THIN

I'M THE BEFORE PICTURE!!!

...Well, alright, so maybe I'm not that fat.

But that's what makes it so difficult to get the 'After' picture.

Because I become too lenient with myself.

I want to lose weight.

People ask me why.


1. I want to look really good.
I don't know,
I get the feeling that it's easier to impress & get people to respect & like you
when you look good.
It sounds shallow, sadly,
but if I don't try then I'll never know.


2. I want to be able to wear whatever.
First off, almost all pretty clothes are in sizes Medium & smaller.
I'm a rough size M,
but if I can fit into size S,
oh my gosh.
Shopping!!! <3
I am limited to certain styles of clothing now,
because I have to accentuate this & tone down that blah blah,
but if I'm skinny enough,
then I will be able to look good
in whatever it is that I feel like throwing on
any day, any time.

3. I dislike being bigger than my mum.
She used to be my size but then came the Great Meltdown.
Now people always say that her daughter's
"Oh, so big already! Bigger than you!"
Aunty, I don't like you anymore.
I don't mind being taller than she is,
in fact that's awesome.
But bigger.
No.
I'm the teenager here.
You go be the proper middle-aged mother.
I wanna be the rebellious, stupid little teenager.
Little.

4. I want to see if I am disciplined enough.






















<3 How lovely.

I'm scared that God won't let me achieve that *points at lovely picture*
Because maybe, if I'm able to rock anything that I wear,
I might start wearing...
Clothes that are not proper.
It is very tempting.



I used to hate my breasts.
But now they can just stay put,
it's the rest of my body that I have problems with.

No more binge eating!
No more fried food!
No more carbohydrates!
No more ice cream!

This hurts T___T

No more cake!
No more dinners!


But I really really don't want to end up looking too thin.
I'd rather be chubby
than have my shoulder blades & ribs sticking out.


Nevertheless, I have to be careful not to cause myself to breakdown.
2011 is a year in which I must be healthy.



...

I wonder how long this will last.

Signed, Carmelia.


Feeling, motivated.
Thinking, I have failed so many times... All the more reasons to not fail this time!

Preparing

Recently, I keep thinking about writing letters for my beloveds in the event of my sudden death.




A new year's coming down on us soon, but it's alright. I'm not completely dry & warm right now so a cold wave won't shock me much. Sports Day, exams, school activities, projects, homework, society, youth.

Excited!

A cockroach's approaching my feet cautiously now. It looks undecided about where to go. Feel your way, roach! Feel! That's the laptop wire you're bumping into and DON'T COME NEAR MY FEET!!!...

It's gone now. Where to, I have no idea. I took my eyes off it. I hope I won't accidentally step on it later.

I was up rather early this morning. Doraemon (Sze Mun!) & Ming Li came over to bake goodies for a friend who is leaving Kota Kinabalu to further her studies.

A lot of people are leaving Kota Kinabalu recently to further their studies.

The butter cookies were very nice, except I might have paid more attention to their time inside the oven. Sorry, cookies, for letting you all tan :3

After they left at one, I took care of the fondant I made before my trip to Penang. That is, shaped them into ready-to-use, well, shapes, & stored them in a container. It really is one of the sweetest things I've ever tasted, which is saying something, because my appetite for sweets is above average. :D

I get very insecure sometimes, don't I? When I start thinking too much & zooming out from every situation to see a larger one. It's something I can't help but do. The good news it, I think I'm learning to control it.

Or maybe I'm not. Maybe shutting off my mind & calming down is becoming a habit. It's a good thing?

*It's a good thing! Not question mark.



*After minutes*

DOTA! I wanna try I wanna try now. Or maybe I shouldn't. Tomorrow morning I have to go catch insects. We'll see! :)

Signed, Carmelia.


Feeling, blissful.
Thinking, it's a journey of a thousand miles & I want to enjoy it.

Lukewarm

Title blank.

In Penang now with the family, snacking on grapes & cherries.

Just showered. Pa, mum & Jerry are sharing a bed. Sophia's sleeping on the extra bed in the living room. I'm sleeping on the sofa, because I expect to be up quite late & I don't want to wake anyone up.

I don't feel excited about anything yet. I don't expect to enjoy this vacation. I feel guilty & ungrateful. & I'll probably end up trying my best to be cheery & happy for my family's sake.

Penang's famous for the food. That is bad news for me, being on a diet. My problem is that I cannot find a balance. I either abstain from food totally, or indulge like a glutton. To really be moderate, my mood is often sacrificed.

Another thing about Penang is the night-life. Which I can forget about.

I don't know what made me change my mindset. Before this, I was scared- terrified, about turning twenty. I wanted to live in KK, to stay with my family & friends. I wanted to stay a teenager as long as I can & enjoy it.

Now, though. I find myself just wishing so hard that I were twenty one & living somewhere else, away from my family. I love them so much, but it makes me very uncomfortable to have to share a room with them, go everywhere with them- Especially my parents. I don't know, I just feel heavy inside. That is why I am expecting to not fully enjoy this vacation.

I guess it has something to do with the fact that I am suddenly yearning my independence. I can't help but draw a parallel between me & a wolf leaving it's pack. You might not be ready, the world outside might be & often is very cruel & harsh, & you might even get hurt or get killed, but the instinct is there.

I was such a good girl... But now I just feel like driving off late at nights & not coming home till dawn.

The things my c.o.r.e sisters said when I told them about my issues recently were very surprisingly. Not exactly reassuring, but I felt better because I knew they understood. Especially Kiren. She was the one who started crying during our conversation, not me. I know how difficult things have been for her, even more difficult than what I'm going through.

But I can't help but wonder if I'll end up going through worse than her.

Sonja immediately told me to be careful of living my mother's life for her. Tasha told me to fight for it, not by disobeying, but by trying to reason & making them see how important this is to me. Kiren warned me that whatever I said about being alright will be disproved once I do get to that stage. Kak Yee gave me some comforting words.

Sister Suk prayed for me today. & honestly, I was happy that she knew what my concerns were. Surprising, what she prayed for.

Mum's been very nice to me. Gave me RM100 to spend today. I don't plan to spend the money.

Sometimes I feel like the only thing keeping me from going wild is God. I dare not disobey Him, no, not outright, not blatantly so. I just cannot. Even though it's so difficult to be an obedient Christian, but I know being anything else by conscious choice is just stupid.

I'll get through this, sooner or later, so I tell people not to bother. They usually don't. The heartache comes & goes, my thoughts change every now & then, & I end up confusing myself.

Will ignoring situations cause them to sort themselves out?

Sometimes you have to take action, sometimes you don't. Which is what now?

I hate being so negatively emotional. I hate it. I want to be happy, to ignore bad thoughts, bad feelings, to trust in God & just do my part.

I will. I will. Carmelia, you will. Just shut up & do it.

Signed, Carmelia.


Feeling, happy.
Thinking, happy.

Leaving the title blank again.

I stayed up till three plus last night, reading my blog posts. The things I went through amazes me a little. Like the humiliating incident during the debate competition. I couldn't even bring myself to read my recount, so I can't imagine the level of embarrassment I must've felt at the time.

But I lived through it. And I remember, very clearly, that I even believed it to be a good thing, having something funny & incredulous to share with people. The worse the humiliation, the more entertaining the stories, I know.

Then there were cryptic posts. I couldn't make heads or tails of them, only that I was going through really depressing times. Romance related? But whoever were the guys/was the guy?

Ka Howe was one of them, probably. I don't remember being that pissed off at him, but apparently I was. Whatever for, I have no idea. I forget things too easily, a trait which is both a boon and a bane.

Have to sign off now. Instead of just saving this, I'm posting it up, untitled.

Signed, Carmelia.


Feeling, a little oppressed.
Thinking, go on.

Incompetent

Leaving the title blank again until I finish this post.

Things to do during the next 28 days before school reopens:

1. General Studies' Project.
;; Have to collect two Bahasa articles a day, starting from 19th November, one Science-orientated, one Social, & write fifty-word commentaries.

Completion: 0% (Or maybe, 1%, since I got most of the newspapers needed already.)

2. Biology Project (Green Connection)
;; Have to match up the names, kingdom, family, genus, species- of the creatures we took pictures of at Green Connection.

Completion: 0% (Or maybe 10%, since I have the pictures & the information needed already.)

3. Biology Project (Insects)
;; Have to catch about ten more insects, get formalin from teammates to preserve the insects with, & stick them up on a neat, big piece of foam board, which will be placed in a wooden box-thing, which I am in charge of getting.

4. Biology Project (Plants)
;; Have to find the names & families of the 25 plant samples taken in school, dry them up properly, sew them onto papers & create a neat file.

5. Chemistry Revision
;; Up to Chapter 10 now. So far, has failed the school examinations. I don't even want to think about reading ahead now when my basics are as solid as apple crumble.

6. Mathematics Revision
;; I just want to pass.

But God's amazing. I tend to do better than I expect.

7. Biology Revision
;; Plan to finish studying the first volume, in addition to the five chapters in volume two.

8. General Studies Revision
;; Plan to finish studying the entire Paper One volume.

I'm printing all that out & putting it somewhere I can see it easily.

I did not include baking, outings, room-deco, youth, weight, music, art, sports-related goals, not because I won't try to pursue them, but because they're only second place now.

I really want to pull out from my youth co-leader position. I don't press for it with the adults, because I know they'll be saying things like, I can do all things through Christ. I really do want to help, but not as a leader, I don't lead well. They'll tell me to learn, that this is a good experience. I'm not coping well, I suck. They'll say they'll pray for me. And if they really let me off, I'll feel awesomely bad for letting them down.

I've been thinking about sleeping over at Pastor & Sister Suk's for a few nights, just be with them, sort myself out, get myself together, stay away from the worldly filth that I'm so attracted to. But I know they're really busy. And I don't want to draw attention to whatever problems I might be having unless I'm sure I'll be getting help.

Sometimes, we don't care what others think. Sometimes, we care too much. Some people do too much of the first, some people, the latter. I'm trying to find the balance between the two. Care, but not let it get to me too much. To make everything as beneficial & constructive as possible. It's difficult.

I love my mum. She's nice. & when she's happy & fun, her company is so, so enjoyable. But more often than not, she isn't. When I try to be nice & happy, she usually doesn't give any responses at all. Maybe even bite back a few times, & once it really hurt. I don't know where all that bitterness is coming from. Her children? She says that, sometimes. She's a slave at home, we're all just pigs, we never help. I'm sorry if your children have brought you nothing but misery, mum. Especially me. I'm sorry if I've disappointed you. I'll be gone after a year or so, don't worry. Meanwhile, I'm trying my best to not let your bitterness affect me negatively. It's good in that it teaches me patience, so much patience & meekness, so when I meet nasty people out there, I actually think they're quite alright. But I become bitter as well, sometimes, and often I find myself staring at my Facebook profile page, trying to think up words ugly enough to reflect what I feel inside. Then deleting & not posting them because I don't want that kind of an image, a moody girl who can't keep her feelings to herself. Also, you're making me scared of adults, particularly those who seem to be as strict as you are. You made me replace them with an image of you, of what you'd say or do if I tried to get close. I don't want to blame you, mum. But every time I have to grit my teeth and control myself from slamming the door, I feel the ugly, chaffed, tough spots on my heart. Not strong enough to withstand heartaches, but not soft enough to be innocently sincere.

Wow. I wonder what I'll be thinking when I come back here, in the future. In mere minutes, I felt like I was changing from one person to another. I think there were around three transitions. Moody, depressed, angry, bitter, resentful, alright, blessed-

No time for me to think further. Mum wants me off now.

Signed, Carmelia.


Feeling, stupid.
Thinking, I'm unworthy.

Something.

I've left the title blank for now. Maybe I'll put something in after I'm finished with this post. Maybe not. This isn't the best time for me to be blogging. Mum usually expects action now, like showers, dinner, and chores. I wanted to go jogging, but turned back midway because the skies were way too gray, despite it only being 5.30pm. Or maybe, I was feeling too gray.

Sophia and I watched the last two episodes of a drama series last night. Endings are the most special parts of a journey to me, but only if there has been a long, tedious stretch of something in front, bursting with incidents, emotions, words, meanings... The short moments of pensiveness I go through when I'm near the end of a novel are usually summed up with words along the lines of, all the things they've been through, to get here.

To get to somewhere.

2010 is the most eventful amongst the seventeen years that I've been through. Incidents usually get littered about in my life, important & influential, but never as blotchy and prominent as certain events were this year.

Or maybe, as your grow older, incidents will become objectively bigger, in comparison not with your own experiences, but with what the world thinks is huge. A major crush in Form One will seem like everything to the poor girl, and perhaps getting married is no big deal to that man, but throw the two events out into the world and I'm guessing the marriage will be deemed more worthy of attention.

Back in Form One, I was buying new clothes and doing up my hair and planning weeks before, before going to a school concert that I didn't watch more than half of. Now, I get my dress ready a few hours before, and go all impromptu as emcee for a posh Sixth Form promenade. I'm a big girl!

Well, I'm not, but I couldn't help but say that. Eighteen is such a lovely age to me, a bottle-neck where responsibilities start gushing in, but you're still young enough to be a teenager.

I'm already eighteen. Being able to enter that club by just flashing my IC- Well, not really. The bouncer decided to mess with me, and then the other bouncer at the back door also messed with me after that, by telling me that I couldn't go in. Why? Because I wasn't born in 1991. Being me, of course, I just felt all dazed up until the man laughed and patted my shoulder. "Masuk lah."

The day I turned eighteen, I felt as though a protective shield had just melted off me. Exposed is a word I'd use, in relation to the temptations of the world, but more to my own weaknesses and desires. I can drink, drive, smoke, work, go clubbing, get married, do an o.n.s, and they'll all be legal. The adults can only scold, lecture, disown me- But I can. It's not that I may, anymore. I can. I won't get thrown into jail, they can't have the police on me or lock me up.

And the older I get, the less scary the prospect of leaving my parents will be. So what can stop me from going crazy?

At that point, there's usually this mental image of me looking out into the future at someone else, only that person's still me. A Godless girl, doing whatever she wants, and only being disciplined for things that will cool her up. Writing, maybe, and getting involved in worldly music scenes. Learn to dance and devote herself to it. Still being nice by doing community work, being loyal to friends, sending money home. Have a boyfriend and love him with all her heart. Get a motorcycle. Become borderline anorexic. Go all Gothic, pierce her lips, but not tattooing anything because that ain't cool. Write some more.

Oh Lord. That's such a picture to paint. It won't sound bad at all to many out there, but that's because they don't know, the most important word amongst all that is Godless. I can't. I won't. I don't know if I'm deceiving myself or trying to sound all holy and great, but I do believe that the sad feeling inside when I think about how it'd be if I forsake Jesus is because I love Him. The feeling rarely grows, because I'd stop imagining things and start thinking about what I can do to not break His heart now.

I have not been through a lot. I think I'm glad I haven't, because being the stupid girl I was (am), I would've made so many mistakes. I haven't. I can't really think of anything that I regret now. It worries me, because some of them are sins, and if I don't regret sins then I don't think God would have forgiven me, would He? I don't regret them because I learn from them, I become better, stronger, wiser. They fill up my life, I'm not just a perfect little dolly who won't be able to be honest when she tells people that she knows what they're going through. Is that wrong, God? I'm just sad that they broke His heart, those sins. But I don't regret them. Is that wrong? Or maybe regret isn't the appropriate term to use.

That time I was walking back from the hill, and my abdomen hurt so, so much, all I could think of was every step I have taken. People tell us to look ahead in times of pain, to focus on the goal and the sunlight. But I didn't then, I was pushing on by telling myself, you know what, you've already come so far. So far. One more step, and that's one more painful step you're leaving behind. The distance you've overcome is awesome.

Perhaps that's why I place so much importance on the time it'll take for a friendship to blossom into romance. The longer it is, the better. The more storms would have been weathered, the deeper the commitment, the murkier the line between romance and love.

No. It isn't better because the time taken is longer, expanded over months and years. I think I know that now. Because I've known people for ages and the strength of the friendships I share with them is barely a tenth of the friendship I share with certain characters I've met mere months ago. The quantity of the time spent together is really nothing compared to the quality, yeah?

I might prove myself wrong, again, but that's what I think for now.

Back then, maybe because I was inexperienced, maybe because I'd jumped into things so fast I immediately knew something was wrong and was choking myself to death trying to resurface as quickly as possible, I told myself that two years would be the prerequisite for any romance to be acceptable in a friendship. Two years, a long enough time for enough storms to be weathered. Maybe four or five good, solid chapters, before the main characters finally get together. I do love endings that come after tedious, beautifully stuffed journeys. In every story plot I've penned, the boy only gets the girl after everything's done. I don't remember any one time where I've let the hero & heroine become an item before the fifth chapter.

Funny. If there's anyone who can frustrate me and make me dizzy with confusion, it's myself.

Mum comes in close as first runner-up. That lady is seriously driving me nuts.

Everything that has happened.


Signed, Carmelia.


Feeling, melancholic.
Thinking, journey ahead looks like an adventure, darling! It's going to be alright.

Lyric

Unstable

Well, I don't claim to be ultimately selfless.

As objectively as possible, I try to figure out, why I react the way I react to certain situations. I try to because sometimes, my reactions bring about immediate results that I am not happy about. So to avoid getting those immediate results the next time a similar situation arises, I will have to react in a different manner. To react differently, I will have to know why I react thus, so I can consciously control the way I respond.

-I don't think I can control the way I react, not unless it's through gradual conformation. You can't control the sudden surge of unhappiness, or anger, or joy in your heart when something happens. But you can control the way you respond, if you are conscious of it.

So I'd been burned before. There are a few times when I'd cared so much about people that I messed myself up.

-I do know the difference between caring about people, and caring about what people think about me. Both causes me to be a nice human being, the only difference is that for the first, you're definitely nice inside, the variable's the outside niceness. For the second, you're definitely nice outside, but the niceness inside is questionable.

My thinking-too-much pattern concerning this goes a little like...:

I want that person to be happy. What can I do to make that person happy? Will it be enough? Or will it make things worse? What if that person becomes happy, but only for a short while? What if what I do causes long term harm? How would I know what is truly good and truly bad? What if what I see as harm is actually good? I am thinking too much; I'm not God. Maybe I should just let go. But then it'll seem as though I don't care. People won't like knowing that others don't care about them. That won't be a good thing. But if I hang on too much, people won't like it either. Where's the balance?

Where is the balance, for crying out loud.

-I feel so pathetic at times, and reaching a threshold, so that I don't descend into absolute misery, my mentality does a rebound and I find myself being, in short, narcissistic. This doesn't take long to fizzle out, and around here, when I'm blessed enough, I reach a state of equilibrium. This doesn't take long to fizzle out either. Something happens, someone says something, or doesn't say something, or maybe just a weird chemical imbalance inside the brain, and I'm back to the adjective pathetic.

I pride myself, or perhaps I used to, on being able to let go.

If you ask me if I need you, the answer is, no. You can walk out of my life tomorrow, find someone new and my life would go on. I won’t die without you. But if you’re asking if I want you to be a part of my life, the answer is, yes. I can’t even deny it.

(via sierraa)

Let go, life goes on, life happens, keep hold on, move forwards, we all know the drill. A very useful drill, especially in keeping us alive, literally.

-And I think I'd been drilled to death. I didn't have it bad, but I didn't have it too good either, back in the days. My memory of myself when I was a kid consists largely of lonely wanderings. I never resented this, but being alone for too long makes you lose touch, y'know? Makes you behave inappropriately when you actually have to start interacting with other human beings. I had been a hermit enough to make many mistakes when dealing with people, but not isolated enough to be unaffected.

Who likes being unhappy? Naturally, I allowed myself to be drilled into staying happy. Miseries incubate, hatch and thanks to inspiring songs, happy messages, food and love, these things die pretty soon after. At least, some of them do; I suspect that some are still lurking about in there.

And so I am, or I think I am, this girl who has the amazing ability to let regrets, grudges and unhappiness slide off her back. The side-effects are that I tend to forget things too easily, and also I have been accused of being unconcerned about things.

Not to mention the emotional stress I get as a by-product of compressing every slab of negativity into practically nothingness. These processes are extremely tiring. I won't be able to get through them by my willpower alone (God knows how weak this girl's willpower is). I get through them because I believe I have to, much like a defense mechanism. When someone slaps you, your eyes automatically shuts. I have to make conscious efforts, but in a sense these efforts are automatic because I don't know where else I can go to avoid spiraling downwards to stupidity and doom.




xxx

I feel like I'm dramatizing everything. A moment ago it felt so real, and now I'm thinking, what a drama queen. See this? See how unpredictable, unreliable I am? I don't trust myself, I barely do. So I have to let go, or I know I'll crash. I don't even know for sure if I'll crash if I don't let things go, that's how ridiculously insecure I am.

I'd crashed four times this year. I simply did not have the strength to overcome myself. And part of the blame I thrust on music. I shouldn't have allowed myself to listen too much to that. It lifts spirits, it breaks them too.



So far, what I see above are lines of uncertainty, contradiction, justification. I dislike myself so much right now. I don't know.

I don't know. I really don't. What don't I know? Too many things. So maybe, instead, I should be asking, what do I really, truly know?

I know God loves me.

That's about it.

Scenarios run through my head. Not a lot; they can't, remember what kind of a girl I am? I throw them out quickly, but they come back again and again, I know. Bad scenarios.

Scenarios that make me remind myself, hey, you're a strong girl, remember? If that happens, you'll get through it. You have God. You'll be able to treasure & at the same time, release. Sure, it'll hurt like hell for the first few days, but time heals, God heals, you'll be alright.

The thing is, you can apply principles you're used to and put into practice the drills you'd went through only on situations that are similar. A seasoned firefighter would still be utterly lost in the battlefield; fighting fires are dissimilar to flying bullets and sentient enemies. Train a thousand times at something and be perfect at it; it still might be useless in a different setting.

So, again, I don't know how I'd react or respond if certain things get flung my way. Life would go on? I wouldn't die? Statements like those are magnets for irony.

A sudden burst of... something positive, just calmed me down. Time to do that compression thingy, Carmelia. Stop overthinking, for heaven's sake, this is complicated enough.

Gladly. It's nice to get direct commands when all suggestions are going in stupid different directions.




Signed, Carmelia.


Feeling, tired.
Thinking, everything will be fine.

Independence

Independent is one word my parents would never use to describe me. I have a messy room, I forget things like locking the grill doors & switching off the lights, I misplace important documents & wallets. Therefore, I am not independent.

***

Back in primary school, back when girls needed an entire parade with them to visit the loo, I was pretty independent. Or at least I am in my own mind. I did not think so at the time, but after I met Melissa and Pearl, and we became best friends, I realized how different the life I used to live was from the life after I made best friends.

I didn't know that you were supposed to get a girlfriend to be with you wherever and whenever. I didn't know that standing alone, waiting for your transport, while your friends are only a few feet away, means you're a loner. I didn't understand why you must have a friend with you before you join a club or society.

We had a camp in school. I ended up in the same group as Pearl, but I don't remember actually spending a lot of time with her much. She stuck by me, but most of the time she was talking to some of the other members of the group, including the group leader, who was a popular girl from another class. Otherwise, when translocating, she'd be right beside me. But I don't remember a lot of talking. Perhaps it was because I kept quiet.

At night, while the other girls were worrying about who they were going to wake to accompany them to the loo in the middle of the night, I was already setting up my sleeping bag. I remember enjoying their conversations, because I felt superior, not being afraid of the dark and of being alone. They soon found out that I wasn't scared at all, so instead of struggling to figure out the chain reactions (they're rather strange. if this girl goes, then this other girl must go, but then that girl will have to go too for goodness knows why, & there was a limit on the number of girls per loo-visit group), they started asking my permission to wake me up.

It has been many, many times, people asking me what I am doing alone. I can go to the movies alone, wander about town alone, study alone, stay back at school alone, play basketball alone. If I can play badminton alone, I would.

It's not so much that I am so capable, I can be alone, than the fact that I like being alone. I don't need a companion in most of the things I do- scratch that. I don't feel like I need. Perhaps spending my childhood days alone in school, being alone in crowds, conditioned me to feel very comfortable when no one is with me. Maybe it's because, when no one is with me, then I don't have to answer to anyone. I can do my own thing.

And when I get so accustomed to doing my own thing, I seclude myself from the other things around me. So I don't learn. When I am forced to step out, I fumble. Therefore it seems as though I am horribly incapable. I can't cross the road properly, I can't make the right decisions, I can't buy the right things at the right price, I am naive & trust strangers too easily, I fail at frying nuggets, I don't know how to manage my time.

So certain people, seeing all that, limit me to protect me. They don't want me to get hurt. They show me how to do this, they tell me what to do. They set boundaries. They scold me and again, tell me what to do. In fact, they tell me that they are sick of having to tell me what to do over and over again.

The thing is, I didn't ask them to.

I argue with myself. Hey, if they don't do all that, you might end up in very, very bad situations. They love you. That's why they do all that, even though you say you need your own space to learn, to think for yourself, to figure out what's right and what's wrong for yourself. By the time you figure things out, you might already have made some very bad, irreversible decisions.

They'd rather you live a mediocre, but safe life, than let you try to get a more wonderful, exciting, fuller life by risking your everything.

***

I suppose my parents are doing a pretty good job. They trust me, but to a certain extent. I am thankful for that. A lot of the rules they'd set unconsciously are negligible, and I know better than to push it. Or at least, I knew.

Recently I'd been asking my parents to let me take up this part-time job, teaching at a home tuition center nearby. Mum isn't very happy about the whole thing. She keeps on about why I want to quit my prefect duties, and at the same time, take up another commitment. On, and on. Not saying no, but making it very clear that she doesn't want to say yes at the same time. Finally, just now, she lashed out, "So you think you're very independent already lah?"

I think it's an issue for the both of my rents, my independence, ever since I got my P license. They don't talk about it, not in front of me and not with me, but I can feel it. Dad is being more lenient with my outings, bedtimes and curfews, but his short lectures are becoming more frequent as well. Mum, on the other hand, lets dad make most of the decisions, but lets out her worry and concern by nagging and putting me down.

"Why can't I go?"

"Why must you go, hah?"

"I really don't get it, it's an event, on a Saturday."

"You have to teach at 12, then go straight at 4, then come home at 8? You're wasting the whole day away! I thought you resigned as a prefect because you wanted to focus on your studies? What are you doing now?"

"I already told you, I canceled my classes for this Saturday! I'm only going out at 4, then coming back at 8!"

"...Why must you go? Hah?"

I felt like cursing right then. "Why must I go? I don't have to go, but I want to!"

"Oh, so now it's because you WANT to."

Of course because I WANT to, it's not a responsibility, it's because I WANT to, for fun, for myself. She can't think of a reason to say no, because the only reason she doesn't want me going out, she doesn't want to tell me; she'll make herself sound as biased as she really is. She'd let slip a few times, so I know.

The more I think about it, the more it makes sense that they don't trust me, because I don't even trust myself.

Oasis

Something opposite of a tiring stretch of something else.

A drink of water in the midst of thirst.

A smile cracked in the midst of gloom.

A ray of sunshine on a rainy day.

A text message in the middle of the night.

A weekend night out after examinations.

A gathering of youths to strengthen fellowship in Christ.


I find oases all the time, in my life. A sudden relief of a situation that I'd been stuck in for quite some time. I thank God for them, for they are like stepping stones; they keep me going forward. There are times when I am stuck, and perhaps sometimes, I slip. But so far, so good, I'm still moving on.

I find myself needing to take breaks from things I thought I'd never be tired of. Last time, it was an obsession with RPGs. Then, the need to always be tasting something spicy and sour. Facebook's another thing I thought I'd always be addicted to, but every time I set my abstinence, I don't find it difficult at all not to go online. There are other more important examples that I have, but I don't wish to share them here.

It's something people sometimes call a 'breather'. We all tend to desire for breathers from all sorts of things. I do. But there is specifically one thing I don't want ever to want to take a break from.

Dynamics. Always changing. Humans are. People are. I know how much some of us hate it when friends change. It hurts even worse when they were the most precious people in your life, once upon a time. It's like losing a treasure. Or maybe, it's like treasure being damaged so much, it no longer holds any value.

I thank God that He never changes. He loves us, He's always there, His Word never fades. I will never need an oasis in the middle of God, and God help me not to ever want one. Because God Himself is my oasis from all things.

God, is Love.

Signed, Carmelia.


Feeling, neutral.
Thinking, I want to be as consistent as I can be.

This Isn't The Best Day Ever

"Putting on your best act isn't so difficult when you know you'll get recognition for it. It's when you know your best will be so superb, no one will ever know, that makes it so difficult."

Signed, Carmelia.


Feeling, disastrous.
Thinking, burning down.

Not As Happy

It's 6.06PM.

I heard a story about a pastor who would always start church service by thanking God for all things. He never ran out of things to thank God for. He was always optimistic, sometimes unbearably so.
So one day, a terrible, terrible storm, heavy rain raged on. Inside the church building, the congregation waited to see what the pastor would say about the weather. Surely, nothing good. The pastor finally spoke.
"Thank you, oh Lord, that weathers such as this do not happen often."




This day, this week didn't start out swell. I woke up with nasty lumps in my throat, thanks to the vomit episode yesterday. Got downstairs to be greeted by a moody mother. Sophia was sick, so she did not attend school.

I was rushing to get to school as early as possible, so that I could go look for my wallet. My IC, driver's license, and RM40+ were in there. I'd realized it was missing last Friday and knew I lost it the same day because I'd always checked to see if I had my wallet with me whenever I drove. I wasn't feeling my best on Friday, which might explain how on earth I forgot about my wallet.

Jerry never really cooperates whenever I want to get to school early. He didn't this morning. I got down, lugged the monster backpack with me to the Chemistry laboratory and started the search.

But, to no avail.

Classes were alright. Come recess, and mum handed me my wallet. Everything, minus my receipts and the cash, was intact. A teacher found it on my desk. I thank God for whoever it is that had the sense to return the wallet and everything inside, even if they did take part of the class fund, which I now have to pay back with the RM100 I earned cleaning up my room.

Everything went alright. I even had fun during Pengajian Am, which was a first. Cikgu Azmi tended to call on me to speak. The attention, I really enjoyed, especially when I actually did have ideas and opinions to share.

Before school was over, I found myself with two new posts. Secretary of the committee for the annual Prefects Farewell Ceremony, and AJK for the backdrop of the Chinese Language Society's upcoming Mooncake Festival.

After spending colloquium planning out Wednesday's English Language Society game, mum drove me home. I'd planned to drive downtown to get some things for my class. Goes to show I should never put too much hope in what I plan to do. Mum didn't say no, but she did not say yes either. She didn't tell me straight why I couldn't, or what I could do so that I can. Basically, she didn't help me solve my problem.

So I asked to send Jerry to Central for his drum lessons, because I really missed driving and I needed to unwind. But no.

And only later, after I'd unconsciously accused my mum of not wanting to let me drive, did she inform me that she wanted to send Jerry because she had some other errands to run. Why couldn't she have told me that earlier? But forget it. I just kept my mouth shut.

In the end, she got fed up and abandoned everything. So I had to drive, just as I was starting on my Mathematics. Fine. I didn't make a big fuss out of it, because honestly, I was glad I could drive. But I was not happy.

I wandered around Central, waiting for Jerry to finish his lesson. And when it was time to go, the Avanza wouldn't start. What a sight I was, a girl running around the car, looking under the hood and fiddling with the engine, a cellphone attached to her ear.

Long story short, I got home and went straight to the computer.

Reading what I'd typed out so far, I can't see why today was so bad. Everything was fine. I got my wallet back. Squabbles with mum were normal. So what if the car broke down? People were friendly to me today. None of the teachers scolded me for anything. I didn't break anything.

Now mum is telling me to drop the two posts I got today. I don't even want to respond. If she wants me to drop them, I'll drop them. The burdens of duties and tasks I can handle; emotional burdens simply crush me.

God's will.

Someone went out of their way to pick me up for bible study yesterday night, and I'm glad. The topic shared impacted me a lot. Not an explosive impact that'd die down sooner or later, but rather something that I want to allow to sink into me.

There are three 'wills' of God, basically. God's Providential Will, God's Moral Will, and God's Personal Will.

God's Providential Will concerns things that are going to happen. These are things that are already given in the bible. Fullstop. For example, there's no questioning that Jesus is going to come back. There's no questioning that there is heaven and hell.

God's Moral Will includes things such as the ten commandments. For example, do not commit murder. You don't have to pray and ask God if it's His will that you murder someone tonight to get cash to save this dying pastor. It's already clear, in the bible.

Finally, but not least, God's Personal Will. The one I want to know about the most. Search and look all you want, you won't find specifics in the bible for your individual life. Things such as, where I'm going to live, what subjects I should be taking, who I should get married to, etc.

Jinho got us thinking. Not that I haven't already over thought about this, but again, I thought. What can we do to find out what God's personal will for us is? Why do we want to know anyway?

"Because we know God's plan is the best plan."

I don't want to, as Jinho put it, sit down one day when I'm 45 years old, and wonder where my life went to.

"Study hard, play hard, then study study study study study, cram, EXAM. Next up, college, play hard, active, study, study, study, study, study, cram, EXAM! Next up... And then get a job. After getting a job, work hard at getting promotions. Then get a new car, nice house. And then plan marriage, get married, and then next, focus on the children.............."

It's all fine, going to church and getting involved in church activities. But.

Right before Jinho started sharing, he borrowed Joshua's iPod and proposed to put it under one of the table's legs to stabilize it. Joshua was, of course, more than unwilling.

Jinho showed us how a life that is lived without its purpose being fulfilled is like an iPod being used to stabilize a table.

Something so precious, able to do so much more,
wasted on something so comparatively trivial.

Will putting the iPod under the table's leg be useful? To a certain degree, yes, the table will not be wobbly anymore. But at what cost?

Back to the question. What can we do to find out? The obvious answers: Pray. Read the bible. Pray. Pray somemore.

But that doesn't seem to be working. It's not clear enough. We don't hear the audible voice of God on a daily basis. Sometimes never.

So, Jinho led us to something that I'd been figuring out for a long time:

If you want to know what God's Personal Will for you is, then you'll have to make it a point to know as much as you can about God's Providential and Moral Will.

Why?

Because if you are truly sincere in doing God's will, you'll want to know and do all three. Not just God's Personal Will for you, but also God's Providential and Moral Will. If you don't care about the first two, then it's very unlikely you'll find out about the third.

Jeremiah 6:10

"To whom can I speak and give warning?
Who will listen to me?
Their ears are closed, so that they cannot hear.
The word of the Lord is offensive to them;
they find no pleasure in it."

That was when we mentioned Lady Gaga. Jinho didn't bash her up verbally, in fact, he was quite loose about it. But he did make a few points. When people start to fill up their minds with oh-la-la instead of the word of God, guess what's going to distract them from listening when God speaks to them?

So, to find out about God's Providential Will and Moral Will, we read the bible. Consistently. With an open heart. We pray about it. We apply what we learn. We ask the elders in church. Go for bible study. The better we know God's Providential and Moral Will, the more sensitive we will be towards God's voice in our lives concerning the specific decisions we make.

Amen.



"Dear friends, I urge you, as aliens and strangers in the world, to abstain from sinful desires, which war against your soul." 1 Peter 2:11

"If you were of the world, the world would love his own; but because you are not of the world, but I have chosen you out of the world, therefore the world hates you." John 15:19



Signed, Carmelia.


Feeling, tired.
Thinking, it's okay to be lame, it's okay to be too much, it's okay that they talk.

Plan your work, work your plan. Good try.

This is my 'get-it-done' list, from //LIVE*


Planning to:

1. Get my very own camera. Check.

2. Get my very own laptop. Check.

3. Pass Piano Practical Grade 7. We'll see, won't we?

4. Finish writing a novel. Forget about this until after STPM.

5. Get my novel published. Ditto.

6. Watch the complete set of Ouran Host Club. Check.

7. Cook curry.

8. Bake cookies on my own.

9. Visit Cheshire Home.

10. Lose ten kilograms. This is so difficult. I can go days without food, but people around me will get all uptight and over worry. Eat a little this, eat a little that. I eat a little, it triggers serious hunger pangs. We'll see.

11. Go on vacation with friends. I wish.

12. Stay and have fun in a posh hotel with friends. Check.

13. Take picture with a mime artist.

14. Post first ever v-log.

15. Make a cloth doll.

16. Play an electric guitar. Working on it. It's taking me a long time to be able to play the acoustic smoothly, but I'm progressing.

17. Bring Bunny for a dry-clean session. How can pink turn into gray? Sigh.

18. Straighten front teeth. Now that I think about it, my teeth's straight. Sorta. Just not properly in front.

19. Get paid for a published article or story.

20. Write my very own blog layout html code.

21. Compose and write a song. I did this before. Posted the lyrics on one of my blogs. I'd forgotten about it and it isn't a song I can claim I finished writing.

22. Visit Korea. Just so.

23. Visit Ireland.

24. Design & paint/wallpaper a room.

25. Get 99 roses.

26. Obtain two rabbits.

27. Sing & dedicate the song 'Smile' by Uncle Kracker to a loved one.


The best laid plans of mice and men often go astray.

I find myself giving much attention to the word 'often'. I agree that the best laid of plans can still go astray, but often? Do they? Even if someone does a huge research and survey on this, we'll never know.

Something someone wrote in their blog sometimes get stuck in my head. Something about how people simply throws everything into God's hand and do nothing. That's one extreme. The other's trying to plan everything so that life goes entirely your way.

Is it possible to totally surrender oneself to God, and still be able to plan and make the best effort to work that plan?

I'd planned several things that totally didn't happen. And I was able to let them go very easily. Too easily, maybe. My inclination towards that first extreme threatens to burden me with guilt sometimes. "I don't do enough. Where's the effort?"

The most obvious thing to do, when I can't find that balance, is to do what the Lord so obviously commands me to do. Why bother so much about plans that seem so complicated and neutral when I can't even properly obey the most straight-forward of commandments in the Bible?

I have to go now. Mum's going berserk again. So much for me planning to finish a proper blog post today. =)


Signed, Carmelia.


Feeling, alright.
Thinking, que sera sera, but take your steps forward anyway.

Just Do It

"You have to study."

"You're still too young."

"Getting too involved is not good."

"If it's right, it'll happen even years after this."




It amazes me how much they talked. At the time listening, all I could do was nod and smile, which probably made me trick myself into thinking that I was getting a lot of wisdom from these people.

Thinking back now, that wisdom is basically the above four statements. Things that I already know.

Of all the teenagers in the city, of all the naive, foolish little girls roaming about Kota Kinabalu, I'd think I was amongst the more matured ones. 'Matured' in this context is not necessarily a good thing. I mean 'matured' as in having conformed to the mentality of the adults around us.

And no one can say it's because I've never been through anything.

Part of what I thought I learnt, I learnt from watching my best friends go through heaven and hell. Another part I learnt from stories adults tell. Another part was common sense. Another part was experience.

I'm wondering, what did I learn? A load of negative perceptions that many would disagree with.

And then, all of a sudden... And then.




What simply frustrates me to tears is how people think I don't want to take their advice and act. I'm trying to.

But they're giving me instructions through a walkie-talkie, when they've never seen the bomb, hoity-toity, and I'm the one handling the situation. DO THIS! They scream. My hands shake. My judgment tells me better. But before I can think further, they shout again. DO THIS, I COMMAND YOU. WE HAVE EXPERIENCE.

*censored* you, your experience won't save me if the bomb blows up in my face.




Morbid and cold. Rare few have suffered that worst side of me. And while it certainly brought about retribution, while the worst itself existed, nothing could hurt me. I can still remember how it felt. A cold hatred burning inside me that simply destroyed anything that came near. Poor guy. He never knew what happened.

That's simply a sin. I can't do that again, I won't. Stop trying to drag it out. For how extremely sensitive I can be, imagine how extreme I can go to the other end. God help me.




Instead, I shall make like a rag-doll. Easily overlooked, thrown about, abandoned, dirtied. Nevertheless, just as easily picked up, hugged and washed. And if I get stomped on, the damage is minimal.

Falling was not much of a choice. It still isn't.









I like your passion for Christ. I like how honest you are. I like how you can handle me. I like how your emotional strength steps in at the most emergent of times. I like how you understand people. I like your laugh. I like the way you go for what you want to do. I like your height. I like how interchangeable your recklessness and your cautiousness are. I like your social ability. I like your sense of fashion. I like your command of English. I like how strict you can be. I like your intelligence. I like your adorable little tantrums. I like how sensitive you can be. I like your uncertainty. I like your hair. I like how you keep annoying me by making me squirm. I like that you keep forgiving me for forgetting. I like that you're so human. I like your hugs. I like how immature you can act. I like your random randomness. I like that you have best friends. I like how you view your past. I like how you know things. I like that you like pink. I like that you accept so many of my flaws. I like that you sing. I like how you play the piano. I like how nice you are to people. I like your playfulness. I like your company. I like the sincerity in the compliments you give. I like how you can still blush. I like that you love families. I like how you remember.

Like? Love. Yeah, basically, you.




I'm still trembling. Too many wires. I don't see a timer but they claim that there is. I don't trust them. I don't trust myself either, so now what? What's at stake?

CUT DOWN CONTACT, NOW!







Signed, Carmelia.


Feeling, unstable.
Thinking, cutting.

Piano Examination Grade 7

Location: Imperial (Warisan Square)
Time: 10:10am
Event: ABRSM Piano Examinations


I woke up at 7, even though I'd set my alarm to go off at 6. Again, I am reminded that my alarm clock is seriously not capable of waking me up. I need to get a proper alarm that can wake up the living dead.

Started practicing, and by the time Sophia came downstairs groggily, I'd have practiced for an hour. Freaked out a bit, laughing and yelling. Finally, we're off.

The waiting room was in room 830, and the examination room was a couple of doors away. You may not stay in the area to listen to what was going on in there. Not that I wanted to. Walking past those few times, I'd heard really good scale playing and that intimidated me.

And when I'm intimidated, I'm scared. And when I'm scared?

Nothing happens in particular. I just don't like being scared, okay? I need security.

While waiting (I had to wait for half an hour) the steward asked me how old I was. I said, seventeen going on eighteen.

"Wow, Grade Seven already? So young? Very clever."

Erm. Right. Thank goodness they can't listen in on what happens in the examination room. Or know whether I'd actually pass. If I don't, I'm only Grade 4. At any rate, I have friends who'd achieved Grade 8 way before they were seventeen.

By then I was already going all giggly and walking about. I had to visit the washroom like, four times. Been drinking water like a fish since last night.

And the blah, and the blah, and the finally it was my turn. I went in.

Basically, I messed up the scales. Scales is a huge section, with a lot of sub-sections. Teacher Tiong always drilled me by going down systematically, so I was totally caught off-guard when Mr. Timothy (my examiner, nice, warm, booming Englishman) started calling out keys at random.

Before I started, I always had to digest what it was that he'd said for ten seconds, before my fingers actually went for it. Very slow. That can't be good.

He'd called for an E flat melodic minor, and I gave him a harmonic. After that, he was telling me nicely, "That wasn't a melodic minor, was it?"

"Oh. OH no. Should I repeat it, sir?"

Apparently, it's okay, I don't have to repeat it. What he didn't say was why. Because the damage is done, sistah.

AND one of the scales he asked for only the left hand. WTHECK? I had to ask him, "Erm, left hand only, sir?"

My first piece I did... alright. The dynamics (change of loudness) weren't very clear. The keys were stiffer than I was used to, and as everyone knows (if you didn't know, now you do) my fingers are weak. Fumbling at a few spots, especially the fast trills.

The second piece, I did better than I expected. This was a difficult piece for me. The second piece have always posed a problem for me because the second piece usually requires more technical skills. But I did well. Apart from some fumbling, and again, murky dynamics, it was alright. For my Grade 4 examination, I had to repeat the whole thing because I got stuck midway and can't go on.

The third piece is my favorite. Or was. There's a glissando at the end (You drag your palm or fingers across the keyboard and it HURTS). I managed to pull it off. Barely.

Next, sight reading. Ahhh. Mmmm. The piece I got wasn't the easiest for me, because it had flats. I prefer sharps to flats. I prefer nothing to sharps. And it started off with staccatos. I don't like staccatos in my sight-reading pieces because that means I can drraaaaaaagggggg the notes to cover up my having to count what the next note is. But it was alright. Very, very slow, and some wrong notes in the middle, but alright. Mr. Timothy told me to stop in the middle. That's normal. For me. My sight-reading had always... Been... Less than satisfactory.

Aural. For my past four practicals, I'd gotten 17, 18 marks out of 18 for the Aural Awareness section. Pretty good.

This time, I'll be amazed to get a 13.

Singing I thought I did good, but how good could I have done when Mr. Timothy actually had to look me in the eyes, and told me he'll repeat it a third time for me to try?

Sight-singing went better than I expected, but that's because I got a relatively easy piece. NO sharps, NO flats, chord's a basic C major and the time signature's a four/four. For those who don't know what all that means, basically it means answering mere ABCs when you'd expected to have to write essays. So I started off really well, correct timing, correct pitching... AND THEN it had to go all the way UP to the next octave and... I lost track of the pitches. So I did what I thought I had to do. Let my voice shoot out randomly with any pitching it can reach.

Modulation sucked. I had no idea what he wanted me to say after he'd played the piece. Teacher Tiong taught me that there were three answers: Dominant, Sub-Dominant, and Relative Minor. But he didn't mention any of those. I looked at him, frightened to death, and asked, what it was that he wanted me to answer. He was like, "Mmm. Sigh."


OH GAWD how can I PASS?

In the end, he had mercy on me and told me in what form the answer should be. "I gave you this key, so what key is this and this?"

"Oh. Erm. E?" (Minor? Major? BLAH?) "And then... D." (Minor? Major? Double BLAH?)

"Are you sure of the sequence?"

Trick question much. "Erm... Mm... Yes."


After that, Mr. Timothy played a piece. I had to describe the tonality, and the style. I think I pretty much gave him the right answers, because after every response, he was like, "Ahh..." Lean back, close his eyes, as though he'd just figured out how gravity works.

"The piece is in... A major key. And... It... Stayed major."

"Ahh."

"The style's... Romantic."

"Ahh. Why is that?"

"Because it is... expressive."

"Ahh."

I was going all, "And..." Because I thought I had to give an elaborate answer as to why I thought it was romantic. But then there was the 'Ahh.' so I stopped. He stopped, and looked at me expectantly. Or warningly. You're already correct. You want to risk...?

And I went, "Erm. Yeah."

Finally, CLAPPING.

TEACHER! I don't want to blame you but... YOU TOTALLY NEVER WENT THROUGH CLAPPING WITH ME!

I'd seen it on the net, read about it in the book, but somehow (oh boy, this somehow here is really really some HOW THE HECK?) I never brought it up with her.

Mr. Timothy played the piece TWICE, and both times I was standing there, frozen. Did he say clapping? I think I heard clapping. Is that what he wants me to do? What is this? Why isn't he saying anything?

After he finished playing, he looked at me. I was blank. After a few awkward seconds, I was forced to ask him, "What... Was the question?"

So now you guys know lah, why I failed. If I fail. When I fail.

Oh, I ended up clapping. Halfheartedly, weakly, WRONGLY.

The possible answers are: 2, 3, 4, and 6/8

I told him, 4, but now, thinking back, only a 6/8 could've managed to confuse me so, so much. I'd have done 2, 3, and 4 time since I was in Grade One. These would never confuse me, being such good buddies with me. No, I'm sure now, that was a strange, evil 6/8.


And I accidentally hit my head on one of the bed lamps, and it fell, and hit my head again, and kinda shattered a bit. So now if the bill for it comes, and it's RM200, and I fail my RM400 examination...

Mummy, I love you.

But she was all indignant about it. What if the glass cut my daughter? Huh? Then we'll be suing them! They should be thankful it didn't cut her!

Mother's are cool like that. Indignant and angry and protective and... Stingy...

So that was that. And I'm so glad it's over. Given the short span of time I had to practice, which was nobody's fault but mine alone, I think I did quite okay. God really, really helped me this time, I know. Even if He didn't, I don't really mind because I had a lesson to learn. No procrastinations, darling. No more.



Signed, Carmelia.


Feeling, relieved.
Thinking, on to other issues!

Piano Examination: < 24 hours

Not being able to log into Facebook is horrible.

And I keep glancing at my phone.

I'd finished watching Anastasia, after going through my scales, arpeggios, and exam pieces, and now my family's just come back.

Mum: "Ei, no practice piano?"

Melia: "I did, you don't want me to continue practicing and practicing and practicing, yeah?"

Dad: "Only asking if you practiced, and you have to give such a long answer?"


I thought mum was asking present tense, dad. But whatever.

See. Me being defensive again. Sometimes, or maybe all the time, I should just shut up and let other people take the first step. One step from them, one step from me. Why do I keep running forward when I end up slowing to an awkward stop?

Is it just me? Are there only a bunch of people in the world who simply hate to be wrong? Am I one of them?

I'd think I'm quick to acknowledge my mistakes. Quicker than most, anyway.

Stop overthinking.

Practicing the piano recently is like working out for me. I was sweating, it was that intense. All those staccatos- and my fingers aren't exactly strong. I have little, weak fingers. It's amazing what I can do with them. I draw, I type, I play the guitar, the piano. You'd have thought they'd developed stronger muscles, but I don't feel that.

My fingers keep slipping off the keys, especially the black ones.

I'm having the most problem with my contrary motions now. These are scales that you play with both hands starting in the middle, and going spread out in opposite directions. Like a mirror.

Asides that, I'm worried about my aural. I always get perfect scores for the aural section (more or less perfect) but this time I'm not sure I"d pass that section, even.

Don't even get me started on my sight singing and reading. I can't sing notes, I'm tone-deaf that way. And as for reading notes, I can't even play Sophia's Grade 2 pieces.

If I pass, it's all God's doing. None of mine. If I pass, I'm sure my fingers were taking orders from something other than my brain. My brain is officially frazzled out.

And then there's my PA assignment. The presentation isn't that difficult to do, but the folio is a different story. So I can't celebrate yet after I come out from the examination room. I have to call up my team members and work out how we're supposed to finish the whole thing within two days.

Well, honestly. My life isn't that bad. In fact, it's really good.

Worst case scenario: I fail Grade 7.

Worst case scenario: I get scolded for not finishing my assignments, essays and journal.

So what?




I keep getting nightmares recently. I don't know why.




I feel like meeting up with Melissa and any of the rest of the gang, whoever, and just sit there and talk. We don't meet very often, sometimes we go weeks without contact, but we still stayed best friends. So...


I'm as stubborn as a famished bulldog that's not letting go of a fresh steak. Back off. Growl.


Signed, Carmelia.


Feeling, on the verge of okay.
Thinking, one step at a time.

Pre- Grade 7 Piano Examination (43.5 hours)

I have approximately...

*counts*

24 hours + 9.5 hours + 10 hours

= 43.5 hours

before the examination.

I'll be breathing, thinking, feeling MUSIC

...and because I'm not the type who goes all "MUSIC IS MY LIFE", that is definitely going to DRIVE ME CRAZY.

*Britney Spears* You drive me kwwaaaaaa-zeeee~~

It's like releasing a bird into the wild... Ocean.

Sunday night was one of the worst nights emotionally for me. I'd have overdosed on Became if dad didn't accidentally see the pills on the table. I didn't plan to commit suicide, mind you, I'm not that stupid. I just really, really wanted to go to sleep. Now I know how horrible it is when you can't sleep because... Well, you just can't sleep.

And then I woke up all quiet and... I'm not sure how I was, but I must have acted weird because around 9, mum told me to get into the car and drive the both of us to Sister Suk's.

I didn't really want to go. The adults just keep telling me things I already know. I know. I know. Shoot, I FREAKING KNOW ALREADY.

But I just went. And I'm glad I did. Yeah, Sister Suk did tell me things I already know, but somehow she managed to re-confirm some important facts. We prayed. I talked a bit, she talked a bit. We discussed a bit.

Nigel texted me, so I knew he was alright and he wasn't, well, totally pissed and mad at me.

I don't know what is the cause, what is the sub-cause, exactly what solved the problem and what helped...

Bottom line, I felt so much better as I drove home with mum.

:D

Thank You Jesus. Even if this feel-good thing is only going to last as long as I need it to, well, at least let it continue now. This piano examination is already killing me. I'm setting all my assignments aside, for the weekend. Now, it's music, music, music.

*gag*

I thought I was so strong, but I'd just forgotten how terrible it is to feel that explosion happening again and again inside you and there is absolutely nothing you can do to make it stop. That happened like, what? Four years ago? I'm not sure even if this isn't the first time.


Signed, Carmelia.


Feeling, weird.
Thinking, I'm so sorry. To a lot of people. For a lot of things.

Seek ye first the kingdom of God

God, love me.

For all the doubts I have, as long as I have one assurance, I will be fine.

I feel so alone sometimes, with all those thoughts stuck in my head and no one to share them with. Maybe that's why I'd never kept a diary. I'd written in one a few times, to rant and rave, but that's it. Anything else, I blog about. Anything else, I shorten, summarize, and post on Facebook. For me, if it ain't seen by someone other than me, it is not expressed. This isn't an opinion. This is how i react.

I'd been reading and rereading the DISC personalities book I borrowed from Sister Suk recently. Basically, D and C are task-orientated, I and S are people orientated. D and I are outgoing, I and S are reserved.

Guess which one I am?

A few things caught my eye about High-S personalities.


They're selfish. It's not that they care only about themselves, but being more of a sucker than anyone else, they tend to become too nice, too open, and end up getting burned. They're very indecisive. They don't want to offend or hurt anyone with their decisions. Instead of risking a wrong turn, they'd rather never turn and go straight all the way. They need security. They want to know the outcome of a journey before embarking on it. They need to know what's going to be around, and what's not. If not, they act like turtles and hide into their shells.


I like reading stuff about personalities, because frankly, I like reading the justifications and the explanations that come with it and from a source other than me. Explaining myself makes me feel defensive, which I don't like.

Is it a bad thing, to be defensive? My dad always acts like it is. I got fed up. I just shut up nowadays. Act like a turtle and hide. Maybe kick up a rude cloud of dust in his direction.

I am selfish, that I admit. It's not negative thinking. It's simply rational. I'm not sure, but maybe it's because, if I don't focus on myself, I'll have to focus on other people. There are so, so many people out there I can focus on. Which one do I focus on? How do I focus on them? Will they like being focused on? What if I think I'm taking care of them when I'm actually damaging them? I don't know everything about anyone.

The best person I know how to take care of is me.

So I end up doing just that, because I know for sure, for at least 99%, that if I ever offend myself or lead myself down the wrong path, I can forgive myself and not make a big fuss out of it. I know exactly what I'm thinking, so when I tell myself, it's okay, or I'm sorry, I know that I'm sincere.

So I dare to want the best for myself. Because I know what is best for me. And because I know that if I was wrong about what's best and make a mess, at least it'll only be me that's messed up because of it. And myself I can untangle.

Time heals. But only if you allow it. Being stuck with myself 24/7 I have an endless opportunity to understand myself, to talk to myself and think. I can untangle myself slowly, anywhere, anytime. But can I do that to another person besides me? The person I spend the most time with is...

Well, I don't know. My mum? Sister? And even they I can't untangle because I don't spend that much time with them. And even if I can, I can't be trying to untangle them all the time. I don't know how to.

Perhaps that's why people like being alone so much. It's only themselves that they have to be conscious about. They don't have to think about anyone else at the moment. They can focus on getting themselves straight first, instead of chewing off more than they can bite and trying to cheer other people up or entertain people. And probably do something wrong and end up worsening situations.

I like being physically alone. But however horrible I feel or however much I want to run away from anyone else, I know I don't want God to leave. If He leaves, I'm dead. I'm really, truly dead. No security, nothing to stand on, nothing to live for, no one to turn to.

That's pretty much a truism for a lot of Christians. No God, no nothing.

It's the acting it out part that I have trouble with. What does no God mean? Is there anything I can actually do to cause God to leave me?

Oh yes. But a lot of people have a lot of different opinions on that.

What does the bible say?

It depends on who you're asking that question to.



If I'm really a High-S (and I'm thinking, I am) then all these insecurities are the culprits. They are the ones driving me mad and making me go WHATEVER and throw everything out the window and start to laugh and giggle and seeing everything in a fun, happy light.

Thank God for God.

Occasionally I just forget about everything else, just push and kick them aside. I abandon my Isaac, tie him up, raise the dagger. Only God deserves all attention and glory and praise and thanksgiving.

Nevertheless, I don't do that all the time. That'll be wrong.

There's a difference between only Jesus matters, and Jesus matters the most.

Because only Jesus matters, everyone else matters. Jesus wants us to love everyone. Our neighbors as ourselves, and our brothers and sisters in Christ more than ourselves. Even if Jesus is the only one that matters, we'd still have to make other people matter, because Jesus said so. Otherwise, He wouldn't really matter to you.

"Why call you me Lord, Lord, when you do not obey my Father's commands?"

So Jesus matters the most. Other people matter as well.



11-06-2010, Friday. 9.40am

I wrote all that yesterday morning, but I couldn't post it because after I moved the laptop into the diner, the WiFi stopped working.




Everyone was running away from her, and even the few that were chained to her were walking slowly away. The chains were long enough to let them walk far enough for her to feel so alone.

And then she turned around to see Him.

"They'll come back, but even if they don't, am I enough for you?"

Yes.

Everything was okay.

She tugged at one of the chains. One of the people turned to look at her. It was still smiling.

Everything is okay.




Signed, Carmelia.


Feeling, unsteady.
Thinking, Jesus, I want to put You first. Help me.

Problems

(i'd written this a long time ago. i can't remember why i didn't post it.)

I'd attended a leadership seminar by Chester Wright earlier this year. I'd expected workshops on leadership, how to lead, how to care for your followers, etc.

I got a whole bunch of lessons that seems irrelevant at first. (Of course, when you get an 'at first', you know there's a twist somewhere further down the line.)

One of those lessons was basically this:

Jesus never promised that if we follow Him, all our problems would be solved. Instead, we'll have the peace, the joy, the hope, to be able to endure all things.




And yet, it isn't wrong to say that Jesus did promise us that all our problems would be solved if we follow Him and bear His cross.

The meaning's the same, only different phrasings are used.

What is a problem?

I've come to realize that a real, true problem, is a situation that even God wants to change, and plans to, if only we let Him.

Most of the 'problems' I've encountered and are encountering, stayed and is staying, even after prayer.

I believe there's nothing barring my prayers from being heard from God (yes, this is possible) so He'd heard them. I believe that God loves me. I believe that God answers prayers.

So when He answers 'No' when I ask Him to help me take away a problem, I know, or maybe I let myself think, that this is another fire I have to go through.

Those aren't problems. They are to me, but to God they are simply trials. No use just taking trials away, especially not when He knows there's a lesson I need to learn or an experience I need to obtain.

Experiences are important. You never know when you need to draw on a particular experience to be able to learn a lesson properly.

Back on the subject. If our faith in God is extremely strong, then perhaps we will be able to see all the poop of life simply as trials. There are no problems. I won't be seeing something as a problem if it doesn't or will not be causing me strife or anger.

Someone's going to chop off my leg. Is that a problem? No. I'll lose a leg, but if losing a leg won't make me sad or angry or hurt or blah, then it's simply not a problem. (Nevertheless I think most of us really appreciate having both legs functioning properly so this is generally a big problem.)

Too bad (Or is it...?) not many, if any at all, of us have that kind of faith in God.




Carmelia has a tendency to not view something as a problem, and if she kinda double-visions something as a problem and yet is not, that's very probably because since it's going to be a problem for a loved one, which by itself is then a problem for Carmelia.

I'm not blowing any trumpets here, and especially not my own (Or am I?) I don't think my ability to forget about problems or view them lightly is because of how awesome and great and strong my faith in God is (It's NOT). Someone told me before that it has something to do with this defense mechanism I'd subconsciously built into my brain. Anything unhappy or unsettling, and it's PAP into the shredding machine, you mean little problem.

Unfortunately when you shred something, it doesn't disappear. It only becomes shredded into many, many pieces, which get mixed up with other many, many, many pieces of problems, which then all clutter up the place.

And when you realize, oh, there's a lesson there, somewhere...

Well, it's probably difficult enough to find a lesson on a piece of problem. To find a shredded lesson in the midst of gazillions shreds of pieces of problems?




ANYWAY (I digressed, now I have to scroll back up to remember what the skeleton of this post is)

Recently Jerry's ice cream fell off the cone and onto the carpet. Guess what I did? I laughed, and got a really angry, non-playful punch from dear brother.

I was writing a really good, really long chapter once, but because of some fault of the computer, nothing was saved. The frustration lasted as long as a snap of fingers, and I was happily thinking, hey, I'm improving my memory and writing skills by rewriting the whole thing again.

Coffee, family pet dearest, passed away. I didn't mind. Yeah, very cold of me. Some of my friends were (they seemed anyway) devastated. I was thinking, now I can get my bunnies, we don't have to risk getting bit, no more having to tie up the dog when we need to open the gate, no more noisy nights...

I crashed an Avanza with three family members in it. Though it was a trauma afterwards, the first few minutes after it happened? I was laughing quietly, thinking about how I have another good story to tell friends.



SICK. I can't type in anymore examples lest any readers here start to think I'm a cold-hearted psycho who laughs and is gleeful at anything and everything. I can't remember anymore anyway, I think the defense mechanism's working again.

I'm not, okay? I cry at stupid little things, things that aren't problems. Like that dog who had no hind-legs and was dragging itself happily over the road near the burnt-down Servay. Like Jimmy, the student who committed suicide.

But when faced with a problem or a disaster, and given time to think... I just...

I don't really know what I do. I do analyze myself a lot, but I just can't remember the outcome, and I can't be bothered to record them immediately before I forget (I don't want to have to get scolded by mum for blogging about every little thing.)






It rained extremely heavily last week. Somehow I got stuck at Centre Point. I wanted to roam the place, drift around a bit after the heavy-duty lifestyle at camp. Basically, the evening was an unusual one, as in, it wasn't as comfortable as my other evenings were. The pretty white slippers I had on easily slipped off when wet, being plastic, so I couldn't run across the slightly flooded road. I might accidentally leave a shoe on the road and try to get it back and get hit by a car. I was cold, I'd left my jacket over at church. Dad kept postponing coming to fetch me, because it was superbly jammed on the roads. Mum wasn't happy that I wasn't home immediately after camp. I had no appetite to eat, and I didn't want to use any money, but I ended up at SR for a piece of apple crumble, since it was the cheapest food item on the menu. Stanely was there, bless him. Someone else was around too, bless him. After that I finally forced myself to cross the road, limping so that the slippers won't slip off my feet, get to church, which was locked, sat on the stairs waiting for someone to come open the door...

That seems like a horrible evening for me. It didn't FEEL horrible, not now, not at the time, because I was just being myself, all happy and thankful for what I have and knowing that I don't have the right to complain, etc. But that, I think, counts as a bad evening.

Maybe I'm wrong, because maybe I'm a little princess whose worst experiences are like fairy cakes compared to other people's okay-lah experiences.

Maybe I'm right, and I have a lot more of these horrible experiences that I can't describe because I'd never thought of them as 'horrible' at all.

Nana just sent me a text saying she'd slipped in front of the boys (She's at Melaka) and it was embarrassing. Followed by an 'XD'

XD usually means GOSH! smilingly.

Hey, she has that upbeat attitude too.

Maybe all of us has.

So why do I sometimes have to hide my smile in the face of a disaster?... To avoid people thinking that I'm happy that something horrible has happened, I think.

I'm not happy that something horrible has happened... I'm just happy to know that I have a God, He will be there for me, I just have to surrender, and though I'll still have to fight and struggle, I can be assured He's around.