Sunday, May 28, 2006
Actually, I was happily blogging the evening I came home. I must have got on the wrong side of Lady Luck that day because just as I reached the conclusion of my entry, the screen went 'poof' and off went my entry. Using the landline sucks. To make a long story short, the brother fell in love with online games, thus resulting in mumsie banishing darling braodband hence terminating his love affair. Now he's nursing a broken heart, and I'm curbing the frustration of not being able to be reunited with both my sweethearts. One's the idiot box of course and the other's my computer with broadband... Ah well, we can't have everything.....
Anyway, KL's a labyrinth of roads, junctions, roundabouts, turnings, signboards, roads, roads and more roads. Getting from one destination to another becomes such a chore. Being used to the convenience in Ipoh, where a 30 minute drive is tantamount to driving to the next town, to be suddenly thrown into a bustling city where it takes close to 30 minutes to go anywhere people deem 'nearby' feels positively alien. Besides, maybe it's just me, but the place takes on a sinister appearance by nightfall. Danger looms where darkness reigns. *Shudder*
My college life is officially starting tomorrow. I'm eager, excited, but for the most part, apprehensive. Orientation week was alright. We had a typical mass call, where people ( they had names and titles attached to those names, but I wasn't paying that much attention so I missed it = p ) talked and talked and talked. After that, we had 'lots' of activities, but since those activities lasted for only a few hours, we were left to our own devices for the rest of those looooong days. Needless to say, my roommate and I were bored senseless. The library proved to be a diversion, but not for long. We spent the rest of the day literally playing the staring game. Know the rules of the game? It's easy, you just find a partner and stare at each other. Then, we'll flop on our beds and laugh at our futility in seeking something to occupy time. Desperadoes we were.
Tomorrow's schedule seems to be packed. I'll be having lectures non stop till 6pm, starting at 10am with a one hour lunch break in between. I hope we'll have something to do by then. I must be nuts but I'd rather have homework (easy ones are most certainly welcome) than to sit around and waste away.
I got a shock when I saw our engineering workshops the other day. In all honesty I had no idea what to expect, but it certainly wasn't those machines and thingamajigs that I saw. The seniors' warnings were scary enough, no baggy clothes, long hair must be tied, no bracelets, no earrings, no handphones because of some radiation interference, and a tonne of other things that results in dire consequneces..The first thought that crossed my mind wasn't " wow, how extremely cool ! ", all my mushy brain could think of was "Goodness, what have I gotten myself into".
A part of me wants to stay in good ole Ipoh. Simple Ipoh. But I've got to graduate. There were times when we got so desperate, I joked about dumping college, coming home, start a 'career' waitressing and live the rest of my life regretting. I wonder how the next four years will turn out. It's weird how things are reversed now. A week ago, 'vacation' meant going somewhere away from home. Now, 'vacation' means coming back home. hmm....
I've still got loads to crap about, but time does not permit me to do so. Mum cooked up some bitter, black, herbal thingy that's supposed to be nutritious and I've gotta go for gastronomical torture now.
Aloha ! (because it means hello and bye and I hate goodbyes )
Saturday, May 20, 2006
This may be the last post I post in a while. When was the last time I blogged? Bout a week ago? It's been an eventful week for sure. One of the fastest to pass. I went to check out my hostel last Sunday. I've got over the initial shock and unease. One thing's for sure, I'm SO NOT looking forward to staying there. I've been wishing the days would crawl by, but so far, all time seems to be doing is zooming past. Right now, I've psycho-ed myself to treat it all as an adventure. Imagine one day, decades and decades away, I'd be telling my grandkids (if I ever get married to begin with) how I survived on baked beans, lived in a room none bigger than a matchbox, shared a communal bathroom, took cold baths at dawn, climbed 5 flights of stairs a few times daily, walked miles everyday, lived without a TV set nearby, did my own 'budgeting' , and lived 'independantly'. = p
I must say that I was taught geography at the dining table at a very tender age. Well, here's an example.. when I was younger, I used to love to pick at my food. So mum would go, " Joanna, eat your rice, do you know how many children in Africa/Bosnia are starving? Do you know how much they would love and appreciate having spinach to eat? You are so lucky.....so don't be so fussy" So to me, Africa was the country mum speaks of whenever I refuse to eat something yucky. Nutritious food's always yucky aren't they? I remember mum forcing me to 'eat' cod liver oil. Mind you, when I was around 5, cod liver oil meant the emulsion form. No gold capsules because mum was afraid I'd choke myself to death. And gawd did that icky white cod liver oil emulsion taste awful ! Things that mum called 'brain food' , I translated into 'run away quick' food. So 'brain boosting sessions' usually resulted in a battle of wills, and a chase round and under the dining table.
Looking through my autograph book today, I realised how much I missed school and how dear all those sweet memories in school meant to me. I used to think mum and dad were kidding or were just acting 'parenty' when they told me 'Schooldays are the best ! You'll miss it when you graduate'' Now, I know what they mean. Reading what friends wrote opened up the dam of memories once again. While bittersweet memories pooled and flooded around me, it felt as if I was back in school again. It was like a picturebook in my mind, where happy scenes are replaying themselves. It's sad to see phrases like " It's our last year together this year, I still remember when......." or " It's time to bid farewell and go on our own journeys''. Sometimes I wish I could go back there again, but in life we always have to move forward don't we? Many of my friends have started Form 6, some have gone overseas, some have gone to college. We've all spread our wings and took flight. I can't help but wonder what's going on in my friends' lives. It's almost sinful how we took our time together for granted. But Kim's autograph sent me into peals of laughter. It just demonstrates how unpredictable life could be at times.
Ah, well, it's time I embarked on my own journey, to explore foreign lands and terrains. It's times like these that I think of my grandmother. I wonder whether she knows what's happening in my life, I wonder whether she's proud of me, whether she knows all I've done and achieved, my accomplishments and failures. When I see her again, I'll tell her that I've done a lot of growing up in the time she left, but some things still remain the same. I'm still afraid of the dark, I still pick at my food, I still misplace my watch often, I still believe in ghosts and refuse to watch horror movies, and I've graduated from Enid Blyton to the likes of Sandra Brown and Sidney Sheldon, but I still get stuck in what Josh terms 'bookland' . I don't squabble with Josh so often now. Maybe that's what they meant by 'maturity', but then again, maybe it's because we see so little of each other, there's hardly time to take out the artillery and declare war before time comes and whisks it all away....
I guess that's all I have to say right now. I started out with lots to say but words just evades me. Till I get near a computer in the near future, Adieu !
Friday, May 12, 2006
I closed a chapter of my life some time ago. Months ago, to be more specific. And the time is nearing for me to take the next big step. One more week to go and I'll be installed in college.
Frankly, I'm split between two main feelings. Excitement and trepidation. A big part of me is excited. I'm going to be on my own. I'll be discovering new things, learning new things, adapting away from home. But then again, in the midst of all the excitement broiling around me, there's this dubious feeling nestling somewhere at the back of my mind. It is scary really. I've never been away from home before this. Literally. Man, am I overprotected !
I also realise this is the first step to independance. I remember so vividly all the things I used to do as a secondary school student. Mugging for exams. Rushing for tuitions. Chatting in school. Being a librarian. Debating with the team. Studying without having weighty decisions to make. Fooling around. Laughing and talking the day away. Sweet, sweet memories. And suddenly, it's as if I've reached this short plateau. Short, but no doubt a plateau. For a while, I just existed, not lived. Had a short stint working part time. It was no doubt an experience. One I'll never forget. Filled with bittersweet memories. Funny, but everytime I think of it, my blood boils. Not in a good way. I'm still looking around for an outlet to let out that one suppressed feeling, so far not succeeding. But nevermind about that.
Anyway, back to the point. Time has passed by with the mercy of a bullet-train. I miss school. Darn, I never thought I'd say it. I was gearing to be out of school. I was gearing to go to college. But suddenly, it's as if I'm standing precariously at the edge of that plateau. And I see the drop. I know I can't stay on that comfortable place any longer. It's time to move on. Time and tide wait for no man. yada yada. But I still find it impossible to stave back that trepidation. I hate my brain sometimes. I'm good at contradictions. I'm good at pessimism. And I'm good at self-denial.
Stepping out of my little existence to 'explore' the unknown, to have adventures and to eventually 'live' proves to be a really seductive deal. But then again, it's like that feeling you get when you first open a book. You're curious as hell to find out what's in store for you. You've skimmed throught the introduction at the back and the short writer's note. A little summary, a little tantalisation before the real thing. I think the beginning of anthing new is akin to that feeling you get when you flick open the first page of a brand new book. ( That is, if you're a bookworm like me, if you are anything like Josh, the feeling you get will be something like a groan, a moan, a litany of grumbles and a succession of yawns ). Back to where I was before I digressed, my feeling right now is a weird mix. I can't wait to open and begin penning my new chapter. Will it be a bore ? Will it be interesting? Will it be exactly like I want it to be? I guess I'll just have to delve in and discover later eh?
Is this how everyone else felt? By the way, I didn't get the PSD scholarship. I currently feel numb I guess. The whole thing was a helluva lot of fun. The waiting, the 'attitude' test, the interview. It was an experience. I'm relieved that the choice has been made for me actually. At least the road isn't diverged, and if I had taken one road, years later, I would wonder, "What if I'd taken the other road? How then would things have turned out?" It's really funny how things work out sometimes. Life leads you round and round in circles and you find yourself in square one over and over again. But then, when God closes a door, He always opens a window.
Yaso was asking me about coincidence the other day. A part of me believes that our lives have been mapped out for us already. What we like to call 'coincidence' is probably a part of the big picture. Something in the blueprint. But just because life is 'mapped out' it doesn't mean we take a backseat and let the shows begin. I think we're co-drivers of our own destinies. Every action has a reaction. Newton's law. The reins have been placed in our hands. And it's up to us to steer the way. The destination has already been planned but it's up to us how to get there. Along the way, we might break a wheel, but that shouldn't stop us from going on. Life goes on without us. Wouldn't it be a shame if we just stood still and waste away while everything around us is blossoming and blooming and growing and improving and living?
It never ever crossed my mind that I'd end up being an engineer. Frankly, it was never one of those things I wrote essays about in primary school when the teacher asked us what we wanted to be. I had wanted to be a teacher, a fireman (don't ask), a music teacher ( so far, I've only succeeded in being a music slaughterer ), a doctor, a pharmacist, a psychologist, and a paediatrician. Engineer never even crossed my mind. And yet, that is what I'm going to be. I always say 'what' I want to be and not 'who' I want to be. That's because I like who I am now. I know who I am. And 'who' I want to be is to stick being me, hopefully, time won't compromise the person I am. I'm surprised at my own choice. I'm even more surprised to find that I'm thrilled and raring to get started on studying. Studying, a word that sounds so foreign to me now. Right now, I'm having a diarrhea of words and I just can't stop the flow. Right now, these words seem to be the only panacea for my feelings.
As you can see, growing up, I've never had this burning, flaming torch inside me. I'm not like some of my friends who have set their mind to be doctors before they knew their ABCs, or borned lawyers. I lack the patience to be a good teacher and the compassion to be a good nurse. Biology and Chemistry were always at war when it came to choosing my favourite Science subject. Physics was always at the bottom of the list. I seem to have a knack for numbers but numbers drive me nuts. Which explains why I can never be an accountant. So, it's not really surprising that I chose to venture into Chemical Engineering. I remember being very undecided even after I sat for the SPM. I only made up my mind a fortnight after the results were out. I used to hate it when relatives would ask me what I wanted to be. I used to answer 'dunno' to every single question they posed so much so that some of them must have thought me mentally impaired. So I made up vague answers. I loathe it when people say I can't do it. People think I'm pampered. Soft. But I feed on their skeptism. Instead of pushing me down, they fuel and renew my zest for wanting to prove them wrong. I accept and appreciate constructive criticism but I detest unbased prejudice.
Why is it that we live our lives for others? I wish I could be those happy-go-lucky people out there. They don't give a thought to what others think of them. Their lives are theirs and theirs alone. Why can't I break free from crazy taboos and 'stigmas' that society loads unto us? Why must I don a stuffy mask in the light of day, diminishing my own character into the dank refuges of my mind? Why do I lack the courage to stand up and shout to the world who I really am inside? Maybe what William Shakespeare said was right. He must have been quite an oddball himself during those days. His private life raised questions as to what resided in the mindfolds of the world renowned literary genius. We're but petty players, strutting about on a stage, playing our little roles to the fullest before the last breath blows off the candle that represents our lives, and the rest is darkness. Like players in a play, after the play ends, the grandiose of it all fades. Life is very much like a stage. We live and behave for the benefit of others. We put far too much import on insignificance, on gossip. Why is it wrong to think on our own? Why is it that society, no matter how modern and open minded they claim to be, want to suppress individuality and convert everyone else to be the same? Why does the word 'unique' only last but a while before it becomes common again? And on that note, I shall leave to do some pondering of my own.
Wednesday, May 10, 2006
The first thing on the list was to brush your teeth with your other hand. Meaning if you're right handed, brush with your left and vice versa. That should have been a piece of cake. So I tried it out that day itself, and it was an eventful occasion. I jabbed myself so many times I lost count, and I almost de-braced myself ( Dr Lim would have a field day hollering his head off at me if I did de-brace myself =P ). And it really is quite hard to brush in circles with your opposite hand. Seriously.
Next, it was suggested that you flick open the dictionary, pick out a few new words and try to use them in your sentences. So off I went, industriously searching for some words. My victim? None other than Josh. So that afternoon when Josh came back home, I greeted him at the door ( something I rarely do ) and tried out my new words on him. He gave me a I-must-have-gone-into-the-wrong-house look, rolled his eyes and said "English please." He then walked past me, as if I were a cumbersome fly. Sigh.
Then, the article suggested to take a shower with your eyes closed. So I did. Till today, I wonder whether I used the right shampoo or the right shower gel. I thought I could rely on my nose, but apparently my nose is only functional when it comes to sniffing out food.
It's also stated that you should eat oily fish at least once a week. Oily fish, what's the definition of oily fish? I'm sure the article didn't mean deep fried fish but I ate that anyway, knowing somewhere along the dim recesses of my mind that I was doing something wrong. hmmm.....
So, there you go. At the end of it, the only thing that smarted were my bruised gums. I don't think I got any smarter in the brain department though. I still take ages to solve a Sudoku puzzle, that is, without cheating. Even if i did cheat, I'd still take a little less than ages.
Note: No toothbrushes or dictionaries were harmed in the course of the experiment.
Monday, May 08, 2006
He's going to be the first thing I see in the morning and the last before I go to bed. I'll have my breakfasts with him and my suppers, cozily slurping with him before I go into the realm of dreams. He's so cute, he stares at you with wide, starry eyes. He's going to be a part of my college life now. A new 'friend'. Let me introduce.....Baabaa the drunk sheep.* winks*
Haha, don't you think he just looks drunk and blur? Pretty much like me in the mornings, probably that's why I loved him on sight.
He's 2-D and he has a baa-tt !
Haha, now he'll have Milo for me in the mornings and late nights, and green tea during the other times. And don't forget, coffee for those nights preceding the exams. And if I can't sleep at night I can count those spirals that's all over him! Alright now. Enough of my inane, sheep-induced chatter. I've gotta go watch 'Ghost Whisperer' now.
Have a baa-ing good night!
Sunday, May 07, 2006
I got a haircut today. Well, not much of a haircut actually. Just a little trim. Asked mumsie to cut my hair for me. You see, I have a thing against going to a proper hairstylist/hairdresser/whatever they're called..The last one I had the ill fortune of going to almost snipped my ears off. And they usually have super sharp nails and they love to scrape their nails through your scalp. And they almost ALWAYS give you a wrong haircut and blame it on you. Anyway, I don't look much different now. Mum was supposed to layer it for me, but she said she didn't dare cut too much of it off. Seriously though, I hate sitting still for too long, while someone fusses over your hair. It's just a waste of time. Not that I'm short of any....but..Well, I get bored easily. And I usually hurry mum. I'll go.." Ok ok..can already.....so long..."every few seconds. Is it any wonder that hairdressers run away from me...haha
But you see, this isn't the worst yet, after I took a shower, I came out and mum went "Eh, the right side's a little longer. Yaaa...much longer...see? see? I told you, you should scrutinise yourself in the mirror....and don't be so impatient" So, being typically me...I stood in front of the mirror, took the offending lock of hair between my fingers, and snip! And I almost screamed ! Only thing, the scream was stuck somewhere in my throat and it only came out as an audible gasp...God...I snipped off tooo much of it..Sigh..now I look like those crazy pop stars who have equally crazy hairstyles. I mean, I do trim my own fringe but if something goes wrong, I can always pin it up. But my hair....that's another sad case. Gah, whatever's done is done. Now, I'll just bun it up and no one will realise. Hopefully....
And, I made a pair of new glasses today ! Titanium frame ( at least I think that's what the guy said) with glass lenses. Yup, glass lenses. Sigh, apparently, I'm too blind to get super high index plastic lenses. So I'll have to settle for glass ones instead. Holy Moly, my grandma used glass lenses, and they weighed like a tonne ! And they can actually break if i drop them. All I can do is cross my butter-fingers and pray I won't drop them. But at least they'll 'look' thin, since they're super high index and cost like a bomb. The only consolation is, I get to maintain my power ! Yay, no increase * relieved sigh* But ho ho, the examination part of it was funny. I couldn't see properly at first. God knows what the guy there was doing. He was shifting the lenses right and left and going " Clear? Blur? Clear? Blur?". Goodness, I almost got a headache ! And I was gritting my teeth, itching to pound him on the head. But then haha, I couldn't make out what the tiniest letters were so I just went " O, O, O, X ". So, duh, I got the whole row wrong. But the guy said it didn't matter because my eyes were weak. ( I think he said that, cos well, you know how good my Cantonese is) He also said that in real life I wouldn't be reading such tiny letters from that distance anyway, so that's a point. Then, thanks to my kindly mama's suggestion, I had to walk around in those super ugly glasses. You know the kind they make you wear when they're testing your eyesight. They look like some outer-space, alien glasses and weigh so much it's a wonder gravity didn't pull them off my nose and bring them crashing to the ground. Well, I wish they had, because I had to walk around in the shop which at that moment was full of patrons who weren't blind. Much to my chagrin. Anyway, the irritating guy had the gall to grin like a Cheshire cat when I handed the glasses back. Gah ! The idiocy of it all..my power was the same, so why did I have to test walk those glasses. *shakes head*
Then, I had to choose a frame. No mean feat ! There were so many to choose from. Initially I wanted plastic frames but the guy led me to a table full of funky frames in all colours of the rainbow. They were pretty to look at, but too bad I didn't intend to look like a clown or a fashion disaster..I meant, fashion designer, so I asked to look at something else instead. Too bad, everything I picked, the guy would go, ooh, that's nice, but they're heavy, what to do, your power so high. And that went on for so long, I wanted to scream " enough already ! My power's not that high, I haven't even reached 800......yet...besides,you're profiting from my eyes. grrr" In the end, I settled for this MAROON coloured frame. Squarish. Marooon. Light. Maroon. Japan brand. Maroon. Quite thin. Maroon. And I have no idea what I look like in it. Have I said it's Maroon? Sigh, I wanted black, plastic ones. But mum went "Young girl, don't take everything black la, that one's nice, young colour" So...Maroon's a 'young' colour I guess. Ooh, and mum was asking me to 'stop reading so much' and shaking her head so very often. Hehe, then the guy went " I think her eyesight is hereditary. " Ooh, I could have hugged him ! And I found out that my lazy eye was wearing off. Yippee ! No more lazy eye. * hops around gleefully* I'm so going to get contact lenses when I graduate.
Did some last minute shopping again. Bought some more black shirts ( I have a 'predilection' for black ). Black IS beautiful isn't it? Too bad mumsie and pops don't agree. And grandpa's against ANYTHING black. But then again, I wore black on the 2nd day of CNY last year. Had to pair it with a pink skirt, but it was still black ! tee hee. Thing is, people keep giving me pink and mauve and MAROON things. Maybe I look like those girly girl types. Sigh. But, to be polite, I don't wear black when I go visiting because I have relatives who are old and superstitious. And it kinda looks as if I'm ill-bred or obstinate and stubborn (which I am). Ah, but my stubborn streak has put me in many a plight. Now, I may have to go to a proper hairdresser. Maybe not.
Oh, yesterday I saw this really cute pharmacist. Went in to grab some vitamins and there he was ! Haha, he really was cute ! Like a bunny cute ! (Don't ask)
And before that, I saw this photographer who was let's say, small sized and chipmunk-like. Went in to take some passport sized pictures for college. And his mannerisms were so chipmunk-y! Bustling around the studio and asking me to tilt my head, move to the right ( I alsmot fell off the dumb stool ) move my shoulders, smile, yada yada. So there you go, I'll miss the bunny pharmacist and the chipmunk photographer when I leave....
Alright, this whole post has been a bunch of rubbish. Pardon me, but I better sign out now before I reduce you all to a well of bored tears.
Thursday, May 04, 2006
Watched 'The Majestic' starring Jim Carrey yesterday night. Till about 12.45 am if I'm not mistaken. Haha, so much for turning over a new leaf. Honestly though, I really wanted to take an early nightcap, but Josh was going "Please, please, please 5 more minutes, 5 more minutes..." Well, '5 minutes' soon turned into 2 and a 1/2 hours. But it was worth every single second of the 150 minutes.
The show mainly revolved around a 50's Hollywood screenwriter (is that what they're called?). Anyway, one day, he got involved in an accident and lost his memory. He ended up in this small town (Lawson) and he was mistaken for somebody's son. Very interesting plot.
Anyways, the show actually made me think of what the good old days would have been like. Bet the air would have been cleaner, less polution, people would have been more gracious, polite, kind, human. When a man's action was driven by pride and honour and not greed and lust. When fast food would have been synonym with poison. We pride ourselves in achieving first class infrastructure, we race to achieve the optimum in excellence and progress, but along the line, we forgot those things that should have been rooted deep in our souls.
We trade in material, worldly possessions in lieu of joy and happiness. We fool ourselves into believing that money, power and recognition is enough to feed our hungry souls. We cajole, cheat, and go to all lengths just to achieve what we think we want, never what 'we need'. Religion becomes our 'spare tyre', never what drives us. We talk so much of the path of righteousness, but don't realise that we've strayed away from it.
It saddens me to think what our ancestors would think of us, what more what God would. Yes, like what I read before once, it's easy to make promises on Sunday in church, but it's hard to keep to them. Easier said than done.
Doctors in the olden days were driven by a passion for healing ailments and a deep compassion for patients. Nowadays, they put their interests before others. I'm not saying that all doctors are like that. But the numbers are rising daily. And it's sad. It's sad that a specialist demands down-payment before he agrees to treat a patient. I mean, life and death isn't something to dally around with. What happened to the oath they made when they first took up the course? I believe that if you don't have what it takes to be something, then you shouldn't even try. Especially when it concerns the matter of life and death. Have they no conscience? Has medicine become a lucrative business instead of a noble one. Doctors are looked upon and often revered, why taint your image? I knew a man once. He refused to seek treatment from doctors and medical practitioners. When asked, he would reply " I do not wish to be 'practiced' upon". I used to think he was quite mad. Now, I think again. The world has witnessed many a miraculous recovery thanks to the world of modern medicine. But usually, few people become witness of the crushing setdowns that these men in white lab coats deliver. Good things are sung praises of, but the ugly ones are swept away. Why do I say all this? It's because I've observed hypocrisy at it's best. Sheeps in wolves' clothing parade amongst us everyday. They hide behind their professions, and lash out at the unsuspecting public. They say respect is earned, but more often than not, it's given to the wrong person. People who do NOTHING to earn it. Yes, I respect doctors. But not those who sit behind desks all day, who are condescending, who think they're God because they 'heal' people. No, they don't heal people. It's the medicine created by pharmacologists and biomedics, real people who research and spend hours to find cure. I respect those mission doctors who go to Africa, war-torn countries, poverty-stricken countries. These are the unsung heroes who deserve more credit than they get. Many put their lives at stake just to save another. And they do it for the survival of mankind. Their lives are far from being beds of roses but the legacy they leave behind will surely smell sweeter than any rose.
Tuesday, May 02, 2006
Maturity. If only it was a tangible thing. To what do we measure maturity ? Is it the coming of age? Or the going of ignorance? Is there even a yardstick for it to be compared against?
Certain things have got me thinking. haha, by now, I think you should surmise that everytime I say "certain things have got me thinking" , it means I'm about to contradict myself greatly, boggle your minds, and well, get myself thinking again..
Anyways, mum was telling me about this girl whose boyfriend's mother is well, posessive. By that, I mean he's what we call 'mummy's boy'. Well, if there's something I can't stomach, it's gotta be that. I don't know why, but seriously, enough of all that baby-ing already. Every mum has to let go some time, so let go already. Come on, boys/guys/males need to learn how to be independant. They need to explore, they need their own space so that they'll learn how to live. Without mama.
Besides, how young is young? And how old is old? Is there even a line between childhood and adulthood? Do we even realise when we cross that line? Sometimes I really wonder. How old must one be before he/she can be involved in a relationship? 20? 30? 15? Who are we to tell someone whether or not they're ready? I've personally known people in real life who want to lay down age limits for when their kids should start seeing somebody. I mean, in all fairness, if those age limits are reasonable, then it's alright. But sometimes, people lay down super-out-of-this-world stuff. I mean, we can't exactly take out a planner and mark down .....
2. Grow up
3. Get career
5. Fall in love
6. Get married
Well, heck. Some things in life can't be planned. They just....happen. In my opinion, as long as both parties are mature enough to handle their own problems and be able to bear responsibilities, then who are we to tell them yes or no? To each his own. But then again, who am I to say? Aren't I the cynic who so readily scoffed at the mention of the word 'love' ? Aren't I the one who believes that 'happily ever after' only exists in fairy tales ? Aren't I the one who is spoiling for a debate when someone tells me that 'forever' exists? Have I 'mellowed' or am I just seeing a different perspective this time around...
Every little girl dreams of a nice, big, fairy-tale wedding. Do I ? Well, no. Honestly. I think extravangant weddings are exactly that. Extravagant parading of something not believable. Weddings should be a private affair. After all, isn't it a bonding of two individuals who wish to be one? Why then should a million other people be involved? Not to mention a million bucks along with it. Isn't it a tad no,more than a tad sinful to splurge and indulge in something ethereal and not guaranteed when there are so many others out there who are more in need of the money? It's called charity for a cause. Not some gala attended by a hundred thousand influential people where checks are passed around with all the pomp and panache of rarity. True charity is when a little boy donates $5 of his pocket money to help a baby with a hole in the heart. True charity doesn't need spotlights and publicity to shine. Same goes to 'love'. True love doesn't need gardens of flowers and yards of silk and lace, and free-flowing champagne and a twenty feet cake, to shine. It's something we can't see. Because you can't create true love, you can't coerce it, it's inside you. It can't be seen, it must be felt. I think it's near impossible to find love that is reciprocated. Maybe that's because I'm a realist. Maybe because I'm a coward. Maybe because I don't want to be dissappointed, so I bury myself in untruths. Maybe I turn cynical because I want to convince myself I'm right, and shut out all doubts. Maybe I don't want to hope. I don't want to fall. I don't want to bleed. Then again, they say, if you've never tasted bitterness, then you'll never know what sweetness is....sigh, I hate contradictions.
Who are we, mere outsiders to judge others? I hate to be judged and therefore, I try my damndest not to judge. I think judging somebody else based on what others say or what pictures others paints just reflects on your own ineptitude and stupidity. Substantial proof of someone's character will in time make itself apparent. Why speed up the natural process and start making wrong assumptions? To assume is to make and A-S-S out of U and M-E. So let's not be donkeys and stick as humans instead.