Sunday, June 18, 2006

It's sad when you don't get the praises you deserve.
It's sad when you don't get the acknowledgement from people.
It's sad when you don't get the respect from others.
It's sad when people don't realise what they say actually left a deep scar in you.
It's sad when people don't realise how they just destroyed your day by making one insensitive comment.
It's sad when people don't realise that they actually made you feel like a complete waste of resources with the comments they make.
It's sad when people don't realise just how much effort you placed into making something for them.
It's sad when people don't realise they are actually the cause of all the sadness that you are going through.

It's sad. It really is. It's really freaking sad to get results that don't really reflect your actual effort. It's really freaking sad to receive comments and feedback that doesn't really show your actual self-worth. You put in a lot of effort, thinking that it would bring back results, only to be let down by the actual cold hard reality. You feel like a fool, putting so much effort into something that meant so much to you. But then, what do you get at the end of the day? Nothing. You thought people around you would appreciate and know that you tried your best. But then, all you hear are comments like, "Why didn't you do better than this?" or "Why like that?" You feel like the whole world is crashing down on you. I'm sure we've all been through stuff like this before. You feel super angry and upset that nobody knows what you are going through. Well, much as we are upset over stuff and how people just don't know how hard we're actually already trying, we have to pause and remember, they are not us. Only we know ourselves. Nobody bothers about what crap we're going through. Nobody will even bother to get themselves into the kind of problems we're facing so that they can understand and tell us what to do or offer kind words of comfort. C'mon guys, let's face it. We're all selfish. If we can avoid problems, we will do so. Who on earth in the right mind, would go through all the problems that his friends are going through so as to know how they are feeling? So before we get angry over people who don't appreciate us for what we are or who we are or whatever we have accomplished, let's just rejoice that they are not us. They will never be us, and they can never know what we're going through.

It's depressing when people don't notice the hard work that you put in. People only care about results. Results have the final say. Who cares whether or not you did 100 C.Math sums the week before to prepare for your exams, when at the end of the day you failed it by 1 mark? People only bother about the fact that you freaking failed your Math test. That's the bottomline. Who cares whether or not it's by 1 mark or by 10 marks? The thing is that you failed and that is all that is important. Nobody cared that I worked my pants off for my subjects during the O levels. All they care about is the fact that I scored a freaking 16 for it. And that's the cold hard truth. Who cares whether or not you did your best or whether or not you tried? They only care about results. And you dare tell me that process is more important than results? I'll spit at that remark and tell you in the face that I've been through enough to tell you that processes are not important. It's the results that people out there are interested in. Don't bother telling me that my thinking is wrong or whatever. Ask yourself, have you been through all that rubbish of not getting praises and acknowledgements for your effort even though you didn't exactly do well? Or that even when you think you did well, did you even get a single praise for it?

Who cares about whether or not you do 150 crunches every night when they still don't see those abs of yours? Nobody cares. All that is important is whether or not you have those rock-hard abs on that small lil area at your meat section. Cold hard reality? We just have to live with it. Much as we try to make our lives positive and interesting, we cannot seem to fail to be reminded about the harsh facts of reality. And try living in a family and being raised in a way that nothing seems to be good enough to satisfy that dad of yours. Nothing seems to be enough. I'm so sick and tired of having to explain why didn't I get 75 for Math when i got 70. I'm so sick of having to explain why didn't I pass History and got a F instead. I'm so sick of having to explain why don't I seem to be studying whenever he is at home. I know my family is far from being disfunctional but I've got a weird feeling that anytime soon, that brain of mine and that sanity of mine is going to malfunction and disfunction. My life revolves around these few things:
1. My laptop with a desktop picture that constantly reminds me of the reason to live.
2. My mobile phone with the same picture that constantly reminds me of the reason to live.
3. My mp3 player that allows me to be detatched from reality for the time being.
4. CO practices. Much as people pass it off as boring and try their very best to escape from it's clutches, I attend it willingly 'cos it seems like it's the only place where I can remain sane.
5. This blog. This blog holds too much stuff. It's become part of me, as it records each and every significant moment in my life. From that very first entry all the way to the very latest one. Each and every entry, is something that I cherish. Much as the standard of english is appalling at times, I still see it as something that is perfect.
6. My room. It is the only place where I can find solace. It has my favourite bed. It has a mirror to constantly remind myself that I must become what I want to be before I can even talk about wanting to go after that girl or whoever.

I dream of getting my own chateau. To be more exact, my very own Chateau en Espagne, or castle in the air. Now isn't that romantic? Sitting by the fire, sipping champagne with her by the side. Ah yes, with that brown beagle on the carpetted floor, lazing around, occasionally looking at it's owner with those beautiful black eyes. Fantasies. They never seem to cease to exist. Dreams. That's what drives people on. Yes. Dreams. Dream on, my friend. You never know what your imagination is capable of.

Well, at least I'm lucky enough to have friends around me who constantly remind me that life is good 'cos of them. Life will only be as good as we make them to be.

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People say I'm obsessed. I say I'm crazy. People say I'm mad. I say I'm not. So what am I really? Obsessed? Crazy? Mad? I don't know. Stuff that goes on in that lil anatomy of mine is rather fascinating. I cannot seem to comprehend how emotions are created and can never seem to justify them. I marvel only at the fact that I have an anatomy of such wonderful powers. It never ceases to amaze me. Interesting.

I hardly even know her. But yet I can get so obsessed over her. Now that's what I call fascinating.

But now, I'm stuck in reality where the locks are ever so tight and hearts are so cold and hard but yet, heavy as well.

-js-