Archive for November 2014

Quid Pro Quo

Wednesday, November 12, 2014 Comments Off

"Universal exchange of personal pains and joys."

The lyrics hit me hard. I have forgotten this song, as I have with other trivial things that I noticed and felt from the same exact year when I discovered it. All of the sudden I was taken to this place where I was sitting in my car when it was raining, listening to this song for the first time and thinking, 'how poetic it must be to have someone to share all of your feelings to.'

There is this part inside me that thinks about how much people don't actually get what I am feeling. And how often they ignore my need for being selfish, because frankly I have been the gatekeeper of their secrets and their thoughts, while none has been able to do the same for me.

As a human being, there are days when I feel like shit and all I want to do is just talk to people about it or make them do what I want to do. You know, being selfish. Often times I have found myself doing things for other people. I have done things for them sincerely. But I have never go the chance to do things the way I want them to be carried out.

I've listened, God knows how much I've listened, but people do not actually want to be in my shoes for me.

And I believe in the term of quid pro quo.

And at the same time I know that they would not be as accepting as I have been to them if I rage at everything or if I am being selfish and do things in my way. I know they would scold me or brand me as a bitch for being selfish, from time to time.

All I ask is for people to understand that, at times, I don't need to do anything their way.

Qs

Monday, November 10, 2014 Comments Off

a/ sleep: what is the most comforting thing at night time for you?
drinking tea and putting on baggy clothes.

b/ visitor: what creature visits your dreams most often?
humans(?) and snakes.

c/ chimes: what sounds are your favorite?
raindrops or heavy rain. and any of my favourite actors' voice. and the sound of nothing.

d/ times: when do you normally awaken?
depends. normally, at seven or eight.

e/ marking: describe your tattoos, or tattoos you would like in the future?
oh! this is my favourite question. if I ever to have some in the future, these are probably the things that came in mind: a pisces constellation on my wrist, my birth date and location on the side of my ribcage, my initial on the web between my left thumb and point, 19/07/12 on my ankle because it was the day I met the love of my life and I have lived without him ever since, and quaintrelle on the nape of my neck.

f/ reverie: think of somewhere otherworldly u wish to be within, what is it like there?
peaceful. children could grow without fear of not having anything in the future. serene. everyone has equal chances to try on anything and everything. love is received and given selflessly and fully. and I am loved romantically there.

g/ warmth: what do you find most charming in others?
their confidence. the way they make the crowd stares at them. and their warmth towards the people that do not hold any importance in their life. their manners.

h/ treat: your favorite sweets?
can I just pick dessert? ice cream.

i/ nestle: your most precious plush toy?
Lotso bear!

j/ posy: your favorite herbs?
oh this is hard. juniper, probably. (remember the previous name of this blog?)

k/ stories: books you remember from your childhood?
there was this book series about life under the sea. it was colourful and the pages were thick. it was my favourite! I also had the complete series of Beatrix Potter's rabbit.

l/ folk: who is the most fantastical being u have known?
anyone that would willingly love me

m/ elder: what do u expect to be like in your elder years?
satisfied. with every decision and every path that I've taken. full with love that I've received. have contributed enough to this world.

n/ home: in what type of environment do you feel most safe?
where everything is in order, the law enforcement that actually enforces law, where the people are polite, and the public transportations that work. basically, London.

o/ finds: what kind of item would you most likely buy from an antique store?
any kind of engraved jewelries that actually fit

p/ offering: how do you show others you are fond of them?
by spending time with them or dedicating some time of my life for them, e.g. buying them their favourite things, replying their messages, supporting their ideas.

q/ lore: if your life were a tale, how do u expect it would end?
peacefully and with closure.

Excessively

Sunday, November 9, 2014 § 0

Due to my being exhausted by my own thoughts of not receiving acceptance from the most supportive people in my life, I have decided that I will put my thoughts at rest by forming them in my most trusted companion. My blog. Furthermore, I have yet to know anyone else, beside a small selected few, that would be open to my thoughts about marriage and kids.

The exact idea about writing this came upon learning that my friend basically wrote something similar to what I am about to tell, even though hers is more based on her religious point of view, while mine is a bit far off. This post would probably be very honest and I open to any discussions, thoughts, or even rants that you may have. It is open to any interpretation, I will try to give this as blunt as possible, but, at the same time, express my voice in a way that would not insult anyone.

For the first time in my blog, I will put a read more section so people could choose ignore this one and this will be a really long post. And the comment section is open if anyone wants to give your thoughts or express anything. Who am I kidding, this blog has zero hit

Read more »

Yes, To You

Wednesday, November 5, 2014 Comments Off

The limbs of my being are heavy. Overweighted with the memories of the people that I could not hug anymore. Worn by years of holding on to things that cannot be relied on anymore. Scratched and marked by mountains of heavy silence. Exerted all day, every day, by people who has shown me affection and attention.

There is a faraway look in my eyes. Presences of physically absent people could be seen there, hiding in secret between the stupendous d'ĂȘtre and my hold on the present. Always halfway between staring at the past and glaring at the future. Swarming with faint recollections of people and places. (mostly when I was alone in the middle of nowhere town.) My lips are repeating the same words, over and over again, "I'm here, in the present."

My heart is full, somewhat returned. The memories and love I receive are overflowing. At some point will threaten to break the skin. A tough expanse that's thinning overtime with the dedication and time that innumerable people have shown me throughout the years of post-solitary. Not damaged, no, never, but flexed to accommodate the received fondness.




(And I am sorry if I can't be your light-limbed, baggage-less, unworried, confident girl with the twinkling eyes with inexperienced heart that sprawls on your afghan-covered sofa.)

(And I am sorry if I can't have you as my sole friend; I have other people, whose existence have preceded yours, that need my rapt assistance. You will be the first––in any way you could interpret it––but I can't have you as the only one that I live for.)

Cumbersome

Tuesday, November 4, 2014 Comments Off

"There is a lot of love lost when you chose to love something. Lots of time and dedication and effort got taken away just to please this something, or please yourself for this special something. It may be hurtful for the others, but if they understand you and love you in return, they would not complain––as a matter of fact they would love you, for finally taking notice of a love that has been hovering there while you were busy not noticing. It is the most selfless thing in the world when you finally love something."

"A lot of time wasted for naught, I bet." I said, the forever hopeless romantic realist. "There is no way of knowing whether they love you back."

"But they say action speak louder than words."

I was about to say, true, especially in cases when one partner is typically more introverted than the other or when one of them has anxiety issues, but the words were swallowed by my intake of beer and my nerve to speak was drowned in the joined hands of loud locals and drinks being served. "Loads of bull," I ended up saying.

"How could you be––you were once my," a sigh could be heard, or perhaps I imagined it as so, "You've changed so much. Too much."

Maybe it was true. The design and complexity of my new world was different from what both of us had known for a long time. Scenery of it was, quite possibly, a stark contrast of what we had (years and years ago). I could not tell if it was for the better. Or for worse. There was this ethereal serenity that I found by being something that I was.

Maybe it was true. They said I had this twinkle in my eyes that people had not seen before, a recently discovered enigma that was buried deep between the possibility of relapsing and nestled behind my self-control. My eyes now focused on the dartboard next to the bar. People were bee-lining to get pumped. (I did not know anything about infatuation, not anymore.)

Maybe it was true. The early stages were predicted, by science, humanity, and psychology. But these aftereffects were unknown to mankind unless their experience it. It was a personal combat between the mind, the conscience, and the heart. Ethereal, yes, but it was also lonely. Cumbersome.

"Did love changed you? The love of others that had served you for years and now they chose to change you. This is not who you are." it was almost delivered as a scream, but the tone was changed on the last part. Instead of anger, it was disappointment. To self or to me, I could not tell.

"It is called family. They don't serve me. But it was not love. It was hatred." I could tell, a flicker in the eyes changed from disappointment to curiosity. Perhaps I did not phrase it perfectly. "What I meant was that my hatred towards everything that used to make and identify me was the sole key to changed me. This hatred is another form of love that I wish you could experience."

"Life-changing, I bet." this time, it was a sneer. A condescending experience that I had seen thousands of times before.

"I could not do that anymore. It was not even the drugs that ticked me off. Recreational drugs are not something that people should take lightly, but in this case, it should be. The simple reason was the whole cult. The celebration of something that should not be loved. Worshipping something that's living is not a way to live. Dedicating your life for someone else, that's not guaranteed would love you back or even think about you the same way you think about them was not healthy. Not for me. Have you seen the tricks behind the miracles? All staged act. It's time to take time for myself. This is my life. I would not give another thought or any dispensable and indispensable things for it. I could not tolerate it. Not anymore." my speech was delivered without feeling or emotion, the best way to make someone understand.

"You were my husband. We were supposed to live with each other forever. I could not––"

I put some bills on the table and proceeded to leave.

Maybe hatred that pulled me out. But it was love that made me leave.
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