Avoiding the World

We shook hands. We finally shook hands after about 4 or 5 times I've successfully avoided him in the course of a year.

A year! And I thought I could get away with it.

This time there was no more running away. No more place to run, because I wasn't at home. I didn't have my room, my haven, my magic little mousehole.

Smile and shake hands, I told to myself. Just smile and get ready for the ultimate question.

Oh, ARE YOU BACK FOR THE HOLIDAYS? 

I knew it. I knew it. He was going to ask this.

Back then, the question that I hated the most in college was "When are you going back home?" which was frequently asked before any short holidays. And the answer was always, well umm, "I'm not going back."

ARE YOU BACK FOR THE HOLIDAYS? is now officially my new most hated question.

>Sending a birthday wish to an old acquaintance:

Me: Happy birthday!

Old acquaintance: Thanks! Are you back for the holidays?

>Bumping into an old classmate's mum at a Sunday market (out of all places...)

Me: *smile*

Woman: OH YOU'RE BACK FOR THE HOLIDAYS??

>Seeing an old relative who I avoided for one year:

Me: *Shake hands* 

(Let's call him grandpa..): ARE YOU BACK FOR THE HOLIDAYS?

Then haha, of course I had to do some explanation. Did I tell you that the world doesn't like short answers? They're never satisfied with short answers!

Where are you now then?...

What course are you taking?...

What really happened?...

And I find my brain developing new theories about this person who I'm talking to. I analyse his face. I recall his past judgements. I weave all of these thoughts together like I'm weaving a traditional mat. Let's call this whole business as a mental presumption. 

I recall him sitting at one of the sofas in my home, talking about an uncle who is gay. Or who he assume is gay. I recalled how he made his theories about failed parenting, and I could sense the sneer in his voice as he said how gay this uncle is.

I recall him frequently asking about a failed marriage which occurred to someone close in my life. How he crafts his questions carefully to get answers but never providing anything beneficial. No advice, no nothing. All I ever heard was judgement by judgement. A thousand little hypotheses, zero solutions. Zero compassion.

I shook his hands. 

I still shook his hands.

But my mind was wandering.

She must've had a boyfriend.

She must've had too much fun.

She wasn't so bright after all.

She mixed with the wrong kind of people.

If he could sneer at a homosexual, if he could sneer at a marriage that failed, he could absolutely sneer at me.

And that's not important.

I thought those who spoke God's words, read God's words, and spread God's words ought to show compassion, but all that I'm seeing in this past one year is that what you show is not always what you practise. 

"Oh, come on, he's only human", you'd say.

Oh well yes he's only human and he fails just like I do.

But you get the gist here, don't you?

Forgive me if this sounds offensive, but here's what it is:-

This is why some people avoid the world.

This is why some people avoid the Church.

What have we done today, that made people shy away from accepting what we call God's grace?

I ain't no expert, and to be honest I haven't been talking much about what I've kept so long in my heart. But really, if we focused more on being a friend instead of merely evangelising to a friend, maybe people would see religion as something spiritual, and not just something about sneering at and correcting others.

I admit, I am a stubborn human being. I hate being corrected unless people correct me with a little pinch of compassion.

So I avoid the world, and I don't know when will I stop running.

I'd probably even bump into a relative 6 or 7 years from now and still find them asking me:-

"Which hospital are you working at??"

I promise I won't be shocked.

Hello darkness, my old friend, I've come to talk with you again...

27

Recognition

I was sitting in the middle row listening to my lecturer talking about 'recognition' and how being successful can make people admire you, praise your parents, and look at your possessions (brands of handbags were described in details) while pondering about how good it is to be you.

I was obviously annoyed.

If that is the definition of success, and if that is the sole purpose of being successful, then I'm afraid I don't want to be successful. 

What is life? What is success? Why do we chase it? Why do we spend so much to chase it? Why do we want to feel that sense of superiority? Why do we participate in the endless stupid game of trying to be the first in the list, to be the top among the rest, to feel the guilty satisfaction when we hear that we are in a better position compared to someone else?

I don't know what has happened to me, but I've quit thinking about living a 'professional' life. The life all of our parents want to see us in. The life that everyone admires. I've never felt this way before, to be honest. All my life I've been studying really hard on school to get to that place where I can gain recognition. And now, all of a sudden, I have a weird, strong desire to become a hippie. Or whatever you call a wanderer who is liberated from a world that is heavily politicised and monetised. 

I think I have a small modern nomad in me. And it's growing day by day. And it was dormant before I reached 21. To be honest I don't see much about what this town has in store for me. I don't know if I have any friends here and I'm the least popular member of the family when it comes to family friends. It seems like an easy place to leave. And I have a restless heart that doesn't seem to feel like being conformed in a structured system where not everyone's needs can be catered. I don't know how long can I survive this world if I don't stop realising that it's just the way this world works. Gotta deal with it, suck it up, they say. 

I don't believe in recognition. Public figures can mess up. Success can be snatched away in a matter of minutes. It's about time that we stop education our children that success equals to recognition. It's scary to think of the whole human population using money just to chase more money for the sake of praises. I don't like the truth that it's a common mindset in my neighbourhood, in my town, in the people of my ethnicity. 

It's a weird world, isn't it? People frown upon those who freely chase their passions but worship those who 'purchase' recognition.

Recognition does not equal to superiority and the titles you carry in your names.

I always tell people that my ultimate goal is to jam on a rooftop. It's not. Day and night I keep on thinking of the day when I can stop relying on my parents. I don't want any recognition from their friends and cousins. I just want to be able to support myself and not rely on them forever.

Which also means I must not mess up.

What's the big deal?, you say. Well, it is a big deal. I can't afford another mistake. Literally. Ain't nobody got money fo dat.

So screw recognition. Ain't nobody got time fo dat. 

Why I Love Passenger

First of all...

I don't think they used the meme correctly, but who cares, it's
the message that matters.

Hello lovely (and not so lovely, uninvited) readers! For the sake of keeping this blog alive, I'll be talking about something that I seldom talk about with anyone else (because it's so hard to find other 'Passengers' here).

It was one evening in August 2013 when I first heard Let Her Go in the car. I remember the date. And the occasion. But I don't think I need to be specific about it. I immediately made a note on my phone, typing down one line of the lyrics so that I could look it up when I get back home.

I remember watching the music video on YouTube for the first time. I remember being surprised that I've never heard about this Passenger guy. Or maybe I thought it was a band? I don't remember.

Then I kept on listening to Let Her Go until I could remember the lyrics. The second song that I discovered was Feather on the Clyde. It was so special to me. One of the most vivid childhood memories that I have is the ice creams I used to buy at Clydebank on weekends. I don't remember whether it was at the shopping centre, or some sort of a roadside, but I remember being excited if we were going to Clydebank. The ice creams were special because I could choose the toppings, and I always chose the coloured sprinkles.

Feather on the Clyde talks about being "as helpless and as hopeless as a feather on the Clyde"

Well I would swim but the river is so wide

And I'm scared I won’t make it to the other side

Well God knows I've failed but He knows that I've tried

I long for something that’s safe and warm

But all I have is all that is gone

I'm as helpless and as hopeless as a feather on the Clyde

I was feeling exactly the same. And it felt so much better knowing that there's a song describing your exact feelings. I decided to search for more. I got myself the whole album and listened to every single track until my playlist returned to the first track. 

Whispers was released not long after that. I was a miserable person, wasting my life by feeling miserable about life. I was constantly angry. And Whispers helped me to release my anger because yelling out the final few lines is a must.

Everyone's filling me up with noise, I don't know what they're talking about

Everyone's filling me up with noise, I don't know what they're talking about

Everyone's filling me up with noise, I don't know what they're talking about

You see all I need's a whisper in a world that only shouts.

Basically the whole lyrics gave me the feels. You know when everyone keeps on stating their opinions and shoving them down your throat, and expect you to listen and follow while you're the one who has been trying out so many alternatives and knowing that they don't work. Well, I was feeling that way.

(This is going to continue as a long, emo post. I'm sorry, thespeechlessdustbin is an emo blog.)

I began to listen to my playlist attentively, like reaaaaalllly listen to the lyrics, and I was surprised to discover Life's for the Living had beautiful lyrics that I did not notice earlier on.

I hate to keep on admitting that I was suicidal, but the truth was, well, I was. No matter how happy I could get, the feeling never left me entirely. Listening to this song wasn't the ultimate cure, it's not like it was some sort of magic, but it was (and it continues to be) one of the things that remind me that this "life is for the living, so live it, or you're better of dead." The visual imagery of this song is something so real in my head. I could see the widow with her hand to the sky and a mist in her eye. I could see myself trudging down the highway, and sleeping in a disused car, "with a mattress of leaves and a blanket of stars." I cursed about how sick I am about this town because it took my dreams down. 

And then I stopped feeling angry, because I've never felt so much anger and melancholy when singing a song.

I came to terms with the things that happened when I listened to Things That Stop You Dreaming. Again, it's not like it was magic, and it wasn't something with an immediate effect. 

I've got no money in my hands or my coat or my pocket

Wont get to space cos I haven't got a rocket

But I've air in my lungs, eyes in my sockets

And a heart that beats like a tap that leaks

What more could I ask for? I feel ashamed of myself when I can't stop comparing my life and possessions with what other people are doing and what they have. I told my ex-housemate that it would be a lot easier if all my Facebook friends were farmers. I wouldn't be seeing vacation photos. I wouldn't be seeing them having good times with a bunch of friends who used to be my group of friends. Oh believe me, the feeling was so damn painful. But now, I can think positively about it. I always picture myself as being lucky that I can see the world by only sitting in front of my laptop, wearing pyjamas, and I'm a lot happier of being happy for my friends instead of feeling sorry for myself. I can learn to love the things I've got, and learn to be the things I'm not.

The next one is Scare Away the Dark. My favourite part of the song is when Mike says "If we all light up we can scare away the dark." It's a very simple phrase, but I equate darkness with depression. I've taken it a bit out of context from the song, but I'd like to think that the only way I can scare away the dark is to light up. 

Well those are the reasons why I love Passenger. Of course because he personally replied to me on Facebook too. He has many other songs talking about love and specific stories of the people that he met. I once played his songs in the car for the whole 5 hour journey back to my grandparents' place (because I hate local radio stations). My dad loved the song Holes and I think my mum loves Scare Away the Dark because of its catchy "Oo, oo, ooo ,oooo" part. And my favourite sister loves Things You've Never Done so much, she keeps on repeating that song. 

Mike Rosenberg had been playing music for many years by busking. He had a small circle of fans, and many current fans do not know him before Let Her Go was a hit. He never went to college. His song 27 that he wrote when he was 27 describes his frustration about being 27 and not achieving anything big. I love stories of people with humble beginnings. And I'm glad I found his music when I was at the lowest point of my life.

I think I've never been so obsessed with a single artiste before. I always only listened to songs and not feel so much of the need to like the artiste or band. This time it's different, maybe because of the emotions involved. Right now, one of my dreams is that if I ever get to attend my first concert, let that concert be Passenger's.

And well, let me end this post with Holes.

Well sometimes you can't change and you can't choose,

And sometimes it seems you gain less than you lose,

Now we've got holes in our hearts, yeah we've got holes in our lives, 

Well we've got holes, we've got holes but we carry on. 

Wanting Things

It's hard to have so many wants. It's hard when everything is never enough.

One year ago, on this day, I faced one of the most life-changing experience in my life. It's hard to say whether I'm over it or not. Sometimes it feels like it's a big lie to say you can completely forget a bad experience. It doesn't move away. It's just you who gets busier and eventually have less time to think about it.

Lately I've been having the thoughts of things I always wanted but never had the chance to get. All my life I've been always wanting things. The last time I felt this way was when I was in secondary school. I kind of stopped feeling this way when I left home, but coming back home seems to amplify it more.

I always compared myself with my friends when I was younger. Friends in school had cool stuffs - stylish phones and gadgets, chances to attend cool stuffs, music classes, all those things you really want as a teen. I used to question why I never get the chances that I crave for. I stopped questioning after I left school.

I don't know why is this feeling coming back to me. The feeling of wanting things but never getting it. But now it seems to get bigger. Last time it was about gadgets and items, now it's more about life chances. Opportunities. Wanting to be accepted. Wanting equality and not a single experience with injustice. 

But the more I want it all, the more I see others gain more. The more I feel that I've lost more than I have gained.

I see people who get what they don't really want but I'd kill to get what they have gotten. Sometimes I picture myself being in their positions. Surely there is someone out there who'd be looking at me that way too, I guess. It's so wrong to grumble but sometimes I just end up thinking of it.

Today I'm just angry. You know after a bad thing happens to you, you just want to get better. You always want to keep on achieving...because that's the only way you get to feel alive. And you say you don't want to live just to prove things to others, but hell, that's the thing. You always want to keep on proving that you can do it. And that makes it tougher.

Because you start to see that people will make your journey tougher. We humans are disgusting beings who think that we are threats to each other. We get paranoid when others do better. And the worst thing is when we try to drag someone to the bottom, without any reasons at all. We judge before we listen to their stories.

I hate educators who ruin a student's life. I really hate them. People say doctors deal with huge responsibilities - but if I died in the hands of a screwed up doctor, that would be the end of my story. Educators can screw up too, especially by practising injustice and that's going to screw up a student's life forever. You think it's a small case? Yeah, small case it is then. But the psychological effect is daunting. One or two marks might mean a lifetime to a student, especially to someone who has learnt that a single stupid mistake can cause a few years of her lifetime. And a lot amount of money. And a loss of many other life opportunities. And even worse, a whole lifetime.

Life is not unfair. God is not unfair. It's the people around us who keeps on making unfair decisions, and the worse part is when they're proud of it and they think it's just a small case. I used to have a teacher who told the class that "being fair is good, but tough", and I respect him for admitting that he can't be fair all the time and he's uncomfortable about that fact.

On a lighter note, I really want a new phone but I don't think I want it that much. 

On a serious note, I can't believe it's been one year. Maybe that's why I've been feeling crappy today.

My feelings are damn complicated.