🌅 A Day Dedicated to Me 👧

With a few more days left in 2020, I feel the need to at least accomplish something that I always wanted to do and try. 

I have always wanted to go on a trip on my own, overseas, that is. 
However, there always seem to be restrictions and liabilities that I need to deal with. I wasn't "allowed" to venture far alone. I needed to "grow up" before finding an adventure. I couldn't bring myself to have fun alone, when others could tag along.

Since I can't go overseas, why not be a tourist in my own country? 
Sure, My home country is small, there isn't much to see, but the thought of spending a vast majority of the day on my own, outside and without anyone I know or recognised with me, is giving me thrills. It is exciting but nerve-wrecking, I haven't actually done this before.

Putting on my favourite socks, most comfortable shoes and my handy backpack, I set off with much vigour and worry, hoping this day would go well.

And it did.

I didn't have to take into account about the likes and interests of other people. 
I could just venture where my feet would take me, step by step.

I didn't have to wait on anyone or vice versa. 
I could spend time fully and slowly, no restrictions, no timetable to follow.

I didn't have to deal with mood swings and emotions of others.
I could take charge of the day based on my own emotions and thoughts.

It feels... ... free. Is this what freedom feels like?

But it does get lonely, especially during mealtimes. 

Coming back after a day of exploration, I question myself, why did I want to do this so badly? Have I learnt anything?

Was I exploring the sights, or was I exploring myself?

Was I doing this to desperately escaping the rising discomfort and tension at home?

Was I just attempting to leave the reality that I want to deny from so badly?

Maybe it wasn't about getting the permission to travel solo.

Maybe it wasn't about being "not allowed" to seek adventure.

Maybe it was just me ... ... feeling scared.

One Lunar Year Ago 🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕

Lunar Date: 己亥年 十月 二十九日 

(Year of the Pig, 29th day of the 10th month)

I lay in bed, gazing at the ceiling, barely making the outline of the ceiling fan above me. The room was still dark, the sun has yet to risen. But I am already awake, hearing the ticks of the wall clock somewhere in the room. Lazily, I reached to grab my phone, temporarily blinding me with light as I glance at the time. Squinting my blurry eyes. 

6:25 am

I shouldn't be awake at this timing, my alarm hasn't even rang.

As sleepy as I still was, I couldn't get anymore shut eye. I just lay there staring blanking into the darkness of my bedroom, watching the light peep in through the curtains as dawn breaks. 

I really didn't want this day to start. I know what lies ahead today, but I still can't accept it. Maybe I am still in denial, not wanting to believe that it has already been a year. A whole lunar year has passed, and I am still... ... the same. 

6:45 am

The alarm finally rings.

It is time to go about and do this day.

11:50 pm

Day ends. The sky is dark and dull, the moon is nowhere to be seen. The damp smell of the finished rain and wet grass lingers in the air as the chilly winds whispers. I sat at the desk, once again staring blankly at the page I am struggling to fill. I am tired, honestly, but sleep isn't claiming me.

Even at the end of the day, I still can smell the incense of the joss sticks and paper, and feel the warmth of the burning in the urn. A smell that used to mean nothing much to me, but now it brings back clouds of memories that I wish wouldn't diminished with time.

It is difficult for the sun to filter through these grey clouds of regret and wishing this didn't happen. I wish all these grey clouds away, I wish I had done more to regret less, I wish I could rewind to that day one lunar year ago.

😕 I did alright, right?

It's so pretty!

You have really done well!

Good Job!

Compliments.

They do make me happy. 

I feel overjoyed when someone wholeheartedly praise my work and acknowledge my effort. Even a simple 'thank you, and I really like it' over a text message has brought me smiling inwardly. The mere thought of the joy and amazement that my work has brought to others just makes me feel so happy, a feeling I have genuinely not felt for a long time. 

I keep replaying the compliments that were showered on me during that time, even though it has happened almost a week ago. 

It's amazing! You have put in so much effort into them that I really need to keep this properly. How much time did it take? I think you have found your calling. Finally we found something you can win them in.

Rarely do I get so much compliments coming towards me that I don't know how to react to them. It's awkward when all the attention is on you. But it is a good kind of awkward. 

It's nice to have your efforts appreciated so openly. 

I have always been worried and unsure if my effort isn't good enough. People see things differently. Something that I felt that I have placed a lot of effort in maybe just so-so work for them, nothing of standard. After all the effort and time that has been taken is only known by the one who done it.

I am really thankful for this group of friends.

Thank you for appreciating me!

You have really done good!

Really?

I am just glad that we are all still good. 

📕 Case Closed, or Not? 📖

Courtrooms.

Prosecutions and Defendants.

We know of their existence of them, and their purpose.

They are seen on TV, dramas, news etc., but never in my life I would have thought about the need to visit it once. 

This issue has been bugging me for some time now, but I could not find the words to explain it. I studied no law, so most of my thoughts are based off of my emotions, which may be biased, so bear with me. 

A little past a month back, there was a need to visit such a place and listen to a court hearing. Not knowing what to expect, I went in with a heavy heart and with a little fear.

Statements and facts of the matter were made, clearly and surely.

Adapted from: Section 304A Penal Code (Chapter 224, Revised Edition 2008)

Causing death by rash or negligent act
      304A.     Whoever causes the death of any person by doing any rash or negligent act not amounting to culpable homicide, shall be punished -

        (a)      in the case of a rash act, with imprisonment for a term which may
                   extend to 5 years, or with fine, or both; or
        (b)      in the case of a negligent act, with imprisonment for a term which may
                   extend to 2 years, or with fine, or with both.

5 years maximum, it mentioned, but you were only sentenced to 2 months in jail.

Just because you pleaded guilty does not mean you are not as guilty. You still have committed a crime that caused a life. 

2 months in jail, while the rest of the decease's family members spent several months and even years in sadness as a result of your mistake. The sentence doesn't seem severe enough to atone for your mistake. And this is not your first mistake. The amount of fines you have paid over the years hasn't let you learnt your lesson, what will 2 months of jail term do to you?

I know that life is unfair, but isn't this too unfair?

I was hoping that by sitting through the court hearing, most of us will feel the much needed closure of this case, reaching a settlement of our emotions, calming our hearts.

On the contrary, this seemed to do the opposite instead.

The case may be closed, but the unsettled feeling is still there.

The gavel was raised and a knock was heard, echoing through the entire courtroom.

"Case closed." they said. Clicks of the handcuffs could be heard after, as the criminal was lead away by 2 police officers, serving their much needed punishment.

Tension dissipates, as the head judge rises from their seat, followed behind by his left and right judges. Shuffling up to their feet, everyone bows in respect. 

Other emotions start seeping in. 

Relief comes in as a replacement to the anger felt towards the criminal. 

Respect to the higher authorities that kept their calm and seriousness throughout.

Regret, that all this has to happened, but it serves as a reminder of the laws put in place to keep us just and safe.  

But none of that happened.

Creating another Island 🌌

I want people to know more about me.

I want to step out of my comfort zone.

I want the world to see my life through my eyes. 

But the online world is a scary place.

I am scared of the comments that will be given.

I am fearful of the meek response that maybe given.

I am a timid mouse just wanting to hide away.

It was after much deliberation that I decided to create an Instagram account.

All the hype happening on Instagram, allowing us to get a peek into the life of a star, gain inspiration for both art and fashion, and etc.

I too want to be part of all this hype. Maybe it is me wanting to gain acceptance and recognition from someone somewhere else, or just paint a facade. Sure, the posts on both this blog and there would still be as anonymous as it already is, no name and no face shown. 

I hope I am not making a grave mistake by creating an account and linking it to this blog. I have stay hidden as a blogger ever since I've started blogging, and kept changing the URL of this blog. It is going to take up a lot of my time, not that I have anything better to do. 

It's not too late isn't it?

🏠 Lego House

힘들어도 안 힘든 척

아파도 안 아픈 척

그렇게 계속 창고 살다 보니,

겉은 멀쩡해 보이는데 

속은 엉망진창으로 망가지고 있는 것 같은 기분

- 김토끼 -

Translation:

(Acting as if I am not tired, when I am

Acting as if I am not in pain, when I am

After living all those years with suppression, 

I look fine on the outside, 

but it feels as if I am starting to break into pieces inside)

I have heard the above quote when Hara posted on her social media account.

It just hit me in the feels, that everyone is breaking at some point. Some of us hide it better than others, making people think that "Hey, you are acting usual, just like yourself". Maybe we just don't want others to worry. Maybe we just do not like when the attention is on us. Maybe we feel that others can handle it and go on with life, we could too. 

Sometimes, I don't even know if I am breaking or picking up the pieces. Which part of life am I suppose to be on? My hands are getting filled with the pieces that I have picked up, pieces that I don't know where it belongs to. Are they mine? Or am I just blindly doing things for the sake of being useful when I am still alive?

Over last week, I heard the song Lego House, by Ed Sheeran. His lyrics in the song just struck a chord with me. Playing with Lego is a childhood memory to me. It has always been fun piecing them together to form shapes from our dreams, building relationships with my siblings over Lego. However, as children we didn't really focus on the fragility of them. Once fallen, bricks with  come loose. Step on them, and they hurt a lot.

I am going to continue picking up the pieces, 

To built a Lego house.

Brick by brick and piece by piece, 

I childishly stacked them up,

Making a feeble attempt to patch myself up.

One wall of the brittle Lego house is already done.

Just a wall, with no doors and windows.

A wall of colourful plastic bricks,

Giving me a fake sense of security,

For one push is all it takes for it to crumble.

Will it be able to shelter me from the storms that are raging?

Barricading me from the howling winds.

Or will it cast long dreary shadows,

With impenetrable darkness,

Even the lighting has failed to lit.

When someone comes along, 

Would they help to build the unfinished walls of the house?

For it isn't a house with just one wall.

Or wasting the timorous effort of mine,

By tearing it down to come face to face with me?

A Dormant Volcano 🗻

A sudden light flashed across the sky, illuminating the already dark  purple sky. It is accompanied by the sound of rumbling thunder echoing in the otherwise silent night. There is a slight rustle of leaves, a couple of pitter-patter of the raindrops, that's about it.

Besides the couple of raindrops already trailing down the window, I doubt it would pour.

I sat on the floor, next to the windows. Curtains drawn. 

Pressing my face against the glass as I gaze outside, feeling the coldness against my skin. 

A comforting coldness numbing the boiling fire within.

The weather is really trying to help me isn't it? It matches my mood.

A thunder storm is brewing, yet it doesn't rain.

A fire of fury and hatred is ignited, but there isn't any waterworks to extinguished it.

Save the few tears shed, doubt it will help.

Hate is a strong word.

I hardly use it, I would usually say I dislike this and that, but seldom hate.

But I'm frustrated, angry and upset.

All the pent up emotions are forming a boiling pit of lava, waiting to erupt from a long dormant volcano. 

It is bound to happen sooner or later,  me losing my cool and getting angry.

It's just a matter of time before one of us snaps.

But maybe it is just me.

女儿和女佣，虽然这两个字有个女字在前面，但是意思是非不同。

你不能随意把女儿当成你的女佣来看待。

女佣可以不喜欢她的雇主， 因为她能还雇主，再也见不到他。

但女儿不可以不认她的爸爸，只能默默地讨厌他，忍着。

Sorry, I just had to type in Chinese to get my message across, but here's the translation.

(A daughter and a helper, although both are females, but their meanings are really different.

You can't just treat your daughter as a maid.

A maid can dislike her employer, because she can change him, and not meet him again.

But a daughter can't disown her father, just quietly dislike and tolerate.)

I hate it that you are so stubborn and oblivious.

I hate it that you are a stereotypical old male, always waiting to be serve.

I hate it that you treat us like this.

I wanna scream and lash out at all the injustice.

We are women, not servants.

Stop throwing your man attitude at us.

But I cannot do anything about it. For now.

The dormant volcano was on the verge of erupting.

But the bubbling magma needs to be swallowed back down to the ever fiery pit. 

But keep in mind, this dormant volcano will never go extinct. 

Replay ◀️ ; Rewind ⏮️

It has been a long time since I wrote here. 
A break of four months, should be sufficient time for me to organise my thoughts and life right? 
I guessed not. 

I feel that I keep hitting a replay button. 

I am back to where I am used to be, lost and unmotivated.
There have been many things that I wanted to say or do, but nothing seems done. I keep telling myself that I need to do this or that, I want to learn new things now that I have the time, or I should use what I learnt to make things worthwhile. 

Nothing has happened.

A new chapter of my life has began a long time ago. A milestone has been crossed almost a year ago, where the chapter closes and a new one begins. Although off to a rocky beginning of a new chapter, I am barely a page in. The me from four months ago is as unaccomplished as the me four months older. Most of my peers are building up to the climax of their life chapters, but I am stuck and unmoving.

The lack of motivation is real, I get distracted and stare into space often.

Hitting the replay button once again, a memory floats by.
A friend, who once read my previous entries, mentioned that many of my posts were usually about a similar topic - the lack of a goal and a dream. Reading back the past ninety posts, I realised that this is true. Many of the previous posts were about the lack of motivation, escaping reality, being lost, insecure and unsure about what I wanted to do with my life. 

What if I could rewind time ?
Would that change anything ?
Or would everything replay itself once again ?