不属于

我未曾感受过幸福的味道。

味道到底如何？

真的就那么幸福吗？

那幸福又是什么？

我不懂。

我希望我有口福，

能体验到一次幸福的味道。

哪怕就那么一次，

我也就心服口服了 。

我担心，

幸福的味道，

一旦体验到了，

会有童话故事里的甜美吗？

会有电视剧里的浪漫吗？

还是就这三个字：

还好啦...

 

我害怕，

幸福的味道，

在固执的我的身上

或许永远都体验不到。

幸福的味道，

你应该不属于我的吧...

Can't

Home is not the way it used to be anymore. 

Three years ago, dating back to the days in Wesley, I would catch myself mentally counting down the seconds until the clock on the wall strikes 3.50. On the dot, I would make a beeline for the classroom door and, with a spring in my steps, skip out of the gates boisterously because just the thought of going home exhilarated me, in every way possible. Despite the complications that were going through at home then, it did not bother me as much, if not just made me long for home even more, long for the familiar faces - mommy, daddy. I was a happier child.

But how is it possible that, three years later, home is ironically the last place I want to be? It's only been the second day of Chinese New Year and already I crave to be back within the boundaries of KTJ, where I am always surrounded with so many people, such good company. Today, things at home have started to become rather normal again. But normal is really just so different now. Those problems have probably never changed, but I have. I've changed. I've grown. I'm no longer as happy as I was before.

As of this moment, I wish I was not alone, the mere presence of someone next to me now is all I need, even a phone call will do to fill these empty molecules within these four walls.

If sadness is a sign of the passing of time, I don't want to grow up.
I want mommy and daddy back, reunited. 
I want my innocence back.
Give me my happiness back...

 

"oh darling don't you ever grow up, don't you ever grow up, it could stay this simple..."

But it can't.

14.02

If only classes in school revolved solely around English. For the beauty of language never ceases to amaze me.

valentine
14.02

It does not make sense...

Sparks fly wen you're around,
But with you here I'm safe and sound.
A gentle rub gives a forceful friction,
Triggers you until ignition.

It never made sense...

Fire.
I see burning fire in your eyes:
Passion. Possession. Determination.
It fears me to see you fearless,
Hence like an ice I conceal.

But it has to make sense...

I crave for the fire in you to be the fire in me,
So let me conceal no more:
Only fire can thaw a frozen heart,
And you are the key to my door.

You are the fire that's burning,
Like an ice I'm pleading,
"Be my Valentine darling,"
For you are worth my melting.

And it starts to make sense... 

Change

I was tired and sad, thinking that the 'sad' phase had chosen to hit me at this age. But really, the more movies I watch, the more things I hear tell me that whatever I'm going through at this phase - my family, me - it is nothing in comparison. Nada. Nil. Nothing. With the happenings of my life each day, I should be the happiest girl in the world right now. Some are in awe, others long to be in my shoes. Me? I was merely blinded by the tremendous, obese, revolting word of 'perfection'.

I was too blind to see the pain behind his trademark smile and the fear behind her burning eyes; I was too blind to see their worried faces and their acts of concern; I was too blind to see the reflection in my mirror and too deaf to hear the cries in my heart - what more do you want? But as of this moment I think, I hope, I pray I'm starting to see the light.

Though words are beautiful, sometimes they are better off left unsaid, unspoken. To me, the absence of words mean more sometimes. But at other times, the presence of words gives assurance too. Such is life, I guess. One can never have the best of both worlds, but we sure can have one world at a time. In fact, with two worlds on our plate, just how much can we savor it, and just how happy can we be? But with one world at a time, we tend to make every passing moment count for something, for we learn that they may not be here for long in our lives... And this is what I'm trying to learn.

Appreciate
珍惜

Simple words that take a lifetime for some of us to understand, and I was one of them. But before I thought I had hit rock-bottom, I was the one who understood those words so truly.

"What happened to that happy you? Where is she?"
I changed then. I know I can change back.
For I deserve to be happy again...

I Can't

I'm always so tired. By tired, I don't mean just physically, but mentally and emotionally as well. There isn't a day since December that I wouldn't feel the weight on my shoulders. If anything, the weight just gets heavier each day.

I cannot get any more tired. I was tired yesterday. I am more tired today. I felt so dizzy today during netball practice, but I got through it. How much more do I have in me? Because for all I know, I don't think I can take this anymore. I feel hot, prickling tears in my eyes now but I can't cry. I wish I could. I want to be hugged, a hug so warm and assuring, so that I can cry aloud. For once.

Even the idea of a blackout seems comforting. Because that way, I could vanish into oblivion, without a care for the world, for a few seconds. Even if it's just a few seconds, it would be enough.

I'm so dizzy.
I'm so tired.
I want to cry.

But I can't.

First attempt

And here goes my perfectly imperfect attempt of a Shakespearean sonnet... Judge not! Though I doubt anyone is even reading this.

His winsome smile like stars allures all eyes,

Your smile lopsided, warms my heart at night,

His deep blue eyes bit once made me shy trice,

Now nothing but your eyes so small, so right.

So what if charming is the word for him:

Though dark and skinny you always endear me,

The shots he makes so skilled hits not the rim,

He scores, crowd roars, still you are all I see.

"Say yes," they scream, "don't let the chance pass by!"

That's when my eyes start searching for someone,

"Come on," they urge, "he is the perfect guy."

No, I run, for my heart has found the one.

"I love you for you, so please change not," I say.

You wipe my tears and gently say, "Okay." 



 

Sigh 2.0

 to be continued...

Things to do that I dreaded:

- write sonnet for english
- finish e lit work
- finish physics work
- read econs textbook
- color in local history project
- find news and pictures for local history project 
(to be completed tomorrow, just because the library never opens on public holidays and exeats!)

And there goes the things that are were in my way but I embraced:

- dance pratice
- netball practice

See, this just shows that I am actually capable of meeting deadlines!
 *a well-deserved pat on the back*

Sigh

Things to do that I dread:

- write sonnet for english
- finish e lit work
- finish physics work
- read econs textbook
- color in local history project
- find news and pictures for local history project

And there goes the things that are in my way, but I embrace:

- dance practice
- netball practice

So many things to do, so little time.
How is it possible? Sigh.
Even breathing seems difficult at this moment...

Little Things

Exhaustion would be an understatement today. Two hours of sports both at six in the morning and at four-thirty in the evening are rather overwhelming, taking into account that I've had merely five hours of sleep last night. Despite the weight of fatigue upon my shoulders, there is no denying the amount of satisfaction that I've gotten out of them. If only my life could revolve around this - wearing myself out with intense sports and diving headfirst into bed, with no time in between for me to feel anything else but plain tired. But I can't.

On a brighter note: 

My roomies fill my nights with endless of jokes and drama on boyfriends;
My teammates tire my mouth out from laughing at their adorable netball mistakes;
My best friend just annoys me through ways that are impossible not to love her (today she took on a new adventure and that was to mess with my hair).
I thought I couldn't laugh again. Instead, I couldn't laugh more.

Little things make me happy; The littlest of things are enough to break me down too. My happiness doesn't last long, if that makes any sense.

I'm happy today. I was happy yesterday. But how long is this going to last?

I stink. I'd better shower. Now.

Happy/Unhappy

I'm happy that I tore myself away from the roofs under which one calls "home"; I'm happy that I've sought shelter in the comforts of what I call "home" a week ago. I'm happy with the company of three jovial roomies, in a room where I can always expect uproars of laughter after a long day. I'm happy to have fallen back on track with all of my classes, though monotonous and some just plain boring. I'm happy that my temporary wounds have mostly turned into scars, settling to permanence on the center of my knee, thus I can finally engage myself in some sports after a whole month of entrapment in those four walls. I'm happy to see the many familiar faces, all looking brighter than ever, as I walk to class; I'm happy to see even the unfamiliar faces, hoping the "homesick" faces that they pull will soon be turned into a genuine, happy smile.

I'm happy to hear the concerned voices of them from home every night before I sleep, but I just don't admit it.

I'm happy that in this new room, my best friend and I can stick our beds together every night for the whole term, just talking to our hearts' content - about anything, about everything. And already I'm missing this feeling, given a race against time is redundant.

I'm happy to have reunited with a long, lost friend - whom I confided in for positive energy, who opened my eyes to the kingdom of the Big Man called God, whose words that always, always, sent me to fits of endless laughters.

I'm happy at a lot of things. Some are left unspoken still.
So how is it possible that I'm still not happy...

At all?

Have You Ever

Today is just the fourth day of school and it seems to me that weeks, scratch that, months have passed since then. Already I am back on track with most of my classes, at least I think I am. I had my basketball tryouts yesterday and much to my astonishment, I've made it to the "actual" squad. Same time yesterday were the football tryouts and mind you, I had a hard time contemplating between football and basketball, before finally choosing the latter. Here's hoping that I've made the right choice. *fingers-crossed*

Have you ever thought that you were good for nothing? Okay, allow me to rephrase that.
Have you ever just wanted to actually be real good in something, as opposed to being a Jack of all trades? Well, that just sums up how I feel every time when it comes to doing sports.

The grass is always greener on the other side - I've been saying this a lot lately. I wonder if it is trying to imply something to me. If it is, it'd better prove me wrong.

Fear

What if I don't want what's best for me now? I've come a long way to finally being at this stage, and frankly I don't think I will ever go back - I don't think I can ever go back. My fears still haunt me every now and then, even as I'm typing this, just the thought of going back - back to how I once was - sends daggers to my hearts.

But lately, as much as I hate to admit it, I'm starting to become a mere shadow of my former self:
My fingers often tremble. My head often spins. My eyes often black out. My body is always just so cold... I'm just plain weak.

I know just what I have to do.
Question is: Will I do it?

More To This

If only you knew the reasons to my doing this,

If only there was an easier way to tell you this. 

But the thing is: 

You don't,

And I haven't the courage,

to voice my deepest, darkest thoughts

Concealed in my heart like a winter mist.

Emotions

Mostly everyone in the house is still lost in their dreams at this hour, yet I'm awake, which is no surprise. My eyelids opened sometime around 4 and it took me quite a lot of tossings and turnings until I finally got some sleep again. Right now, I'm more awake than ever. School is starting in 2 hours and the thought of that sends a wave of emotions down my spine. My adrenalin keeps me going at the thought of a new term (term 2) but my nerves are grabbing ahold of me. "I don't wanna go to school" would be an overstatement, considering that we live in school.

I hope everything turns out fine today. For me, and for anybody at all who is experiencing the same emotions as I am. I just want to be happy - an understatement that is needless to be said.

Wonder

As I stare into the innocence of the eyes of babies, I wonder, do they know that there is just so much more to this world than just barbie dolls and transformers? As I jog past a teenage boy doing a three-pointer, I wonder, does he have expectations to reach in the future? As I walk past a college girl with her head bent over an island of assignments, I wonder, does she undergo peer pressure? As I smile at an elderly mother watching her child's graduation, I wonder, are those tears of delight or tears of sadness, a sign of time that is beyond her grasp?

As I am typing away now, I wonder, does anybody constantly read this blog at all?  

And even if you do, I wonder, do you start wondering about me?

I wonder why I wonder so much. Is it just me? 

Oh, I wonder.

Holding On

Of all people, I need your assurance and thorough understanding; I need your encouragement and care. I need them from you and I need them now, of all things. Nothing can surpass my need for them at this stage of adolescence. You were once in my shoes, too. Instead, all I get from you are your endless reprimands. Just last week, you shouted at me and that one in particular has since then built a wall around myself - around us.

How long more can I sustain myself? How long more can I take, before what I fear, an imminent breakdown? I wish you would know what I'm going through now. I wish just someone would know.

If only I were brave enough. Till then, I just have to keep holding on.

Four Walls

I take a step inside and gently close the door behind me. As soon as I am left alone within the four walls of my bedroom, I slowly start to break down. My mind then replays the events of the day, the things I did, the food I ate, the words I said - the images start to spin so quickly that my head hurts, and involuntarily, both of my hands find their usual spot on both sides of my head, squeezing it with all my might.

My energy eventually runs out. Soon I find myself just sitting, staring into space, as my eyes clog up. But I don't cry.

Lost In Transit

How do you spell love?         - Piglet

You don't spell it. You feel it.   - Pooh

But how am I to love others when I don't even love myself?


"Yes, Piglet?"

"Nothing," said Piglet, taking Pooh's hand, "I just wanted to be sure of you."

But will anyone walk into my life and finally settles down to the idea of permanence?


I need answers, Pooh.

Realize

His eyes are round and are that of a rather light grey which sparkle upon her agreement to an early morning jog. His greying eyebrows are in need of grooming and they furrow ever so slightly whenever she refuses to stuff anymore vegetables down her rebellious tummy. His nose is humungous and it often twitches whenever she has yet not showered at late nights.

He has a gargantuan appetite that always sends her laughing uproariously as he wolfs down, even the least decent food, and still manages to make them look scrumptious. He has the most magnanimous heart - a heart that is willing to care regardless of her tantrums, to forgive even when she is twice bitten, to love unconditionally despite a recent minor breakdown that has stolen a part of her old self away from her. 

Over a course of 3 days, she's noticed some additions to his already crinkled forehead, whilst another two run down on both sides of his mouth and many spread all over his weather-beaten skin as she placed her hand in his, involuntarily fingering the rough surface of his palm. It then dawned on her that as she was growing up by the days, so was he aging - very rapidly, in fact.

In 2 days' time, she would be gone, leaving her comfort zone for a second home that awaits her behind the gates of a boarding school. "Just when I thought you and I got closer this holiday, you will be leaving me again!" Just then, gone was the strong and determined man she has come to know but a father in his 70s, conversing with his only 15-year-old daughter. Those mere words were followed by a laugh that resonated in the dining room. A laugh that screams emptiness... Just like a reflection of his own self.

- a better daughter in making

2014

Time is passing by too fast, so much so that it scares me. Well, most of the time.

I'm not one to express my personal feelings in plain words and it has taken me immense courage - typing, deleting, cancelling - to finally be embarking on my resolution #1: Create a blog. As I said earlier, time is slipping out of my hands. Everything was happening in such a hurry - To me, it only seemed like last month that I was in pursuit of a new life in KTJ, just last week that I moved to Irinah, and merely yesterday that I was still in the comforts of life in form 3. Sadly, reality has broken me from my reverie because the truth is this: It's been a full 2 years since I stepped foot in KTJ, my second home, a full 365 days since I moved to Irinah, and 1 school term since I was still on cloud nine in form 3.

And all those things happened last year, as I am typing these away on the 1st day of the 1st month in my 1st blog as my 1st post in the year 2014.

A new year is when one leaves the past behind them and takes a step closer to their dreams. Am I any closer to fulfilling my dreams? I really do not know. In fact, I haven't a slightest clue as to what my dream(s) may be. Do you feel the same way? I hope you do, at least then I'll know that I'm not alone...

Cinderella says that "a dream is a wish your heart makes". I really do hope she's right.
2014 - I wish it would be a good year, if not the best year yet.

Resolution #2:  Write in the blog