Tuesday 25 September 2012

Making sense of myself

Have you ever had one of those days, or moments when you realised you'd said something that's not entirely true and wrong, and you need to backtrack on your words, but just don't know how?
Well, this is one of those times.
Now, to think of it again, I kinda change my mind...Sometimes, I think my mind sucks, because it just never could seem to make its mind up on some things. Sometimes, I felt like I don't even know who I am. And this sucks, coz I'm already almost two decades into my lifetime, and I still don't know who I am? I don't need you to tell me I'm screwed.
I guess what I'm trying to say is, I don't know if I'm morbid. If I'm really as dark as I think I am. Some thoughts that I have do terrify me at times, but I'm not always consumed completely by this darkness. There were times, and might be in the future, when I am truly happy. When I'm entirely detached from my dark side, and just felt...complete happiness. And those dark thoughts are just vague and distant objects that I couldn't even associate myself with them coz I'm just too caught up with the dream-like quality of pure joy. If that even make sense.
The reason that I wrote this is because, I wonder if we humans are really supposed to be dark, housed by our own terrifying demons that we've to battle to the end of our lives, or just born to be pure, innocent creatures that are only then created to become who we are to be? I can never make up my mind about that. I'm afraid of the latter being true because I'm afraid of who I'm going to be is entirely up to me, and I don't know if I can handle that kind of power. With great power comes great temptation. My own quote. I'm afraid of the former because of the endlessness. When is it ever going to end?
I'm afraid of the unknown. I'm tired of the uncertainty.
And I've a faint suspiscion that we humans, all are. That's probably why we are afraid of change. Because of the unknown.
Sometimes I wonder why I'm drawn to happy sweet stories. Maybe I need something positive to hold myself together? And I wonder why I'm drawn to morbid and twisted tales. Maybe because they remind me of myself, and make me felt less alone and terrifying? Maybe I like a bit of both because I need some positivity for strength and also reality to keep me prepared and grounded. Maybe I need both because I need to keep pushing on, but assured that it's still okay to fail sometimes. But still never ever lose sight of who I am in this final battle of good versus evil?
The thing is, I don't know. I'm still making sense of it all.

Thursday 6 September 2012

I am a hypocrite.

Yes, I'm a hypocrite.
Stumbled across a blog today, quite unexpectedly, and found a little something more than I bargained for. Dark Sanctuary.
The more I read her posts, the more I see myself in reflection. So why? Why am I hypocrite?
Because my writing is so vastly different from hers. Of course, I do not expect to be like her. I do have the wits (or experience, more like it) to know yet that no two people can be the same.
Yet...her words, her stories:
"There would be times when I am too bruised to interact with people. Every word uttered is like a blow to my soul, every breath leaves blisters on my skin. I want them to shut up and go away but all I can do is smile painfully and nod. I prayed so hard for them to leave me alone that I must have trembled at some point. Or screamed. Or clawed my face. Or I could have just continued smiling and nodding."
                          - Sheryl-
-Sheryl-
...is completely me. It's like I'm talking through her. Like the song, "Strumming my pain with his fingers, singing my life with his words, killing me softly wth his song...". Sheryl is writing about my life with her words, and it is killing me. It's like, having found someone who's so like you, you reckon, after all these years that it's impossible to have someone live your life. It's unfathomable.
I always thought that when I finally found someone who is so essentially like me, I would leapt with joy. Soared with happiness. That I would never feel that pitiful loneliness again.
I guess I shocked myself when I had felt jealousy too. You see, all this while, I'd thought there's not a single possibility of there being a someone like me. Or even a soul who could even remotely understand how I felt. Heck, not even my family understand me that well. And they're supposed to be theonly one who could ever had a chance of understanding me. But then sprung out this person, this girl who just wrote it all. Say what I wanted to say for all my life but never did say. Here's a girl who's not afraid to own it, and who's just so like me in some uncanny way, that I'm no longer special. And she's better than me, and more special than me, because she said it all. She is being her true self. And I'm not. Never have.
Because I was presumptious to think that no one will understand, so refrain from ever forming the mere thought of even explaining myself. Because I'm vain to want to keep those secrets to myself, in a very sick and pathetic attempt to paint myself a mysterious and dark aura. Because I'm so self-indulgent and selfish to want to share. Because I'm a coward to share my fears. Because I'm a hypocrite, trying so hard to fit in, to pretend that I'm not a freak, enough that I betray myself. But, most of all, because I myself never ever truly understand me. At times, I can be brooding and dark, but sometimes I'm just sad or happy (can't even make up my mind on that one) and confused.
I cannot make up my mind about myself. It could have been loads easier if I could either be Dr Jekyll only, or Mr Hyde only, but I can't. So who am I? Just like Dr. Jekyll, I thrived on my saint, yet also feed on my demons! Oh shoot it, now not only am I a hypocrite, a coward, and a vain, self-indulgent, selfish bitch, I'm contradictory too.
Sheryl and I am no two same person. In fact, we are vastly different. She love her literature; she love her Armand. She's proper, dark, brutal and honest. I? I couldn't even be bothered with Pride and Prejudice because young-uns like me couldn't understand a word they're saying, and I've enough pride to stay away from it altogether just because I don't like any reminding that I'm not good enough. I devour cheap flicks ocassionally because it's slightly entertaining to watch them screw each other up, but mostly because they help take my mind off the fact that I'm pretty screwed up myself (yea, no need to say, I'm pretty pathetic); read way too much action, adventure, and inspector-solving crimes because there're lots of good ones out there (unfortunately, my opinion's not to be trusted) or even if you're so unlucky to stumble across a really bad one, there's always the action and gory details to distract you, or you can just laugh at the writer's painful mistakes all the way through (sorry for being mean). And of course because I can always, almost understand them.
The point is, we are totally different individuals. Even reading through her words, had me trembling with desire and longing so strong for her dark and oh-so-alluring talent. I'm literally salivating. Like that Big Bad Wolf in her story, Red Riding Hood.
I want it, I want it so badly, that it hurts. But I am not her. And I will never be, just as I'd learnt so many times striving to be someone who I'm not. Because I'm a hypocrite.
And so...I'm a hypocrite. Now...who still wants to be my friend?

Wednesday 5 September 2012

Cyber bullying

Since I remembered, about people, about myself or just about anything in my life really, cyber bullying had and always will be a big thing in today's world.
And it's blown to the top at this moment (at least to me), with the recent news of Charlotte Dawson being sent to the hospital, after consistent attacks by cyber bullies. I've been very fortunate to have avoid these kinds of incidents so far, with really loving and supportive followers, and really want to thank them here today in appreciation.
Eventhough having escape the gruesome nightmares of cyber bullying, however I did have my fair share of bullying during my school years. However, I was again very fortunate to escape the gory details of physical abuse, but unfortunately the mental abuse isn't exactly a bed of roses either, and let's just say I'll leave the uncomfortable details for another time.
Long story short, I was very much aggravated by those incidents to the point that I had actually detest the quote, " Sticks and stones may hurt me, but words cannot."
Truth to be told, it isn't the poor guy's fault that he created a wrong quote, which wounded up me being abused (and of course it never happened that way; just my human psychology-likes to blame people).
It took me years before I  actually truly register what he was trying to convey through his infamous quote (let's face it, not many people is actually fond of that quote...according to my survey).
This world is cruel. There's always gonna be people who's out there going to break you every time, no matter what. In the end, it just depends on you to stand strong, and not get overwhelmed. In my case, yea, there's been lots of jeering and booing, but in the end, it's me that I listen too, and that 'me' happens to just listen to what everyone has to say. I made the decision to break myself. Taking Charlotte's case as an example, despite there has been harsh words asking her to (quoting) 'hang herself', it is her who in the end decides to (quoting again) 'hang herself' (and pardon the pun).
Allow me to provide some advice, after years of life experience (which could actually be heeded if I've not been so screwed up myself, haha):
1. There's a fine line between constructive criticism and destructive criticism. Or to put it in cyber terms, know how to differentiate between trolling and hate mails. Or brutal with malicious. These people don't know you. They are not your family. They have not been there, listening to your whining and keeping up with your demands 24/7, like your family do. So how can they criticise you when they don't know you? How can they be right when they don't even understand?
...which brings us to...
2. Be positive. You definitely know yourself better than they do right? So trust yourself. Listen to yourself. I know it's hard when there's so much negativity around you (trust me, no one knows better than I do; I've been there, done that), but you've to keep trying. Because it's your life that you're living. It's about you. If you don't even believe in yourself, who will? And I've done it lots of time to know that, in the end, it is me myself who have to pick myself up.
...and this brings us to...
3. Being around positive people. It's hard doing it alone. So? Do it with others, who support you the way you are. And the best place to start is with family. They are the ones who will be there, no matter what. And your best mates who will be there for you to catch you whenever you fall. And true, at times they may say something you don't like to hear, but hey, that's constructive criticism. And if you're too fragile to handle that just yet, tell them. Seriously, silence is the biggest killer of depressed people. So say something.
And finally, you can always come here. To this blog. Coz I'll love you just the way you are. :)

Tuesday 4 September 2012

Never give up?

Forgive me for not writing a post for so long. Sometimes we forget how much our articles can inspire people. Okay, perhaps I'm being a little bit much too vain here, but hey! You never know.
I'm just a little bit much too reflective at this moment, as (guess what I've been doing?!) I've been procastinating by reading articles and blog posts.
I stumbled upon a friend's articles. Not sure if I could call him a friend, but hey, I've met him face-to-facein a few participative events before, and that should count for a friendship? Yes, no? (Honestly, I am not scrambling to get acquainted right here just because I found out he's quite an achieved entrepreneur now....:P)
He had wrote some powerful articles which got me thinking. And blogging.
Eventhough, both our reasons for writing articles are entirely different, but our message is the same: We should keep going. We should keep doing what we love no matter what. We should not give up.
It is funny how easily and often I can keep forgetting why I started blogging in the first place.
Guess that's what made the difference between us.
He's gone on to become an entrepreneurwho had founded a new business venture slowly gaining popularity, and where am I now? Still stuck in my home, watching TV and growing fat.
And despite the fact that I might not inspired anyone, but I hope I inspired myself at least today.
So let's start writing / reaching for our dreams, peeps! Adios!