Tuesday, August 8, 2017

Once a month I question the meaning of life, get irritated at the drop of a hat, and feel pretty despondent. At least I think it's once a month.

I remember when my grandfather was dying and my mom was speeding to the hospital. Someone honked us and she rolled down the window and screamed, "My father is dying!!"

I thought, just because something terrible is happening in our lives doesn't make it okay for us to do whatever we want and be unnecessarily confrontational/rude. Because there is always something happening in everyone's life.

But it also doesn't change the fact that we do it anyway. 'I've had a terrible day, so I can snap at my family when I come home.' Or, 'I've just been fired from work, so I can snarl at the cashier.' 'My exams are coming, so I can get mad when I don't get the things I want—aren't I supposed to be in top condition for the paper?'

We do it all the time. When my mom was speeding and shouting at strangers I was seriously scared and I thought,

terrible things are happening but it doesn't make it alright for you to act this way.

are someone's last moments really more important than the fifty years you spent with him?

I know I can be cold and uncaring. I'm not proud of it but it's how I deal with things.

I guess it's true that we all need to cut each other a bit of slack. Because shit happens and we all deal with it in pretty dysfunctional ways.

But maybe, since we have some years ahead of us, maybe we can learn to deal with it differently. A bit at a time. Because sometimes I look at my parents and I really, fervently wish that I will not end up like that. That I won't have those reactions and immaturity. That I won't stand at the end of fifty years and act as if I've only been around for three.

Well thank god for music.

Sunday, August 6, 2017

I've been waiting for life to happen. Still am, I suppose.

I keep forgetting that 'life' has already happened—is happening—and the rivers of time flow freely on. 

It's not that I believed the clock had stopped (how could I? The clock ticks drearily on) but I did think this was a dream-clock, or a temporary clock whose ticking didn't really matter. So what if it goes on? Every day repeats itself, every emotion and thought comes full circle, and...

It's not that routine and predictability are bad. It's not that boredom is bad, or even unusual in this place and time. 

It's also not that I kept asking myself: "Is this all there is to life?" Because many days are hard and tiring and I wish it wasn't so. 

So where did this idea, this thought of "when will my life begin" come from? Don't tell me Mulan. Please don't tell me Mulan. 

Maybe it's from the idea I've been holding since I entered school and learned about exams. Thinking, once this hurdle is over, life will begin. I thought that in primary school every year. And then after all major exams. Once in university I realized I needed to slug out another five years before—finally—life could begin. 

Now that I'm nearing the end of those five years, it seems blatantly obvious that this mindset can follow you for your whole life. 

Will life begin once I graduate?—No, not yet. 

How about once I get a specialty?—No, and besides, there are exams every year. 

How about once I get married? Once I get a dog? (Maybe!) Once I have kids? 

Or once I get a house? 

Will it finally begin when I'm about to die?

I read once that if we don't choose what we want for our lives, then the world will choose for us. And what the world chooses has no consideration for what we want.

Recently I've been haunted by what the world wants to choose for me.

Or what the world has chosen for me.

Or about the definition of 'too late'. 

Saturday, August 5, 2017


I know that I've been going on a rampage lately.

In the past I probably wasn't a better person; I just didn't have any thoughts at all. Thinking back, when I related my stories and people made sounds of outrage, only then would it (belatedly) occur to me that there was something to be mad about. Or something to feel anything about.

So maybe now I'm just further exploring the realm of 'feeling'—that is, feeling unpleasant things.

I'm sure if I sat down and had a long look in myself, I'd come up with the reason why I'm so irritable lately. Why little things set me off and why I'm on another rampage to throw things out the house (am I the only one who hates living surrounded by junk?)

But in a twisted and relatable way, being angry just feels so good.

Better than feeling enlightened.

Better than feeling sorry.

Being angry makes me feel right. 


I do know that these are the words of a doomed fool.

Thursday, August 3, 2017


I sometimes don't get it.

Why everybody gotta be so serious?

And also,

I didn't realise how much it hurt me.

So our parents can say things that hurt a lot.

But you know,

words have power

And unless you want something to come true,

Please don't say it.

But do you, in some corner of your heart, want it to come true?

Because if people can say "I want happiness" but act contradictorily, it's because there are things within them—fears, beliefs, desires—that they themselves haven't come to terms with, but which act on their lives nevertheless.

So if you can say something like that, do you believe it? Or do you want it to come true?

I mean, it's not like I don't know every human being has bits of evil and nastiness in them.

I suppose what should matter to me is:
- When I get my own house
- When I get a dog
- Who I wanna be

Ed Sheeran - what do I know

Wednesday, August 2, 2017

The role of makeup today..

... Because it changes everyday.

Today I painted my lips with anger. I guess sometimes I draw my brows with courage. And some days I touch my cheek with wishes.

On some days, makeup is a sign of respect.

On other days, it's because I'm not happy with my skin.

And some days I don't wear it at all! Cause lazy, good skin, and well...
The Noise of Time by Julian Barnes is unlike anything I've ever read. It's amazing. I'm not finished with it yet, but reading it feels like being taken on a journey over gently bobbing waves, with the occasional lightning bolts across the sky.


I wonder if growing older is all about being let down, gently and otherwise; is it about learning that happiness is allotted to rare bursts of sunshine through otherwise never-ending dreary clouds?

Is this called 'lost innocence', 'cynicism', 'being realistic', 'growing up', or 'moderating our expectations so we are not let down so very much to the point where we feel life is not worth living'?


"If you expect nothing from somebody, you are never disappointed."


But knowing the above makes the happy times so much sweeter.


More than ten years ago, I reached a mutual consensus with my (then) best friend: It's not that I can tolerate a lot of things, or that I'm extremely open minded. I just don't care about other people and what they do with their lives.

Unfortunately the only thing that's changed is that I seem to be tolerating a lot less these days. Gotta work on that.


I'm not sure what I expected.

No; actually I expected something exciting, something fairy-tale like, something with a bright background and some elements of happiness.

I didn't expect this.

I can whine and complain (I do) all day. But, see paragraph two.


I still want a dog. I probably won't cry if I don't get one.

I will probably cry if I get one. Which puts a dog on the same level as chocolate cake.

Monday, July 24, 2017

I was walking home with my head pounding and I thought I saw my dad. My eyes widened and I felt happy, but then I blinked and I realized it wasn't him. I thought, Oh well. I guess I'll see him tonight anyway. 

I suddenly realized that one day this exact same thing may happen again, only I won't be able to see him when I get home. I'mma give him a big hug later.

Actually from all the stories my parents have told me (separately), I realise a lot of my sanity has come from my dad's intervention. And although my mom and I get along like friends now, if she had her way with my upbringing, I would have turned out very differently (worse).


"...everyone's done theirs so send us your quote for the yearbook too!"

"...'life is short'."

Why does everyone think I'm trolling???

Kodaline - the one