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.

Tuesday, September 6, 2011

The Fear

A hard, sort-of-easy, sort-of-dreadful day. The kind of day that reminds me that I'm actually moving and going somewhere in this life, that I'm not going to be living with my parents forever, that I am going to have to make my own choices sooner rather than later (and later too), that I am not ready for any of this jelly and that I am scared and I don't want to be. 

It's been a hard, sort-of-easy, sort-of-dreadful two days, anyways. It feels like longer, like anything related to these memories should just stretch on and on forever and never stop and it's hard to explain, hard to write about. Certainly harder than I thought possible. It began this weekend. It began with a fanfic, like most of my epic two-week dramas usually begin with, and as far as I'm concerned, this doesn't look like it's going to be ending any time soon. 

I'm not a music girl, loathe as I am to admit it. I don't feel as connected to music as I do with words and that's mostly because music has never really been a vehicle of transportation for me. It doesn't take me beyond where I'm sitting, standing, living and breathing, whereas when I read, it's like I'm being sucked through a portal to another world entirely, someone else's lives written and viewed in someone else's words. So it only stands to reason that anything worth remembering that happens in my life starts with a book, a story, an original work of fiction be it for commercial or entertainment purposes, fanfiction writers or authorized authors. There was Harry Potter, for one thing, as I live and breathe that will stay eternal as something closer to heart than anything else (and I doubt I'll encounter anything to change that). There was that unfortunate period of time in Form 1 when I read this horribly depressing and triggery piece of fiction that got me crying and skipping school for a week. And the list continues but maybe the stories should be heard some other time.

I should just make a vow, here and now, to stay away from angst or anything short of a fluffy, comedic piece until after PMR because I might think I can handle it, but I really can't. I should just stop. This should come easily to me, now that PMR's only some twenty days away and I should really prioritize, put things into perspective and I know that after this, I'll have the world. The world to worry about. 

So maybe I'll stop. Maybe. That's a big maybe. That's a definitely not sure maybe. That's a maybe that has no promise behind it, no further inclinations to follow through on my word. In short, it's a hell no, but to appease my inner responsible teenager, I'll say maybe. And maybe I'll believe the lie I told myself. At any rate, reading a few angsty bits and pieces here and there really leaves my mind reeling on dead nights, because lately I've pushed my sleeping time later and later still. (I should just become like Divya.) And lately I've been waking up in the middle of the night, rolling around, trying to get a grip because the dreams always hold me tighter than I would have thought possible. It's like they don't want to let me go. It's like my body's afraid I'm going to be stuck in dreamland forever. I probably wouldn't mind that. I probably would welcome it.

And as much as I would love to make this story span and sprawl across thousands more pages, as much as I would like the pleasure of thrilling nobody in particular except perhaps myself by writing all of this down, I'd just like to get to the crux of it. 

It's odd to think that I have friends. And it's not like I can tell them everything. I've decided that only one person deserves that everything. But friends friends. And not even casual friends. Not even those I see along the corridors sometimes and I wave them a happy hello and then we both go our merry ways. Actual people I can count on to not call me just an acquaintance, not call me just someone out of the millions of other faces they can put a name to, but a friend. 

In the mornings I have Hanna, who is a nice person to talk to. And lately it feels like I talk to Cassandra more often than normal, but that's maybe because of the fact that she's on Canteen and I'm on Carpark 2. We do talk on normal occasions before, it's just been heightened lately, that's all. I talk to Sabrina, too, when I can't bear to be around Divya and Violet and all those other prefects in the mornings. It's not that I haven't had enough caffeine to deal with them. More like no amount of caffeine in the world would make me want to deal with them in the morning, when my mouth hasn't quite caught up with my brain yet. I like mornings, favorite time of the day, but I've got to admit that it's the only time of the day in which I say things before I think about them. Sometimes I'm funnier for that, sometimes it ends up badly on my part. 

Classes are almost always Nisa and Sabrina, because they sit under the fan. I don't know how I'm supposed to feel for always abandoning Aly but if I stop to think about it too long, guilt would start creeping in and then where would I be? Today during Maths there was Jing Kai and Gloria, and Nina, too. And Nina and Thivyaa during Science. Nisa all around and in between. It's not that I'm not happy with all of this, it just makes me wonder sometimes. Like, I would ask myself, you traded in one epic thing for hundreds of mediocre things? Where's the logic in that? But too much dwelling on the past isn't good for anybody, or so I've been told, so since the Eid holidays finished and school started again, I realized that maybe, and this is certainly not the last word on it, nor do I think it's the last time I'm going to say these exact same words, maybe it's time to let go. 

Elia during recess today to have Serious and Grave Discussion about Pottermore. I also had Nadiah yesterday. Nadiah is better when she's not talking, I've discovered, so maybe from now on I'll just conquer all the conversations we have. Let's pretend that's not what's going on already. After school yesterday was less than stellar as we had all been led to believe there was AGM for YE but due to some serious miscommunications on everyone's behalf (and especially on our teacher's and probably, regretfully maybe Tracy's parts as well), we were all basically stranded for the day. I love YE, well, at least, I've come to love it more than I had initially thought I would and I'd credit that all to the fact that I had adjusted way better than I thought I would have. To be honest, I don't really feel close to anyone in YE so there's that. I talk to them and stuff but there's no denying we don't exactly run in the same circles. 

There's no denying I don't really have a circle in the first place. But that's just all because of the fact that I am socially impaired when it comes to networking sites and whatever else it is these kids do in the cyber world nowadays. Today's staying back proved more productive, maybe only marginally so but whatever. Arts project with the group that comprised of Nisa, Nina, Nazureen, Nadhwah and... me. I only just realized the N trend. Oh, and Aly, but she couldn't make it. Neither could Nadhwah for that matter so we had the rather "pleasant" company of Syazwani. I italicized it and open bracket close bracketed the term, in case it wasn't obvious enough already. (I don't actually have anything against her. This is just how I write, apparently.)

So it's mostly nice. Like yesterday at the library. Today at the library. And Maths class and after school. Even Carpark duty is unfathomably fun with Cassandra around. Cassandra, even though her dryness borders on annoying and rude sometimes, is really my kind of humor. And, you know, honestly I never would have thought that this would be my life. I couldn't have predicted any of this. And I don't know, really; I don't know whether to pity those who have had the same group of friends from day one or not because I've got it quite good, admittedly. If things hadn't happened the way that they had, I never would have been friends with half the people I am friends with today. And naturally I don't throw that word around lightly. But considering the fact that I hate people, my classmates aren't that bad. Scratch that. Most of them aren't that bad. Like, I know I'm thankful to Nisa, as much as I hate saying it and all, because without her I wouldn't be friends with Nina and probably not Gloria or Damia either. Well, maybe Gloria. But certainly not Damia and Nina. And Aly, too, probably. 

Like I said: never could have predicted any of this. Being friends with all these people, most of whom I've never met until I started school here; maintaining a relatively all right and very sane social life without the aid of online interactions (or with minimal aid, anyways); and shocker of all shockers, still being friends with Nisa, Raihan and Afreena. I mean, there are those who fall to the wayside, those who develop an identity outside of the label that's been stamped on them in primary, but I can definitely still hang with Sasha and Intan (God knows how Serena's going and whoah, it's been a while since I even typed out her name). Although it is odd. I mean, what did Intan and I even used to talk about because we used to be so close. 

And that's that. The that to that end, as much sense as that makes. I know I get hung up over people easily but I've got to start to realize that it doesn't all suck. And the rest of those Goddamn "smarty pants" can say whatever they want to say, they can be competitive all they want and talk about other people's marks behind their backs, but I'll stay mum and focus on my own achievements, my own success and that brings us to That Feeling In the Pit of My Stomach that hasn't waned since it sunk its claws in on Sunday.

Among everything that's going on, among life happening right in front of my eyes, sometimes I forget that time's actually moving. That it's going to stay this way for a long time but not for long. That I am going to have to move and this isn't going to be forever because all those songs lie. We grow out of it, we grow up and as much as I don't want to and as much as I want to just throw question after question in the face of evolution and at society's door, its inevitable. It's close your eyes and do it inevitable, it's PMR is in less than 30 days inevitable. 

It's weird. I'm doing all these things, being all these things. I'm a student, a PMR candidate, a prefect, acting Head of Spotcheck on top of that; yesterday I bought presents for Nisa's birthday and, well, there's Maze's and I's anniversary, and I'm planning things (like, rather cavalierly, but still planning things) and I'm sharing all of these plans with my friends; and I found out today I did well on my Literature component for English because my points were good and my language was all flowery; I have friends; I have family; I know what I'm doing for Nanowrimo, I'm writing fanfiction, I'm making new friends online as well; and... it's a lot. It's too much. It's overwhelming when you put them all together. 

It's like, no, I don't want any of this, but at the same time, what can I do about it? It's weird to be doing stuff and planning stuff because I feel like I'm pretty much standing stationary but I'm not.

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