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.
Thursday
Monday
For all you fast drivers in the world
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.
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.
Wednesday
Thought from a very enjoyable conversation
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.
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.
Sunday
To whom it may concern,
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.
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….
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.
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.
Tuesday
And the question remains..
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?
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?
Saturday
Argh...
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.
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.
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