Saturday, August 25, 2018

What a busy bee

Hello again, my fellow readers.

The final semester involved a hectic introduction. Not only did I fly in on the day of classes (crazy idea, in hindsight), I rocked up in a state of jet lag and confusion. I don’t think I understood a single bit of the course content. In fact, as I’m writing this post, I’m surrounded by a mountain load of assignments that are all due next week and the following week.

Tough luck.

Although the intention was to watch Mamma Mia: Here We Go Again during the winter break, I was abroad and distracted by a multitude of things that occurred. Seeing that the movie was still in session last week, I decided to watch it - alone. It suited me fine because I needed the time out after a stressful beginning and away from the homo sapiens. One of the friends loves Mamma Mia/ABBA, but I’m sure the person would’ve watched it the moment it premiered, lol. Furthermore, it wasn’t like we could agree on a mutually available period to go together based on our schedules. For our last movie hangout, it took us so much planning to carve some time out from the schedule.

And I don’t need anyone to see the tears swimming in my eyes as a result of the plot twist. Firstly, Mamma Mia reminded me of someone whom I’m no longer in contact with, which left my stomach in knots. Certain scenes were a tearjerker for me, but in terms of the scale of sadness, it wasn’t as impactful as The Best of Me or Me Before You. Gosh, if you guys are able to secure a copy of either film, you should have a peek at it. Secondly, I’ve the tendency of watching films on a whim, especially when I’m stressed, since the cinema was within walking distance from the campus.

But on the bright side, at least it allowed me an opportunity to take some time out and regain my stability amidst the academic stress… because I feel like I’m drowning in a pressure cooker.

Hyperbole intended.

It also doesn’t help that my sleeping patterns have been thrown out of the whack. There are days when I operate on 5 hours of sleep. There are other days when I need at least 10 hours of sleep to conquer my daily tasks and overcome procrastination. And there are those days when I just want to forget about everything and lay in bed. I’m sure this is a sign of me shutting down internally and emotionally - it’s better than snapping like a dog on steroids. Furthermore, I know that I’m in trouble when coffee isn’t helping me to stay awake. It just leaves me in the same mood that I was before drinking it. I’d like to think that the reason why it’s not working is because I’ve a caffeinated bloodstream, but, truth be told, the real reason would be a severe dose of sleep deprivation. Thank heavens I’ve not slipped into that mode where I’ll wear eyeshadow to hide how exhausted I am - or accentuate the exhaustion to such point that I won’t be asked whether I’m tired or coping well.

Saturday, August 11, 2018


I dreamt that we were lost at the intersection. There were buildings surrounding us and somewhere in the near distance was a famous shopping mall. As we approached the roundabout, the car driver suggested that I look at the map for directions and I could find it in the pocket by the passenger side. When I retrieved it and opened it, it read ‘Mid Valley Ring Road’ at the top of the map. I stumbled for a second because the ‘Mid Valley Ring Road’ I remembered was not the one in front of us.

In the next scene, I applied for a position and surprisingly was accepted. The condition was that I had to collaborate with two Caucasian colleagues. When they found out that I am from Subang Jaya, they asked if I harbored any intention of returning to my hometown or if I was staying back in the country.

We went on a road trip to some place that I don’t recognize and found myself in the direction of the toilets. I’d like to think that it’s because of a number one or number two, but when I arrived at the entrance, I realized that it wasn’t. Outside the entrance were framed drawings of beaches on the walls. Inside, there were multiple dividers made from rattan separating the cubicles.

To be honest, I’m not extremely surprised that I was lost in the dream because my subconscious is a reflection of what my thoughts are. I’m more lost in the waking hours not because I’m confused, but because I’ve seen the true colors of those who I thought carried a genuine personality. Heck, I’m not even sure what the future holds now. To see it being reflected in the dream was nothing surprising.

According to this website, there are different interpretations about dreaming of maps. One of which is that it means I haven’t found my footing after all these years and as a result, I’m not settled with my surroundings. Again, the dream speaks for itself.

As for the car driver, it was someone much older than me. Someone from the previous generation. Someone who I figured would be Papa Carrie, seeing that it’s a male, but let’s just say that it had the aura of a father figure. Seeing that it’s not me who is driving (ironic because I’m not a license holder yet), it might mean that I’ve given up control of my own life. But we’ll see on that.

And for the toilet scene, this is the second time that I have dreamt of toilet cubicles. This website plainly suggests that there is some form of negativity in my life that I want to wash out.

Tuesday, August 7, 2018


Spending time with the sister as she played a bunch of songs on the piano in our faculty (don’t ask why it’s there; I don’t have the answer for you), a particular piece pained my heart so much that I thought someone stabbed me with a knife. It made me think how beautiful it would be if the three of us - one on piano, one on guitar, and one chilling with her eyes closed - were somewhere at the beach, enjoying each other’s company with a glass of wine to lighten the mood and relax our tired souls.

This, unfortunately, has made me analyse my behavior in college at the commencement and right up to graduation. The first couple of weeks on campus were rather uneventful; it was nothing out of ordinary - just a lost girl finding her footing on stable ground without attracting drama. It was in the third week that things became more interesting. I guess it started when that child asked me why I enrolled into History instead of keeping my slot in Economics. The truth is, there was a late opening for History and I wanted it so bad that I didn’t mind the daily commute at 7 am.

Yes, you read that right.

The daily commute at 7 am.

The smile slid off my face when I saw a couple of familiar faces, but I should’ve seen it coming. There were signs indicating that child loves his history as much as he does with creative writing and I must’ve been blind to dismiss it. There’s more I could spill, but I’ve been careful about revealing the amount of information on this part of college life. I’ve always had a soft spot for that child; as weird as it may sound to your ears, we loved driving each other up the wall in our unique way. I don’t expect him to know this: he was the first person who came into my mind during my college semesters whenever I wanted to share a piece of good news or needed his help on something, but I controlled myself from approaching him.

So long, my friend. Always know that the wind will carry my wishes and prayers to you by its own method. Although I don’t necessarily appreciate the covert inferences, I know that’s just you being you.

Okay. I’m tired of life as a whole. As it turns out, no matter how much I wanted to hate the decision I made to pursue the degree abroad rather than locally (and save myself one year and the financial expenses attached to that extra 12 months), masks are starting to fall off the faces. People’s true colors have emerged from the dark abyss of their heart, illustrating their priorities and thoughts. Heck, I even feel myself changing - for better or for worse, I don’t know. Only the suspicion that I’m not who I was when I graduated from college.

I’m easily distracted nowadays and feel like something else is taking hold of my attention. Although I barely focus for long, I somehow manage to summon enough energy from somewhere to force myself to remain in the present and take notes in tutorials or lectures. I’d like to think it’s the cause of the wintry weather, but a part of me believes that there is more to it than meets the eye. I’m also easily exhausted. If not for the compulsory attendance at lectures and tutorials, I would be sleeping it off to cure the exhaustion - or at least that’s what I’ll attempt to.

But what I’m worried the most is not the physical exhaustion, but the emotional one where no amount of sleep/rest can cure it. Don’t blame me for such a thought; I don’t wake up feeling refreshed. In fact, if I have a choice, I’d stay in bed for the whole day and suffer the consequences for doing so, such as the overdue errands.

Saturday, August 4, 2018


Maybe it’s the effects of winter, I don’t know.

Writing this in the wee hours of the morning when I have an 8 am class isn’t exactly the best thing I should be doing. It doesn’t help that I’m about to blog on flashbacks - of all the topics to choose from. Flashbacks of the awkward interaction have occurred at times when I don’t need it to affect my emotions.

It has happened so many times out of nowhere, ready to pounce on the unsuspecting me. You can see the change in me if you look careful; I’ll retreat into my shell and detach from the present situation. When that happens, just leave me as it is.

The fact is I’m tired.

I’m tired of dealing with things.

I’m tired of pretending everything is okay when it's not. You guys will never understand unless you’ve lived my life in my shoes.

My heart bleeds uncontrollably when those episodes decide to ruin my day. It is during those moments of discomfort that I ask myself, have I gotten the short end of the stick? Has life given me too much to handle at such a tender age - even before I’m of the legal drinking age? I know that we all have our own battles to fight in the dark, but I just can’t help but wonder why some people are exempted from the cruel stroke of fate. I don't like being tormented by those flashbacks because it angers me to the point where my sleep is disrupted.

Sure, having someone there to soothe the anger would be good, but I’m not one who listens to reassurances. It's either let me whinge or piss off. It's either help me to resolve it or leave me alone. Reassurances won't change a thing; if it does, I wouldn't be so … on the edge. But it’ll would help if there's someone to embrace me with the warmth, comfort, and strength.

Just sitting there in the silence with me, watching the bright lights of dusk.

Just sitting there with whispers of the night.

It makes me wonder whether things would be different if a crystal ball had been used. Certain things would’ve remained the same, that's for sure, but there would’ve been changes. For one, I’d have been able to make enough inferences from the evidence to formulate an argument on this. In an alternate universe, where perfection exists, yes, I'm confident that I can deal with it. I skirted around it with the hope that it’ll die out - much to from the evidence to the allegations although it was just hearsay. It didn’t work - much to my shock and horror.

Because I knew what I stood against from the outset, I saw us more suited as friends and nothing more than that. I could predict the amount of complications and headache spanning from it. Yet my heart still feels uncomfortable every time I see/hear something that reminds me of him.

Maybe it’s because of that card I played.

I played it without fear or understanding of the consequences that will arise from my actions.

Although I have said it before and countless times before (that I’m comfortable with leaving things the way it is if it meant happiness on his side), my heart seems to disagree with my brain. The heart wants the opportunity to make amends and soothe the awkwardness that may have occurred between us in the past. The brain, on the other hand, has created an invisible barrier in between and keeps reminding me that it’d be for the worse if I ever find a way to communicate with him.
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