Dry your eyes, dry your eyes

So folks, I'm sorry to say that I'm not such an avid blogger anymore. I do come around to rant about things once in a while...especially when I'm bored but it also seems apparent that I seek refuge in my blog whenever I feel depressed. Now, what I'm posting here tonight...is just a point where I'm breaking down again. I've been crying so often, I feel a little numb over everything. Today at work, I somehow couldn't take my eyes off the escalator. My eyes were glued to the electronic stairs (can I really call it that now?) as though I was hoping to see someone who mattered. In a complete sudden, my eyes were set on a man. He wore glasses, he had thinning hair and he had a decent built. The worst part of it all was...he looked a whole lot like Uncle Swithin. Don't get me wrong; I looked at this man not because I was interested (uh...eww?) but because of how he reminded me of the legendary music man in my life. Instantly, I excused myself to the toilet and cried. I don't know why I did, but I just couldn't help it. What's wrong with me, eh? Anyway, that being that...I suppose I'm still learning to accept the death of people in my life who matter...especially the loss of Acha which kind of impacted me. A lot. I'm having a difficult time having to move on, having to pretend that it's okay and having to remember that a lot more are in the line up to such a fate. I'm not ready. I'm not prepared. I may never be.

Well, that asides...here's a post as inspired by Miss Low Sue Yin (whose blog is a completely dead space. Your futile attempts in rescuing it is going down the drain, my dearest sister) whom I was speaking to about a good half hour earlier. And now imagine the topic of our conversation. Blackberry(s) and iPhone(s). Two gadgets that almost everyone seems to be owning and something that almost everyone wants to lay their hands on. It would be a lie if I say that I don't belong in that group because let's face it...it's a freaking cool piece of crap. But here's another point...do we really need that gadget? Or are we just a generation who is engulfed in the matters and are people submitting to peer pressure?

Now that we're on the pathway of growing up; a stage in what we call life where we're most often labelled "the misunderstood" or "the rebellious" but none who would see as that we are "the confused"; aren't we left to fend for ourselves? And this thing we call peer pressure; is it good or is it bad? Is it really necessary? And really...what is the point? Does it make us any less cool that we're non smokers? Does it make us any less pretty if we don't dress up in tight skirts or skimpy clothes? Does it make us any different if we do not look into wearing make up nor do we condemn it?

I'm going to let you in my mind. It's because of a thing we call fear. We're all humans and we all have our fears. Somehow this fear is unlike any other. It is a fear that most people have. It is common and it is relevant. But here I am, speaking from my point of view. I call it the fear of being left out. It is the fear of being branded. A branding we know as "loner". The same thing we use to address people who are apparently "weird" or people who are apparently "creepy". Do we really need it? Does branding really help in telling you the story of that person? Do you really understand that person as such? Would you understand the hurt they've gone through or the obstacles they've once overcame? Does the branding tell you anything beyond the skin of that person?

Personally, I'm afraid of being called a loner. I'm afraid of being branded. Slut. Whore. Weirdo. Freak. Klutz. Stupid. Slow. Retard. Fatty. Shorty. Where do I stand? What runs in the minds of people who are with me? Do they mean what they're saying? Yes, I admit. I have these insecurities in me. It is what makes me who I am. It is what makes me imperfect. It is what makes me a person who is whole and a person who is trying hard to stand out from the rest. And here's another thing apparent. I am someone who belongs no where. I don't belong here nor there. Like a lost soldier, I am only marching on. Like a lost puppy, I am only seeking for an exit. Like a lost soul, I am only wandering an empty land and I am only searching for a sanctuary I can call my own. Like the person I stand to be...I just am a girl who's trying hard to grow up and understand.

I pray hard that I could sleep tonight without waking up in between. I pray hard that tonight would be a night that I wouldn't have to cry alone. I pray...I just pray that I live.

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