of freedom yesterday attending CF and engaging in conversation with a few of my college mates on campus. Pertaining to CF, I think things were a little chaotic. I asked to switch roles with Joshua who was the emcee for the day so I could put off writing the attendance (there were plenty of new faces and I couldn't keep track!) and take advantage of his late-coming, thinking it'd be an easier task. But boy, I was wrong. Although I'd written down the sequence of events on a slip of paper, I totally blanked out at the sight of the much larger crowd that day. I did carry on with the emceeing, but I think I did a pretty terrible job yesterday. I just wasn't prepared. And I solemnly vowed to never emcee at CF again. I'll probably find the courage to try it again sometime, but it won't be any soon. And to think that I was uber self-confident and all that other stuff to do with superiority complexes.

But there was a lesson learnt in the midst of all that chaos; what I did yesterday was out of my own strength, and it should have been God working through me. This literally means I gotta do my devotions and read the Word fervently!

In spite of the disaster I wreaked in emceeing, I was really encouraged by the testimonies shared by the YWAM team. There were testimonies of what God had done in their lives through YWAM and a brief sermon on evangelism by one of the YWAM-ers. It really sparked a thought in me about how simple evangelism really is in spite of our fears and inhibitions, and it reminded me that it is always the work of the Holy Spirit and never ourselves that people are brought into salvation. As of now, I'm determined to get involved in outreach — serving in Youth Alpha is part of the baby steps I'm taking in pursuit of that.

With regards to my recent social endeavors, I've been allocating a fair amount of time engaging in conversations with my college mates and youth group. I don't have much to say about the former, given that I spend a considerably large amount of time with them on campus, at food places and such. And as the saying goes — same shiznit, different day, I've begun to see a lack of purpose in engaging with them as a whole devotedly. The only other thing that draws my attention is perhaps the fact that I've not been able to fully vindicate a specific someone of their doing, and it has continued to affect personal relationships without cause. I've surrendered the cause to prayer and I'm only hoping some divine intervention will take place, as absurd as it seems to you presumably faith-lacking lot. But we'll just have to wait and see.

As for the latter, I've been feeling a little excluded and isolated lately. Some of the youths were at the gala dinner the other day, and they took a group photo together, all decked out in formal wear for the night. I was a little apprehended honestly, given that I wasn't even aware anyone had made plans to attend the gala dinner. And to think that my parents were attending as well, and they hadn't bothered to ask if I was interested to go. I guess weeks of hostility and bitterness can go a long way, if left unresolved. Lately it seems as if my parents have left me completely to my own devices, but I suppose I should be spending more time with them. They're probably afraid to initiate it anyway, so I might as well make the first move. Entering adulthood isn't that fun after all, especially when your parents take you for granted.

Whoaaa. This post escalated pretty quickly.

I'll stop here for today. Hopefully some of those items on the list above get crossed out soon, and I'll be a little more productive later on. Au revoir.

Anthropologist

Before you question my credibility in writing this post, let it be known that I've been succumbing to isolation and sheer introversion in the past week and am in no position to justify my thoughts and actions. Everything you will read in the following paragraphs are the raw manifestations of the mental injuries I have been subjected to, so do try to keep your judgment as minimal as possible (if I may ask that of you).

Throughout my life, I can safely say that never once have I ever felt a permanent sense of social belonging. For one, I've never arrived at a point where I've totally conformed towards the values and behaviors of a social group. I could be well-acquainted with how things are run within the circle, or even pick up particular attributes that very well mark the individual with the collective, but I've never been known to totally immerse myself in the specifics and in turn, become one with the group. As much as I drive myself to exert the characteristics synonymous to the environment I am thrust into, there is no point of finality, or so to speak, social nirvana, for me. I will never bring myself to say that I truly belong, for there is always bound to be something that exhibits me as uncommon, or peculiar, to say the least.

Within every social group, there are a key set of characteristics that each member is well acquainted with and will exert in the course of their membership. It's a given fact, whether consciously or subconsciously, that we tend to bind ourselves to a code of conduct in order to reinforce our identities via the institutions that provide them. Even I cannot distinguish myself from this rule, for man is a social animal and therefore, I am. Most of the time however, I tend to lie on a continuum when it comes to the supposed ratio of compatibility I possess with members of a certain social group. As a result, I easily tire myself from the endeavors I forcibly participate in. Every day, I am reminded that assimilation is the general order, and conformity the price I pay to dissociate from my penchant of insecurity. I am barely amused by the living souls that contribute energy towards the sustenance of a circle, and I often find most people appalling.

Frankly, I am also aware that this distaste is mutual on their part. I could very well be minding my own business, expressing my personal thoughts towards any individual, and a particular character will somewhat find a way to spit out rebuttals with a waterfall of sarcastic phrases, gushing out to evoke fury within whom these statements are directed to. Suddenly, I am aware - aware that I do not belong where I am not accepted, where I am not loved, and that I should go.

Occasionally, I do find the exceptional human being in this endless search for solace. I am well attracted to the intellectual, philosophical mind, but it is just the same with a soul of sheer simplicity. I constantly admire how pure the latter's aspirations are, how little the expectations they hold unto life, and how easily amused and entertained they are, a trait reinforced by their oblivion towards sarcasm and dark humor. Their emotions are genuine - so utterly untainted, unlike the superficiality displayed by the average, ignorant person.

As for the former, I've always been intrigued by the cerebration of a complex mind, and it brings me comfort to know that there are others like myself, who still exist in this world and are determined to deconstruct it mentally, even if it meant to dwell in an alternate reality and take the path less traversed upon. Nevertheless, this faction remains in a relatively small number, and I have known some of them long enough to have seen them switch allegiances, giving way to peer pressure. Ultimately, I've seen some become so immersed in assimilating that they somewhat lose themselves in the process. I guess tragedy is inevitable.

Nevertheless, with every entry into and departure from the factions that have actively crafted my social web, I become enlightened. By building rapport with the people I am surrounded with, I learn a little more about the myriad of human attitudes towards life and the general demeanor they exude. With every conflict that rises within the circle, I probe into the complexities of human character and classify them into categories where need be. Ultimately, I generalize - I take into account the collective culture of a social circle and put them into boxes to be neatly tucked away in the recesses of my mind.

And that is why I have titled this post as such, for I see myself as an anthropologist - a social scientist who studies the origin, the behavior, and the physical, social, and cultural development of humans. Traditionally, anthropologists studied tribal groups but as there are no "undiscovered" groups remaining in the world, the focus of anthropology has shifted to industrializing and agricultural societies. It's a flexible and progressive field of study, don't you think?

Academia aside, I somewhat find this analogy rather adequate in describing my current circumstances. Perhaps things aren't as dull and uninspiring as it seems, but my judgment has been rather clouded as of late. I know I should be dwelling on the Word of God more frequently and I do find clarity upon reading scriptures, but there are moments when I just can't help but concoct secularist queries which somewhat undermine the ability of faith. I guess now that I've penned all of this down, I've got my answer and should therefore move on with my life.

But I am curious to know, what say you?

Letting go

The most difficult part about letting go is precisely that - just letting go.

You're almost there. You've done everything you've had to do, to deviate from the past and move on. You've become a whole lot more spiritual over the months, confiding in God. You've set some distance between yourself and the people who've hurt you, the ones who broke your heart. And you've finally reconciled with them, albeit conventionally. Time had taken it's toll and although you're no longer whole as you once were, the sutures between the broken pieces are finally closing in and you're almost alright again. Just almost.

And then it comes.

Thoughts. Words. Rumors going about, giving you a glimpse of something contrary to what you've striven to achieve so far. You hear them talk about the presence of a brand new persona, and the seams around your heart begin to loosen. You've held it in, you've buried it in the ground and now it threatens to surface once more. You pick up your needle and thread, quickly holding up your fragile heart and attempt to patch up the loose ends. As you create miniature piercings on your heart with the needle, something leaks. It begins like a subtle tune, and then it becomes a song. Soon it flows, and memories, both good and bad pour out. You panic and accidentally drop your heart on the ground - partially stitched, partially open. You watch it lie pathetically on the ground, but resort to pick it up again. Is it still beating? Is it still alive?

Or is it on the verge of self-destruction, dying as it withholds the heavy sewing it was subjected to?

And then the tears roll down your cheek. You begin to ask yourself, "What have I done?" You cry out, begging for mercy, asking for a brand new heart. You just want to forget, and start all over. How will you ever restore it to it's original condition? You don't want the world to see you like this. You curse yourself for letting the memories burst out at the seams, although you aren't entirely to blame. But you know the world is cruel, it will not change your circumstances to suit your current state of having no composure.

You'll have to adapt.

So you go back to Step 1 and begin the same process all over again. You isolate yourself. You avoid silence in public, but delve in it completely in private. You rely on God all over again to provide you with strength, with wisdom. And you continually remind yourself that it is over, and that whatever surfaces is irrelevant - just a fragment of your subconscious mind poking humor at you. You dismiss thoughts, replace them and distract yourself with everything else. And you try to move on. Soon enougn, you regain composure. You reconcile with time, and your heart seems alright.

But you know it isn't the end. Something will strike you, and render you to succumb to misery all over again. And the next thing you know, it's rinse and repeat. Will you ever escape this cycle?

However, this time you recognize it, and that you try to fight back. You try as hard as you can to retaliate. The chances are slim, but you do it anyway. You might lose the battle, but you know you'll eventually win the war. You know you're more than this, more than flesh and bone and they try to kill you from the inside.

But as long as you fight - as long as you don't give in, you haven't lost. Just because you're losing, it doesn't mean you've lost. And you persevere.

The stress factor

Do bear with me if I'm not linguistically up to par at the moment, because I'm on the verge of burning out. As much as I'd hate to say it, fading away is much better than burning out because at this rate I'm not about to burst into fireworks - I'm bound to explode.

Having reinforced the notion of spontaneous combustion, I shall move on to the more personal albeit dreary accounts of my life (social, academic, whatever man). So what does one have to know briefly about my current daily undertakings? I shall begin by stressing on how, uh, well, stressed I suppose, I am. I'm honestly to exhausted to come up with perfectly structured sentences with choice vocabulary, so I shall deviate from common ground and choose the most menial of methods, which is to make a list.

Yes, a list. My dear readers, do not underestimate the power of lists. They can literally make or break you, depending on the circumstances you're ensconced in, of course. In my case, lists have the propensity to remind me that I am still alive and that there is constantly something to attend to every single day and if I don't commit myself to these tasks in a timely manner I will die. Literally.

Okay perhaps not, but you get the idea.

Signs that show I am stressed : 

1. The number of times I smile in a day decreases drastically.
2. I do not stop to converse, or even bid anyone hello for that matter.
3. My voice alters to a more serious (and sometimes extremely masculine) tone. Also, this is applicable to sore throats.
4. Everyone that gets in my way is an enemy during a crucial period of time. I kid you not.
5. I constantly fidget with my laptop and type excessively speedily.
6. I do not practice tact AT ALL. Like seriously, if you're just going to poke humor into my work, just f*** off.
7. If you persist with No. 6, I will be unafraid to lash out at you. And I won't be abashed either.
8. I start questioning lecturers of the possibility of retaking a certain subject in the next semester.
9. Telling me to calm down and not give any further input usually doesn't work.
10. I zone out. Literally.
11. I talk a lot. And I mean, A LOT. Most of which is irrelevant and may sound like gibberish. 

And in the midst of all the pandemonium, there's been a series of social misfortunes that have taken place just as well. It's almost as if life took it too seriously when I muttered, "Can it get any worse?!" with regards to my busy academic life and co-curricular activities, and spontaneously threw in the severing of ties between a good friend of mine with the group he was, and I still am acquainted with. I can earnestly say that I am absolutely clueless as to how to go about with it, since this friend of mine possesses a rather immobile frame of mind and everyone else is utterly confused and somewhat appalled by his behavior, either refusing to delve into the situation or remain ignorant. I won't go further into these details since I've promised to remain discrete, but politics within a group of friends is a concept I am rather unfamiliar with, and would prefer not to tread into.

On a lighter note, the CF retreat was a rather productive and interesting endeavor. I do believe that it is safe to say that I've become quite well acquainted and comfortable with my fellow committee members, and have a clear understanding on what everyone's personalities are like, thanks to the DISC assessment. I've already known what kind of personality I had since I took the test last year during GY Camp, but taking it again this year with the committee members was a different thing altogether. I received similar results in comparison with the last test, reinforcing my key trait as a D, which stands for dominance. Strangely enough, I was the only committee member with a D characteristic in the sea of Is (inducement), Ss (submission) and Cs (compliance). As of now I will not attempt to foretell who my conflicting personalities are and refuse to put people into boxes (as tempting as it is), but I am definitely looking forward to see what God has in store for me in serving for CF (as well as see who would dare push my buttons, heh).

I guess I've come to the end of the post as there are more important things for me to attend to, although I do find ranting an effective method of stress-release. But I think I've had my share, and now I will have to move on with my life. Au revoir!

Streetlights

The set of photos above were taken during the execution of my Sociology service learning project which comprised of volunteering for a soup kitchen initiative. That night, we were required to head downtown to the streets of KL and participate in distributing food to the homeless and less fortunate, who diligently came to collect their dues while simultaneously upholding a sense of awareness of the premises we were in and observing the behaviors of the individuals in such an atmosphere, all in relation to the sociological imagination and other related concepts.

My supposed skills in photography were requested by a classmate who corresponded with my Sociology lecturer, and thus, I was given the opportunity to capture these emphatically provoking images for recording purposes. I was initially a little hesitant, given that low-light photography was my Achilles' heel, but the endeavor soon proved to be less of a nuisance. I had the decency to use a portrait lens that would suffice in low-light conditions, and I was not merely restricted to recording the events that were taking place. Given that there were five pit stops, I devoted myself completely to serving at some stops and to photography at others.

I have to say, I don't think I've had that much fun partaking in community service than I did that night. It truly was overwhelming, the sense of satisfaction within me knowing that I was able to give without pretenses and watch as the world lit up in the lives of the recipient of our labor of love. It's crazy how these little things bring light not just in the lives of others, but in our own just as well.

By looking at these immortalized factions of my memory, I earnestly hope that you too, will somewhat envision the atmosphere and subject I intended to capture, and have the desire to discover for yourself not only what it is to be under the streetlight that lights up a premise, but to be the streetlight and shine right into the souls of the needy.

Nuggets : College prom

I guess going to prom stag wasn't too bad after all.

While I didn't get to dance (unless you count that one time I got my move on at the next table), everything else was much better than I'd expected it to be. It almost seemed as if every element of my high school prom that I'd absolutely loathed was redeemed by this one, from the details in the fabric such as the photo booth and the music, to the entire tapestry of the event - how the sequence of events were fabricated altogether. However, I won't say it was entirely impeccable either as the entire event was quite seniority-biased and did not exude as much grandeur as my high school prom, since it was held in a small scale. Nevertheless, I enjoyed the company I went with, and I was absolutely struck by the array of obscure songs in the playlist (TNAF, M83 and SHM. What more could I ask for?) As a self-acclaimed music connoisseur, the play list for the night inevitably covered all flaws.

All in all, I'm glad I went for prom. Although it was the ultimate causation to a tonne of stress as it was a last minute decision, I had a pretty decent time and plenty of memories to withhold for years to come. I'll probably have to skip the following prom though due to financial concerns, but I definitely have had a generous dose of promenades to last me a lifetime.

Anyhow, I won't leave you readers empty handed, especially not after attainment of probable philosophical revelations in life. So here are my two cents worth on how to make the most out of your prom stag, in list form.

1. Go to prom with company you know you'll enjoy being around.

Choosing good company to attend prom with can make a world of a difference. Always attend prom with people you're compatible with, and go in relatively larger groups so as to maximize the experience. While inclusiveness is a virtue worth investing in, prom might not be an event worth experimenting such a notion on, especially since it isn't cheap, and attending such an event with people who aren't there to cooperate and add to each other's experience will somewhat set you back - something you'll find when you reminisce the past in future times. 

2. Have as many Kodak moments as possible. 

If going to prom with your groupies doesn't equate to the term photo op, I honestly don't know what does. Not having a date for prom does not mean lesser photo opportunities or memories; in fact, it is quite the contrary. With no strings attached to anyone for the night, you're free to go around and ask for photos with the people you care about and the people you love without having the concern of leaving your date to his/her own devices for a prolonged period of time. This doesn't mean that having a date will decrease peer-based photo ops, but indefinitely, there are perks of being young, wild and free. 

3. Diversify. 

While it's nice to hang around a group of peers you've been accustomed  to, it's even better to associate with peers you don't necessarily spend plenty of time with. Head over to the neighboring table and initiate a brief conversation with someone you've seen around in college but never really got to know. Ask that one friend you've found an interesting specimen (ugh, science) out to the dance floor with you. With reference to the previous point, use the dress code as an excuse for a photo op with everyone and anyone. In summary, abandon your inhibitions; just get out there and have a blast!

I don't usually format my posts in such a manner, but I do think that it would serve as an initiative into making this blog a more purposeful platform of self-expression. In my opinion, this blog should not merely be a source of reflection, but an arena for the advocacy of insights that will aid or inspire others in the course of their lives as well. As cliche as it may seem, I've always believed that my writing will serve a greater purpose than to gratify the active persona, the self as subject, the "I". Instead, it should also consist of the self as object, the "me" which not only revolves around my perception of myself, but the perception of others as perceived by their actions, with the inclusion of myself.

And once again, that is what sociology/social psychology/psychology does to you. But I digress.

So there, college prom in a nutshell. Somewhat.

Nuggets : Of farewells and black burgers

So today was my first Sunday at church without Natalie. She's officially left for the land down under, and will be there for the next 2 years. While everyone else says she'll be back before we even know it, I realize I can't say the same. The chances are that when she finally returns, I'll already be away in the States.

I'm not sure if you still read my blog, but I'll risk it anyway.

Nat, thanks for being such a blessing in my life. I know it's only been a week, but it feels pretty strange not seeing you in youth this Sunday. And when I think about it, I realize I won't be seeing you in youth on Sundays for the next two years, unless you plan on coming back during your semester break. I really, really miss having you around. You've been one of the minute few I was and still am able to relate to, and you've been that person who can be prevailed upon to listen to what I have to say and often, understand what I've been through. I hope you'll enjoy life in Aussieland, and seize whatever opportunity that comes your way to pursue your own dreams and shine that light for the Heavenly Father. Oh and I'll be waiting for that parcel and expect raspberries to come my way.

Hopefully I'd have figured out how to bake a pavlova by then. It should be a breeze. Heh, who am I kidding.

I'll miss you, buddy. I hope you receive my love (and the scent of myBurgerlab burgers!) all the way from down under :)

With 1/3 of the Happen-Ning cell at myBurgerlab. We need to try the Cthulhu burger the next time we head out here.

I'll keep you in my prayers, Nat. And I wish you all the best in whatever you pursue in life.

Rebuttals : The Angmoh Wannabe

Having dealt with this issue throughout the entirety of my high school life, I felt there was a need to have my say on this topic. But don't get me wrong here - yes, I do agree that upholding an elitist behavior in an extreme manner can evoke a sense of irritation among the local population in which we are to adhere to, but I certainly do not agree upon such generalizations. Perhaps I'm wrong due to cultural and national differences, but this was an issue that really struck me to the core that I deemed fit for intervention due to the existing variables, namely my personal convictions and my newly shaped objectivity in terms of worldview.

All in all, I guess I think it's almost safe to say that I'm breaking into the scene as a writer in my own right. I could be wrong in my responses as I have this high propensity to internalize matters, but the fact that I am beginning to find the courage to stand for what I believe in - even on my own, is beyond measure.

P.S.: Do enlarge the screenshots by clicking on them in order to read the entire passage. My blog layout's width cannot be personalized, so until I do find a better layout, just bear with me at the moment :)

The Conundrum

There is no us.

It only is just me, and you. Two separate beings, living our own separate lives and pursuing our own dreams. Accomplishing the things we've been after all our lives, and seeking to fulfill the aspirations that have been embedded within us since childhood or possibly, birth. Spending quality time with our own friends and grasping the present as quickly as we can, before our youth becomes a fragment of the past. And just as desperately, we yearn for the future to advance upon us.

I've given up trying to find that piece of a puzzle, at the risk of sounding cliche. Time and time again, I've tried to seize every opportunity that I have into unraveling the tangled web of your intellect and interests, only to find that I become even more confused. I've laid myself bare, as difficult as it was for me to do, and yet sometimes all I ever attain is a generous amount of indifference. When I do receive some form of feedback, I encounter new riddles I have yet to discover the answer to. As culturally relative as I try to be, I absolutely detest it when one beats around the bush over a long period of time, to the extent that the original intended message is nullified. I wear my heart on my sleeve, reveal the parts of me you constantly wondered about and all I am given in return is a shrug and a sigh. And that's only if I'm fortunate and discern enough to hear it expressed. I would give anything to penetrate that seemingly everlasting silence.

I've come to see that there is in fact, no way towards reconciliation. The further I attempt to reach out to you, the further you seem to drift away. Every ounce of my courage is wasted every day with optimistic thoughts, the desire to mend the subtlest of bonds between us, in the least. And yet every day my efforts are fruitless and my persistence remains futile. The more I consciously work to erase the bitterness, the resentment and the overwhelming sense of regret that encumbers me daily, the more I unconsciously fall prey towards the forces of emotional vulnerability. Then, I am forced to put on a mask and uphold a facade that exudes charisma, grace and immense joy. While with the grace of God, I often am able to retrieve myself from what is perceived as a bottomless pit, it doesn't make me any less human or any more divine, than I already am. I still feel. And I do feel hurt.

But all I can do is smile. They say that if you're down, the only way you can go is up. Well, perhaps that's true - what occurs from this point onward is beyond my control, so why not focus on the things that do require my attention? If there's anything I've learned from all this anguish, this never ending frenzy of conflicting opinions and mental paradigms, it's appreciation. To appreciate those who love us, and love them back. To express our gratitude to those who have helped us along the way, in our inhibitions, in our silence and in our uttermost pains. To relate to the underlying sentiments deeply engraved in the souls of others, and be part of a camaraderie that is formed on the basis of the points advocated formerly.

After all, is it not true that all we ever want is to feel accepted, to feel as if we belong and to feel loved?

Daily, I seek to love. I choose to arrest the broken ones - the ones who have fears but are brave enough to face them, as well as the ones who have hurts but are courageous enough to forgive, and express my concern for them. I try to show as much affection as I can through speech and action, pray as earnestly as possible for their needs and allocate time if there is ever a need to address the faults and challenges we encounter in our lives. I need to be the best kind of friend I can be to whoever it is, because my conviction is that no one should have to deal with such matters alone, given that it took me a great deal of trial and tribulation to overcome the bitter portion of my life. If I can illuminate God's love unto others just as God did for me, I will not cease to do so.

Without a doubt, I admit I couldn't find a solution to my personal troubles. But perhaps some matters are best left undefined. If you can't figure out Y, it's probably best to leave the X alone.

I am done, and I'll call it a night.