Both parties suffering as we speak.

Both hearts aching, 

having nothing else to say.

Both pierced deeply as though stabbed with a dagger.

One pierced with hurt and agony.

With the other pierced with confusion and sadness.

Neither party speaks a word.

Or so, shut them away and speak no more.

For tonight must be one without screaming, one without fights.

As these nights filled with hatred, blood and gore.

Shut your eyes and close them tight.

Don't run yet try to forget those words echoing in your head.

"Never, Forever and always love"," Ashamed..", "Deserve better.." , "Worst.."

Then comes the silence.

Please speak no more.

It hurts.

(Been gone for a while)

Imagine, coming home with a new haircut, something you like.
Shaved sides, spiked up.

Domestic helper, yes, whom hardly deserves any form of respect right now, maid, came in to my room, and said??? "Disgusting."

Days ago, she muttered under her breath, "Fucking lesbians.."

Few days ago.

Parents asked me.

Every single they word they said just took me by surprise.

“What is this, “love” thing I’m hearing about.”

“Are you, or not?”

“I do not wish for you or my daughter to follow and go down such a path cause you do not deserve it.”

Etc.

Every word, I listened, of course. And I do admit that the fact that they’ve have come to such a realisation despite due to my own actions but mostly due to bloody third parties who have no bloody right to speak a bloody word.

Despite my dad’s constant shouting and my mum’s calm yet stern words, I do understand that every single thing they say is for my own good and cause they love me. As in, which parent wouldn’t be worried?

Throughout the whole 45 minutes, every single word my mum said was so true. From how I was from a young kid to me today and my character. Every word she spoke was as though she was so close to me, as though I’ve been telling her all my troubles despite me trying to keep my distance.

“Your character doesn’t deserve to be eroded or destroyed by another be it through restriction or under influence.”

“You do not deserve to have any heartache and do not want you to regret when you feel hurt.”

“I know my kids very well and out of the three of you, you are the most emotional one, who cares most bout others and is extremely kind hearted who places others before yourself. And of course, highly dependent on human interaction.”

“I do not want to hear anymore quarrelling.”

“Ruth, trust me, it may seem as though I do not know much, but honestly? I know a lot more than I seem to know. I just choose not to scold you or reprimand you for it.”

Her somewhat exact words.

And of course many others.

My parents talked to me being a better kid and what not, and when my mum told me once again bout how much she misses that “sweet and kind, cute daughter” (quote her) of hers, it really made my heart clench and hurt to a certain extent. I felt so horrible and it made me think why I chose to keep my distance since years ago.

Then the whole thought and recalling of my unsuccessful attempts of trying to talk to her bout my friendship problems when I was way younger. And everytime I was on the verge of crying bout my friend issues? She would tell me,
“At the end of the day, you should never care cause its always gonna be you and when you grow older, youll figure out how you only have yourself to depend on. No one else.” 
And being that stupid, immature small kid I once were, I never understood. But today? Being a lot older, matured and all. It finally hit me that her words do indeed make sense.

All this while she has been trying to connect with me emotionally, especially after my sis going overseas to study, I’ve been hurting her over and over again yet she kept it all inside of her.

And today, she protected me by helping me prevent being bombarded by fucked up questions by one of the peeps who exposed me.. and worse. Shes related in my family tree.

I do love my mum. And alike to the young me, extremely protective over her and her words to matter to me.

However, mum. I do love you and I will definitely listen to your words and heed your advice but when it comes to you telling me  "not to go down this route”, “never going to be a man”, “that you (I) have girl genes” and your offers “to buy you (me) pretty dresses or skirts whenever I want them”. I’m sorry mum, this is me and its not exactly something that can change overnight. But I definitely will keep my promises bout being a better kid.

Why so? I can’t keep away from this girl. Be who I am. Who I like.

And whoever asks me why so?

Tell the day you are in my shoes, are in my place. You’ll never understand.

But for now, lets imagine you are me.

Till that day you actually get to see

The thought of how it all started off when I heard bout her, till that night, waiting hours despite how late it was and her hardly even knowing me. The constant texting and blushing….. Till today, the exchanging of words of love and glances as we signal to one another bout the weirdest things.

Till the day you see from my eyes, that beautiful girl standing right infront of me. How much I just love her eyes and the way your eyes literally sparkle whenever she sees me. How much I adore her weird behaviour, be it giving her most spastic of behaviours to the literally lamest, and even lamer than your truly’s (yeah, that’s how bad it is!) own actions. How much my heart melts whenever she gives me her puppy dog eyes whenever she pisses the hell out of me or perhaps late for a date. How the feeling of her arms around me whenever I feel upset, scared or stressed just makes me feel so safe and know that I’m not alone. And of course, the feeling of her in arms just leaving me never wanting to let go and progress by attempting to carry her and lift her off the ground while shes left that wailing and screaming for me to let her down. How the feeling of her fingers intertwining with my own just makes me happy and urging to pull her close and just hug her till she can’t breathe and is left gasping for air like a helpless goldfish or sometimes pull her towards me as she twirls like one of those dancers and into my arms. How she knows whenever I feel upset or stressed and ruffles my hair and massages the back of my neck to help me relax. How she makes me laugh and smile on the most depressing of days with her weird ways and “sizist and witty” humour. How she tries to “force” me to get back in touch with my Disney and oldies side by introducing me nothing but Disney and oldies despite her amazing taste in fast beat music. How she never fails to surprise me whenever we go out be it to disturb me or cheer me up with the pre-buying me of gong cha on a sad day. How she is constantly coming up with the craziest and cutest nicknames for me, leaving us both laughing at how absurd they are while I attempt to retaliate with sad and pathetic ones. How she actually stands my weird cheesy humour and constant pick up lines with her asking if I found them on google. How she actually does laugh at my sad jokes and drawings of bug-eyed people. How she anticipates my kisses and sometimes even the weirdest of things such as farts whenever we are poking fun at one another. How she literally adores Edna Mode to such an extent shes actually deliberately imitating her via the webcam just to help me de-stress while mimicing her voice and actions accurately.

Etc.

To the slightest of details such as..

How her nose crinkles and wiggles like a bunny whenever shes sleeping. How she has the cutest of sneezes that literally goes “ha-chI!” (high pitced). How her eye twitches and her voice going a tone higher as she goes, “really?!?” with her spastic face whenever I disturb her. How she twitches in her sleep. How her smile progresses from a bite of the lip, to the half smile to the full smile whenever I tell her I love her. How she sometimes struts unconsciously whenever she walks due to walking lessons when she was hunger. How she is constantly quoting the movie, “White Chicks” in her every day life. How she never fails to reach out and touch a pillow that we may have walked past. How her eyes would become LARGE and grin extremely “pervert-ically” whenever she sees a “vertically challenged kid and exclaim how “fat” and “cute” he or she may be. How she makes sure the pillow is always under the bolster when she is sitting up but the opposite when she sleeps.

Etc.

And till the day you know how amazing it is to have sleepovers with that girl. The feeling of your arm around them and holding them close before slumber. That feeling of knowing that they will be safe in your arms and knowing that they are alright. That ability to see her breathing slowly with her stress-free and oily face when you wake up before she does. That ability to stay up all night laughing and freaking out at movies.

How she actually tells you she wants it all to work out. How she tries her best to do whatever she can to make sure I'm alright. How she cries whenever I cry. How she does take effort to fill up all the loopholes in our relationship.

How would you know if you can trust someone? That can be judged through how whenever you reach your hand out backwards and walk on, you KNOW for a fact that that person would grab on to it and walk along with you.

Yes she has her flaws and attributes which I may not like and love totally, but still. Its her imperfections that make her perfect in my eyes.

Hence so, I am making such a choice today.
How could I be so sure?
Its just that constant want inside of you wanting to keep her safe and make sure shes alright, that makes me positive of such a choice.

---
Right now, words echo in my head. Words I swear, I would never forget.
Lost for words and unsure of how to find them to shape it into words understandable to the human ear.

Goodnight.

 

Prelims right now and havent had been feeling too good for the past few days. And of course, guilty as well. Why so? Mr procrastination succeeded in luring me into his clutches of "slothfulness".

Sigh. Feeling extremely heavy hearted at the moment and in alot of pain due to cramps.. urgh.

Whatever it may be, just got to hang in there for a few more days and just make up for all the lacked sleep in just 3 days. Come on, just 3 more days Ruth.

Then the following week, no more procrastination, and with, hopefully, full engines running.

The worlds such a huge place.
You try to face it courageously.
Yet. Always..
The different faces snarling and mocking you.
Despite such,
you continue walking and keep your head held high.
They begin to throw rocks at you,
leaving you bruised as you attempt to walk away from them.
Still, you keep your head high,
quickening your pace as you just want to get away.
Their physical hurt turn emotional as they start laughing at you.
Pointing. Jeering. Heartless laughing.
Afraid, you just keep walking,
putting on a strong facade to prevent revealing your vulnerability.

Suddenly, you feel yourself falling..
Falling onto a chair as you are in a room of pitch darkness.
Dark and lonely,
with nothing but a light shining down above your head,
giving you all the company you need.

..
"Who are you."
"What do you want to be."
"Why are you doing what you are doing."
"Where do you think you can go at such a pathetic state."
"Do you honestly think you can go far with this?"
"You are inferior."

The voices don't stop talking. They never do.
No physical beings, just voices.
Thats how they always appear to be.
You hear them. Be it from your head or from them themselves,
but never touchable. Never stoppable.

You remain in the darkness, clutching your head in despair.
Finally, you lower your head.
Begging to the voices to just leave you alone.

-
The darkness symbolises vulnerability. Not know whats around you, not knowing what is infront or behind you or anything being visible to the naked eye.

The voices lacking its physical beings symbolise the helplessness of the individual and the incapability to run away from them. Additionally, personified as shown to having a somewhat similar human trait of walking along with the "hopeless individual" and ability to move and throw objects.

Always there, but never touchable as the individual is left unable to make any change to the situation as the "voice" is not within a suitable distance to be touched or punched in the face in any way.

Surviving.

 

Perfection.
What exactly is the definition of such an extraordinary word?
Ah. There you see,
we would have never thought of it as “extraordinary”, would we?
Okay, perhaps you with the mickey mouse hat might have thought it,
but back to where we were..
Why so?
It is not as bombastic as other words such as … (you name it)
But then, that’s the art of its simplistic complication.
Maybe I make no sense here, but think.

Perfection.
What exactly, IS “perfection”?
There is no specific definition for the word.
Search it up on the dictionary,
“the condition, state, or quality of being free or as free as possible from all flaws or defects”
But, what EXACTLY, is its definition.
Whoever made this word?
You, my friend, have my utmost respects.

For such an ordinary word, is out of the ordinary.

Next step. Disappointment.
Now, this is when the complication turns even more bizarre and unknown to the human race.

If only.
There would be no complication but just plain simplicity.
Mere images of black and white.

Somehow. My shoulders are feeling heavier and heavier as each day passes by..
So drained..

The picture above says it all.

Sometimes I'm left wondering what would happen if I actually did, choose the other academic route instead of backing up last minute..
Would life be a lot more tough than it is? Or would it be more enjoyable due to interest and a more relaxed lifestyle during the holidays?
But yet, as they always say..
"The grass is much greener on the other side."

And fact is? We are on THIS patch of grass, so shut up. Eat it like a cow and work like one >:(

 Up and barely awake..
Trying to catch up on at least a considerable amount of studying to make up for the past few days of "no studying" due to the fever and staying in bed..
And feeling even worse right now cause my baby fell ill after coming over yesterday to take care of me.. sigh.
Hope she gets well soon ):

Tomorrow she'll be coming over and it will be my turn taking care of her. Sigh. Worried sick. Gonna make my bed early tomorrow, make it presentable just for her and move my desk nearer to my bed so she won't be alone while I'm studying.
Even so, at least I'll physically be in reaching distance to tend to her when shes coughing badly or in need of any assistance.
I owe this girl, BIG time ):

Back to work ):
Peace.

The words echo as though alike to a curse.
"Attitude… Hatred… Don't love you…"
The whispering continues.
"Stupid… Behave like a child… Gave you everything…"
These whispers emerge from pitch darkness.
"Disappointment… Don't tell you anything…"
These words accompanied with heavy sighs and unclear mutterings.
Slowly, these words turn from hatred and anger to insecurity, hurt.
"Scared… Afraid…"
The voice tries to put on a brave front as it sniggers with pride.
But yet.
The voice begins to quaver.
"Don't want to be second."

Little does that voice know, how it would never be second.
Little does that voice know, how much it is loved.
Little does that voice know, how much unnecessary burden it is placing upon itself.
Little does that voice know, how much I love you.

 

I feel HUN-GARY ):
someone help me ): I CANNOT stop eating ):

Prelims are coming up and have bee really ill for the past few days which isn't exactly the best thing that should ever happen when the all dreaded prelims, are approaching. sigh.

Have been lacking motivation but its time to get back to work and action.

So much have been happening recently and it really makes one think.

From Shakespeare's As You Like It, 1600:

JAQUES:
All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players:
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. At first the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.
And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice,
In fair round belly with good capon lined,
With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side,
His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.

Full respect for Shakespeare.