A Fast Forward Button

If there's a wish-list on the most impossible things Santa can't deliver us at any given Christmas eve, it would look like this:

1. a manual guide book on what I should do with my life, and 

2. a fast forward button to the most important parts of my life

Not all who wanders are lost; true. But not all who steadies are found, either. If there's any kind of person that I would really admire, it's the kind of people around my age who knows exactly what they want to do with their lives, completed with a list of plans from A to Z and the steps they'd take to reach them. They don't need a manual book or anyone telling them how to live their lives because they have it all figured out. I'm one of those people who's in constant wondering which way I have to choose. Because I know that our choices have this domino effects beyond them so what we choose tend to affect the things that will happen to us in the future. And perhaps this is me being lazy, but I need to know if my choice was the right thing; I need to know if my choice is going to bring me to the right point, the place where I belong. People are going to say that it takes courage to choose, but the choices come to us in almost every breath we take every day. So living, basically, is a series of courageous act we had to do every day. The courage to face what the future holds for us. And this is why I want a fast forward button; I just can't wait. I can't wait to see what my choices would lead me to. It's scary, I know. The future is this mysterious labyrinth that we can't see, but I want to see it. What makes us afraid is always the things that we don't know; we're afraid of the dark because in the dark we can't see what's in front of us. We're afraid of dying because we don't know what we'll see in the moment of our last breath and so on. But these days, in the beginning of my 20s, I need some kind of new hope. I need a new optimism. I can't work with the kind of optimism I have when I was 17, I need something new. Because I'm not the same person as I was three years ago, not even yesterday. And because things are just... different. I want to know how I'm going to spend the rest of my life, because no matter what it looks like, I can prepare for it right now. I can try to deal with it, and be happy with what I can have. 

It's a Man's Man's World

I'm a girl. When I blame my mind for being so perverse, they'd tell me that girls aren't supposed to rely on their minds anyway, we're illogical creatures. When I blame it on my feelings, they'd tell me that I feel too much, just as every girls do. So I tell them that it's just my hormones that I can't control. They still talk, but testosterones don't have the rights to comment on estrogens, and that's where they shut up. 

She

"You have been raised to believe that, if she is good, she will follow you around. She will have had no past. She will want you unconditionally. But she has been taught through experience that, if she is good, the definition of “good” will always change to suit someone’s judgment. So she might as well just try to be happy."

Cri

"...by not crying, we get to give sadness, pain, sorrow, grief, a perpetual home, a home-cooked meal and an invitation to stick around that simply won’t expire. I can feel how the lack of tears has been taking its toll on me; how it turns everything to dust, steals the colors around, bathes me in gray."

source

I'm a big fan of strong people. People who have every rights to break down and cry, but choose not to. People who don't whine about their suffering, just because they think whining is selfish. People who don't cry over the small stuffs. All the various kinds of strong people, really, because I thought being strong is admirable and because it is a choice that brave people take.

But it is only until very recently that I discovered something else. Now I know that being strong isn't always the right thing to do. Sometimes being strong doesn't always count in how people present themselves as having strength within. Other times, being strong is also about being weak sometimes, because you know you need it.

Crying is always associated with people being weak, people being fragile and so on. But you got out of your mother's womb crying, and if you didn't, they'd make you. If you still didn't, I'm sorry, but you won't make it to read this post today. It's always been a sign of life rather than anything else, really.

It probably sounds cheesy and weak and whatever, but I've tried it. I've tried being strong, standing proud with full-on dignity and self-respect in the middle of a hard situation. I became that person I would personally admire, I'm not ashamed to be a bit narcissistic here, but I did. And you know what happened? The pain stayed. It didn't go anywhere. The pain remained as painful as when it first grew. I was strong, and admirable, but inside I'm just a mess; which is the complete opposite of what I strive to have: self-respect.

So I tried the alternative. I cried. Not so hard, because I couldn't; my pride and dignity was still lying there somewhere, but I cried anyway. And crying did me good. Crying made me feel... done. I can just say it made me feel better but maybe it's not that I felt better. I just felt like the heavyweight pain in my chest got lighter, that's all. When I was a poetic shit back in high school, I had this idea that crying is actually another excretion system just as much as what your kidney and lungs do. Perhaps our tear glands excrete whatever it is that bugs your mind and got them out so you feel lighter... and you can see the world more clearly. And, based on this article, scientifically, crying is good for us.

I'm not saying that crying solve your problems, or that crying relieves your soul, no. I'm saying that based on my experiences, crying may help take some weight off of your pain. Crying may help your pain recedes. I'm not sure why, but maybe it's because crying also means that you are big enough to admit to yourself that, yes, you're sad; yes, you're broken; yes, you wish you were in a better situation, but you're not. Because true peace comes after you make peace with the part of yourself that will never be at peace, that it will always be like that, but you make peace with it anyway. You admit it. One way of another, that is also a sign of having strength, you know? Because it is always easier to accuse someone as wrong than to point out where you actually screwed up.

Just remember to always promise yourself you'll come back stronger than before. Promise yourself that you'll come back soon. Alive. 

I know what you are

They say every single person that comes into our lives could be divided in two: either a blessing, or a lesson.

Now I know what you are. You are a lesson to me. But I guess in that way, you are a blessing too. So you can be both, really. I'll allow you.

I can't think of a time when it all went wrong, because nothing did. But something definitely happened, and I guess I should've known it's coming sooner or later, so I guess things went wrong the minute I decided to ignore the signs. And that, I guess, is my mistake. So really, I have no one to blame. Not even you.

I know I do a lot of guessing here. It's because nothing is clear enough for me, but they happen anyway. I couldn't stop them from happening, even if I wanted to. If only these things could happen with some kind of guide book, so that I would know what it all means and where this is going. But life didn't come with a manual book, and that's a shame. But... But...

Look, I'm lost for words here. I don't know what I've been writing, it's a whole bunch of complete nonsense that no one gets, because I know I don't. I guess if you wanna know how I'm doing, I'm just gonna say... I'm not sad. I'm not exactly upset. I'm just somewhere in the middle between standing on my own two feet and trying to make sense of it all. It's because I don't know if I could stand on my own two feet already, right now... and I also don't know that making sense of it all without a clear explanation from you would mean nothing. So why don't I just ask you? Well, for one, I would never understand the way you think. We're two completely different people, so trying to explain the way you think or vice versa would be such a waste of time. And energy. And two, it's because I don't know if I can stand the truth. In a way, I think we all like to hear some lies and not knowing some truths because it is more comfortable that way. And sometimes I'd rather live in comfort and try to forget the past that knowing the truth that will haunt me forever. We deserve to know the truth, but we also deserve to live in the comfort of just keep guessing.

So, I know what you are. You are a lesson to me. Honestly, before recently, I didn't know what you are. Or I did, and I thought you were a blessing. (There, I admit it. I'm big enough to admit it, why can't you?) But, happiness is fleeting. It always is. So now you are the blessing that turned out to be a lesson for me. Well, I hope I passed your lesson. I hope this lesson would come in handy someday. I don't know what I am to you, but even if I'm just a passing wind in your stormy life... I hope you know that you have the power to make someone write something about you. And words are as strong as a sword so you should always be careful. I love you. It's okay if you can't love me back. It's still love even though you can't return it. It's still love even though I try to deny it. It's still love. 

Happiness is an Underrated Word

When I was younger and emo—as in, a state of mind rather than sense of style/music/etc—I have this peculiar idea that turns out every single adolescent out there have had in mind, at least at point of their young lives: die young. There is something about adolescence that led us to think that dying young is nice; it's simpler, it's a shortcut to a more peaceful place, etc. And let's not forget some agent provocateurs who isn't necessarily pro life and promote short lives instead. I'm not talking about feeling suicidal here, it's a completely different issue because being suicidal is a much deeper and darker place that I have no rights to talk about. It's just about having that idea, you know? The idea that dying young would make everything easier.

Trust me, I've been there. So when I talk about this, even though I don't know each one of your problems that are probably even harder than mine, I actually know what it feels like. Oh sure, miss smartypants, it's always easier to say than done. I know that too. I know exactly by heart that saying is easier than doing. But let me just talk about it. For once. Because I've come from that place too, even though you won't believe it, but I did. I just don't live there anymore.

Let me tell you something. Chances are, when you are thinking that, it's only because you're sad. Because when you're sad, you see no ending to that sadness that you're feeling. People always say that the storm will pass, but when you're in middle of it, you don't know if it will; you can't see how it will end. But it will, eventually. When you finally feel happy again, you'd wonder why. Why would you think that dying young is happiness? There is still so much happiness to see in this life, that you haven't seen. I always remember the saying that just in time when you think you've seen it all, life can still surprises you. And I may not have seen so much, but I know it's true.

Here is how I view life: It's suffering. Sure, it sounds too philosophical and what are you, Plato? But life is suffering. We are all meant to suffer the entire time of our lives. Being sad is easy. It is so, so, easy. Trust me. Life can throw you so many bricks and you'll bleed. It is inevitable. But when life throws you bricks, but you can still get up and smile as if you've been hit by nothing, that is a choice. That is a brave choice. A very, very brave and strong choice. You may bleed all over the places you've been hit, but to still get up and smile, it's your choice. Bleeding, on the other hand, is not a choice. Do you see my point here?

Happiness is a choice. It is a brave choice. And people who live a long life; that old man at 92 who lives in his wheelchair and can still sing karaoke at old people gatherings, they are the bravest people that we should always look up to. At 92, pretty sure he's seen everything: the war, the ups and downs of a career, of his commitment to his family of wife and children, the rough times of getting his heart broken by disappointments in life that is just unavoidable, he's seen the worst. No one in their 20s should say that the old man has never gone through what they feel because he sure had, just maybe a different story, and a different era. And after losing so much, he would tell us, the ungrateful youth who think dying young is better, that having thought so is a disrespect to the people who actually lived a short life. Because we have so many choices. We can choose how we live our lives, we can choose to be happy, and we can even choose to end ourselves though it's highly not recommended. But people who die young—and lets not forget the unborn babies—they didn't have a choice. They weren't as lucky.

Because to live longer means that you have a chance to do more mistakes and learn from them; and then to fix them. How many of us ever thinking about fixing our mistakes? People make mistake everyday, even when you think you've had an easy day and everything was going smooth. But how many would actually try to fix those mistakes? How many actually have a chance to do so?

So, happiness is hard. It takes courage; a courage to choose, a courage to move past the  things that have let us down either we did it ourselves or not, and a courage to see the beauty of life past all of the concrete sufferings in life. A courage to believe that beyond all the misery, there is a prize worth living and fighting for. That is happiness. We always take it for granted, as if it was promised or as if it will come without us having to pursue it. But it's not. We choose it. We... strive for it. We work every day in our lives to get that happiness, even when we know how fleeting is could be.

Not choosing is a brave act too, I always remember that. But when you don't choose, eventually life will chooses you, and so your life is built on things that you didn't really want. The choices we made define us. We are defined by them, because that is how we want to live our lives. So if you don't choose, life will defines you. You will be defined by your own life, which isn't such a nice thing. But like I said, we have choices. We can choose to take that choice or leave it to life, because we're not ready to deal with the risks later; because we're not ready to find out that we did it to ourselves. We can always choose to be what kind of person we want to be, and what kind of life we want to live.

And I choose to be happy. Because it is a brave act, and because I'd rather be my own hero than waiting for someone to save me from myself. 

Further reading: The Things Happy People Know by Brianna Wiest