Romeo And Juliet

Falling in love at 13 and people call it puppy love.
That it doesn't matter.
It will never matter.
And they are the same spirits that romanticize Romeo and Juliet.

Falling in love at 20 but people can no longer have trust.
He loves her, but he loves her too.
She loves him, but not as much as she loves him.
And they are the same spirits that believe love comes with honesty and maturity.

Falling in love at 30 and people rush towards it because time is now a fiend.
He's good enough, I guess.
She'll do.
Beggars can't be choosers.
And they are the same souls that believes a soul is specially made for another.

Falling in love at 40 are for people who have nothing to lose.
A second chance at love they say.
Or it could be a moment of that long awaited "finally"
And they are the few lucky souls that truly understand romeo and juliet..

- Vise Leau

The right thing.

We were always told as kids, teens, even as adults that we should do the right thing. That we should always teach our future generations and kids to do the right thing. Teachers and parents get the most pressure in teaching their kids and students exactly that. Because as we enter the adults realm we still have second thoughts of whether what we do is the right thing. There's always this vague line. A silver lining that stops us from thinking  it is the right thing and we start questioning our decisions. A vague line that tells us everything is subjective and nothing is just black and white or wrong or right. So how did we get the right to teach young kids what is wrong and right when we aren't even sure ourselves?

I find myself worrying about that line more times than I could count as I become a lecturer and suddenly have 100 kids to take care of. These kids who are 19 and still have identity crisis. These kids who are still trying to figure out the way of life yet knowing nothing of it. These kids who are told they have to be respectful of everyone without getting any respect as students themselves. These kids who were taught nothing of what they are supposedly taught to become. And there I stand, in the middle of it all. To agree with what the lecturers think about them because it is the right way or thing to do. Or to tell the students what the lecturers say and how they are somewhat right or wrong. I couldn't tell the students they were wrong even if they were. They already know they are. Lecturers have told them that countless times. What the lecturers haven't done is putting themselves in their shoes and find out why they have been acting in such ways. The only way to reason with a person is if we know the other person's reason. How can you blatantly ask someone to change if you don't know why they are the way they are in the first place?

Which is why I always tell myself never judge the students min. Regardless of how tactless they can be in class sometimes. Maybe it's their way of breaking the ice. Maybe it's the only way trusts can be earned between the lecturer and her students. But very so often, I find myself still offending them, still crossing lines I shouldn't, still not understanding where they're coming from despite being in their shoes myself just a year ago.

Still saying the wrong thing about the rights and wrongs. I often ask myself why I torture myself with these self conflicting views when I always proclaimed that I never really cared for teaching, or the kids. Always stating that I'm only staying for the salary and nothing more. But no matter how much I try to put a barrier between me and the students, emotions will always get entangled. I know.

I know that it's inevitable. It's one of the many blessings as well as a curse of human interaction. For me.

How do I explain to them that right and wrong has no definite definitions? That all are subjective based on environment and situations? How do I tell them that and still tell them that "but hey you guys are still wrong because it is?"

Break's Over.

Raya (for me that is) is almost over and that means my break is almost over too. Honestly I can't wait to go back to rehabilitation. The real world has been so scary, annoying and downright a terrifying experience. I didn't know how bad it was until I re-joined it after being cut off from it for almost 3 weeks. Everything just hits you and no one is that apologetic, or sympathetic.

Kinda relieved I'll be going back. Cause I need it. But also kind of scared. Mainly because it took me a while to get used to the public after they released me for a temporary break (says raya is time for "family" after all. what nonsense) and now I'm okay with it. Tired. Drained. But okay with it.

This time I'll be staying in for far longer and I wonder if I'll be okay when they let me out again.

I lost myself. I lost you. I can't afford to lose everyone else too.

But  I did. And it hurts. It hurts so bad.

#3

I finally got my phone and internet privileges. But I decided to stick with internet only and only check my phone on sundays out of basic necessity. 

Ever since I was allowed to use the internet about a week ago, the only thing I wanted to do was to go on my blog and rant  like a normal person. It feels like the only normal thing I'm capable of doing on my own these days. Things have been rocky. Up and down. But that's, I guess, normal too. 

I'm tired of taking pills everyday though. Back then when I wasn't on tight supervision I could cheat and not take it for days. But now that I have a nurse watching me everytime I down my pills there's no way for me to cheat on myself anymore. Which is good I guess. Again. It's always just a guess. Never affirmation. 

I mentioned earlier how I was finally given permission to use my phone last week. And as soon as I open the thousands of text messages awaiting me, I felt the regret almost immediately. I felt this huge pain on my chest. And I just did not feel like wanting to go any further. The anxiety to reply and to inform people of my presence was worse than when I was working at that call centre. It took me a whole day to calm myself down just enough for me to read the messages and reply. Being away from society for so long has its ups and downs. I guess. 

Friends getting married. Bachelorette plans. Other friends contacting and asking where I was. All of it just became overwhelming. I don't know how I'm supposed to go back into the real world in 4 months. Or worse, earlier than that. But that would mean I'm finally healthy again right? That would mean I don't need to worry about things like social anxiety and panic attacks. Right? That would mean I will be fine. Right?

Lol I've been trying since I was thirteen, idk why now this programme will make any difference at all. 

Only Means of Communication.

It's been two weeks since I first entered and the longing to connect with the outside world fades as the days grew longer. Thank goodness. I never thought I could live without a phone for two weeks but here I am.

I found some good friends here and I have made some good progress since my first day.

It feels good because the friends I made here actually understand what I'm going through as they are going through things themselves. We don't judge and we don't try to give each other advices. And we never say "Yeah we all go through the same thing" because we know despite the fact that we are all going through treatments, depending on one's circumstances and situations, none of us are going through the exact same journey. And saying that we do is an offense to everybody's unique, individual journey here. This is by far the best realization I have made here.

I'm still alive.

I'm struggling here but I'm alive.

That's all you need to know for now.


Till next time outside world.


p.s ramadhan's here btw.

The very vague definition of love

Someone said once if love is so good then why does it bring it so much pain to so many people. But someone else has also once said, hate, fear spreads but fortunately love spreads too.

Another said, love that brings you pain are the wrong kinds of love. That is why love for god is the only one true love. He will never betray your love like people do.But how is that possible? How could love ever betray you when you were the one who chose love?

People betray you. Trust betray you. But love? Apparently never.

Procrastination at its best.

In your humble opinion, how long does it take procrastinator to make its next move? A procrastinator would say a whole lifetime, unless a due date is given.

I don't know when procrastination became a part of me, but one day it just did and I have never had enough willpower to fight it wholeheartedly. For many years, ongoing efforts were made to fight it but as you can see, to no avail. 

And as my work starts to pile up to an impossible mountain, my anxiety level increases. But the procrastination never backed down regardless how dire everything seems to be. Believe me I'm trying to fight it every single day. I know that I'm no longer at an age where procrastination is allowed. I know that if I still maintain this unhealthy habit I will never achieve the goals I have set upon myself. And everyday I try to find some sort of motivation to help me overcome this stupid habit.
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I've always admired people who are able to change themselves. Change their habits for self betterment cause it is hard as hell. You fight with yourself everyday, and during those internal struggles, you can't be happy. You're too focused on a battle that never seems to end and you end up having no time to feel happy at all.

Some say if you can't fight em, join em. And procrastination is really good at recruiting people. If procrastination was a person, I would die to be her apprentice. How do you stand tall in the midst of all the hatred directed towards you? How are you able to fight everyone and prevail as the one bad habit in almost every person's life that they can never seem to really eradicate? Just how do you do it?

Two sides of a story

Every story has two sides. Every. Even if dead men tell no tales. But most of the time only one side of the story is heard. Only one side of the story is able to reach people's ears. And the other side lay buried because what's the point of telling what people do not want to hear? 

Every story has two sides. But often, even when both sides of the story are told, the jury will always favor the story she liked better. The person she liked better. The person she hates less. Regardless of whether that side is wrong or right. And most people would tell you that's just how the world works. Life is unfair and it will never be fair so don't count your blessings on it. 

Stories are one thing. Battles are another. Regardless of who is in the wrong in the story, each player is still fighting its own battles, and when we take that into account it changes the side we find ourselves rooting for in the story, regardless of whether they are wrong or right. But wrong and right have always been subjective haven't they. They have always been vague and uncertain. A silver blur. Lining becomes a lost cause. Regardless we have to hear both sides. We have to see both battles. We have to decide who deserves to be saved and who is destined to lick the fires of devastation. We decide. But on what grounds? Was it just? Was it really for the better? Or was it for past mistakes self-justification?

There are two sides to a story. And every side thinks their truth is the real truth. What they did was justified and the best thing to do at that moment. And that results in the chaos we now call our lives. 

Desperate or lack of love?

I think, for as long as I can remember, I have struggled with the need of some kind of validation from the opposite sex. Ironic considering how I always proclaim myself as independent. Feminist.  At first I thought it was just because of my natural instinct as a female species to have desire towards boys. But to have it when I was 9? 10 years old? It just doesn't seem natural or normal to me. And the fact that this goes on through my high school and uni life, it just never seemed like a normal thing. Not when you're 13 and all you can think about is loving and devoting your entirety to that 17 year old you have your eye on. 

Why was I so desperate? Why was I looking for a partner so bad? Could it be because my feelings were never reciprocated? Well that smells like desperate doesn't it?  Or was it because everyone around me were in love and I wasn't? Wow that stinks of desperate.

Then could it be the jealousy of watching them living all these romantic ideals I've always dreamt of  (fuck chick flicks and korean dramas man) or was it because I envy the fact that someone else was able to accept them for all their imperfections? 

Growing up I always had this one thought that was constantly bugging my mind. If no one could (even) love my physical appearance, how the hell will they love what is within me? How is that even possible? And even if they were able to love my physical appearance, that will be just the beginning of things they need to learn to love about me right? 

Having a lot of skinny best friends didn't help. ( Ok like I know taking only physical appearance into account is kinda shitty but when you're a teenager and you like someone, it all starts with your physical attributions) 

I've never been one to love myself. To accept myself.  Believe me I have tried. Countless times in fact. But how can I when I don't even like who or what I've become? I know a lot of people say that you have to love yourself before anybody can love you. But no one has ever told you how to accept yourself. No one has ever told you how you're supposed to love yourself. They always tell you to just do it because they are able to. SO PESSIMISTIC BUT JUST HEAR ME RANT OKAY I'M IN ONE OF THOSE MOODS. 

But how are you suppose to JUST love yourself when you grow up with people who were never around to teach you what self love is? How are you supposed to love yourself when you have never been properly taught what forms love can be in?

My parents raised us to be independent ever since we were kids. But sometimes I think they wanted us to be too independent. Learn everything by ourselves. Even love. And while my sisters, as pretty as they are, were able to receive such love when they were in school, I, on the other hand had to fight for it. I didn't know how and I didn't know what I was fighting for anyway but I knew I wanted that same affection I always see people giving my sisters.  What's even more amazing though, I was resented for it. It took me years to realize what I did wrong but by then it was already too late.

The only thing I remember of my parents when I was young was how they always only ask how my grades were doing at school. It was the only thing that ever mattered to them. I guess that's another reason why I never really cared to share anything with them.

If it weren't for my fear of god, I would have killed myself a long time ago. If it weren't for the fact that my existence still matters to God, I would have stopped living many years ago.

So tell me, looking for love all these years, is it a matter of desperation that comes out of wanting to have what everybody always have. Or is it due to the lack of love that I haven't been able to learn and receive over the past years?

Either way, time is running out. And I'm beginning to consider death by accident isn't such a bad thing after all.