50: hard to heart talk

the words
stuttering out
of this vessel containing every cell of my being
are jumbled, just like
how they are in my head
(scrambled),
as i absentmindedly twirl my fingers
around the tassels of my scarf,
my subconscious obviously trying to untangle
the knots
in my covered hair
and in my guarded heart.

these thoughts
have caused me to be
in shambles. i feel enshackled, so i must
apologise in advance if i bore you to death -- i might just
ramble on about all these things
that i was too afraid to say before;
i need to be cautious,
i remind myself:
the things i say can never ever be unsaid.
but to unfeel the things i have felt
is just as hard to stomach.

and so i have decided
that i have no other choice
but to mouth out what has ruffled my feathers
(not just off-late) --
so that you would understand me better.

do you, now?
or will i forever misunderstand
and forever be misunderstood?

31: Still beats

my Heart is so filled
by thoughts of you that i fear
it would Burst: be still!

---

for a certain teacher i kinda had a crush on during camp.

28: Only sometimes

No, I don't love you
the way I did before. Still,
I miss you sometimes.

Written sometime in mid-April 2012.

23: Sober

when i was 5,
i wanted to be an artist:
i wanted to make beautiful things and figure out
the best way to color a shape
without going beyond the line.

when i was 10,
i wanted to be an astronomer:
i wanted to gaze at the stars in the sky and figure out
exactly
which constellations each of them belong to.

when i was 15,
i wanted to be an engineer:
i wanted to invent awesome things and figure out
how to fix anything
and everything.

when i was 20,
i wanted to be a teacher:
i wanted to inspire people to be better and figure out
ways to capture the attention
of students with different personalities, interests and learning abilities.

but now that i'm this close to being what i wanted to be,
i've learnt that i'm not supposed to
'figure things out'.

all i needed to do is simply say:

"saya yang menurut perintah".


11.54pm

22: It's a Girl/Thing

Silly thing,

Girls can't climb trees
or play with ladybugs
or chase chickens
or arm-wrestle!

Girls must cook things
and do house chores
and be pretty
and just listen!

Silly thing.

12.11am

14: the thought of Death

Today,

i was

reminded that i

might die Tomorrow. i

wonder if i

have truly

Lived.

My teacher friend was discussing about the theme of death in her English class yesterday, and she asked her students to come up with a poem related to it. Me being the sad observer that I am, joined in just for fun... but now that I read this poem again, I do wonder. Hmm.

By the way, in case you were wondering what structure this is, it's a 16-word poem, structured like this:

1 word

2 words

3 words

4 words

3 words

2 words

1 word

13: Driven to sadness

It fell. It slipped out,
hitting the hard floor. Shock sets
in: death in my hands.

I just ruined my external hard drive because of my own carelessness. Just perfect.

12: My Four Seasons

Passion like summer heat,
Faith like spring flowers,
Thoughts like autumn decay,
Heart like winter showers.

I'll be completely honest: I'm pretty heartbroken right now. Returning to my home country has been quite eventful for me. Leaving my 3.5 'student life' years behind, ie. my memories, my loved ones, my independence, my freedom... yeah it's pretty hard. Although I've been enjoying the food and meeting my family and friends, a lot of things have been brewing in my mind... about love, life and everything in between. As soon as I touched down on that plane that night, I realise that I'm back in reality; my bubble has burst, and it's time to shake myself awake.

I have only been here for a few days, but I've felt a variety of emotions of various degrees. Essentially, I feel tired that my thoughts & philosophies are being challenged by the people I trust and cherish - not exactly in constructive/positive ways. I'm getting tired of the put-downs and the general dismissive/condescending attitudes that adults here have...

I've been told that I'm too idealistic about the world -- and this will ultimately lead to my disappointment in myself and society. I've been told that that's simply reality - things can't always turn out the way we hope/expect them to turn out, because that's not how the world works.

I've been told that I need to look good all the time -- I need to wear the right clothes, I need to not get fat/pimples/scars, I need to do my facial routines and makeups, I need to dress nicely even when I'm not going anywhere important/for long; I need to LOOK MY BEST ALL THE TIME. I've been told that this is important in (Malaysian) society, because people decide our worthiness by our appearance, and if you're not thin, you're not in.

I've been told that I don't know how life works, how the real world is, how things really are -- how, essentially, people are. I've been told I'll never 'get it' because of my upbringing, that I can never truly understand, that I've got it easy and I should be grateful and just accept the fact that everyone leads different lifestyles and there's absolutely nothing we can do about it.

I may seem naive for being idealistic, but at least I haven't given up on caring about society because I believe that many 'rotten apples' CAN still change; they've just not been given enough opportunities/support in their lives to improve. At the very least, I still have some faith in people and not judge people simply by my first impression.

I may look ugly for not having the 'ideal' face/body/skin, but at least I know that beauty on the outside is nothing compared to what's on the inside (and that's what I personally treasure more). At the very least, I know that it's cruel to psychologically cause people to feel frustrated and ashamed about the way they naturally look.

I may sound stupid for saying/questioning certain things despite the fact that I've never been able to experience the things that the people I talk about have to experience, but just because I didn't share their (mis)fortunes doesn't mean it's impossible for me to empathise with them, and doesn't mean I'm completely blinded by my own life. At the very least, I am willing to admit that I could be wrong and have a lot to learn.

I am not that brainless, worthless and tactless.

Sorry for the long ramble, but it's amazing how one week at home made me realise why I love&hate everything here. I guess, like Tennessee Williams notes:

'Memory takes a lot of poetic licence. It omits some details; others are exaggerated, according to the emotional value of the articles it touches, for memory is seated predominantly in the heart' - The Glass Menagerie.