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.

Saturday, June 16, 2012

I'd Rather Be Dry than Held Up by a Golden Gun

Foreword: Again, this week, I faced difficulties in choosing a song. I thought of Gregory and the Hawk's The Bolder Thing to Do (which has a quietness that reflects well on this week - then again, most of Gregory and the Hawk's songs are 'quiet' - besides also gently touching on my victimization issues). While I was sobbing my day away on Friday, I again thought of The Bed Song, but in the end, I chose the most thematic song I knew, which is this, and for as long as I've heard this song, it's been a sort of anthem for me, as well as a long-standing shower-concert favorite.

And another thing: I really don't feel like writing this week. Things happened, and I went places and got some stuff done, but I haven't really moved as much as I had wanted to, or foresaw myself moving by this time last week. I am still stuck, metaphorically, maybe physically as well, and as much as I want to move on with my life, there's some things that are making me reconsider and... think twice about staying.

Week 3

jehanchoo at Tumblr.
This might come as a disappointment but I am not going to be recounting my every adventure in this post. The previous statement might also be a lie. We may never know until now: On Monday, I visited the Integrated School my parents want me to go to. I'll admit that it's a good school, one that I probably would have been proud to go to if they had sent me there earlier. And after, I headed over to school to give some stuff to people and I realized that I really, really can't integrate myself into any community after leaving Sri Aman. It's not for lack of trying, because I will not be trying if it becomes my new reality, it's more of the fact that... I don't want to. [1] Because if I fail at blending in in one school, there is absolutely no guarantee I'll succeed at it in another, more religious school. [2]

And I know, right? Don't blend in, stand out if that's who you are, be yourself, all of that. But I've gone through this a thousand times. How can I be myself when I don't like the way that other people are hurt by 'Myself'? It's not going to be a Utopian kind of life, knowing that you are constantly taking advantage and using other people. It's not like I find that particularly wrong, morally - morals are pretty subjective - it's just that it makes me feel bad. And God knows I am so selfish, that I can't stand feeling bad for making other people feel bad.

I've digressed, as I always do. I felt bad the whole day and at the end of the day, I realized what it was that was making me feel so bad: I would much rather stay at home. Despite it all, despite going back to school for a while and seeing some of my friends who were a couple of levels of confused and devastated and outright angry at me for leaving without a word, I would much, much rather stay at home. Sometimes bullies run away, too. And I realize this is taking a toll on my parents, and I feel bad, and I... I mean, like I've said so many times before, I do realize that I am a disappointment, that I make people feel bad and dislike me, I realize everything I'm doing and it's on purpose but I always feel that it was worth something, the fact that I'm not completely oblivious or willfully ignorant. My parents just don't understand. They think I need to get away because of Hanna, and it is that, it is that and so much more, but it's the exact opposite of what all the adults think. And how can I tell them? How can I make people understand that I need to get away from people to make sure I don't hurt or take advantage of any more of them, instead of the other way around?
i wonder sometimes. and then i know that that's not going to happen. i've fought tooth and nail to survive this far. i'm not going to back down and become an antisocial now. i've fought so hard so far just to make sure i'm never alone or lonely, even at the expense of others, even at the expense of myself. so i know beyond a shadow of doubt that if i end up in a class with people i don't like, don't want to like in a million years, i'll still force myself in, integrate myself in, find someone or something to hold onto.

like a nisa maybe.

or a hanna.
or a thivyaa.
and are they friends, really?
-Place Filled With Flames, December 5, 2012.

Well, Monday was a bad day. Tuesday, I can't remember what I did. I submitted my March test results to the Integrated School and based off my academic excellence, they're willing to make a leeway for me to homeschool and take the November O-Levels. As tempting as that sounds, I can't. On Wednesday, I had planned on going to Sports Day, but since Intan was in senamrobik again this year, I thought that I would just be sadly hanging around somewhere, so I didn't go. Thursday was letter-writing day and Friday was doomsday. 

It started off normal. Everything was fine. I went to school and people were all, "Hey, Hafizah!" and all and Violet invited me to her birthday party. There was Nadiah and Zaza and Nisa later on but then things got worse. The reason I write is not so much to express my feelings as it is a means for me to look back upon my life later on when I'm older and use it as a sort of measuring tool, to see how far I've come, how low the mighty have fallen. And I don't want to remember Friday. I've made up my mind before that. Everything was crystal clear. I was leaving. There was no disputing that, and nothing to stop me.

The trip to Sarawak for the oratory competition is tempting, I'm not going to lie. And I mean, everyone keeps telling me to try to think five, ten, twenty years ahead and what kind of idiot would I be if I said that was anywhere within the realm of possibility. It's not. I can't predict the future anymore than I can control the weather and most of the time when I try, things end up so different than what I had pictured. What's the point, then? My Dad tried to get me to think about the worst and best case scenarios but that's about the result. The endgame. And there's no 'end' to life other than death, in which case the only thing everyone should be worried about is whether they're going to heaven or hell, and that is in fact what everyone should be worrying about, it just sort of got lost in translation in our quests to fulfill our mortal needs and desires. 

So still, after weeks on end of hairsplitting, I am at a crossroads. At this point, it's within reason to just beg my parents to let me quit schooling altogether and go out to make a name for myself in the entertainment industry. I don't know anymore, man. Please make the decision for me.

The teachers also said something that I have been a little fixated on. Don't pine after someone who's not there. Okay, I can't exactly be sorry for dragging Hanna (and Khairina and all) into this whole mess because it's not my fault that they've associated themselves with me, neither is it my fault that my Dad told the teachers that I had had a fight with Hanna. If they think I'm too sensitive to being hurt, or that I feel betrayed, who am I to tell them otherwise when I can't even sort out my own thoughts. Maybe underneath all that contempt and misanthropy, betrayal is really what I feel and is the root of my issues, but that's just me playing the victim again. I am always, always going to play the victim because I am psychopathic in not being able to admit to my own faults. In not being able to say sorry and mean it. It's an ongoing theme in my life, apparently. The only honest apology I've given this year is to Pri, and that's because I am still sort of not over her. Which brings us back to pining.

I like pining because it's something I've always been doing, for as far back as I can remember. I don't remember a time in which I wasn't pining for something more, or pining to get back something I had lost due to my own stupidity or cowardice. I've always accepted pining after someone because even though it hurts and it's painful and I can't get a wink of sleep in edgewise, it's something that I've become accustomed to because I've been doing it for so long. I can't stop now. And to be honest, with a lot of people and a lot of cases, it's not even that I miss the person. I just miss being the me that I was when I was having fun with them. Oh, to get back Form 2 me, ignorant and oblivious and arrogant in the way I took everything for granted. 

I told the teachers that this has happened before, although at the time I was a victim running away to save my own feelings. In Standard 4, it was different in which everybody chose Farhana's side. I was always a sidekick to her and when we severed our ties, she was the one who took away everything, and I was the one who had to start my whole life again. And how different that Hafizah was from me, so much nicer, so much braver, in that she came back and did restart her whole life again. New class, new set of friends and new perspective on everything. A whole new beginning. And at the end of the day, there was no denying that things went wrong all over the place, but she always had Farhana to thank for everything, because we are characters built and created from the people around us, and Farhana had created a me that was brave enough to weather the storm, and brave enough to start over.

The problem with walls is that people can't touch you, can't get through deep enough to help you build your character, so you have to build one yourself. And when you build and make up a character all on your own, there's no telling how bad the results would be because the easiest person to lie to is yourself.

Saturday, I went to school with Nisa to help Violet with her campaign. We mainly helped Violet, but the other candidates were there as well. Elyza and Jen Li came and went. Divya and Jing Kai were there as well. I never imagined myself hanging up flyers with my face on it or anything. Then again, I never imagined Elyza and Jen Li doing that either. We ordered pizza for an early lunch, and Damia, Nisa and I walked to a nearby stall to get drinks for ourselves (although the walk felt like forever and by the time we got back, most of the ice had already melted). My Dad said that it was good to have a school. I disagree. But it is good to have friends. And while there's so many other things wrong and totally different here, that's the main thing that's making me reconsider. Last time around, I had nobody. Like I said, a whole new beginning with a whole new set of friends. But this time around, I had people to cry for me. And that's... that makes a difference. That should make a difference. Shouldn't it? Or maybe that just makes things harder. Because last time around, Farhana won everyone we had ever been friends with. She got to 'keep' them. But now, Hanna will forever and ever be a part of my life because she's a part of Nisa's, and Afreena's, and Intan's, and Xueh Wei's, and Nadiah's.

There are the pros and cons to everything and while some people may be able to look at these and form a reasonable conclusion, I am still completely at sea. Let me be called selfish for taking up others' time and energy while I'm slaving over this choice, for putting my parents' feelings and financial woes aside while I clear my head. All I want, at the end of the day, is to be able to make this decision myself, so I could live with the guilt if need be, but I wouldn't have to resort to blaming anyone else but myself.

Sunday, I went to Cheer 2012 with Raihan and Intan. Nisa was there with the school. I mean, I hope I don't offend anyone, but I was so bored, that if it weren't for the noise, I would have slept. I only went to support Khairina. That's how much I love her. It's not the cheerleaders, they were good, I guess, if I were equipped with enough knowledge to judge, but I just don't understand sports. I don't understand people cheering on a group of people to do something that most people can't do or are too much of a lazy ass to practice doing. It seems like a questionable way to spend your time. Raihan was into it. She imagined herself performing a one-woman show of sorts. 
Raihan: I'm imagining what it would be like if One Direction were down there performing.
Someone: Do you do that often?
Raihan: Yeah. Don't you? I bet Intan does.
Intan: I don't even do that.
Me: Yeah, Intan lives in reality.
Raihan: *gestures to her can of iced lemon tea* This is my reality!
Intan: Reality? Your reali-tea?
Congratulations to the D*Starz who won third. We went to Paradigm afterwards. It was the nearest place to get something to eat. Plus, I thought it would be nice to bring Raihan there since she has never been. We ate at Fish and Co. and I think we were the best customers that restaurant ever had. It... took me back, you know. If only Afreena was there and all, but it took me back to the days of pre-Hanna, pre-Nadiah, pre-Pri (for me). Happier times (or, more accurately put, simpler times). We laughed so much during the meal and ended up swapping plates with everybody else. Intan was craving desert so she ordered hot fudge and I asked her if I could have some. When it arrived, Raihan asked for three more forks. I couldn't wait anymore though so I used the small spoon I had to stir my latte. We ordered a second plate. Raihan had a stomach ache. Only lowlight of the day. We went to Toys 'R Us and it was everything the Bangsar Village trip wasn't. We sent Intan home but Raihan and Nisa came to back to my house. They helped me put up the Big Ben wall art thing that Kirsten gave to me. Smokey keeps looking at it all frustrated, as if he either wants to peel it off or chase after the wall art birds. Probably both.

Me: Oops, I'm sorry I bumped your mushy boobs.
Nisa: *offended* What?
Me: Sorry.
Nisa: What did you say?
Me: Mushy?
Nisa: Oh. Yeah, I thought you said hairy.
+ + +

1. "i'm sure a lot of people don't believe this but a lot of things, i can do, i just don't want to. so i can. of course i can go back to school and 'start again'. of course i am able to do that, physically, hell mentally. but i don't want to. of course i can do housework or chores or clean my room or prepare food for myself and heck i've done that a lot over the years if i needed to but i don't want to because i don't need to. people think i have this inability to adapt but no, that's not it, i am just for lack of better words a lazy ass."

2. My Dad's been piling on the spiritual lately. Like, heavy-duty lectures and Qur'an reading sessions. Which doesn't bother me as much as I thought it would. It's just that... it's the wrong place to start. I know intellectually that the root of all my problems is my inability to connect with God's religion, the religion I was born into and that if I could just, as I'm sure my parents have high hopes for, slowly rebuild my character as one who depends unquestionably upon God for all matters, all my problems would be solved. But it's not as easy as that. Hell no. And it's definitely not helping matters to make me fall in love with one of my best friends.

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