The glorious and triumphant return of now-19 year old Blogger, the revival of a once-grand and dare I say influential webspace that produced daily content, and the crippling anxiety of a young woman who no longer has any time or motivation to write, and feels like any ability she had acquired in the past through repetition and sheer will alone is now slowly slipping out of her grasp. Brief history of the Blog and Blogger can be found here.

Here be personal journal entries, observations, slices of life, questions and conclusions, as well as exploration of social and political topics seen through the lens of a Malaysian Muslim, feminist, lesbian, Marxist, and horse enthusiast.

Monday, January 17, 2011


I just don't understand how one person has to go through a lot, a freaking lot, in one day and still has crap to deal with at the end of it. It doesn't make that much sense, if you think about it, and it doesn't really scream fairness. Nobody's trying to even understand. 

What I'm most upset about today is that during History, I had a massive attack of memories - meaning, just as I was underlining a few key words in the textbook, I just got hit by every single memory - good and bad - and it truly and honestly surprises me that I didn't cry. There's this four word sentence that I often mutter to myself whenever I'm upset to get myself more upset (upside down and not the point, of course, but I don't know - I'm weird) and today, it just kept bouncing around and around my head. 

I'm not saying that I want to be someone else. I'm not saying that I want to change. I'm just saying that I get it. I'm not going to go anywhere or do anything if I keep this up. Because the world I live in is unacceptable of anything out of the ordinary. Because the world I live in classifies things so sharply that I don't have a choice at all. Because the world I live in is totally, a hundred percent unfair. For me, at least. 

How is it that I work my ass off for a lot off things and yet other people still get it? How is it that I try to push and push and push and the results embarrass even myself? I'm never scared, never nervous, never stupid enough to think that anything in this world means anything (not concretely, anyways), and yet I just remember all those times I sit down and cry because I wanted to be normal. I had wanted to trade my intelligence so I could be normal. It's stifling. Ignorance is bliss. 

Also, I couldn't help but think about the difference between these two people - these two people who actually mean the world to me but won't even do a Goddamn thing to help me when I'm down. Not even willing to stand by my side when I'm down. I just don't understand why I would go to the ends of the Earth for one of them and yet... hate the bejeezus out of the other one. Maybe when it all comes down to it, the Evolution does play a huge part because I was affected by that more than I care to admit. I truly do care about these people. The feelings, for however long this situation might be, are not reciprocated but I'm OK with that. I'm OK with pining and sighing and living in abject pain and misery because HEY, that's kind of my life. 

I would just like to point out that it is unfair that everyone seems to get it and I get nothing. Everyone else is Glen Coco and I'm Gretchen. 

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