dreams, dreams.

Dreams. Today, I ask  this question, “Do dreams have to be realistic?”. Many of us may have known the answer already; it doesn’t have to be. Do I even have dreams to begin with, I’m already 19 (18 turning 19) and I can’t imagine what I’ll be doing in 10 years, or even 5 years time. I don’t even know whether I do think of what I’ll be doing in the future. An unemployed graduate? Or even not. A loafer who idles her time away rummaging through old stuff to get the sparkly, reminiscing feeling back, could probably be walking down the streets on really late nights sometimes with a few closed ones/alone to savor life outside Home without any form awkward interactions with people, playing and talking to my cat (that I’ll get one in the near future) because some of us knows how pets understand us better than anyone else; personal experience would be – it always makes me feel better talking to my late pet fish in the past.

I quit this negativity and I can always remember a dream I used to have and I guess it’ll always be in my mind. When I was 12, I was told to pen down my dream in this piece of paper, that I got to keep but probably lost it in the mess. I wanted to make a speech, related to saving the planet & the environment, in front of an audience. Now to think about it, it’s ironic because I dread to fulfill this dream, yet I know it’d be a personal breakthrough if I can talk about something I’ve believed in. Because I’m not an outspoken person, thus I said I dread making this speech. ‘Believed’ because now I ain’t anywhere near an earthling doing her own part for the planet. Lots of meat and hot showers – I should minimize that. To talk about it, I’d mean to express my genuine thoughts about it, instead of reading off a speech scripted by an important person. It doesn’t matter if I don’t have a crowd as an audience because there’s no reason why they should be listening to it, I guess it would be once I do make a speech of my own to just 1 person. 

Dream when I was 12. As we get older, you find yourself drifting further away from your belief in dreams like this. Maybe it’s just me. Earlier this week, I witness how readily my workmate was able to share about her dreams and it’s like she could get onto fulfilling her dream anytime she wants to. It’s just that at the moment, we’re restricted by things like getting over and done with school. Then, I was asked by the others. I didn’t have anything much to share about, and I only talked about wanting to pursue a different field after I graduate from Polytechnic, reason being- I said I was not motivated and enthusiastic about this one. It was embarrassing, of course, if we were ever to be compared against. I remember rehearsing in the shower what I’ll say if I got into the university interview, asking me about the reason for my choice of the course. Yet, I replied something like that. Later it got me thinking of this ‘dreams’ so I blogged about it.

I have a lot of tardy moments, uncountable of them. They’re a result of my lack of composure. Sometimes, I wish I could just type out/write down my replies every time I’m asked about something, getting plenty of time to think about it. Then you could avoid thinking of how to react and looking at how others react. But it’s not like that. I go on everyday, pondering about what happened on the day before and realizing different things, learnt from them and telling myself ‘I’m gonna be brave and do this when a situation like this strikes again’, but yet, never do.


self-indulgence thoughts.

This week, or even for the past few weeks, has been a week of self-indulgence thoughts, mostly the not-so-better thoughts. These thoughts can sort of burn you. It’s easy for anyone to say “stop thinking so much.”, and surely I do want to spill it all out instead of bottling it all up. I’ve had friends who were willing to lend a listening ear and allow me to be their listening ear, which makes me feel comfortable being around them. I’ve had people I work with every other day, who you’d know there’s no way you’ll ever tell them about your most personal problems because they’re just “come-and-go” people.

And some things have changed. Um, my sister went to live with her dad, while I’m here with my Mom. Alot of times I’ve been in the position of the middleman because I’ve been made to choose and make decisions about certain issues concerning myself. It’s tough and sometimes I can’t help but to burst into awfully suffocating tears in the middle of the conversation with one of ’em parties. And then they’ll ask me “why do you keep crying? Crying can’t solve problems.” and obviously I do know that; just that many times, I can’t contain the emotions inside me. At the same time, I would never want them to witness the whole crying-thing either because to them, it’s like I’m trying to gain sympathy or something… and probably escaping from the problems that’ll always be there until I step out and make decision (which I think that’s the case).

Damn, personal experience had me realize that I always feel at my worst when I’m out working. I understand I need to get used to it and get over my insecurities because I’m not gonna be schooling for the rest of my life, which it’d be wonderful and sad at the same time. I wanna be pursuing something else, but we know we don’t get what we want all the time. A month back or so, I saw an advertisement by MOH, featuring the social jobs going the extra mile for people and one of them was ‘Occupational Therapist’. It caught my attention because it’s a noble profession to begin with. I’ve always wanted to be part of this, not just that profession; ever since I was in Secondary School. Always thought there were a few of them, like social workers, doctors, nurses, psychologists and psychiatrists. And I ever thought of wanting to become a psychologist/psychiatrist, but it’s probably too far to think about it now when others can seem to interpret me better than I know myself. Of course I do not wish that it’ll just a temporary phase, just because I’m going thru a tough phase of experiencing working life in the business environment. Again, it takes time to discover myself and I’ll need to think it through after that.

New Read.

A week back, I planned to borrow some books; just with the intention of killing time during waiting intervals; hopping from train to train, any sort of pending intervals at work, etc.

I’ve not read for years;

(and when I say ‘read’, I’d mean really opening up a storybook and reading it till the end. No stress, no serious pondering & confusing myself with the dramatis personae of the novel. Just indulgence… but I find it difficult most times to find myself a good read because I always find trouble understanding the beginning phase of the plot and then end up forsaking the rest of the content in the book. You could say I judge a book by its first impression and then giving it all up ’cause I think it doesn’t fit my appeal, which could end up to be a opportunity read I’d have enjoyed.)

The last book that I’ve read could probably be my Secondary School literature text. It was a mystery novel, written by Mark Haddon. I read it when I was 12, I guess, because my tutor lent it to me and I never returned it since… It was such a significant read, that I went through the content in the book about 3-4 times over the years as I grew older! Apart from that, I guess I did read a few books with pretty awesome content, but I couldn’t remember their titles.

Last Saturday, which was yesterday, I just went through the fiction section, browsed through the titles of the books and then the synopsis at the back covers of every book. I guess most readers love to read books that you could easily relate to the main character of the plot, but for my life…? I guess I could try to look for it, but likely it doesn’t exist yet…? Or it’s not getting published?

Right, back to the point. So I borrowed 3 books and started on one already. 1/5 done, hopefully I’ll finish it. So far, it’s very interesting even though I encountered a number of really difficult words. Couldn’t checked up on all of them because there were too many foreign words. I could understand the narrator’s words, and I guess that’s a good start to get myself reading again.

New read: The Secret Adventures of Charlotte Bronte.