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?"

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. 

I'm Just Bad L-

No you're not min. Stop saying that. You're not bad luck.

So many people try to convince me that without even knowing the things that hit me ever since I was young. I'm not even asking them to pity me cos I go through shitty things all the time. Cos I know there are people who go through shittier things than me and don't even complain and come out glorious. I just need you to understand that being me means being bad luck and I would bring no benefit for you except bad luck. I am just waiting for everybody to realize that because once they do they can finally say,

"yeah. you are bad luck. Stop f*cking my life over" and I can atleast feel good that one life is saved from more bad things than they already have.