It hurts when people say mean things. For me especially, it hurts when people say mean things about me or about other people. I have this innate emphatic nature that I guess is nice, but kind of annoying.
I wish I can stop the passing of mean and hurtful things. And I wish I know what to do when I am the one which vicious words are being directed to. I'm so eager on getting along with people that I don't say anything back.
There was an incident almost 10 years ago when my stepsister and I were hit by a motorcycle. As the drama unrolled, she claimed that I was the one who pulled her back - which is why both of us got hit, instead of me alone. If I hadn't done that, she could have crossed safely, supposedly. I guess then everyone assumed I was the dysfunctional one. The truth is, I can't remember what had happened. All I remember was us crossing, then I saw the motorcycle coming, I shouted at my stepsister, then I got hit and rolled on the ground.
When my brother heard my story, he was furious: 'Why didn't you tell everyone that? Why did you let Syira make you look bad?'
In all honesty, it is because I can't remember whether I did pull her back or not. At that moment, my heart was racing, my mind was blank - I could have died if the motorcycle did not swerved away, just because I was petrified.
Was I really supposed to say something? Both of us survived, and no one punished me or look at me differently. It was just words. However, I did changed and become defensive ever since then. Any single wrong thing uttered to my face, and I would rebut back. Which makes me seem annoying.
When people say mean things about you, what are you supposed to do? I guess it depends on the significance of the offense. Most of the time, I ignore and looked away. I let the scars wound and I avoid the person who said it until I was okay with him/her.
What if it was public though? In movies, it seems cool to take a bow and let the jerk look like a fool - but in real life, you have an audience that publicly laughs with the jerk but no one sees the hurt.
Which brings me to another pondering question: Is it okay, is it actually good and preferable to mock something factual about your friend? Like poking the person and saying "OMG, you're fat!" I always thought that in these situations people would usually come to the defense of the victim, but so many times do I witness the audience laughing along and encouraging the mean, spineless bastard.
Why?
Why?
Why do people not care or empathize? Is this fun?
It is a real wonder how bullies just never get old. Among adults, the bullies are even more senseless.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Friday, June 11, 2010
Being Fake
A friend of mine recently told me that I can be fake. On hindsight, that sounds like an awful thing to be. But maybe, the reason that I (and many other people) are being fake are for the benefit of other people.
Have you ever felt furious or so down, but at totally the wrong time? Like when you're at a party celebrating a happy occasion with your friends or something similar that doesn't really allow you to bawl out tears or punch the wall with a hard-hitting fist. What can you do?
1. Go out, and solve that problem. But what if you problem involves a member of the party? Do you start a cat fight right there and then or punch the person's face? Neither is an option for me.
2. Bathroom, to cool down. But you can't really stay in there until the coast is clear, can you? That might mean you have to wait till the party is finished.
3. Suck it up (Being fake). Which means having to ignore the wrath of emotional waves inside of you, put on a smile and try to go along with the party. It won't last long, and usually when it ends, your head cools down to the real reason for your anger or sorrow, and you are more likely to solve the problem without the influence of other little reasons that might make you so mad.
Imagine if I didn't try to hide my emotions: I might just ruin the mood of the party (not to say that I haven't done that before). What if my little frustration was just that: little and insignificant - but it was just hormones that amplified it?
Nevertheless, I guess that's not the only place you can be fake. I guess I can be fake when I talked to people I've met, can't remember and not really in the mood to be talking - but I do anyway. That's really faking it, I guess. But simply ignoring is simply more vicious: the person might feel like he/she had done something to make you turn your nose up when you see him.
Which is a characteristic I feel I see in people who think they are not fake: simply vicious.
The world revolves around how they think and feel at the moment. Maybe they take pride in being honest to themselves, and maybe even the fact that their actions compelled people around them to feel bad. I've met a few vicious people, lived with them and decided that maybe being fake is better. At least I don't give people around me the wrong impression, and there are less people I hurt.
Not that I've never been vicious. There have been those times, and those unknowing victims. But I really am trying to be fake (opposed to vicious) when the clouds turn gray in my life.
Maybe, just maybe, being fake is not such an awful thing.
Have you ever felt furious or so down, but at totally the wrong time? Like when you're at a party celebrating a happy occasion with your friends or something similar that doesn't really allow you to bawl out tears or punch the wall with a hard-hitting fist. What can you do?
1. Go out, and solve that problem. But what if you problem involves a member of the party? Do you start a cat fight right there and then or punch the person's face? Neither is an option for me.
2. Bathroom, to cool down. But you can't really stay in there until the coast is clear, can you? That might mean you have to wait till the party is finished.
3. Suck it up (Being fake). Which means having to ignore the wrath of emotional waves inside of you, put on a smile and try to go along with the party. It won't last long, and usually when it ends, your head cools down to the real reason for your anger or sorrow, and you are more likely to solve the problem without the influence of other little reasons that might make you so mad.
Imagine if I didn't try to hide my emotions: I might just ruin the mood of the party (not to say that I haven't done that before). What if my little frustration was just that: little and insignificant - but it was just hormones that amplified it?
Nevertheless, I guess that's not the only place you can be fake. I guess I can be fake when I talked to people I've met, can't remember and not really in the mood to be talking - but I do anyway. That's really faking it, I guess. But simply ignoring is simply more vicious: the person might feel like he/she had done something to make you turn your nose up when you see him.
Which is a characteristic I feel I see in people who think they are not fake: simply vicious.
The world revolves around how they think and feel at the moment. Maybe they take pride in being honest to themselves, and maybe even the fact that their actions compelled people around them to feel bad. I've met a few vicious people, lived with them and decided that maybe being fake is better. At least I don't give people around me the wrong impression, and there are less people I hurt.
Not that I've never been vicious. There have been those times, and those unknowing victims. But I really am trying to be fake (opposed to vicious) when the clouds turn gray in my life.
Maybe, just maybe, being fake is not such an awful thing.
Friday, June 4, 2010
Sometimes
Sometimes I wonder
If you regret the words you've spoken to me
In the limited time that we get to converse.
Because I do
I regret saying the hurtful things I said
or the lines of defense I put up
against what you have said.
No matter how hard I tried
The times I tell myself to be nicer
or to be more patient
I find myself lashing throats with you
Because of the accusations that you put on me
Or the things you blame I didn't do
Or just in the hopes of calming you -
Hurtful words just arise
And my tears fell
And my healing heart scars again
The cut twice as deep
The mind swirling with a headache:
Why are we on this roller coaster ride, again?
Sometimes I wonder,
something I am almost sure of
but yet scared to say out loud,
sometimes I do wonder
If you enjoy starting these stupid fights
If you're pleased with the screech in my voice rebelling against you
If you're glad that I am showing anger
even when it is inflicted to you.
Because you know what irritates me,
You, of all people would know,
that what you're saying is wounding my heart.
How can you
When all I've ever done in my entire life
is to keep you happy
Your happiness has always been the key goal in my life
So why are you jeopardizing mine?
If you regret the words you've spoken to me
In the limited time that we get to converse.
Because I do
I regret saying the hurtful things I said
or the lines of defense I put up
against what you have said.
No matter how hard I tried
The times I tell myself to be nicer
or to be more patient
I find myself lashing throats with you
Because of the accusations that you put on me
Or the things you blame I didn't do
Or just in the hopes of calming you -
Hurtful words just arise
And my tears fell
And my healing heart scars again
The cut twice as deep
The mind swirling with a headache:
Why are we on this roller coaster ride, again?
Sometimes I wonder,
something I am almost sure of
but yet scared to say out loud,
sometimes I do wonder
If you enjoy starting these stupid fights
If you're pleased with the screech in my voice rebelling against you
If you're glad that I am showing anger
even when it is inflicted to you.
Because you know what irritates me,
You, of all people would know,
that what you're saying is wounding my heart.
How can you
When all I've ever done in my entire life
is to keep you happy
Your happiness has always been the key goal in my life
So why are you jeopardizing mine?
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Learning
The best way to learn in life is to let of your inhibitions and brace yourself for the ride of accepting new knowledge.
Sometimes it is easy, like when you're learning math and you stopped thinking about what the guy next to you is whispering about, but sometimes it is just really, really hard. Like forgetting about the thundering storm of frustration locked in your heart so that the relationship that you built so well can remain strong. Or to forget the searing words that cut deeper and deeper into your emotions. Sometimes it is just going along a monotonous journey, when anything you want to do is stop and turn back.
Just like I am wanting to do now. I just do not want to be in an empty room, trying to study. That is like the two most boring things combined together. It is a recipe for "let-me-go-watch-that-Tudors-episode-on-Netflix" and much much procrastination.
And it is also learning to bear the silence from the emptiness. And learn to appreciate silent beings. And learn the tragedy of their loss.
Sometimes it is easy, like when you're learning math and you stopped thinking about what the guy next to you is whispering about, but sometimes it is just really, really hard. Like forgetting about the thundering storm of frustration locked in your heart so that the relationship that you built so well can remain strong. Or to forget the searing words that cut deeper and deeper into your emotions. Sometimes it is just going along a monotonous journey, when anything you want to do is stop and turn back.
Just like I am wanting to do now. I just do not want to be in an empty room, trying to study. That is like the two most boring things combined together. It is a recipe for "let-me-go-watch-that-Tudors-episode-on-Netflix" and much much procrastination.
And it is also learning to bear the silence from the emptiness. And learn to appreciate silent beings. And learn the tragedy of their loss.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Conversations I'll Never Have
Alright, so maybe 'never' is a bit too harsh.
One of my biggest obstacles in within my family itself: my parents' divorce and post-drama that has continued relentless-ly for almost 20 years has made me distance myself from communicating openly with my family members. The number one reason why there is so much drama is that there is so much misunderstanding in our communication from one side to the other, or that they just won't budge to try and understand.
Hence, the reason why I find it so hard to open up to my own family. My little story would be passed on in different little twisted forms of perception and different judgments - which will result in some sort of negative, unfavorable things-that-I-have-said.
Enough with the negativity.
The point of me writing this is not to place blame (though I sort of did), but to actually admit that I am feeling regretful of the things I have not said. Because I did not open myself up, I missed out on them learning who I am, what I am like, what I like and what I don't. Maybe they know a few things (after all, we are family) but I lack this 'I-miss-my-family-bond', the 'I-am-homesick-feeling', the sisters moments, the sister-brother moments, the little things that makes a family.. family.
I wish I can be openly loving, publicly warm with my family. I wish I don't feel obligated or constrained when I call my sister. I wish I don't put a guard up when I talk to my dad. I wish I don't agree with everything my mum has to say to avoid arguing with her. I wish I can be there for my brother's wedding. I really feel sorry that I'm going to miss it, and worse, my heart is too cowardly to say it to him in a vulnerable sisterly-brother scenario.
Why am I such a coward, one might wonder? Because they talk. I feel like my every movement and word is scrutinized and I can't let my feelings out like that if I know someone will throw a tomato at those fragile emotions. I just can't.
But how I wish, I deeply honestly wish, I could.
One of my biggest obstacles in within my family itself: my parents' divorce and post-drama that has continued relentless-ly for almost 20 years has made me distance myself from communicating openly with my family members. The number one reason why there is so much drama is that there is so much misunderstanding in our communication from one side to the other, or that they just won't budge to try and understand.
Hence, the reason why I find it so hard to open up to my own family. My little story would be passed on in different little twisted forms of perception and different judgments - which will result in some sort of negative, unfavorable things-that-I-have-said.
Enough with the negativity.
The point of me writing this is not to place blame (though I sort of did), but to actually admit that I am feeling regretful of the things I have not said. Because I did not open myself up, I missed out on them learning who I am, what I am like, what I like and what I don't. Maybe they know a few things (after all, we are family) but I lack this 'I-miss-my-family-bond', the 'I-am-homesick-feeling', the sisters moments, the sister-brother moments, the little things that makes a family.. family.
I wish I can be openly loving, publicly warm with my family. I wish I don't feel obligated or constrained when I call my sister. I wish I don't put a guard up when I talk to my dad. I wish I don't agree with everything my mum has to say to avoid arguing with her. I wish I can be there for my brother's wedding. I really feel sorry that I'm going to miss it, and worse, my heart is too cowardly to say it to him in a vulnerable sisterly-brother scenario.
Why am I such a coward, one might wonder? Because they talk. I feel like my every movement and word is scrutinized and I can't let my feelings out like that if I know someone will throw a tomato at those fragile emotions. I just can't.
But how I wish, I deeply honestly wish, I could.
Monday, April 19, 2010
Missed Weddings and such
My first brother got married last December the weekend before my finals week. His wedding was 20 hours away by flight. I couldn't make it, obviously. I had officially missed my first sibling's day of marriage. So I was kind of sad, but it's okay. Everyone understood. After a few days, even I didn't care so much.
But just this weekend, my second brother got engaged. There was a huge family gathering, everyone was celebrating - giving best wishes, celebrating the moment and to the better future. I get that little itch in my heart that tear a little. I wasn't there because I'm here again. It's a little sad, since I know I won't be home for the wedding too. I guess that's okay too, because everyone understood the circumstances.
But there is one circumstance I don't get. The fact that in the midst of all these happiness, there is a side that is painfully grieving: my mum.
Is it that she is sad to leave her children whose responsibilities would be towards someone else - people she calls 'strangers'? Is it that she does not want to associate herself with new people, only the people she thinks she can count on: her children? Or is it that she is disappointed with her children because of our wrongdoings towards her?
The drama ensues again with the same topic, the same heartbreak, the same cause, the same reason, the same people. When will we ever learn? Why is it that in my family, history repeats itself? Maybe it is I who only feels that way. I am a coward at facing the drama. For me, it is nothing more than jumping into a battle of sharp tongues slaying each others self-esteem to its pieces. The winning side gets an ego boost with all its scars, and learns to be more bitter towards the inferior. The losing side will tragically experience grief in a silent heartbreak: the shattered confidence is ignorantly left to the side to be forgotten - its pieces don't get a chance to anew itself.
This is how weddings, engagements, birthdays and happy celebrations end in my family. Congratulations to both my brothers. May your new relationships bring you more peace and rationality to the reality of the world, than paying attention to the stupid things "he said, she said".
But just this weekend, my second brother got engaged. There was a huge family gathering, everyone was celebrating - giving best wishes, celebrating the moment and to the better future. I get that little itch in my heart that tear a little. I wasn't there because I'm here again. It's a little sad, since I know I won't be home for the wedding too. I guess that's okay too, because everyone understood the circumstances.
But there is one circumstance I don't get. The fact that in the midst of all these happiness, there is a side that is painfully grieving: my mum.
Is it that she is sad to leave her children whose responsibilities would be towards someone else - people she calls 'strangers'? Is it that she does not want to associate herself with new people, only the people she thinks she can count on: her children? Or is it that she is disappointed with her children because of our wrongdoings towards her?
The drama ensues again with the same topic, the same heartbreak, the same cause, the same reason, the same people. When will we ever learn? Why is it that in my family, history repeats itself? Maybe it is I who only feels that way. I am a coward at facing the drama. For me, it is nothing more than jumping into a battle of sharp tongues slaying each others self-esteem to its pieces. The winning side gets an ego boost with all its scars, and learns to be more bitter towards the inferior. The losing side will tragically experience grief in a silent heartbreak: the shattered confidence is ignorantly left to the side to be forgotten - its pieces don't get a chance to anew itself.
This is how weddings, engagements, birthdays and happy celebrations end in my family. Congratulations to both my brothers. May your new relationships bring you more peace and rationality to the reality of the world, than paying attention to the stupid things "he said, she said".
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Procrastination
As I was about to start doing another post for today, I realized that it's no longer well.. 'today'. Technically, 1am means a new day right?
Anyways, this made me realize that although I can spent 10 minutes per day doing this, I have to arrange time to do this, and not just as something that I can do before sleeping. Part of this project is being consistent about making time to write, ad not just squeezing out brain juices.
It's all about being consistent everyday, and paying attention when I don't really want to. Like right now, my brain is saying 'sleep sleep sleep' but instead, I'm trying to just keep on writing. Hopefully, my posts gets more interesting after a few more practices with overcoming these distracting obstacles, like the busy-ness of life.
Anyways, I'm really trying to be consistent because of my lack of focus when I play volleyball. According to my friend-and-coach, I am not consistent. Like I can be really good and really horrible - and unpredictability is not a favorable skill. So here's why I'm doing this blog, to learn to be able to concentrate for ten minutes straight on something despite any other distractions of life.
One more day down, yay!
Anyways, this made me realize that although I can spent 10 minutes per day doing this, I have to arrange time to do this, and not just as something that I can do before sleeping. Part of this project is being consistent about making time to write, ad not just squeezing out brain juices.
It's all about being consistent everyday, and paying attention when I don't really want to. Like right now, my brain is saying 'sleep sleep sleep' but instead, I'm trying to just keep on writing. Hopefully, my posts gets more interesting after a few more practices with overcoming these distracting obstacles, like the busy-ness of life.
Anyways, I'm really trying to be consistent because of my lack of focus when I play volleyball. According to my friend-and-coach, I am not consistent. Like I can be really good and really horrible - and unpredictability is not a favorable skill. So here's why I'm doing this blog, to learn to be able to concentrate for ten minutes straight on something despite any other distractions of life.
One more day down, yay!
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