hello there. =)
it has been awhile since i last posted about my journey to aussie, ey? haha! sorry. =( i have been busy worrying about not being able to see these people anymore. silly thought, i know, but i can't help but to feel so. and yeah, it did bring me under the wind for the past few days. heh.
but anyhow, here i am, 2 weeks away from my departure to my whole new life. i am actually exaggerating this. but yeah, it really did feel like i am about to begin my own life over there. everything will be totally different. it really does feel like a challenge for me.
what happened for the past whole week had been pretty laid back, little did i realise i did bring my some problems along the way, something that i pretty much couldn't see coming. probably the exitement was causing me to be ignorant about other important details that i have never thought existed, ever.
my brains had gone noodles since college ended. HAHAH
well, after i had handed in my application for Monash, all i had to do was wait for my agent to tell me to go ahead with the health check. supposedly, she told me to only purchase my flight ticket after i had the confirmation of the visa. but i was worried that the longer i waited, the more i had to pay for my flight. as i was observing the flight prices increasing at about rm100 per day. it was scaring me somehow, since i had to spend so much on my education itself, i wanted to try to save as much as i can. initially i did not want to fly airasia due to the very bad experience i had on my previous journey to Macau. but after some conversation with my aunt, i got convinced that it would be a better option to pick the cheaper flight after all. and then i had the problem on choosing which date i was supposed to fly over. assuming i had to search around for a place to stay before my orientation date, which falls on the 13th, i figured i should be there at least 5 days before that. sort of like a preparation and getting used to the place before i had to digest the fact that i will be in that uni for the next 3 years.
honestly. i was thinking too much. but i can't help it! everything was in need of some thoughts. i am actually planning for something that i have no clue how it would turn out. and it does intimidate me from time to time. after 3 days of frustration over the flight ticket problem, i made the decision to fly of on the 7th, giving me enough time to prepare a little before the orientation begins. midnight flight, i could just sleep in as i am that kind of a pig who sleeps almost anywhere comfortably. haha. yeah. and arrive on the 8th, which then leaves me with exactly 5 days to prepare myself. sounds like a good plan, yeah?
i thought so too. even got me checking in straight away after the purchase. well. now that i have a slight image of how things are gonna be, that was a wrong decision after all. for my sister had work on that day, which leaves me stranded for that day. oops. here is the one thing that i missed, that i did not think of. so much for overthinking. =/ for initially i thought i really could just pop by anytime and should be fine on my own. FACT : i needed to bunk in at her place for at least a day or two until i get my own place to stay, so yes. i NEED HER STILL! now. here is one problem by itself.
i could possibly change my flight to other days where she will be free to come pick me up from the airport, yes? but i already checked in. so.. i guess i need to contact AirAsia to see if i can change the flight, if i really do need to change my flight.
okay. one problem solved.
what's next?
my mobile number.
i am using prepaid! which means i have to constantly top up to prevent my number from being barred. which also means i have to switch plan to keep my number somehow. which also means i have to sacrifice my current plan : Super SMS where i can text all DiGi numbers for free for the whole day after spending 50cents on texting.
hrm... what am i gonna do about this one? or, i can sub in with my sister's plan, which she is planning to switch to Celcom if i am not mistaken. which also means it will cost a bomb for whoever who wishes to contact me. but of course, i will still have a new aussie number altogether. just that i would want to keep my Malaysian number just in case when i am back, i can use to contact people or people could use to contact me.
though i did stumble upon this plan from digi, where i can pay only rm30 and i can prevent being barred for the whole year. but i have to switch my plan to BestPrepaid plan. no more Super SMS for me. =/ as of now, it does look like the best option. still needs reconsidering.
speaking of a place to stay, my sister is spoon feeding me on this one. which then makes me realise, i doubt i would actually survive Australia on my own if it was not for her presence. she had already searched for houses for me. if it wasn't for her, i'd probably just PRAY that the uni has a place for me to stay. WAIT! but they had already told me if they had no place for me to stay, they could actually help me search for a place to stay, no way i was gonna be stranded there. but yeah, i would probably be too scared that i have no place to stay, and end up choosing some crappy place to stay or even being conned off my money. =O yes. i am blessed to have my sister with me every step of the way to Australia. she had been here all the while, and as much as i thought i would stop depending on them, it really does feel like i am not ready to be on my own at this rate.
well. i gotta learn someday, yeah?
and this is when i will start learning. =)
thank you, for everything.
Monday, January 23, 2012
Friday, January 20, 2012
okay focus. mmmmh!
lol. i seriously need to focus on this one. cause it's some sort of a buried thought of mine that i never really thought of bringing it back into realtime. it didn't feel necessary at all, to be honest. but i somehow came across this thought, so i guess it is about time that i talk about this, in a proper manner, in an adult way... or so called adult way. let's just see if i will still come across this matter in a matter of... 10 years time from now? we shall see. time will indeed tell. alright, here goes nothing. =)
father. daddy.
i never really had the chance to use them almost ever. yes, i may use them in conversations, but it was never about mine. i choose not to talk about mine. as mentioned, it felt unnecessary. i would always go by the same old story. this story used to be one heck of a tough one to talk about when i was little, but as i grew up, i shortened the whole damn story into just one mere sentence. it was getting tired talking about the whole story from the beginning, in addition to the fact that i may not talk to these people whom i just told my whole long face numbing story from the start to the end, it didn't feel necessary to tell the whole story anymore. thus, it just tires me out.
"parents divorced, been staying with my aunt since two."
one sentence. short and simple, the icing of the cake, just enough. even with that, the person who had just listen to it would have been numbed and would not know how to respond to you already. hence, the awkwardness. which then gets much more tiring, trying to pump up a topic, changing that awkward moment there.
when i was a kid, i would walk about, looking at how my friends had happy families, mother, father, child, hand in hand, smilling and laughing. just being a happy family. i was really envious then. my mother was never really around, i have no idea who my father is like. i felt jealous that i could not have the same life my friends did. all this while, i grew up, living with my aunt and her family. no memories of being rejected by another family who took care of me for a short period of time until i was told about last year or so. i couldn't call my aunt mummy, or my uncle daddy, but i called my cousin brother and cousin sister, kor kor and jie jie, my aunt remains as yee yee and uncle as yee jiong.
watching my friends running towards their mothers and being loved and all ways possible. one friend whom i gotten close somewhere around the last year of primary school, got me envious, for i got to stay over at her place for a night, saw how her family was like. i didn't have that. but i had my aunt who had taken care of me, without fail, up until today. and my brother and sister who have gotten to accept me as their little sister. it wasn't until recently that my uncle had finally accepted me as 'family'.
blessed that i could grow up in this family, they were educated. could not have imagined what it would be like if i had not lived with this family. i owe this family my life. i really believe i do.
who my father is.
it's just one weird topic altogether to even be discussed about. i, have his genes, his blood, i do look like him in someways, but i don't know who he is, and best of all, i am actually afraid of him.
growing up, i only knew my father as someone who gets drunk and takes all my mother's hard earned money, just so he could go and buy more alcohol to be consumed. it gave me an image that all drunk people are scary, causing me to have this generalised thought that people will lose their minds when they are drunk, not caring about almost anything at all.
i was told that i am afraid of everything. would just cry at the sight of anything that would scare the crap out of me. those coin paid rides? where you see kids enjoying themselves on them? marry go rounds? i was afraid of those. and i was told that i was afraid was probably cause i saw my father hitting my mother or somesort that got me scared of EVERYTHING.
talk about conditioning and generalising. it is no doubt proven in my case. haha
if one were to ask me about my father,
i honestly have no clue who he is. i have only met him a few times in my life after i had started to stay with my aunt. even so, i was almost terrified whenever i meet him. and i believe i still am scared today. the fact that he is my father, and i know nothing of him, was just... unacceptable.
damn. my life really does seem screwed up. omg.
as you age, you start to discover more and more about the days when you had no clue what was happening when you were much younger. you tend to understand things better, accepting why it had happened, why it had to happen that way and it just goes on. the realisation part had always been the hardest part for me to accept.
it still is.
cause when you were younger, you couldn't bother less on what was happening, YOU JUST WANT TO HAVE FUN. there wasn't any point in understanding complicated things then.
when the teachers in my primary school asked the students to bring their birth cert, i would look at theirs on how different theirs were as compared to mine. i realised mine was printed on the year 1995. no, i was still born on 1993. it wasn't until last year that i knew why. it turns out that my father had come around to take my birthcert away from me or something, and that my aunt had to go file a police report, saying that it was missing, to replace the 'stolen' one. hence, the difference in my birthcert as compared to everyone else's. 1995. noted.
then sometime last year i was wondering, why didn't the marriage work out, and how come the marriage was so short that i had to live with my aunt since the age of 2. i questioned my mother, but i didn't get a clear answer, i made a conclusion that if i had existed, they would most probably had not gotten married in the first place. well, i got the answer just recently. parents wedding date : 25th August 1992. well. i was born on the 26th of February 1993. 7 months pregnancy. i do not recall any story about me being a baby that was lucky enough to survive a premature delivery. i guess my conclusion was proven right after all.
there have been countless number of times where i had blamed myself on everything that has happened around me. for i believed, nothing as bad as these would have occured if i had not existed in the first place. i could only imagine how much troubles everybody had to go through with this divorce and the fact that i was a child, who needed to grow up properly. it had definitely been a heck of a journey for all of them. both sides, everybody. just everybody. everybody...
fact that my mother had to leave me with my aunt, to work, to earn a living to support me, to make sure that i would grow up, having a normal life.
fact that i had to stay with my aunt's family eventhough i was not her own child, my aunt gave me all the love she could possibly give me.
fact that my uncle had to allow me into his house, and hold responsibilities for i was living under his roof.
fact that everybody had to go through so much crap, i really don't see how i could not blame myself for all this.
some may say it had been my parents fault in the first place. but the blame would be neverending that way.
i don't know what it feels like to have a proper mother's love nor a father's love. i don't even want to go near that thought sometimes. cause i would end up, stoning, not knowing how to respond. and honestly, sometimes i feel bad for my mother, cause i can't bond with her as much as i could with my aunt. it is as though, my aunt had become my mother while my mother had become my father. somesort that way. but i still feel unattached to my mother like how i should be, i tried, but i never really could.
i remember crying everytime my momma had to leave and go back for work. for i knew when she leaves, it would be months before i could see her again. but as i grew up, i got used to the fact that she would have to leave me anyhow, and it just felt as though it didn't really matter if she came back or not, cause she had to leave again. did the bond disappear? nope, she is still my mother, the fact that she still come home and tried to keep the bond was admirable.
as for my father? if i am not mistaken, i was forbidden to meet him until i was slightly older enough? about 6-7 years of age where i could see him again. i don't know, but he was just a complete black hole for me. i fear him somehow.
i am slightly lost in my own thoughts right now.
heh. sorry.
but i know i have to keep that bond with my mother, for she had sacrificed so much, just to make sure i grew up well. my father played no role in the process of me growing up, it was all my mother and my aunt.
complicants have always been around within families.
we all have our own different stories. and based on how we were brought up, it had definitely shaped us for who we are. i guess that sense of insecurity kicks in when people somehow could not accept you for who you are. you start wondering where had you gone wrong, when the fact is, you were perfect the way you are.
you can say that i am arrogant here, but i believe i have every right to be who i am today. looking back from where i came from, i am blessed.
" Hi! I'm Kimberly, my parents divorced and i have lived with my aunt and her family since the age of 2. =) "
that, should be sufficient enough, yeah?
lol. i seriously need to focus on this one. cause it's some sort of a buried thought of mine that i never really thought of bringing it back into realtime. it didn't feel necessary at all, to be honest. but i somehow came across this thought, so i guess it is about time that i talk about this, in a proper manner, in an adult way... or so called adult way. let's just see if i will still come across this matter in a matter of... 10 years time from now? we shall see. time will indeed tell. alright, here goes nothing. =)
father. daddy.
i never really had the chance to use them almost ever. yes, i may use them in conversations, but it was never about mine. i choose not to talk about mine. as mentioned, it felt unnecessary. i would always go by the same old story. this story used to be one heck of a tough one to talk about when i was little, but as i grew up, i shortened the whole damn story into just one mere sentence. it was getting tired talking about the whole story from the beginning, in addition to the fact that i may not talk to these people whom i just told my whole long face numbing story from the start to the end, it didn't feel necessary to tell the whole story anymore. thus, it just tires me out.
"parents divorced, been staying with my aunt since two."
one sentence. short and simple, the icing of the cake, just enough. even with that, the person who had just listen to it would have been numbed and would not know how to respond to you already. hence, the awkwardness. which then gets much more tiring, trying to pump up a topic, changing that awkward moment there.
when i was a kid, i would walk about, looking at how my friends had happy families, mother, father, child, hand in hand, smilling and laughing. just being a happy family. i was really envious then. my mother was never really around, i have no idea who my father is like. i felt jealous that i could not have the same life my friends did. all this while, i grew up, living with my aunt and her family. no memories of being rejected by another family who took care of me for a short period of time until i was told about last year or so. i couldn't call my aunt mummy, or my uncle daddy, but i called my cousin brother and cousin sister, kor kor and jie jie, my aunt remains as yee yee and uncle as yee jiong.
watching my friends running towards their mothers and being loved and all ways possible. one friend whom i gotten close somewhere around the last year of primary school, got me envious, for i got to stay over at her place for a night, saw how her family was like. i didn't have that. but i had my aunt who had taken care of me, without fail, up until today. and my brother and sister who have gotten to accept me as their little sister. it wasn't until recently that my uncle had finally accepted me as 'family'.
blessed that i could grow up in this family, they were educated. could not have imagined what it would be like if i had not lived with this family. i owe this family my life. i really believe i do.
who my father is.
it's just one weird topic altogether to even be discussed about. i, have his genes, his blood, i do look like him in someways, but i don't know who he is, and best of all, i am actually afraid of him.
growing up, i only knew my father as someone who gets drunk and takes all my mother's hard earned money, just so he could go and buy more alcohol to be consumed. it gave me an image that all drunk people are scary, causing me to have this generalised thought that people will lose their minds when they are drunk, not caring about almost anything at all.
i was told that i am afraid of everything. would just cry at the sight of anything that would scare the crap out of me. those coin paid rides? where you see kids enjoying themselves on them? marry go rounds? i was afraid of those. and i was told that i was afraid was probably cause i saw my father hitting my mother or somesort that got me scared of EVERYTHING.
talk about conditioning and generalising. it is no doubt proven in my case. haha
if one were to ask me about my father,
i honestly have no clue who he is. i have only met him a few times in my life after i had started to stay with my aunt. even so, i was almost terrified whenever i meet him. and i believe i still am scared today. the fact that he is my father, and i know nothing of him, was just... unacceptable.
damn. my life really does seem screwed up. omg.
as you age, you start to discover more and more about the days when you had no clue what was happening when you were much younger. you tend to understand things better, accepting why it had happened, why it had to happen that way and it just goes on. the realisation part had always been the hardest part for me to accept.
it still is.
cause when you were younger, you couldn't bother less on what was happening, YOU JUST WANT TO HAVE FUN. there wasn't any point in understanding complicated things then.
when the teachers in my primary school asked the students to bring their birth cert, i would look at theirs on how different theirs were as compared to mine. i realised mine was printed on the year 1995. no, i was still born on 1993. it wasn't until last year that i knew why. it turns out that my father had come around to take my birthcert away from me or something, and that my aunt had to go file a police report, saying that it was missing, to replace the 'stolen' one. hence, the difference in my birthcert as compared to everyone else's. 1995. noted.
then sometime last year i was wondering, why didn't the marriage work out, and how come the marriage was so short that i had to live with my aunt since the age of 2. i questioned my mother, but i didn't get a clear answer, i made a conclusion that if i had existed, they would most probably had not gotten married in the first place. well, i got the answer just recently. parents wedding date : 25th August 1992. well. i was born on the 26th of February 1993. 7 months pregnancy. i do not recall any story about me being a baby that was lucky enough to survive a premature delivery. i guess my conclusion was proven right after all.
there have been countless number of times where i had blamed myself on everything that has happened around me. for i believed, nothing as bad as these would have occured if i had not existed in the first place. i could only imagine how much troubles everybody had to go through with this divorce and the fact that i was a child, who needed to grow up properly. it had definitely been a heck of a journey for all of them. both sides, everybody. just everybody. everybody...
fact that my mother had to leave me with my aunt, to work, to earn a living to support me, to make sure that i would grow up, having a normal life.
fact that i had to stay with my aunt's family eventhough i was not her own child, my aunt gave me all the love she could possibly give me.
fact that my uncle had to allow me into his house, and hold responsibilities for i was living under his roof.
fact that everybody had to go through so much crap, i really don't see how i could not blame myself for all this.
some may say it had been my parents fault in the first place. but the blame would be neverending that way.
i don't know what it feels like to have a proper mother's love nor a father's love. i don't even want to go near that thought sometimes. cause i would end up, stoning, not knowing how to respond. and honestly, sometimes i feel bad for my mother, cause i can't bond with her as much as i could with my aunt. it is as though, my aunt had become my mother while my mother had become my father. somesort that way. but i still feel unattached to my mother like how i should be, i tried, but i never really could.
i remember crying everytime my momma had to leave and go back for work. for i knew when she leaves, it would be months before i could see her again. but as i grew up, i got used to the fact that she would have to leave me anyhow, and it just felt as though it didn't really matter if she came back or not, cause she had to leave again. did the bond disappear? nope, she is still my mother, the fact that she still come home and tried to keep the bond was admirable.
as for my father? if i am not mistaken, i was forbidden to meet him until i was slightly older enough? about 6-7 years of age where i could see him again. i don't know, but he was just a complete black hole for me. i fear him somehow.
i am slightly lost in my own thoughts right now.
heh. sorry.
but i know i have to keep that bond with my mother, for she had sacrificed so much, just to make sure i grew up well. my father played no role in the process of me growing up, it was all my mother and my aunt.
complicants have always been around within families.
we all have our own different stories. and based on how we were brought up, it had definitely shaped us for who we are. i guess that sense of insecurity kicks in when people somehow could not accept you for who you are. you start wondering where had you gone wrong, when the fact is, you were perfect the way you are.
you can say that i am arrogant here, but i believe i have every right to be who i am today. looking back from where i came from, i am blessed.
" Hi! I'm Kimberly, my parents divorced and i have lived with my aunt and her family since the age of 2. =) "
that, should be sufficient enough, yeah?
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
I am stubborn as hell.
Strong first sentence there, eyh? At least I am admitting something that I have been denying all my life. Yeah, I am still young, but this is as far as I can get. And the only way to continue on with my life, is to be completely honest with myself. Being stubborn had probably been the reason why guys only see me as a sister sort of person but never a girlfriend kinda person. I get to hardheaded that I just simply does not allow the person into my life however it is. Stubborn to a point where it worries both my mom and aunt. Stubborn enough to think that I am a boss of my own life once I step over into another country all by myself.
I soon realised the consequence I had been facing with my stubbornness. And I would have to say, I did try to be less stubborn, and be more of a listener. Little did I know, I have indeed opened myself up to different things as compared than those days where I kept myself restricted. Listening to what matters most, what they have to say, probably having it the way they were trying to tell me. Well honestly, it provided me with a much safer path, with knowing what I was about to face, things became easier to accept.
Being stubborn, is something I grew up with. If one asks me to change immediately, that is bullshit. It takes time, but the decision had been made. I didnt want to worry my mom and my aunt, and be some dumbtard over there in Australia all alone, for not wanting to listen to advices.
Cause honestly, I thought I would be prepared for anything. Thought stand corrected. For I recently went Singapore with a friend of mine. It was just the two of us, barely even reaching our mental adult ages, all alone in Singapore. I honestly felt like a kid when I was there, waiting for a cab to the hotel. It was then that I realised how stubborn I had been all this while. Yes, I may have let my hair down during my college year, but I was still stubborn regardless. The fact that I was being a hardheaded atheist sometime last year, proved so. Because by the end of the year, I found myself believing in god. Though I have no clue who I was praying to, or what religion I was praying with, I just felt stupid for resisting the presence of god.
Did that not prove how stubborn I had been? I should very well be an agnostic. Some wicked story behind that believe, religion just seemed like some crap all over again. I dont think I would have enough days in my lifetime to learn about all kinds of religions before I die, if I were to be a freethinker, trying to accept every religion there is out there, I'll probably end up crazy, trying to link one to the other and why it was different to begin with, eventhough there are evidence of the same story somewhere within those teachings. A stubborn person like me, refuse to admit that I believed that god existed. Simply because I didnt want to depend on Him.
But I was brought up to be visiting temples. Not much of churches, but temples. It was only when I was growing up that friends invited me for church gathering and events and such. I, never fail to feel dizzy after the services. Never once. Today, I realise, it was because I'd me resisting the presence of god, and the fact that I did not understand who were they praying to with that amount of devotion, got me thinking alot; just gets my head feeling extremely heavy. The perks of being stubborn. ;D
I came across a good friend of mine, praying on random occasions, telling me that she believes god had planned things for her and that He was listening to her. Got me really sceptical. Considering how much a good friend can really influence you, this, is one. What she told me, got me thinking. ALOT.
As the year was coming to an end, I saw myself wanting to go temples to pray for a good result with my wace and also praying that He would take care of both my mom and aunt for me while I will be away, busy finding my own life. It just felt like it was necessary. And that was all I asked for. It was something I couldnt do on my own, but I wanted to have that secure feeling that someone would be out there, looking out for the two of them. I pray. While praying, the praying guy who was humming chants to the god asking god to protect me and all sorts, the only thing I did then was, "no, don't protect me, protect my mom and my aunt, not me". That was what I was saying in my head the whole time when he chanted.
I prayed to kuan yin. God should be a she... Omg. Screw that shit. I just wanted to admit that I do pray. Religions, gods, beliefs, it all depends on the individual.
Actually stumbled across this video on youtube, a poem on how this guy loves Jesus but not the religion. And then there was a response video by this atheist guy, dressed in a worn out t-shirt, holding a glass of wine, using the f word as though it was ABC. I understand that the atheist disagrees with what the poem video was about, but. What I did not understand was why he couldnt just question and comment in a manner that could be much more... Smart? It felt offensive, the way he responded to that poem video about how different between believing in god and believing in the religion. That poem had no sense of offensiveness, yet the response given by this responses video was indeed a brainless one. Couldnt help but to stop watching after a minute in. Truth is, we all have different opinions on what we believe in, there is not one opinion that is right nor wrong, thus there was no point of proving that your opinion is the right one at all. Being offensive is just inappropriate. We may question, we may comment, BUT NOT THRASH! Dear brainless people, please, for the sake of humanity, please use your brains eventhough we believe that it is empty up there. =/
Owh, and that video got me thinking of how stubborn I was. Saw myself being reflected a little by that atheist guy, honestly. And it got me thinking. Stubborn? Right now, I have decided to throw that away, burrying it in the earth where it could never be found again. In order to lessen the worry feeling in my dear mother and my dear auntie, I hereby decide to stop being stubborn and resistant. I, will get there. =)
Strong first sentence there, eyh? At least I am admitting something that I have been denying all my life. Yeah, I am still young, but this is as far as I can get. And the only way to continue on with my life, is to be completely honest with myself. Being stubborn had probably been the reason why guys only see me as a sister sort of person but never a girlfriend kinda person. I get to hardheaded that I just simply does not allow the person into my life however it is. Stubborn to a point where it worries both my mom and aunt. Stubborn enough to think that I am a boss of my own life once I step over into another country all by myself.
I soon realised the consequence I had been facing with my stubbornness. And I would have to say, I did try to be less stubborn, and be more of a listener. Little did I know, I have indeed opened myself up to different things as compared than those days where I kept myself restricted. Listening to what matters most, what they have to say, probably having it the way they were trying to tell me. Well honestly, it provided me with a much safer path, with knowing what I was about to face, things became easier to accept.
Being stubborn, is something I grew up with. If one asks me to change immediately, that is bullshit. It takes time, but the decision had been made. I didnt want to worry my mom and my aunt, and be some dumbtard over there in Australia all alone, for not wanting to listen to advices.
Cause honestly, I thought I would be prepared for anything. Thought stand corrected. For I recently went Singapore with a friend of mine. It was just the two of us, barely even reaching our mental adult ages, all alone in Singapore. I honestly felt like a kid when I was there, waiting for a cab to the hotel. It was then that I realised how stubborn I had been all this while. Yes, I may have let my hair down during my college year, but I was still stubborn regardless. The fact that I was being a hardheaded atheist sometime last year, proved so. Because by the end of the year, I found myself believing in god. Though I have no clue who I was praying to, or what religion I was praying with, I just felt stupid for resisting the presence of god.
Did that not prove how stubborn I had been? I should very well be an agnostic. Some wicked story behind that believe, religion just seemed like some crap all over again. I dont think I would have enough days in my lifetime to learn about all kinds of religions before I die, if I were to be a freethinker, trying to accept every religion there is out there, I'll probably end up crazy, trying to link one to the other and why it was different to begin with, eventhough there are evidence of the same story somewhere within those teachings. A stubborn person like me, refuse to admit that I believed that god existed. Simply because I didnt want to depend on Him.
But I was brought up to be visiting temples. Not much of churches, but temples. It was only when I was growing up that friends invited me for church gathering and events and such. I, never fail to feel dizzy after the services. Never once. Today, I realise, it was because I'd me resisting the presence of god, and the fact that I did not understand who were they praying to with that amount of devotion, got me thinking alot; just gets my head feeling extremely heavy. The perks of being stubborn. ;D
I came across a good friend of mine, praying on random occasions, telling me that she believes god had planned things for her and that He was listening to her. Got me really sceptical. Considering how much a good friend can really influence you, this, is one. What she told me, got me thinking. ALOT.
As the year was coming to an end, I saw myself wanting to go temples to pray for a good result with my wace and also praying that He would take care of both my mom and aunt for me while I will be away, busy finding my own life. It just felt like it was necessary. And that was all I asked for. It was something I couldnt do on my own, but I wanted to have that secure feeling that someone would be out there, looking out for the two of them. I pray. While praying, the praying guy who was humming chants to the god asking god to protect me and all sorts, the only thing I did then was, "no, don't protect me, protect my mom and my aunt, not me". That was what I was saying in my head the whole time when he chanted.
I prayed to kuan yin. God should be a she... Omg. Screw that shit. I just wanted to admit that I do pray. Religions, gods, beliefs, it all depends on the individual.
Actually stumbled across this video on youtube, a poem on how this guy loves Jesus but not the religion. And then there was a response video by this atheist guy, dressed in a worn out t-shirt, holding a glass of wine, using the f word as though it was ABC. I understand that the atheist disagrees with what the poem video was about, but. What I did not understand was why he couldnt just question and comment in a manner that could be much more... Smart? It felt offensive, the way he responded to that poem video about how different between believing in god and believing in the religion. That poem had no sense of offensiveness, yet the response given by this responses video was indeed a brainless one. Couldnt help but to stop watching after a minute in. Truth is, we all have different opinions on what we believe in, there is not one opinion that is right nor wrong, thus there was no point of proving that your opinion is the right one at all. Being offensive is just inappropriate. We may question, we may comment, BUT NOT THRASH! Dear brainless people, please, for the sake of humanity, please use your brains eventhough we believe that it is empty up there. =/
Owh, and that video got me thinking of how stubborn I was. Saw myself being reflected a little by that atheist guy, honestly. And it got me thinking. Stubborn? Right now, I have decided to throw that away, burrying it in the earth where it could never be found again. In order to lessen the worry feeling in my dear mother and my dear auntie, I hereby decide to stop being stubborn and resistant. I, will get there. =)
Monday, January 16, 2012
i remembered there was a period of time where i was writing to my friends, back at the previous school before i shifted to puchong. reminiscing those days, i decided to search around the house for those hidden treasures. sure enough, they were still there, a piece of the past that could not be turned over or changed in anyway. it felt as though time had stopped for a while, going back to those days when i got those letters.
it was then, when we were still young, facebook wasnt as easily accesible, phones were restricted because we were still too young to manage our own expenditure on the credits, and we couldn't drive out to meet each other as easily as we could today. then, writing letters were actually one magic that kept our friendship strong until this very day. it all depends on how truthful the contents were, and that honesty does play a huge role on how the friendship would last after a few years down the road.
best of all, these letters written by them can be kept, and it will somehow turn antique. one you can look at in the future, and reminisce on what had happened. unlike how we have conversations on facebook or texts, we can't really keep those. and if i feel frustrated, and because it was that easily accesable, out of frustration, i would just click the 'delete' button and there it goes, nowhere to be found again. one can choose to throw letters and cards too. but the fact that it is RARE to get cards and letter these days, we would actually think a few times before we dispose them. and would probably end up with us tossing them somewhere, until time would stop us to make us look at it once more. imagine if it had already been burnt, we would have regretted that move we made that decision in the first place.
technology has yet to be as romantic as how the past used to be. we would see how touching a mere letter from her dear husband who is far away, probably in war, would mean to this lonely wife back at home, waiting in agony. that's an idea i got from a movie i watched quite sometime ago. i understood what it felt like. writing had always been a tough thing to do. try asking someone random to write something random, it would probably be much more difficult as compared to saying it out. one does not realise the exquisite feeling one gets when one writes on a piece of paper, specially for that special someone, and for that someone to receive that specially written message, is indeed breathtaking.
much exaggerations, though i doubt i can be proved wrong in this term. we may have people writing fake responses from time to time, but we can never tell. and because it is harder to interprete a written letter, a person has to write in a manner where it would be understood by the reader. writing would have to be as detailed as possible in order to be understood, for in general, people have different perception in things. it could be the factor that people tend to get slightly lazy when they are bombarded with a page full or words. there had to be something in there somewhere, no? and if someone finds NOTHING in it, they would probably have wasted their time on reading through the whole thing.
there had not one time where writing had been a complete waste. there had always been some secret message hidden within each message WRITTEN. otherwise, why spend so much time WRITING? even when one tries to waste time by writing, there had been an intention, some substance somewhere. for writing requires substance. however fictional it may be, however truthful it is, there is a reason somewhere, somewhere.
i still find writing letters really thoughtful. even if it is just a mere birthday card with the words printed, happy birthday and a signature right at the bottom of the card, it means something. that person may not have the guts to write something, but he or she had the heart to get a card, to make an effort in placing the signature there and giving it to you.
a person like me who keeps letters and cards given to me, tells me alot. it keeps me feeling secure, that i had people who cared for me and that i should not be worried for whatever the future brings, for at that particular moment, these people were there, these people had me in their minds, these people cared, these people were just who they were. though times in the future may tell you, 'where had this person disappeared to? i used to get such awesome wishes and all, but where are you now?!', does it really matter? your past was awesome as it is, people change, life wooshes everyone everywhere, at least you had an awesome past. nothing else really matters. =)
i read people's blogs. they tell a different story that you don't really see in face time.
writing a personal letter someone means the world to you, and also to the other person, who will be reading it. definitely something you can ever get through facebook messages or even emails.
blogs are of a different case altogether. blogs are dependent on how the bloggers uses it. if it is meant to touch people's lives, then it could very well do so. maybe some would just spam their daily lives as their relieval for their stressful days. dependent.
writing is just different.
it was then, when we were still young, facebook wasnt as easily accesible, phones were restricted because we were still too young to manage our own expenditure on the credits, and we couldn't drive out to meet each other as easily as we could today. then, writing letters were actually one magic that kept our friendship strong until this very day. it all depends on how truthful the contents were, and that honesty does play a huge role on how the friendship would last after a few years down the road.
best of all, these letters written by them can be kept, and it will somehow turn antique. one you can look at in the future, and reminisce on what had happened. unlike how we have conversations on facebook or texts, we can't really keep those. and if i feel frustrated, and because it was that easily accesable, out of frustration, i would just click the 'delete' button and there it goes, nowhere to be found again. one can choose to throw letters and cards too. but the fact that it is RARE to get cards and letter these days, we would actually think a few times before we dispose them. and would probably end up with us tossing them somewhere, until time would stop us to make us look at it once more. imagine if it had already been burnt, we would have regretted that move we made that decision in the first place.
technology has yet to be as romantic as how the past used to be. we would see how touching a mere letter from her dear husband who is far away, probably in war, would mean to this lonely wife back at home, waiting in agony. that's an idea i got from a movie i watched quite sometime ago. i understood what it felt like. writing had always been a tough thing to do. try asking someone random to write something random, it would probably be much more difficult as compared to saying it out. one does not realise the exquisite feeling one gets when one writes on a piece of paper, specially for that special someone, and for that someone to receive that specially written message, is indeed breathtaking.
much exaggerations, though i doubt i can be proved wrong in this term. we may have people writing fake responses from time to time, but we can never tell. and because it is harder to interprete a written letter, a person has to write in a manner where it would be understood by the reader. writing would have to be as detailed as possible in order to be understood, for in general, people have different perception in things. it could be the factor that people tend to get slightly lazy when they are bombarded with a page full or words. there had to be something in there somewhere, no? and if someone finds NOTHING in it, they would probably have wasted their time on reading through the whole thing.
there had not one time where writing had been a complete waste. there had always been some secret message hidden within each message WRITTEN. otherwise, why spend so much time WRITING? even when one tries to waste time by writing, there had been an intention, some substance somewhere. for writing requires substance. however fictional it may be, however truthful it is, there is a reason somewhere, somewhere.
i still find writing letters really thoughtful. even if it is just a mere birthday card with the words printed, happy birthday and a signature right at the bottom of the card, it means something. that person may not have the guts to write something, but he or she had the heart to get a card, to make an effort in placing the signature there and giving it to you.
a person like me who keeps letters and cards given to me, tells me alot. it keeps me feeling secure, that i had people who cared for me and that i should not be worried for whatever the future brings, for at that particular moment, these people were there, these people had me in their minds, these people cared, these people were just who they were. though times in the future may tell you, 'where had this person disappeared to? i used to get such awesome wishes and all, but where are you now?!', does it really matter? your past was awesome as it is, people change, life wooshes everyone everywhere, at least you had an awesome past. nothing else really matters. =)
i read people's blogs. they tell a different story that you don't really see in face time.
writing a personal letter someone means the world to you, and also to the other person, who will be reading it. definitely something you can ever get through facebook messages or even emails.
blogs are of a different case altogether. blogs are dependent on how the bloggers uses it. if it is meant to touch people's lives, then it could very well do so. maybe some would just spam their daily lives as their relieval for their stressful days. dependent.
writing is just different.
Behind every happiness, there lies a story of hardship that had to be faced beforehand.
There is no such thing as a spoon fed happiness or even a success. For each and every effort plays a big role in contributing to the award given at the end of the ordeal, that satisfactory feeling that it had all been worth it, that it was all necessary to begin with.
We all have our own stories to tell the world, but what we dont realise sometimes, is that the others had their own stories too, stories that made them for who they are today. And when we listen to them, listening to them sincerely, we subconsciously open ourselves to what other possibilities of a 'happy ending' would turn out to be like. Such happy endings should inspire us, to create our own happy ending and not trying to be photocopy machines, thinking that we too could have the exact happy ending as they had. After all, we all live our own lives, we decided what we do, and our lives are only dependent on what we do. Though we have similarities every now and then, but we never find two individuals having the exact DNA profiles, personalities, and what more, life?
If you do stop to wonder, why is it that you would have to go through so much trouble when you were to do something. Be it organising a trip, planning your future, or even deciding what to eat. Sometimes we were spoilt with choices that we just dont know which was the best option. Some would have to go through a longer and much more gruelling journey before they could find their happily ever after. You hear people telling you stories, sometimes, you feel as though your journey had been a rougher one and you couldnt bother less about what the other person has to say. But hey, a little listening doesn't hurt, does it? It's just that weird pleasure we have when we share our journeys with others, surely you'd like to be heard too. After all, it is not your responsibility in determining their happily ever after, it would still be their own effort anyhow.
By the end of the day, those rough paths would end up with us finding what we all have been searching for, our happily ever after moment. I used to think happily ever afters were bullshit. Well, I guess cause the journey has yet to reach its end yet, and it does feel like I am reaching it somehow, someday. I will. I definitely will. And if you thought you found it, but suddenly something else comes up and tosses everything upside down, it just means that you havent reach it yet. You'll get there someday. The day where you feel genuinely happy and sincerely peaceful, both in your heart, mind and soul.
Nobody is born wicked.
There is no such thing as a spoon fed happiness or even a success. For each and every effort plays a big role in contributing to the award given at the end of the ordeal, that satisfactory feeling that it had all been worth it, that it was all necessary to begin with.
We all have our own stories to tell the world, but what we dont realise sometimes, is that the others had their own stories too, stories that made them for who they are today. And when we listen to them, listening to them sincerely, we subconsciously open ourselves to what other possibilities of a 'happy ending' would turn out to be like. Such happy endings should inspire us, to create our own happy ending and not trying to be photocopy machines, thinking that we too could have the exact happy ending as they had. After all, we all live our own lives, we decided what we do, and our lives are only dependent on what we do. Though we have similarities every now and then, but we never find two individuals having the exact DNA profiles, personalities, and what more, life?
If you do stop to wonder, why is it that you would have to go through so much trouble when you were to do something. Be it organising a trip, planning your future, or even deciding what to eat. Sometimes we were spoilt with choices that we just dont know which was the best option. Some would have to go through a longer and much more gruelling journey before they could find their happily ever after. You hear people telling you stories, sometimes, you feel as though your journey had been a rougher one and you couldnt bother less about what the other person has to say. But hey, a little listening doesn't hurt, does it? It's just that weird pleasure we have when we share our journeys with others, surely you'd like to be heard too. After all, it is not your responsibility in determining their happily ever after, it would still be their own effort anyhow.
By the end of the day, those rough paths would end up with us finding what we all have been searching for, our happily ever after moment. I used to think happily ever afters were bullshit. Well, I guess cause the journey has yet to reach its end yet, and it does feel like I am reaching it somehow, someday. I will. I definitely will. And if you thought you found it, but suddenly something else comes up and tosses everything upside down, it just means that you havent reach it yet. You'll get there someday. The day where you feel genuinely happy and sincerely peaceful, both in your heart, mind and soul.
Nobody is born wicked.
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