2 years ago, I wouldn't have imagine what was it like to stop writing on my blog.
Now, I just miss the times when I have too much about me to tell.
Some people once told me only lame people write blog/ diaries, others are too busy living their awesome shining life.
Well that is not true.
My life has got even lame-r than it ever had been but I stopped writing.
Maybe people just stop reflecting on themselves when they are too busy or too free.
Either of the extreme, you felt like you are occupied by the glory or the emptiness, it just kept you from thinking about yourself
So how was me?
I started putting on makeups. It became a ritual.
I dress up myself, put on high heels, paint my face, and ready to smile at the bad times.
I enjoy staring into the mirror as my cleanser melt the makeups away.
It calms me down. Its more like a symbolic action to me.
Like I'm finally off that table of documents and back to the leekahinn who had never grow up a single bit.
Well, I hadnt do my birthday post this year.
Might as well make this one of it.
I forgot when I stopped celebrating birthdays.
Mum & Dad used to take us out for a decent western meal on our birthdays.
And we get to go Toys R Us, pick up a toy that I would lose interest as soon as I get a hold on it.
That's just what I do, buy something just to own and forget about the initial craze.
way to go leekahinn. way to go.
uh huh. uh huh. I have always been aware of my 3-minute interest in basically everything.
so, I was talking bout make-ups.
Or the mask I have been wearing upon facing reality.
I think all my emoness was about whether I should keep on having the mask on and off and should I just let the mask melt upon my face?
I mean, calling it a mask may not do much justice, cause, I'm not an entirely different person under it and without it.
Its just, all those makeups, high heels, dresses and coat, it made me felt, hmm what's the word, stronger? mentally stronger?
Like I am more ready, or acceptable, towards the meaness coldness illogical shits.
and that I can take more rejects, huge NOs, firm NOs, fucking NOs, I-m-too-busy-so-no NOs.
The thing is growing up, is that I realize the spaces around me getting smaller.
MENTAL spaces.
Like when you were a kid, I felt like I have so many things!
I would walk around the house at 12 am when everyone is sound asleep,
and I would just count on the stuffs I have
From soft toys to random stationary to cds
I had so much that I used to make myself decide which to bring had I were ever ordered to evacuate... *assuming scenes of apocalypse*
#ProudOfMyImaginations
I always struggled! Do I bring more books to appear smart or bring more huggybears/barbie dolls to appear soft and weak.
At that age, I always believe that if you could convince people that you are soft and weak, you can be anything you want. Well, at least that's what school had taught.
Cry whenever the teacher wanna question you, they will just know you are innocent, and ready to trust all your bull shits. It helps when you are tiny and fair too.
When you are gigantum like me, don't bother trying.
You hardly see people lovingly look at a whale or a shark don't you
So back to my struggles. Apparently, back then, I wasn't so much a book person.
I was lame and ordinary.
I like barbie dolls, totally bought-in the rich prince poor servant love.
I believed in the television, to be precise, the craps in the television.
But hey look at me now, I drive recklessly, live like a hobo, and sometimes secretly wanna be a beggar for a day.
I have packed and packed many times in my life and I'm getting good at it.
Whenever I go, I don't really unpack.
Because I always felt like I'm leaving soon, SOON.
I don't bother settling stuffs into organised manner because I always have this deep intuitive that i am leaving.
Settling down never sound like an option to me.
It was always something I wish others well for.
"Oh hey, happy for your marriage, so settling down huh? Good for you!"
"I heard you've been on a new job for a while. How was it? Great You think gonna stay?Wow terrific! I am so happy to hear this!"
"So you think you will move to the new place with your boyfren? Glad that you guys are taking the next step! Way to go!! Having your own family has always been your dream ain't it! Please don't you ever forget to invite me on your wedding!"
"Going further studies? WOW! Thats good thing! I thought its about time you start pursuing something you want!Keep me posted! Well send me some postcards will ya?"
Seeing people taking off into another phase of life
Seeing people choosing to call a place home
I never understand that
What was it like to settle down?
What was it like to wanting to settle down?
Does it mean you stop worrying about you running out of disposable underwear?
Does it mean you stop worrying about missing an obvious opportunities?
Does it mean you can officially say that your primary commitment need you?
Does it mean you don't feel as worthless during weekends?
What is the weight of such commitment?
As I am washing my hands in that washroom of client with and office of 1970s,
I lift my head and accidentally caught a glimpse of my reflection
And every time, I hear Mulan closing the door and begun singing,
"Look at me,
I will never pass for a perfect bride, or a perfect daughter.
Can it be,
I'm not meant to play this part?
Now I see, that if I were truly to be myself,
I would break my family's heart.
Who is that girl I see, staring straight back at me?
Why is my reflection someone I don't know
Somehow I cannot hide,
Who I am, thought I've tried,
When will my reflection show, who I am inside?
How I pray, that a time will come,
I can free myself, from their expectations
On that day, I'll discover someway to be myself,
and to make my family proud.
They want a docile lamb,
No-one knows who I am.
Must there be a secret me,
I'm forced to hide?
Must I pretend that I am someone else for all time?
When will my reflection show, who I am inside?
When will my reflection show, who I am inside?"
- Mulan, Reflection
Who is this pale face with annoying blush spot?
Who is this in dresses and high heels walking upright trying to speak convincing and persuasive?
Must there be a secret me, I'm forced to hide?
Must there be a secret me, I'm forced to hide?
Must there be a secret me, I'm forced to hide?
Must there be a secret me, I'm forced to hide?
Must there be a secret me, I'm forced to hide?
Must there be a secret me, I'm forced to hide?
Must there be a secret me, I'm forced to hide?
Must there be a secret me, I'm forced to hide?
I don't hate myself under this working look,
its just, I wonder what is the balance between the working look and my just-me-surviving look?
Writing like this makes me feel awesome.
Right, its the best in fact.
Easily I felt ok again.
I always feel ok again.
