Wow, two posts in a day. I might be violating a rule I'd set for my new blog, but as usual, I can't remember. So I won't care.
LOVE!
I don't know how many posts after this one will have the same title. It's such a huge, wide topic, involving everyone and everything. It's everything. At least, it is to me. More than anything else, this post is for who I'm going to be in the future. I forget a lot of stands I take. This is a stand I shouldn't forget, even if I end up not agreeing with myself anymore.
First and foremost, God is love. This is why I believe in love so much. Love is almighty, Love solves all things. Love never bears a grudge and always forgives. Love always protects. Love always perseveres. Makes sense.
Humans are created with the ability to love and the need to be loved. Maybe it has something to do with how, as Christians, we're supposed to aim to be like Christ. Christ is God. God is Love. We are supposed, then, to be like Love. I'm not sure how that works yet. But seeing how powerful love is, it doesn't seem untrue...
Whenever people talk about love, I usually wonder which definition of love they're using.
I've felt such hatred before for someone I said I loved. It shook me so much. I felt like such a hypocrite. That got me thinking about what love is. If love can so easily be dominated by hate, then love isn't that awesome after all. This isn't limited to that romantic relationship; the same went for family & best friends. A fleeting moment of dislike and hatred- And everything concerning the 'love' I had for them was unturned and poured into the drain.
There's a phrase Kiren says. "You must love everyone, but you don't have to like everyone."
Sometimes I find myself disagreeing. Sometimes, I agree. Right now, since I'm analyzing everything so closely, I don't know. I guess if by 'like' it means feel good about and with someone, then I agree.
If I want to know if I still have love in me, I'll think of someone whom I absolutely have no feelings for. Maybe the pudgy guy living in the neighborhood, or the devil boy from my mum's class (he drives her crazy, she comes back complaining, Carmelia is influenced). Maybe that friend of my sister's who thinks she's so tough. Maybe Sharon. Maybe Saddam Hussein. Maybe that man from the news who murdered his family. Maybe that uncle who...
Hm, not bad. I'm feeling okay about them. I don't do this often, because I'm too distracted by the people I like to be bothered about people I dislike and don't see.
Then again, who am I kidding? They're not hurting me. I'm a selfish girl. I don't dislike people who haven't hurt me. I just don't care about them. Remember when dad scolded you? When mum screamed at you? What were you feeling then? Could you have calmly stayed silent and forgive them for hurting you even as they're doing it?
And then there's romance.
What flimsy, WEAK thing. It ends when I stop my iPod. It ends when I face school. It ends when I'm with my family. It ends when I'm stressed out. It ends when I get scolded by an adult. It freaking ENDS when I'm offended.
Romance feels so darn good, I don't kick it out completely. I am able to enjoy it even when I'm heartbroken, that's how much of a romantic I am. But I make it a point to recognize it (it likes visiting me a lot) and keep an eye on it. It'd caused me to do some very stupid things before. Thank God I was such a coward, I didn't do more. Not that I regret those stupid things. The lessons I learnt from them far outweigh in impact the consequences I had to face.
What would I know about romance, anyway? It's not like I adore romance novels (actually, I quite dislike them) and romance movies. I didn't plan to watch When Harry Met Sally and A Walk To Remember. Those are the only two romance movies I can remember at the moment. A friend once expressed shock when he knew I didn't watch romance movies. He loves them.
I only know I'm slightly varied from others in this sense because of the times people talked about romance novels/movies so happily, and I don't feel interested. I like to reciprocate the feelings of the people around me to fit in, so when I can't, I take notice. If I live amongst people who didn't care for movies like those as well, then I don't think I'd have noticed.
***
Just deleted a whole lot of ranting. This post is entitled Love, not Romance Kinda Sucks. :)
And knowing I have an audience for this blog affects my writing too. I can't help it, anymore I can help feeling helpless.
To be able to love at His command... I'd like that very much.
Signed, Carmelia.
Feeling, slightly scared.
Thinking, I don't mind drawing lines, I just don't know where they should go.
Sunday, May 23, 2010
Saturday, May 22, 2010
Just A Kid
Woke up at 6.14am. I'd set my alarm to go off at 5.45am, I wanted to go get some lazy sunlight at the park, breathe in some fresh air. Watch some old people exercise. But I ended up in front of the computer (big surprise) to do some Face-Caking & Sunday School preparation.
My neck hurts now, especially when I turn it. Now I can't look to my right without this sharp pain jolting my head and making me slightly nauseous.
I was born around 6pm, October 6th in 1992. Which makes me...
*cricket*
If I assume the calculator starts counting from 12am, then I... Minus... 18 hours.
556, 227, 301 seconds minus how many seconds there are in 18 hours.
How long do I have until my 18th birthday?
And I won't be a juvenile anymore. If I get get dragged to court, I'm protected no more by the Juvenile Court. The media will be able to report my identity to the public.
I may go to clubs. I may drink alcohol. I may smoke. I may marry.
It's scary. It isn't scaring me now, but I know it's scary. To be allowed to do so many things, to carry the responsibility of making my own choices. I don't drink, I definitely don't smoke, and I don't plan to get married anytime soon.
But clubs...
One thing about clubbing is that, you don't know where the line is drawn. It might just be a harmless night out, or it can turn into an all-out riot of frenzy dancing, drinking, maybe even drugs.
If I really think about it, the best is that I never club at all, no matter how 'harmless' I think it is. But, haha, that is what I think now. I never know what I'll do in the future. And with me liking to be outside so late at nights, the possibility of me going, "Oh, what the heck." when someone invites me along is rather huge.
I can't even make myself turn off the computer late at nights to go to bed, even when there's school the next morning and I have to wake up at 6.
Throw me into society, and I don't think I can survive. I went to church some time ago using public transport, and MAN I was so out of place. People were giving me looks, and not that I'm good at reading faces, but they seemed to be thinking, "Apa awek Cina ni buat di sini?" I didn't know what to do with the ticket the conductor gave me, and if it wasn't for a friend from church, I might have simply continued on the bus down to Kudat or village.
I can't bargain. I'm a city girl, but I don't own the shrewdness of one (so unfair). I'd bought things that are way overpriced. No wonder it's a habit of mine not to let mummy see what I buy, in case she blasts me. Thank God for mummy.
This friend, whom I've known for four years, texted me one night and suddenly went, "Give me a chance." I freaked, and immediately I SOSed Melissa. Maklumlah, Melissa has years of experience concerning these things. ;) She took charge, was so confident that I felt envious. Told me what to do, what not to do, even what to think, so that I didn't make a mistake I'd regret, like pitying him so much I'll say yes.
My room can turn from a room into a pig sty within hours. I feel so sorry for Anita. I keep telling her, don't need to clean up my room, don't need to go in, even, but I guess she felt even more sorry for me, and kept going in to clean up anyway.
I found out how to iron a collared shirt from a mistake another princess made. She was trying to iron the shirt in a weird way, which seemed perfectly fine to me at the time, until this other girl exclaimed, "Hey, you iron your clothes like THAT?" Like she was skinning a hamster alive. I was a minute away from revealing that I, too, don't know how to iron a collar shirt. *shudder* Lesson: Unbutton the shirt before ironing it
The list of how not independent I am can go on, and on. Yeah, I may be matured, but that's in how I think. How I act is way different, especially concerning the world. It's still a big, black hole to me, and I'm sure it's the same with Nana. We don't go out much. I don't know to kiss ass adults. Teachers, yes, but they aren't real adults. Are they?
It's 8.30am. Will edit this later. Morning weirdness is attacking full on right now.
EDIT: Back from church, McDonald's, & shoe-shopping. Why are some pf the really fantastic stuff in PINK? Gargh.
My neck still hurts like crazy. It's like, turn to the right, a string in the neck is pulled, sharp pain, instant nausea! According to mum and Tasha, it'll take at least two days. Ah well.
I think it's fine to act like a total baby sometimes, but I really hope I can learn to be more street smart and prove it to my parents. My dad's talking about just letting me study in UMS (local university) because I can't take care of myself. NO.
My functional maturity only manifests itself when the people around me are less capable than me. For example, crossing the road. When with adults or friends of the more 'serious adult' type, I run like a chicken across the road, squealing. When with kids? Hah, automatically, queen of the highway, stop cars with a wave of the royal hand.
Maybe it's just a mentality thing. It should be.
Childishly, Carmelia.
Feeling, like such a baby.
Thinking, so much work to be done. Are they going to get done, Carmelia?
My neck hurts now, especially when I turn it. Now I can't look to my right without this sharp pain jolting my head and making me slightly nauseous.
I was born around 6pm, October 6th in 1992. Which makes me...
*cricket*
6437 days, 19 hours, 33 minutes, 35 seconds old.
(Don't think I calculated this. I don't allow complicated Mathematics so early in the day. I'm good to myself. Got it here: Calculator.)
(Don't think I calculated this. I don't allow complicated Mathematics so early in the day. I'm good to myself. Got it here: Calculator.)
If I assume the calculator starts counting from 12am, then I... Minus... 18 hours.
6437 days, 1 hour, 33 minutes, 35 seconds old
556, 227, 301 seconds minus how many seconds there are in 18 hours.
How long do I have until my 18th birthday?
135 days, 16 hours, 24 minutes, 1 second
And I won't be a juvenile anymore. If I get get dragged to court, I'm protected no more by the Juvenile Court. The media will be able to report my identity to the public.
I may go to clubs. I may drink alcohol. I may smoke. I may marry.
It's scary. It isn't scaring me now, but I know it's scary. To be allowed to do so many things, to carry the responsibility of making my own choices. I don't drink, I definitely don't smoke, and I don't plan to get married anytime soon.
But clubs...
One thing about clubbing is that, you don't know where the line is drawn. It might just be a harmless night out, or it can turn into an all-out riot of frenzy dancing, drinking, maybe even drugs.
If I really think about it, the best is that I never club at all, no matter how 'harmless' I think it is. But, haha, that is what I think now. I never know what I'll do in the future. And with me liking to be outside so late at nights, the possibility of me going, "Oh, what the heck." when someone invites me along is rather huge.
I can't even make myself turn off the computer late at nights to go to bed, even when there's school the next morning and I have to wake up at 6.
Throw me into society, and I don't think I can survive. I went to church some time ago using public transport, and MAN I was so out of place. People were giving me looks, and not that I'm good at reading faces, but they seemed to be thinking, "Apa awek Cina ni buat di sini?" I didn't know what to do with the ticket the conductor gave me, and if it wasn't for a friend from church, I might have simply continued on the bus down to Kudat or village.
I can't bargain. I'm a city girl, but I don't own the shrewdness of one (so unfair). I'd bought things that are way overpriced. No wonder it's a habit of mine not to let mummy see what I buy, in case she blasts me. Thank God for mummy.
This friend, whom I've known for four years, texted me one night and suddenly went, "Give me a chance." I freaked, and immediately I SOSed Melissa. Maklumlah, Melissa has years of experience concerning these things. ;) She took charge, was so confident that I felt envious. Told me what to do, what not to do, even what to think, so that I didn't make a mistake I'd regret, like pitying him so much I'll say yes.
My room can turn from a room into a pig sty within hours. I feel so sorry for Anita. I keep telling her, don't need to clean up my room, don't need to go in, even, but I guess she felt even more sorry for me, and kept going in to clean up anyway.
I found out how to iron a collared shirt from a mistake another princess made. She was trying to iron the shirt in a weird way, which seemed perfectly fine to me at the time, until this other girl exclaimed, "Hey, you iron your clothes like THAT?" Like she was skinning a hamster alive. I was a minute away from revealing that I, too, don't know how to iron a collar shirt. *shudder* Lesson: Unbutton the shirt before ironing it
The list of how not independent I am can go on, and on. Yeah, I may be matured, but that's in how I think. How I act is way different, especially concerning the world. It's still a big, black hole to me, and I'm sure it's the same with Nana. We don't go out much. I don't know to kiss ass adults. Teachers, yes, but they aren't real adults. Are they?
It's 8.30am. Will edit this later. Morning weirdness is attacking full on right now.
EDIT: Back from church, McDonald's, & shoe-shopping. Why are some pf the really fantastic stuff in PINK? Gargh.
My neck still hurts like crazy. It's like, turn to the right, a string in the neck is pulled, sharp pain, instant nausea! According to mum and Tasha, it'll take at least two days. Ah well.
I think it's fine to act like a total baby sometimes, but I really hope I can learn to be more street smart and prove it to my parents. My dad's talking about just letting me study in UMS (local university) because I can't take care of myself. NO.
My functional maturity only manifests itself when the people around me are less capable than me. For example, crossing the road. When with adults or friends of the more 'serious adult' type, I run like a chicken across the road, squealing. When with kids? Hah, automatically, queen of the highway, stop cars with a wave of the royal hand.
Maybe it's just a mentality thing. It should be.
Childishly, Carmelia.
Feeling, like such a baby.
Thinking, so much work to be done. Are they going to get done, Carmelia?
Friday, May 21, 2010
When Things Go Wrong
When things go wrong...
Sometimes, the thing going wrong is one big, horrible problem.
Sometimes, each problem is moderate, but then everything is going wrong at the same time.
Sometimes, things aren't so bad.
Sometimes, it's not a problem at all.
Sometimes, you cannot even think about how wrong, how ridiculously wrong things are.
I may be incorrect, but most of the people I know and love are unable to handle disasters well. They can, because if they cannot, they'd have committed suicide. But they can't handle it well.
I'm one of them. I'm extremely weak, and I'm still learning to toughen myself up when the going gets tough, so that I can get going. I thought I was strong, and I sure can act it. I know to act the strength out because as a big sister (not just to my siblings, but to many little cousins as well), a false sense of authority has always been exercised by me. With authority is pride, and with pride, you tend not to reveal your weaknesses willingly.
I remember when I crashed the family car. I even managed to convince myself that I was fine, I was strong, I'm okay, and everyone else was just fussing way too much. In actual fact, my parents took the whole thing so cool and calm, I thought they were just quiet from the shock. But the dreaded volcanic eruption never came; they were not shocked, simply calm.
The only volcanic eruption that took place was inside me. I couldn't sleep that night, a mental video playing again and again in my mind. How the car just swerved, and how horribly gigantic the impact was. There seemed to be a gap in between panic and the actual impact. An empty, black gap. That was not all. There was guilt and fear as well. I cannot be too specific here. But it was terrible.
It didn't seem so. But it felt so, and I was confused. I kept trying to tell myself, hey, cut it out, it's alright, you're alive, it's fine.
It was not your typical misery, this one. I don't think it's called 'sad', or 'fear'. All I remember now is this big blur of frazzled black lines where my emotions were supposed to be. I would have been really interested, and tried sorting my feelings and thoughts out to find out more, but I couldn't. I ended up crying anyway, saying sorry to my dad when he came into the room, still trying to solve the aftermath of my accident. So weak. So... human.
But however weak I am, I think I'd always choose to be the victim in the place of loved ones, given a choice. I'd rather bear the depression, the heartbroken feeling, the confusion...
Not because I'm awesome and all loving. No. Because, I absolutely HATE it when I know how terrible a parent, a sibling, a friend's feeling and I can do nothing about it. That helplessness, I dislike. :(
It's a helplessness that leads to nonchalance (or is it?...). I know that little bit of fact about myself. When I can't do anything about something, I tend to just leave it alone and busy myself with something else. That is partly why I procrastinate so much. I don't know how to start an assignment, for example, and I'll be so annoyed by it, I'll push it aside. The same goes for when loved ones are in distress. I don't know how to start the comfort and assistance, and I'll be so frustrated at myself, I'll give up and go away, hoping and knowing (thinking?) that someone else can do the job better than I can.
And I think it's the truth. Apart from my four family members, anyone else, any friend, will have someone else who can comfort them better. They do have their own family members after all, or friends who are closer, or, in some cases, a boyfriend or a girlfriend. I do my part, I show that I care and that I am concerned. What else can I do?
I'm okay with that little I do. I know that little will mean a lot. But on a few occasions, I'm somewhat more affected than usual, and I'll be feeling bad and worried because I can't make sure that everything will be okay for them.
My best friends, I tend not to concern myself too much. :) I trust that their family, their boyfriends, will be able to take care of them. I trust that they will let me know when they need me. You girls do know that, don't you? :)
Is it okay to assume that, friends and family love me so much that if they knew I'm troubled about their condition, they'd be even MORE troubled? Which is why I don't really want to be all, :( XS :( XS :( XS :( XS :( XS :( XS :(... Even though I feel like that.
But then again, if I put a smile, people might think I take their problems too lightly. Confusing. Or maybe I'm thinking too much.
The gift of comforting people is really a GIFT. That's why when I know someone is trying to cheer me up or make me feel better, I just accept whatever he/she has to give, even if it's not working. What's the phrase? "Oh well. Their intentions are good."
And in a nice way, knowing that actually makes their comforting work.
I usually complain to my mum and siblings, and that divides my stress. But when it's something I can't tell them, it's Jesus. As a matter of fact, before I even think about anyone else, my first thought should be about Jesus.
I don't know if this is the right thing to do, but I'm currently trying my best to disconnect mind from heart whenever something really wrong happens and the heart is attacked. I guess I don't want the logic of the mind to be affected as well, so all connections are severed. I'm not succeeding, but I think I'm making progress. :D It really helps to remember Jesus. Beginning and the End. Author of Peace. Almighty.
Well, how wrong can things get when the One who always does right is in supreme charge? :D
Alrightness, Carmelia.
Feeling, at ease.
Thinking, I need to practice my theories.
Sometimes, the thing going wrong is one big, horrible problem.
Sometimes, each problem is moderate, but then everything is going wrong at the same time.
Sometimes, things aren't so bad.
Sometimes, it's not a problem at all.
Sometimes, you cannot even think about how wrong, how ridiculously wrong things are.
I may be incorrect, but most of the people I know and love are unable to handle disasters well. They can, because if they cannot, they'd have committed suicide. But they can't handle it well.
I'm one of them. I'm extremely weak, and I'm still learning to toughen myself up when the going gets tough, so that I can get going. I thought I was strong, and I sure can act it. I know to act the strength out because as a big sister (not just to my siblings, but to many little cousins as well), a false sense of authority has always been exercised by me. With authority is pride, and with pride, you tend not to reveal your weaknesses willingly.
I remember when I crashed the family car. I even managed to convince myself that I was fine, I was strong, I'm okay, and everyone else was just fussing way too much. In actual fact, my parents took the whole thing so cool and calm, I thought they were just quiet from the shock. But the dreaded volcanic eruption never came; they were not shocked, simply calm.
The only volcanic eruption that took place was inside me. I couldn't sleep that night, a mental video playing again and again in my mind. How the car just swerved, and how horribly gigantic the impact was. There seemed to be a gap in between panic and the actual impact. An empty, black gap. That was not all. There was guilt and fear as well. I cannot be too specific here. But it was terrible.
It didn't seem so. But it felt so, and I was confused. I kept trying to tell myself, hey, cut it out, it's alright, you're alive, it's fine.
It was not your typical misery, this one. I don't think it's called 'sad', or 'fear'. All I remember now is this big blur of frazzled black lines where my emotions were supposed to be. I would have been really interested, and tried sorting my feelings and thoughts out to find out more, but I couldn't. I ended up crying anyway, saying sorry to my dad when he came into the room, still trying to solve the aftermath of my accident. So weak. So... human.
But however weak I am, I think I'd always choose to be the victim in the place of loved ones, given a choice. I'd rather bear the depression, the heartbroken feeling, the confusion...
Not because I'm awesome and all loving. No. Because, I absolutely HATE it when I know how terrible a parent, a sibling, a friend's feeling and I can do nothing about it. That helplessness, I dislike. :(
It's a helplessness that leads to nonchalance (or is it?...). I know that little bit of fact about myself. When I can't do anything about something, I tend to just leave it alone and busy myself with something else. That is partly why I procrastinate so much. I don't know how to start an assignment, for example, and I'll be so annoyed by it, I'll push it aside. The same goes for when loved ones are in distress. I don't know how to start the comfort and assistance, and I'll be so frustrated at myself, I'll give up and go away, hoping and knowing (thinking?) that someone else can do the job better than I can.
And I think it's the truth. Apart from my four family members, anyone else, any friend, will have someone else who can comfort them better. They do have their own family members after all, or friends who are closer, or, in some cases, a boyfriend or a girlfriend. I do my part, I show that I care and that I am concerned. What else can I do?
I'm okay with that little I do. I know that little will mean a lot. But on a few occasions, I'm somewhat more affected than usual, and I'll be feeling bad and worried because I can't make sure that everything will be okay for them.
My best friends, I tend not to concern myself too much. :) I trust that their family, their boyfriends, will be able to take care of them. I trust that they will let me know when they need me. You girls do know that, don't you? :)
Is it okay to assume that, friends and family love me so much that if they knew I'm troubled about their condition, they'd be even MORE troubled? Which is why I don't really want to be all, :( XS :( XS :( XS :( XS :( XS :( XS :(... Even though I feel like that.
But then again, if I put a smile, people might think I take their problems too lightly. Confusing. Or maybe I'm thinking too much.
The gift of comforting people is really a GIFT. That's why when I know someone is trying to cheer me up or make me feel better, I just accept whatever he/she has to give, even if it's not working. What's the phrase? "Oh well. Their intentions are good."
And in a nice way, knowing that actually makes their comforting work.
I usually complain to my mum and siblings, and that divides my stress. But when it's something I can't tell them, it's Jesus. As a matter of fact, before I even think about anyone else, my first thought should be about Jesus.
I don't know if this is the right thing to do, but I'm currently trying my best to disconnect mind from heart whenever something really wrong happens and the heart is attacked. I guess I don't want the logic of the mind to be affected as well, so all connections are severed. I'm not succeeding, but I think I'm making progress. :D It really helps to remember Jesus. Beginning and the End. Author of Peace. Almighty.
Well, how wrong can things get when the One who always does right is in supreme charge? :D
Alrightness, Carmelia.
Feeling, at ease.
Thinking, I need to practice my theories.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
End of Form 6 Orientation Week 2010
Orientation Week, in terms of achieving its purpose, sort of failed. I didn't feel particularly orientated towards Kota Kinabalu High School. I don't know about the new students. Perhaps Orientation Week worked for them. Then again, hanging around a new location for five days, whatever you do, you'd get used to it.
But it's okay. I don't need to get orientated.
OW started last Wednesday, and dragged on until yesterday. Every morning, we met at the hall, before going to the canteen for breakfast and talk. I hung out mostly with Lai Yee Wei (Ah Lai), Chong Li Ying, and Ng Jia Phui. Didn't mean I hanged myself on them, though. As ever, as always, I tend to find myself drifting on the outskirts of the crowd. Alone but, not a loner.
Talks on various subjects punctuated our otherwise lazy days. The teachers seemed intent on scaring us into kicking Science away. Listening to them talk about the syllabus and practicals needed to be done gave me a slight headache. No wonder STPM is claimed to be one of the world's most difficult examinations, relatively speaking.
But at the end of the day, the students were more intent on being ambitious and face the challenge head-on. There are 18 of us now in 6 Rendah Sains, which is actually a huge number compared with the Science classes of previous years. Or so the teachers say.
Our head is Mr. Goh Boon Swee. He teaches Chemistry, and as I'd suspected, is extremely intense. To be that good in a subject that notorious, you have to be intense. He strides in, strides out... He doesn't rush, but neither does he walk. Strides. Like he's on an errand for God Himself. I mean that in a good way, because to be efficient, I guess you can't laze about or slack.
Now, I get personal.
I hardly believe it, but my self-confidence has steeled so much, I'm able to tied my hair up, all the way UP, tight, neat, a total egg-headed geek, and go to school. In the past I'd at least have tried to mess up my hair a bit, so that locks of it will fall by my face.
But not this time.
I'd also abandoned my contacts and wore my Dickies spectacles. In the past, I'd have worn my contacts, for the sake of looking good, even if they were way past their expiry dates, even if I was sleepy and my eyes hurt.
But, not this time.
Two people said I looked better wearing glasses. Namely, Ervin John and Chong Li Ying. I barely thanked them, because I didn't think it was a big deal. Last year, maybe, I'd have felt really good about it. This time, since I was wearing my spectacles out of disregard for beauty, I didn't care. Still, I must care to a certain degree to have noticed this at all :)
Today, we began our lessons. Pengajian Am (General Paper in Bahasa) has a section where it's simple Mathematics. Just basic statistics, and I had a little fun with them. :D BIG DEAL, alright? I used to hate Mathematics so much I'd cry while doing them. Like I cried practicing the piano once, back when I was suffering in Grade 3.
The only problem I'll have with Pengajian Am is the information. I'm okay with the medium (Bahasa), I'm fine with the interpretation of information, but the information which we are required to retain in our heads, the AM in the Pengajian Am itself, is a big problem. For example, Gangsterism. We were to write on ways to overcome this problem, and for every point, we have to have at least three facts. Facts as in, Acts, Laws, Incidents... Things politicians say... (I don't know why what politicians say are so important.)
It's already a bit frustrating trying to dig out stuff like that on the internet. How annoying it was, trying to sew them together with my points. And for someone to thinks too much, like me, I end up throwing points away because I'd accidentally think of at least three rebuttals to that particular point. I don't like arguing for something I don't want to argue for.
I think I'll end up making my parents spend a fortune on books, because I want the latest texts for all my subjects. For Chemistry alone, there are around six books the teacher told us to get ("If you want to invest!"). Biology and Additional Mathematics are heavy duty subjects as well, so I don't expect less than RM80 for the books required for each.
Cikgu Lim Tong Seng told my mum that if I went for Art Stream, I'd easily (comparatively) score my four flat.
I know. I am so tempted to go for my Art and Languages, and live the last few years of my teenage the way I want to live it. Comfortably, wildly. Night rides, new friends, excitement... Blah. But what happened after that? None of the professions of Art, or Languages, attracts me as much as the practicality of, and the service I can offer as, a doctor.
Facebook will be a very huge factor if I end up distracted from my studies.
Well, have to sign off now. I slept through part of MUET today. My body always feels so drained. I've been taking these Iron and Folic Acid pills, and I have to go back to the doctor to check if they're helping. There's no need to check, even. I can just tell them, NO. My left arm is kind of sore from all those injections.
I like injections. If they jab me some more, I might even come to love them. The feeling of a cold, metal needle under my skin...
It's 10:16pm, sixteen minutes past curfew. Off to bed now. Will be slowly devouring some dream food. I'm always scared of good books. I know they'll manage to make a very painful, permanent mark somewhere in there. :)
10:20pm.
Hurriedly signing off, Carmelia.
Feeling, physically, emotionally, mentally weak.
Thinking, it's weird writing so much and not infesting my words with emoticons.
But it's okay. I don't need to get orientated.
OW started last Wednesday, and dragged on until yesterday. Every morning, we met at the hall, before going to the canteen for breakfast and talk. I hung out mostly with Lai Yee Wei (Ah Lai), Chong Li Ying, and Ng Jia Phui. Didn't mean I hanged myself on them, though. As ever, as always, I tend to find myself drifting on the outskirts of the crowd. Alone but, not a loner.
Talks on various subjects punctuated our otherwise lazy days. The teachers seemed intent on scaring us into kicking Science away. Listening to them talk about the syllabus and practicals needed to be done gave me a slight headache. No wonder STPM is claimed to be one of the world's most difficult examinations, relatively speaking.
But at the end of the day, the students were more intent on being ambitious and face the challenge head-on. There are 18 of us now in 6 Rendah Sains, which is actually a huge number compared with the Science classes of previous years. Or so the teachers say.
Our head is Mr. Goh Boon Swee. He teaches Chemistry, and as I'd suspected, is extremely intense. To be that good in a subject that notorious, you have to be intense. He strides in, strides out... He doesn't rush, but neither does he walk. Strides. Like he's on an errand for God Himself. I mean that in a good way, because to be efficient, I guess you can't laze about or slack.
Now, I get personal.
I hardly believe it, but my self-confidence has steeled so much, I'm able to tied my hair up, all the way UP, tight, neat, a total egg-headed geek, and go to school. In the past I'd at least have tried to mess up my hair a bit, so that locks of it will fall by my face.
But not this time.
I'd also abandoned my contacts and wore my Dickies spectacles. In the past, I'd have worn my contacts, for the sake of looking good, even if they were way past their expiry dates, even if I was sleepy and my eyes hurt.
But, not this time.
Two people said I looked better wearing glasses. Namely, Ervin John and Chong Li Ying. I barely thanked them, because I didn't think it was a big deal. Last year, maybe, I'd have felt really good about it. This time, since I was wearing my spectacles out of disregard for beauty, I didn't care. Still, I must care to a certain degree to have noticed this at all :)
Today, we began our lessons. Pengajian Am (General Paper in Bahasa) has a section where it's simple Mathematics. Just basic statistics, and I had a little fun with them. :D BIG DEAL, alright? I used to hate Mathematics so much I'd cry while doing them. Like I cried practicing the piano once, back when I was suffering in Grade 3.
The only problem I'll have with Pengajian Am is the information. I'm okay with the medium (Bahasa), I'm fine with the interpretation of information, but the information which we are required to retain in our heads, the AM in the Pengajian Am itself, is a big problem. For example, Gangsterism. We were to write on ways to overcome this problem, and for every point, we have to have at least three facts. Facts as in, Acts, Laws, Incidents... Things politicians say... (I don't know why what politicians say are so important.)
It's already a bit frustrating trying to dig out stuff like that on the internet. How annoying it was, trying to sew them together with my points. And for someone to thinks too much, like me, I end up throwing points away because I'd accidentally think of at least three rebuttals to that particular point. I don't like arguing for something I don't want to argue for.
I think I'll end up making my parents spend a fortune on books, because I want the latest texts for all my subjects. For Chemistry alone, there are around six books the teacher told us to get ("If you want to invest!"). Biology and Additional Mathematics are heavy duty subjects as well, so I don't expect less than RM80 for the books required for each.
Cikgu Lim Tong Seng told my mum that if I went for Art Stream, I'd easily (comparatively) score my four flat.
I know. I am so tempted to go for my Art and Languages, and live the last few years of my teenage the way I want to live it. Comfortably, wildly. Night rides, new friends, excitement... Blah. But what happened after that? None of the professions of Art, or Languages, attracts me as much as the practicality of, and the service I can offer as, a doctor.
Facebook will be a very huge factor if I end up distracted from my studies.
Well, have to sign off now. I slept through part of MUET today. My body always feels so drained. I've been taking these Iron and Folic Acid pills, and I have to go back to the doctor to check if they're helping. There's no need to check, even. I can just tell them, NO. My left arm is kind of sore from all those injections.
I like injections. If they jab me some more, I might even come to love them. The feeling of a cold, metal needle under my skin...
It's 10:16pm, sixteen minutes past curfew. Off to bed now. Will be slowly devouring some dream food. I'm always scared of good books. I know they'll manage to make a very painful, permanent mark somewhere in there. :)
10:20pm.
Hurriedly signing off, Carmelia.
Feeling, physically, emotionally, mentally weak.
Thinking, it's weird writing so much and not infesting my words with emoticons.
Friday, May 14, 2010
TMX's Favour
http://www.razerzone.com/getimba-share-n-win/ucb6gdu
So I checked this *points upward* out, but I still don't get it. Nevertheless, Ming Xuan asked for my help, and so I shall help. :D Click on the URL, folks! Thank you very much! <3
Sunday, May 9, 2010
A New Beginning
It isn't a new year, but it sure feels like a renewal for me. Every day is supposed to be a new day, a fresh start, when you decide again on achieving goals. Every morning is God's grace for us to come back to Him, if ever we go astray (if ever? we always do). But I suppose night after nights of sleep has turned dull for each and every one of us. A new morning isn't really new anymore. We've gone stale, and see every dawn as just the sun returning after a journey around the world.
I'm going to school to register myself for Form Six tomorrow.
Back in school, uniformed and rule-bounded. Back in school, where adults have to be greeted when passed and friends are everywhere. Back to canteen food. Back to homework, co-curricular activities, assemblies. And I actually look forward to it.
Things won't be exactly the same. The big difference is that, this time, I am a Sixth Former, the most senior of the entire student body. The highest posts of every club or society council will be filled by Sixth Formers. How much authority is in the hands of the Sixth Seniors? Especially when heading the prefect body?
I am not aiming to perfect or improve my leadership skills much. That will occur naturally, because as a Sixth Senior, I will be required to lead a lot of students in a lot of matters. My mum, who is very deep in the affairs of the Sixth Formers in KK High School, says that most of the teachers treat the new system for the Sixth Formers as an excuse to dump workload on them. I don't mind this much. It's flattering to be depended upon, and I know I'll be pleased that I can be so influential in the planning of many events, such as the school concert and Sports Day.
I do aim for a four flat, though. I really want to do my best academically this time.
I am not one of those people who sees academic excellence as everything. But I do acknowledge the fact that it counts as something, especially because most of the outside world sees it as a very important and telling aspect of an individual. Yes, you can make it big without a degree. Yes, you can achieve success without having straight As. But I am not one of those 'you' who have charisma, are business-minded, or very creative. And so, aside the pressure from my parents and my teachers, a pressure which is so small, I feel, compared to the one I give myself, I really do want that four flat for myself.
This is the rough sketch of my upcoming weekly schedule:
Compare it with what I'd been living the past months:
Free time basically means 'discipline examination time'. I cannot plan what I do during my free time, because what I have to do will differ a lot from time to time. So I will have to make choices, right there and then, whether I goof off, or I do what I'm supposed to get done. Including house chores.
After my piano examination in June/July, I don't plan to further my grade, whether or not I pass Grade 7. I don't plan to take up any other extra music classes. I do plan on learning a few more guitar chords.
Let's make this easy and categorize potential stuff into what I plan to do and what I don't plan to.
I plan to,
1. Get four flat.
2. Get an A for my co-curricular activities, especially in sports (I've noticed that Sports is the most important co-curricular in all those further studies applications I've filled)
3. Play the guitar until the ends of my fingertips are well and truly callused, as all guitarists' fingertips are.
4. Lose some weight. Or, lose A LOT of weight, so that the variety of dresses I can choose from will be wider. (All the ones I like seem to be made for the likes of Melissa & Daphne & Rowena)
5. Be prepared to say yes if Madam Yong asks me to be Mistress of Ceremony again for the annual school concert.
6. Apply to be a prefect.
I don't plan to,
1.Be too active in the co-curricular activities.
2.Perform in the school concert. (School-long dream, gone.)
3.Do anything that will not be worth the merit points it will get me in my co-curriculum card. Basically, only a few points or no black & white recognition? Forget it. (And if any adults still forces me to do it, I will whine and complain about it to mummy and mummy will do things.)
4.Attempt any writing of novels.
5.Take a part-time job (But only because parents don't approve and I can't fit it into my schedule. But otherwise, I'd love to earn my own money.)
Ah. But you know what they say. The best laid of plans can still go awry. Thankfully, I can surrender everything to God and not bear the burden and worries and troubles myself.
The next few days, have to go stationery shopping and uniform shopping. And, I have to start looking for my subject textbooks etc. I want to stop writing now, because Snow White is playing on Disney Channel. Cheers, and thank you for reading and caring enough to read till the end ♥
Hurriedly signing off, Carmelia.
Feeling, happy about stationery shopping.
Thinking, no more internet time for me. But that's okay.
I'm going to school to register myself for Form Six tomorrow.
Back in school, uniformed and rule-bounded. Back in school, where adults have to be greeted when passed and friends are everywhere. Back to canteen food. Back to homework, co-curricular activities, assemblies. And I actually look forward to it.
Things won't be exactly the same. The big difference is that, this time, I am a Sixth Former, the most senior of the entire student body. The highest posts of every club or society council will be filled by Sixth Formers. How much authority is in the hands of the Sixth Seniors? Especially when heading the prefect body?
I am not aiming to perfect or improve my leadership skills much. That will occur naturally, because as a Sixth Senior, I will be required to lead a lot of students in a lot of matters. My mum, who is very deep in the affairs of the Sixth Formers in KK High School, says that most of the teachers treat the new system for the Sixth Formers as an excuse to dump workload on them. I don't mind this much. It's flattering to be depended upon, and I know I'll be pleased that I can be so influential in the planning of many events, such as the school concert and Sports Day.
I do aim for a four flat, though. I really want to do my best academically this time.
I am not one of those people who sees academic excellence as everything. But I do acknowledge the fact that it counts as something, especially because most of the outside world sees it as a very important and telling aspect of an individual. Yes, you can make it big without a degree. Yes, you can achieve success without having straight As. But I am not one of those 'you' who have charisma, are business-minded, or very creative. And so, aside the pressure from my parents and my teachers, a pressure which is so small, I feel, compared to the one I give myself, I really do want that four flat for myself.
This is the rough sketch of my upcoming weekly schedule:
Monday- School till 3pm. Badminton or basketball. Shower, dinner. Study. Sleep.
Tuesday- School till 2pm. Badminton or basketball. Shower, dinner. Study. Sleep.
Wednesday- School till 5pm. Shower, dinner. Church.
Thursday- School till 3pm. Badminton or basketball. Shower, dinner. Study. Sleep.
Friday- School till 12pm. Activities. Youth at night.
Saturday- English class at 1pm to 3pm. Music practice till 5.30pm. Free time!
Sunday- Church. Free time.
Tuesday- School till 2pm. Badminton or basketball. Shower, dinner. Study. Sleep.
Wednesday- School till 5pm. Shower, dinner. Church.
Thursday- School till 3pm. Badminton or basketball. Shower, dinner. Study. Sleep.
Friday- School till 12pm. Activities. Youth at night.
Saturday- English class at 1pm to 3pm. Music practice till 5.30pm. Free time!
Sunday- Church. Free time.
Compare it with what I'd been living the past months:
Week- BLAH!
Free time basically means 'discipline examination time'. I cannot plan what I do during my free time, because what I have to do will differ a lot from time to time. So I will have to make choices, right there and then, whether I goof off, or I do what I'm supposed to get done. Including house chores.
After my piano examination in June/July, I don't plan to further my grade, whether or not I pass Grade 7. I don't plan to take up any other extra music classes. I do plan on learning a few more guitar chords.
Let's make this easy and categorize potential stuff into what I plan to do and what I don't plan to.
I plan to,
1. Get four flat.
2. Get an A for my co-curricular activities, especially in sports (I've noticed that Sports is the most important co-curricular in all those further studies applications I've filled)
3. Play the guitar until the ends of my fingertips are well and truly callused, as all guitarists' fingertips are.
4. Lose some weight. Or, lose A LOT of weight, so that the variety of dresses I can choose from will be wider. (All the ones I like seem to be made for the likes of Melissa & Daphne & Rowena)
5. Be prepared to say yes if Madam Yong asks me to be Mistress of Ceremony again for the annual school concert.
6. Apply to be a prefect.
I don't plan to,
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
Ah. But you know what they say. The best laid of plans can still go awry. Thankfully, I can surrender everything to God and not bear the burden and worries and troubles myself.
The next few days, have to go stationery shopping and uniform shopping. And, I have to start looking for my subject textbooks etc. I want to stop writing now, because Snow White is playing on Disney Channel. Cheers, and thank you for reading and caring enough to read till the end ♥
Hurriedly signing off, Carmelia.
Feeling, happy about stationery shopping.
Thinking, no more internet time for me. But that's okay.
Thursday, May 6, 2010
Automatic Dishwashing Service
Minutes ago, my mum suddenly came into the room. I'm not sure what happened, it was just a blur of anger and irritation. I think it was about how I only sit at the computer and I don't help her do the housework. I immediately stood up and tried to do something. I could not just sit in front of the computer listening to my mum talk about how useless I am while she washes the mugs in the kitchen. I'd just be proving her point.
So I washed the mugs.
This isn't the first time this has happened. And by this, I mean my mum going ballistic over some house chores I haven't done automatically.
Firstly, I'd like to say that I am to be blamed. I should do more house chores without being told. What else is there to say?
My only justification is that I wasn't trained to do house chores automatically. I've been trying to do what they tell me to do without a word and I think I'm improving. And then another problem comes up.
"Oh, I should do house chores WITHOUT being told. I see."
So now I have to readjust my attitude and do the house chores automatically. I will try. It won't be easy, but I will try my best!
So, now that I have the logical, practical part of the solution sorted out...
I feel bad. Over the past few days, three people have managed to cause me to lie in bed, unable to sleep, thinking about them and the problem they see in me. The conclusion that I am problematic keeps coming up.
No one is perfect. Yes. But that's a whole lot easier to hear than, I am problematic. Means the same time, basically: Humans have flaws. But while the first is forgiving and encouraging, the latter hurts.
For someone who's supposed to write a lot and be in tune with her thoughts and emotions, there's way too much about myself that I don't know. One of the most mysterious things for me about myself is how much stress I can handle. I think I can handle stress. I am one to preach about how emotions are manipulative and illogical; to do the right thing, just ignore your emotions and think with your head. And so, I practice that. When stress comes, I try not to freak. When stress comes, I let it out instead of keeping it in. It is logical, isn't it, to release stress?
Maybe my way of releasing stress isn't effective enough. Or maybe that stress is so much more stubborn than I thought it was.
It has been more than only a few times I'd exploded from stress. And I never even knew I was stressed. Recently, we had this Easter presentation. I had to go out to give a little introduction speech. After everything was over, people were coming up to me and saying that it was great, it was awesome, and... Am I okay?
My point is that I have absolutely no idea how I'm coping with this problem. What problem? Well, I'm not sure, but there seems to be definitely a problem.
This was what my dad sent to me after the little episode with mum:
Get to bed at or before 11pm.
&
You may not agree to sleep at 11pm... But when you can balance house works and computer then should be no problem. Not difficult to be a good daughter just obey a bit la or learn to obey from now... This Sunday is Mother's Day... Hope your present is to obey mum more... That is your mum's most wanted hope...
&
Sometimes very unwilling... Aiya! Just give a bit of hope and happiness to mum... If this message you think never change anything so... Try to think when mum fight with me to get money for your Singapore camp... Your style always nevermind and not care... Please think about what you can do for your mum... I can tell you that a blessing from a mother is much more than your god! Your heaven is blessing from your parents...
&
Just wash the glasses and mangkuk on the table and sink... Mop the floor and hang the clothes to dry and fold clothes mah... If really do... Half an hour finish... Half an hour can change a little bit of happiness from your mum... Worthy loh... Sure we more sayang you...
I conclude that I am very ignorant. I am too ignorant to see that there are house chores to be done. I am too ignorant to see that I should have automatically finished the house chores. I am too ignorant to see that if I don't realize I have to do chores without being asked, then I am considered disobedient BY DEFAULT. Doesn't matter what verbal requests I obeyed. It's the non-verbal requests that count.
It's like the unwritten rule that men must understand what the ladies want without the ladies having to say anything.
If only I can tell the pastor, this is the reason why I was so reluctant to push my father to let me go to Singapore Camp. I am very certain that the camp will be awesome and filled with God's presence. I know. But I just don't want to press my parents. I don't want to, partly because I can sense money's a bit tight recently, and partly because I KNOW I haven't been the most perfect daughter lately. What right have I to push them to let me go on a trip to Singapore for RM800?
Oh, no. Now, now it is revealed to me that the reason I am going is not because money is available. Now I know my mum FOUGHT with my dad so that I can go.
I appreciate that very much, mum. I love you. Thank you. But can you please tell daddy that I'm not as desperate to go as he thinks I am?
Not difficult to be a good daughter. To be. It's like, I am not yet a good daughter. How can I be? A daughter who talks back, doesn't do house chores, has a room that's oh-gawd-level messy, and STILL has the nerve to ask for RM800 to go to an unnecessary camp?
I feel better now. Nigel saw my Facebook post and he sent me a nice text. Thanks, Nigel.
Also, letting things out this way is good. I see things in perspective. I think. I don't know. I'm not sure. I'm never sure about anything. God, help me.
It's 10:52pm. I have eight more minutes.
Form Six is starting next week. Whatever the stream I'll end up in, one thing is for sure: My mum will have one more reason to disturb my time on the computer. So far, during my vacation, the only things that she can tell me to do are house chores and piano practices. Now I'm diving back into school, there will be schoolwork and revision. Don't get me wrong, please. My mum is very lenient, and she isn't those controlling type of parent who wants all As.
Or is she? Ever since my brother's grades started worrying her, she'd been getting on all three of our nerves regarding academic performances. But I thank God for that, I guess, even though sometimes I act like I hate it. I need the push.
My dad is a whole different story. I practically grew up without a dad. I don't know if that affected, or affects, our relationship. I really dislike it when he starts talking as though he knows me. He's one of the few people in the world, probably the only sometimes, who can make me crumple up and cry by just saying a few words. Recently, this happens not because I'm touched, but because I'm too frustrated, but I can't say anything, so this really painful swelling occurs at the back of my throat and forces tears out. Tears of anger. He tells me to be a good daughter, why can't I be a good daughter, why do I always have to talk back, why am I so defensive, why is my attitude so rotten?
11:01pm. Oh gawd. So I guess I'm not going to heaven?
Signed, Carmelia.
Feeling, slightly stressed. Unstable.
Thinking, how the hell am I supposed to sleep tonight? It's not even 12 yet.
So I washed the mugs.
This isn't the first time this has happened. And by this, I mean my mum going ballistic over some house chores I haven't done automatically.
Firstly, I'd like to say that I am to be blamed. I should do more house chores without being told. What else is there to say?
My only justification is that I wasn't trained to do house chores automatically. I've been trying to do what they tell me to do without a word and I think I'm improving. And then another problem comes up.
"Oh, I should do house chores WITHOUT being told. I see."
So now I have to readjust my attitude and do the house chores automatically. I will try. It won't be easy, but I will try my best!
So, now that I have the logical, practical part of the solution sorted out...
I feel bad. Over the past few days, three people have managed to cause me to lie in bed, unable to sleep, thinking about them and the problem they see in me. The conclusion that I am problematic keeps coming up.
No one is perfect. Yes. But that's a whole lot easier to hear than, I am problematic. Means the same time, basically: Humans have flaws. But while the first is forgiving and encouraging, the latter hurts.
For someone who's supposed to write a lot and be in tune with her thoughts and emotions, there's way too much about myself that I don't know. One of the most mysterious things for me about myself is how much stress I can handle. I think I can handle stress. I am one to preach about how emotions are manipulative and illogical; to do the right thing, just ignore your emotions and think with your head. And so, I practice that. When stress comes, I try not to freak. When stress comes, I let it out instead of keeping it in. It is logical, isn't it, to release stress?
Maybe my way of releasing stress isn't effective enough. Or maybe that stress is so much more stubborn than I thought it was.
It has been more than only a few times I'd exploded from stress. And I never even knew I was stressed. Recently, we had this Easter presentation. I had to go out to give a little introduction speech. After everything was over, people were coming up to me and saying that it was great, it was awesome, and... Am I okay?
My point is that I have absolutely no idea how I'm coping with this problem. What problem? Well, I'm not sure, but there seems to be definitely a problem.
This was what my dad sent to me after the little episode with mum:
Get to bed at or before 11pm.
&
You may not agree to sleep at 11pm... But when you can balance house works and computer then should be no problem. Not difficult to be a good daughter just obey a bit la or learn to obey from now... This Sunday is Mother's Day... Hope your present is to obey mum more... That is your mum's most wanted hope...
&
Sometimes very unwilling... Aiya! Just give a bit of hope and happiness to mum... If this message you think never change anything so... Try to think when mum fight with me to get money for your Singapore camp... Your style always nevermind and not care... Please think about what you can do for your mum... I can tell you that a blessing from a mother is much more than your god! Your heaven is blessing from your parents...
&
Just wash the glasses and mangkuk on the table and sink... Mop the floor and hang the clothes to dry and fold clothes mah... If really do... Half an hour finish... Half an hour can change a little bit of happiness from your mum... Worthy loh... Sure we more sayang you...
I conclude that I am very ignorant. I am too ignorant to see that there are house chores to be done. I am too ignorant to see that I should have automatically finished the house chores. I am too ignorant to see that if I don't realize I have to do chores without being asked, then I am considered disobedient BY DEFAULT. Doesn't matter what verbal requests I obeyed. It's the non-verbal requests that count.
It's like the unwritten rule that men must understand what the ladies want without the ladies having to say anything.
If only I can tell the pastor, this is the reason why I was so reluctant to push my father to let me go to Singapore Camp. I am very certain that the camp will be awesome and filled with God's presence. I know. But I just don't want to press my parents. I don't want to, partly because I can sense money's a bit tight recently, and partly because I KNOW I haven't been the most perfect daughter lately. What right have I to push them to let me go on a trip to Singapore for RM800?
Oh, no. Now, now it is revealed to me that the reason I am going is not because money is available. Now I know my mum FOUGHT with my dad so that I can go.
I appreciate that very much, mum. I love you. Thank you. But can you please tell daddy that I'm not as desperate to go as he thinks I am?
Not difficult to be a good daughter. To be. It's like, I am not yet a good daughter. How can I be? A daughter who talks back, doesn't do house chores, has a room that's oh-gawd-level messy, and STILL has the nerve to ask for RM800 to go to an unnecessary camp?
I feel better now. Nigel saw my Facebook post and he sent me a nice text. Thanks, Nigel.
Also, letting things out this way is good. I see things in perspective. I think. I don't know. I'm not sure. I'm never sure about anything. God, help me.
It's 10:52pm. I have eight more minutes.
Form Six is starting next week. Whatever the stream I'll end up in, one thing is for sure: My mum will have one more reason to disturb my time on the computer. So far, during my vacation, the only things that she can tell me to do are house chores and piano practices. Now I'm diving back into school, there will be schoolwork and revision. Don't get me wrong, please. My mum is very lenient, and she isn't those controlling type of parent who wants all As.
Or is she? Ever since my brother's grades started worrying her, she'd been getting on all three of our nerves regarding academic performances. But I thank God for that, I guess, even though sometimes I act like I hate it. I need the push.
My dad is a whole different story. I practically grew up without a dad. I don't know if that affected, or affects, our relationship. I really dislike it when he starts talking as though he knows me. He's one of the few people in the world, probably the only sometimes, who can make me crumple up and cry by just saying a few words. Recently, this happens not because I'm touched, but because I'm too frustrated, but I can't say anything, so this really painful swelling occurs at the back of my throat and forces tears out. Tears of anger. He tells me to be a good daughter, why can't I be a good daughter, why do I always have to talk back, why am I so defensive, why is my attitude so rotten?
11:01pm. Oh gawd. So I guess I'm not going to heaven?
Signed, Carmelia.
Feeling, slightly stressed. Unstable.
Thinking, how the hell am I supposed to sleep tonight? It's not even 12 yet.
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Mandarin Self-Survey
I'd translate the Mandarin. But I'm not going to because I'm not so sure what everything means.
Fine. I'm lazy.
FINE. I'LL TRANSLATE. But only because it'll be fun.
1.被點到必填，不填代表你不尊重傳給你的人和問卷。
(People tag you. You no do survey, you no respect tag you that people.)
2.請老實的回答每一個問題。
(No cheat.)
3.不行擅自塗改題目。
(No change questions.)
4.寫完請點8位朋友，不可不點。
(Finish write, must tag eight friends.)
5.點完後請通知那8位小朋友他被點到了。
(Tag finish, let 8 friends know.)
。。。。個 人 題 - 10 題。。。。 (about me! 10 questions)
01 你叫什么: (You call?)
::Carmelia Yong
02 你的綽號： (You nickname what?)
::Melia
03 你的血型：(Blood what type?)
:: O type
04 你的星座：(What star sign?)
:: Libra.
05 你是男還是女：(Boy or girl?)
:: Girl.
06 你幾歲：(How old?)
:: 17 going on 18.
07 你住哪裡：(Where live?)
:: Kota Kinabalu.
08 你現在的學校 ：(Now school where?)
:: Kota Kinabalu High School. Starting next week, anyway.
09 你有沒有手機 ：(Have handphone?)
:: Yes.
10 承上，那是多少： (How many?)
:: What?
朋 友 題 - 10 題。。。。 (about friends! 2 questions)
11 你最要好的朋友（限１個）： (Bestfriend! One only!)
:: Jesus!
12 你最討厭的人（限１個）： (Hate which people? One only!)
:: Satan.
情 題 - 10 題。。。。 (about romance! 10 questions)
21 你有沒有喜歡的人： (You have like anyone or not?)
:: Yes!
23 如果没有，你希望什麼時候有另一半： (If don't have, when you want got?)
:: I have.
24 到目前為止，你跟多少人告白過： (Until now, how many people you confess love?)
:: One.
25 到目前為止，你被多少人告白過：(Until now, how many people confess you love?)
:: Two.
26 到目前為止，你交過多少個男／女朋友： (Until now, how many boyfriend?)
:: One?
27 你現在有另一半嗎: (Now you have other half?)
:: No.
28 你最好的同性朋友跟你告白你會怎樣： (Your best friend same sex confess love you, how?)
:: Freak out.
29 你初戀情人突然跟你告白你會接受嗎 : (You first love confess love to you, you accept?)
:: I don't know.
30 你為什麼會喜歡你現在喜歡的人: (Why you like the people you like now?)
:: I like a lot of people for a lot of reasons.
31 你和另一半牽手過嗎: (You and other half got hold hands?)
:: No other half.
32 你和另一半抱或親過嗎: (You and other half got hug or kissey before?)
:: No other half.
33 你跟異性牽手過嗎： (Got hold boy-boy hand?)
:: Yes.
34 是誰，你們什麼關係：(Who? What relationship?)
:: Ka Howe. Ex-boyfriend.
35 現在有人在追你嗎： (Now got people chase you?)
:: No.
。。。。混 合 題 - 10 題。。。。 (combination! 10 questions)
36 如果有天，好朋友離你而去，你會怎樣： (One day, bestfriend go away. You how?)
:: Miserable but will get over it.
37 如果有天，好朋友背叛你，你會：(One day, bestfriend CHEAT you. You how?)
:: Maybe get angry. But I'll forgive and forget anyway. I don't have any other alternative.
38 如果有天，好朋友對你喜新厭舊了，你會：(One day, bestfriend tired of you. You how?)
:: Be hurt but it's okay.
39 如果你很受不了你的父母，你會離家出走嗎：(If you no stand parents, you runaway?)
:: I might.
40 你上課認真嗎 ：(You in class study serious?)
:: Sometimes.
41 你功課好不好：(Your homework good?)
:: Not good.
42 你开电腦都在幹麻：(You open computer do what?)
:: Facebook, blog, write stories, listen to music.
43 你的即时通有多少个同性: (How many same sex?)
:: What?
44 你的即時通裡有多少個異性：(How many different sex?)
:: My Mandarin kind of sucks.
兇 手 題 - 10 題。。。。
45 傳給你這份問卷的人是誰： (Who tag you?)
:: Nicholas Tay the Horsey.
46 这個人對你好不好：(This person good to you?)
:: Yes, very.
47 這個人是你的誰：(Who this person to you?)
:: Cute abang friend :D
48 你有喜歡過這個人嗎：(You got like this person?)
:: Of course! He's very likeable.
49 你們認識多久了: (How long you know that person?)
:: I think one year.
50 這個人是怎樣的人: (This person how?)
:: Good. Cute. Tall. Weird.
51 這個人正／帥嗎: (This person handsome?)
:: Handsome!
52 這個人跟你有沒有在一起过：(You got together with this person?)
:: No.
53 萬一你喜歡這個人，你會怎麼办：(If you like this person, how?)
:: Just stay silent about it, like I always do. It will go away. Like it always does.
聯 想 題 - 10 題。。。。
56 說到正妹你會想到誰：(Say, pretty girl, you think of?)
:: Melissa Chong!
57 說到帥哥你會想到誰：(Say, handsome boy, you think of?)
:: A lot of boys.
58 說到憨你會想到誰：(Say, 憨, you think of?)
:: I don't know what is 憨.
59 說到痴你會想到誰：(Say, stupid, you think of?)
:: Me.
60 說到暗戀你會想到誰：(Say, crush, you think of?)
:: David Archuleta!
61 說到出去玩你會想到誰：(Say, go out play, think of?)
:: Jerry Yong!
62 說到聰明鬼你會想到誰：(Say, intelligent ghost, you think of?)
:: Erm. Casper?
63 說到傻子你會想到誰: (Say, crazy, you think of?)
:: ...Nana.
64 說到笑點低你會想到誰: (Say, funny, you think of?)
:: Oh, a lot. Wong Chik Kien, Gazu Shak, Jinho, etc...
65 說到愛笑你會想到誰 : (Say, love to laugh, think of?)
:: Me. Always me. I always love to laugh. Nothing to laugh about, I'll still laugh.
學 校 題 - 11 題。。。。 (school, 10 questions!)
66 你的班導是誰：(Your class monitor is?)
:: No class, no class monitor. Yet.
67 你的座位是第幾排第幾個：(In class, where sit?)
:: Second last column to the right, first row.
68 你最喜歡的老師是誰：(What teacher you like most?)
:: Teo Shir Ming.
70 你的英文好嗎：(English, good?)
:: Yes. Unlike yours.
71 你的體育好嗎：(Your body, good?)
:: Not fit.
72 你的数学好么：(Your Mathematics, good?)
:: Bad. Very bad.
73 你喜不喜歡你的校長：(You like your principal?)
:: Erm.
74 你的學校好看嗎：(Your school pretty?)
:: Very pretty!
75 你的班級是： (What class?)
:: No class yet!
76 你的班級在幾樓：(What floor class?)
:: Not yet.
Note: Kinda in a rush at the end there, because I am currently FREAKING SCARED of my mum coming downstairs and finding me at the computer again like last night. This survey isn't very fun to read, sorry. It was kind of weird for me too. Like I was being interviewed by some Chinese abeng wearing sunglasses.
Scared, Carmelia.
Feeling, scared.
Thinking, mummy please don't wake up, please don't wake up CARMELIA TYPE FASTER!
Fine. I'm lazy.
FINE. I'LL TRANSLATE. But only because it'll be fun.
1.被點到必填，不填代表你不尊重傳給你的人和問卷。
(People tag you. You no do survey, you no respect tag you that people.)
2.請老實的回答每一個問題。
(No cheat.)
3.不行擅自塗改題目。
(No change questions.)
4.寫完請點8位朋友，不可不點。
(Finish write, must tag eight friends.)
5.點完後請通知那8位小朋友他被點到了。
(Tag finish, let 8 friends know.)
。。。。個 人 題 - 10 題。。。。 (about me! 10 questions)
01 你叫什么: (You call?)
::Carmelia Yong
02 你的綽號： (You nickname what?)
::Melia
03 你的血型：(Blood what type?)
:: O type
04 你的星座：(What star sign?)
:: Libra.
05 你是男還是女：(Boy or girl?)
:: Girl.
06 你幾歲：(How old?)
:: 17 going on 18.
07 你住哪裡：(Where live?)
:: Kota Kinabalu.
08 你現在的學校 ：(Now school where?)
:: Kota Kinabalu High School. Starting next week, anyway.
09 你有沒有手機 ：(Have handphone?)
:: Yes.
10 承上，那是多少： (How many?)
:: What?
朋 友 題 - 10 題。。。。 (about friends! 2 questions)
11 你最要好的朋友（限１個）： (Bestfriend! One only!)
:: Jesus!
12 你最討厭的人（限１個）： (Hate which people? One only!)
:: Satan.
情 題 - 10 題。。。。 (about romance! 10 questions)
21 你有沒有喜歡的人： (You have like anyone or not?)
:: Yes!
23 如果没有，你希望什麼時候有另一半： (If don't have, when you want got?)
:: I have.
24 到目前為止，你跟多少人告白過： (Until now, how many people you confess love?)
:: One.
25 到目前為止，你被多少人告白過：(Until now, how many people confess you love?)
:: Two.
26 到目前為止，你交過多少個男／女朋友： (Until now, how many boyfriend?)
:: One?
27 你現在有另一半嗎: (Now you have other half?)
:: No.
28 你最好的同性朋友跟你告白你會怎樣： (Your best friend same sex confess love you, how?)
:: Freak out.
29 你初戀情人突然跟你告白你會接受嗎 : (You first love confess love to you, you accept?)
:: I don't know.
30 你為什麼會喜歡你現在喜歡的人: (Why you like the people you like now?)
:: I like a lot of people for a lot of reasons.
31 你和另一半牽手過嗎: (You and other half got hold hands?)
:: No other half.
32 你和另一半抱或親過嗎: (You and other half got hug or kissey before?)
:: No other half.
33 你跟異性牽手過嗎： (Got hold boy-boy hand?)
:: Yes.
34 是誰，你們什麼關係：(Who? What relationship?)
:: Ka Howe. Ex-boyfriend.
35 現在有人在追你嗎： (Now got people chase you?)
:: No.
。。。。混 合 題 - 10 題。。。。 (combination! 10 questions)
36 如果有天，好朋友離你而去，你會怎樣： (One day, bestfriend go away. You how?)
:: Miserable but will get over it.
37 如果有天，好朋友背叛你，你會：(One day, bestfriend CHEAT you. You how?)
:: Maybe get angry. But I'll forgive and forget anyway. I don't have any other alternative.
38 如果有天，好朋友對你喜新厭舊了，你會：(One day, bestfriend tired of you. You how?)
:: Be hurt but it's okay.
39 如果你很受不了你的父母，你會離家出走嗎：(If you no stand parents, you runaway?)
:: I might.
40 你上課認真嗎 ：(You in class study serious?)
:: Sometimes.
41 你功課好不好：(Your homework good?)
:: Not good.
42 你开电腦都在幹麻：(You open computer do what?)
:: Facebook, blog, write stories, listen to music.
43 你的即时通有多少个同性: (How many same sex?)
:: What?
44 你的即時通裡有多少個異性：(How many different sex?)
:: My Mandarin kind of sucks.
兇 手 題 - 10 題。。。。
45 傳給你這份問卷的人是誰： (Who tag you?)
:: Nicholas Tay the Horsey.
46 这個人對你好不好：(This person good to you?)
:: Yes, very.
47 這個人是你的誰：(Who this person to you?)
:: Cute abang friend :D
48 你有喜歡過這個人嗎：(You got like this person?)
:: Of course! He's very likeable.
49 你們認識多久了: (How long you know that person?)
:: I think one year.
50 這個人是怎樣的人: (This person how?)
:: Good. Cute. Tall. Weird.
51 這個人正／帥嗎: (This person handsome?)
:: Handsome!
52 這個人跟你有沒有在一起过：(You got together with this person?)
:: No.
53 萬一你喜歡這個人，你會怎麼办：(If you like this person, how?)
:: Just stay silent about it, like I always do. It will go away. Like it always does.
聯 想 題 - 10 題。。。。
56 說到正妹你會想到誰：(Say, pretty girl, you think of?)
:: Melissa Chong!
57 說到帥哥你會想到誰：(Say, handsome boy, you think of?)
:: A lot of boys.
58 說到憨你會想到誰：(Say, 憨, you think of?)
:: I don't know what is 憨.
59 說到痴你會想到誰：(Say, stupid, you think of?)
:: Me.
60 說到暗戀你會想到誰：(Say, crush, you think of?)
:: David Archuleta!
61 說到出去玩你會想到誰：(Say, go out play, think of?)
:: Jerry Yong!
62 說到聰明鬼你會想到誰：(Say, intelligent ghost, you think of?)
:: Erm. Casper?
63 說到傻子你會想到誰: (Say, crazy, you think of?)
:: ...Nana.
64 說到笑點低你會想到誰: (Say, funny, you think of?)
:: Oh, a lot. Wong Chik Kien, Gazu Shak, Jinho, etc...
65 說到愛笑你會想到誰 : (Say, love to laugh, think of?)
:: Me. Always me. I always love to laugh. Nothing to laugh about, I'll still laugh.
學 校 題 - 11 題。。。。 (school, 10 questions!)
66 你的班導是誰：(Your class monitor is?)
:: No class, no class monitor. Yet.
67 你的座位是第幾排第幾個：(In class, where sit?)
:: Second last column to the right, first row.
68 你最喜歡的老師是誰：(What teacher you like most?)
:: Teo Shir Ming.
70 你的英文好嗎：(English, good?)
:: Yes. Unlike yours.
71 你的體育好嗎：(Your body, good?)
:: Not fit.
72 你的数学好么：(Your Mathematics, good?)
:: Bad. Very bad.
73 你喜不喜歡你的校長：(You like your principal?)
:: Erm.
74 你的學校好看嗎：(Your school pretty?)
:: Very pretty!
75 你的班級是： (What class?)
:: No class yet!
76 你的班級在幾樓：(What floor class?)
:: Not yet.
Note: Kinda in a rush at the end there, because I am currently FREAKING SCARED of my mum coming downstairs and finding me at the computer again like last night. This survey isn't very fun to read, sorry. It was kind of weird for me too. Like I was being interviewed by some Chinese abeng wearing sunglasses.
Scared, Carmelia.
Feeling, scared.
Thinking, mummy please don't wake up, please don't wake up CARMELIA TYPE FASTER!
Organization.
I am trying to write something. A very organized article, for example, about a particular topic. Or at least, somewhat organized. From ten minutes ago, I've been sitting in front of the blaring screen, thinking about what to write. I am not writing for the sake of writing. I am trying to write because there are a multitude of thoughts buzzing about in my mind now, and my heart feels like lead. Heavy and cold, but heated up the friction caused in my mind. (Translated? I am thinking too much and making myself feel worse.)
So, I need to let something out. I always need to let something out. I have this inexplicable need to express myself. And to express myself and actually feel it working, it needs to be something that people, or at least I myself, can take a step back and understand. So, it needs to be something even remotely organized.
But organization never has been my strong point. I am not an organized girl. I am a very messed up girl. My head is messy, my heart is messy, my room is messy. Even as I write this, at almost every word, there is a potential topic branching out. Imagine a long twig forking out from all the spaces in this paragraph alone. Imagine a piece of blow-painted paper. I think like that. I feel like that.
The things that come out of the mouth, come from the heart. How can anything I produce be organized, then?
My main problem in Literature class was organization. Because I could not organize my thoughts, I could not pick out the main points, which cost me even more marks. Or was it the other way round, that I could not figure out the main points, thus had nothing to organize?
I have my neat points. I have been organized before, those few times when I was forced to be. For example, while arranging points for our debate team. Do you have any idea how sharp and organized you have to be, to argue in front of a crowd with an opponent whose only aim is to disprove you? My mind was in turmoil those few days- but somewhere in front, the small part that was in immediate use, everything was neat and filed properly. I knew my points, I knew what connected to what, and where everything was. It was a miracle. We won. Guess what messed me up at the end? The neatness was gone. I started blabbing and supporting my opponents. Gone case.
The other example was when we were entering this competition to design an environmental Board Game. As everyone knows, all Board Games have rules. No rules, no fun. No GOOD rules, no fun. So, the rules had to be good. It was like Mathematics, frankly. We did it. We managed to come up with something that worked so objectively, it was a success. The game was fair, but at the same time, loose enough to be fun.
I wonder, times like those, why I can't be that organized all the time. Keep track of things that happen around me, instead of being so blur. Take more initiatives to find things out. Make the effort to get everything working like clockwork. CARE that everything works like clockwork. Keep a schedule and actually stick to it for at least a month. Know where my money is going and coming from.
I can't say I tried, because I never really did try to be more organized. My excuses are aplenty. My favorite is that, being something I'm not, stresses me out. And you will hate a stressed out Carmelia, because a stressed out Carmelia is an impolite, harsh, moody Carmelia. I have many instances that support this. I'd actually snapped at someone to shut up once, while I was trying to get things organized during youth. And I'd never realized it, not until my sister told me about it. How many people had gotten offended by that Mr. Hyde version of me? Should not be too many, because I rarely let myself get into situations like that.
When you attempt to organize things, maybe it isn't that difficult. But people? That's a whole other story. A story I hate so much. I don't like handling people because I don't know how to handle them without breaking anything. I am not tactful. I am sensitive to receive, but not sensitive to give.
Someone accused me of lording and being a leader over them when I don't have the authority to be. If only they knew how much I disliked being in charge of people. Organizing people is one of my worst abilities.
Organizing my novels always breaks me down. My failures are rooted in that one failure to organize. I don't know what I want to write, I always change my mind, the plot always gets lost in subplots and all the subplots always gang up on the main plot.
I'd almost failed English Essay once, because I attempted to write a story which I had to wrap up weirdly, abruptly. The second time, same story. I never tried a third time. I was fed up of feeling sick of myself and my disorganized brain.
That's another thing that I have yet to figure out. My feelings. They have failed me, FAILED me so, so many times.
Emotions are like booze. They make you wake up the next morning with a hangover and wondering why the hack you allowed it to influence you.
Anger, sadness. The feeling of being hurt. Misery. Romance. Happy feelings. Highness. The mysterious feelings evoked when I hear my favorite songs. All of you have been there, done that. All of us are there right now, and doing that. And my reactions to them, again and again, did not consult logic and practicality before they are stamped and executed. God willing, things end up okay. God willing, they don't, to teach me a lesson.
Right now, I have to keep reminding myself to stick to the topic, and not veer off like some drunkard in a fifty-year-old car.
I have a friend whose room has a messy idea breeding ground for him (Lord knows what that means.) My idea breeding ground is Facebook. Perhaps, I'll get some fertilizer from the statuses my friends post. It doesn't matter, because that empty, white box is enough for my brain to start working itself silly.
Thinking of what to post as my status sometimes can mean an hour of soul-searching before I finally decide on a select choice of words. I never want my statuses to turn up mediocre, but they do anyway. That doesn't stop me from trying again and again to post something worthy enough to represent who I am. That something does not even have to be worthy, come to think about it. It just has to be correct.
And rarely any description I have of myself can be found to be correct after further consideration. There is always something wrong with the description, an 'if', or a 'but not when'.
So I end up posting the most organized form of my feelings: Lyrics. Music that could work like smoke into my emotions, soak itself into them, and still come out neat and tidy in the form of words, drumbeats and melodies. I don't need to think. Screw thoughts. All I have to do to express myself is choose my favorite piece of music, borrow the lyrics that they're attached to, and express those lyrics. Extra points if those words can correctly mirror my thoughts and/or emotions. If not, they'd still represent the real me, just because I love them enough to let them speak for me.
And the bottom line is? I don't even know what I'm talking about anymore.
The under-the-bottom line is? I am anchored to sanity by only one: Jesus.
Always confused, Carmelia.
Feeling, tired.
Thinking, tired of thinking.
Westlife- More Than Words
Edit: Now that I think about it, the reason I broke off from my last blog was because I found everything too... Well. Messy.
So, I need to let something out. I always need to let something out. I have this inexplicable need to express myself. And to express myself and actually feel it working, it needs to be something that people, or at least I myself, can take a step back and understand. So, it needs to be something even remotely organized.
But organization never has been my strong point. I am not an organized girl. I am a very messed up girl. My head is messy, my heart is messy, my room is messy. Even as I write this, at almost every word, there is a potential topic branching out. Imagine a long twig forking out from all the spaces in this paragraph alone. Imagine a piece of blow-painted paper. I think like that. I feel like that.
The things that come out of the mouth, come from the heart. How can anything I produce be organized, then?
My main problem in Literature class was organization. Because I could not organize my thoughts, I could not pick out the main points, which cost me even more marks. Or was it the other way round, that I could not figure out the main points, thus had nothing to organize?
I have my neat points. I have been organized before, those few times when I was forced to be. For example, while arranging points for our debate team. Do you have any idea how sharp and organized you have to be, to argue in front of a crowd with an opponent whose only aim is to disprove you? My mind was in turmoil those few days- but somewhere in front, the small part that was in immediate use, everything was neat and filed properly. I knew my points, I knew what connected to what, and where everything was. It was a miracle. We won. Guess what messed me up at the end? The neatness was gone. I started blabbing and supporting my opponents. Gone case.
The other example was when we were entering this competition to design an environmental Board Game. As everyone knows, all Board Games have rules. No rules, no fun. No GOOD rules, no fun. So, the rules had to be good. It was like Mathematics, frankly. We did it. We managed to come up with something that worked so objectively, it was a success. The game was fair, but at the same time, loose enough to be fun.
I wonder, times like those, why I can't be that organized all the time. Keep track of things that happen around me, instead of being so blur. Take more initiatives to find things out. Make the effort to get everything working like clockwork. CARE that everything works like clockwork. Keep a schedule and actually stick to it for at least a month. Know where my money is going and coming from.
I can't say I tried, because I never really did try to be more organized. My excuses are aplenty. My favorite is that, being something I'm not, stresses me out. And you will hate a stressed out Carmelia, because a stressed out Carmelia is an impolite, harsh, moody Carmelia. I have many instances that support this. I'd actually snapped at someone to shut up once, while I was trying to get things organized during youth. And I'd never realized it, not until my sister told me about it. How many people had gotten offended by that Mr. Hyde version of me? Should not be too many, because I rarely let myself get into situations like that.
When you attempt to organize things, maybe it isn't that difficult. But people? That's a whole other story. A story I hate so much. I don't like handling people because I don't know how to handle them without breaking anything. I am not tactful. I am sensitive to receive, but not sensitive to give.
Someone accused me of lording and being a leader over them when I don't have the authority to be. If only they knew how much I disliked being in charge of people. Organizing people is one of my worst abilities.
Organizing my novels always breaks me down. My failures are rooted in that one failure to organize. I don't know what I want to write, I always change my mind, the plot always gets lost in subplots and all the subplots always gang up on the main plot.
I'd almost failed English Essay once, because I attempted to write a story which I had to wrap up weirdly, abruptly. The second time, same story. I never tried a third time. I was fed up of feeling sick of myself and my disorganized brain.
That's another thing that I have yet to figure out. My feelings. They have failed me, FAILED me so, so many times.
Emotions are like booze. They make you wake up the next morning with a hangover and wondering why the hack you allowed it to influence you.
Anger, sadness. The feeling of being hurt. Misery. Romance. Happy feelings. Highness. The mysterious feelings evoked when I hear my favorite songs. All of you have been there, done that. All of us are there right now, and doing that. And my reactions to them, again and again, did not consult logic and practicality before they are stamped and executed. God willing, things end up okay. God willing, they don't, to teach me a lesson.
Right now, I have to keep reminding myself to stick to the topic, and not veer off like some drunkard in a fifty-year-old car.
I have a friend whose room has a messy idea breeding ground for him (Lord knows what that means.) My idea breeding ground is Facebook. Perhaps, I'll get some fertilizer from the statuses my friends post. It doesn't matter, because that empty, white box is enough for my brain to start working itself silly.
Thinking of what to post as my status sometimes can mean an hour of soul-searching before I finally decide on a select choice of words. I never want my statuses to turn up mediocre, but they do anyway. That doesn't stop me from trying again and again to post something worthy enough to represent who I am. That something does not even have to be worthy, come to think about it. It just has to be correct.
And rarely any description I have of myself can be found to be correct after further consideration. There is always something wrong with the description, an 'if', or a 'but not when'.
So I end up posting the most organized form of my feelings: Lyrics. Music that could work like smoke into my emotions, soak itself into them, and still come out neat and tidy in the form of words, drumbeats and melodies. I don't need to think. Screw thoughts. All I have to do to express myself is choose my favorite piece of music, borrow the lyrics that they're attached to, and express those lyrics. Extra points if those words can correctly mirror my thoughts and/or emotions. If not, they'd still represent the real me, just because I love them enough to let them speak for me.
And the bottom line is? I don't even know what I'm talking about anymore.
The under-the-bottom line is? I am anchored to sanity by only one: Jesus.
Always confused, Carmelia.
Feeling, tired.
Thinking, tired of thinking.
Westlife- More Than Words
Edit: Now that I think about it, the reason I broke off from my last blog was because I found everything too... Well. Messy.
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