Scatteredfafa

The world is vast beneath me. The awareness that I'm just a speck in the universe hightens yet I feel much more alive and seen than I've ever felt. I stretch my wings wide as the fast wind ruffles through my feathers, urging me to leap off the tallest building in the world and trust my wings will carry me somewhere and my heart will soar. Do I trust the wind? Do I trust my wings? Do I trust the place I'm going? Would trust be enough? I turn my head around and squint my small eyes against the torrent of the wind, just enough time for courage to dissipate and self doubts barges in. Do I really need to do this now? What if I can't do it? What if I fall? Suddenly I can't breathe. My heart's drumming in more fear with each deafening beat.  I close my eyes and take a deep breath, trying to push the fear down. It is now or never. I will always be afraid, it will still be scary the next time, but each time I survive the jump, I will be braver and stronger. I lift one le...

I have arrived again at a crossroad. The arrow signs are crooked and unwieldy. My compass has gone haywire and I can feel the invisible tugs coming from every direction. A choice has to be made, but my heart is heavy and my legs refuse to take another step forward nor backward. It's a strange predicament to be in. Knowing the sky is the limit but yet struggling to fight off the feeling of being chained and restrained. I've been standing at the same intersection for some time, trying to calm the nerves that frizzled at every bird that flutters past and to hold on to hope that dwindles at every light that dims. Time flies, ignoring my silent hopeless pleas of stopping just for me, a wretchedly lost girl.  And so I come, to the comfort of words, to listen to my heart. I've come back to swim in the swirl of my thoughts. I shall now sit and listen at the crossroad. Soon, I'll see my path and walk it with faith. 

As someone who gets taunted at night by the ghost of past mistakes, a lot, I'm writing this on a bright sunny afternoon with a clear conscience, to remind you and myself that we are not our past. We get to evolve, we get to be someone new and better.  We all have those moments when we turn around and briefly look again at the past. Sometimes it can start with something small like spilling coffee, and we start travelling to the bad parts of the past. If we don’t stop it, we will find ourselves stumbling through the rabbit hole, landing in the underground archive of our mistakes and regrets in life. Ornaments from an embarassing thing we said, souvenirs from broken friendships. We’re no Alice, there’s no ‘Eat me’ cake or ‘Drink me’ potion to save us into finding a way out. We will be left a crumpled mess, too absorbed in self-pity to realise we fit through the door to leave afterall. But we can leave, and we'll get better and faster at finding the way out.

In a blink of an eye, there are only 4 months left to another new year.  I would like to first congratulate all of us for surviving. Survival has been the ultimate goal these two years. Despite the many disappointments and regrets over what-could-haves, I am immensely grateful to be alive. I'll leave the more thoughtful and tear-jerking 'essay' reflecting the year in December, I just want to whip up something short about my thoughts and feelings on these past 8 months. The first 3 months was me being burned out and busy with moot competition. People say, "To do one thing that scares you every year", I've gotten that out of the way early on. They were dark days filled with anxiety and nervousness. Surprisingly in the midst of it all, I still had a lot of fun. It's the first time in many years that I finally allowed myself to relax over studying and not to punish myself too hard. I'm really glad I took that leapt to step out of my comfort zone, even thou...

Imagine this: You're in the library, expecting to get some work done in peace and quiet, undistracted. Then two girls sitting infront you start whispering. You tell yourself it's okay, everyone talks sometimes, maybe they're just discussing questions for awhile. You're an understandable person. But soon you realised they're not. Snorts of laughter ensues, and few other friends join in. The raucous doesn't seem to be stopping soon. It's you against them, what do you do?  It's morning. You had a rough night overthinking or doing work, but it's a new day and you woke up determined to make it a better day. You plan to have a good hearty breakfast but as soon as you appear in the kitchen, your parents start to complain about everything in this world or tell you about their friends. You're usually interested, but not today, not this early hour. You've tuned out, but the sound is still there, loud and banging. I have many other examples of situation...

Healing is a process. Self love, a relationship with yourself is like any other relationships, it's not perfect and sometimes a turbulence hits.  I've just realised that these few days, I have not been true to myself and it has caused me to relapse. I don't know where my mind went, I wasn't conscious. Doing things that I don't want to do and being a pathetic beta. Let's call her out shall we.  Few nights ago, a group of friends of mine wanted to have a call, I didn't really want to but I went anyways. I was quiet the whole time, I felt even lonelier than being alone. I've never known how to end or leave a call, and so I stayed on, and I hated myself for that so much. It's not their fault. I wanted to be part of their group. I messed up my own sleep schedule and neglected my own feelings, and ended up being really angry at myself. The old me wouldn't have done that, the old me cared about me. I need to believe that I'm good enough that people ...

I've wanted to learn many musical instruments in my life, but I'm not good at any of them. Music has never been my forte. I cannot even sing. I can never remember lyrics or the tune or pitch, anything that makes the song, a song. My sister always says that I ruin the song for her after listening to me singing it. Well at least she'll laugh when she listens to that song now.  I don't have the voice of an angel. That's fine, but I don't have the fingers for music either. Tragic. Or maybe I'm just lazy and impatient.  My parents have always wanted us to have the opportunities they didn't have when they were younger. Hence, the typical ballet, piano, swimming lessons etc; but I was inelegant for ballet; Piano never interested me; Swimming? Young me preferred to drown, thank you.  The first musical instrument I've ever touched was a green colour guitar at a club in Pulau Tioman when I was 6. (Amazing how I can remember what that guitar looked and felt lik...

Before the pandemic, I used to wake up at 4am. I was very much deeply entangled in the 'Hustle Culture' (Which drove me crazy, but this is a story for another day). But because of the depressive state of being in a pandemic and a competition which required me to stay up late, my sleep schedule has gone into disarray and  I have turned into a perpetually yawning sloth. It made me feel horrible and great at the same time. Being sleepy must be one of the greatest pleasure in life. It's equivalent to being drunk to me. I'd confess to crimes I didn't do when I'm sleepy.  Anyways, I still like mornings better. Sleeping in makes me feel irresponsible and days seem ridiculously shorter. I don't want to waste my youth on sleeping, I get to do that when I die. And of course, sleeping and waking up earlier is essential to be in the pink of health. I'm happy to say that I'm back to a sleep pattern that I like. I've gotten this idea to write this because my f...

I'm in a dilemma. Well, my own dilemma caused by personal overthinking. The story is as such. I have a friend who came to ask me how often do I talk to my sister (I call her Sissy). Surprisingly at that exact same time, I was just telling Sissy about the ugly hoodie my other sister (I call her Salini) has bought. The video call lasted for about 3 hours, and when I was done, I came back to my friend's 38 messages telling me about how upset she is about her sister. A summary of it is basically, she misses her sister but she thinks her sister doesn't love her as much as she does. I don't really know her sister and I don't think it's true, but I know the only person who can verify and make her feel better is her sister. 心病终须心药治 解铃还须系铃人.  Why do I find this very distressing? Because I'm very tempted to intervene. I'm just chaotic in the way that I don't want to just provide comfort to people, I want to go all the way brainstorming and solving the issues p...