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I'm not talking about family members or friends, I'm talking about that hot, yet gooey stuff, the passionate lovin' and the holding hands, the heated arguments and the great amount of compromise that covers each and every decision you make, the public displays of affection and the private talks on the telephone late at night, the girlfriendness and the bitchness, the boyfriendness and the jerkness, the good and the bad, the phenomenon known as a relationship.
I'm not sure a lot of people will admit this with me, but in my lifetime, I have had mild to wild crushes on hundreds of people, ranging from celebrities to classmates at school, people I see on the streets and in line queuing for the bus, cartoon characters, friends, friends of friends, friends of family, people at work, people in restaurants and supermarkets, people who I sit next to on the train, people I meet on forums, even a blogger or two...
Now, that doesn't make me sound too good, but I mean, I'm willing to bet good money on the fact that all of you have or have had these crushes on people, and I'm counting the mildest, smallest forms of attraction here. It's in our human nature to bond together, so what's so shameful about admitting it, really? The difference that affects your life unlike other people's is how willing you are to take the extra step to pursue these attractions. I know people who prefer to be alone, people who don't like being alone but are too shy, people who are fine being in a monogamous relationship, people in couples who don't wish to be, some who even venture to have two or more partners at the same time...
Recently, I've come to the conclusion that I may have found somebody I want to take that extra step with. For five or six years now, I've been pushing that idea away, and I haven't really wanted to be with anyone deep in my heart for that long. It's very rare for me. I guess I have trust issues, and issues with not judging people - but I've come to really trust and appreciate this person in particular... I think she's perfect for me. So, here's my opportunity to take that extra step, that chance.
Why not?
Hmmmmmmmmmmm.
A few people I've asked this question to told me that the whole dating scene is a quest for stability. They want the undivided attention and commitment, and they want to feel the longevity of a mutual loyalty towards one another. But I still find myself asking why? Why not be loyal to a friend, instead? What is it about a wife/husband/girlfriend/boyfriend that is different from, say, your best and oldest friends? Are they not as loyal?
To which the people I asked replied by stating that with your friends, they come and go. Whereas with a partner, you will never feel alone and you always know that they're there for you. You're not meant to be that codependent with friends, who have their own lives to lead. I mean, we imagine ourselves spending the later parts of our life with a wife and kids - not a group of five same-sex chums, right? So, I ask them, what about your relatives? Aren't your parents and siblings just as 'constant' as a partner is? Your family are also always there for you. So what makes a wife/husband/girlfriend/boyfriend any different from, say, your sister, your uncle, or your mother?
Someone answered me by saying that they want to feel be proud of 'working on a relationship'. Establishing a relationship with someone means that you both make suggestions, criticisms, sacrifices, and changes in personality and lifestyle, so as to create something impressive to others, and impressive to ourselves - confirmation of the fact that you can do something in this world, live in a house together and have children, contribute to the national consumerism in your purchases, to the real estate and education industries - while continually helping someone in particular better their life and, in turn, have your own life changed for the better by them. A very good argument, I must say, but I must ask, is that not what we do at school and at work? When we work on individual projects, we make suggestions and criticisms to steer a project in the right direction, we work just as hard, to improve business, and to give back to society. A lot of people can say they love their job. A lot of people can say they feel important in the line of work they do. Just like in a relationship. So what makes a wife/husband/girlfriend/boyfriend different from your co-worker or your company then?
One of my friends responded by saying that they want erraticity. They want to feel that thrill of a roller-coaster-like experience when dating another person. They want to fall for someone, and they want to 'feel', mutually, 'in love', to feel that rush, that sense of having no boundaries. Sometimes it's not about commitment and stability, it's about surprises, a pair of earrings on the pillow, an unexpected candlelight dinner at home, a new car parked outside with a bow tied on top of it.
I'll admit it - my best friend and my mother would never surprise me with a car, but a future wife might. I cannot think of a logical explanation for why this 'rush' is not really why we go into relationships, other than pointing out the reality that predictability often trumps unpredictability in this world. Those tacky surprises are only seen in romantic comedies and sitcoms and unrealistic. A majority of couples that exist around us are definitely not that exciting - teenage couples just go to the movies and fuck, middle-aged couples just have dinner dates and then they might fuck afterward, and the elderly, well, they just... read the newspaper.
Sure, she may be cute, but why not just get a dog?
He certainly is very, very smart, but why aren't you making a move on your professor?
She 'gets' you, you say? Get a shrink, who can psychoanalyze and understand you better than any girl will.
Yeah, yeah, he's really funny indeed - but, are you saying I'm not funny?
These reasons are superficial, all of the ones I've listed so far. Love is something felt, and not thought about. It's hard to explain why people bother with relationships.
One of my friends suggested that it was animal instinct, an uncontrollable compulsion that ultimately is meant to provide you with a mate with whom you can reproduce and propagate your genes with. Can you imagine using that as your answer when people ask you what makes your partner so great?
"Because I want my genetic material to be passed down to the next generation."
Eighteen years and seven months ago, I was born in Hong Kong. My aunt accompanied my mother back to my grandparent's apartment, the 4th flat on the 7th floor. Our family has had 704 for over forty years. That place is not just home to them, but is home to all eight of their daughters too. After my parents got divorced, it became my home.
Somewhere along the way, I had the opportunity, or experience, of living with my father, which turned out to be rather awesome. While he was at work, I spent time with his personable wife and his three fun-loving, laid-back daughters. Dad's house (or Dad's houses as he always moved a lot) was home to me too.
Somewhere along the way, I attained, as lame as it sounds, what you could only describe as a 'best friend'. His parents know me, and trust me, his younger brother knows he can call me in times of trouble. I call their humble Filipino family my home as well.
Somewhere along the line, my mother moved out of my grandparents' apartment, in an act of great motherly sacrifice, to give me my own room - her room - as I was finally becoming a very demanding teenage boy. I've stayed at the place she now owns, and I also call it one of my homes.
Although I had all of these places for my choosing, the one place I always went back to at the end of the night, the home I yearned for when I had other obligations throughout the night, was always my grandparents' apartment. The sense of familiarity and familial attachment, I feel, was mutual. My grandparents wanted me at their place every night as well.
In the weeks leading up to my departure from Hong Kong, I could feel a general sense of internal struggle and hardship every time I was around them. I was working a bartending job too, that often meant I had to leave before lunch time and not return until late in the night. I barely even spoke to them for eighty percent of the summer holiday.
In the final two weeks I was in Hong Kong, I was often waiting for the moment when I would start crying like a baby, missing everything, wanting to stay, suddenly hating the idea of coming to England. I guess I built it up too much in my head that I had tired the emotions out. I remember I cried about leaving my mother's side, and as I sit here typing this, I actually cry. All the emotions that I had when I was alone in my room as I was still going to high school all come back to me the minute I think about it. I cried about my dad. I cried about leaving my 4-year-old cousin. I cried about leaving my job. I cried about leaving my best friend.
But when it finally came to the moment I had to take one last look at my room in 704, I didn't cry at all. I had already shared my final conversations with all of classmates, all of my friends, all of my coworkers, and pretty much all of my family.
And then as I was heading out the door, my grandparents were standing there in the corridor, waiting to send me off. And I could see the bittersweetness that rested in their eyes. I'm crying at the moment, because the love I get from them is so surreal to me, it's so incredible, it's so unbelievable. You would typically think there was a generation gap, and quite frankly there is, and we did not share anything much in terms of conversation or material gifts, but the one thing we did share was that apartment, and our time living together.
In the thirteen weeks I was having my summer break, I had not wept at all. But it was in that moment when my grandmother looked at me with teary eyes, telling me to study hard, make sure to eat healthy, and most important of all, be good, I finally found what what would strike my heart. My grandfather, at the door, told me to put in my best effort at university, and also, to be good.
The simplest lessons you learn in life are the least eloquently expressed, but are said by the wisest people. The words they share are like dying words to me, and it's so sad to think of it like that, but that's the truth. Both are over seventy years old, both have medical issues of their own.
And to hear them say things like that really touches my heart in a uniquely confusing way.
I took the elevator down from the 7th floor.
I put my luggage in the boot of the car and then got in.
I opened the window, and stuck my head out the window to get my last look at them. I waved goodbye until the car went round the bend and a building blocked them from view.
Today, I just received a box with Christmas presents from my 1st aunt, 4th aunt, 8th aunt, and my mother. I was grateful for the gifts, and I loved seeing my mother's handwriting on the cards explaining what everything was and who it was from.
At the bottom of the box, I found a jumper and a card next to it, and it turns out it was from my grandmother. She wrote 'Merry Christmas' in Chinese, and her traditional style of calligraphy was always so distinctive, and it made me picture her writing the card. That's what triggered the idea to talk about this here... I miss my home, so much. I miss my grandparents so much. I can talk to my parents and my friends whenever I want, but I can't talk to them because they don't know how, and it drives me crazy...
Ohh... let me get myself together...
Ahem. Well, my aunts are going to set up a webcam chat thing with them on Christmas Day, so I'll see my beloved grandparents then. It's just been a very hectic final week of university, and I reckon I'm a little stressed out. Good thing I get to sleep tonight without worrying about handing in any assignments.
Crying's good for the soul, it really is. When was the last time you cried?
By the way, I've decided to change all the titles of my blog posts here to begin with "On ________". Oftentimes, I'm not quite sure what to call my entries, and I feel that with this new style of appellation, this new idiosyncrasy, it will help me in the art of naming my blog posts.
Today, I want to talk about couples, and not being in a couple, but being around them. Recently, I've become friends with a couple, and I really like how I can just mosey into the girl's room and watch a movie with the two of them. I like having breakfast with them every morning, and just hanging out with them if I don't want to stay in my room by myself.
I like being friends with both individuals of a couple, and over the years, this has often happened. It's nice to hang out with them as friends, to see their sweetness that they probably wouldn't display in front of others, to see how they feed off of each other's humor, their compatibility that you wouldn't have known had you not seen it working in front of your eyes, their synchronicity, their unity, is admirable, and pleasant to observe.
Obviously, I'm not allowed to hang around when they're gettin' busy, or when they're sharing intimate, personal information with one another. But to their command, I walk out of that room without feeling expelled, without feeling banished - it's okay, because I know it's between them. Just like I would expect them to feel if I was with someone.
Hello everybody out there, how are you?
There are prospects for an additional blog to my current two, and I'm really excited to tell you about it right here, right now! :D
If you're not already aware, I have moved to Canterbury, England, to study anthropology, after having lived in Hong Kong for all my life. Anthropology, put simply, is the study of humanity, in terms of its origins, and the social relationships amongst human beings. It's a very interesting course, and encompasses elements of many other subjects such as history, geography, sociology, evolutionary biology, economic and political organization, linguistics, kinship, primatology, law, religion, archaeology, and many more.
For a portion of my course, I am required to keep an anthropological diary to aid me in my anthropological studies. This means that every week, I must produce some sort of updated material on what I have learned in my courses, etc...
I was thinking that perhaps I could start a blog that was strictly to do with anthropology. This would really boost my mark up because I know that a lot of people in my course aren't accustomed to keeping anything blog-like in nature regularly. I hope to find something interesting about different cultures every week, and hopefully, by showing you something about a different social group every week, we will all gain something from this exchange. (I am also going to be pressurizing myself even more to work harder at my blogging everyday. I need the pressure. Pressure, pressure, pressure, come to Papa~)
(That was weird.)
I must thank one person before I start checking out all of your fantastic blogs, though, and that person is Argentum Vulgaris, who has had a part in inspiring me to actually do this with his blog, Tomus Arcanum. Every time I go on that blog, I always find something there about various societies and cultures, especially when I dig deep into his archives - he also has Astray in a Latin World, Paused in Peru, and Beyond Bolivia - great blogs strictly on South American people, all of which I also am inspired by.
I think that's enough for now. I will hopefully release my new blog within the next two weeks. There will be stuff on the Neanderthals, orangutans and gorillas, gruesome diseases and cancers, commonalities amongst all human beings (there aren't that many!), genetic drift, different spiritual beliefs that stretch from the Australian Aboriginals, through the dozens of different Indian faiths, to the Congolese communities that believe in witchcraft and spirits of nature.
It's going to be great!
University is a whole mess of food, drugs, music, sex, relationships, friends and strangers, laughter and tears, kissing and drinking, dancing and groping, randomness, and a little four-letter word, namely Love. It happens rapidly, it happens to just about anyone, it happens everywhere we go, especially in university where all of us have left our homes and our respective high schools, to have a great time, to take hold of the responsibility of taking care of ourselves, and to find what makes us happy - whether it's in terms of our academic interests, the clubs and activities we have a desire to participate in, the careers we have dreamed of all our lives and finally are able to pursue, and of course, the chance to discover like-minded people in an environment that's specifically designed and used for an integrated timetable of education, employment and entertainment, together amongst a diverse deluge of young, passionate, and fun-loving people, from around the world.
Finding like-minded people can be an intricate process for a lot of people. Some people have no problem falling into the arms of another upon meeting them, the fantasy story of love at first sight compels them to simply let loose, float about, and allow the tide of love and life to wash them away wherever the current may bring them.
But for me, it is something of difficulty. It takes a lot of time for me to learn to trust someone. It takes some time for me to get used to people before I can begin to like them. I haven't found someone here after two weeks, but it seems like almost everybody else has paired up already, leaving me the sole soldier on the peripheries of the social circles. I know this is because I am simply not daring enough to take the initiative, to ask people for their names, numbers and perhaps a bit of background.
I wonder all the time, why this has always been the case - why I am not interested in others at first, and I've realized that it is because I like getting the attention first. It makes me self-centered, an attention-seeking kind of guy, and it sort of sucks because I'll never find anyone to be with as long as I retain this problematic attitude.
But I want to be given a chance to be in a relationship with somebody. It has been so long since I have been, and I wonder if it has changed. I love the feeling of devotion, and the pride in being somebody's #1, in being loyal, in being one of a pair, in being ______ and Michael together.
I hate seeing everybody getting Facebook-married, I hate seeing them hold hands, I hate hearing them have sex at night, I hate feeling intrusive and out of place when I'm in the company of a couple.
It's going to take some time for me to readjust my position in social interactions, but I've got to make myself a more approachable and gutsy man before I can be deemed dateable. I've got to stop being so self-involved, if I ever am going to get that chance of experiencing falling in love with someone successfully again.
Wow, it's been eleven days since I last blogged. I think I'm going to use my day off today to prepare some more blog posts to be published throughout next week. I've been really thoughtful lately, but just hate that I haven't expressed those thoughts on Blogger.
So, since I last spoke to you all, I was heading off to Singapore. My mother wanted to see an Air Supply concert, and she had correctly assumed that I would be the only one who would agree to go with her all that way just to see a show. Singapore was, to me, a good place to visit. They had nice food, and a beautiful combination of sand and sea called Santosa beach. It seemed like a very pleasant place to live. And everywhere, I could see people who enjoyed living there, the expression on their faces revealing a feeling a lot like mine in how I love residing in Hong Kong.
We were only there for four days and three nights, and my mother and I had both taken three days off work just to be there. On the first night, my mother permitted me to go out clubbing and bar-hopping. The nightlife in Singapore was fantastic. It's a place called Clarke Quay, and it consists of a whole line of restaurants, bars, clubs and pubs, that line the banks of a river. It seemed a lot cleaner than Hong Kong's partying districts, and a lot less crowded, even though there was still a lot of people.
After scouting the area for an hour or so, asking various bouncers for the entrance fees and the availability of an open bar, I routinely bought some breath mints from 7-11, and paid twenty Singaporean dollars to enter a nightclub called Zirca. It was quiet at around 9pm, but I waited 'til the party started, as it usually does on a Thursday night. Three young-looking people seated a table seemed sociable and welcoming, so I joined them. We ended up dancing to pretty much the same boring tunes they play in Hong Kong. Singaporeans certainly have a lot of energy on the dancefloor, but by 2am, I just couldn't keep up with them, I wasn't feeling up for it, the alcohol started making me miss home, and so I went back to the place where my mother and I were staying in.
When I got home, my mother bade me go to the bedroom. I went, and as soon as I stepped in, she gave me a big, heartful hug, and said in Chinese, "You worried me to death!"
My mother has a keener interest in health and safety than I do. She always hears stories of the malicious things people do in different places. There are innocent, Indonesian girls that get raped in the middle of the night when they're alone. There are love interests who you think you can trust, who may tell you they have nothing wrong with them, but in actual fact, have a sexually transmitted disease like AIDS. And then there are young guys like me, thirsty for alcohol, who might get served a drink that contains some sort of sedative, so that the strangers behind the bar may carry me off into a world of crime, and teach me how to deal drugs illegally (and God knows what else), and transform me into a monster that will also, sneakily and heavily, sedate other young boys for generations to come, to keep the future of drug trade alive.
While I was having fun in Singapore's clubbing district, my mother was alone, creating an untrue image, of which I will never know the exact nature of, in her mind, of what might have happened to me, in the most unfortunate sense. I actually regretted going out that night, and I did not go out for the next two nights we were there, because of what transpired on the first night. I felt sorry to her, for worrying her. It's understandable because she hardly approves of me going out at all, even here in Hong Kong. She doesn't know that Singaporeans are friendlier than Hongkongers. She has no idea that Singapore and Hong Kong have two of the lowest crime rates in the world, Singapore's being even less than Hong Kong's. And, she doesn't know just how often I go out.
It's logical for her to worry, with what she doesn't know.
I have no doubt that I will return to Singapore some day, to properly experience the nightlife there without anybody worrying me. I guess when you go on holiday with your mother to a foreign country, some things will never change and you still can't go out drinking, whether you're finally 18 years old or not, because it worries her. It always will.
Saturday, 30th May, 2009 - I turned 18.
It's funny how I receive phones and iPods, books and DVD's, ties and T-shirts, game consoles, laptops and electric guitars for my birthdays and for Christmas. It's funny how my father treats me to $84 oysters, and how my mother has bought me a fortune worth of food over the years. It's funny how I don't have to pay my aunts any money when playing mahjong, even though I should at times when I play abysmally. It's funny how my uncles offer me a glass of wine, or a can of beer, at family reunions. And it's funny how my cousins always want me to join them in playing Halo or football.
Thus are the benefits of being young.
I love eating in excessive amounts without getting fat, and I love sleeping in on Saturday mornings without many commitments to attend to. I always feel so energetic, yet so relaxed. I want to learn things in an unbelievable number of fields. I have such a passion for everything, and I care so deeply about the people around me. I love you guys hard. And you guys are the best. Thus are the benefits of having a young mind, and of having a big, young heart.
Eighteen years in Hong Kong, and eighteen years of being alive, has had its amount of turmoil, but through it all, I have sustained an honest relationship with my mother, a friendship with my father, and have had a lot of good times with the rest of my family, and proud of that, I am. I have met a lot of different people along the way. I've shaken their hands, and I've learned their names, and I've found common, as well as disparate, ground with all of them. I may have held their hair back as they regurgitated their alcohol, I may have felt envious of their looks, or their fortune, or their love lives, and I may have seen something malicious within a select few of them, but altogether, the motto that applies here is "what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger".
What an experience it all has been. I remember having lunch near those tennis courts, and sunbathing in the sun, and running around on grass and astroturf, with my friends. I remember all the late-night talks on the phone and online, the many heart-to-heart conversations shared after dinners. I remember the fun we had in the rain, and in the ocean, on islands, and on boats, and on suspension from school. I remember the bus rides together, as well as the roller coaster rides, and dancing in the clubs, which always was a different sort of ride altogether. I remember all of your comments on my blogs, I remember your comments on my life, I remember your comments on my naturally modelesque walk, my 'nice arms', my erratic accent, my 'thing' where I say I know what you're talking about when I actually don't, my humor (or lack thereof), your comments on my weirdness, my selfishness, my honesty, and my infamous two moles - I really remember it all.
It has been eventful.
But when we move on, all activity aside, what I will miss the most are your memorable faces and your distinct voices, your ageless smiles and your recognizable laughter, your fascinating stories, your ever-changing feelings and your thought-provoking philosophies.
I hope the comedy and the conversation can both continue to exist in my adult life, as we move on together as friends and family. I say, let's make that effort, 'cause it would be a shame to throw away the bonds that we have made. It's what I have wished for my birthday.
And so to end, my lovely people, I'm quite impressed with myself.
It's incredible. I would think a person like me would have given up along the way by now.
But, it's really all happening.
I'm 18.
And I'm going to uni.
:)
Everybody around me knows that whether or not I'm funny on any particular day, at any particular moment, depends on my mood there and then. Everyone knows I'm only talkative when I feel like it, everyone knows I'll only lend a helping hand when I think life is great.
Why do I have these rapid mood swings? How is it possible for me to be fucking ecstatic one day, and drastically miserable the next day, hopelessly gawking at a person I admire in one hour, and viewing him as a total douche the next hour, and to be completely angry at someone one minute, and totally forgiving the next?
But you know, I would never give up my personality. People think it's interesting, and I think it entertains me too. It just gets a tad bit on my nerves sometimes. As well as those of others.
I just found out someone I knew blogged as well. She's quite close to me, and I found out that in her blogs (as I was snooping around through the archives), she mentions the search for love, and the battle against loneliness, predominantly.
My search for Somebody has always been there in my heart. But my head tells me to just wait.
Just wait... wait for that Special Someone Out There For Me.
I just wish I could know now where that person is. I wish I could learn when and where I will meet him or her. I want to know how much longer I freakin' need to wait.
Exams are coming up and I need to study hard, with as few distractions as possible. Of course, these diversions aren't limited to blogging, but by taking a break from blogger, I know it'll contribute a little to my focusing on my revision.
I feel quite confident about what I will do in the next month. I'm never one that worries too much about that sort of thing.
The only thing that will really distract me is thinking about my relationships with people. All I've got to do is keep that to a minimum, push those thoughts aside until high school really is over.
I can't wait to leave Hong Kong, but to be honest, I want these last few months to drag out for as long as possible. I am really going to miss the food, and the beaches here, but most important of all, the people.
This is exactly the kind of thing that will distract me for hours.
So, I'm going to end this post here, shut down my computer, take out my maths book, and revise.
I'll be back for a little while everyday, but only for a little while. See you on May 19th or 20th and pray that I get what I deserve. (Don't wish me luck. When the examination paper asks me to explain Faraday's law of induction, I don't want to rely on luck, because I'm not that lucky.)
Bye, friends. Talk to you next time.
I realize I haven't been visiting anybody's blogs for two weeks now. I'll get back to it soon, I just don't have much of a mood these days. I'm really bored, and I wish I had more money to go out but it's costly. This holiday sucks...
When other people tell me they're bored, I tell them a story, ask them if they want to go see a movie, have dinner, or go to the library with me. I talk to them for hours on the phone, perhaps, and I manage to entertain them until they find something to occupy themselves with finally, or until they're tired and want to go to sleep.
The sad thing is that I don't get any satisfaction out of it. I've served my 'duty' as friend or family, but I guess making another person happy just isn't enough to make me happy.
I'm not altruistic at all. I'm a big egoist, and a big egotist, and I'm a selfish brat. What's an egomaniac to do when society demands politeness, sincerity and generosity from him?
He is to say, and do, all the right things for others. He is to tell others what they want to hear to reassure them, comfort them, to put across a message of 'someone really cares about you.' He is to tell others, based on his own knowledge and experience, what he thinks others can do to improve their lives, or their relationships with others, by tactfully injecting confidence, courage, and the like, into their heads. He is to ask others, for favors or the occasional question, to feed their egos, and make them feel knowledgeable, wanted and needed. He is to help others accomplish their dreams, and perform their errands, in order to make their lives go by more efficiently, happily, or in a more worthwhile way.
All of this is, of course, if the guy wants to be accepted within his community despite being egocentric.
Yes, I'm bored. I really want to go somewhere, but I don't want to ask for other people's money, and I don't want to have to ask for other people's time and company.
Oh, well. Maybe I'll go paint a self-portrait or write my autobiography or something... The ego is a funny thing, ain't it?
Here's a poem I wrote three years ago. Now that I've grown up a bit and have studied a fair bit of poetry at school and in my own time, I now know that the masterpieces I thought I had written were, in actual fact, crap. This is because I always had this problem of thinking everything had to rhyme. But anyway, I wrote this one after I got rejected by someone I had unrealistic feelings for. Oh, stupid teenage angst...
------------------------------------------------------------
You're the one I saw.
You're the one I met.
You're the one I laughed at.
You're the one I kept.
You're the one I talked to.
You're the one I laughed with.
You're the one I sat next to.
You're the one I ate with.
You're the one I walked beside.
You're the one I played with.
You're the one I really liked. You're the one I studied with.
You're the one I read to. You're the one I wrote to.
You're the one I trusted.
You're the one I listened to.
You're the one I texted.
You're the one I cared about.
You're the one I needed.
You're the one I wanted
You're the one I fell for.
And you're the one I loved.
You're the one that made me happy.
You're the one that made me believe. You're the one that made me excited.
You're the one that made me leap.
You're the one that made me take a risk. You're the one that made me confess.
You're the one that made me regretful. You're the one that left me clueless.
You're the one that made me sorry.
You're the one that made me sad.
You're the one that made me lonely.
You're the one that made me mad.
You're the one that made me vengeful.
You're the one that made me lonely.
You're the one that gave me doubts in my mind
if you were the one and only.
You're the one that saw right through me.
You're the one that just noticed. You're the one that heard about me.
You're the one that just got pissed.
You're the one that no longer talked to me.
You're the one that blocked me out.
You're the one that pretended to laugh
while I cried my sorry heart out.
You're the one that walked away.
And you're the one that stopped calling.
You're the one that stopped talking.
You're the one that stopped trying.
Now, you're the one that I see right through.
Now, you're the one that I'm going to leave.
Now, you're the one that I don't care for.
and you're the one that I don't believe.
Now, you're the one that I don't want.
Now, you're the one that I won't laugh with.
Now, you're the one that I won't listen to.
Now, you're the one that I won't put up with.
Now, you're the one that I won't care about. Now, you're the one that I don't care for.
Now, you're the one that I'm so sick of.
Now, you're the one that I must ignore.
I'm tired of stressing out every night
after each silence and every fight.
I'm sick of you being The One in all of the above.
It's over, I give up, you've lost my love.
You may have heard this quotation before. Albert Einstein once said, "Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance you must keep moving." I think it's sage advice, one of the best ones I've ever heard in my life.
I think about the people around me, in my school, outside of school, at home, in the UK, the US, Canada, Australia and the Philippines. It seems like everybody carries some grudge, some trauma, some burden. It's sad because all of this resentment, sadness and worry simply remain there unceasingly. People carry with them their deep, dark secrets for months, years and entire lifetimes. I find it interesting how every single little thing that you do can change the final outcome of your life. There are an infinite number of places I could be tomorrow, several billion people in this world I could meet this year, an insurmountable number of ways I could die at any point.
What astounds me is how one hug, from one person, at one particular time, in one specific place, can make you feel more loved than you ever have. I find it strange how one petty crime can cause your expulsion from school, how one careless mistake can land you in a juvenile prison, how one relationship with a boy can cause a girl several months of great distress, how one name can change your entire social life, how one insignificant argument can escalate to a divorce, how one book can change your life perspective, how one person's words can motivate you, and how one life well-lived can change millions of others. In a split second, your life could end if it had not been for one special circumstance, or one other person, or if it had been a second later. Life is absolutely crazy.
But you pick yourself up after heartbreak, after tragedy, after all the fretting. You shed your embarrassment, your anguish, your melancholy, and you focus on what you can do to turn things around, implement change, and make things better.
'Life is too short to be lived miserably' is the perfect quotation to epitomize this message. You can't wait for the clouds to subside, you can't expect too much from the Sun. If you want a brighter life, one that's more balanced, then that's your right and your responsibility. Keep your chin up and smile.
It's been a very, very long year, to say the least. This is the first time I'm doing one of these reflections, so I hope it helps in bringing me closure, so that the new year can be approached with another year of life experience to support me. How should I format this?... Hmm... Oh, I know! I'll just make a list of all the major events and talk a bit about each of them. (The last one is the most relevant to you guys. :D)
(Jun) Father got divorced again: He tells me my stepmother cheated on him with another man. Not just any man. A 63-year-old man. And I believe him, but I think that if Dominique and their other two girls appear to be fine, then my stepmother and the old guy are fine. Why does my father have to exaggerate everything, I don't know. I agree with him and sympathize for him to an extent, but the fact is: he was the less committed one. I'm a lot like him to be honest... especially in relationships. Over-confident when we really don't have a damn clue. I think I'm working at it. I don't see that in him. All in all, he's an ex-husband twice for good reason.
(Jul) Stopped talking to my dad: Nobody else will understand my perspective of things, that's a given. But let me just tell you: if there's anybody I hate more, it's people that are narrow-minded, unforgiving, who fail to look at things in other people's perspective, who don't even try for a second to walk in another person's shoes. That is all I ever do with my life, every, single, fucking, second, of, every, single, fucking, day. My father is radically different in this aspect and I hate the way he is so arrogant about everything. I look at him and I see the smoking, the drinking, the two divorces, the negligence toward his three other children, the prostitutes in Shenzhen, the lousy dead-end job of a private investigator, his knucklehead friends, especially her (who he's exploiting at the moment), the pervy uncle, the grandmother who always fed him what he wanted, the spoiled brat inside of him that never grew up from over thirty years ago, and at the time, before July, I didn't give a shit about any of that. And it's a testament to how much I know about him, the dreadful, honest truth about him. What does he know about me? Nothing.
Next year, all he will know is that I went to holiday this winter, because he needs to give my mother permission to bring me out of Hong Kong. He will also know which country I'm going to next year for university, only because my mother will tell him. When I grow up, he will know what I do for a living, but only vaguely, only a little bit, only because my mother will tell him. That is all he will know because he never cared to get to know me or the details of my personal and academic life, that as a student and a teenager, are very, very, very important to me.
I am not going to be all melodramatic and say I won't visit his deathbed, go to his funeral or visit his grave. But when those occasions come to pass, all father-and-son sentiments will be lost. There's no space available for me to forgive. My mind does not have the capacity to and my heart is not functioned to forgive a father who does not care to hear about his son's 'lifeless' day. I have been through more than any of my family really knows. This isn't a contest to see who's been through the most, but he should stop boasting and pretending to know everything that I don't. Piece of shit father.
(Jul) The last outing I had with Dad: I went to the beach I grew up on with my father, my grandmother, my uncle, my cousin, my two stepsisters (all on my dad's side, of course) and one of their friends. We had this killer mashed potatoes with tuna and raisins that serves as one of my grandmother's signature dishes. Filipinos know how to make the best comfort food in Asia... We were at the infamous Pui O beach, the word Pui (貝), meaning 'shellfish'. Buried under the sand are hundreds of clams. I had a fun time swimming with my stepsisters. I had a fun time barbecuing with my dad like we used to when I was a kid. When I was out there in the ocean, I dived down and managed to find a clam the size of my hand (around 15cm in diameter). My dad soaked it in beer to wash out the sand and placed it on the fire. I ate it and let me tell you, big doesn't necessarily mean tasty. ;)
It was a good trip, a good final trip before I vowed to ignore him and avoid him at all costs. Why he had to ruin that week is beyond me. His impatience got the better of him and will serve him well.
(Feb) Fell in love for five days: I fell so deep and so fast. I was so darn lonely, to the point where I just didn't care about anything else. They were like another family, to add on to my list containing six or seven other families. I took a leap there, and they caught me, they let me know that life was okay, is okay and will always be okay. Sisters, brothers, father and uncle. Oh, Michael, you're so pathetic.
'Cause the shame in these five days is that they came all the way from Oman. They were only here for a week but I was totally immersed into their group of friends. I will always have a special place in my heart for them but I think that's very useless now. It was there for five days, and now it's gone.
(Dec) Came to a decision: I have found a solution to the problem at school I've been having for a year now. It's time for a change and the new year will bring on a good one. It's been a long, treacherous journey with these people. They've pissed me off more times than I can count and I'm sure I have gotten on their nerve many times as well. I will never forget any of the good times, but hey, there weren't that many to begin with, and they weren't that good at all.
(May) Birthday: My birthday always happens when other things are happening. It was quite a lot of fun going out that night after the Graduation Ball, but again, I drank alone, I danced alone, I went home alone. Why is it so hard to find somebody? Why is it that the four of them stuck together? Why is it that they were a couple? Why do they go home? Where does it ever leave me?
No, that's not the right way to think about it. It's precisely about me on my birthday if I am willing to believe it to be. Besides, I have made a decision to stop caring about them. I had fun on my birthday, and it was a considerably good one when compared to my birthdays in previous years. I won't forget it and next year will be even better.
(Sep) Mid-Autumn Festival: I've never been to the beach on that night. I had no idea that loads of people actually did that. It was good, though. And I got the chance to see her, so it was nice. The moon created this mysteriousness amongst us. I wonder if we would ever find ourselves in that same spot again.
God, why do I always think I'm alone? People will always tell me, no, you're not alone, but heyheyhey. I really am by the end of the night. I think I have to make peace with the fact that I will be more alone in the next few months. Yikes.
(July) Family trip to Toronto: Now, this was a really good time. A time that I pretty much forgot about until I looked at a calender to remind myself about what I was doing in those blank two weeks in my head. I went to Toronto with my whole family (save my mother and my aunt). We went to eat crazy-good steak, and to see all the attractions that I could now look at in another, more mature, light. I love Toronto. I will live there at some point in my life. And although I can't say I love time with my family, at least they never, ever make me feel alone.
(Jun) Last week of school: I had to stage manage a concert, as well as perform in a lead role of the senior play. To be honest, I stage managed better the previous time. This time, I was breaking down, I didn't care about these people and I couldn't do my job because I let these people get to me. Not all of them were bad. I don't want to say it goes to show how tired I've gotten of them. I think it's just me again. Pathetic, emotional me.
For the school play, these people were cool. Actors are nice people. Never really bothered me much. Oh, how could I forget about him though. He was a pain up my ass. Oh, but at least the lot of them were sitting in the audience, far, far away. The show went quite well and everybody clapped for Andrew, Bea and Chas. I want to do more professional stuff, though. The stuff I had in my old school, as opposed to this mini-production. Oh, the life I could've led... It's my own fault for bringing that upon myself.
(Aug) Cheung Chau: Here in Hong Kong (I start an awful lot of my paragraphs like this, don't I?), during the holidays, a lot of young people like to rent a house on one of the outlying islands for a few days to enjoy life outside the city for a change. We can go biking, go to the beach, eat lots of junk food and even bring our laptops, our Playstations and even our electric guitars to the house to just relax and be lazy (or in my social group's case, work and study :P).
This year, five people came to my house thing that I rented. Last year, twelve people came, so I was a little let down. I was happy that the four 'right' people came to accompany me. Especially the couple. Both of them lightened up my time there... It wasn't all smiles, but I was content. However...
(Aug) Loneliest I've ever felt: It was a strange night that night. They were asleep in the room and I didn't want to wake them (well, I did. And I texted them). I stepped outside, went biking for a while, bought a drink at the store at two in the morning, but gosh, the emptiness inside of me felt so strong, it was unbelievable. I sat on the beach, frantically, desperately trying to call everyone I could. Nobody would pick up their phones. I had no computer to go online. I was overwhelmingly sad and it was cold and it was dark and the beach was empty.
The beach is a place I usually go to sit and think about life. Beaches have always been comfortable for me. I find it nice when there is sand in my shoe, caught between my toes. I like the feel of my jeans drenched in seawater. I can have a good night's sleep on the sand, falling asleep and waking up to the sound of the waves. For some reason, that night just did not work for me. I was restless, lonely and miserable. I cried that night very, very hard. It brought back thoughts of my suicidal incident four years ago. It brought back memories of all the pain I ever experienced with either parent, with my friends, with my heart that's fallen in love so many times, so deeply and so wrongly. I just wished that someone was there so badly.
But I was considerate enough not to bother the couple. They had enough on their minds at the time. It came at the cost. How big of a cost am I, really?
(Oct) Started blogging: I didn't believe that blogging was therapeutic. I didn't think that I could entertain people, or that I could touch people's hearts with my writing. I just thought it was a leisure activity, where angry, depressed and/or talkative people would bail their hearts out and talk about the most insignificant things. I don't know why I felt this way, because normally, I'm usually a person that's very open to new experiences. But, in a rush of emotion one night, just because I was bored, I created Do you hate it too? and wow, I had no idea that people from the States, from Brazil, from the UK, from everywhere, could be so welcoming, and could give a damn about what I had to say.
I used to be mightily unhappy around my friends and family. They would piss me off to no ends. But if there's something I must thank them for, it's for doing exactly that. Driving the living Hell out of me with their annoyances so that I could start my blog and enter a whole new realm of socialization. I cannot express how grateful I am to all my followers and all the people who have such fantastic, inspirational, equally and differently opinionated blogs for me to read. Blogging is still not therapeutic (in fact, it gets stressful at times trying to come up with topics), but I think I can be confident in saying that it has brightened up my mood and cheered me up after a year that has been so eventful, stressful, troublesome, miserable and lonely. You are all like family, and I cannot wait to grow up, travel the world and meet all of you in person perhaps, visit the places you mention in your blogs, meet the people you talk about in your entries. Blogging is the biggest and the best part of my 2008.
*update: I forgot about the Presidential Elections,the Olympics and other big news. Goes to show how self-centred Iam...*
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