Next voice blog. If anyone out there is listening, I hope my thoughts would inspire yours :)
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Hello World ~ It's Me, Kay :)
I thought I'd try something new. I don't know if anyone is reading this blog lol, but here is my new voice blog.
Saturday, March 12, 2011
Life Lessons
It has been a long while since I last posted. Let it be known, I am not the kind of person who writes things just to let people know what I am up to or what I am doing. My sister calls me a bore, I call myself insightful. I write when I need to. Writing helps me think and today, I guess, I need the thinking. Life has been bumpy of late. I've been on edge for while now, not being in my game. Lord knows, I have been in my game ever since I was born. I was depressed for some while, nothing major but it did cause a major bleak outlook on life.
But I have always been a person that allows a myself a moment of weakness. I wallow in self pity sometimes but when I need to change the gear, I do and life seems well for a moment. I guess, I'm tired. Tired of being myself. I want to change myself, not necessarily for the better, I mean there is not much to change in that sense lol but you know be a different person. I feel like I'm stuck in a rut, unable to free myself from this routine of life that I myself have intricately weaved around me.
Since I was small, I seemed to be goal oriented, determined to be better at everything I do. Even as a child I was taught, second is not the best. First is always the better choice. So, whenever I placed second in class or in any competition, I dare not tell my dad. I remember one time; I was so excited to win second place for this science project in school. Me and my grandma worked hard on it, so I was happy that our hard work was fruitful. I showed him my trophy and he said, "If it's not for first place, don't show me." I was devastated. Needless to say, I locked myself in my room the entire day, studying.
At 25, I have never lived. When I say live, I don't mean mindless drinking and promiscuous sex. I mean lived, to experience, to learn and to see for myself. People younger than me have seen more than I have. Yet, at 25, I feel old. The burden of responsibility on my shoulders are beginning to show it's consequences. The burden of having to clean up my parents' mess, to be the perfect daughter, be the role model sister and be the perfect student. I've never cracked...at least in front of people. All my years, the only time I do show my moment of weakness would be, in my bed, alone, with tears flowing slowly from my eyes down to my wet pillow. I cried sometimes, hours upon hours, hoping the pain would go away before sunrise. Sometimes it did. Other times, it lingered.
Funny thing, pain. You perceive it, you feel it yet most of the time, you hide it. Lord knows, how many types of pain I have hidden under all this prude clothing. The pain of a broken home, the pain of a broken heart and the actual physical pain of a broken knee. Yes, some might say, I don't have it so bad. Maybe...but even if you don't have it so bad, years of that, could amount to something bad. This time, it seems, pain finally won over me.
I am slowly devoid of emotion now. I want to be separated from the pain. When you don't feel, you won't experience pain. It has made me cynical about life, love and funnily enough, pain. Why bother I say nowadays, why bother fighting to live when I'm living to fight? No... I'm not suicidal. I'm just tired...
My sisters, god bless them, have their own sets of problems. But even if I tell them, they won't understand. Being eldest, means being the example in the house. Be it bad or good and for the most part of my youth, it was bad. My family, save for my mum, was convinced I was plotting some evil plan and brain washing my siblings. I took the blame naturally. It seems, in my house, everyone is wrong, except my dad and grandma. I resent that. They never listen and when they do, they only hear what they want to.
I long for the day, I can get away from all this madness. I want to go somewhere where no one knows me. Perhaps without all the circumstance I have here, I would feel again. I would live...
Sometimes, in my melancholic moments, I hoped, I was fatally sick. Perhaps then, these people might realize what I actually mean to them. I feel invisible sometimes. I feel invisible in my own family. The irony. I am at my wits' end. I'm tired...I'm tired...
But I have always been a person that allows a myself a moment of weakness. I wallow in self pity sometimes but when I need to change the gear, I do and life seems well for a moment. I guess, I'm tired. Tired of being myself. I want to change myself, not necessarily for the better, I mean there is not much to change in that sense lol but you know be a different person. I feel like I'm stuck in a rut, unable to free myself from this routine of life that I myself have intricately weaved around me.
Since I was small, I seemed to be goal oriented, determined to be better at everything I do. Even as a child I was taught, second is not the best. First is always the better choice. So, whenever I placed second in class or in any competition, I dare not tell my dad. I remember one time; I was so excited to win second place for this science project in school. Me and my grandma worked hard on it, so I was happy that our hard work was fruitful. I showed him my trophy and he said, "If it's not for first place, don't show me." I was devastated. Needless to say, I locked myself in my room the entire day, studying.
At 25, I have never lived. When I say live, I don't mean mindless drinking and promiscuous sex. I mean lived, to experience, to learn and to see for myself. People younger than me have seen more than I have. Yet, at 25, I feel old. The burden of responsibility on my shoulders are beginning to show it's consequences. The burden of having to clean up my parents' mess, to be the perfect daughter, be the role model sister and be the perfect student. I've never cracked...at least in front of people. All my years, the only time I do show my moment of weakness would be, in my bed, alone, with tears flowing slowly from my eyes down to my wet pillow. I cried sometimes, hours upon hours, hoping the pain would go away before sunrise. Sometimes it did. Other times, it lingered.
Funny thing, pain. You perceive it, you feel it yet most of the time, you hide it. Lord knows, how many types of pain I have hidden under all this prude clothing. The pain of a broken home, the pain of a broken heart and the actual physical pain of a broken knee. Yes, some might say, I don't have it so bad. Maybe...but even if you don't have it so bad, years of that, could amount to something bad. This time, it seems, pain finally won over me.
I am slowly devoid of emotion now. I want to be separated from the pain. When you don't feel, you won't experience pain. It has made me cynical about life, love and funnily enough, pain. Why bother I say nowadays, why bother fighting to live when I'm living to fight? No... I'm not suicidal. I'm just tired...
My sisters, god bless them, have their own sets of problems. But even if I tell them, they won't understand. Being eldest, means being the example in the house. Be it bad or good and for the most part of my youth, it was bad. My family, save for my mum, was convinced I was plotting some evil plan and brain washing my siblings. I took the blame naturally. It seems, in my house, everyone is wrong, except my dad and grandma. I resent that. They never listen and when they do, they only hear what they want to.
I long for the day, I can get away from all this madness. I want to go somewhere where no one knows me. Perhaps without all the circumstance I have here, I would feel again. I would live...
Sometimes, in my melancholic moments, I hoped, I was fatally sick. Perhaps then, these people might realize what I actually mean to them. I feel invisible sometimes. I feel invisible in my own family. The irony. I am at my wits' end. I'm tired...I'm tired...
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