😕❓Who? What? When? Where?

Who am I?

A human. A girl. A person with feelings and emotions.

I mean, that's a given. But who am I really? I'm still not too sure. Do I have a place in society? Am I of any worth? What makes me, me? However, the hurtful truth is, it isn't important who am I. It is more critical to others to see what is the use of me. A label or a piece of paper decides how much you are worth. They don't have to meet you to valuate you. 

What do you see me as?

A friend, a foe or just an acquaintance?
I'm sure I have taken on many characters, good or bad. I know that I have behaved differently, depending on the time and people I am with. I hoped I have left a good impression on someone, or somewhere out there they see me in a positive light. It's not important how others see you, that is what I always remind myself; I still let it bother me. I'm mindful of what others think of me, first impressions and all. It is tiring to upkeep a facade and to be perpetually mindful of the way I act outside. 

When do you think of me?
Do you remember me as much as I do of you? Occasionally? Or not at all? 

I think, I reminiscent, and sometimes I overthink. I like replaying little occasions and happy times in my head often. It keeps me sane and reminds me that I can be happy too. 

There I lay, 
As a society's toy.
Nothing special, nothing unique.
I watched as the clouds float by.
I hear my life tick away,
Waiting for someone to pick me up?

Where are you?
Where am I?

🌁 An Unpredictable Weather 🌀

A slight drizzle pitter-pattered onto my window pane, the sound barely audible. I paid no attention to it. The sun was still high up in the sky, although the air was slightly tinted with the smell of rain. It would soon passed, I presumed, nothing to worry about. A small trickle of rain means no harm, it keeps things alive and moving.

As quick as the drizzle came, the storm clouds brewed over, casting long dark shadows of forewarnings. The wind picked up speed, sending chills down my spine. Billowing through the open windows, the curtains fluttered helplessly, at mercy of the howling wind. The light pitter-patter was soon replaced by torrential beat of the heavy rain.

I stayed silent, I was not prepared for this. The thought of seeking shelter echoed in my mind. It would be much safer to, before the storm reached its peak. But I sat there unmoving, watching the impending storm unfold before me.

The lightning strike and pierced through the overcast sky. The thunder roared and yelled. Sheets of rain wiped away the carefully stacked barriers without hesitation, washing away everything in its path. 

Doors slammed, jolting the silent and unmoving statue of me. 

No one predicted a storm. It happened anyway.

No one expected a disaster. It's a mess.

It was a typhoon that torn us apart.

🚏 A Worrisome Ride 🚌

Avoiding puddles, I reached the bus stop, which was deserted. Maybe due to the chilly weather, the pavements were quieter than usual, with a lone person or two crossing the streets. The sky was slightly overcast, but I'm glad it wasn't raining as it has been for the past few days. From a distance, I spotted a green single decker bus approaching. Squinting through my foggy spectacles, I flagged it down after noticing the correct pixelated digits on the screen. The bus lazily strolled into the stop and stopped a couple of steps away from me.

I boarded the bus alone, for the first time in awhile. 

A little scared, and a little nervous, I never really liked spending time outside alone. The bus wasn't crowded, and I gladly plopped down into a row of empty seats, situating myself by the window. I could feel the cold rubber seat against my thighs, sending a wave coldness as I shivered unintentionally. Maybe I should have worn longer pants today.

Another chill came over me. A pinch of fear struck me.

There is an empty seat beside me. 

In the span of this estimated 40 minutes bus ride, will it be occupied? 

The bus continued on its' journey, not realising the fear of one of the few passengers on board. Calmly making its' way through the traffic lights and under the overhead bridges, a couple of stops were passed with minimal passengers alighting and boarding. The situation was beginning to look optimistic, in contrast to the slight drizzle and started unknowingly. I absentmindedly watched the family in the nearby car, silently celebrating the fact that the seat next to mine was still gleefully empty. Until... ...

That one certain stop arrived. I should have known, it wasn't my first time taking this route. A swarm of passengers boarded the bus, a couple of aged ones too. Seats were starting to fill up. The one behind me, across the aisle from me and even the standing bay was soon occupied. Are the ample seats remaining excluding the on next to me? Do I need to give up my seat?

Someone sat next to me.

I am sandwiched between her and the window. I reluctantly shifted myself closer to the window, subtly glancing at my neighbour. She didn't seem to care or mind. Fishing out her mobile phone from her handbag, she stayed glued to the screen. What if I needed to get off? I would have to speak up, won't I? I rather not. I really hoped she will alight off before I do. 

*Side note:

Another descriptive post, hopefully it is better this time around. Also, I managed to write a post for every month last year. I didn't skipped any months, and kept the promise that I made to myself, which I rarely do. I guess this is an achievement unlocked? I hope I will uphold this promise this year too.

🌅 Morning Musings 💤

The shrill sounds of my phone alarm jolted me out of my much needed sleep, accompanied by the vibration from somewhere near my pillow. Bleary eyes along with unspectacled vision, I groped around blindly in the darkness, finding the cause of my interrupted forty winks. The light blinded my eyes as I picked up the source of my irritation early in the morning. It is time to start another long day.

Shuffling my feet out of my safe haven, I called out to my furry companion, who too, begrudgingly removed himself from the floor and came towards the door. After a few warm hugs, and mumbled good mornings, we left the house for a walk. 

The chilly winds blew and greeted us, sending chills and messing up my unclipped hair. It was a cold and breezy morning, after the heavy downpour the night before. A lone jogger runs pass us.  It is still too early for me to function. I don't understand why would one wake up early on a Sunday morning. Side by side, we set off on a slow walk, stopping every now and then to sniff the grass and trees. 

A euphonious harmony of sounds could be heard, making this particular morning alive. The light foot steps of a runner and the squishy sounds of my slippers at half its' time as it slaps against the wet concrete pavement. Cheery birds chirping, in contrast to the dreary morning, were hopping in the grass, greeting the few people who are out and about. The sound of a kettle whistling, and the clink clanks of stirring teaspoons in coffee mugs could be heard in a distance. My stomach rumbles, I haven't eaten my breakfast.

A warm cup of earl grey tea and biscuits carefully balanced in my other hand as I settled at the table to have my breakfast. My fellow furry companion sits by my feet, looking earnestly for biscuits, pawing my feet every minute or so. Having 'accidently' dropping some bits and pieces, the 'evidence' was cleared within seconds.

Another day has begun.

*Side note:

I haven't written something as descriptive in awhile, it's kind of unfamiliar. Looking back at my previous posts, I realised I have the tendency to write in short stanzas and sentences. Trying to write differently in this post, about something more trivial. Life has been pretty stagnant lately, there isn't much to whine about. Anyways, this happened one Sunday morning, but I left it till now to write it out. 

✨ Caught in a Daydream ⛅

I can't seem to focus.
My mind always seem to be somewhere else.
In a daydream bubble where I'd stay,
A place so little and faraway,
A fluffy island to call my own.

Ignorance is indeed more appealing,
Than the madness from day to day.
It is like a heaven down on earth,
Where the worst is dispersed, 
Such a peaceful place filled with love.

I daydream about a hopeful day.
I daydream that I am not chasing a dying age.
I daydream that I won't be the only one daydreaming anymore.
Someday, I would see the other you.
And together, we could make this daydream true.

Staring into a distance,
I am here, but not really either.
Escaping the life maze,
And falling into a daze,
Caught in a daydream.

😖 AwKwArDness 😶😰

I'm awkwardly sitting there, not knowing what to say. There isn't much to say too. Give a slight smile and pretend to listen about the current topics at the table that I really do not have a clue about or any interest in. I try to put in a few words, but they don't hold any meaning. Sometimes they elicit a response. However, most of the time, it gains some awkward attention. Or at least it feels that way to me. 

Words are said and opinions are exchanged, the conversations have moved on. My mind remains stagnant. I guess it is better to stay muted. The lesser is spoken, there would be little chance of awkward moments. Put a mask and a filter on, unless you are spoken to, try not to speak.

Have you been in such situations? 

I do enjoy social gatherings, as much as I fear them.
I like the company of friends, going on food hunts and eating one too many desserts.
I want to go out more often, with people I have learn to trust and love.

But I don't speak much, or rather, I just do not know what to say. It is uncomfortable for a painfully introverted girl like me. It takes me ages to actually warm up to people, and even when I do, I tend to hide back in my shell. The quiet girl can get a little crazy too, they said. Being all friendly and smiling on the surface, but inwardly the heart beats speedily and the mind in a whirl. What should I say next? How do I reply? Just smile, awkwardly. 

Don't say too much.
Don't over analyse things.
Don't make it awkward.

But the word 'awkward' looks awkward... ...

I am an awkward girl.

🍳 A Disaster Recipe 💥

How am I feeling, you may ask.

To answer is a pretty difficult task.

For emotions are quite complex,

Enough to make me more than perplexed, 

So perhaps a recipe is needed to describe them.

Let's start with a big bowl of emptiness, 

Which I was hoping to fill with happiness.

But too much sugar isn't too good,

Just pour in a little to set the mood.

For after it is melted, it's hard to find. 

There's a pinch of 'what's going to happen next', 

Being folded subtly into the mix.

It's like excitement on Christmas day, 

In which to me it's just another day, 

Another day to live called tomorrow.

Pour in the cup of lukewarm discontentment, 

Together with a block of disappointment.

Whisked them together till well combined,

Until the peaks of life are well-defined,

But be quick or they will collapse anytime.

Add a dash of heated anger to the mix. 

Be careful to make sure it doesn't get burn to crisp.

If there is just slightly more than needed, 

This recipe is one where I will be defeated.

It's a dangerous game of trial and error.

🔎 Finding Excuses

Leaving it till the last week of August to do a post. I had the intention of doing it last week, but I just couldn't find the energy of thought to write anything out. 

There isn't much to write about anyways, life has been pretty stagnant recently. I been getting the feeling of needing to do something different, something for myself, and get a grip to move on in life. The thought is there, but the motivation isn't.

It has also been increasingly difficult to put my personal thoughts and feelings into words. Maybe it is because there really nothing to write about. My life, It's boring, predictable and unhappening. I guess an uneventful time is a calm one. 

But there are still much to complain about.

I keeping finding excuses, for both myself and others.

Excuses to just answer my thoughts momentarily.

Excuses to just explain the circumstance and happenings.

Excuses to just please myself, and not do anything about it.

I keep telling myself excuses.

They're throwing tantrums, because they're stressed out about school. It's alright.

They're being mean and moody, because it is their final year at school. It's crazy and hectic. I've been there too, I should understand that better than anyone else. 

They're lashing out at others, because stepping out into society is scary and pretty harsh. It's normal to be afraid. 

They're being self-centered and uncaring, because... ... what?

I'm tired of finding excuses for a behaviour to pacify myself, that hey, it's okay, it's reasonable, just deal with it and get over it. It's tiring to cope with the excuses that I find, they are just there for me to feel like there is a reason for everything that is happening and that I should just live with it. There are only that many excuses one can find before reaching a bursting point.

I want to excuse myself from life.

🗿 A sunken stone 😑

My eyes are glistening, are they not?

I think I just yawned. 

Maybe I've got something in my eye. 

It's just that my eyes are dry.

Hence, the glitter sparkles in my eyes.

I want to be able to give an excuse. 

I want them to come, I want to just cry out.

But they won't come, the tears don't come.

I've been so out of contact with my own emotions that I do not know what to feel anymore. Happiness? Resentment? Sadness? What are they and where have they been? Is this the effect of being stoned face and hiding you true feelings a couple of times? Has it become a habit?

Even when I feel down, I always tell myself, tomorrow is a new day, everything will be better after a night of fitful sleep. I will wake up the next day and pretend yesterday didn't happen, just continue on with life. There is something new and exciting that will come within a new day or the next.

But it's a different story now.

Every morning, I don't want to leave my bed. I reluctantly tear the safety cocoon of my blanket and dread the day. I don't want to get through another day of discomfort, resentment, disappointment and other negative thoughts. 

I wished for a clear blue sky, not an overcast one.

I wished for a bright sunny day, not one with torrential rain and storms. 

I wished for free flying birds, not caged ones.

Go get a proper job and built your life and retirement fund. 

You need to get experience, and be part of the society outside.

Haven't you been resting enough?

But a sudden thought crashes through  my head. 

What if I don't live till retirement age? 

I need to get these morbid thoughts out of my mind. 

It's suffocating. 

But my expression does not change. 

A rainy night ⛈

If there was a one-way ticket to go anywhere, 
Would you sell it, give it, or go for it?
To fly across the seven seas.
Where would you go? Who would you be?
Just to escape from this fall.

Maybe I have been indoors for too long.
The warm sunlight and the cool breeze that I used to like, 
I've forgotten how to enjoy them.
Although they are gentle, 
It slaps me back to reality.

I sit here in the darkness of my room.
I'm existing, within these four walls of comfort. 
Getting up and moving seems too much of a hassle, 
But I still do anyways, 
Just won't be getting too far.

The path needed to be taken seems like a marathon.
Rain pitter-patters against the flooring.
I really do need to shut that window.
A meek slam and it is closed, 
The door to the outside world.

My breath fogs into the cool glass, 
As I see my reflection, vaguely.
I am still me, aren't I?
Lightning flashes across the overcast sky, 
Shattering my reflection.

🔖 Book Review #01

Title: Kitchen (キッチン) 
Author: Banana Yoshimoto
(Includes the novella entitled Moonlight Shadow)

The book consists of 3 parts, with the first 2 parts, Kitchen and Full Moon, as one tale, and Moonlight Shadow as another tale.

In the first tale, Mikage, a young woman, struggles to deal with the grief of losing her grandmother. After her passing, she moves in with her grandmother's friend from the florist, Yuichi, and his transgender mother, Eriko. Eventually, she grows closer to them, and becomes part of their family. Soon after, she finds a new job as a culinary teacher's assistant, and has to move out. 

Things turn for the worse when Eriko died. She tried to support Yuichi, just like they did when she first moved in with them. Both got closer, feeling developed, but Mikage was reluctant to face her feelings in this time of grief. She goes away once again for work, chance upon a restaurant serving delicious katsudon, and decides to bring it to him.

And yes, the description of the said katsudon made me craved for one.

"Good quality meat, excellent broth, the eggs and onions handles beautifully, the rice with just the right degree of firmness to hold up the broth-it was flawless." 

In the second tale, Moonlight Shadow, Satsuki loses her boyfriend, Hitoshi, in an accident. She deals with grief by doing things out of the ordinary for her, going for late night walks and early morning runs. On one of her sleepless morning out, she meets Urara, a strange woman, on the same bridge she and Hitoshi last saw each other on. Urara introduces her a mystical experience, termed "The Weaver Festival Phenomenon", in hopes that she too, will be able to overcome their collective grief. 

Both stories explore the nature of loneliness, the pain of losing someone and how each deal with grief in their own way, with the help of healing companionship. 

There's something about reading translated works of Japanese authors, the language used most of the time is simple, yet narrative, and implying full depth of meaning with just a few simple words.

Here are my favourite moments and quotes from both tales.

"To the extent that I had come to understand that despair does not necessarily result in annihilation, that one can go on as usual in spite of it, I had become hardened. Was that what it means to be an adult, to live with ugly ambiguities? I didn't like it, but it made it easier to go on."

- Kitchen

"The pretty scene was brimming with life, but my soul was pinning for the desolate streets of winter."

- Moonlight Shadow

Not the most happy quotes, but the truths of them hits me hard.

*Side note:

Instead of just ranting like I would usually do, I decided to do something more...sophisticated?

How hard is it to write a book review?

I mean, I have done a lot of book reviews in the past, as a kid, just to attain a "good reader badge". Collected them all, at every grade in school.

Shouldn't be that eventful, or so I thought.

It has been proving more difficult that I thought it would be.

Firstly, before writing it, a book needs to be read finished with some understanding.

Starting the book isn't an issue, it is finishing it.

I can't seem to focus.

💣Silent Chaos 🎇

What is today suppose to be?

I am losing track of the dates and day.

Everyday feels the same, play, pause, rewind. 

Communication is key, isn't it?

At least that's what was mentioned.

I used to think communication was the key, until I realised what comprehension is. Try communicating all you want with someone, but if they don't understand you, it's pointless. Words fall on deaf ears, it is as if you are talking to a wall. But even some walls echo back the words heard. At least, it's being heard, somewhat.

Speaking your mind doesn't kill right?

But why do I get shot for speaking?

The most pathetic feeling is when you get in a fight with someone because you expressed what made you feel upset and irritated. Instead of apologising, they find a way to make you feel even worse about it and you are left regretting saying anything at all. I should have just kept silent.

Should I just not say anything at all?

I wish for adventure, or at least something to look forward to.

I wish for peace and harmony, not obliviousness.

I wish for silence, not silent chaos.

Sometimes a whisper is louder than a shout.

But I can barely hear myself, mumbles.

My words are only too loud when they don't hear above their din.

Just a month more...

Maybe slightly more than a month, who knows.

I gave up counting.

Zero o'clock 🕛

23:59:00
It's already coming to the end of the day.
How has your day been?

23:59:05
It is the last minute of the day, what are you up to?
Have you washed up and preparing to sleep?
Or perhaps, maybe already catching the much needed forty winks?

23:59:17
It seems so long ago that this minute past by without me realising.
Clickety-clacks of the keyboard and the buzz of the hand phone.
The cacophony of sounds in a panicky rush to meet deadlines.

23:59:38
Time seemed to pass so fast then.
Within a blink of an eye, it was already the next day.
But not anymore.

23:59:45
Just a mere 15 seconds more.
One minute is sure along time.
Alot of things can happen before tomorrow comes.

23:59:51
Plenty of things can change.
A drop in the temperature, a loss of a strand of hair.
I watch as a fly gets trapped in a web, unable to escape.

23:59:56
But what if this was the last minute of your life?

23:59:58
Silence.

23:59:59
I sat there and stared, as the minute and second hand overlaps.

00:00:00
Is it today, tomorrow, or yesterday?
Let me check.

... ... I'm still breathing.

Don't give me your attitude

I'm honestly sick and tired of your nonsense.

I've had enough.

Don't test my patience any longer.

Time and time again, I have let bygones be bygones.

Trying to keep my cool, I tolerated and pretended like nothing has happened.

But you have to throw your sass into my face once again.

You said you want to be treated like an adult. Then act like one!

You find the most childish and trivial things to argue and fight with. Every little event that goes against you, you blame others for the misfortune. It is never ever your fault. You are always right. You always seem to feel that you need to put others down back into their places and you think highly about yourself.

You said you want to take care of the environment. Why don't you take care of yourself first. You rather save the chickens and be all high up about ethical farming, and starve yourself till you get an unhealthy stomach and make others worry about you. Heck it, you don't even take your meals properly and you call yourself a functional adult. 

You said we don't care about you. But you just don't see it.

Multiple times I've tried to be the caring older sister and strike a conversation with you. 

How was your day? Where are you headed to? Have you eaten?

All these harmless questions just to ask about your well-being, and you shot them down.

Why do you care?

And then when I give up asking, you say you don't act like an older sister and you don't care about me. 

It hurts a lot honestly, a lot.

It makes it seem I am no good as someone older, that I am unworthy to be in your sight.

I've tried and I want to keep trying to salvage it.

But I am tired of your attitude.

Anyways, beside the rants... ...

A milestone reached! 

My 100th blog post!

Seems like it has taken me awhile.

This is my first and only blog so far, and I've kept it up and running since 2011. I'm so proud of myself for persevering on and living life. 

At least this ended on a positive note.

䷻ A Limit ≐

Everything has a limit.

A speed limit when driving on the road, to make things safe.

A tolerance limit when drinking, before going tipsy.

A limit to how much something can be stretched, before it snaps.

Some limits are higher than the others.

Some limits are worth breaking and going beyond it.

Some limits are meant to be kept and tolerated.

What's my limit?

I feel that I have reached my limit a couple of times already, and it is only the first month of the new year. I'm so close to screaming my head off and even swearing. It is so not me to lose my cool, especially when I am in public places. The ache and the tears, I choose not to show them, but they lose control anyways. I hate crying, it makes me a mess. I'm not weak, at least I don't want to appear to be. 

But you have pushed me to my limits, till I'm losing my calm and cool. 

I've tolerated long enough, all of us have.

You don't even seem to notice the tension in the air when you are around, do you?

You are an oblivious fool, an insensitive jerk with a lazy and commanding nature that irks everyone. Clean up after yourself for once, you have limbs for a reason, put them to good use. Thank you very much, but most of us are fine living without your help, if you didn't know.

Ugh. 

How am I going to survive till the end of the new decade? 

When I have had one too many, 

And am not writing coherently.

I need to stop trying, 

Trying to be deep and meaningful.

I shall give up. 

I've given up.

With maybe five shots, 

Definitely less than a bottle.

Just some alcohol somewhere,

Drowning in my system.

I'm not a poet.

I'm just a girl,

with too many thoughts, 

and not enough sense, 

To stop typing.

🌅 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.