Anxiety.

I often think of how others will feel or get impacted by my actions.

Will I trouble them if I miss a day of work? If yes, I will drag my body to work even if it hurts me.

“You know, health is everything.” H quietly stirred her cup of drink as she watched me drown my cup of coffee, rather enviously.

I felt bad, as though a reflex to her envious gaze. Drinking the drink that we often indulged our carefree afternoons with, while we were young and less burdened with responsibilities.

Now much older, her health became a deterrent to our favourite cup.

She sensed my silence and cracked a joke, “come on, maybe if I’m good, I’ll get to drink it with you once again.”

Though deep in our hearts, we both know that it’s rather impossible, it would be good to maintain status quo.

The silence said it all.

“Don’t be like me, take good care of yourself…” she said, sensing my anxiety amongst the crowd. “Your anxiety seems to be getting worse.”

I couldn’t manage a response, overwhelmed by the crowd, yet trapped in the mall because of the rain that’s not letting up.

“I’m trying.”

“For who?”

That sentence struck me, hard.

“Try for yourself, heck how others feel. If they need to cover you and feel unhappy about it, they need to quit their job. It’s not your fault, really.”

“But it sucks to hear it…”

“They’re selfish. That’s it, why do you need to be considerate to others on the expense of your own well-being?” H rolled her eyes, frustrated by my lack of response.

“Not like they appreciate it anyway, they prolly take it for granted. You’re a nobody to them, but you’re a someone to your family and friends. People who guilt trip you when you’re feeling unwell, clearly isn’t your friend anyway.”

Perhaps.

Her voice fades as I’m lost in my own thoughts.

Perhaps, I’m investing my time in the nobodies, instead of the somebodies.

Perhaps this is all, nothing but a mistake.

“Come on la, don’t sulk please. I’m not angry with you.”

I shook my head, “I’m not. Thanks for always being so concerned, and for thinking of me despite of the things that you’ve been going through.”

“You know, being ill, lets you gain perspectives. It’s like a pair of glasses when you’ve been short sighted all your life. You gain clarity what matters more, and who are the people who truly cares. You, my friend, has been my rock, and I want to be yours too.”

H reduced me to a public embarrassment as I cried in the middle of the shopping mall.

May we all be healed, in our terms.

Familiarity.

I was shopping around the store, when I heard a familiar tune. I mouthed every single word of the lyrics accurately, down to the adlibs.

I wasn’t interested in what the store has to offer, entirely distracted by the playlist that the employee had put up. Song after song, I “sang” along, and time and time again, I stunned myself by knowing the lyrics, without even knowing the title of the song. (I may have walked a good 20 rounds around the small store and scrutinized every single piece of article of clothing before leaving.)

We often say that time erodes memories, and fade experiences.

But time and time again, it is proven wrong.

As soon as the familiarity hits, no matter how much time we have between us, it all rushes back.

I remember fondly the Sunday mornings where brother and I would sit infront of the telly to watch MTV’s Top 20 countdown, singing along to every single song, rapping to every single profanity of Eminem’s drops. We cheer when the songs we like are in the top 3, felt sad when the familiar tunes dropped out of the top 20.

Gone are the Sundays where we spent time together. Grown up and married, I hardly see the brother at home anymore, much less the luxury of sitting down together to watch a programme.

A tinge of regret rushes back when I thought of the times that I thought that time is infinite, and we would all never grow up.

Time and time again, only time would tell.

100%

For a long time, or should I say, for a large part of my life, I wanted to be the 100% girl.

Not on my own terms, but the 100% girl in the eyes of others.

The perfect girl, shiny, and impeccable in the eyes of others.

For that 100% that I chased, I measured myself against others whom I deemed as 100% in my eyes, and poured in hard work towards it.

In the process, insecurity engulfed me. Instead of becoming the confident happy person that I thought I was working towards, I was sprinting backwards. Every time I compare, I felt I was lacking. When people commented about my progress, I heard it as sarcasm. I can never take a genuine compliment as it is, I would put myself down in the process while the compliment was given, like it was undeserving, when I had actually put in hard work for it. It makes me shake, now that I am typing this.

Because it was me, who single-handedly destroyed myself.

I had a good conversation with my friend, and she said, “Y’know, people around you love you for who you are, and not your potentials, and who you can be. If you want to work hard, that’s great, but remember, work hard for yourself, not because someone say you have the potential to do great things. In this crazy world where every one is measured by their potential and abilities, it is so hard to not get swept away by this storm. Be your own 100%, and even if you are not quite there, you will always know that this is a work in progress, and no one can take it from you.”

Indeed, no one can take it away from you.

Moving ahead to be my own 100% girl.

Picking up the brush after months is…need to practice more.

To end off the post in a light hearted note, XiaoMi says I’m a 100 too.

Of Hellos and Goodbyes.

That was the first Hello we had, and then it happens to be the last Goodbye as well.

You were happily zipping around us all, never holding still for a shot. Bursting energy, little ball of life.

The news I read made me wonder, how many hellos and goodbyes do we have with all things in life. How many greetings became unknowingly became the last? How many more hellos do we have?

I finally muttered the last goodbye to the last shred of connection we once shared. As I irreversibly removed it with numerous clicks and endless phone calls to made sure that I wipe out the last remaining trace.

Hello, and Goodbye.

1.

Hello new year.

Dear 2020, thank you for all the hurt, confusions, challenges and lastly growth.

I will be better in this year, mentally and physically. This is not a New Year Resolution like previous years, it is a promise to self and to the people who love me.

I’m already at more than half way point, and I look forward to continually evolve and see where I can end up.

202NE1, we’ve got this.

As if on cue, 2NE1’s 내가 제일 잘나가 starts playing.

删.

这是一段,写了又删,删了又写的文字。

那些仿佛离不开口的温度,由手指尖一键一键地敲出。

其实有很多说不出口的感觉,化作哽咽的时候。我不喜欢谈感受,那种轻轻触碰就能挤出莫名的泪水的感受。

那些莫名的感受。

那些处理不清的感受,偶尔熟悉,偶尔陌生。

多么让人捉摸不清,多么像我们世上的每一个人。

x

我又删了一段文字。

是在和谁交待呢?

我不说,没有人会知道吧?

xx

其实,很多事情都是仪式感。

就像我在网上找到我之前要不回的书一样。

要的不过是失而复得的快感。

那该死的仪式感。

xxx

最近的天气不是变态热,便是狂风暴雨。

极端得没有灰色地带。

天气还比很多人爽快,帅气。

xxxx

年末,最后一样东西丢进垃圾桶里。

不褒不贬。

只求与我无关。

xxxxx

我想了很久,大概也想要划清界限吧。

会慢慢地把中文的文章移到别的地方去,重新开始。

I am…

I am still very much me.

Thoughts a lil disjointed, mood a lil erratic, but otherwise I am still very much me.

Many things have been happening, and I am still struggling to internalize and digest all the events and emotions. Emotions is a scary creature, on days it washes all over, slooshing through my every vein. On other days, it seemed almost foreign, like a barely visible fog that wafts in and out of my vision.

偶尔清晰,偶尔模糊

I recall reading a book about a boy who has the ability to transfer injuries. He started transferring all sorts of injuries from others to himself, because he’d rather that he suffer alone in this world. One day, he met a girl, who had little will to live. He started to wonder if he can transfer mental pain as well, instead of physical pain and wounds. He held her hand, and transferred her pain to himself.

What happened next was beyond his expectations, the amount of pain was far more excruciating than any physical wounds he had experienced. The visceral pain engulfed him inside out.

I don’t remember what happened in the end, but I remembered the paragraphs where he met the girl very well, and the imageries of him transferring the pain, collapsing and crumpling from the pain from the words.

I wondered if in the end he recovered from it all, that beautiful soul who sacrificed himself for others. He could have easily used his ability to transfer pain to another individual, but he chose not to.

I guess, we are truly the sum of our choices.

We chose to become us, amidst the many different choices and circumstances that we are subjected to.

We chose to become us.

Happy Anniversary

I think every year, I make the same silly goal of wanting to blog atleast once a year.

And every year, I don’t quite seem to make it happen.

This year is no different, an unprecedented year, with a more than expected lapses in blogging.

Funny isn’t it.

To spend money on a yearly basis on something that I hardly touch, as though I pay to maintain my existence on the world wide web. As I received the yearly reminder of payment for my domain, I start to wonder, perhaps that it would be wiser to move on from this space, this domain to another space.

Because I don’t see the need to write for an audience now, I write mainly to amuse myself these days. I write on receipts when I am out, or type it out on my notepad while observing the people around me. While this domain scored zero entries, my physical entries is growing with scraps of receipts taped to a notebook, with me transferring my notepad entries into a notebook. It is a quaint notebook, but it is a true reflection of me as a human being.

As I pondered and toyed with the idea of letting this go, the renewal came and go.

So I guess, I have another year to explore with this blogging spot. Happy Anniversary little one.

Hopefully, I will grow into the habit of typing little nugget of entries in you. Thank you for being here to record my thoughts.

Happy Anniversary.

修.坏

“坏了,看能不能修一修?”

望去,只见父母正严肃地讨论着眼前的插座。

“其实,也不贵。我们为什么不买个新的?”我终于控制不住自己的嘴巴,问了他们。

妈立刻皱眉头,想也不想就说:“明明就还有两个还能用,为什么要因为一个就把它丢了?”

“它已经坏了,你只能修好,不可能再修坏呀!不修修看,你又知道它没救了?”老豆呵呵地笑道。

于是,我们动手把它一片一片地拆开。

其实,我们对待坏了的东西的态度,和人与人之间的态度相近。

父母那一辈的人,总想着可以修,可以补。对待事情时,他们总觉得有得补救,天无绝人之路。

至少努力过了,就像那个插座一样,坏了,也只能选择看开。一个坏了,还有两个能用也不错。他们的乐天派,和我们的完美派形成了强烈的对比。

如果是我,我会毫不犹豫地把插座扔了。因为它不完美。

自己写的,只要觉得感觉不到位,便会一字不漏地把它删了。

人,一旦疏远,就会替自己想个借口,把他过去的好与坏都删除、忘却。

都只怪自己不够好。

常常把自己逼入死角。

偶尔,世界用巧妙的方法提醒你,你虽然不完美,但也还是很不错。

You are imperfect, but enough.

And that’s enough for me.