What if it isn't what I think it is? What if the outcome isn't what I expected it to be?

I think saying that I'll be just slightly depressed would be helluva understatement. 

Requited/Unrequited love. 

You know what? Screw this. I'm not a counsellor. I'm not even near to even being one. I don't even know if I can, want to, or even are passionate enough to be- and I just mean on a personal level, not even a professional one. My passion is in literature. Or law ( but forget the latter, I'm never gonna succeed in that field).

Therefore, apart from using all the counsellor's jargon and attempting to wander blindly into the field ( crazed one, sometimes) of psychology, I should just remove myself entirely.. and stick to what's expected of me- studies and school work.

In fact sometimes I feel I'm not even qualified to be complaining about these 'cases' because, look, who the hell am I trying to be? I'm frustrated that people think I'm just trying to emulate a friend of mine who's basically so altruistic he'd try his best to save everyone; I don't emulate for the sake of trying to 'be like someone else'. Hell. I'd sit down and talk to anyone if I could but now people look at me and they think, ' oh, she's just just pretending to help someone. She doesn't even mean it. ' 

What's more ironic is if the person whom I'm helping thinks that way. I'm sick of it. Why am I even trying to help a friend of mine who's so broken up over a relationship issue if he doesn't even think I'm qualified to help?

Maybe he's right. Maybe I'm too big for my own bloody boots to help. Maybe I'm just not altruistic enough to help someone. 

I don't usually give a damn about what people think of me, but if my friends, or worse still, the very person I'm helping think that I'm helping just to IMITATE this other friend of mine, I'm going to give up. I'm gonna stop trying to help my 'case' ( should I even be using such counsellor's jargon now, anyway? ) because the fact that he thinks I'm just imitating someone else means that he simply doesn't believe I'm worthy enough to help him. 

My emotions are a mess. I want to prove that I'm not just emulating my friend for the sake of it ( how the hell do I do that, exactly? ) and give the whole bloody thing up as well. 

I think my limit is if my friend, whom certain people believe I'm emulating, feels that I'm emulating him for the sake of convergence and asks me about it. I don't even want to think about how bad the snap/hurt would be. 

There's much damn things I wanna say but I just can't say them.

Screw it. The world's all sunshine and rainbows and whether or not I like it, I've got to be happy.

Fuck all the criticisms. I can't even be bothered to want to listen to them anymore, but not wanting to listen to them, doesn't mean it doesn't hurt to hear them.

Know your limit.

And yes I know I'm bloody angsty. Bloody pms-ey. But I know i'll only feel this way and not say, nor do a thing about it. Yeah. Whatever la.

Whole junk of work waiting to be revised, I better begin. 

I'm having one of those days where I just feel like throwing my things around and shouting at everyone.

But I won't do that. Because that's not going to solve anything. Any, damned thing. In fact, it'll make things worse. I have no intention of trying to renovate my room so... yeah.

Exams are next week, I'm unprepared, I can't find my notes and to top it off, everyone's suddenly choosing to pin their expectations on me. Of all damned times.

" Ju, you're gonna do much better this time round ya? Without a distractant."
" I'm looking at you to get at least a B for math, okay Julyn?

And the most painful one.
" Don't disappoint me."

How the hell.. I don't even... See, thing is, I don't give two hoots about what people pin on me. But its what I expect of myself that's just, I rarely swear, but fucking pressurizing.

I'm gonna go out and take a walk to calm my nerves. The fresh air and the fact that this evening's such a beautiful evening, never fails to calm my nerves.

I wish I could go into the forest near my house but too damn bad that it's prohibited. 

There is comedy in tragedy and tragedy in comedy.
Comedy as opposed to menace. There is fear in comedy, and comedy in fear.
Confusion. Uncertainty. Hope.
Yes indeed. Hope.

Certainty, hope, love.
There is fear in comedy.
Menacing threat, humorous, inconsequential banter.
Hidden within, love.
Fear, certainty, hope.
Love. 

Childhood, where are you?

I suddenly realised how much I miss my childhood. Back then, when my life was all about adventures- climbing the hotspot mango tree in my neighbourhood, my dad teaching me how to pitch a tent, build a bird cage, construct a catapult and start a fire out of the heat from the sun. When he taught me how to catch spiders from the lily bushes in my garden, taught me how to trap small animals, not for food, but as pets. When I learnt how to ride a bike without training wheels because my dad insisted that learning to ride was a fundamental necessity. When I learnt how to swim ( thank you, Mum). When I learnt the value of resilience after running long distances ( for which my dad forced me to, of course, and for which I kicked and screamed and cried but still accomplished it, anyway.) 

When I look back upon my past, I realise how much I miss those things. And in fact, I wouldn't have had thought about it had I not been casually talking to my friend today about the beauty of nature. That's when it suddenly hit me- I've left my childhood behind. Because I thought they were childish, stupid and immature- back then, I remember being the only ridiculous one in my class who didn't know what the latest Barbie doll was, or the then most-popular Tamagotchi. What I knew, instead, was how to play five stones, marbles and hopscotch. 

Looking back on it now, I must have been really out of place. It's no wonder I still remember one of my classmates ( back then before we learnt what Tact was) telling me, " eh, you stupid ah?" But other than that one, tactless classmate of mine, I wasn't judged- because children at that age barely judge. But I realised that, outside of the classroom, I was a happy kid. I didn't actually care that, while most of classmates had parents who took them to the movies or bought them expensive toys, I was left at home playing with toys which included a mishmash of assorted yoyos, tops, and perhaps, the closest thing I ever got to being feminine was a cloth doll, lots of assorted stuffed animals ( which I still have to this very day, because of the sentimental value they hold) and that I always wore dresses ( even when I climbed trees, yes). 

But I started to hide these things as I got older. After a while, it became embarrassing, even. I'm pretty sure that everyone has gone through the insecure stage in their lives whereby they begin to find out who they really are. And for a while, that was mine. I made a concious effort to hide my past, pretending that I was happy with things that were just not my thing- excessive shopping, movie-watching, spurging of money- and even bugged my parents to get something ' more like what other normal teenagers have'. I began to conceal myself behind a facade, refusing to do what I truly loved because I thought it'd never be 'cool'. 

However, one cannot keep pretending forever. My facade wore off, and with it, the friends that I had made while I was pretending to be like them ( though I had my true friends during that period too, but they were just 1 or 2 of them) and in its place I began to see the true meaning of what I loved- my childhood. Pitching of tents, going for camps, getting in touch with nature and ultimately, with God, even as I'm far from being a regular church-goer. And when I gathered whatever courage to had to remove my facade entirely, I realised that there were lot more true friends who were actually out there, willing to accept me for my oddities and for who I truly am. 

I've missed my childhood for.. close to almost 5 years now. And now that I think about it, I'd wasted a part of my life pretending to be someone I never really was. I'm grateful for my true friends for whom accept me and my strange, weird character as it is. As it is now, I do like going to the movies. I do like shopping. I do like going out. But I also like nature. And I don't do these things because I'm pretending I like them. I'm not afraid to say it now. Because I'm tired of pretending. I'm extremely appreciative to my friends. And also, Thank you Mum, thank you Dad. I'm wanting my childhood back. 

I've finally concretised this weird sensation that I get whenever I tell someone I like the same thing as them- they think I'm merely trying to converge.

Which isn't the case. At all.

Those who know me well, know I like nature. I've climbed trees since I was a kid. I've never really understood the reason why people scream when an insect ( which most definitely won't hurt you) came near them. 

I don't openly tell others I like this sort of thing. But neither do I fake an identity and pretend that what I actually like is all that fashion and movies and korean pop stars. Yes, I do show an interest, but my life doesn't revolve around them. I just refrain from speaking about I like, of course, unless the person is truly interested in finding out. 

But not speaking about it, doesn't mean I don't like it. And when eventually, I find someone else who really loves the same thing as I thoroughly love, I tend to open up a bit more, once I've gotten past this odd, initial stage of just showing an interest out of politeness- because there never was a need to show an interest out of politeness because I truly loved whatever I was doing, even if it was the exact same as the other party, anyway.  It's never a case whereby I truly love something only because someone else loves it. 

I don't know. Sigh. If you've not made sense of whatever I've typed, it's merely because my thoughts are all disorganised. It's okay. This post was never intended to be understood, anyway. 

A game of cat and mouse. A game of hide and seek. What are we playing at? 

I guess what happened today could be ..kinda.. I guess... considered a partial breakthrough. I'm far too afraid that I'm jumping the gun, but... finally, after talking, they've decided to reconcile. As friends. Awkward friends, maybe, but friends nonetheless.

 For the 1st time ever, I've felt myself bearing the burden of a issue for which I played the role of the devil's advocate, UN peacekeeping force, or merely just plain relationship counsellor. And with this burden comes responsibility-heavy responsibility. For the first time ever, I was tasked with keeping the calm at both ends- alone.

I was far too afraid to try this myself, but for a close friend of mine, I did. I don't know why the hell I was even so impulsive, because I know one wrong move and I could have seriously hurt the already-brittle and fragile equillibrium I've fought long and hard to attain between the 2 parties. But for some reason, things worked out. It wasn't even as long a battle as I thought it would be ( there I go again, jumping the gun) and this seemed to end pretty quickly. I guess you could say I'm glad that it ended quickly, because this being my 1st case, I was inexperienced, disorganised and basically, disoriented.

Within a span of a week, maybe 2 weeks, the skies had cleared. And now I see some light. Overwhelming sense of relief both for them.

That aside, I'm facing an issue of my own too. Maybe it's God's will. I don't know. I'll just have to see how this goes. 

Oh sweet Lord. ( yes I picked this phrase up from a friend of mine, and am now addicted to saying it)

Having sat here at my table for close to an hour and a half now with still no process on my geog essay ( because I haven't the faintest idea what the hell urbanisation trends consist of), my lit essay in tatters because I just made a horrifying discovery that, after rushing out an essay before I left the house this morning, my essay has no/so few it can be considered negligible quotes.

And with a speech to write, and my GP essay to plan, this is not good. Something I always realise a tad too late ie. On a Sunday night when I have to be in school tomorrow.

And perhaps I would actually get a start if I stop the monotonous, addictive scrolling on Facebook as a nosey parker and actually seriously attempted my question.

MYEs are in 10 days. Sweet Lord. What the hell am I still doing on my blog?

Get. Off. Now.

Cest la vie.

Today's been one hell of an exhausting day. And I don't even mean just physically, emotionally too.

I want to know that my efforts hadn't gone to waste. I want to know that they'll be friends again. I want to know that they'll be strong and mature enough to move on.

I don't see that happening now. But then again, all hell broke lose only today, so... i've yet to see the aftermath of the events.

Truthfully speaking, I don't want to have to throw up my hands in despair and just sit at the side, defeated and unable to help them. I've tried. And despite all that they're doing, I'm still willing to want to try and help them. Even if its just a little bit. Because they're my friends, after all. And the least I could do, is to try.

And despite the supposedly bleak situation, I still see some light, within which a hope that both of them will still be friends. Close friends even.

But right now, I need to get back to my work. Lit essay still uncompleted, and my geog ca's still waitng for me to actually write something down other than my name.

It's been a hellish week, a hellish day, and I still have a hellish amount of work uncompleted.

God save me. 

I sometimes feel that I can understand a counsellor's burden. Even with just 1 case, I can feel the tension, the fear and sometimes even the stress. I don't know how those with many cases handle it all. I admire these people.

I worry for both of them. For what may inevitably happen. For the feelings and emotions that will run deep. For the pain.

Strange to know that my case becomes one I can easily relate to because those problems were once my problems. My personal experience, not too long ago.

But the last thing they need, or I need, is to get personally involved in this. Yes, I reflect upon my own mistakes and caution others against making the same mistakes because I don't want another person to go through the shit I went through. But personally reflecting on mistakes doesn't mean that I have to be emotionally involved as well. Because despite everything, I've made a promise that I'll be there for them. Whatever the problems may be, with my personal experience being the best, and only weapon.

Keep a cool head about this. Emotions cannot be involved. Do the right thing for them.

Visited Universal Studios Singapore yesterday, for the 1st time ever. It was, by far, the best thing that helped me take my mind of things- I couldn't possibly be worried for my studies when I was more worried about staying alive on that roller coaster. And to a certain, perhaps even odd, extent, I forced myself to do things that I usually wouldn't do because I'm pure afraid- jump aboard Revenge of the Mummies, even though I knew it was some high-speed freak. On hindsight I probably was afraid, but perhaps the impulse ( and probably, the adrenaline rush) kept me going... and made me accomplish something I've never dared to do in my life.

And despite the MYEs, it felt strangely happy to be visiting a theme park when my MYEs are just...less than 20 days away. That careful deliberation, childlike impulse and altogether smug satisfaction culminated in a whole day's of ignoring my studies... just for that few hours, everything was bliss. The sensation was almost like drinking- a delirious, excited, exaggerated enthusiasm.

And just like drinking, you become sober in the end. The day was gone, and I managed to successfully force myself to get rid of the worries- for a day, at least. But then again, a day is better than nothing. Perhaps the day was well spent indeed.

And now that I'm 'sober', it's time for work.

I guess I might have unintentionally signed up to be a relationship counsellor, for the better or worse, seeing as I'm still having to deal with my own. But the strange fact is, helping others in their relationship and seeing them happy, makes me happy too. For some odd reason.

Yes, like any other girl, I'm envious of their happy relationship and wish that I'd find my own some day. But as of current, it's far too early to be thinking about anyone else- perhaps that's the reason why I find happiness in helping others find happiness then. It may sound entirely fake, but I mean it; no girl should have to go through what I had to endure. No decent girl should have to undergo the pain and emotional torture. No decent girl should cry because her boyfriend made her cry.

That's why despite the ardours healing process, I know that my strength stems from my desire to have other girls learn from me, learn from my mistakes, and learn from my pain. And that's what gives me the strength to carry on, knowing that the pain I've experienced will serve as a lesson to other girls out there who are in a relationship or otherwise.

And I'll keep forcing myself forward, even if the odds are hell.

God, please help me.

I'm frustrated. And I know I have no right to be feeling this way because I just broke up but this isn't the first time and this has been a situation for the past 2 years.

I don't know what's this idea you've got whereby you think you're not good enough for anyone. I've been telling you, time and again that you're not as bad as you think you are but somehow or other, you just refuse to accept that fact. I'm not even telling you to rush out and go get a girl- I know you very well, dear friend, and I know you're a person of strong morals and won't do such a thing. I'm just saying that you've got to be open about the idea of getting into a relationship and to accept it when it comes- not pushing everyone away just because you think that person can get someone better. What if the best option for the person was you?

Look la k. Honestly, I wouldn't be bothered if it wasn't for the fact that I care for you. And I too, will be having a hell of a time keeping my agenda out of this but if one day you do actually believe in yourself and get a girl, I'll be happy for you because I know that you'd have made a right choice- even if that meant... But at the end of the day, it's what's good for you right?

Sigh. I don't know. If you're confused, I'm even more confused than you are.

So, yet again keeping this dead blog alive.

For one thing, the healing period has been a lot, and I repeat, ALOT, easier than I imagined it to be. Why? Simply because the last few times I saw him on twitter before we unfollowed each other, he was cursing the hell out of me, wishing that I'd die someday. And honestly, this is making the healing period a lot faster because now I don't have to fight against myself to stay out of contact with him- he's helping me- with his words. He's distancing us and making me miss him a whole lot less. Oh well. I really am such an idealist sometimes, even thinking we could be friends...

But idealist or otherwise, that's a chapter in my life gone, time I'll never get back, and memories from which I learnt some painful mistakes. Mistakes that I'll never make again, because the wounds are just too painful. I'm always glad that I have friends there as an anchor though- it keeps me sane and had it not been for them, my journey would have been so much rougher.

But there's this one person, and... honestly speaking, he's one person I can truly, wholeheartedly, trust. Despite seeing all my insecurities, he doesn't judge me, and he's the one person I can truly say is altruistic. I'll admit that I can be a selfish person. Yet despite the fact that I can be selfish, I'm enlightened whenever I hear that he has succeeded in achieving something.

I wish I could continue saying more. But whatever it is, this is still going to go online. And whatever's online, can be tracked so... even though I wish to continue, I shall stop here for now.

Time to sort out the mess.

" You can transmute love, ignore it, muddle it, but you can never pull it out of you. "

Yeah, I know. I know it all too well.

Fk this la. Fk this la. Fk this la.

And the worst part is? I can't tell anyone about this. I can't. It's not possible.

Something's wrong with me. And I know what's wrong except that when I try to speak, instead of words, I get tears. Then I end up choking myself. Emotions are messed eh? Time to finish up my math homework and drown myself in the cold shower.

Fk. Stop overthinking.

Holy crap, I've been laughing at my posts from 2008 when I was in Sec 2. I can't believe I typed all that. I just sounded so innocent and childish, and its funny how I created so many innuendos but back then I failed to realise them...

Wait. That means I've become so corrupted over the years. Not funny anymore.

"You can't save everybody."

Yes, I never thought I'd end up in that position but that's just what I have to do. Tonight. After months of fighting, I give up. Don't get me wrong- I tried. And I tried till I was blue in the face. But what's the use of trying to save someone who won't allow themselves to be saved? 

I can't actually believe I'm saying this but.. in order to save yourself, you've got to let some people go. 

For a moment, I understand how counsellors feel when they have to haplessly watch their cases walk themself off cliffs.

You can't save everybody. 

In an old page of my journal, I had drawn countless number of hearts.

20/12/11.

The ink was thick. It leaked through the thin fibre of the paper. The next few pages bore bright blue ink marks. 2 pages down, I see the thin line of the pen nib that once scraped this sheet of paper.

It was torn. Torn from writing.

I carefully removed those 2 sheets and brought it down to the lawn. It was dark and quiet outside- perfect surroundings. Removing a match stick from the box, I strike it against the side and watched as the orange flame burst to life, then threw it down.

I watched as the flame merrily licked away at the edges of the paper, hungrily consuming it's contents.

Today, I've realised that I've been quite an immature kid over the last past few months. Why? I decided to read randomly selected posts today. Posts that I've written over the course of this year, last year, and the years before that. In some I detect pity, in others I detect pride- pride for childish things that now make me laugh at how I was so proud of them. And some make my heart ache- ache for those lost memories which will dissolve in details as the time passes. In some ways this is a good thing; we cannot undo the past. But perhaps learning from those lessons, rather than forgetting them, proves to be a better teacher.

Perhaps I've grown over the course of these few months. The harsh reality of life. The pain that ran deep, but it was not because of blood. The tears that were shed, but it was not because of sadness. The realisation that struck, but it was not because of fear.

I was immature then.

I'm back.

Alright. So I haven't written in this blog for... what, months, literally. And honestly speaking, I don't even know why I chose to revert back to using this stale blog I've never even bothered to upkeep. Perhaps it's because I'm looking for an outlet for stress relief. Perhaps I'm tired of explaining, withholding, and admitting. But whatever the reason, I know, for one thing, that despite having to hid behind a facade, I'll have to push on, to keep going forward, because there isn't an alternative route to peace.

Well I've got no choice. One thing I know is that no matter how much I want to end my pain, the damage is done and I can't look back. No, not now. Ju, you've got to be strong, firm up your resolve and keep your head high despite the treacherous waters. No one said it was going to be easy. And it helps when you have genuine friends on your side. They shake the sense into you when you don't see any, tell you to wake up when you're asleep in your fairytale, and counsel you when you're lost.

Except that I feel I've overdone the last bit. I don't know, I hope I haven't caused problems to my friends. I see them trying so hard for me that it becomes absolutely wicked and detestable if I were to continue being down. My friends have problems of their own, and the last thing I want to do is to burden them. No, you can't be selfish. Get the hell up, live your own life, because ultimately, life's about carving your future and your present, forever keeping in mind the potholes of your past and the painful memories for which a lesson must be learnt. No one's going to carve that path for you- perhaps your friend might lend you a hand with a spade or two but the effort has got to come from ourselves. We carve our own paths.

You carve your own path too. Yes, for a while, we might have shared paths- we helped each other and created what we then naively thought would be our future. But after emotional pain, hurt and abuse, our paths must diverge. We'll each be alone again- not because of fate, not because of luck, but because it's for the good of the future.

I can feel myself getting frustrated- not because of what has happened but because of what I'm feeling. I'm confused. I'm guilty of feeling this way, because I know I shouldn't be, and I'm disgusted at myself for feeling this way as well. Some things aren't just possible. No, not now. I need time to work things out. I'm tired of all the pain.

Reflection aside, I guess that has got to be the breakthrough at last in my JC life- because for the 1st time ever, I've hit a high B for my Lit essay. Reminiscing the times where A was an easy feat, I'd laugh at my own ignorance, blinded by the contempt and smug satisfaction. That was in secondary school. I've changed now. Forced to accept the way of life. Forced to grow up and mature. Forced to change for the better. And I don't regret it. Because change is the only constant in life, as cliche as it seems. Had I not experienced all I had these past 2 years, I would never have had my eyes opened, never had seen past tomorrow, and never had the chance to change.