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.

Sunday, February 12, 2012

Some Kind of Wonderful

These past few days, I've had things to think about, but most of them have been jostling around inside my brain and trying to take over each other that my thoughts just end up being a mass jumble of things, and if not that, they are at least competing with each other to be the main thing I think about, and that makes for a very confused, very head ached me.

First, Monday. I'm feeling a sort of trend here in which people just start talking to me about things I would rather not talk about and they just won't stop talking about it even after I ask them to stop. There are a lot of these types of conversation, growing in abundance as of late and becoming kind of obsolete. I tend to remember them in the dark of night and wonder over what would happen if the day never comes when I'll forget. The Monday night conversation still haunts me a little bit, especially in light of what happened today, but bigger things are on my mind and fighting for dominance, so it's kind of been pushed back. I would say that as of now, Monday's problem isn't the worst, it's just a barely there ache anymore, because I've dealt with this ages ago and it's no longer up to me. I am no longer the one in control, thus I have nothing I can possibly contribute to the matter, because it doesn't matter if I want something, what matters is that this is a family unit. We are supposed to work together seamlessly but we do not. And that is neither my problem nor, frankly, yours, as a matter of fact.

Tuesday, there was also a conversation, regarding the thing I've most wanted to get off my chest lately. It's a "you first" "oh, no, you first" "no, I insist" type of thing that's going on, and I can't really say I foresaw any of this coming up, it honestly felt like the cruelest cliff hanger ever, but what's done is done. I would like to say that it gets better, but I know that's stretching idealistic, even for me. The things that are going to happen will happen, especially since this is not strictly speaking my own personal problem. I feel like a douche, though, more and more each day, for the thoughts that sometime run through my head. Of this isn't fairs and why mes and why did you have to tell mes. To answer, life isn't fair, you because you asked for it, subconsciously or subliminally perhaps, and she told me because of fear, maybe trust, but mostly because of feeling alone. And I know how improbable everything seems now, added up, pile on top of a pile, but to quote, "Anything that happens, happens. Anything that, in happening, causes something else to happen, causes something else to happen. Anything that, in happening, causes itself to happen again, happens again. It doesn't necessarily do it in chronological order, though."

Wednesday, Thursday, Friday's just kind of a mishmash. Mostly the same old "not good enough" thing which I've become fairly adept at handling and eliminating by now. I know that I'll never be good at sports and above all, I've realized that simply admitting to that is no end all, be all case. I'll have to work at it in order to achieve something close to happiness in my life, and that's fact. The fact that other people are better than me in certain other aspects, other than sports, in just the way nature and life works and I've got to accept that and work hard because of that, not in spite of it. I could settle for being average, have settled for a long time, because compared to other people, worries are a big thing for me and I tend to solve out my worries more than I try to forget about them. It's a fine balance, one that people always tell you is going to come as a challenge, but the saying is not enough. It's not enough for it to be said, "it's going to be hard," because hardness is subjective to its subjects.

Saturday and Sunday sort of drove me insane, because I finally answered the question that people have been bugging me with for ages, and more than ever now I wish I could just quit. But my friends, they don't want me to. They believe that it would be for my best interest if I continued on with it and persevered. Muddled through. Went through life the way I would have if what happened a few years back hadn't happened. And can I do that, really? I mean, my self control is at rock bottom right now and God knows I haven't been keeping myself in check at all, not like I wanted to, not like I needed to. There are things that needed to be discussed, and they were. I was just shocked at the outcome, was all. I would never in a million years forget that, because it came completely out of left field and the realization has set in that we are settling for average, and I can't deal with that. I would ask you to do something about it but I'm scared for what might happen if the both of us actually started moving from the place we've stuck ourselves to.

So that was this week and its follies. May next week bring me some kind of wonderful.

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