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.

Wednesday, August 24, 2011

The Long Way

So I was just tossing around the idea for a while last year, just wanted to, I don't know, forget all about it, start new and not be the person I was before the whole realization set in but you said no. You literally said, "Don't," and I understand now that you had an inkling of what was going on and color me shocked. Really. After all the things you said about not wanting to be out of the loop, you chose to keep this away from me? 

It shouldn't really be a big deal because it's not. Just bring it up in conversation one day, why don't you? You know, the hundreds of conversations we have per day? Just knock me over with a feather with that L word, I can handle it. I'm pretty sure I could handle it. But instead you just kept quiet and told me this year and... that is honestly so useless. 

Do you know what it's like to stand at the side and not be able to do anything? Do you know what it's like to know what you want but have no idea in freezing hell how to achieve it? You don't. You didn't get power and then lose it, you didn't get someone and then lose them. You know, I think the worst part of it is probably the fact that after I told you something was up, the first time I told you, and the first time you witnessed it firsthand and I told you I wanted to quit, I wanted it to stop, and you encouraged me. But I think you knew, even then, what took me a year to realize, and I don't understand what your motivation was. I mean, why would you want that for your friends? Why would you wish that on anybody? Unhappiness. Or maybe I was already past the point of no return on the miserable scale, I don't know. 

So it's hard some days, when there's a lot to think about, when it's down the stairs, past the labs and lockers and straight to the first gate. It's harder some days than others; Teacher's Day, exams, Independence Day celebrations, birthdays. But it's the fact that I got through it the first time, and I'm getting through it now that makes me believe I'm not completely useless. 

I know whatever I decide to do this year, you won't say anything anymore and even if you did, I don't believe you have a right to be heard. I don't believe I should believe anything you say ever. I don't want to pin this down on you because it's not your fault but I do think situations could have been vastly improved if you had sought me out earlier. That's all I'm saying.

Left at the classes, past the hall, past the teacher's room, to the canteen. It's best not to dwell on the past.

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