special k
Q: Are you tired of me?
A: See, that's where most people make the mistake. They think that when someone says I'm so tired, it means he/she is tired of the listener. Truth is, whoever who thought that is bloody wrong. And the funny thing is, it's Are you tired of ME?, not Why are YOU tired? And once you tell he/she that no, you're not tired of he/she, he/she (ah fuck it, say HE and solve this gender equality shite) would be relieved then. And go merrily on his way, happily pleased that said person is still fascinated with him.
Q: What are you listening to right now?
A: Placebo. Tells you a lot, doesn't it? And if it doesn't, then too bad.
Q: Which came first, the work or the kid?
A: Work. Without work, the kid is basically a useless liability.
Q: What do you think you'll remember most about suburban life?
A: Not the convenience of having every thing I need practically at my doorstep. It's the loneliness, more like. You can almost pretend that everyone's dead when the roads are empty in the afternoon.
Q: Why are you so angry?
A: Because it's always about How am I instead of How are you. Yeah, several people do ask How are you, then they'll inevitably go back to How am I. Question: Do you ask how I'm doing because you really want to know, or because it's a good opening line for a conversation?
Q: Are you accusing me of anything?
A: Perhaps.
Q: What the hell are you talking about here?
A: Myself. That's why this blog exists, you nut. At least I don't bombard you with pictures of me trying to act cute and pretty. I know I'm not, so I'm kind enough not to do that. Besides, you're supposed to read more. Malaysians only read two books a year, and I'm trying to get you to read more. Even this shite is material for reading.
Q: You sound like something's bothering you. Are you okay?
A: Relatively okay. I think I snapped a few days ago already. Been doing a lot of not-talking. I'd stop talking if I could.
Q: So why are you writing this? You're talking, in a way.
A: Because it's a good way to vent my feelings, you stupid nut.
Q: Are things that bad?
A: Not really. But it doesn't help that people are either: a) uninterested, b) too busy, c) too concerned with my being rude or d) not making the effort to understand when I try to tell them what's bothering me.
Q: So really. How are you now?
A: Fucked up. I'll probably become "less mature and emotionally hardened", according to some shite RD article about kids with problems. For once the asses got something right.
Q: It's surprising, to see you swear. I thought you're a pretty good kid.
A: Whatever. I hear worse things from the people around me, if you want to know.
Q: Maybe you're just tired. Why don't you go sleep?
A: I did. For four hours, from 6 to 10. Before she came in and demanded loudly to know why I keep sleeping at odd hours. Of course, you didn't take into consideration the fact that my classes ended at 4 today. You weren't around to know how tired I was when I came home.
Q: Why don't you try talking?
A: Because I keep being told off? I'm rude, aren't I, spoilt and rude and selfish.
I haven't heard you tell me that I've done something well. It's always my faults that you pick on. "You're selfish; you're mean; you're self-centred; you're spoilt; you don't know what it's like to suffer." And the best line of all times: "You're stupid." I know. You don't have to tell me. I fucking know.
Yep, you say that you don't really mean it when you say that. And most of the time, you don't. But over time, it's psychologically damaging if someone keeps telling you that. And though I know better than to take what you say seriously, I kind of end up internalizing those words.
Q: Really. Are you okay?
A: Issues. I wonder whether it was that time when I was 8 that changed me. Or was it later?
Q: Don't you know that I'm just concerned for you?
A: When you have nothing better to worry about?
Q: Someone is going to comment: "Lynn, I didn't know you could be like that!" Am I right?
A: Most people think I'm a giddy, happy person. I am, half the time. The other half, I turn into some self-destructive, morose loner who despairs that life means anything in the first place.If you think that I'm being too dramatic, well you can always stop reading. Nobody's stopping you.
Q: How come you didn't say earlier? Stressed out about homework is it?
A: How can I be stressed out? You yourself say that AUP is such an easy program compared to others, like, say, A Levels. How can I be stressed out now? You tell me.
You know something about people? You're only interesting to listen and talk to when you're happy and making your usual jokes. When you're down and out, people - even friends - tend to melt off. It's reciprocal, I know, but it just makes things worse.
Of course, most people don't realise this.
Q: That's it. I'm off.
A: Have a nice day. Go resume your bloody perfect life, why don't you.
Yay.
What's so great about the truth? Try lying for a change, it's the currency of the world. ~ Closer
See that PostSecret card up there?
Well at least someone somewhere is happy.
A: See, that's where most people make the mistake. They think that when someone says I'm so tired, it means he/she is tired of the listener. Truth is, whoever who thought that is bloody wrong. And the funny thing is, it's Are you tired of ME?, not Why are YOU tired? And once you tell he/she that no, you're not tired of he/she, he/she (ah fuck it, say HE and solve this gender equality shite) would be relieved then. And go merrily on his way, happily pleased that said person is still fascinated with him.
Q: What are you listening to right now?
A: Placebo. Tells you a lot, doesn't it? And if it doesn't, then too bad.
Q: Which came first, the work or the kid?
A: Work. Without work, the kid is basically a useless liability.
Q: What do you think you'll remember most about suburban life?
A: Not the convenience of having every thing I need practically at my doorstep. It's the loneliness, more like. You can almost pretend that everyone's dead when the roads are empty in the afternoon.
Q: Why are you so angry?
A: Because it's always about How am I instead of How are you. Yeah, several people do ask How are you, then they'll inevitably go back to How am I. Question: Do you ask how I'm doing because you really want to know, or because it's a good opening line for a conversation?
Q: Are you accusing me of anything?
A: Perhaps.
Q: What the hell are you talking about here?
A: Myself. That's why this blog exists, you nut. At least I don't bombard you with pictures of me trying to act cute and pretty. I know I'm not, so I'm kind enough not to do that. Besides, you're supposed to read more. Malaysians only read two books a year, and I'm trying to get you to read more. Even this shite is material for reading.
Q: You sound like something's bothering you. Are you okay?
A: Relatively okay. I think I snapped a few days ago already. Been doing a lot of not-talking. I'd stop talking if I could.
Q: So why are you writing this? You're talking, in a way.
A: Because it's a good way to vent my feelings, you stupid nut.
Q: Are things that bad?
A: Not really. But it doesn't help that people are either: a) uninterested, b) too busy, c) too concerned with my being rude or d) not making the effort to understand when I try to tell them what's bothering me.
Q: So really. How are you now?
A: Fucked up. I'll probably become "less mature and emotionally hardened", according to some shite RD article about kids with problems. For once the asses got something right.
Q: It's surprising, to see you swear. I thought you're a pretty good kid.
A: Whatever. I hear worse things from the people around me, if you want to know.
Q: Maybe you're just tired. Why don't you go sleep?
A: I did. For four hours, from 6 to 10. Before she came in and demanded loudly to know why I keep sleeping at odd hours. Of course, you didn't take into consideration the fact that my classes ended at 4 today. You weren't around to know how tired I was when I came home.
Q: Why don't you try talking?
A: Because I keep being told off? I'm rude, aren't I, spoilt and rude and selfish.
I haven't heard you tell me that I've done something well. It's always my faults that you pick on. "You're selfish; you're mean; you're self-centred; you're spoilt; you don't know what it's like to suffer." And the best line of all times: "You're stupid." I know. You don't have to tell me. I fucking know.
Yep, you say that you don't really mean it when you say that. And most of the time, you don't. But over time, it's psychologically damaging if someone keeps telling you that. And though I know better than to take what you say seriously, I kind of end up internalizing those words.
Q: Really. Are you okay?
A: Issues. I wonder whether it was that time when I was 8 that changed me. Or was it later?
Q: Don't you know that I'm just concerned for you?
A: When you have nothing better to worry about?
Q: Someone is going to comment: "Lynn, I didn't know you could be like that!" Am I right?
A: Most people think I'm a giddy, happy person. I am, half the time. The other half, I turn into some self-destructive, morose loner who despairs that life means anything in the first place.If you think that I'm being too dramatic, well you can always stop reading. Nobody's stopping you.
Q: How come you didn't say earlier? Stressed out about homework is it?
A: How can I be stressed out? You yourself say that AUP is such an easy program compared to others, like, say, A Levels. How can I be stressed out now? You tell me.
You know something about people? You're only interesting to listen and talk to when you're happy and making your usual jokes. When you're down and out, people - even friends - tend to melt off. It's reciprocal, I know, but it just makes things worse.
Of course, most people don't realise this.
Q: That's it. I'm off.
A: Have a nice day. Go resume your bloody perfect life, why don't you.
Yay.
What's so great about the truth? Try lying for a change, it's the currency of the world. ~ Closer
See that PostSecret card up there?
Well at least someone somewhere is happy.
posted by Lynn at
11:29 pm
2 Comments:
I dont mind seeing someone's depressing side. It makes one more human. It selfish on my part I suppose, but I feel like we're rather on same platform in times like those.
And for the record, I dont ask questions I dont want to hear an answer to. So if I ask, how are you? I mean How are YOU? most exclusively.
If you're gonna break down and cry or try take a swing at me, or worse flip me off, then so be it.
I'm asking.
You're intelligent. You are pretty (in fact, i'm jealous that you look good in both shorts and long cargo pants...i never seem to find the right fit...)
And really...if you're talking degree, you're talking higher expectations, higher levels of difficulty and of course, all not complete if not included with higher levels of stress.
Those jerks who say A levels are harder basically wont know what hit them went they move up the education ladder. It's all about how much you can swallow and vomit out is what matters. Anyway its not about where you are right now, its more where you'll be later.
You dont have to be happy all the time. It's like a stuation where a gay man can point out another gay man a straight man would never have guessed was a gay man. You're interesting to listen to whichever extreme you are.
And I dont want to speculate too much, cause it seems rather personal so I'll leave it at that. You have an open invitation to pick up your phone and gimme a call.
Friends are a weird bunch sometimes. Things which are not suppose to scare them by the laws of friendship, actually does. like tears. And lack of verbal communication. There are few who'd listen. Locate and lock on.
And thank you for Salvador Dali. He's the guy I've been looking for.
See we have these paintings round the halls of my college and I've always been fascinated by them even if the majority think they're weird and most just walk by.
I like em. and checking out a gallery link in wiki, I found a number of paintings that are on display in college. I'm sort of glad. It's been bugging me for quite a while.
Take care and all the best for your tests!
Thanks Ameera! :)
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