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, September 19, 2011

Buddhist Represent: Of Conversations & Prayer Circles

You know, thinking it through, I would probably remember this year as the year that I "coerced" my friends into singing Chris a happy birthday in the canteen and forming prayer circles on Emmy morning. And there's a lot of stuff in between, from the unpleasantries and disagreements, the disappointments and the pressure, the fights, the tears, the anger. But they don't really... stand out. 

Because even if I cried my eyes out on my birthday because my sister stole my thunder by having to be sent to the hospital, I still remember bowling with the family, cakes in hospital beds, eating McDonald's for the first time since I got my braces. Because even if Eid technically sucked for me, I'll still remember it for the typical girl conversations with my cousins, walking around the kampong, splendid in new clothes and accessories, trying to reintegrate myself in the grand scheme of things and not failing completely and, of course, all the camwhoring sessions. There's a lot to cry about. History tests, friendship troubles, guys and gals. I don't think it matters as much because I honestly don't remember that feeling. 

As opposed to feeling it every single second of everyday, I just can't remember what it feels like to feel hopeless. I've come so far, I think, from that girl who viewed the world as just another thing to hate and be sad over. That girl who woke up everyday and wanted nothing more than to have not. And I know, somehow, that I owe this, partly, at least, to Chris. I just don't know. I mean. It's one thing to know full well that you can't go on living without somebody, physically, emotionally, there for you, to back you up. It's one thing to want someone to be there, even if you don't think that that somewhere is exactly where they want to be. It's another thing, completely, I think, to just be happy and grateful, thankful to have someone to be happy for, to idolize. 

And the word idolize itself has so many negative connotations to it, mostly because of super unrestrained, super crazy fans, but it's not quite like that. I know Chris said so himself, he doesn't want to be placed on a pedestal and I get that too. I get that feeling of annoyance (underlined with awe and gratefulness) whenever someone refers to me for something, whenever someone asks me what I answered for a question and they consider my answer the one and only. It's not like that. I don't even know the guy, on a personal level, and I won't, I honestly won't, force you to like him because of who he is. I admire, respect, grew to love him because of his talent and his diligence. I am infatuated with him because of his wit. I like him, just plain old celebrity-crush like him, because of his looks. It's layered, the layers, and there's tons in between, but I think the most important thing that I'm trying get across is just the fact that I am inspired by what he represents. A symbol of not only hope for many, but mostly just everything I ever want to be in life.

So honestly? It may be troublesome, it may be borderline ridiculous to do some of the things that I've done, am doing. But I don't really care. I don't really care what people think of me. Because my life's good. I have it good. I have so much and I also happen to have someone to be happy for, someone whom I can just look at and smile and not a lot of people can say that. I am thankful to Chris for not only making me feel better about waking up in the mornings, being myself, but also for teaching me some very valuable lessons that I've always, always needed to learn.

Like how to respect people. Because if it weren't for my obsession with him, I probably would have made so much fun of the Justin Bieber and Twilight fans. And whatever else fans. I mean, haven't you noticed? I've been mocking things less and less. It's because I understand now, on a level that not many of my obsessions made me understand, how important someone can be to you even if it's just some guy on television. And as it stands, I still do make a little bit of fun of said fans, but only towards my friends. I've stopped generalizing. Heck, I learned what generalizing means. 

Like how to be gracious, how I should view everything not as a competition but as the prize itself. Sometimes I'm just so angry that we're put through all of this, this PMR stuff, because it just shakes my confidence. Unnecessarily. I've come to realize that, no, I don't want it to be a competition. I don't want to feel a twinge of "I'm better than you" or "I'm worse", I want to feel honored, and enthused and most of all blessed, because God has given me more intelligence, common sense and moxy than I deserve. More than most of my fellow peers have, actually, and that's just something I should sit down and ponder and give thanks for each and every day and yet I don't have the time, not quite, to do that. 

Like how it's all right to have this kind of humor. It's all right. And there's nothing wrong with that. And Nisa can say whatever she wants to say but at the end of the day, I know I'm not a bad person. Regardless of linearity. I'm fine just the way I am and if I want to tweak something about my personality, that's entirely my prerogative. I don't want to do something because other people want me to. I'm all right.

And I never would have written any of this last year. I accept myself now, more and more each and everyday, and I make fun of people still but I'm starting to think that's just human nature. People can say what they want to say. All I know is that I know who I am and I'm happy.

So thank you. You're not on a pedestal, I don't put people that high. You're my faraway, fairy tale dream. Not in the sense that I want you, but in the sense that I want to have what you have worked so hard for, one day, in the maybe distant, maybe near faraway fairy tale. 

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