Sunday, 18 December 2016

Escaping and Denying Reality -- Victimising Oneself

~~~  a courageous person is someone who still feels fear but chooses to act anyway.


For a long time, I had kept myself in a blind spot and never realise what makes people despise me that much... until I looked back and see how much reality I have ignored. And I change, a little at a time, maybe not that much, but enough to let me live a normal life, that is. 

One thing that ponders me is the amount of haters I attract. Even my own close friends attempt to condemn my actions at times. I would willingly admit my wrongdoings if there were any, but it usually turn out to be us having different perspectives regarding certain issues. So there's never "wrong", but the one who demand one should follow the other. And the moment condemning happens, there comes the wrong action. Never would I dare to request ones' action to change, except when it is morally and legislatively wrong. When it comes to truth I am strongly rooted, and this bring me conflicts with my this very friend. 

Even now I am hesitating whether to write this down. The problem lies in attitude -- same as what I've done years before -- escaping and denying reality. One more spice she added into this mix, makes the situation more unbearable, is the act of victimising herself. I'm of course not responsible for her actions, but being an empath and a protective friend, I find it hard not to symphatise with her.  I thought that being a religious person herself, she could seek enlightenment in her own spiritual guidance. But after 3 years of knowing her, guiding her and supporting her, I see no improvement in her behaviour. It irritates me as time passes by, and makes me want to cut a clear line with her. 

This is because being with her has become more and more energy draining. She complains, but makes no conscious effort to deal with the problems. She condemns, but makes no reflection onto her own actions. Anything that she can't excel in, she makes petty excuses and blame it on others. Being with her for three years, all sorts of excuses have been given. For instance, when doing assignments, she always use the typical "Oh I am not good at this" to escape from commitments and responsibilities that everyone should bear as a group member. To make herself feel better, she would praise you for your "intelligence and talents", and repeat the same action again whenever she finds it necessary. Don't you have better problem solving than this? And then there is her own belief of "I have a sickness-susceptible body", where she constantly use to make her "I'm not feeling well" status of the day. I wouldn't know whether she is really sick or not, would I?

Even when it comes to little insignificant things in daily life that does not require the judgement of right nor wrong, she is still able to victimise herself by finding fault on others, and her range of others covers almost every existence within the universe. When you find a certain dish does not appeal to your taste buds, you can just coolly admit that you don't like it,  can't you? Instead she puts the blame on her origin, when the dish is of her own origin! It makes the situation so ridiculous that all of us friends are speechless. Now why would you blame others?  Whenever she speaks to me about her inferiority, she always blame it on the family institution she was brought up with. But not all of us living in complete happiness, do we? I do know family affects the most, but it is of one conscious effort to walk out of the trauma or whatever shadows existed. Yet all I heard from her is blaming and no dealing actions. 

It is heartbreaking -- because she makes no effort, and she ignores my advice when I tried to help. 

I believe the time will come when I give up on her; because she never attempt to save herself anyway. 



Thursday, 8 December 2016

It Started. It Ended.


Tee was quiet when they first met. He seemed to be a person with stories behind his intent, distant gaze, and the polite curl of his lips when he introduced himself. He avoided eye contact,as if he were too shy, and Chiara thought he was cute. Their fate intertwined that spring, when flowers blossom, as well as love.

He was lonely. Among huge crowd of comrades who work for the same event, he stood out a bit too much. They worked under the same department, and had to take authority on handling the performances. Performances required rehearsals, and meetings, therefore these two individuals spent quite an amount of time with each other. There were always moments of comfortable silence between both, and instance liking gradually turned into something deeper.

She started to become curious, of him, of his underlying stories. Strangely enough, he told her all. She liked his frankness. She could show her weak spots and insecurities in front of him, and she liked it that he understood her struggles. Whenever they had meetings till late night, he would let her lean on his shoulder and rest. He would massage her stiff neck and shoulders, and lent her his jacket. Chiara thought he was nice and warm. So when he proposed, she accepted.

Their relationship had just officially entered the third week when Tee started avoiding meeting Chiara. Whenever she asked him out for lunch, or dinner, he would give excuses. He said he was busy. But Chiara saw his chat head constantly online on Facebook, and thought maybe he was not that busy after all. Nevertheless, she restrained herself from disturbing him.

The situation went on for a week, until Chiara texted him “I love you” before she went to bed. When Tee merely replied her a smiley face, she demanded him the “proper reply”. He refused, and finally asked her out for a talk. Chiara sixth sense was on blue code, but she forced herself to get dress and meet him. 
“Hey,” her voice quivered while she greeted him.

“Hmm,” he answered but avoid her gaze.

“What you wanna talk about? Tell me.” She barely contained her nervousness. Her fingers kept fiddling with her t-shirt. “What’s it? Have I done something wrong?”

“Why, I’m here to talk, not to punish you for anything. No, you have not.”

“Then why? Why the sudden ‘we need to talk’ message?” She searched his eyes for explanation, yet he was still avoiding.

“Let’s sit down and talk,” he gestured her to have a seat. It was after midnight and the café was vacant.

“Please, speak. The suspense’s killing me.” She seated herself in front of his boyfriend. He seemed distant and unfamiliar.

“The thing is…” he paused, trying to search for a proper word. “I think I should not have treated you like this. It’s not fair you know.”

“What do you mean by not fair?” She reprimanded. “Explain.”

“You know right, my ex-girlfriend…” 
She waited.

“I keep having the feeling that I should not have treated you as I have treated her. It hurts so much when…”

“Okay, I got it. You mean we shouldn’t DATE, right? That’s what you basically did with your ex.” 

Chiara started to lose patience. She knew too well that Tee was simply beating around the bush.

“No, it’s … you know, how I ended up losing her.” His eyes turned foggy when he gazed into Chiara.

“So what?” she retorted. 
“Please. If you wanna say something, just say it. Listen to your heart and say it. I don’t care how you gonna tell it. Just say it.”

“I … we …I can’t continue our relationship anymore.”

Chiara’s heart skipped a beat.

“What did you just say?” her words came out in a barely audible whisper.

“Let’s break up,” he said. 

“Say it again,” she stared at him in defiance. “Say it again,” she gritted her teeth while the words escaped from her lips with a tinge of menace.

“Let’s break up,” he dared not meet her gaze.

“Say it again,” she challenged him.
“I won’t change my decision,” say her ex-to-be.  

“All this while I listened to you, and now you are dumping me?” Chiara let out a chuckle. 
“Fine.” She got on her heels and spun around to leave.

“It’s late. Let me send you back,” the unfamiliar man offered. 

Clenching her fists, she turned and met his eyes. “I never needed company. I am fine ALONE.”
She left, without looking back.


At first, she thought he looked alone, and wanted to keep him company; and now, she was the lonely one. 


------------------------------- End -------------------------------------


Thursday, 1 December 2016

No More -- A Narrative Fiction

“What did you just say?” her words came out in a barely audible whisper.
“Let’s break up,” he said.
“Say it again,” she stared at him in defiance. “Say it again,” she gritted her teeth while the words escaped from her lips with a tinge of menace.
“Let’s break up,” he dared not meet her gaze.
“Fine.” She got on her heels and spun around to leave.
“It’s late. Let me send you back,” the man offered.
Clenching her fists, she turned and met his eyes. “I never needed company. I am fine ALONE.”
She left, without looking back.

That’s her first love, ended with shattered remnants of her broken heart. Chiara had never thought the first choice she made in life, after so much contemplating, ended up as nothing. She never thought affection could be repaid by coldness and indifference. Never did she expect that this would be the end between them. No more. No more of his spiteful comments on her appearance, on how she wears, on how she should behave. No more of his late night moonlit walks around the campus, the deep conversation that only both had, and the intense gaze and electricity that flowed between them. When they first met, it was as if they have found their long-lost halves. There was an instant recognition, as if they have known each other for years. But no more. No more. She had nothing but a hollowness that surrounded her wherever she went. An overwhelming sense of loneliness among bustling crowd. She now knew that all those scenarios in Korean dramas weren’t exaggerated after all. The pain was real.

             Every corner around the campus made her think of him, every footstep she made she was thinking about meeting him. The happiness of others made her felt ridiculed, as if she did not deserve to be happy. No more. His promises rang aloud in her head: Let’s go out for a movie this weekend. There was never a movie. There was never a speck of kiss on her cheek. There was never “I love you” … She should have seen that coming. His acts of affection toward her was simply mean comments to ask her improve her physical appearance. And yet she thought he loved her. How silly.

             She had almost used to missing him: sudden visits of memories when she strolled around the campus; and had almost used to not seeing him around. She had stopped her hopes of meeting him, of having a peek or glimpse of him walking by, or hearing a news or two about him. She had used to his inexistence, with the existence of him in her memories. No more. No more.

           When he suddenly appeared in front of her, she could not respond. Her muscles tensed, and her breath hitched. She dipped her head and clung tightly onto her coat. He passed by her with his group of friends, beaming with chatter and laughter. She stood there dumbfounded, stunned, and only regained her normal composure after minutes. Never. Never did she get a chance to be among his friends, to enjoy the feeling of belonging to his family. Never. And now no more. She felt a dull ache spreading from her chest. It hurts.
            
          After that, she started seeing more and more of him.  She found out that she will meet him every Tuesday at 3 p.m. as his class would continue at the same lecture hall as hers. She would cross path with him if she departed from her hostel to the bus stop at 10.30 a.m. every Thursday. She would bump into him occasionally: when having dinner with friends at the restaurant, when she was on her way to the library, when she was doing her groceries.
           
        Then she was used to his existence as a stranger, and the existence of the constant shatter of something within her every time he appeared. She was used to the sudden deprivation of air out of her lungs, and the sudden blindness of her eyes by his laughter. No more. No more.
            
         There was no more between them; the only thing that’s left was the pang of agony, accompanied by insomnia, nightmares and lack of breath.



In her diary, on a page full of scribbles, she scratched something on a tiny space among the words. No more.

------------------------------ End ---------------------------------------



Tuesday, 29 November 2016

Relationship Management ... Again

There were quite a few times that I took down what I had posted on my blog. I still remember what I had written, but I no longer want to remember them, nor to bring them back as topic of conversation. But what happens recently is tiring me out. And no matter how much I probe into the matter, trying to seek a solution to it, it does not help.  

Being around people is all about relationship. This is also probably a post that I would take it down suddenly. The matter, concerns my friends. These two have been on a cold war since last Thursday. I tried to make them reconcile, but the problem is, there is no one willing to be the one who apologise first. Is pride that expensive until you can't bring yourself to say sorry in front of your friend? The matter is very small and the reasons both parties have given are childish. Can't you two just  settle it between you and not drag all of us into it?

See why I'd probably take this down? I bet my friends are reading this. Worse still there are haters reading this, wishing that my friends would never reconcile and our relationship would become from worse to worst. It's too mind bugging, to be constantly at each others' presence but to act hostile towards each other. I want to act like there's nothing wrong, but I am better to know that ignorance makes illness worse.

Now, what should I do? Can't you girls forgive each other already? 

Because when it comes to one point that one of us give up the friendship, there won't be a valid relationship anymore. Do you want that to happen? Please, it doesn't matter who is the right one. It matters who is the keeper of the relationship. 

It's your friendship. Keep it.





Monday, 28 November 2016

1st Penang Bridge Marathon in Life

Finisher of 10km Penang Bridge Marathon
27/11/2016

Oh, how I despise running! 
Being dragged into this by my friends, I didn't have a tiny bit of regret. I am surprised by myself that I managed to finish the route. 
Yup, you won't know your limits until you challenge it. 
Suddenly I have this crazy thought that I should participate in the full marathon next year. Am I being too optimistic and overly-confident? 

Now, shall I add a few specks of side story here?

I met the people that I don't want to meet along the route, and ahem... it's not pleasant but somehow I could still bear with it. But imagine you meeting the worse person you could meet in your life whom you have already throw away and try to get over with it. Funny, as if it were a curse. As if he was trying to realise the promise he'd made before that. What does the universe imply by showing him to me here and there? The chances of meeting him is even higher than those times when we were in good terms. 

Then I met these ladies who ignored me despite us being colleagues for an event. Is it because I wrote harsh truths in my post-mortem report? Is it why they hate me so much that they can't bring themselves to say a simple "hi" to me? Fine. If that's so, let's forget we knew each other.

It's sad to accept that people who used to know each other can turn into strangers anytime. What make them don't want to recognise each other? Hate? Shame? Pride?  Or sentimental issues? 
Whatever it is, they have signed the contract of being strangers in my life, and I will treat them so.

There's nothing to lose anyway. Save me energy for greeting as well. 







Monday, 21 November 2016

Far, Far Away

One day, if you did not see me anywhere
I must have gone, far, far away
One day, if you neither see me here nor there
I must have gone, far, far away

Far from the pain
Far from the agony
Far from the hustle and bustle of city
Far from the constant need of money
Far from the nagging feel of responsibility

Far from household chores
Far from traffic jams
Far from thinking whether mustard or cheese should go with ham
Far from bossy bosses
Far from complicated affairs
Far from deadlines driving me mad

But I’ll be also
Far, far away
From the people I love
From the moments I cherish
From the cool breeze to the raindrops beating
From the inviting sunrise to the breath-taking dusk
From the green hills and mountains to the deep blue sea
From the place called home    that you’ve made for me

One fine day, if you did not see me
I must have gone somewhere
Far, far away


**inspired by AGUSTD- So Far Away

Drowned

I stayed adrift   
 But they thought I was still moving
(forward, forward they say)
I stayed awake
So they thought I was okay
(But I haven’t slept for days)

I waved at them,
And they waved me back
With smiles on their faces
(What good manners they have, they should’ve saved me instead)
I opened my mouth but only muffled words came out
The cold waters gushed and choked
Deep down my throat
(So I keep my lips shut, that’s the only thing could be done)

I wondered why they can’t see me
Submerged in water, deep blue sea
(Help, help, I can’t breathe)

The salty liquid’s invading
My lungs, my limbs, my intestines
(A bloated body, that’s me)


Ah, finally.



Saturday, 19 November 2016

Ada’s War Cries

My Mam is one Wicked Witch,
Oh, how I wish she could switch!
Deep down in her cold-hearted soul, with stories untold,
She hates me skin-deep, especially my skyward toes!
She smacked and yanked and banged me against the wall,
With no mercy, not even when her child falls.
Go to hell you devil! That’s what her eyes flickered;
To make things worse, oh how she snickered!
She never let me walk, she never let me out:
Not with that ugly foot! She yelled,
So I crawled and crawled, confined in that one-room prison,
With a small window as my only freedom.
I don’t really care about space and all,
I want Jamie with me, that’s all!
But how could a little boy spend whole day indoors,
With friends and adventure awaiting him on the moor?
(He deserved to go out, he’s not like me)
So one fine day I tied him up nice and tight,
I wanted him to stay with me, all right!
Everything went wrong as he woke up helpless;
All teary and weary, he cried with his earnest!
You became like Mam! You became a monster!
I realised it too late; I’ve hurt my brother!
(I’m sorry I’m wrong I shouldn’t have hurt you;
It’s not your fault at all, go out and play, won’t you?)
That very night I waged a war with my foot:
I must learn to walk! Whatever the ordeal!
I'd shed more blood than I have shed my tears,
I’ll fight till the end; for I’m born a warrior!

*inspired and based on "The War that Saved My Life" by Kimberly Brubaker Bradley. 


Sunday, 13 November 2016

Respect

Been sleep deprived for one whole week and did not have time to recover from it. It hit its highest peak last night, with my mind frozen and my emotion unstable when the event was running. The situation could be saved, if it was not for the ill-management of the committee. Maybe I should not be in an organisation which did not understand the meaning of respect. 

I have been in one during my first year in uni, and I have posted an account of it. Of course I deleted the post due to pressure, and yup I think I made quite the amount of haters out there. Now I find myself in the same boat again, only to realise too late that it is also under the influence of the same particular organisation that I have mentioned formerly. They possess the same hard-rock head and despise criticism.

To say that I participate in events because of the mere marks are simply humiliating. Why couldn't I choose the easy way to gain marks?  I have never thought there existed human beings which disregard others professionalism. Then why did you ask for help and recruit us in the first place?

To look down upon us did not make things go better. If it was not for friendship, I would quit months ago, before it became such a nuisance. Lots of people love to give their orders directly to me, while I have only ONE superior to refer to. Those who claimed them as the "superiors" did not even tell me their identities before "consulting" or "demanding" requests from me. I would say that if it was not for protecting my friends, my temper would straight away high-five in their precious faces. 

The vices lie too deep within the society that I am in no position to correct it nor to improve it. They are stuck and fooled by their so-called "tradition", and there is no one bold and powerful enough to turn it over. For now, let's say that I have safely collected my remaining bits and succeeded escaping the war. Let's hope that next time I'll be lucky and manage to get myself in a society which know how to respect. That way I might preserve the lifetime of my liver.


Let's see how many haters I'd create by posting this. Peace.


Sunday, 6 November 2016

Confession to the Blur-but-not-really Genius -- Bi Shan Lim

*Since I started it, let's make it a series... hohoho

I have known Bi Shan for 3 years now. Being an active participant of extra-curricular activities, I find her personalities appealing. Firstly, she is capable of working with any individuals without much effort. She has a good rapport with most of them. She was constantly showered by greetings from others, even we are just on our way to class. Her range of social network is broad, thanks to her active participation in everything she chooses.
              
Although she is busy with her schedule, she has good time management. She never neglects her studies in any sense, her works are well done. Sometimes I wonder how she manages to cope with such little amount of time, but after I observe her working and studying style, I am impressed. She can squeeze out little time between intervals that most of us would just spend it to idle away, she uses it to do her errands. Put it in a way, she uses her time to its fullest. Nevertheless, she also leaves some time for leisure activities. Occasionally, we spend time watching movie, shopping, or having a good meal together.
               

Another trait that I admire her is her ability to stand in front of audience. She is not the attention seeker, or born performer, yet she can gather courage and bring herself in front of a huge crowd if it is necessary. For example, she dares to present in front of the lecture hall of 300 students to help promote an event about AISEC. I find myself reluctant if I were to put in the same situation as hers. Certainly, this is something which I can learn from her.
               
 Furthermore, she is also a person with her own views and stands, and she sticks strictly to them. She is never easily shaken by others, and determine to go with her own principles in life. Her value judgement never quavers no matter how huge the temptation is. She is a strong believer of God and believes that the good must be preserved. Sometimes she acts as my spiritual guidance when I am lost. I am very thankful to her for supporting me in times of despair. She is caring and supportive. I feel very glad to have someone so sincere, yet standing firmly to support me and guide me. She is a friend who I would never want to lose.


All in all, Bi Shan has such out-standing personalities that I believe she would shine bright in her future, no matter what profession she is in. Her supportive character certainly makes her a good teacher, as adolescents will always need guidance and support in their youth. She is the light house for the ones lost amidst deep blue sea. Won’t you befriend such a person?


Saturday, 5 November 2016

Confession on My Love-Hate Relationship -- Doreen Tiong

Doreen is like a little sister to me. She is never deprived of attention any of us among our group of friends. In a way, she is the one who receives the most concern and love, even among our course mates and lecturers. I think this is because she portrays a certain attitude towards her life and study: she is dedicated. Although she may face difficulties in times, she is never afraid of seeking help. Her willingness to ask and seek support is a virtue itself. Through this, she managed to improve in leaps and bounds in her studies. She is a humble person who is willing to learn from others. Nevertheless, she is never defeated by inferiority. Therefore, I can see her transformation from first year till now, she has been improving herself along the days and become a better person.

First striking me as quite timid, maybe because she has flown here to Penang far away from her hometown, Sibu, Sarawak; she is a person with strong religious grounds and optimistic views. I am very impressed that she always applies the teachings of her religious into her daily life. She is a lovable person with a great heart. Not only she loves and cares for us friends, she portrays deep love towards her family. Whenever we go shopping, she will always have her family in mind. She bought clothes for her two younger siblings, and sometimes some rare brands that could only found in Penang for her parents. No matter what happens, the first ranking in her heart is her family. I am very proud to have a filial friend as her, as her attitude constantly reminds me to be caring towards the ones we love.

Nevertheless, she is also a good teacher. She has a good rapport among her colleagues and students, as this is shown through her Facebook. I saw a lot of her students posting nice feedbacks about her, and praising her dedicated teaching and caring character. 

Doreen had once told me her dream is to be a reputable and respectable educator, if better, a professor. I am sure she is already on the right path. All she needs is to continue the journey to where it leads her, and before long she will reach her dream. I believe in her, just like she always believes the good lies in every soul.

Friday, 4 November 2016

Confession to My October Twin -- Renee Yong

*This is suppose to be an assignment, but it turned out quite fun, and therefore I post it here. This one is really cheesy.

The first thing that strikes me when I saw Renee is her calm, collected composure. She evokes a sense of calmness even though she is amidst the bustling crowd. We became closer to each other as we are course mates and in the same cocurricular unit, which is St John Ambulance.  Again, my first impression may not be that accurate, as I get to know her better, she has her own quirks. She is a person who appreciates little things in life and enjoys laughing out loud at my dark humour. She gave me quite more than hundreds of sideways glances when I threw out a few jokes and puns. I could not have possibly imagine her to be so expressive when she is literally a ‘princess’ based on my first impression.

To be frank, I admire her very much, as she reads a lot, her proficiency in English Language is prominent. She is a person whom I certainly look up to. Having the same reading hobby as hers, she recommended me a lot of books which I happened to fall in love with them too. I like her usage of words in her writing. Her style appeals to me. Both of us share a lot of interests, we love reading, writing, listening to music, having deep conversations and of course, shopping! Therefore, there is never a silent moment between us even though we are left alone. We always have deep conversations between each other, and I appreciate that she listens to my complaints and nagging, while calmly helping me assessing the situation, giving me suggestions and moral support. She is like an angel, her existence itself is enough to make me calm down in times of panicky and frustrations.

I am very blessed to have her as my friend, as her cool head complements my hot blood. Her perfections make her an ideal lady, both in her studies and in her life. Her attitude towards study could not be easily shaken, she is very determined and dedicated. She finished her assignments in the speed of light, while I am still struggling in the first phase. I am completely amazed by her attitude, as she produces high quality work despite being a speedy writer.

All in all, she is an idol I look up to, and will continue to be my role model in life. I find that I could not point out a single flaw in her that makes her imperfect. To me, she is perfection itself.

***follow her blog!



Confessions to My Roommate -- Sharon Lee

*This is suppose to be an assignment, but it turned out quite fun, and therefore I post it here.

Sharon Lee is the first person I met when I came to USM. She is my roommate from 1st year till now. Although she evokes a sense of coolness and seems introverted, she gets along well with me (of course) and with our fellow TESOL-ians. It is just a matter of time and once we get familiar, we go crazy.  Sharon has her own perks when it comes to having fun. She is willing to shed of her “image” and act like a comedian for the sake of her friends. Being closest to her, I find her traits amusing and adorable. She is also very talented in arts and crafts. This is shown when we are making props for our drama, or designing our multimedia presentation. Her artsy fingers could draw well too. She is certainly one of a kind.

As a student, Sharon is a dedicated one. She is always ahead of me when finishing assignments and projects. Deadlines are never a hindrance nor an excuse to her. While there are some of us still procrastinating, she gets her things done and moves to another assignment. Her results turn out to be above average too. She is good at managing her own time as she always leaves sometime for her own leisure activities. She loves watching movies, dramas and sometimes documentaries. She also has a keen interest in world history. I am often fascinated by the depth of her knowledge in the history field. We would spend times talking and arguing about world views with each other. She is a great listener too, as I always confide in her whenever I have problems.


All in all, she is too good a friend to lose. I believe our friendship would go on well for years to come. I firmly believe that she will thrive successfully in the education field, be it a dedicated teacher, or maybe a reputable professor.  


Wednesday, 2 November 2016

Review on "Bluebeard" by Charles Perrault -- A Children's Literature Assignment

There is always darkness lurking behind acts of kindness, just like the existence of shadows beneath everything under sunlight. Judge not. This is human nature.                   -- Preface

Despite being a gruesome horror story, and the fact that it is way too gross to be included in the collection of fairy tales for children; the Bluebeard is categorised as a fairy tale. The folklore, featuring the theme of deadly female curiosity and compulsive homicidal patriarch society of the French Freudalism, published in 1697 by Charles Perrault in his collection of fairytales: Histoires ou Contes du Temps Passe[1], have received much criticism since then, especially after World War II. After more than 200 years, classic fairy tales, which was considered as “ancient wisdom”, could not provide the society satisfactory answers anymore. Moreover, during 1960s, with the rise of feminism, Bluebeard, portraying female as weak and passive, with male being possessive and tyrant, has had fingers of critics finding fault here and there. Although it receives a huge amount of criticism from critics of various fields, it failed to be as popular as The Little Red Riding Hood, Alice in Wonderland, Sleeping Beauty and others. One main reason is that most adults find it inappropriate to read the stories to children, as Maria Tatar said:
“It did not prove attractive to tale collectors, who are eager to assemble stories that would appeal to adult sensibilities about what was inappropriate reading for children. And while so Bluebeard… got lost on its way from adult storytelling cultures to children’s books, the tale managed to lead a powerful literary afterlife without ever being fully aware that its constituent parts belong to a narrative whole.” (Tatar, 2004)
One thing for sure, Disney does not turn it into a major motion picture, and parents choose not to read to the story their children. Because of this, Bluebeard is not a story that many of us grew up with. (Anneloes, 2011) Then, how did it manage to get its way to me when I was a child?  The answer is, driven by curiosity. As a child, I have been fascinated by stories, and how the plot reveals itself, how the villain is defeated, and how justice triumphs eventually. I suppose that it is indeed human nature to explore, to seek for things that are different than what we experience in daily lives, and to indulge in certain amount of imagination and fantasy. Both my parents rarely tell stories, but they let me to have the full authority in choosing what I want to read. They explained difficult words to me, and taught me to use dictionary- at the age of five; since then I am used to reading independently. My family has been a constant patron of libraries, and it’s to no surprise that I encountered the story of Bluebeard when I was eight or nine. And because I have a habit of rereading the books (after a few years’ gap), I am quite familiar with the story.
Bluebeard is not a real given name, but he is called Bluebeard because he has a blue-coloured beard. At the beginning of the story, Perrault asks us to:
Take the time to stop and think,
And to ponder this grim little story.
You surely know that this tale
Took place many years ago.  (Perrault, 1967)
Distancing the audience with the story with the notion that “it took place many years ago,” Perrault has perhaps lessened the fear of one entering the story, because he tells us that it is a grim one. Nevertheless, the child me is one persistent child who finishes reading her story once she picks up a book. Hence, I delved into the story without hesitation. I was surprising fearless as a child, and maybe that time I haven’t been thought the real meaning of the fear word itself.
Bluebeard, a wealthy but ugly blue-bearded man with many riches, has a bad reputation, because of the blue beard, and also because he has married several wives who vanished to nowhere. Therefore we know, no matter as children or as adults, that this Bluebeard man is no good soul, if not where does all his wives go? I knew back then, Bluebeard has something hiding up his sleeves, and since “Nobody ever knew what became of them”, it also suggests that he is very good at concealing his secrets. As Bluebeard conveys his wishes to marry one of the daughters of the lady in his neighbourhood, he fails because the girls despise him and would not want to marry such a frightful creature. However, Bluebeard is determined in getting what he wants: He throws a party for seven days and nights, the event is so successful that “the youngest daughter began to think the master of the house not to have a beard so very blue, and that he was a mighty civil gentleman”. The little me, lured by my own curiosity towards Bluebeard, and how the story revealed the suspense and mystery, plunged head on, into the deeper waters.
And so the marriage is done, and all goes well for a month, until Bluebeard has some affairs of very great consequence (which I didn’t really understand when I read it the first time, but I made a wild guess that it was to mean something important). He gives the keys to all his rooms and chambers to his wife, asks her to invite all her friends, but forbids her to enter the little closet at the end of gallery, to the extent that he warned her “If you happen to open it, there’s nothing but what you may expect from my anger and resentment”.  To this point of the story, even as a child, I could surely predict that the wife is going to open the closet door anyway, because any typical storyline would go on like that!
Bluebeard leaves the house and his wife invites her neighbours and friends (who never been to the bride’s new house as they are too frightened of Bluebeard). They unlock door by door, praising non-stoppingly on the wealth of Bluebeard’s possessions, at the same time envious of his wife. Yet his wife takes no heed of their excitement: she is too busy thinking about the forbidden closet!  At last her curiosity wins, and she thrusts in the little key and unlock the closet door. What a ghastly sight!
“After some moments she began to perceive that the floor was all covered with clotted blood, on which lay the bodies of several dead women, ranged against the wall. (These were all wives whom Bluebeard had married and murdered, one after another.)”
The poor wife is terribly shaken, and the key falls out of her hand to the floor. Hastily she retrieves the key and locks the door, fleeing the scene to recover herself. Here comes the sole magical part in the story: the key is stained by blood, but no matter how the wife tries to clean it, the stain will not go off. My heart goes for the wife- what is she supposed to do when Bluebeard came back! We readers certainly do not hope misfortune to land upon this young lady! The story pace goes on faster as Bluebeard returns home the same evening, and demands of the keys the next morning. Bluebeard knows his wife doings, and wants to murder he. The wife tries all she can to buy some time for herself, she begs Bluebeard for some time to say her prayers; and she is not afraid of asking help: she calls upon her visiting sister who is still in the house, and asks her to go up the tower to signal her brothers to come faster to her.
Bluebeard urges the wife thrice to come downstairs and receive her death; so does the wife urges sister Anne to see if her brothers have come to the rescue. It is a very typical number 3 that appears in fairy tale, and the third time being the climax. Bluebeard, grabbing a sabre (cutlass in Zipes translated version), is about to lash open the throat of the woman when her brothers (both soldiers) charge in and take away his life. Alas, our protagonist is saved! The murderous homicidal serial killer is dead!
Perrault definitely gives the story the happy ending touch- evil is defeated and the innocent is saved. The wife (the widow now) inherits all his fortune, and uses them to make her family condition better. She marries off herself to “a very worthy gentleman, who made her forget Bluebeard’s cruelty.” Upon this point, the child needs are satisfied, here comes the closure of the story, which doesn’t sound as sorry as those dead wives the lady found in the closet, and also the murderer is dead! Yay! Hooray!
Ending the story with two morals, which somewhat seems contradicting with one another, Perrault attempts to give advice to the readers of the story, in which I didn’t pay attention at all to those lines when I was a kid. The first moral states that curiosity is a short-lived pleasure that once enjoyed, always proves to “cost too dearly”.  The other moral, stating that the story is ‘a tale of times”, and husbands are no longer so terrible. (Or is that so?)
 Reminiscing the times when I first read the story, and what I feel now, I am surprised that the young-aged me managed to read through the whole story unfazed while having my meal. Maybe it’s because Perrault says that it is a story of olden times, and I believe it anyway that it will not happen around me. But the more I know, the more I fear. Fascinated and intrigued by human darker nature, my choice of fiction has always been fantasy, horror, thriller, mystery, suspense and adventure. I am now aware that a psychopath could be easily lurking among us, it could even be the one closer to us, just like Bluebeard is the husband to the wife. Therefore, the moral I conclude myself, not given by Perrault explicitly, is not to make decision hastily, and not to be blinded by wealth, which many women chose the path.  This story also tells us that an unhappy marriage may as well equal to death, and living in a violent and abusive one (Bluebeard existence is mentally-abusive to the wife in a way, the felling she supresses when she opted for his wealth). The lady at the end is better off without her husband. This tells us that being single is not a bad thing at all, and Perrault maybe criticising the constitution of marriage during that period, where society is patriarchal. We could simply generalise Bluebeard as husbands who are typical tyrants, but how does Perrault know that in future, husbands do not demand the impossible of their wives? There is never a universal truth that applies to each and every individual in this world. Although gender inequality is reduced to minimal level, there are always cases of abusive relationships, no matter which gender is the assault side. Therefore, my views on this is to not let any tell-tale sign slip. For example, in the story, the youngest daughter is blinded by his wealth and also his made-up fun-and-enjoyable party and married him, ignoring the gut instincts that tell her Bluebeard is frightful in the first place. In this case, Perrault’s Bluebeard is a symbol, blue being the colour of exotic, dreamy and foreign; while beard representing the bestial nature of the villain. The signs are clear in the first place, although we may not judge a book by its cover, we shall take cautionary steps.
As a child sometimes I thought, why is that in most of the stories, the villain must be dead in order to provide is a happy ending? Can it not be other ways than killing off other people? If killing is wrong in the first place, as Bluebeard murders his previous wives; then is it considered “rightful” for the wife’s brothers to take Bluebeard’s life? Moreover, after killing him, they benefit from the dead’s fortune. Doesn’t it sound “wrong”? I considered myself lucky to have not mimicked the characters in any fairy tale, as I know the stories are not meant to be true; but what would become of a child if he imagines himself to be the hero, and execute “justice” by his own? We must be aware that fairy tales are not applicable in real life, and we cannot take revenge onto whomever that seems to be “villains”. Parents and teachers should provide guidance to children especially regarding this matter. It is vital to educate them which is the “rightful” way to fight against evil. The key lies in, whether the children are able to differentiate good versus evil, and also develop a critical thinking of his own, a principle of life which he uses to deal with larger issues.
Curiosity, as a main theme in the story, is portrayed as “deadly and fatal”. This raised controversy and different views among critics. As curiosity is the key to gain knowledge, in Bluebeard, it is somewhat portrayed as a negative trait female possesses. If the wife was able to obey her husband in the first place and passed the “test”, would she still remain safe for the rest of her marriage? I very much doubted that. Let’s assume all the previous wives failed the “forbidden closet” test, that what prompted Bluebeard to kill his first wife? What could she possibly done wrong? Who is Bluebeard’s first kill[2]? It sends shivers down my spine that someone, somewhere on this Earth, maybe the next Bluebeard.
Although Bluebeard is not favourable at all in any sense, and it is still a controversy whether to expose children to elements of violence, not to mention addition bloody scenes; to me, I agree with Perrault’s intention of asking us to ponder upon this grim little story. The Bluebeard is definitely worth ponder upon: the story creates more questions than providing solutions for us. Critics have provided much diverse interpretations over the years. It is true that Bluebeard is no longer a popular story in this modern society, because it does not comply with our current cultural values anymore. It might be on its way to extinction in the children literature’s genre.
Maria Tatar, however, explained why there are still people like me, keep returning to this tale and being attracted to it. This is because there existed the attractions of basic human traits that can be found at the heart of this story:
Trust, fidelity, commitment and reliability: these never disappear from the scene, nor do betrayal, abandonment and capriciousness. And so Bluebeard is, in many ways, here to stay. Our Bluebeard need not to resemble Perrault’s foundation story, but instead take from it a set of ingredients that are measured out in new doses and proportions to keep the cauldron of storytelling constantly bubbling. (Tatar, 2009)

Saturday, 17 September 2016

Lost

I'm tired of being strong, of acting tough, of not able to break down completely when I want to, of smiling when I have no intention to, of laughing out loud to cover my sadness, of repressing my emotions and trying to erase unwanted memories, of being unable to have good nights' sleep, of being unable to be myself.  

Why did I end up helping others patching their wounds while mine are left untended to? Why did my wounds unable to heal by themselves? Why did they end up deeper and deeper? Why did my "whys' never have answers? When can I sleep peacefully without being disturbed by haunting dreams?

I tried to believe that Universe has its own reasons for those things that happened to me. But why am I feeling more lost that ever? Why am I feeling lonelier when I'm surrounded by people? Why am I attacked with sudden sadness every time I laughed hard?

Darn it, please end this for me. 




Saturday, 3 September 2016

Juniors?!

Well apparently this is only my second year being a senior, and I have never enjoyed being a senior. The thing is, not that I don't want to help, but I really am fed up layaning the karenah of these pampered kids. For God's sake, can't you be just a little bit more independent? Can you don't ask me each and every detail about everything? I almost curse when I saw the questions my junior asked me. The questions can be easily solved using logical thinking and some common sense. Please, put some effort in living your life. Now I am very afraid on hearing my phone vibrates, because I pray that it is not a message from juniors.

I force myself to reply message while holding on my emotions. I felt like writing Part III of "My Series of Unfortunate Events", but won't it be mean of me to list my juniors as unfortunate subjects? God forbids. I just hope after the first week of the semester he won't bother me anymore, or else I have to find some way to show him my true colours.

I am not a nice person, I tried to, but I am not.

Oh kids, GROW UP!!!

 



Monday, 8 August 2016

My series of unfortunate events –Part II

Life has its own way of turning against you when everything seems to be SUPPOSEDLY going well. Things just happened. Awfully.

My grandaunt passed away the next day after I posted about her in the last blog post, thanks to everybody praying that she won’t wake up anymore. A lot of conspiracy underneath, but let’s just cut short here. While managing her funeral, relatives see our family as “unwelcomed strangers”, and erm ya we kids just have to endure their stares until the whole thing’s over.

I’ve been suffering from flu since 9th July till now, and haven’t improve a bit. Constantly on drugs make me feel dizzy and sleepy all day, what more I have to work. Working as a kindergarten teacher gives me the nightmares: I just can’t bear to have more than 10 kids calling at me simultaneously non-stop. Lately I bring their voices into my dreams and GOD DAMMIT! I can’t even have a good night’s sleep.

Still wondering if I should quit the job or not. The kids in the centre have been the main source of my flu virus, the environment is quite stuffy, and our young generation in this centre are viscous and unbearable (Did a handful of part-time jobs till now, I have never seen kids so naughty). I admit I do not have the energy to handle them. *sigh

Let’s see if I managed to stay put till the end of this month. I’ve promised to work till sem reopens, I am not the one that break promises, but seeing my health condition… Let’s just wait for a few days. And if my flu gets worse, I would have to say Sorry and bye-bye to my dear boss.

When will my misfortunes end?


Friday, 15 July 2016

Enraged. Shame.

Old ones said do not wash your own dirty laundry in public... but I am wayyyy too enraged by this group of so-called "relatives" to keep silent. Just how on earth could they do such thing... I still can't reason.

My grandpa's sister, or my father's aunt,  or my grand aunt, has been admitted to hospital on 5th of July due to fracture on somewhere around her pelvis, and has never leave hospital since then. Her situation worsened because of blocked arteries, and suffer from breathing difficulties. Despite so many days have passed and so many relatives have gone to visit her, my family remained in the dark. Okay, it's fine, I wouldn't accept your bullshit, because can you even TRY to believe that they can't reach us through a single phone call? And why on EARTH you managed to contact us NOW? It doesn't make sense!

Next, what the goddamn hell message did you deliver to us?! My grandaunt is not even close to death, goddammit she just have breathing difficulties and fluid in her lungs, all you have to do is to wait for her conditions to stabilise and arrange for surgery. So what the fucking mind are you in when you tell us she is going to DIE? You are not GOD! You are not even a doctor, how dare you sentence a person's death?

It's a shame to have relatives squabbling over a person that is so dear to me. Luckily my grandaunt is on sedatives and is sleeping and can't hear all the bullshits that have spoken by these dumbasses. At last they compromised and agree to schedule a surgery on Monday for my grandaunt.

God bless my grandaunt and hope that my relatives won't have to "sentence" her death yet again.

Well, I believe these relatives are over my grandaunt's fortune too, since she's unmarried and has no kids.

Who knows what happen next? 

Tuesday, 21 June 2016

My family in USM

TWO days to the last paper of my finals and yet to start studying. This is just so me, procrastinating whenever I can. Just finished celebrating two of my friends birthdays, and phew, it's a lot of effort planning events. Everything is worth it when you know you have created memories that could not be replaced by any other moments in her lifetime.
It turns out that I haven't showed much of my "social life" through this blog, and well I think I am fairly active showing them through Facebook, Instagram and Twitter. So well there's no need for so much redundancy, shall we? Haha, to be honest, this is the first time in my life having such a big group of sisters, for the past twenty years before I came to university, I always prefer to stick to one or two close friends. And of course we have little frictions here and there, but we turn out fitting as a family. I thank God sincerely for assigning them to show up in this time of my life and bring me so much laughter and support. They change me for a better person. I even have some of my old friends telling me I have changed to be more a spontaneous and outgoing person with much laughter, compare to who I am years ago. Geez, I accept that as compliment. With that being mentioned, I give you a quick glimpse of my family here.

Seven Fairies 七鮮女 Birthday celebration 0620 

I think I need not emphasise how blessed I am to be surrounded by people who truly care about me. Well this blog post may seem a little corny and cheesy, and a little bit of not my usual style: I wish to dedicate my heart-felt thanks to the individuals appeared in the photo above. We still have years to go to test our friendship, but till then, I think we are fated to be stuck together. 

Love ya!

Sunday, 12 June 2016

Indifferent me

There was once a person who told me he could not decipher what's going on in my mind. Well, me either. 

Years of dealing with people makes me conceal my feelings well. It has become my second nature and I doubt if I were to throw it away, I would have to throw away myself too. No one has ever asked or care about what I think or feel anyway. And I've learned through hard way never reveal yourself too much. But that doesn't  mean I'm incapable of expressing emotions. But that doesn't mean I'm incapable of showing love. I simple put my words in the simplest way where there would be no extra information for manipulators to twist it. Even news are not true. So what more can you believe?

I show people bits of true me, but never the whole. If they were to fill in the holes and make up stories of me, the ones who know me would definitely know.  Covering up doesn't mean I am fake, isn't it? I never did invent a new 'identity'. I just choose not to show. And that somehow makes me equals to the word "indifferent". I am not indifferent, it's just that you are not worth enough for me to care, get it?

I doubted myself multiple times, whether it was my problem or not? But no matter how hard I try to please everybody, there's always dissatisfaction. So what? Why should I care so much about others, care about his/her likes and dislikes when they never seem to be taking care about mine? So I'd learned I better turn a deaf ear over them. I learned to care for those who care for me, love those who love me as much as I would. And it ended up people saying I'm two-faceted. Aha... just great. 
The highest form of resentment I would show one is silence. I'm lazy to the moon and if I made effort to participate in a conversation, it means you are still worth some dollars. So if you were to bad-mouth about me, fuck off. I have no time dealing with you. Just go somewhere far off and continue to back stab me. I don't really care much. But if you happened to be in my land-mine zone, be aware of action-packed scenes. And scattered pieces of broken hearts. I never showed mercy to intruders anyway.

Errmmm... how do I end this? Darn it I'm not writing an essay anyway. Bye.


Friday, 10 June 2016

My series of unfortunate events

Heyyo! Sorry for disappearing... I won't say I have been trough hard times but well... things weren't that easy either. My list of misfortunes happened since the early of March till now, and it doesn't show any signs of relenting. 

I don't remember why and how it started... but it did anyway. Now I'm broke (there goes my PTPTN loan), with my laptop dead after drowning in a cup coffee that suppose to drown me but not that poor thing, my phone soft buttons paralysed after trying to commit suicide by jumping down from my desk (oh why would she), me suffering from sleeping... you call that disorder? I kept waking up in the middle of the sleep and OMG it's frustrating! Not only that, someone burned holes in my heart and I believe...(ya i just checked), it needs intensive care. 

Well maybe it's not that unfortunate after all, because all this while I've managed to survive. Call me weirdo and whatever you like, because I am used to it. My buddy told me I'm "unbeatable", and I guess so far I've live to it. So what? Bring it on!

 Now my unfortunate event is everyone's unfortunate event--- Exam! Whatever it is, exams never drag me down. So I might as well go and celebrate... I should stop these crazy thoughts. By the way just watch "Me Before You", not much of my type, too cliche and too noble. Am not going to reveal more about the movie, go and watch if you want to! 

Good luck in your finals! 

Thursday, 28 April 2016

Bye

I've cried, I've been hurt. I've gone through dark times. But now I'm okay.

Life is what an amazing thing, don't you think so?

It makes me see that I'm stronger than I thought I would be. And I really am.

The universe sent me signals that he is not the right one. And I'm all but glad to listen to it.

Now I'm gonna say goodbye, and let's not meet again.

Bye. 

Tuesday, 19 April 2016

思念 太猖狂

当思念泛滥,汇成河,入海去。那浪,滔天。

你知不知道,叫一个人别去想太多,是没用的。 你越阻止, 思念越猖狂。然后,你就会发狂啊,科科。

如果有个开关,会不会好过一些。想关掉就关掉,有空的时候再开来偶尔回味。 可是,如果开关坏了,岂不是大祸 。

思念占据了整个脑袋?心房,拥挤得透不过气。 缺氧。

然后,无从宣泄的思念,就会变相成恐惧。

多么希望可以逃脱,这梦魇般的思念。是不是,该换我疯了。

总是, 该努力克制自己。恐惧却挥之不去。

我怕。
  
我太想你。  

Sunday, 10 April 2016

Bye Bye Angsty Me?

The main reason I have been missing for such a long time is well, I think, because I'm tired of being angsty. At least I can see that there is no point for me to be such an angry adolescent. And therefore I let all my thoughts go and sleep. 

Don't worry though, I am as busy as ever, and my life is as colourful as ever. The fakers are as lively as ever, and I have learnt that the best thing is to pay no heed to what the hell they're doing. So, no comment.

I start to like keeping things low profile, which is quite weird, because it happens that I am loud and noisy. Well, who cares? I'll have no regrets as I am living life the way I wish it would be. But my attitude seems to portray me as an irresponsible and lazy person. Or should I care? Duh. The funny thing is I didn't feel sorry at all for what I've done. Maybe I have fed up living up to others' expectations.

Or maybe I have become "matured", but I doubt it. For now I may as well bid goodbye to the angry me, but who knows when it would make its comeback?

I am still quite angsty, ain't I ?



Friday, 8 January 2016

Music to me

Watching and listening to too much music-related videos and shows somehow reignited the musical soul of mine. I've loved music since young, and I will continue to love music more. One thing I hate about myself is I never got the chance to learn music formally, or at least properly. 

The first thing that comes into my way is my Mum. Well, I believe her intentions are good, but it really rendered me into feeling helpless. My Mum BANNED me from doing anything music-related, even singing in the house is a big NO-NO. She said singing is a "bad culture" and should not be practised, singers out there apparently didn't lead a good life (in her view), and the entertainment world is nothing but a dark world in disguise of colourful appearances. So I couldn't sing at home, usually I sang in class, anywhere, when I am out of home and not with my family. 

I know my voice is the "not-bad" but "so-so" type, and I know I need to practise a lot in order to improve my singing. But then since I couldn't sing at home, apparently I ended up not singing for months. Humming to rhythm is not considered singing, and somemore when I REALLY do sing, my voice will reach my neighbour's. I was self-aware so I kept my voice and be the silent good girl in front of my parents.

Due to lack of singing, my voice shuddered a lot when I sang (during middle school) and of course some of my friend laughed at me for my "over-confidence" in singing. In the long run I kept singing as something I sucked at, and ended up not singing at all.

But then I have evidence that my singing is at least at the average line, because I do won a couple of singing competitions. So I gave a lot of thought and picked up singing again when I was in form 4, I make it a point that even though my singing is not the best, I am still better than most of them out there. I make it a point that singing isn't something I should suppress but I should instead express it. I don't care what others say about me, I just wanna sing. And indeed it makes me happier, although till now I still don't sing in front of my parents.

Oh how I wished I could learn more about music, and of course singing. The love for music can't be expressed because of my lack of knowledge in this field. I wanted to enroll in whatever music classes but I'm still afraid of what my family would say. I have to get their permissions anyway.

And of course with this hectic university life, I wondered if I am good enough at managing time to give space for music lessons. Sometimes I wrote lyrics, and was so frustrated of myself because I couldn't produce the music for the lyrics. My friend around me are not that talented, and well I am also to afraid to approach anyone with music talents. 

So the thing that I wanted to say is, I WANT TO LEARN MUSIC!

That's it. Hope you guys won't laugh at me after reading my confession. XD