Think I Look Down on My People?

Not that I despise them so much. Not that I think whatever comes from my people is a huge tank full of craps. That's unfair for people to see me in that light. Cuz I do appreciate local acts. The brilliant, honest, eccentric ones. And how many works can be put under those umbrellas?

Take it this way.
You play Command & Conquer, you're pretty much geared up for level 10 and suddenly the game sets you to go back to level 2. Or, a bunch of students copy paste materials from the net and insist the writing is theirs despite being shown the internet version of "their" assignment on their face. Or, even more pathetic, a bunch of students fight for "their" work but go dead silent when asked to explain an excerpt of it. Ok, too much student talk. Anyway, these things would've made anyone feel pissy. Gives you the who-do-you-take-me-for moment.

So, I don't go yacking about how I watch local dramas, listen to local songs. Doesnt mean I betray local acts. 
And those overly famed works. I watch, doesn't mean I enjoy. It's for the fun of it. Thst kind of fun.


*  Please..Do watch the more humble stuffs. They teach us a thing or two that mainstream productions are too proud to bring up

 

So this happens again

"and I want you to know you're doing this to yourself"


She's bleeding.
She creates the wounds. But no one can tell her that. She has to see it herself, when she comes to her senses. There's just too much negativity that blindfolds her.

I want to tell her but I might become an enemy. So I only write. And I feel heavy

There's This Voice in My Head

"Just don't.  You're not in  any way entitled to boast that your piece of mind is wayyy above everyone else. How your brain functions ain't similar to theirs. Why compare. Scratch that. Comparison is not the issue here. Why put your head in a rocket and zoom it high up in space. Your bulb and their bulbs aren't identical. You see things in a different light.

So you hate listening to their copy-pasted commentary. So their cookie-cutter view of the world is pulling teeth. So the small bunches of your kind make you feel extra limited edition.

Is it an attempt to make you accept you, as you wonder why you hardly find a place among them? It could be your attempt to cover your insecurity for feeling out of place, for feeling not-one-of-them.

No one likes a braggart. Be careful when you try to speak up. While your intention is to make them keep the cookie cutter in the drawer, you might end up being the one that talks too much. They don't see your point, leave. Do it with style, keep your cool the Harvey Spector way. Keep your mind for those who matter to you."


Yes, I'm talking to you, self.

I want to win the inner battle again, like how I used to

I've made several promises. Promises to myself, self-assured that those would be kept. I didn't. I've failed to keep my word. And what makes it even more horrible is that I've not cleansed myself. I've tried and and I fell for it again. I've not fully repented. I'm scared of how munafiq I might become.

self-lament

I looked at how my friends wore fabric shoes. Cool!! Converse was too mainstream. The ones bought on the street or blogs were much more appealing. Guys with white t painted with a few splashes of paint, fabric sneakers, fabric bag, worn out checkered shirt, swoon...
Now I see the students walk to class wearing fabric shoes. I like it a lot. Cool!!! My job doesn't allow me to wear such footwear, so I make my brother get something like those. I'm so much into cool, inexpensive stuffs. How I wish to go to Pipit, flea markets and such where uniqueness and creativity are overflowing. Awesomeness!

***********************

I was envious of them friends, coursemates, classmates, etc. How could they afford Zara, MNG, Roxy, Esprit and the likes? How could students wear Dorothy Perkins to class as if it's just some kind pasar malam outfits? Being able to splurge my study loan on a few pieces of Forever21 was big enough for me.
When everyone is in deep sleep, I turn on my laptop to browse the flashy things flashy people wear. I even calculate my saving, how much do I need to cut from my food to get a pre-loved Balenciaga. Cuz I saw someone carrying the original LV. I think I need to get something from the high end labels too. I want to look exquisite. Dabbing Clinique moisturiser and carrying Givenchy. Perfection.

***********************

These two things contradict each other. As much as I want to be an individual, seen as an individual, I'm still blinded by things that blindfold other lost people. As much as I want to value internal qualities, I still gravitate towards superficiality. I'm still lying to myself. I'm still indecisive as to which path is ME

Mentally adolescent

The child in me screams it's full of lies, filth. The adult in me comforts, "read, watch and think like a grown up." The adult's visit is comparable to the sun during winter.

It's a shame. I'm in denial, running away from it as not to create pain in my head, refusing to dig and sort and detangle. It's easier to just indulge in world full of colours, superficial beauty, passive readings, mindless music.

I've talked and argued. With skimpy pov, merely opinionated, backed up with insubstantial substance. That's the most politic-warrior act I've ever been

I thought that would be enough. I'm still tender, lets not spoil my life. Till I met those young minds.

She might look like another carefree urbanite yet she's capable of mouthing matured talks. She didn't have to, I didn't ask her but she wrote about her observation of the authority vs people's interest.

He has started early. Reading, thinking, talking politics and society when at such age, my world was filled with Britney and the likes.

They are a lot younger than me, they are students. I'm 26, I teach. And that's a slap that leaves sorely red marks

I'm just guarding myself

I value money
I feel pain
I sometimes face financial crises
I have tight budget
I just kick it aside so it won't top my list of concerns
so that i'd feel more grateful for other things not measured by notes and bills
so that my black heart becomes whiter

After all, I grew up wishing for a pair of jeans would miraculously appear in the laundry basket
My saving account bears pitiful number but hey my life is soooo much better than those days
So please, please don't erase that from my memory. I'm trying hard to make myself grateful for the blessings I get every day
Being a slave, trading parts of me that are still pure, betraying my belief for the sake of money in bulk
Please, I'm trying not to be those whom I've scoffed for their devotion to money

Ya Allah, Alhamdulillah...Your blessings are beyond description