Becoming December-me

It's strange. Everything is strange right now.

Being socially inept has never been such an issue for me until recently. There is this person that I want to be, this friendly, social, fun person - but I don't know how to be that person.

I'm not social, I'm not friendly. I'm fun, but mostly I'm fun on my own, or in small groups. I'm needy and pushy and stubborn. I'm overbearing, and loud and headstrong. I nag, I mother, I'm indecisive and I'm stingy. I don't know how to strike up a conversation or join one. I don't know how to keep up a conversation with a stranger or get away from one.

I know we're not born with these skills. I know it's something we learn in time and some people are better at it than others. I just wish I had more practice.

I guess I can start now.

Work is great. I'm learning a lot about digital media and journalism. I'd like to think I've made some friends.

Conversations are not easy though. I find that I don't have much to contribute. I don't know nor do I particularly care about American politics, local politics makes my blood boil and I don't like reading the news, it's way too sad. On top of that, my relatively inactive social life means that I don't have much to talk about at all.

I want to change that but also, I don't want to do what I don't like just so I can be less socially awkward. It's a weird battle in my head. However, I'm optimistic. I'm know I'm trying and I will keep trying. I just need to relax and be patient. December-me will be very different from January-me, I'm sure.

I've also been rereading my old blogposts - a trip down memory lane. I love reading my old writings. Sometimes I cringe at how bad my writing was or if I notice any grammar mistakes, oooor if I was being particularly annoying; but mostly, I enjoy reminiscing - it's like reading old notes to myself. I'm reminded of the promises I've made and goals I've laid out, reminded of the lessons I've learnt and big 'Aha!' moments that felt life changing.

I've come a long way. And this is why I know December-me will be very different. I will be a changed person for sure. I'm going to add more goals and reminders here:

1. Write more - it's good for your soul, and it makes you think and introspect, which is also great for your soul.
2. Put yourself out there in the world - don't be afraid of contributing ideas even if you think it's silly
3. Be patient - listen with an open mind and take a deep breath before you speak when you're upset because many things cannot be unsaid.
4. Try harder to meditate - you know it helps you focus, so try harder to do it
5. Read more - pick an hour of your day and do some reading, a novel, an article or two, whatever it is, just get some new information into your brain every day...and think about it. Thoughtful, not mindless, reading. 
6. Do not try so hard to fit in - you are you and you may not act or react normally but that's ok, it's what makes you unique.
7. You can retain your child-like wonder and joy without being a child - when you stop thinking of yourself as a child, the world will follow your lead.

To future-me who will inevitably read this post one day, I hope these little notes stuck to you (or me). For the ones that didn't, we can start now. 

Not So Blue Hair

Ok. I've been harping on about wanting blue hair for a while now. The first time I tried it, the dye didn't work well and I ended up with greyish green, almost black, hair. So, that was a bummer.

But now, the Manic Panic dye that I ordered from Amazon finally arrived! The colour I chose was Blue Moon. It's bright, blue and beautiful. It's the exact shade of blue that I want.

Here's what the catalog looks like.

Cool, right??

To make sure that the colour stands out, I know taht I have to bleach my hair. And I did. Twice. I bleached once to brown and again, about a week later, to a golden brownish colour. I stopped there because I thought it was light enough. The blue is so bright and it should go well on my hair.

I was wrong, of course. I needed to bleach my hair to a pale yellow if I want the blue to be as blue as it is in the picture. So I was a little disappointed by that. By not having blue.

Instead of blue, I have green. Green hair. Which makes sense since the blue was applied to brown hair (I think it makes sense). And I actually like this green. It's a dark, lively sort of green. Not dead grass green. It actually looks like a green of another colour of Manic Panic dye, Enchanted Forest.

I really like this green. I still want blue hair someday but I'm sticking with this green now because I really like it. It looks like an anime character's hair.

I'll update this with a photo once I take a good one. :)

*Update (14/1):

The colour is kinda visible. It's fading a bit now. The green is slowly becoming less enchanted forest, more army green. Which is still very pretty.

Wanted: Excitement and Intrigue

I have no idea what life is right now.

I feel lost, unsure, insecure. I feel slow, heavy, jaded.

I had dinner with a friend yesterday and we spent a a few hours just talking. I haven't seen him in a while so there was lots to talk about. For him, at least. So much had happened to him and so many things were happening to him and we spent all that time just talking about every single thing I had missed in his life. And them more time on every single thing that he was looking forward to, things he had planned, the way he's grown as a person.

But when the conversation turned to me, I had nothing to say. There was nothing new to report. The time that had elapsed since we last talked was filled with monotony and dull, daily living for me. There was no intrigue or excitement. There were no new experiences and no upcoming exciting experiences to look forward to. Everything was just so boring. And I don't mean that I'm bored (though I sometimes am) or that life was boring (though it sometimes is). I just mean that I have not done anything worth talking about at all. I have not gone through anything worth sharing and I have nothing even remotely stimulating to talk about in terms of my life.

Am I that person now? Is this what my life has become? I am the boring friend. I am the jaded one who just sits and latches on to other people's stories as they tell them because it's so much more exciting than my own.

I never wanted to be this and I never thought I would be, but here I am.


But the question is, am I inherently this person? Or is this just something we all have to handle sometimes? Is it one of those many phases of life?

I sure hope so. I hope it's a phase.

I don't want to be stuck like this forever.

I want some excitement. I want to go out and get it.

But where do I begin?

I used to be really good at coming up with titles

Sometimes I get this sudden and overwhelming feeling of anxiety about the future.

I begin to worry about getting a job, getting a house, work shoes. I worry about what I'd be like and whether I'd be able to get more tattoos and what if my current tattoos prevent me from getting a job. I worry about even finding a job. I worry about the future need to get a new laptop, about new clothes and a new bras. I worry about what life will be like and what the world will be like. I worry about who my friends will be and if the current friends I have will still be around. I feel anxious.

All this worrying happens for like 3 minutes and then I go back to being unperturbed.

I think there's a word for this feeling but I can't seem to find it.

Anyway, moving on. I have a meeting with my thesis supervisor this week. I'm really excited about it but I'm also a little nervous. I have a rough idea of what I want my topic to be but I've not done much research on it yet and I'm wondering if I should. I mean, I know that the first few conversations that I will have with my supervisor is going to revolve around refining my topic, but wouldn't it be amazing and totally productive if I went in for this meeting well prepared?

The answer is yes, of course it would.

I have a paper due on Thursday. I should finish writing it tomorrow so I can start some thesis research. I don't want to let my supervisor down and I want this thesis to be well thought out and well written. It's not impossible and I will do it.

So, decision made. I will do some research before the meeting so I can have a productive conversation with my supervisor.

Also, if I get some research done now, I can put aside thesis work in October and focus on assignments instead. I have like, 6 assignments due that month. It'll be the month when I feel like the white rabbit from Alice in Wonderland. Once every semester.

Ok.

That's all. I just really wanted to write down how I sometimes feel about the future. But then the words started flowing and here we are. This worrying thing has happened 2-3 times this past couple of weeks. That's more than usual and it's kind of freaking me out.

We are made of star-stuff

 On this episode of Kath's Journey in Philosophy: We are made of star-stuff!

We were still talking about reality in class today. Somehow, we got around to talking about what we're made of. We watched Neil deGrasse Tyson's TIME interview that is on YouTube. He said we are made of the universe, and the universe is made of us. We are composed of the same basic elements that the universe is made of. We originated from that same central moment of the beginning of everything. So when we look up into the sky and see what we can of the universe beyond Earth, we don't have to feel small because we are the universe. Everything that is in those stars and planets is in us as well.

Our lecturer also talked about the Hadron Colliders in Cern and Buffalo. An experiment was conducted on two subatomic (maybe?) particles, one at each location. I really don't know the technicalities or science behind it so I'm not going to explain it. Not yet. I'll keep reading because I still don't understand. BUT, the point is, that the two particles 'resonated' with each other and it brought up the possibility that every particle is connected; that all energy is somehow connected.

When I put those two ideas together in my head, I was exhilarated. I was so moved. We are made of the same basic elements (which is obvious but not exciting until you really put some thought into it) and we (quite probably) all resonate with each other on a subatomic level. We are so intricately connected in more ways than one.

I cannot even begin to express how much this blows my mind.

I turned to Li Huan who was sitting next to me to tell him how amazed I was and I teared up.

That's how much.

Imagine if we all knew this, if we all accepted that this is entirely possible - that everything in us hails from the same, one moment in time, and that all the particles in us resonate as one. Imagine that. Once that becomes our truth, how can there be any hate? How can there be anything less that acceptance, care and understanding. How can there be anything less than love and eternal connectedness (not a word?)?

When I looked at Li Huan and I tried to articulate my excitement, I felt so connected to him. I felt connect to him and everyone around me in a way that I've never felt before. We were one.We are one. Every part of my being is essentially the same as every part in his being.

You know when you find someone who has the exact same pencil case that you have and you're like, "Duuude! We have the exact same pencil case! That is so awesome!" and you are genuinely excited; you feel this instant connection with that person because you found that first common ground, that feeling of pure joy and unity that strikes you so suddenly. That is what I felt but on a much larger, more primal and universal scale.

YOU AND ME ARE ONE.

And that is the most exciting, mind-blowing and (hopefully) life changing moment I have ever had the pleasure to experience.

Unhappiness is the ultimate form of self-indulgence

At one point in my life, I thought I could be more than just a statistic. I thought I could be a person who is more than just another person. I thought that maybe I could be smarter than the average person or really talented in one thing, perhaps ambitious and successful, maybe even funnier than most people. However, the older I get, the more I feel like those things are never going to happen.

I don't feel talented. I know I'm not ambitious. I definitely cannot make a living out of being funny.

What I feel is this: I am nothing more than a statistic. I am not an anomaly, I am not an exception. I am merely average and I am not more.

Now, I don't think there's anything wrong with being average. Some people live for being average. Most people don't even think about it and that is why they are average. But me, I don't want to be average. I want to be special. I want to be different. I value difference.

But I'm not. I can study and be smarter, sure, but not exceptionally smarter. I can keep painting and getting better but I don't know that I'll ever be able to make it my life's work.

And on the other hand, I believe that with hardwork and patience, I can be anything I can. I can be exceptional and incredible.

Then I go back to feeling like I can't do any of those things. It's a cycle, you see. And I need to find a way to get out of it.

And then I think about this quote I saw online: 

You make mistakes because you’re focusing on the target and not on your actions - a person's archery trainer

It makes sense to me, with a little adjustment. I feel lost because I'm focusing on the target (who I want to be) and not on my actions.

I have to stop thinking about all the things I want to be but feel I can't and start focusing on what I'm doing right now to get wherever that is not here.

I have to start doing.

I have to take control of my life and my behaviour and do what I want to do to be the person that I want to be. I cannot depend on anyone else to do it for me.

Here's another appropriate quote:
But I can't move the mountains for you - Mumford & Sons

Finally, this:
When you’re unhappy, you get to pay a lot of attention to yourself. And you get to take yourself oh so very seriously. Your truly happy people, which is to say, your people who truly like themselves, they don’t think about themselves very much. Your unhappy person resents it when you try to cheer him up, because that means he has to stop dwellin’ on himself and start payin’ attention to the universe. Unhappiness is the ultimate form of self-indulgence. - Tom Robbins

I have to remember this. One of those light bulb moments that, in hindsight, is totally obvious.

I remember the times when I'm happy. And in those moments, I don't see myself. I remember what's around me, the people, the emotions. I was so happy and it didn't matter that I was focused on other people.

When I'm sad, I'm so engrossed in my own issues and my own agenda that I don't see other people. I forget to remember them or pay attention to the world around me.

Is it that unhappiness makes me self indulgent or does self indulgence make me unhappy?

I supposed I'll have to figure it out on my own.

I have to go out there and do things. Read and learn and do things because I know it will make me happy.

Paper Towns, My Margo and Salty Fries.

I just read Paper Towns. It's a really good read. I've also recognised a pattern in John Green books, a pattern that is further corroborated by Paper Towns.

Paper Towns, specifically, goes something like this. Young man; nerdy, socially inept, life not fully lived. Young woman ; lost, damaged, confident, flamboyant and elegant, beautiful to the young man. He falls in love from a far. She teaches him how to be more than himself. She disappears. He grieves. He finds her. She leaves. They realise just how much more they have become because of each other, and because of themselves. Then they move on without each other.

Margo Roth Speigelman. I imagined her just like Quentin did. The Margo I know is not the real Margo. The idea I have of her is who I want to be. Not the real Margo, though. I don't want to be her. I thought I did. Because, like Q, I was engulfed with the idea of this paper girl and who I thought she was. As I neared the end of the book, I realised how wrong I was. My Margo was just another mirror. (Though sometimes I think I can come pretty darn close to being the real Margo).

My Margo. The wanderlust and the need to leave. To go somewhere new and be someone new, but doing it in a way that doesn't include ripping myself away from everything and everyone I love like a BandAid. The Margo who organises TP'ing campaigns and who explores abandoned buildings just to sit in them. That Margo. I am not brave enough to be that Margo.

What about the real Margo Roth Speigelman? I think she felt trapped. She felt unreal and she needed a new place to find herself. A new place to set roots in, only to feel trapped again and leave for another new place (like Q said). Constantly lost Margo.

But then again, we're all lost, are we not? At some point in every persons life, they feel lost. Some decide to un-lose themselves and accept the lives they have in the predictable path that's been laid out for them. These people decide to find themselves in routine and normalcy, thoroughly okay with fact that their lives will forevermore be nothing but routine and 'normal'. They'd embrace their true calling to live as just another statistic.

And others, others cannot bear to let themselves remain un-found and lost so they end up embracing the unplanned, the thrilling void of unknowing and adventure. They dive head first into nothingness and everything-ness because that is so much better than routine. It's just so much more.

I want to be the one who embraces adventure. I want to be the one who hops from town to town, always looking, never settling, knowing that the planning is what keeps me going more than the destination ever can. But eventually, I also want to be the one who embraces monotony and predictability. Can I be both? Or must I be neither?

Also, why do I even want to know these things?

***

On a side note, I was craving for french fries a few days ago. I really wanted some good potato fries. I wanted a combination of salty, skinny McD fries and fat, potatoey Carl's Jr. fries. I tried to satisfy this craving by make pumpkin fries but I failed miserably and ended up intensifying my craving for the regular potato variety.

A few days later, I woke up and I didn't want fries anymore. I mean, I wouldn't decline fries if someone offered me some but I definitely wasn't craving them.

It got me thinking about how temporary that was; the craving for something, anything. I wanted it so badly only a few days ago but now, I don't even think about it.

However, this over analysing of my craving for fries and the subsequent non-craving for said fries may just be a result of over-spill from processing Paper Towns and wanting to be my Margo Roth Speigelman.

Right now, I want fries again.

*Insert A Witty Title About Brushstrokes*

Someone once told me to make a list of what I like to do and do it.

It took me a while, but I've started painting. Not regularly, though. I paint when I'm bored or just really feel like creating.

That's what I did today.

I used to think that painting (or creating) was therapeutic. Making things with my hands, watching things come together, art; I thought that it would make me feel better, and happier because I was making something out of stuff that are basically nothing on their own. That's the general idea, isn't it? When we say art therapy, we expect some sense of release and relief. We expect to be better off than when we started. I know now that I was wrong.

Today is my day off and I didn't want to read biopsych so I decided to paint instead.

I was relatively cheery these past 2 days. Everything seemed funnier and brighter. So when I picked up my paint brush and unscrewed the lids off my tiny paint bottles, I was expecting to feel even better at the end of the process; happier and a lot less bored.

The first page was nonsense. Just colours... not even nice colours. After that, I painted a cat silhouette. Then a ram. Then the TARDIS (which I ruined with a badly painted quote). I continued with a few other things.

Throughout the painting process, I suddenly felt lighter but darker. At first I didn't get it. I definitely didn't feel bored anymore, but I didn't know what else I felt.

Once I painted my last thing of the day, I laid back and started to think.

I wasn't bored anymore. I had worked that restless energy off. But I wasn't happier. In fact, I was less happy than when I started. I felt a little gloomier, sadder. And I didn't understand. Why did painting and creating make me feel so sad? It was supposed to do the opposite.

I kept thinking about it.

And then it hit me. Art didn't suddenly reverse it's effect. No. Art did exactly what it has always done. It stripped away my shell. With each brush stroke, I let my guard down. As I completed each painting, one more brick was removed.

Art revealed my core. It took everything away - the mask and the defense systems - and left me with the harsh reality of what I was really feeling. The sadness and the gloom. I was forced to face my waves. Apparently, I wasn't actually as happy as I thought I was. I mean, I know that I wasn't exactly chirpy and completely content. I guess I just didn't want to face the amount of 'sad' I have in me right now.

In hindsight, this is not all that surprising. I was putting on a mask and it worked well enough for me to ignore the tiny slivers of grey creeping through. I just laughed a littlelouder and smiled a little bigger to block it all out. Everything got ripped away when I started painting, though.

I won't say I feel better now but I know that I feel less fake. I suppose that's all that matters, really. Being real with myself.

Let's hope I'm better at being 22 than I was at being 26

I wonder why the new year is such a big deal? Fireworks, parties, resolutions. I see why it may be a big deal for school going people since a new year usually means new subjects, perhaps new teachers. But what about working adults? The first day of this year was a Wednesday. A normal Wednesday. They didn't go to work. But then they did on Thursday. So what's the fuss? I don't know, man, but I sure as hell was excited about it!

For me, new year means a new semester at university. The second semester of my second year. In about a year and a half, I'll be done with this. Incredible. I remember starting out and thinking to myself that three years is a hell of a long time to be studying again. I was wrong.

The new year also makes me think of my impending birthday anniversary. 22 years ago (minus about a months and a half), I was born. Imagine that. Or maybe don't. I get really nervous every time my birthday approaches. Honestly, I spent at least half my waking hours yesterday feeling all nauseous and anxious over turning 22.

It's always struck me as odd that I feel nervous. I mean, why wouldn't I be excited? I'm getting older, people are more likely to take me seriously. Also, the older I get, the more control I have over my own life and my decisions. I should be happy, excited. Instead, I'm happy and anxious. All that responsibility.

Also, I can't seem to imagine myself being any age other than what I am right now. Questions like, "Where do you see yourself in 5 or 10 years?" don't work with my brain because I don't see it as me, aged 5 years older and in the future. What I see when I try to answer the question is me right now time travelling to five years in the future, pretending to know what I'm doing and behaving in the exact way me-right-now would.

I don't know what I'd be like in five years. I don't even know if I'll be alive or have the same number of limbs; how am I supposed to know what I'd be doing with my life in that time?

So yea, birthdays make me nervous. Mostly because I have no idea what the next year of my life will bring me or how I'll will have changed by the end of it. Actually, now that I think of it, I'm also nervous because of the whole responsibility thing. I mean, c'mon, who thought it'd be a good idea to let me grow up and have a set of my own car keys and control of my own bank account?

I want to be able to handle myself well. But I also want to never let go or forget the little kid inside of me. Birthdays are just another way of celebrating the addition of another horrendously boring and routine layer of adulthood over the fun and simplicity of childhood. I have to make sure I build in a giant doorway into those layers so I can access the fun whenever I want to.

Anyways, Happy New Year :)

Band Girl

Well look at that. It's been more than a month.

This semester is finally over, thank God. It's been quite a long semester, relatively speaking. I was quite ready to flop on the floor by the end of week 8. But of course, I couldn't. I had 14 weeks altogether to get through. 201 was fun. I learnt a lot and Ms. Winnee was a great lecturer. 209 was ok. I didn't participate in class as much as I should have but I did enjoy the class. I can't say the same for Malaysian Studies, though. That was horrible, as expected. I'm just glad to be done with it (I won't know for sure til I get the results but I think I passed. SO, NO MORE!). 205 was interesting. Engaging, to say the least. Dr. Chua tried very hard to help us change the way we think; going from always finding the correct answer to opening our mind to the possibility of multiple answers that are neither right nor wrong. She had me wishing that all teachers would adopt her method of educating.

School aside, things have been ok. I've not been thinking very much but I think I'm heading there. I've started reading again too. Yes, it's been a little bit of a struggle. Dan Brown's Inferno was no issue but the sixth installment to the Hitchhikers Guide is a little harder. I'm reminding myself to read it whenever I have nothing else to do (which is a lot of the time now that I'm on break). Mama bought me quite a few books from the sale recently so I have a bunch more books to read. I still have the ones from last year too. That's one of the the goals I've set for myself this semester break. Read more.

The others are; make perfect caramel sauce, snail mail christmas cards, make macaroons and paint more (specifically: make typography posters but I think I'll widen that to just any kind of painting).

I've made caramel sauce. It came out a little thicker than I wanted so I'm going to have to do that one again. The thick caramel is pretty good so I'm going to save it for the center of my macaroons if I ever manage to make them. Or I might just eat it plain.

I'm not going through the rest of the list because that would be immensely boring. Instead, I'm going to state something I've learnt about myself. I like bands. Yes, this may seem a little obvious to others but I've only just realised this. the kind of music I like is usually band stuff (not boy band). I like Simple Plan, Yellowcard, Coldplay, Linkin Park. I like the collaboration of many instruments and styles and just music by bands. The only solo artist I can confidently say I like is Ed Sheeran. His music is beautiful and I'd listen to his entire album on repeat, no issue. His voice is just amazing and the songs he write are incredibly poetic. But then there are bands who rock out and sing about everything under the sun, both silly and emotionally draining. So yeah, I'm definitely a band girl. :)

OH also! We're going to Singapore this weekend! I'm really excited! I've never been there so I'm looking forward to it! On the down side, there'll be a disruption to the water supply tomorrow and possibly the following few days as well. I am prepared for stinky.

Quote I found in the book I'm currently reading (though I think the author took it from somewhere else):
For every action, there will be an equal and opposite reaction.

Let Your Subconscious Speak!

Righto, time for another post.

I am happy today:)

I had a dream two nights ago and I feel really good about it because I think I understand myself a little more. Dreams, according to Freud, are the "royal road to the unconscious". The foundation of Freudian psychology is the unconscious mind and how we, humans, are driven to behave the way we do by our unconscious mind which is regulated by our conscious and subconscious minds. When we dream, our unconscious mind takes over and it incorporates things from our life, both conscious and subconscious. So Freud felt that analysing and interpreting dreams would be a good way to tap into your unconscious mind. 

I agree, somewhat cautiously, with Freud. When we're thinking about something a lot, we tend to dream about it. When we have a problem and we decide to 'sleep on it', our subconscious works to solve it and sometimes that process manifests itself in the form of dreams. We then wake up with this revelation, the sudden light bulb idea which isn't sudden at all because your brain has been working on it while you were asleep.

So this dream taught me a few invaluable lessons. There were subplots in my dream too but that's not important right now. 

Let's get to the point, shall we.

This dream I had involved things and people from my life as well as stranger elements like a big and clinically white room. I won't recount the dream here but the essence of it was this: I was presented with something I had always been afraid of and that something taught me to: 1. Not be afraid of it anymore because my reasons for being afraid of it were stupid, 2. what I want is not what I always thought I wanted, and 3. it then showed me what I actually do want. The details are irrelevant. 

This lesson came in the form of a person. This person showed me that what I always dreamt of having is not really what I want. All the amazing adventures and excitement, all the crazy fun and all the passion is not what I'm actually craving for. What I want is serenity, gentle love and calm reassurances. As much as I love the idea of a wild west blockbuster Parisian romance, what I really want is the complete opposite. What I want is my own Freddie Page without the drama and commitment issues.

All this time, I was misguided by my own head. I kept imagining incredible adventures with people I love and I've done that so often that I convinced myself it's what I want. I told myself that this is what I keep saying and thinking, therefore this is what I want.

I could not have been more wrong. And my brain decided to clear that up. Thank you, brain.

My subconscious took something I was afraid of (big, scary, too much to handle), put it in the form of a person and then proceeded to show me that I'm not actually afraid of big and scary; that I've been interpreting 'big' and 'scary' wrong all this time. Big and scary turned out to be the gentlest, kindest, most loving creature ever. And this creature then showed me that I wanted big in the form of gentle. I don't even know if that makes sense to anyone but me. 

I wrote the dream down because I want to remember it. The last line explains it perfectly: 

What I want is what he personified in my dream; the calm and comfort that love offers while being paradoxically imposing yet gentle.

I still think that's a bunch of the words swapped for synonyms based on what I wrote above but maybe it helps a little more with the understanding thing.

The whole point of this post is that I've discovered something about myself either by chance or by constant subconscious mulling. I don't know. Maybe both. Whichever it is, I know myself better and I'm better for it. This really made my day, or should I say 'days' since the dream was from two nights ago and I'm still cheery. 

I'm also caught up on my assignments so the only thing that's going to cause me stress is the Malaysian Studies trip but since there's no class tomorrow, I might even be in a great mood for that!

WOHOO!

I DID NOT CRY WOHOO!

THE TIME IS NOW!!

As you can probably tell with the capital letters, I can barely contain my excitement!

I am now, as mama says it, scarred for life. AND IT IS AMAZING!

I finally got myself tattooed! The quote, "I am not alone. I have my imaginary friends" is permanently etched into my skin with black ink.

Yes, it hurt a lot. Needles moving so fast that all you can hear is a buzz and it digging into your skin, embedding ink into your epidermis. I felt like it was vibrating really fast and it was really painful. But totally worth it.

My tattoo artist, Lina, was great. The font she found was beautiful and everything about it is wonderful. And she has beautiful tattoos as well. I can now fully appreciate all the pain a person goes through for a tattoo and lemme tell you, it is incredible. I take my hat off to anyone with a tattoo.

Having said that, I'm definitely going in for another. Not anytime soon, though. I want this one to heal completely first but I'm definitely getting inked again.

Anyways, here it is:

My hairiness is also very obvious but let's ignore that for now and focus on the ink. I AM THOROUGHLY EXCITED ABOUT IT!

Opening That Door.

What would you say or do if someone told you that they would like to know what goes on in your head? If they asked you to volunteer honest insights, not just on current events but on anything at all, would you do it?

Would it scare you to let the world into your head? Would it worry you what they might find or what you might have forgotten was in there all along?

I would be. Scared, that is. My head, my mind; it's my safe haven. The thought of letting people see it, even a glimpse, makes me shiver.

Yet that's what I might do. Might being the operative word.

A couple of friends told me that they'd like to know what goes on in my head. They want to know me better. They want me to share. And I do want to, but what they're asking is for me to talk about things I don't talk about to anyone but myself.

I think that's asking a lot. That's basically walking up to a politician and asking for the keys to the journals they wrote as a teenager. I don't know if I'm going to do it.

Part of me feels like it's about time I spoke my mind more and opened up to people. But another part of me, a seemingly bigger part, feels like I'm entitled to my privacy and should not give it up just because someone asked me to.

I really don't know what to do. I have not decided. Maybe I can share just a few things. Nothing grand, nothing big. Just tiny things in all honesty.

Dyou think that's reasonable?

Fulfill Your Own Prophecy, Why Don't You!

This week seems like it's going to be a relaxing one. The calm before the storm. I still have 3 group projects to complete but we're only really starting them all next week. So for now, I'm just sitting here, wondering what to do. I suppose I could study. And maybe watch more tv shows (I have quite a few to catch up on). OR, I could do what someone once told me to; make a list of things that I like to do and go do them.

I might attempt a little bit of everything. (Update: I did some chores and then watched half a season of Haven. Whooo!)

But first I want to talk about something.

(I'll be right back, the washing machine just beeped)

I'm back.

What I wanted to talk about is how everyday, we are faced with cruel reminders of things we cannot have. I'm not talking about an iPad or a BMW. When I say things, I mean love, peace, understanding from that one person who means the world to you. You cannot always have these things.

Sometimes, you come so close only to find out that you will only ever be able to see it, but never have it.

I feel like this sometimes. I think and rethink and overthink. I get sad and I get angry. And then I realise that I should use these reminders as motivators. The universe says I can't have that? Fine then. I'll get something else, just as good or maybe even much better.

Because there's no use moping around, being sad that I didn't get what I felt I needed. Moping will not solve any of my problems. It will not get me to where I want to go. So basically, turn that frown upside down. You attract what you believe in and practice. Essentially, it's a self fulfilling prophecy.

There's a line in my social psych textbook that I really like. It says, "To strengthen our convictions, it helps to enact them. In this way, faith and love are alike; if we keep them to ourselves, they shrivel. If we enact and express them, they grow."

Little nuggets if wisdom from psychology textbooks.

I really like that line. It taught me a lot about this uncomfortable dissonance I've been feeling about my faith. I need to make a choice and stick to it. I need to be what I want to be. And that works with everything else too. If I want peace, I have to embody peace, I have to give it and show it. The same goes for love.

So that is what I will try to do.

One last thing, I woke up this morning to a beautiful message from a friend. He said he thought of me when he read this quote from Emilie Autumn's book, The Asylum for Wayward Victorian Girls:

"You," he said, "are a terribly real thing in a terribly false world, and that, I believe, is why  you are in so much pain."

That is the most beautiful thing anyone has ever said to me, as far as I can remember.

Ergggh.

Just as I was done proof-reading my last post, a few more thoughts popped into my head. Since I haven't been writing and sharing much information here, I decided that I might as well write them out.

Ironically, the first though was that writing really helps me gather my mind. As I've mentioned before, my mind races like a bunch of trains just crisscrossing, jumping from one track to another, changing directions and colour so fast that I sometimes end up just staring into blank space, trying to make sense of it all.

Writing helps me organise my thoughts. It helps me lay it all out and understand. When I write, I think. When I write, I feel better. I feel calmer. It's like I can finally see clearly and I know what my mind is telling me.

So yes, writing helps. Writing is good. NEVER STOP WRITING! When in doubt, write.

The other thing that I thought of was that I'll be turning 22 in a few months. 5 months to be exact! I can't really wrap my head around it. I haven't even gotten used to the idea of being 21. When I was 13, I thought 21 year olds were all mature. I thought they were wise and that they have it together. Boy, was I wrong!

Someone obviously forgot to deliver the manual on how to be 'all that' on my 21st birthday. I feel very much like I did when I was 13. The only difference is that I know a few more things about a few more things and that I can choose what clothes to wear. Everything else feels the same. I'm still terrible at socialising, I'm still stubborn as ever, I still don't know how to pay taxes, and I don't read the newspaper. So you can see why I might be a little edgy about turning 22. At this point in time, age really does feel like just a number. I sometimes have to remind myself that I'm 21. I am legally an adult. I don't feel like I'm 21, though.

Finally, I realised that I've been saying 'Oh my Lord!' a little too much. I'm annoying myself. I say out loud and I say it in my head almost all the time. I don't even know were I picked it up from. And there's this sing-songy tune that goes along with that phrase when I say it. Seriously, it is so annoying. I cringe every time I say it yet I cannot seem to stop saying it. That's cognitive dissonance, right there.

I need a new phrase to over-use.

"Ergggh!" is the main contender at the moment with "No, you don't understand!" coming in a close second.

I think I might go with "Ergggh!" because "No, you don't understand!" implies that no one else can understand what I'm feeling or thinking which is not true. That phrase might end up wearing off a lot faster than the current one. "Ergggh!" it is.

I shall condition myself to the new phrase.

Empathy, bro.

I should be working on my assignment right now but I'm here writing to you instead. I could say that I'm taking a break but let's be honest, I've been on a break for the past 3 hours and right now, I'm extending it. This is my version of procrastination.

I was thinking, you know how I don't really care about what other people may think of me except maybe a handful of people?

Well, I realised that somewhere along the way, I've added more and more people to that list. It's not that I care more about what these specific people think. No. It's just that I've started to worry about how other people may perceive me. I'm letting that get to me.

Now, I know that caring about how people see you is not necessarily a bad thing. I just don't want to be that person. I like being me and not having to live my life according to society's standards. I don't want to have to wake up in the morning and worry about how I look to other people. What I want is to be able to choose to put on eyeliner because I like how it looks.

So that's what I'm going to do. I shall place all anxiety in a box and place it as far away in my mind as possible. I don't want it and I will not let it dictate how I live my life.

Anywho, that assignment I should be working on; it's about counselling. Specifically, questioning skills. I really like the class. It's informative and very helpful not just to aspiring counsellors but to individuals. It makes you really think about how you respond to people, how you listen to them and how you react to them. I never knew that listening behaviour was so important.

Now, every time I'm speaking to someone or listening to a friend, I am acutely aware of my body language and theirs. I try to make sure I convey that I'm listening to them without actually saying, "HEY I'M LISTENING TO YOU". I pay attention to them, their eyes, body language. The greatest bit is that by just paying a little more attention to your conversational partner, you find that you actually have the ability to empathise.

Empathy is immensely important, I think , in any relationship. Being able to relate to a person and what they're going through is the best thing you can do to make them feel loved. You don't even have to provide a solution. Just listen to them, understand their point of view and pay attention.

During practices in class, I realised that being heard makes me feel a whole lot better. Sure, as counsellors, we want to guide people to solutions they already have in their minds. We want to help them grow and develop. We want to help. But as a friend, just a normal friend, you want to listen and empathise. seriously, that is golden in a conversation.

Now, I better get back to writing.

I have a full day tomorrow. I made a to-do list. Here's to hoping I will follow it!

Listen as the Clock Ticks

Even though this class is quite dull sometimes, Counselling Skills is one of the most helpful class I've taken so far in terms of practical applications.

Learning how to listen and empathise. Learning how to distance your personal views and opinions in order to fully comprehend where someone is coming from, their issue from their point of view.

I find myself consciously using these newly learned skills and techniques. I don't know if I'll ever use them in a professional setting but I do believe that this class is very helpful even in real life situations. I'm aware of my body language, my tone, my ability to track the story I'm being told. I make sure to maintain appropriate eye contact.

The downside to this is, however, that I'm suddenly much more aware of other people's body language and tone of voice. I'm becoming critical of how people respond when I'm speaking to them. I know that we all have our own styles in attending to a person but I feel like I can spot when someone is not exactly listening to me. I know when they don't care and when they're distancing themselves. All that kind of sucks.

***

I saw a bunch of my secondary school friends. I forgot how much I like spending time with them. We're a funny bunch of people. And to be honest, most of them grew up really well. Some strapping lads and stunning ladies they turned out to be.

I've never been one for keeping in contact with people. I'm not very good with birthdays and all but I am definitely glad that I still have them around. They make me laugh. We're all so different. Yet we're all the same; united under the same classroom.

***

Finally, I've actually been keeping to my to-o list, lately. I'm on track with my weekly readings and I'm pretty much in control of all my assignments. This is a little bit of a shock to me (which is why it warrants a mention) because I usually just end up with to-do lists scrawled on random bits of paper that I never follow anyway.

I feel organised and on top of things. I'm glad I've been able to do this. Now all I have to do it make sure I keep this up. I don't want to be falling into that deep pit of procrastination again, do I? The answer is, of course, no. 

Countdown:

27 days till Supernatural season 9

73 days till Doctor Who 50th Anniversary

11 days till my first assignment is due

2 days till the ERB assessment.

LISTS ARE ALWAYS HELPFUL!

Wandering Wonderer

I am wide awake. Therefore, I've been thinking.

I have no idea what I want to do with my life. Sure, I want a farm and a Psychology degree. But how do I get there? 2 more years till I get my degree. But what about the farm? How do I get there? What do I do right after my degree?

I have no idea. I do know that I don't want to spend more time studying. I know the importance of getting my masters but I do not want to get into it so soon. No. I've already spent 15 years studying and I have 2 more years ahead of me. I want a break.

But what do I do?

I cannot honestly choose a career path based on what little know? I mean, do I know what being a doctor is or what a therapist has to do?? I want to try things before deciding. I want to work in a vineyeard or a mill. Or both. I want to pick tea leaves and care for victims of war. I want to counsel children and tend to horses. I want to be a clerk and a cook.

I want to try everything I can. I want to discover the world. I want to figure out what interests me. Right now, I have no passion. Nothing really drives me.

That's the problem.

And I have no idea how to fix it.

At the moment, it seems like I'm headed to be coming a nomadic soul-searcher. That doesn't sound too bad, really.

Create

Once again, my brain is working faster than I can type. All these thoughts and emotions are bouncing around in my head at a speed that, I'm sure, is faster than either light or sound.

This coming Wednesday marks the end of my first year at uni. It's pretty exciting. One whole year of studying psychology. It's been great. I've made friends and I've learned so much. To think that I have so much more to learn! Human beings truly are remarkable creatures.

Sometimes, when I remember that I have to write a thesis in my 3rd year, I start to worry. I panic and even consider dropping everything. But then the next day, I go for class and I realise that when the time comes, I'll know what I need to know in order to write an A+ research manuscript. I don't feel so scared after that.

In the mean time, I'm oscillating between being annoying and being annoyed. Sometimes, I'm both. Interesting though humans may be, they're also extremely irritating. I find myself being frustrated by people so often, it's a wonder I don't explode. But then sometimes, I see people and I love talking to them and listening to their stories. To be honest, I prefer listening. I love stories. And I like being around people. They don't even have to speak; just being in the presence of another human being calms me down. And then again, there are moments when people are being people and I just want to be alone.

Anyway, while we're still on the subject of two extremes, I'm torn between being who I am and being who I want to be. I am opinionated, childish, and laid back (too laid back, according to my career counselor). I like who I am. I like being the opinionated, childish young lady who doesn't care about peoples perceptions of her. But then sometimes I feel like I want to be more mature and classy, more accessible, and have something to be passionate about. When I make an effort to be less childish, I feel like I'm living a lie. It's uncomfortable. Yet I want to be mature. That's a pickle if I've ever seen one.

For now, I'm going to keep to who I am and hope that maturity and wisdom comes with age. As for being more accessible; I will work on it on and off, when I feel like it. And passion, I've yet to discover one for myself. Some people have music, some love art, some can talk for hours about biology and politics. Then there's me. I feel very blank. I don't have a passion. Not really. There's not one thing I can talk about in detail, for hours on end (unless you count Harry Potter).

I don't have a clue as to what might interest me. I've never been naturally talented at one thing. My talent, I'd say, is being a quick learner. So I suppose what I need is to find one thing that I love doing and start doing it. But that's the whole problem. I like a lot of things. I like arts and crafts, I like making things with my hands, I like writing (but I know that I lack imagination), I like eating and I like baking. The thing is, I've never been able to just focus on one thing. I prefer doing it all in small amounts.

Also, since I'm more of a learner, I feel a little lost when I bake, paint or write without guidance. Kind of like I'm walking in the dark. I don't like not knowing what to do. So then, I just bake (write and paint) a little, once in a while, without trying too hard because I have no idea if I'm doing it right.

That reminds me of a quote. I cannot remember the exact words but the gist of it is this: once you let go of your fear of making mistakes, then your can create art. What I think it means is that I should not worry about mistakes, mistakes do not exist in art. Art is expression and expression is subjective. There are no mistakes in subjectivity. This reminds me of another quote; stop chasing perfection because it does not exist. I feel that applies to art as well, any kind of art. I just haven't been able to do that.

I suppose the moral is, I should just do what I enjoy without trying to be perfect. I should just create and create till my bones decay. I just need to find the right kind of art.

The Impossible Hazy Dream

It is weird. I used to be so confident that I'll be married someday. That I will find my soulmate and we will live a happy and fulfilling life together. I believed so strongly that I will have my own family and that I will live amazing moments with my husband.

Now, however, all I see are impossibilities. I don't see a man in my future. I don't see romance or even a family.

All I see are faded dreams and hazy company. No family. No love. Just dark and light and loneliness. Because I see now how foolish I have been to think, even for a second, that there is actual joy to be had in this world. Not the kind that I pictured, anyway.

The happiness I had imagined was just that, a distorted figment of ny mind. There is no such thing as a happy ending. There is only me. Me and my impossible hazy dreams.