Archive for January, 2014

insufficient

I was watching “Stuck in Love” the other day, I would not recommend it unless you are like totally emotional (like on your period) and a hopeless sob like me. I quite liked it cause I related to some of the issues, hating your mum, wanting to be a writer… and also…. how I have not experienced life enough.

Some people look at me with my full make-up on and my japanese-styled clothes and go, “Oh, you must be a party girl”, “Total wild child here”, “How many boys have you snogged?”… And the truth is .. I’m just a goodie-two-shoes nerd who just happened to like some … “goth”? “dark”? things. I’ve been to a club twice, I’m sadly allergic to alcohol and smoke makes me cough.

I grew up in life never being in detention more than once (unless the whole class was ordered to by the teacher, so that doesn’t count) and that one time was probably because I forgot to bring my textbook to school.

When I was in primary school, we had a demerit point system where if you misbehave, you will gain 1 demerit point. Once you “collected” a grand total of 5 points, you will be in a lot of trouble. What trouble that is, I don’t really know. I never had a demerit point throughout my school years. I was always afraid of being bad.

Being “bad” was such a taboo thing, since it was drilled into my brain (courtesy of my primary school teachers) that you will suffer dire consequences. I think back now and the main reason why I strived so bloody hard to being “good” was because I wanted to please my parents so desperately.

Parents who viewed me as the black sheep of the family, who never wanted a girl, who never expected a second child. I was a sad accidental baby they had, unlike the golden child of the family: my elder brother. Who was the perfect child, scoring good grades and never getting into trouble. I had to strive to be better than him, or even on the same level as him just to get my parents’ approval.

I think back now and feel sorry about my childhood because I wasn’t daring enough. I was the sort of wallflower introvert and I hung out with people that was slightly… quieter. I was happy and in my comfort zone, I didn’t bother to go out of my way to make other friends. I was happy with the company I had.

Sometimes I feel embarrassed to admit that I’m not the ohsodaring person people think I am. It was awkward for me, talking to friends younger than me and who looked up to me as an elder sister, when they were talking about their bedroom activities because I had none to share, nothing to advise.

I think back about the choices I’ve made, the paths I took and wonder if it’s worth it. Is it worth it to be be “good” all the time? Miss primp and proper? Just to get a slight nod from my parents?

In 2014, I hope that I can find the courage to be more daring and adventurous because it is certain to me now, that I would never live up to my parents’ expectations of me, and any other effort on my part is such a waste of time. Waste of my life. I want to live a life that when I’m old and wrinkly, I can look back and feel appeased that I have stories to tell and experiences to share.

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How oddly comforting

As I sit here and type this, I’m in the midst of a (already) 2-hour skype conversation with my best friend, alone in my room on a Saturday afternoon.

There’s not much a of a conversation really. The only sounds I make are the tic-tats of my keyboard and clearing my throat once in a while as I surf the net. And my best friend only says, “Oh shit ! Oh shit” from time to time, as she plays Left4Dead on her laptop. On and off, I can hear the distant sounds of her cousin fussing around in the kitchen.

As weird as it may sound, it is strangely comforting to be connected to someone (whilst wanting to be anti-social, #isthatweird). I caught a bad cold a few days past and am very reluctant to leave the house. Not because I would be spreading germs to innocent people, but the thought of not having enough tissue papers to curb my dripping nose is daunting.

While I do want to be a couch-potato; watch TV and snack on cookies all day, my taste buds have gone wonky and eating cookies feel nothing more than chewing on crunchy air. There is no taste and definitely no joy in my treasured treats. As such, I have holed myself up in the comforts of my room, hugging a soft toy, surfing buzzfeed and listening to my bestie curse over our call.

I am bored, hungry and upset but at least I feel somewhat “connected” to someone in my hour of gloom. Thank you glorious technology. For if without, I would be probably on the floor, scratching out carvings on my wooden floor.

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