.

Well, then.

2010-12-06T20:37:00.004+07:00

I'm in a stage in my relationship where I miss my precious man so much that I pout alone in my room, feeling forlorn and, after years and years of not writing on account of lacking the emotional triggers, automatically open a new file and type away. That kind of foolish sentimentality.

I love it, though. I'm in a stage in my life where I'm aware of most of my emotions, and I know I'm being silly and utterly, unnecessarily, emotionally dependent. Being lovestruck is a beautiful thing.

I also know that it can make me unreasonably sensitive to anything - like being sad because I'd told him I miss him and he hadn't replied. It's just those stupid things. I'm sure the little girl in me just LOVED having a reason to feel lonely and abandoned, but the fact is, I'm not. I'm in a great relationship, perhaps the best one yet, with a guy whom I trust, respect and care for.

So as nice as it is to gaze mournfully out the window as I regret being so open and vulnerable to a man who just doesn't understand how important a text message is, I should stop looking for reasons to be so damn depressed, because really, I don't know how it can get better than this.

About Bubbles (or is it?)

2009-06-03T15:25:00.004+07:00

I told this story to a friend of mine and apparently it's got a very interesting allegory in it. Or maybe it's just him:

Soap bubbles entice me in a way that nothing else can.

First of all, I think it's because we rarely get to enjoy a lot of free floating objects. A balloon floating in the air, for example, does not invite that much awe, but more on concerns over which poor 5 year-old lost their grip. On that note, a hot air balloon is another equally magical thing, maybe because it served its purpose as being entertaining just by floating around freely.

So among those few entertaining floaters, soap bubbles are perhaps the most (literally) down-to-earth, since everyone can make them. I think this fact made me appreciate them even more - the moment that soap film curved into a round shape, then as we snapped the wand to let go of the bubble and it became ovale-shaped for half a second before it bobs beautifully right on your face. As you look at the light colours and extremely light movement, a bubble as good as any other, you wonder in your insecure childhood mind : "How did I make THAT?"
I honestly think it's the closest thing to pure magic I will ever witness.

Now.

As I've repeatedly argued, being "grown up" does not mean you forget your childhood dreams. Being an adult should empower it. And so one day I realized I can do just that - now that I've grown, I should push to grow the size of my bubbles too. Maximizing what my college years had taught me, I looked for the most logical solution and googled "how to make giant bubble".

Fate brought me to Professor Bubbles, where I learned the serious art of bubble making. The fact that it was serious enticed me - I must be on for more magical moments! - so I obediently boiled my tap water (this is called "soft water", as I'm told), looked for the recommended soap dish brand (nothing made for machine use - too harsh) and persuaded my parents to prescribe a bottle of glycerin from the hospital. I have no idea how these three ingredients can make any difference to the store-bought mixture, but as I learned later, there are much more than just putting three strange elements together. In the next couple of weeks, I tried my luck at the mixture, failed, and repeatedly went back to Google only to find "how did I miss that?" tips.

This site told me that, when mixing, I have to stir very very slowly, as suds and foams (which ironically are little bubbles) are bubble busters. If I stirred too quickly and found suds, "carefully spoon them away from the surface". These additional-tips websites normally add some learning values to this, such as "explain to your children that in this game, patience is very important", which is sort of depressing to read for a 23-year-old.

Bubble Town, which I think is the most helpful site overall, stated that it's best to let the solution sit overnight. Upon further searches to back this tip up, I found consistent disagreements in whether the solution should be left uncovered or sealed. Deciding there was no way I would know better, I tried both.

And then there's the wand itself. I learned that straws, pipe cleaners and cookie cutters are all acceptable, but for giant bubbles, consider the classic wire hanger - turned into a ring shape. I experimented with all sorts of sticks, picking some off the streets, bending and polishing them, experimented with different ways. But no matter how I blow out of them, it's not giving the satisfying effect. The bubbles are mediocre.

I didn't want to resort to this because I know what will show up on Google, but I realized I had to master the trick of blowing. Remember: always specify the blowing skills you wish to look for. After being educated in ways I could never think of, I found that ultimate professionals, those who measure their bubbles in meter, often rely on wind. Wind-blown bubbles are usually supported by a special wand, made of sticks and three pieces of strings. Looking at the 8 steps needed to make the wand (and still not knowing how to use it), I realized this was getting way too serious for me. I had to settle for the paper cone version - which was complicated enough.

On top of everything, I also had to learn to control the bubble. Bubble Town suggested I started practicing in a closed space with no wind, as "big bubbles are harder to control" (I didn't even realize this was a bad thing), which I think kills the magic, so I ignored it. Then I found out that the correct way to blow a bubble is to do it horizontally first (so your cone is facing down) because you want the bubble to drip off any excess solution. Once it's the size intended, start tilting the cone upward and carefully flick the bubble to freedom. It's important to flick instead of just pulling the wand away. Not even Cosmo can give a more precise how-to-blow guide.

After 2 months of concoctions, experiments with wind and wands, and practicing my blowing technique, I finally nailed it. The bubbles weren't as big as I dreamed it to be, then again I've dreamed it to be at least half as big as me. It's liberating to know how many people are as into bubbles as I am, and it's scary to know just how many people are serious about their giant bubbles - World Record is 2.98 cubic metres. I guess when I've acquired the skills and professionalism necessary, I'll get to enjoy bigger sizes too.

I've said it before and I'll keep saying it again.

2009-01-23T22:01:00.003+07:00

I'm sick of feeling lonely but I don't know how to make it go away. Obviously this isn't some form of isolated-lonely, since I go to work and interact with people every day, all day, nor is it a form of boredom-lonely, because I've done enough sudden road trips or self-pampering to know that excitement can easily come from watching a Scrubs marathon. Incidentally, that's what I'm doing right now.

I guess I just feel lonely at heart (whatever that means). And look, I've thought, talked and written about this for many times, and I still don't know how this came to be. I've had people telling me that I got stuck feeling lonely because I LIKE feeling lonely. And like any self-deprecating individual, I understand where this is coming from, but how would I know for sure if I really subconsciously want to feel like this or not? It's called subconsciousness for a reason.

And you know what, I don't care. Maybe I secretly enjoy feeling sorry for myself, or maybe years of being antisocial has finally left me with no one. Whatever the reason is, I don't want to feel lonely anymore. I hate it. It makes me sad and needy, and I look sad and needy, and neither can be good for my social life.

So I ended up feeling alone again, for no particular reason, and I got up and tried talking to someone for a change (instead of sulking in the corner, which I used to resort to) and sometimes, I'll just have the pleasant surprise of finding out that people just don't give a crap. I can see it from the way they start uhh-ing and ahm-ing when I started talking. A few words of kindness. A sincere explanation that they really have to go. And off they went. I swear, nothing will reduce you more than realizing that people close to you are in fact too busy for you. It screws with your mind because they're your good friends, you thought you can afford being selfish, then you realized you're being TOO selfish because let's face it, even your close friends have issues of their own, and you can't demand their full attention to you. No matter how much you want it. If you didn't get it, you didn't deserve it.

And no, I do NOT think all of my friends are like that. I've had times when someone really did cheer me up, to which I'm eternally grateful, but here's the news : they're rare, and most of them are too compassionate to be listening to someone like me. They're much much better off being with people who can give them as much attention as they're giving out, because they deserved it.

This sucks.

On Taking Deep Breaths

2009-01-01T00:00:00.004+07:00

I'm sick of doing it.

It sort of symbolizes me wanting to be strong (which I'm not) through these very hard times (which I often conjure up myself) while still allowing me to feel sad and pathetic over the whole situation (which I often am).

I'm typing this on my last day at this gorgeous office, knowing full well that I may never again get a chance to see this much fireworks from atop.

Then again, maybe I will. We really are not able to signify our situations proportionally - there are thousands of people out there going apes over a change in time (for God's sake, I'm standing on level 40 and I can here people counting down on the streets), and there are thousands sleeping at home, having no business over how time changes. This is my last day at work and I'm barely thinking about it, but I know there may be a time later when I'll wail about it. This moment could be everything or it could be nothing. And there's no way you can tell.

I don't like the fact that I think everything is important. It tips off my balance. I can't stay sane if I think all moments are precious, and I should hold on desperately to each one of them until they're all snatched away from me. Refusing to let go is what keeps me fighting, and I know I have to fight for what I want, but this is crazy. Am I really going to be able to do this?

No. This is important for me. I'm staying.

I'll just hope I'm not the only one holding on.

The Clock is Ticking

2008-08-14T13:59:00.002+07:00

I want flexibility. I want to know that I'd be able to do whatever I think is most important, at precisely the right moment.

I want to feel that I've not wasted my life.

I want my friends to realize just how intensely I've fallen for them.

I want to see if they would do a remake of Friends.

I want to live sufficiently, enough to bask in the materialistic goodness of this world.

I want to always stay fascinated by soap bubbles.

I want to learn to juggle balls. Relating to that, I'd like to continue passing off casual but figuratively-misleading statements.

I want to learn to live like I was raised another way.

I want to be able to define my relationship with chocolate.

I want to stay comfortable with the fact that I'm not perfect. Having said that, I'd like to try making a better first impression.

I want to always believe that honesty is the best policy.

I want to be able to just..move...on.

Now that I've learned it, I want to use the word "floccinaucinihilipilification" casually and regularly.

I want to do everything I feel like doing, because asking "Why didn't I?" is much more painful than "Why did I?"

I want to fall outrageously and madly in love with someone. Actually, I would want to fall outrageously and madly in love several times, before I found someone who's willing to fall just as outrageously and madly in love.

I want to find out how I got this American accent.

I want to experience the world instead of seeing it.

I want to be able to give a compliment to anyone, anytime, preferably in front of other people, without making the person feel uncomfortable in any way.

I want to be able to handle pressure.

I want to try moving out and see if it really is the answer.

I want to stay surrounded by people who continuously puts me in awe.

I want to understand my own mind.

I want contentment.

I want to find and enjoy fantastic ideas.

I don't want to be alone.

How do you know?

2008-07-18T15:37:00.003+07:00

I'm one of those people who use the term "love" quite loosely, and I feel quite justified to do so. We don't have a standardized definition of love anyway, so nobody can really criticize me for being contextually wrong.

So I realized that I tend to use the word on something I get really excited about. That can be just about anything, and I don't even need to have a constant excitement about it, but whenever I feel that emotional jump, the word just comes out. When a bowl of spectacularly hearty pasta with chicken & mushroom was put in front of me, accompanied with heavenly-soft bread, which I ate with succulent tomatoes from the dish, I exclaimed that I love Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf (I should note here that I've been disappointed by it - their waiter once insisted that sushi should be served at 18 degrees Celcius. Probably my fault for ordering sushi in a coffee place).
The thing is, that pasta looks and tastes so good that during those moments, I forgot about the sushi incident, or how they don't take my debit card because they made an arrogantly exclusive deal with another bank, or how they don't have electrical plugs for my laptop in the non-smoking section. That pasta made me forget about all that, and for a brief period, I love the restaurant.

Another thing about "love" - by my definition at least - is that as it excites you so, you normally can't keep it to yourself. You just want the whole world to know...although that probably have something to do with me being a girl : expressing emotions through words. That's how I often find myself in outrageously excited conversations, larger intensity if I found more people in love with the same thing, but still quite intense even if it's just me blatantly describing affectionate things to anyone who's listening.

The last odd thing about my definition of "love" is this : as much as you want to be out spoken about your feelings, sometimes the only subject unaware of it may be the object of your affection (linguistics, linguistics...). This remains to be a mystery to me, but my best guess so far (as I've found from my muses) is we don't proclaim it in front of them because, of all people, we fear the reaction from those we love.

So I guess for me, that rush I get when I encounter something wonderful, so amazing that I'm willing to set aside everything else, deserve to be labeled "love". I may be on a limb here, but it's probably because my normal self is so obsessively analytic (can't stop thinking about every little thing and how they're intertwined) that I enjoy moments when I'm allowed (in fact, I'm disallowed to counter) to think about just one thing. That's when the world is wondrously simple, because it's just about a single thing that's making you happy. Nothing else matters.

And so even though I'm terribly furious at him, even though I hated him for abruptly tossing me to the side, blatantly disregarding what he himself has built up in three weeks - just like what his ex did to him, only it's seven years - and as I've built an immense dislike for him for the simple reason of making me feel bad about myself,

I forgot about all that when I'm in front of him.

You know when you're so mad at someone that you plan to say all these mean horrible insults to them, and you think about how good it would feel to be able to hurt them as much as they've hurt you? You always think "I'm not going to forgive them, no matter how they ask for it!"

And yet, magically, it all disappears at a sudden. They don't even need to do anything. When they're right there in your face - bowl of gorgeous pasta, romance interest, a wonderful performer - the only thing you can think about is that they're in front of you.

I'm furious at him, but I can't be furious when I see him.
And that's how I know.

So now I'm hearing that he doesn't have an answer, which I find odd since it really seems like he does have an answer - he just can't bring himself to say it out loud. But even if he really is confused, and if he is wondering if he's currently doing the right thing, then it's actually quite simple, because you almost don't need to think on this. The whole thing controls you - it controls your mind. And I guess just as my mind is controlled forcibly to think only about him, what should happen is whenever he sees her, anything about me (and everything else) should completely disappear. If it doesn't, then he's going the wrong way.

And that's how he'd know.

It's a bit of a mess, which incidentally is what I'm stuck in.

2008-07-04T19:10:00.005+07:00

One of the most interesting thing about my childhood is that I spent most of it in hospitals. See, both my parents are doctors.

Thankfully, or perhaps consequently, I've never been afraid of those long dim hallways, that sterile smell or gloomy rooms with sterile colors. I actually find them quite comforting, in fact, in the manner of a small child who recognizes the environment where her parents are nearby. And as I grow up, I had quite a bit of fun watching other people coming to hospitals feeling very vulnerable, and how they associate hospitals with pain because, well, pain is either the reason you came in or something you undergo while you're in.

Anyway, having spent a lot of time in hospitals and clinics, I had to grew interested in this whole process of treatment, healing, medication, etc. And it is pretty interesting, actually, looking at how people heal. The way people change gradually, physically and mentally (just playing with languages here) is quite heartening.

One subject I'm particularly fascinated about is the whole "self-healing" theory of the body. This, I'm guessing, came from the simple question of "how did people survive before modern medicine was found?" and from this you conclude that man may just in fact be perfectly capable of healing one's self without any external assistance. We don't really know how, but tales of survivals and miraculous recoveries have shown us that the human body may be more self-sustaining than we thought. Take the placebo effect. Your mind, apparently, can treat your illness just as effectively as a "real" drug can. Physically, there are more amazing feats - broken bones are naturally mended, a liver completely able to regenerate up to 50% of its damaged parts, etc.

I marvel at this because not only do these prove just how well we are designed, it also kind of made you wonder: so why do we bother with modern medicine, then? (Mind you, I probably shouldn't question this too much, as modern medicine is where my parents found their bread & butter)
I guess like any other inventions, modern medicine was made for convenience - shorter time, tangible progress, credibility, etc. So we sort of understand that the body can look after itself independently, but we still like some extra help. Just because feeling rotten is such an unpleasant feeling, such that we would like to get rid of it as soon as we can. Our loss here, as we've yet to realize, is that as our diagnosed illnesses are conveniently and swiftly treated, our tolerance for the undiagnosed ones diminishes. We understand, physiologically, that all of our pains - physically and, yes, mentally - can naturally be healed, but we're not accustomed to letting nature to do its work. We don't want to wait. It's too painful.

And so when they tell me, quite frequently, recently, that time heals everything, I actually believed them. But as I struggled through my aches, I'm left wondering why we can't find an easier way.

Thanks A Lot, God.

2008-06-09T10:22:00.001+07:00

Shouldn't man feel really, really blessed that they continue to exist despite the fact that most of them have no idea why they existed in the first place? Whatever it is that created our existence must either have an undeniable faith that humanity will eventually understand their purpose or simply has a lot of fun watching us struggle with it.

It's those overbearing moments when you're sitting somewhere quiet, minds wandering off, when you started asking yourself, "Why am I here?"

Last time I had that moment, I was sitting on the side of the street in Ho Chi Minh, waiting for a ticket box to open. As I was drinking the questionable bottled water that I bought from some guy off the streets, I wondered how in friggin' hell did I get here, and what the heck am I here for?
Of course at the time, that last question was pretty easy: I was there to visit the museum.

I doubt that one can really understand why they exist. Furthermore, I doubt that one can really understand why they're set to exist in a particular place. Why was I born here? How did I end up being in a completely different place? Why do I have a certain kind of family, and a certain set of friends? Why did I meet the people I meet?

When I was about 14, I had concluded that my purpose in life was to be quantified by how much I impacted people around me. This was a great source of distress, because I really didn't matter to people around me. I contributed bits and pieces to my social circle, but in the long run, it would not have mattered whether I existed or not. So eventually I gave up and decided that my purpose in life was to sit in the corner and watch carefully as other people's life unfolds. At the very least, it's good entertainment. It was a revelation that I was forced to be content with.

Now, after 8 years, after being exposed to numerous personal developments and a small group of inspirational muses...I still find it hard to argue with my 14-year-old self. It's ridiculous. Here I am, with a completely new life attitude, a good set of logic, and I thought this would surely bring a new perspective of why I'm here. It just can't be that pathetic. And yet, over and over again, life has shown me that I am created here, in this world, in this situation, in this circle, to sit in the corner and watch. I wanted to argue with this fact, a lot, but this fact just kept on proving itself logically true. And again, it's a revelation that I am forced to be content with.
Source of distress? You bet. Would I change it? Yes.

But now that I seemingly understood why I exist, the next question would be : can I really change what I'm here for?

This. Is. Information Technology.

2008-06-02T09:15:00.004+07:00

I began watching American Idol on the start of Season 3. Just for the record, I do not consider myself an AI fanatic. I like watching the show, I enjoy cooing over great performers and read some Idol blogs / fan forums like everybody else. I do not, (a) pray to whomever’s in control for my favorite to win, or (b) get involved in bashing terrible contestants and hope they rot in hell for beating my favorite.

Having that said, I sort of made an effort to watch every Finale Result show.

I’m not always that lucky though. In Season 3, I did watch Fantasia won, only like a month after the original show aired. By Season 4, my cable station was able to afford live airings, which was great. I did miss the Result though, because I had back-to-back classes at the time. All day long I avoided the internet (easier said than done, given my major) and whenever someone came up to me looking excited, I’d yell, “Don’t tell me!!”

I watched the rerun later in the day, saw Carrie won, agreed that it seemed a bit pageanty, then got on with life.

By a staggeringly lucky chance, the Result of Season 5 fell on a holiday. I had the opportunity of watching the actual live Result show for the first time. I watched and celebrated (timely) as Taylor Hicks won, and immediately started downloading Elliott Yamin videos.

To be perfectly frank, I don’t remember what exactly happened on Season 6. I remembered watching Jordin won, but I think I missed the rest of the performances (which is a shame, I really like some of the Season 6 finalists). Aside from Sanjaya’s totally awesome performance, I really don’t remember much about it.

Season 7 is definitely one of the trickiest to follow. I was already working full time, and for the first time ever, my working hours are nonnegotiable.

Now.

I continuously thank my lucky stars that I studied SciComp. Granted, I may not have came out as an academically-acknowledged graduate (that’s putting it lightly) or a prospective IT professional. I did, however, learned what I’m now convinced is the single most contributive lesson in my life: There’s always another way.

I’m quite certain that I would not have learned this mentality had I not been exposed to something as wonderfully designed as IT. There really is no better proof of how there’s no such thing as a dead end (there is, however, such thing as a deadlock, and understanding the difference brought so much perspective into my life. Seriously.). No matter what problems you have, an array of alternative solutions always exists, and trying them out one by one, even if it ends on a stall, will magically provide you a rigorous learning process you’re not likely to forget (“Why can’t I call that method? I called something similar in ASM, maybe that’ll work here..”). Even if an effective solution does not exist, you can go ahead and make one. In the simplest way possible, you make technology cater your needs.

And another amazing thing about IT is the fact that once you've learned the underlying concept (which should’ve turned your brain inside out in the first place) you find that the concept is applicable everywhere. For me, that concept was how every problem has a solution, and the process of looking for a solution should be enjoyable. True, you’d normally be up all night, stare patiently at the screen, nourish yourself with any dried empty calories available, got immensely frustrated at 11 PM only to get your second wind by midnight, bang your head / fist against the wall and occasionally talk very nicely to your computer to stop torturing you, but all this should be enjoyable. And an accumulation of those nights may have reduced my sanity, my overall sleeping hours or my lifespan, but it was worth it.

Ward Cunningham (the inventor of Wikipedia) once said: “A problem is something you savor. You say, "Well that's an interesting problem. Let me think about that problem a while." You enjoy thinking about it, because when you find the solution to the problem, it's enlightening.” Bearing that in mind, solving problems became a fun activity and asking questions (even if you don’t know the answer) turned into a mentally enriching experience instead of a waste of time. Eventually, finding a solution becomes something that naturally occurs instead of occasional moments of luck.

And that’s how I ended up watching David Cook won and enjoyed the moment exactly as it happened, even as I was sitting in a conference with 60 people, no TV in sight, in an office building 14458 kilometers away from Los Angeles. Four years ago nobody would’ve thought that a rock star like Cook would’ve won American Idol. Succeeding against all boundaries is the best victory of all, and even if my epiphany was a lot less dramatic than his, I understood what it’s like to beat the odds.

Because It's Too Late at Night to be Writing Something Long.

2008-05-01T01:44:00.003+07:00

I'm such at a mellow point right now, it's not even funny.

Well, if you're feeling mellow, nothing seems funny anymore, really. There's just things swirling in your head about how far you've gone, what are you aiming for and, most importantly, why aren't you getting there?
This is a bunch of contradictions put into one. I'm so depressed thinking about my life, at the same time any small gesture can turn my mood completely. Last night a guy gave me a hug to make me feel better, and I'm still blushing now, which is so sad. True, he brilliantly identified that I seriously needed one and was willing to give it, but it wasn't even a bear hug, it was like a "friend leaving for a month" hug. Ironically, this is someone whom I used to do a LOT more than a hug with...my point is, small things seem to matter when you're focusing on the big things.

What is this? Why am I spending every vacant moment dreaming about things that shall never be? Why am I lying in bed imagining what it would be like to be so happy, you'd be giving yourself chills? Why am I listening to any available sappy songs out there, even going back to classic romances (i.e. Westlife)? Why am I looking at my phone and wondering why it's not giving me anything?

What is wrong with me?

How do you savor something that's already gone?

2007-12-14T22:14:00.000+07:00

There are several things you just enjoy in life, things that made you stick through the less enjoyable part.
Like a good macchiato when you're alone at work at 9 PM.
Or a cute guy sitting at the cafe you normally visit to think about your disastrous relationship.
Or Kanye West's "Stronger" blaring through the CD store as you passed through while on the phone scheduling a meeting.
Or a charming blog that never fails to inspire, even when you feel like a complete moron.

And just like the feeling of noticing the blog's title on the taskbar, cramped between a PowerPoint file, a Word document and a "To Do Today" note, it's extremely comforting to know that you can always resort to several pick-me-ups.
That's why it sucks like hell to have one of them yanked away from you. Sure, it was a hell of a memory, pleasantries and hopeful thoughts were present, I even managed to end it with a bang, but it still really really sucks.
I'm depressed. I know I'll be fine in a day or two, but right now I'm sad and I know there's nothing I can do to stop being sad. It'll pass. I just need to reminisce.
I just got caught in the moment.
I just have to let it out.
I just wish it didn't have to end.

For all my blessings

2007-10-03T18:26:00.000+07:00

All my life I’ve been completely insecure with myself. I was sure that I was the ugliest, stupidest, loneliest little girl. I simply don’t know how to feel good about myself, and everything good calls for validations. Grades (even though they don’t mean anything). Friends (even though they just pretend to be). Achievements (even though they came with a price).

Somehow, I changed. Internally I became so self-sufficient that any forms of bad judgments on me are not only ignorable, they’re wrong. I can prove them wrong, and I can make them regret that wrongdoing. I’m now so strong that the outside world can’t hurt me anymore.

Now I don’t know what made me change. I also don’t know whether this change represents me going forward or backward, but what I do know, I now have something I didn’t have before.

My muses.

Several people whose worlds coincide mine, some in the most random way imaginable. Most of them I wasn’t too impressed with during first encounters. It usually takes several weeks, months, maybe half a year, before I started noticing these beautiful souls. And once that came out, there was no way I could resist being charmed.

How could I not be charmed? These souls, they’re all so open. So serene and sure of their own selves, they do more than believing or rejecting outside world – they affect their world. They have the ability to accept with so much sincerity, and give back with so much passion. They make “strong people” like me wonder why we’re so proud of being strong after all. I’m so proud of being able to resist negativity that it became a significant part of who I am, and yet for these people, negativity do not even exist.

People in this group aren’t necessarily fascinating. Throughout the years I’ve seen all of them being insensitive, tactless, rude, or simply stupid. They’re not the most popular people you’ll see, nor the smartest, nor the most attractive. These people are average, sometimes even below, but this just made me more fascinated – how could I be so deeply enchanted by them, and yet still very much aware of their shortcomings? What is this non-judgmental pure affection bestowed upon them?

That’s when I realized I must have fallen in love with every one of them.

When you spent half your life being so exposed to negativity, and the other half building a wall of defense, you pretty much don’t know what it means to love someone. You can’t even make you like yourself. So when I meet people who magically produce that exhilaration, that pure feeling I never knew I had, the one I had tried to prevent from happening in the first place, it puts me in awe. So much that I don’t want to let go. I want to keep myself exposed to that feeling; I want to keep hanging on to their every move, to watch that magic happen again and again. I want to know if my humble self can rise to their world, I want to be able to show affection so purely too. I want other people to know that I truly love my muses.

And so I’ve come to this blatant, nearly-disturbing point of obsession over them. My face lights up whenever I see them. I made a conscious effort to always be near them. I get jealous over them. Even when they’re not around, I love talking about them. Before this post I wasn’t sure what to call this group of people – then I realized how much they inspire me. Everything I do, write, and say is affected by them. They shape my opinions, contribute to my ideas, defined my spirit, without even realizing it. I had to give them credit. Every time someone gives me a compliment, I can point out a certain person who helped attract that compliment, and 97% of the time these people are those I consider my muses.

But the thing is, I don’t tell them all this. Yeah, I say how much I like them, but I hardly ever explained why. Reason: I don’t want to scare them away. Doesn’t matter how much their personality fascinates me; for them it’s simply the way of living. Living purely is a natural way, and they never intend to affect or fascinate anyone. Having someone looking up at you isn’t necessarily a good thing, because there’s that bond, that expectation to live up to people’s standard. The things with these souls, they’re too free – they disregard expectations (social and personal) because that’s what ties most people down.

So no, I don’t tell them why I like them so much.

I’m forced to interact normally with them, act as if we’re equal human beings, at times even mocking them – because I don’t want them to know how dependent I am on them. Frustrating, and there are times when I can’t help it and blurted something out. It’s all very much pathetic, extreme and incomprehensive.

Now tell me if that’s not love.

A couple of years ago I probably couldn’t even think about love. Now I find myself giving out a disturbingly large amount of love, and being proud of it.

Now tell me if that’s not a blessing.

What to do

2007-01-09T01:25:00.000+07:00

1. Realize that he's not doing any of this intentionally to hurt you. I know you think you know that already, but keep that in mind whenever you felt like getting slapped in the face and you wanted to be mad at him. Realize that it's you slapping yourself, and that's your problem, not his.

2. Realize that he's not good in handling a lot of issues at the same time. So if you really want to be a good friend, lay off the selfish talks when you know he's busy. And you know he's busy. It's just not the right time to make amends. He's making amends with other people now, people more important to him than you. If you want to be selfish, the least you can do is to acknowledge the facts.

3. When sudden pain attacks, get busy. You've done this therapy before and it seemed to work. Keep a book in sight to keep you distracted, or be as engaged in anything else as you can. Bear in mind that during that one painful weekend, you came out feeling gorgeous and a lot smarter. Only next time, don't break down again the minute you saw them.

4. Remember that you always knew this was going to end, and now's the time...you already knew that even though you talked to him, things may not be fixed. And I'm not even saying this can't be fixed forever.

5. Be realistic. And that includes being realistic about the previous 4 things. All of them are logically true, but keep in mind you actually knew some of those truth are made up. You don't know which ones, but you know some of them came from the heart, not the brain. So don't beat yourself up if some of them sounds stupid.

6. Try not to let no.5 stop you from doing the right thing.

Midnight.

2006-12-04T00:55:00.000+07:00

I bet you'd never guess,

But this is the second time I cried over you this time of day.

Isn't that strange? You'd think I have better things to do at 1 AM rather than fussing over some outrageously-blown-out-of-proportion issue. Sleep, for instance. Or smoke my brains out (too bad I don't smoke). Or get hammered (too bad I don't do that either). Or get laid (nope, never done that). Or do weird stuff, get to work, surf the web, anything, ANYTHING that might be contributive to the mind and/or soul! Just never think gloomy thoughts in the middle of the night. That's the loneliest time of day.

The thing is, I don't know if it's the situation, or is it just because of the time, or maybe because I'm always insecure...but this is one of those moments where I just sat down not knowing what to do.

I don't know what to do about you.

I'm tired of bringing myself to face this over and over again. I want it to end.
I want my head to stop telling me to compare and expect. Two of the things I do way too much.

And then I began to think,
maybe this is all just a big mistake. Perhaps I shouldn't have gotten too acquaintanced with you. Maybe I should've just keep a distance, just like I do to most people, right after the fun part ends. Maybe I should have not allowed it to develop, taking it to another level, all that crap. Maybe I should've just forget about the whole thing, instead of trying to improve the relationship.
Most importantly, maybe I shouldn't have told you how I feel. I mean, I don't do that to most people I'm close with anyway. I don't know what I was thinking that time, telling you all that stuff. I mean, yeah, sure you'll be flattered, and I'm sure at the moment you felt pretty good about the whole thing.
But that's just the thing : I don't know exactly what you think about all this. I'm sure it's nice to have someone declaring their affection to you, but what if you don't feel the same way? What if you don't feel anything at all, except that you're supposed to be nice to this person who'd been so open to you?
What if you don't need someone like me to be so open to you?
What if you already have people close to your heart, and I don't fit into their quality?
Can I really be upset over that?

And you know the worst part is, I may be bawling like crazy now, but it'll all just came out here. Tomorrow I'm going to see you with a smile on my face, exchange a few greetings, then pretend to get busy because I don't want to bother you who's actually really busy. Or maybe I'm just scared you're not really busy, but you just lost interest in talking to me.

And you will never guess.

I'm Taking It Back to "Me" Again

2006-11-29T19:45:00.000+07:00

I don't get compassion, at least not the way I see it being expressed. I don't know if what I see everyday is sincerity and kindness, or am I just looking at a reinterpreted version, but if that's the way people do it, then I am neither kind or sincere, let alone compassionate.

Too bad, though. I know I don't pass on as "nice", but I do care about other people. The problem is, my definition of "other people" is pretty much "people I find worth concerning about", like my friends/family/people in need of assistance.
Families and people in need are easy to define, but what's the boundary on friends? I'm not sure, just people I grew close to, really. That's a dynamic boundary, which I'm comfortable in, because the only reason I stay in a relationship is when we both make each other happy. If one of us lose the ability, thus eliminating the chemistry, it's over. Then again, if none of us ever lose it, then I'm either partially or fully enslaved by that person. And this is the kind of relationship I build with my friends, whether they realized it or not.

Well, okay. Enslaved might be too big of a word. We all do favors for our friends anyway. The reason I picked that word is because I've had some unfortunate choices of friends way back when, and these people would take advantage of me like you wouldn't imagine. Then again, now that I am (hopefully) blessed with better friends, I still sometimes feel like my friends take me for granted.

I have two reasons for this, and both eventually blame myself. First is my problem-solving nature. It goes like this: I see a troubled friend, I do what I can to help them. At the least, I give an array of solutions. This is my definition of compassion. It's a terrible thing to adopt, really, but what it does is keeping me in a pragmatic view of my peers. Consolation is an unknown term. If I fail to help solve the problem, I get frustrated myself - partly because the problem isn't solved, partly because my friend remains troubled. On general cases, though, I do a pretty good job in helping out people, and it's fair to assume that people do come to me to ask for favors. Which sometimes makes me wonder "Am I just here to find a solution?"

The second reason is my understanding of the word "favor", or lack thereof. Meaning: I'm not good in weighing appropriate favors to do for / ask from my friends. Sometimes I do too much, sometimes I expect too much. Simply put, sometimes I get upset because I am a slave of people, other times I get upset because people don't reciprocate. I just don't know to what extent can you play this relationship game, and as a result, I often lose.

I'm wondering, as I'm always wondering, whether the people I love really love me back, or am I just an object of manipulation. This leads to that big question "Why do you have to love and expect something back?"

Because being ignored is not better than being hated. Especially when it's someone you love.

On Starting Over

2006-10-23T23:39:00.000+07:00

So I was at a mall the other day (alone of course), and there was this new gorgeous jewelry stall. Looking at the owner, however, I assumed this was an expensive stall.

Now first of all, I hate it when people don’t put price tags on their products. It’s hard to believe that there aren’t more important things a store owner can do rather than calling out prices (redundantly, I might add) every time a customer is nearby. What makes this even more ridiculous is how this usually happens in an expensive place. So when a customer ask for the price of an item, it’s usually some really high price that most customers probably can’t afford anyway, and now the poor soul who asked for the price in the first place had to find a way to back off without seeming like they can’t afford the item. Of course this is especially hard because the store owner would’ve assumed that the customer was already interested in the item, since the customer had the guts to ask for the price, and would start thinking up ways to persuade the customer. So now you have an overly excited seller and a nervous buyer. At this stage, whether the customer buys the product or not, someone’s still going to leave feeling slightly betrayed. So why not avoid all the hurting and let the price tags do their job?

I’m starting to lose focus here. So anyway I was at this stall, and I was looking at this necklace that has no price tag (obviously you would’ve guessed that, why else would I be ranting on about it?). The stall’s owner was busy manhandling a customer, a woman with heavy makeup and excessive use of hairspray. First clue this was an expensive stall. I recognize who the owner is right away because he was talking excitedly about the product (very rare to see a mere store keeper do that), and he was giving away name cards with a website address on it. Second clue this was an expensive stall.

I knew the necklace I had my eye on was going to be outrageously expensive, and if I asked, I was going to have to think of a way to graciously walk away, but I was still curious anyway. Plus the woman with heavy makeup was gone and the owner was approaching me. So I decided to try something.

I asked for the price in English.
And as I don’t live in an English-speaking country, this immediately startled the owner, causing him to stutter a bit before coming up with a coherent, and English, answer. The price was indeed out of my league, so I replied with long complex sentences, which startled the owner even more. At the silence moment of him figuring out what to do next, I escaped.

Bottom line, I love those moments when you pretend to be someone else and people believe it.

Now I’ve actually done this many times before. Sometimes I pretend to be a native English speaker in places where you don’t normally speak English, so I’ll stand out and get special treatment, or I pretend to be a native English speaker in places where everybody else speak English, so I’ll blend in and not get “special” treatment. And it’s not limited in language too. Once I told a guy at this salon that I was married, and the whole time he did my hair we talked about marriage life. My biggest lie was when I told my students that I was 23 years old (when I was really 19), and for the next one year, every time I walked into that class I was a 23-year-old teacher, minutes away from my bachelor degree, with a 2-year teaching experience (when I was really a 19-year-old freshman, and this class was the second class I ever taught).

I love doing this because in a different personality, everything you normally do would seem different. Just like the case of the necklace at the stall.

Before I go any further, I’ve had some complaints saying that I acted too much and people don’t know who the real me is. This is weird because I don’t even think this is something you can complain about. Why can’t it be that the real “me” is someone who likes to play someone else? Yes, I know that this may just be a phase of identity searching and ultimately I may have to settle being just one person for the rest of my life. I know that this may also be a form of denial, where I don’t want to accept who I really am, and I’m showing signs of immaturity, as in “unnecessarily trying out weird stuff”. I understand that all these complaints are logical, and I also understand that until I find someone who can accept my “condition”, it’s going to be very hard for me to be in a relationship. Why am I suddenly talking about relationship, you ask? Because I got some of these complaints from my ex.

Anyway. Change mood back to “excited”.

The biggest fun of pretending to be someone else is watching people then form their opinion about you. I find it really funny that when you go to your class wearing tomboy clothes for one day and ultra-feminine the next, people will get confused and ask me what my style really is. I don’t understand why it confuses people that I try out different things!

All this came to mind when I was going to this conference a week ago. Conferences are particularly fun because that’s the best place to try out being a different person. Nobody knows who you are, but everybody’s eager to get to know you. Perfect.
Strangely, I didn’t have to do much to confuse people at this conference. After 24 hours a guy actually came up to me and said, “You know, at first glance I thought you were a Filipino or Malaysian (which I’m not), but then you started talking about this exotic food (which happened to come from my country), and now you’re sitting at a table that says ‘Poland’(which I did because I was accompanying my Polish friend)! So where are you from, really?”
Now I’ve never met this guy in my life, and this question shocked me for two reasons: a) I didn’t realize I was creating such a varied state of persona, which confused people, and b) I didn’t realize there are people who care so much to be confused in the first place! Apparently, there's such a big expectation of you being one person only, that when you're not, complete strangers will notice.

So you see, all of this equals fun.

Let’s take it to another level. Every time I switched to a new school, I have the chance to be a completely new person, and if I succeed, everybody in the new school will automatically assume that this is the way I’ve always been. This last bit can be quite annoying. I’m a believer that the way you evolve over the years will add depth to your personality, so if I’m assumed to have always stayed the same, it felt like I’m assumed as a shallow person. During elementary years my family’s financial condition was not excellent, and it showed, and even though it’s much better now, people I know from elementary still looked at me with a certain state in mind. I find it equally annoying that in my university, some people assumed I had always been well off since I was little, which is not only totally untrue but also made me look like I can’t live below the standard in which I’m living now.
Annoying as it is, at this point you can still have fun by doing things people wouldn’t expect “you” (the way they know you) would do...like talking knowledgeably about Dominatrix videos if you always dress conservatively. Realize that you’re most likely to have all these contradicting elements inside you. Don’t suppress the minor elements, celebrate each one of them. Show your evil / angel side periodically. When you’re good at it, show it simultaneously. Watch your friends go, “Wow, I didn’t know you’re that kind of person”.

Honey, I’m always the kind of person you didn’t expect me to be.

Here's The Thing, Lady.

2006-08-19T01:46:00.000+07:00

I recognize that reaction. You got that same look in your eyes as I do when I’m looking at you and him.
The truth is, a lot of people can tell you beautiful stories. You get to decide if it’s really that beautiful to hear.
Haven’t you realized this a long time ago? You can’t have it perfectly both ways. If you decided to enjoy what you have just like you’re doing right now, then you’ll never going to be that woman on top of the mountains who intimidates the hell out of everyone! And you don’t need to be that kind of woman anyway, who says life up there is better?

Why must you be jealous of people who strive for more when you’re already satisfied with your life now? They’re different from you. People who strive for more will never be satisfied with their lives now. How do you think they got their name in the first place?

I will always wish I have what you two have. That’s a fact, and that’s always a fact no matter what kind of person I turn into. I look at you and think, My God, why would you wish for anything else? You’ve got everything you’re ever going to need for the rest of your life right next to you.
And I know that sometimes you don’t think that’s enough. Sometimes, when you see people like, well, me, you’re reminded that there’s more to life to strive for than what that person next to you can give. Then you feel a little down for choosing such a....conformist way to live. Finally, after we parted ways, you left with a slight pout.
That was the end. A slight pout. Before you were looking around with a sincere smile that came from that warmth in your heart. Now you look around with a slight pout.

Wake up, honey. There’s always going to be people who do that.

Don’t let them get to you. I know you’re happy, I know you’re making someone else happy every single day. And I know that when you look at him, you’re happy. That’s something I’m still desperately yearning for, fully aware that right now I have an infinitely small probability to reach that. But as much as I want it, I know there are things I have to do in order to make my life (not necessarily yours) happier. And if doing those things means less chance for me to look for what you two have, then I’ll have to accept it and keep going, because that’s the kind of person I was born to be. Always wanting bigger things.

You realize that most people who want to fly do so because they don’t have a strong ground to stand on.
But you’re not one of them.

Allow me to raise my glass.

2006-07-29T01:49:00.000+07:00

For the best week in my life.

Sorry, that's not quite true.

For the first week in my life, as it may had well been the first week of me feeling completely alive.

I don't want to go home!

Three prepared analysis and I posted this.

2006-06-23T20:15:00.000+07:00

I've been imparting wisdom for the last 3 days.

Well, technically I've been doing that since a long time ago, but these 3 days it just had been quite intense.

So what does it feel like having people looking at you attentively, devouring your inputs, nodding and making notes (and even inquire some) as you speak?
It's fun.

I used to think that the bravest 2 words ever said are "Any questions?". It's an invitation for (normally) a bunch of people who've been listening to your words to dig deeper, re-analyze, find out more, and simply asking any inquiries they might have. Whatever it may be, ask away. Really. Really. Anything that comes up from that complex human brain, I should be able to give some insights. You might have read a whole book about it, you might be just testing, you might be really stupid or you might want to see if I'm really stupid, I challenge you. Give me a question.

Everytime I watch other people end a speech by saying "Any questions?" I panicked for them. My God, who knows if a genius had been listening and is prepared to give, simply put, the ultimate question that you don't know the answer to? You've just given a complete speech that supposedly shows how great you are! But you've worked so hard! If you can't answer a question here, your image will be ruined and your speech shall be useless!
How can you just ask them to ask anything they want?

But, I got through it.
I started realizing that I've been exposed to that kind of humiliation during my 3 years of teaching. Apparently, I think, the phrase "Any questions?" is sort of a reflex - you simply say it after you're satisfied with your speech. And yes, there had been times when I can't answer people (and I pray everyday to leave those times behind me), and that look on their face were terrible. But I survived.

The last three days (and the last year) I've been blessed with the absence of those moments and those expressions. I learned to always, always really know what you're talking about (which might explain why I'm generally quiet on small chats but an extrovert otherwise), and I learned to show the confidence of always, always really knowing what you're talking about.

And I learned that the looks of people when they learned something from what you said is rewarding enough to went through all of the above. There's hardly a better satisfaction than receiving gratitudes for helping improve other people.

This was why I wanted to become a teacher.

Sadly (well I had to reach a sad point somewhere, did you not see the aura of this blog?), the satisfaction of imparting knowledge is barely a competition to the sorrow of realizing that all your friends are off busy doing their own things, and now you're left behind. Then you started thinking if the process of building intelligence for other people had ironically made you too stupid for keeping up with your peers.

And now the days of imparting wisdom are interfered with moments of stillness,
and followed with nights of silence.

On Mushy Things

2006-05-30T16:03:00.001+07:00

Falling in love must be the greatest feeling there is. It just has to be. You realize it's the only phrase that describes a feeling as a noun? We have "getting mad", "being sad", "being satisfied"...even the opposite itself, "hate", is still an adjective. You say stuff like "I'm really scared" or "Is she disappointed?", but when it's love, it's "He's really in love with her". In. As if this particular feeling is not something you experience mentally, but literally got inside of.

I may be wrong on the linguistic analysis, but few would deny the first sentence.

I miss being in love. I mean, I know I throw myself to all kinds of feelings to the extreme, drama queen and all, but isn't the purpose of love to eat you alive? It's supposed to disallow your brain to be occupied by anything else in this world, because love is something you should experience a hundred percent, with nothing else coming close. Otherwise how'd you remember it well? Love should be the only feeling you remember when you look back in life.

I've fallen for some great guys before, and there were different reasons for every person. There was one for his smile (I know it doesn't sound like a reason to fall in love, but you should see his smile. I was obsessed for 2,5 years with that smile). One for his unique personality, very conventional but at the same time always on the curious side of things he's not "supposed" to know. One for his hysterical sense of humour. One for simply being one of the best friends I've ever had. And one for his passion. If I had learned anything from all this, it's this : there's no such thing as an "ideal type", personality-wise that is. What we usually hear, "Kind", "understanding", "caring", etc is people's default type. Normally your efforts are focused in trying to find one like that, but don't be surprised when you're eventually drawn to the exact opposite.

My goodness, there's just nothing like it, isn't there? Showing up wherever they show up, eagerly waiting for your dose of pleasure in seeing them again. Even when they don't notice you, knowing that any minute now they can come up to you is enough.
Even when they're not talking to you, watching their expressions is enough.
Even when they're standing next to you, feeling their presence is enough.
And with this, every night you dream of seeing them again the next day.
And of course,
even when they're not mad at you, nor sad because you, doing everything you can to make them happy again is never enough.
even when they didn't smile at you when you passed, weeks of "what did I do?" self-scrutinize is never enough.
even when they're just saying "hi" to someone else, jealousy and venting at the worst level is never enough.

How you feel every day will be fully determined by the behavior of the person you fall in love with that day. And that's a lot of power given out to somebody who may not even think of you as more than an acquaintance.

I wrote this a few years ago. It was in this story which I still think is the only one worth continuing. It wasn't written in English, but a rough translation would be something like this:

"..I decided something genuine (love) would be a great experience for me. So I allowed the feeling to stay. But unfortunately, it didn't just stay, it ran and dragged me up and down in a pace only Olympic athletes can compete. I never thought something so mushy can be so strong!"

I know it's beyond self-centered to quote yourself in your own blog, but I thought that said it pretty well, don't you?

Stay There.

2006-04-11T18:36:00.000+07:00

Don't lose it just yet.
Only a week to go. You can do this.
Everything you've been working on all this time is about to change you. Those 2 months of solitude, arrogance, and self-scrutinize...it's about to end. It's really going to end.
It's not like you've had hell though. It was an amusing 2 months, I dare say, with a lot of luck taking charge and a bit of companionship.
But now, as it's about to end, prepare to get your life back. Your normal, peaceful, geeky life like the one you used to have. Where you only need to worry about how to prepare for exams.
And all will be well. All mistakes you've made, assignments you've left, groups you've abandoned, health treatments you've missed (dentist? What's that?), family ties you've broken, friendships you've ruined (and shred to pieces, hello people-who-no-longer-talk-to-me, yes I missed you), everything will still (hopefully) be waiting to be repaired. You get to fix them all!

In just one week.

And after that, you can have all the things you so dearly missed...and if everything were really as good as you remembered, they'll all still be there for you. And I believe they are, and with a little bit of work, you can make them last for a long time.

Of course if you can't, try to make them last at least until May 6th, where you'll be leaving them again...

Ah my dear friends. You've no idea how I miss having a full interaction with you.

Never Thought About This Before.

2006-04-04T23:04:00.000+07:00

There are two things about negativity that I hadn't known until about 6 months ago:

(1) In every situation, no matter how perfect it may seem, there's bound to be at least one negative way to look at it. Two if you look hard enough.

(2) Contrary to popular belief, pointing out the aforementioned negative perspective doesn't necessarily always lead to depression. When done very, very delicately and at the perfect time, it can even be something to laugh about.

Which is why, for a reason that remains to be a mystery, a person can actually be both pessimistic and hilarious at the same time.

What Is All This?

2006-04-01T20:45:00.001+07:00

Why am I even doing this?
Why do I bother working for something I don't really see the feasibility of succeeding in?
Why can't I just settle in and start thinking of things that matters the most? Because I know, this isn't the ultimate thing that matters for me.

Am I really going to be satisfied, looking back?
Will I ever going to be satisfied, at all?

Why can't I just be content with I have?

Why must I push myself for more and more (and more)?

Because being ordinary is unacceptable.

The sweetest thing.

2006-03-13T12:26:00.000+07:00

I have a problem with chocolate.

If I ate it, occassionally (more often than not) I get these annoying headaches. But not just any headache like the one you suffer when you have a cold, these feels like all the blood in your head rise up to your brain, then you feel increasingly dizzy and you picture the veins on the side of your head (I think it's called posterior facial veins, but I'm not sure) are blocked with chocolate, and the blood flow is pushing as hard as it can to keep flowing. Then you started questioning your intelligence for consuming this substance in the first place.
So far I haven't been bothered to find out a medical explanation for this. I predicted it has something to do with cocoa, but there are some brands of chocolate I can eat with no side effects. Then I wondered if I have a problem with cheap chocolate bars, since I thoroughly enjoy Ferrero Rocher and Godiva truffles. I find this assumption highly flattering and was content with it for a while, thinking of myself as a real-life-quality-checker for chocolate. But then I found some really cheap chocolate bars I like. Then there are some that gives different effects everytime I eat them. So in the end I just gave up trying to analyse this and simply rely on my luck for the random headaches.

I'm still a big fan of chocolate, though. I find it amazing how chocolate is integrated within humanity.
Okay, I know the automatic response to this is Oh please, don't be so dramatic. But think about it. I don't think that, apart from water, there is a single substance that has the power to affect our lives in an absolute way chocolate does. In a desperate attempt to prove it, I've conjured up my own crazy assumptions on how this happens.

See, when you were a child, you love sweet things. So that's all sweet stuff : candy, lollipops, ice cream, chocolate. Then the premice goes: Children like stuff that has a bit of a gooey texture to it. That leaves ice cream and chocolate (when slightly melted). Then I assumed children would prefer things they can hold in their hand without a risk of dropping it accidentally (like when the ice cream falls out of the cone). Not to mention the satisfaction of licking the wrapper that just doesn't happen on any other sweets. Thus, children loves chocolate.

And then, you grow up. This next assumption goes mostly for women: things go so much more complicated. Suddenly your body changes (but not the way you want it), you can't talk to your parents, everything is such an upsetting drama. You wish everything would just run along smoothly, just like when you were little. Suddenly you have that urge to feel like you're a child again. As it is now impossible to whine about your problems or spend time on the playground or dance naked in the rain, how do you propose to relive those happy times? Eat chocolate. Easy.
So how would this assumption affect men? When you're in a relationship, it goes a long way when you try to understand your partner. So, aside from putting up with mood strikes, relationship talks and guessing what they really want, men also must understand that women turn to chocolate as an ultimate fix-it. Giving your woman chocolate says:
(a) You love her
(b) You're aware that she loves chocolate
(c) You understand and accepts the fact that she loves chocolate
(d) You understand that chocolate is fattening, but you're OK with that because you know how much your woman loves chocolate (additional points for showing that you don't have a problem with fat women)
(e) You accept the inner child in her that caused her to love chocolate
(f) You respect her ability to overcame all of her problems with chocolate
(g) You show your support in helping her solve her problems
so, eventually:
(h) You love her.

With that many message in one gift, and the fact that men also like chocolate when they were young, the consumption of chocolate never stops.

I also understand that chocolate does a lot of things for your health. It releases serotonin that creates a relaxing pleasure, it's aphrodisiac, it has antioxidants that help protect blood vessels, promote cardiac health, and prevent cancer. It also has been effectively demonstrated to counteract mild hypertension, and no matter what your mother tell you, it does NOT cause acne. I'd expect the announcement that chocolate cures HIV any day now.

All in all, was there ever any doubt that our seemingly-independent lives are being controlled by this substance?
As minorities always suffer, people with chocolate-related diseases like me are left to smile uncomfortably when somebody gave them a box of pralines. Who are we to challenge the power of chocolate?

This has been a very late "Happy Valentine's Day for those who's celebrating" post.

P.S : This also has been perhaps the most enjoyable post-writing process I've ever had.

On what's happening on The World

2006-02-08T11:03:00.000+07:00

I worry about the Afghanistan demonstration that's going on.
I especially worry because I'm not sure which stance to take, although I know I should have taken the obvious one.

We all heard about this...freedom of expression is limited only by other people's freedom (well, it's actually "rights" rather than "freedom", but anyway). Moslems strictly prohibit the drawing of Prophet Mohammad (PBUH), then sudddenly Denmark comes out with these caricatures of him and published them on European newspapers.

Here's what I worry about: the outrage caused by this is deadly insane.

All of a sudden, thousands of people are protesting and burning Danish Flags and demanding to kill ("hang", in their exact words) the guy who drew the thing. Danish government has called this a global crisis. Even President Bush has already acknowledged it, even though the demonstration in the US is not exactly significant, and is thinking of ways to support Denmark without seeming like he just wants to kill everyone who dare caused a riot. Or maybe without the last part.

But anyway. A contradiction is maybe a little inappropriate to point out here, but this was the first thoughtful question I came up with.
Islam, as we know it, is a highly preventive religion. The regulations are done to avoid things, to try and stop it before anything happened. It's not a religion to be easily understood, having that kind of views, because what everybody else seem to think is that it's illogically, insanely preventive.
I remember this Oprah show when a Christian was set to live with a Moslem family for a month. The first thing the Moslem husband did was prohibit the Christian to stay in the house alone with the Moslem wife. It is, as some of you might know, not allowed in Islam to have a man and a woman (each is not the other's muhrim - look it up if you need to) together in one room, because when two people do so, it's believed that Satan will be the third person. I remember what the Christian guy said, "I thought it was insane...then I thought of the condition in our society now, with young teenagers having sexual relationships, and then I understood (the Moslem's) point."

The case with the cartoon is similar. Moslems don't allow any drawing of Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) because "they fear that it could lead to idolatry" (as you will see repeatedly in any Yahoo! News). But now the drawing is here, and the incredible riots and the violence is here, but what I keep thinking is nobody is idolizing the caricatures.

So what does that mean?
The outcome that the Moslems were trying to prevent hasn't happened yet.
But it's a really, really, ridiculously stupid thing to do to try and fiddle with sensitive religious rules in such a public way, especially if you believe that the religion is the producer of many terrorists (I bolded the "if" to show that this isn't my opinion, but might be yours). It's stupid enough to try and fiddle with religious rules in the first place.
And now Denmark faces the consequences, with Moslems throughout the world protesting against them. They look and think, "Why are they that mad?". Honestly I agree with that question. Not because I don't understand how sensitive the issue is, but because I fear that this will bring more bad reputations to Moslems, especially since people are so perplexed by the anger that they're assuming there must be something else Moslems are angry about.

So what does this all mean?

P.S: I love the part where Iran is using the "freedom of expression" argument to make a drawing competition of the Holocaust images. Man, those people are good.

I'm back.

2006-01-26T16:16:00.000+07:00

Back from a one-month trip that supposedly changed my life (it kind of did, actually) and definitely gave me time to think things over.

The day I went home, I chatted with my friend who told me all the cool things my other friends are doing, and as usual, this set my blood to boil.
So I think it's time to address some of my personal problems (the "death penalty" post will have to wait), those dangerous characteristics I can't get rid of:

(1) Excessive competitiveness.
The things I do unconsciously: I scrutinize other people's life, compare them with my own, and get frustrated when I'm not doing as good. And yes, there are times when I do expect other people to fail.
The weird thing is, people who are obsessed with competition are usually successful people, since they hate losing. Strangely, I'm not successful. Which leads me to my next point:

(2) Low self-respect
That's right. It's obvious from this blog that I suffer random moments of self-hatred. I don't know how this is going to go away completely (especially since I keep losing to other people), but since I don't feel this way all the time (in fact most of my friends who knew me for the recent year would tell you I love myself a tad too much), maybe it's not so crucial. I have this blog to throw all that in anyway.

(3) Carelessness
This is the one ugly thing I have and seem to enjoy. Let me explain.
You know those things girls do to their friends? Like asking if you've had lunch yet at 3 PM, and if you said no they get worried and insist you to eat. I really can't be bothered to do those things. I understand that people do it because they care about each other, but good God, there's a fine line between "caring" and "doting". If you left a happy, healthy 20-year-old woman in a mall to wander alone for an hour, she will live properly. You don't have to spend your time worrying or telling her to call you once she got home. It's not necessary. No. No. Open that "you're so mean" curtain on your head and let your brain do the logic: It's not necessary. I'm not being mean, I'm careful in not giving too much compassion. I only pick real reasons to pay extra attention to:
a. Things that involve real danger (like walking on the street or driving at night alone, taking TB medicines on time)
b. Things that upset people (heartbreaks, death of someone, etc.)
c. Things that men do because of their values..and society expectation (giving your seat to old people or your girlfriends, escort less-physically-competent people to cross the street)

(4) The whole "drama queen" vs "I am not amused" thing.
I seem to get excited only for things I chose to be exciting. Mostly I get excited for small things : a bubble, which will always remain my number one excite factor, food that hit the spot, anything I bought (I've the habit of sleeping with my new belongings on the night of purchase - sort of like a christening). But when I see things that are not amazing (to my senses), I can't pretend to be excited. It's an "all-or-nothing" attitude which, unfortunately, made me look like a snob at most times.
I'll make an example. I like funny people. I mean I really love them in all way possible. Tell me something funny and you will not be disappointed by my response. Sadly, only a handful of people have that talent to be funny. And whenever I see someone trying to be funny, but failed, I really can't give so much as a polite laugh. To me, zero response is better than fake ones.

So. Like I said, a month away really gave me a lot of time to think things over(sighs dramatically)...aaand I admit that I still celebrates things that are not worth celebrating (confession tone). But hey. How many of us can elaborate our own flaws this thorough?

On remorse and regrets

2005-12-18T20:47:00.000+07:00

I was cleaning up my inbox just now (an equivalent to tidying your attic - I proudly say that representing not just geeks, but the whole modern world. Admit.), and around the third page I found the email announcing I've been accepted to take part in ESWiL, which is a youth conference held in Poland.

I hesitated. That seems like so long ago.

I should've known it was coming, since I've erased the emails following that one, about the visa, the travel grant, the unbelievable venting in lack of professionalism...all the headache I had to put up with for something I didn't even go to.
I remembered when I got that email. I've been waiting for it for what seems like forever, performing my tough-senior-on-newbies-orientation duty in agony. I almost gave hope, since I haven't heard from them for so long. Then that day, I just finished a meeting, I decided to stick around in campus and check my mail.
The subject "ESWiL-You have been accepted" was pretty self-explanatory - I managed not to scream as the lab was very, very quiet, but several seconds passed in cloud nine. It was unreal.

Once I got to the ground again, I looked for the nearest person I know and eagerly told him. The second thing I did was post an ecstatic message in my local online forum. (Yes, I'm THAT geeky)

I didn't regret not going to Poland. It was my decision, which is different from the one-year-program case back in high school (which I still suffer random remorse attacks about). But the similarities made it kind of difficult to accept. I had two chances of going out there and see what the world offers, and I turned both down. Is that being considerate or stupid? Was it really about being realistic (the organizers are impossible) or was it about taking chances?
Some says I'll get another chance. Will I really, and if I do, how will I know I won't turn it down again?

A good thing came up, though: I realized the chances I get are getting better. First it was an AFS-like program where I have to pay pretty much everything. Then it was the Poland conference that will feed and facilitated me FULLY for TWO WEEKS with 25 Euro. That's astonishingly cheap, even my dad had doubts in my rejection since it was so cheap.
I'm trying to find a scholarship in Australia now. I treated it the way I treated my wishes that have come true before, and I expect success out of it. But I don't know what will happen.

Who knows, maybe in the third, fourth, maybe fifth chance, I'll get one where it fits me perfectly, and I'll finally be able to make my lifelong dream come true?
Who knows?

Refresh.

2005-10-24T11:31:00.000+07:00

Aahhh.
Most people I know would think that the title refers to what you do when you press Alt + F5.
But what I actually meant was what happened to me that weekend.
I felt refreshed.
I didn't expect to feel that way while watching Susan Sarandon in her lingerie kissing a woman, but that was what happened. Let me start over.
A few weeks ago there was this film festival in my town, one that shows gay movies. Not surprisingly, I went with the two most appropriate men to go with: a gay guy and the sexual object of my affection.
The moment I walked in that place, I knew I was in for something I've never encountered before. And by that time, it was EXACTLY what I needed. Something new and fresh.
There were only two women in that room including myself, and I looked around enjoying the rare feast for my eyes. Men exchanging moist little smacks. Men in pairs. Foreign men. The ambience was set for a clubbing night, with beers and lights everywhere, and yet there was this silence and darkness like you would expect in a cinema. The place had this whole mysterious impression, like you're going to get sucked inside and never get out. Even the bathroom, the darkest most exotic bathroom I've ever been in, makes you feel like you're in a whole other world.

Then the movie starts.

That, my friends, slapped me with the fact that some people would just make pointless movies and any eager upcoming Hollywood actress would gladly take part.
I would've said this was the most pointless movie I've ever seen, except that I've seen worse ones (I really should stop watching independent French movies).

Nevertheless, I was witnessing something I never thought existed. Not just the movie, but the whole ambience, like I said before, was something very new to me. I felt like I was washed out and turned into a whole different person.

So then this whole different person and her friends went out to eat. We were talking, particularly about the subject relevant to the movie we just saw. Then another shock came.
The sexual object of my affection (I really enjoyed calling him that), the guy who can turn me on just by showing up, told me that he had had experience dating guys before.
I was beyond shocked. I was so used to my other favorite sexual object being such a homophob, I automatically thought all unbelievably hot guys are like that. But here was the ultimate alpha male, happily blurting out the opposite.

"Why?" I asked.
"Because", he said, "you wouldn't know which fits the best if you haven't tried both, now would you?"

And I couldn't help thinking, hmmm. He had a point.
Now while I was busy thinking about that point, out came the question:

"So why aren't you a lesbian?"

It took me some time to think before I answered it, and thankfully he was satisfied with the answer. But the answer would generate a whole other post, because this one's already long enough. I'll write that down later.
Anyway, giving him a satisfactory answer was something I rarely accomplish, and for that I felt even more refreshed.

Damn it and the whole damn wide universe

2005-09-03T18:01:00.000+07:00

Not exactly a good day. Not.
Don't get me wrong, I did some things I was proud of, I had fun with my friends, I have the house all by myself now...

But none of this matters to me, once I realize what a pointless life I've been having for some time. Pointless!!
My goal in life is to be happy. And you know what? I'm not. Thus concluding, my life has failed to reach its goal.

Allow me to wail and see if anyone can make a coherent sentence to explain this.
I spent my Friday doing meetings, which I'm getting sick of now. I don't understand why things can't just take care of their own.
Then, I went through my Friday night not being able to sleep, because I was coughing like crazy all night long. I literally kicked myself for not being able to sleep.
On Saturday I spent the whole day with my friends, laughing, working, eating together, having some talks...and at no point have I ever felt content.

How do I know about this, you say?

I ran into the sexual object of my affection today, and when we were talking I got to realise...how GOOD it felt when I first knew him. It brought back all the memories of him telling me to get over my ex and start offering free rides to other guys. I used to feel so alive that moment. I was free, I was happy, and most importantly, I was content to have someone at heart.
I had that someone whom I can be really honest with, who knows how to make me feel comfortable, who cares about me. We were never a couple, nor we ever will be, but I love him to death.

The only guy whom I can exchange "I love you"s with (to this day) and still maintain a platonic relationship.

After that one talk, I looked back at my life, and I see no one that can do this to me anymore.
I was just sitting there, making notes in that meeting, looking at all these people surrounding me,
and still I felt lonely.
(Especially when I looked around, and saw people with comfort glowing from them and people near them, and I just can't understand what kind of sin I have done not to be able to feel that way)

When I talk my opinions are heard and respected, but as I say them I looked at my friend's faces...and there was something I was looking for but could not find.
Not necessarily a guy's affection, nor a girl's tender attention, nor even some heartening appraisal. I am thankful to have all that, but I need that something...that can make me say to myself, "You know what, I have this thing with someone and it's special. So you do what you gotta do, screw the world. You'll always have this person anyways."
Content. Where did that feeling go?

Damn it, WHAT ON EARTH DID I DO THAT MADE EVERYBODY LEAVE ME ALONE?
WHY DOES EVERYBODY KEEP TURNING TO OTHER PEOPLE AND PUTTING ME ASIDE?
I'm freakin' upset for 7 hours everyday about this, and to this day, 20 years and 27 days after my birth, NO ONE HAS EVER NOTICED THIS!!! WHY CAN'T (or won't) ANYBODY SEE THAT I'M LONELY? And don't give me that "You have to open up to people" crap. If I have ever found someone whom I can talk to about this and not run away in a year or so, then I wouldn't have had this problem in the first place.

I'm not happy.
I hate my life right now.
I hate my life right now.
I hate my life right now.

What, you think I'm self-centered? Can you help it if you're the only person who worries about yourself?

Illness and loneliness are not a good combination.

It Was You.

2005-08-13T21:37:00.000+07:00

You were the reason I made this blog. And the other one. And post on the one on campus. Guess what? People like it. I have a lot of people saying they like my thoughts, that they find them amusing and enlighting.

You were behind me ever since the start of my job. You're the one who always said, "You're not a kid anymore, you're an adult! You have a carreer!" That got me through. Two years, a raise, and a promotion.

You got me thinking about things I never thought I could think about. You triggered my brain to work, you introduced me to a thing called "serious discussion". I turned to debating because of you. I won two championships, sweetheart. You made me this way.

The thing is, I never can understand why you do these things in such cold approaches.
That was it, wasn't it? That was the basic difference that sets us apart. I can't bring myself to believe that you actually wanted to help me. You can't bring yourself to understand why I could prioritize things so unproportionally.

I read something you wrote, something that was once very personal to you. I don't know why you'd put it up for everyone to read, but I was very, very surprised to see you opening up. And you know what? I felt a little pride in here. Look at you, allowing people to see what's on your mind and all. You stepped out of that "loner" image!
We both have very different paths of life. It was something I learned on my own, you're a brilliant man, but you have your own way, enlightening others who pass ways with you. You will not be thoroughly understood by many, including myself, but your amazing perception will always make people look up to you.

You made people learn so much. No doubt you are one of the greatest people I've met during my short life...and I thought, I really thought, I could be a part of this. I thought I could step into your views and introduced you to my own. I thought I have the capability to create an impact on you.

But I was wrong. Instead, I hurt you like no woman has ever done before.

And now, when it's all over, I looked behind my shoulder and saw you happy....and I was happy.
I wished, like I've never wished before, that you would remember me even a fraction of how I remember you.
I wished, and I knelt praying, that I could meant something to you.
I may never know this, I may never know what you think of me, but my worst fear of all.....
my deepest fear is to know that you regret having known me at all.
That you thought I was the biggest mistake in your life.

Just the thought of this stabbed myself so hard, I can't think of senseful sentences to continue this with.
Why. Did I have to lose you. That way.

God, are you listening to me? Please, I beg You, make our time together worthwhile for him. Even just for the smallest bit You can manage.

Tonight, for the first time in months, I cried for you. For losing you.

It was you. You helped me to all this...and this is all for you.

Why English?

2005-08-01T17:00:00.000+07:00

This place was not meant to be seen. I wrote a lot of really personal posts here, things that might shock my peers & acquaintances. That's why I don't put my real name / age / gender (though you might've assumed, dear readers, that I am a female). That's also why I never put any links here. I don't want people to know who I know, or sites I'm most likely to be at. I wanted it to be completely anonymous and impersonal, to make up for the personal things I write. You won't even know what country I'm in.

Now, I realize that this is quite self-centered of me, being all isolated as if someone actually cares to find out who I really am, but hey. We all want to feel important.

So anyway. After a few while, the site leaked to some of my friends, and I thought, "Oh well, it's on the internet, people should see it", so I let them see it. But then I began to receive some complaints, "Why do you have to write it in English? It's harder to understand that way! I don't know what you're saying!" (there you go, another hint. I don't live in an English-speaking country). Most of the times I just replied with a smile.
It's actually because I felt more comfortable expressing myself in this language.
Go ahead, judge me as a Westernist. I don't care. I do feel a lot more comfortable writing English. I was taught for five years to get accustomed to it, and I'm not going to throw it all away. I don't care how people say I'm just trying to show off, people who say that obviously overestimated my skills, not knowing the occassional horror I suffer from the typos and grammatical errors in this blog. The fact is, my brain mostly works in English (obnoxious as it may sound). It's not something I do intentionally, just so happens that I'm more cut out for this language than my own mother's.
So there.

The language (or the ludicrous behaviour) throws you off? Don't read this blog. Like I said, this place was not made to be seen publically.

Speaking of writing, I haven't posted anything about stuff other than Yours Truly these days. My brain's starting to get numb. Have to work, quick.

I see the signs.

2005-07-27T18:12:00.000+07:00

Having experienced it many times before, I know when someone could use a break from interacting with, well, me. I'm quite a handful to deal with anyway.

Today, I see the signs again. And I got it.
So I'll try, as much as I could allow myself, to pull away. Keep a distance. Cold shoulder and everything.
If there's anything I could do, I'd do it for my friends. So if they see something in me that they're uncomfortable with, and they decide maybe I'm not so worthy of hanging out with anymore, so be it.
I just keep regretting all the things I do that makes them uncomfortable with me in the first place.

I am a pleaser. That's just what I do. It crushed me to see someone unhappy and I'd try to do anything to cheer them up...unfortunately, I'm not very good at it.

From the jabbering above you might be able to make out that I'm in quite a fragile mood right now.
The fact is, I am and will continue to be for the rest of the week...or even until Tuesday.
Let's see how well I could cover this whole thing up.

A light at the end of the tunnel.

2005-07-20T20:35:00.000+07:00

Alright.
My dear man (you know, the man I referred to in the last post. I'm just gonna call him "my mentor" from now on, since that's what the job's actually called) had me coming to work today, and we had a little talk about the benefits & duties of being a mentor.

You know what? It's pretty cool.

Because I get paid even better than I already had, and the duties are stuff that I've always wondered how to do, like listening to other teacher's session on tape, reading reports instead of making them, stuff like that. And he told me to come on Friday, when he'll be coming to a company class and conduct an oral survey. Basically he gets to ask the students what they really thought about their teacher and distribute chocolate and name cards while the teacher waits outside, nervous and increasingly panicked. For half hours' talk (not work), he gets paid as much as a teacher's 2-hour work.

He (and I would) also gets to do other cool stuff like giving workshops or random quizzes to other teachers, and go to a management meeting to "discuss" other teachers...and get paid for a holiday every year.
And the coolest of all, I get to pick the classes I want! Now I can teach these exotic classes like the Shangri-La or Regent ones that I've always wanted to teach.

But, of course, there are some tough things I'm still really nervous about, like helping other teachers solve their problems (WHOA there),
being responsible over teachers' quality,
getting involved in company decision-making,
and, most of all, showing to everyone (mostly myself) that I deserved this job.

I'm starting to calm down about this. Gradually.

P.S: My mentor told me he was freaked out too when he was first appointed. Which reminds me, I'm still quite upset about him leaving (because his new job's in travelling, so I won't be seeing as much of him). Seriously, I'm gonna miss him. He's a really good friend, a hell of a fun to be with, a little bit more special than any other guy friends I have. He has this really cool individual clothing style, too. When we finished today's talk about this mentor thing, I showed him these earrings I just bought, and he was not only interested, but also provide some fashion tips.
Where the hell am I going to find a guy like that?
Argh, this is too much of a change..

I don't believe this.

2005-07-19T13:58:00.000+07:00

So. I've always enjoyed being self-centered and boastful in this blog, but this particular post is one where I really actually am freaked out over these days' past blessings.

The place where I teach provides me with a guardian angel (in a form of a fairly attractive man). I've been with him ever since I first entered the place, he trained me to be a teacher and made sure I don't screw up in class. It's rather comforting to know you have somebody you can turn/ask/wail/look for solution to whenever there's a problem, class-wise.

And then, suddenly it happened.
Yesterday I was happily driving along the road when my manager called.
Turns out my dear guidance is quitting, and she wanted me to replace him.
This means I have to be responsible to made sure other teachers don't screw up in class, and I have to train newbies. Modify them into qualified teachers that my company can proudly sent out.
This is a great honor and I should be really, really flattered and thankful.

But here's the thing.
I'm not ready for this yet!!

I'm too young for this. I'm not that good yet. Really. I mean, I still hand in my reports late. I still come to class without preparation. I still get static uncomfortable moments in my classes.
This new task, though exciting and very, very cool, is really intimidating and I'm not handling the challenge very well.
I really don't think I'm the best person for this job. Don't get me wrong, this is something I've always wanted, ever since I started working there. But I do know that I have to reach a certain level first and I'm just not there yet.
This is crazy.

I remember writing this post when I said I've reached one of my dreams (being a teacher) before I'm 20. At that time being offered to guide other teachers was merely a glimpse of a dream. Now I find myself reaching that dream, and guess what?
I'm still not 20 yet! (Had this offer been given three weeks later, this post would not have existed).
I'm nineteen years old. The label "teenager" can still be put upon me. I'm just a kid. I watched Nickelodeon and Disney Channel whenever I have free time. I fascinate over floating soap bubbles. I relate myself to Chandler Bing.
I'm too young to be imparting wisdom to other people!

I know I'm supposed to be grown up and accept this change as an enlighting experience. I know I'm supposed to gloat and tell all my friends about it and start counting the extra money I'll get.
But, quoting a Cathy comic, are any of us ever prepared to watch our dreams came true?

A little something I'd like to pass on.

2005-07-13T18:02:00.000+07:00

I had two reasons to write this post: to work up what had been given to me by a devil and as a clarification to a friend in case I explained it in a rather biased way the other day. Smart people should not be misinformed.

What I'm actually making all this shanannigan (oops, there I go again) for is to talk about prejudice.

I'll tell you what I think it is. It's something you do to people whom you're not comfortable with. You pre-judge them. And since you're not comfortable with them, the verdict is not beautiful.
What prejudice does is bringing you to a state of nowhere, where you just cringe at and bitch about someone's behavior. It keeps you from actually understanding why this particular someone might have this kind of behavior in the first place, and you end up making further accusations on how horrible the person is.
In short, think of prejudice as a really, really, bad first impression.

I absolutely loathe prejudice.
I had to live all my child years in it. It was the thing that crumbled me.

There is no logical reason to have prejudice on someone or something. People with painfully narrow minds just do that. It's what they do to things that are outside their safe circle of knowledge.
Some people, as hard as it is to believe, gets confused when they see something new and unusual. Some people don't handle unique things very well, and the easiest way to stop this uncomfortable sense of unknownness is to give a "bad" label. Then you can simply shove it out of the way, because if something's "bad" then there's really no sense in having to understand it, right?

How the hell are we supposed to learn new things then?

Look around you. People are saying, "Things are not what they seem" or "Don't judge a book by its cover" or "I believe people are generally nice" (one of the sickest sentence I heard that actually came out from someone I know) and yet these are the same people who scoffs at other people who smoke pot. Or is not afraid to kiss in public. Or loves Marilyn Manson style.
I mean, jeez! How fake (and stupid) can you be?
How can people do something like that to somebody they don't even know??
I'm disgusted just by thinking of it.

And you know, the weirdest thing is that prejudice benefits absolutely no one and people still do it. For God's sake, even beating people up creates at least pleasure for the jerk who did it. That's why they keep doing it, because it makes them feel better. Try judging someone a jackass and see how much better you'll feel.
Nada.
And you get stupider because you'll never experience that thrills of learning new things about people.

Now please, hear me out. Don't let prejudice stop you from being educated. It is by any extent the worst thing you can do to a stranger. No. Sorry. The worst thing you can do to ANYONE. When you see something you 're not accustomed to, look again. Try looking it in some other way. Look as hard as you can until you can get an informed conclusion on the occurrence. Discuss with the (gasp) "perpetrators". They'll be happy to explain what you might fail to understand. Then see how this piece of story would affect you. In even the most monotonic story of life, there has to be at least 10% that you never heard of. Make a good use of it. Tell it to other people, if necessary. See how much wiser you've gotten?

Everyone has their own story. Aren't you just fascinated to learn all of them while telling your own?
Stop being uncomfortable and start embracing.

Those words.

2005-07-01T21:40:00.000+07:00

Probably the most thrilling four sentences I've read ever since I met the man that stole my heart.

When I read them, inside I absolutely shivered.
The chills.
That tingling feeling on my spine, rising up to my head and taking me away from reality for a moment.
The way those words made me kneel and pray that I had something to do with them.
How I wish...that those words were meant for me.
It was beautiful.

As the words flow, I stopped breathing. And start trembling, in and out. I let my emotion take me over....my immense yearning for affection screamed.

For a moment, nothing else matters in this world except to be loved.

I didn't know I could ever felt like that ever again. I really didn't.

Tonight,
All my memories arise.
The feelings I've had.
People I've fancied and loved.
People I've loved.
Everything's just...surreal!
The fresh smile of an old crush,
the agony as my ex come and go,
the chills of a brilliant sensation.

The chills.
This is exactly how powerful words are.

If I wasn't falling for him before, I definitely am now.

Dear diary,

2005-06-30T22:33:00.000+07:00

The silence of that memorable night was perfectly amplified by the empty, spacious parking lot where my car was resting.

Gradually I moved in, closing the door beside me,
effortlessly turning the keys in its rightful slot.

Together with the hum of the machine, my mind wanders in a slow tune. Thinking.
About life.
About future.
About my preparation for it.

The exact second when all of it was rumbling through my brain, straining it to its fullest capacity,
Just before I allowed myself to be seduced in doing things I would never have done in my regular sanity,

A face hit my window.
Shocked, my reflex was yelling to me to start yelling...so I did.

But as all things go, the brain overcomes the heart, and I began to realize the familiarity of that face.
Doubtfully, still taken aback, I opened the window.

The face smiled.
So I invited him in.
He said, “I can’t do that.
But here’s something that might help ease your mind.”

Five minutes later, he left. Disappearing suddenly, like most miracles do, after allowing me to overcome my problem.
After he left,
I drove away. With a smile and a floating heart, light as a feather.

Shoot.

2005-06-29T22:32:00.000+07:00

I'm losing someone.

I am losing someone.

Just when I was reaching out. JUST when I started to let loose.
Just when I was opening up.
The person is pulling away from me.

I no longer have something to look out to. The one I had (barely anyways, but still a hint of it) just isn't working.
I don't know what I did wrong.
I'm scared.

Am I going to be alone for the rest of my life?

Normal..

2005-05-20T16:26:00.000+07:00

..was the title of this movie by HBO I saw the other day.
It was really, really out-of-the-top shocking.

In case you haven't seen it, allow me to fill you in on the story:
A happily married couple (25 years, two children) was put on a real shaker when the husband (delicately played by Tom Wilkinson) confessed that he wants to switch gender. He wants to be a female. Really. And I don't mean just look like one, he wants a full transformation, with hormone injection and surgery and everything.
Needless to say (but I'm still gonna say it anyway), it blew everybody away. The church can't have it. The parents hated it. The children thought it was insane (actually, the teenage daughter kind of liked it, and at one scene even compared breast sizes with his dad. Oh my Lord). And the wife was just NOT accepting it well. To top all of this, he had to face this while still being trapped in a man's body. Why can't everyone see that he just wants to be happy? He's not harming anyone. He still loves his family, he still love his wife, he still love God. Is the price of finding yourself at the fullest worth losing everybody else?

Let's switch p.o.v to the wife here. Personally, anything she did to keep his husband from doing it can pass on as understandable. I mean,
The person she married and had sex with for the last 25 years wants a female genitalia. It was just plain WEIRD. It's like she can no longer respect him as a life partner (because that would make her a lesbian), and for the love of God, she can't even think of him as a person anymore. He's not...normal. Why can't he act like the man she fell in love with?

But, eventually, the wife gives in. They're both still madly in love with and can't live without each other, blah blah blah, and so it ends with a happy life of two women.
Alright, I heard stories like this all the time. Woman trapped in a man's body. I've actually grown to accept it, provided it's a really personal thing and is paid at its own expense.
But I always imagined all this to happen to a person. When it's put in such a condition, a married couple, a family, it's a whole other concept. I imagined what it'll be like if that was my dad. A transexual friend is cool. A female father is too much to think about.
And never have it occured in my little mind that a person can change sexuality but not sexual attraction!! The fact that Ruth (Tom's character) insists that he still loves his wife and would never love a man is another mind boggles for me.
I'm not going to start talking about sexuality here (I already did on Friendster), but it's amazing HOW MUCH IT AFFECTS LIFE and the normality of it. In one night, I was forced to think out of what I thought was my broad, flexible box.

It was all just a little too much. I actually ended up staring bug-eyed to the ceiling that night, which wasn't very good since I had an early busy day the next.

Maybe I'm not as affirmed to this whole controversial-but-true-to-yourself things as I thought.

I miss you.

2005-02-20T10:38:00.000+07:00

(Not in a romantic way, though, but I do).

What happened? I still don't understand.
Well, I think I do understand what happened, but I don't understand why we can't start over.
I don't understand why you won't talk to me.
It's been over six months. We grew. So many things have happened since then.

For starters, you found someone.

I found someone too, though in a different way. But if it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have found him.
I owe you one, man.
There are many things in the past that I've done and regretted (to this day), but being your friend isn't one of them.
Yes, I have thought about it, and it's true that you and I are not made of the same stuff.
No, I'm not sure that we can be as good friends as we were before.
But you know me. I want what I don't have.

Perhaps you'd like to know why?
One reason.
You introduced me to myself.
You forced me to reflect and say, "Hello, me. Nice to meet you."
And when somebody does that much to my life, I'm not keen on letting that someone be just a "someone I know". No sir.
That's why.

Argh, now I'm being mushy..Look, I don't mean to be all sensitive here, okay? Those days are gone. My intentions are pure. No sneaky stuff.

I miss being your friend.

Huh.

2005-02-10T21:03:00.000+07:00

Let me tell you what happened the other day.
The week when it happened, I was very. VERY. Upset.
After six months of hard work, I found out that what I thought to be my hardest effort (so far) only resulted to the worst outcome I’ve had.
I also received some very entertaining remarks and accusations from someone whom I’ve put respect for since the day we met. Wait, did I say entertaining? I meant rude, offensive and appalling. Not to mention that this put me into a very sensitive and risky position for the next two and a half years.
I can’t talk to anybody because it’s really a silly thing to discuss about, and someone would just tell me that I’m a big drama queen (which I am).

It wasn’t a very happy week.
And then I had to go to work.

So, after deciding that I'm officially a loser, the next day I went to the office.

It was a class I’ve only had for two sessions. They’re OK, but dealing with seven sixth-grade girls whom I’ve only known for four hours wasn’t really my idea of fun.
Anyway, the project that day was to make Valentine cards. So of course I had to fetch all kinds of odds and ends the kids needed, guarding them to talk English at all times, see that all of them are making cards instead of talking about boys, and making sure that no small beads/food/drink are spilled to the newly tiled floor.
After an hour and a half, I was physically and emotionally drained.
I’ve just had it.
This is not what I wanted to do.
This is not how I wanted my life to be.
I’m so not cut out for teaching children.
Then one girl wanted a piece of pink carton.
I went to fetch five, and added some other colors so I won’t have to go back and forth in case she wanted more.
She didn’t expect it.

When I handed her the material, she squealed with joy and cried, “Thank you! I want to be your student forever!”

That’s it. That’s the story.

There are some people who would read this and go, “So?” And I agree with them.
So she said that. So what?
She’s just a kid.
It’s not like my life is going to get all better now that she said it.
Yeah.

But there are also some people who would read this and smiled, and nodded understandingly. And unfortunately, I agree with them more.

So.
You know.
I still think my life’s pathetic, but...

Maybe I don’t hate myself as much anymore.

For all you fast drivers in the world

2005-01-10T13:39:00.000+07:00

Why, ever since the word “transportation” and “technology” are invented, are we so enthusiastic to go anywhere, anytime, as fast as possible?
Transportation was meant to be a survival aid. Since you are not likely to live in a place where everything you need grows naturally (including companions), you need to go to places that provide those things. In order to get to those places, you need transportation. Of course man’s own two feet are also a form of transportation, generously provided by nature. In fact we were quite happy with this facility for centuries, using them to fetch our basic needs – food, wood, and a form of clothing. It was sufficient.
And then technology walks in. It happened when we realize the world is so much bigger than our walks can cover. There are more places in this world that we can imagine! And God knows what lies on all those places! We were so excited to find out. Ships were built, to explore the mystery and depths of the sea. Wheels were attached to a platform, to construct some kind of land transportation. We moved from using our own (or some animals’) body to a machine that enables us to explore larger areas. We did it all because we want to seek the opportunities; we want more than just the basic needs, which we already have. We want luxury, the kinds that are hardest to get.
Suddenly it became so important to travel. First there was curiosity. Then there’s research. There was also social motivation that forced us to go places. But now one might wonder, is it not all basically our urge for finer things in life? When we leave the house for school/office/store, aren’t we aware that we did it not for inquiries, but for the education/money/things?
Everyday, nowadays, when you get into a car and drive down busy roads, you’d see hard-driving people anxious to “get there before it’s too late”. Acting almost barbaric on the roads, desperate to speed past everything in front of them. Look around, and you’ll see highway and shortcuts, constructed by the city simply to serve the fast-paced world. Planes and helicopters soaring through the clouds.
Frustrated people on traffics.
Busy railroads and crowded sidewalks.
The symphony of horns & graceful maneuvers whenever public buses start to announce themselves on the streets.
Dear God, the things we must cope just to simply move!
A genius named Douglas Adams put it very well in his book, “The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy”. Simply the best book of the universe (it proudly stated itself so in the first page), it contains a part that explains this issue in a simple, amusing way:
“ ‘Why do you mean, why it’s got to be built?’ he said. ‘It’s a bypass. You’ve got to build bypasses.’
Bypasses are devices that allow some people to dash from point A to point B very fast while other people dash from point B to point A very fast. People living at point C, being a point directly in between, are often given to wonder what’s so great about point A that so many people from point B are so keen to get there, and what’s so great about point B that so many people from point A are so keen to get there. They often wish that people would just once and for all work out where the hell they wanted to be. ”
Enough said.

Thought from a very enjoyable conversation

2004-12-22T17:30:00.001+07:00

Aren't images weird?

There is something about them that is very powerful in our lives.

As a prelude, let me explain what I mean by "image" here.

I'm talking about one's image, how a person want to be seen or thought of by the environment, how they wish their friends/family/significant other would think of them.

Image means picture. Keeping your image clean means making sure that how you look, act and interact fulfills the public standard as "good" (despite the fact that the standard may or may not occur in your true personality), in order to obtain a good picture of yourself.

It is a dangerous concept, but perfectly acceptable.

Thoughts came when a friend of mine claimed to have very little skill in keeping his image clean. He's concerned and asked for help. I'm concerned because he did. He happens to be a very nice guy, tolerant, deadly funny and basically a great friend. Random brief moments of dirty talks or harsh behavior may occur - isn't it all too normal for a guy?

Conversation continued in this peer group, where it was questioned why image is so important. One mentioned - after apologizing for being frank - that the main reason he maintain a good image is for him to be liked, more specifically in a romantic sense by someone of the opposite sex.
Very interesting, and one of the reason why the concept is acceptable.

Again, social standard and acceptance is the problem. Why is it so important to be "good"? Because we want to be accepted and liked by other people. And what usually attracts other people is when you play along with them, putting out a charming Dr. Jekyll in the world while you may (or may not) be Mr. Hyde.

Now there are some people (and a specific teacher of mine) who are deeply concerned about this, and would tell you that you shouldn't give a damn about what people are thinking. Be who you are, if they don't like you, screw them. These kind of people are often thought of as thinkers whose barks are bigger than their bites. Extreme isolated people, who often spends time annoying their friends with philosophies. Bad image.

There are two things that needs to be clarified here.

One, not everybody hates Mr. Jekyll. In the case of my friend, many like him the way he is, rough bits and all. Don't we all sometimes tolerate rude friends/family/significant other, because we understand that they're not being serious or they're saying it for our own good, or even simply because we have great affection over them? Admit.

Two, the bad image people tend to put on philosophers mentioned above. I wouldn't know if this is the case (since I'm not one of those people), but I think there's something very important forgotten by the public eye. These people are concerned if you are not being yourself in public, just to be liked. They don't want you to lie about yourself. Honesty expected. What if your personality, your true self just happen to fit public standards as "good"? What if you are basically a polite, nice, considerate-to-old-ladies person? Should you be hated for being "good"?

I don't think so! The concept becomes dangerous when you're actually Mr. Hyde, and you're comfortable with being Mr. Hyde, but you force yourself to be Dr. Jekyll because nobody like a Mr. Hyde.

Now there must be a reason why this second clarification is never heard of. Probably because I misunderstood the whole concept of image-keeping, or I misintrepret the philosophers (if I am, deeply sorry people).

Anyway my point is, this friend of mine shouldn't be worried about how he's not maintaining a good image - if he is comfortable with his own self and would be uncomfortable changing himself. How you present yourself to the world should be only affected by yourself - not external factors.

If this still seems like an extreme point of individualistic view, allow me to soften it a bit: you should only be concerned of improving your image if (a)nobody seems to like you (and I mean nobody), (b)you happen to be in a social-driven occupations, like politicians or celebrities, where "bad" image might cause damage to your life, or simply (c) because you feel like it.

Image means picture. There are beautiful ones, ugly ones, weird ones, and, like Van Gogh paintings, seemingly ugly ones who will someday be considered brilliantly beautiful ones.
Modify if you need, but don't repaint them in trendy colours. Colours will change but the art would never.

To whom it may concern,

2004-11-21T11:31:00.000+07:00

I'm sorry.
As many times as you've heard it from me, I still am. I should be a better friend. And I know you're disappointed at me, because you thought I'm bigger than this. I've seen how you expected certain reactions from me, and it kills me that I can't give them.
I can't be happy for you, and what's more, I don't seem to have a proper reason for it.
I thought hard about it, as you taught me to, and so far I've come out with:
a. I'm just being a big brat who can't accept changes.
b. I'm jealous of her, because I've known her my whole life, and she's always been
ahead of me. There is not a single man who knows both of us and likes me better
than her. She even managed to win your heart in less time it takes for me to be
your friend - without doing anything.
c. You're a really special person to me, and I'm too afraid to lose you. I know you
said you'd still be my teacher and my friend, and I really want to believe it.
It's just that I've heard this from a lot of guys, and it never happened. Don't
blame them - why stick with a friend when you have an amazing girlfriend who can
also be your friend?
d. Seeing someone receiving something I've always dreamed of but never get is
killing me. I guess it slaps me as, "Y'know they keep saying you're a good
person, and yet nobody wants to be with you. Some great people thinks quite high
of you, and even these people would rather choose someone else. So there must be
something wrong with you!"
I don't know which one is the real reason, I don't even know if the real reason was listed, but all above is true. Everything in this writing is true. I really am THAT horrible of a person.
By the way, you are aware that I have no romantic feelings towards you whatsoever, don't you?
And you also understand what I mean when I say I love you.
I really, really wish I can tell you how happy I am for you. But I can't lie to you - and I know as much as you're disappointed at me, you also want me to be perfectly honest. The truth is, it hurts me to hear you talking about her, to see you and her together. And I'm serious when I say it hurts.
God, I HATE THIS!! Everything would be so much easier, as it's supposed to be, if my selfishness would stay away from the bussiness for just once. For GOD'S SAKE, it's not even about ME, this is about YOU finding a GIRL you LIKE. Why can't I, who's supposedly a friend, supporter and protégé, just BE HAPPY about it??
I'm not satisfied with my reasons yet. I'll have to dig deeper.
You're right, it's eating me real bad. Oh man, if only I can tell you about the nights! Times when I'd lay there staring bug-eyed at my sheet as logic and feelings both fight for their existence, my heart pounding so bad it scares me. And how I lost my breath whenever the facts slapped on to reality. Guilt. For the first time since I broke up with my ex, I'd wake up from a two-hour sleep with a damp pillow and a bad migraine.
If you'd known about all this, you'd laugh, I bet.
The nights are always the worst times, probably because I'm alone and can't think straight. It's amazingly irrational - not to mention painful - and the morning will come when I would be astonished at how stupid I was reacting all night. And believe me, I'm always looking forward to those mornings.
I look forward to the time I can be a better friend for both of you. I can promise I'll try to be, but I can't promise anything more. And for that, once again, I'm sorry.

So here we are again….

2004-10-31T18:19:00.000+07:00

I feel like the lowest creature on earth.
Haven’t been able to express it for a while, though…
I hate myself. I’m like this one person who wants to be somebody but always ends up being nobody.
I’m not important. I am. All my life, I’m number two. Hell, I’m even the second child in my family. I guess it runs in my genes.
No wonder it’s so important to be number one for me.
I longed so much to matter. It’s really pathetic, I know. But when you live all your lives being ignored because everybody found somebody better than you, this is pretty much how you end up into.
My friend says it’s because I look up too much, and never look down.
I told him that I can hardly see anything down.
Computer science people, ever heard of a type of data structure called a stack? Any new data that enters becomes the top of stack, and therefore can be accessed first. The bottom of stack, which is the first data to be saved, can only be reached after others have been taken away.
I’m the bottom of stack. Except new things always comes around, and therefore I was never found. I’m known, I exist, but I’m not needed.
Alright, I just relate myself to a data structure, which I know makes me appear even sadder.
What do I want?
I want to be important to somebody. I want to matter. I want to be special to someone, to be able to give something that nobody else can give. I want to be needed. Badly.
Why is this so important to me?
I’ve lived my life looking for somebody to care about what I think, to tell me right from wrong, to believe in me. I’ve screamed and screamed from the bottom of the well. I held on to those I found, I cherish them hard. But some disappears. I’m not that interesting.
Plus I’m not that pretty either.
And I see all these people that found others who cares for them. I’ve seen dozens of people who doesn’t deserve to have so much love and care, but they got it anyway. Why?
Because they look better?
I tend to think it’s because they have something to offer, regardless of what they lack. This little loser right here, however, does not. What do I have to make others interested in me, let alone care for me?
Others would say to me, “You don’t need someone else to make you happy.” And they do have a point. One can be happy with the companion of one’s self. I’ve experienced it many times. But when one feels lonely, the slap of reality comes back. You are only one. Alone.
Whether you live or die does not matter to everyone. If I die, my friends will be sad, but there will be someone to be there for them, to cheer them up. And eventually, I will be forgotten. No one is going to remember me for the rest of their lives.
What a horrible thought.
Now I remember why I don’t want to express this.
It brings out the pain from previous stabs I’ve felt in my heart whenever I was left alone.
It hurts me as I’m typing, but I can’t stop writing…
This is me, a part of me and my past that I’ve covered, but is now bursting out and killing me. It’s a cry for help, and every time I experienced one, I fear that it would be my last. And that I’d give up hope.
I don’t want to.
I still want to believe that I could someday be important to someone. But this is one of the times when I lost that belief, and this moment needs to be remembered. Just so one day, when someone has filled this hole in me, I’d remember what it feels to be alone and ignored.
I am the worst of a kind. I can say that because no one, no one, has been able to prove me wrong. All they said is “No, of course you’re not the worst, you have good things…” and stop.
A complete loser has won the argument.

And the question remains..

2004-10-12T11:48:00.000+07:00

Is it true that if you really love someone, you have to let them go?
If our loved one is not happy with us, as much as we tried to make them, is it wise to let them seek someone else, keeping in mind the possibility that they might not find anyone who can make them happier than you?
Which one is worse...
Trying to do your best and still doesn't make your loved ones happy, or watching other people taking them for granted?
How do we know what's right for ourselves, let alone those we care the most?
As much as we want to, are we doing our best to let them know how much we fall for them?
Someone told me that I would eventually find that one great love.
How will I know if I do, and if I did, how am I supposed to unobtrusively maintain that love?
And all in all...
Are we really caring our loved ones because we want to make them happy, or because making them happy would make us happy?

Argh...

2004-10-02T07:03:00.000+07:00

So this is what it feels like to be under pressure.
Every time I got off the pains on my back, I always forgot how bad it was. That’s why I’m writing about it.
Right now I’m stuck here, with no way out, where everything I do will be a mistake for some people.
IT FEELS LIKE HELL!!!
I don’t know what to do now!! And I don’t have that much time to think about what to do anyway, because my class is waiting, and I’m not prepared for them as well!!!
At times like these I just want to leave all my belongings and run away…
It’s really strange.
We, as humans, are (supposedly) intelligent creatures. That’s why we see all these humans working and having responsibilities, thinking with reasons. Some thinks it made us a more superior creature, which allows us to underestimate other living things. This is what I called “human instinct”, and once you fall into it, there’s no way out. You’re stuck inside all these cages you formed.
As cliché as it may sound, though, we do still have our own animal instinct, to be stupid and irresponsible, or even to do nothing at all….to be completely free.
I am one that believes we are good beings because we are able to control ourselves. But sometimes I questioned, hardly, whether we could be even better creatures by being able to let go.

When ego (and a bit of rebel) takes over

2004-09-06T21:07:00.000+07:00

I am now a free female.
I am enrolled in one of the top universities in the country, studying a very promising field of carreer that will hold my back when anything else fails in the future.
I am well supported with a family that trusts me. I have a mother with a good sense of treatment, a dad with a good sense of style, a sister with broad relations and other two with excellent time management. With them I can do anything.
I have my friends around me, all types of guys that cares for me and lets me care for them, and are willing to help me in their own special ways. I'm taken care of.
I earn money with what probably is my best asset and passion, and by doing so, I have touched the lives of people I have never imagined would know so well. I have helped improve their images of self, and I am getting paid for it.
I have lived my dream, before I am 20.
I am blessed to find joy in other people's happiness, thus making me almost never entirely too unhappy to do things. Little things - the nearly-rain wind on my face, bubbles floating and sparkling peacefully, Circle K - that people ignore are dominant soothing factors for me.
In conclusion,
I have the ability to do what my heart desires, as I am most likely able to economically support it myself, find a friend to do it with, and with the help of my family, look good doing it :)
Nothing is holding me back except myself, and I am most thankful for that.
I AM FREE.

Beautiful?

2004-09-02T12:33:00.001+07:00

Everybody is beautiful in their own ways.
What kind of crap is that?
That's exactly the kind of sentences that can be made up by some low-confidence guy trying to make people like him feel better, or worse, this is made by some sex God(ess) in a desperate attempt to produce a humble response for uncountable compliments s/he might get.
OF COURSE everybody is beautiful in their own ways. But is that supposed to make us, ugly people (no offense, beautiful readers) feel better about ourselves??
Low profile of self is a tricky bussiness. It does starts from inside, when you look around and you look in the mirror and realize that you're not as "attractive" (this taken from whatever standard applied to your environment) as some other people. This grows into a full regret of self, and many many desperate attempts to conjure up a better image, or, if anything else fails, hide ourselves in the darkness. Most of the time people like this need other people to pull them away from this darkness, helping them to believe that they are just as good as any other person. The "pullers", God bless them, have to help build up the pathetic peoples' self-confidence, usually by convincing them to stop thinking about how ugly they are.
Let's stop there.
Now imagine this. You're the puller, you're saying to someone, "Come on, you're not that ugly you know..." and your friend replies, "Yeah right! Just look at my thighs, it's as big as hell, and my face has so many pimples and my ears are uneven, and don't get me started on these scars...."
What are you supposed to say?
"I think you're still beautiful....in your own way."
SEE HOW THAT CAME OUT??
What else can you say to help save your friend? It's unhealthy to have such a bad vision of self, and usually the perfect cure is compliment, and strangely, it has to be physical. And hypothetically, when you can't think of ANY good physical things your friend may possess, but you want them to feel better anyways, THE SENTENCE CAME OUT!!!
I hope by this point you have understood the crap I was referring to.
See, I'm not going to talk about how you built your own confidence. But just like bad visions come from within, the good visions has to come from within as well. People with respect for themselves say, "I am beautiful". Full stop. In more ways than one, people who think they are beautiful, usually are.

The joys of jobs..

2004-06-21T21:59:00.000+07:00

Wednesday is the closing of my English class in Frisian Flag company.
Can't believe I've been doing it for three months!
Aahh, I know them all so well now..
Mr. Asep, the hard worker
Mr. Agus, the laid-back-yet-damn-smart guy
Mr. Rahmat, the father (he's, like, over 50, for goodness sake)
Mr. Kuwat, the clown (or as he requested to be called, Mr. Strong..)
Mr. Ripto, the shy-and-slow-but-actually-smart man
Mr. Simon, the slow-but-confident-and-lovable
Mr. Yanto, the scary-looking but actually very sweet man
Mr. Yus, the smart-ass...
This is crazy.
This is one of the greatest accomplishments in my life.
I mean, all these times I come there, through big rains and heat, I was damn scared at first times I went there..for God's sake I'm about to tell things to a bunch of fathers!!
And then during the heartbreak.
Those times when I would cry everytime I drive all the way from campus to the company, then held my head high and act fun for two whole hours, then cry again the way home..
Man, it was so hard!
Man, it was worth it.
The time when they try to comfort me on being dumped.
The time when somebody (I still don't know who) drew a pelican on the whiteboard and named it "duck", because I just taught them about ducks.
The time when I came late for the final exam and found them studying, with the smartest one explaining on the whiteboard. A view that's enough to warm the heart of the thickest.
Alright, so hundreds of people win awards, and thousands teach people everyday in their lives, and it's not such a big deal...hell, it is for me!
This is exactly what I expected when I applied for this job. A profound effect on myself.
I learned to think simple, because my students really don't know much outside work.
I learned to think more mature, because they worry about their sons and their parents are dying.
I learned that sometimes you do have to treat adults like children, because when it comes to learning something new, everybody's a starter.
I have a stackful of funny stories when they try to say something in English, but failed...alright, I know I'm not SUPPOSED to laugh at them, but they like it anyway.
And most importantly, I learned to tolerate people I never thought I would understand...and make them my friends.
Guys..I'll see you next term. And thanks for the gift, it does adds a thing or two in the joy of teaching you :)

Ah, so this is what it's like...

2004-06-15T22:16:00.000+07:00

AAAHHHHHH....
When the world seems to turn its back on you...
Check the mail, they may be on the net