You know what they say, being honest to yourself is so much harder than convincing someone else of what and who they really are. It's just like I'm telling you you need to work yourself out and stop being a bitch to yourself or to those who care for you, before you start hurting yourself but instead of turning over a new leaf, you go on messing with your life, screwing yourself down to the drain and the next thing you know, I heard of the news that you might be pregnant. Shall I give you a standing ovation for such pride of yours over your indecent sexual activity, evidently, the likely public announcement of your estopped menstruation for the past two months on Facebook? Or shall I as an ex-close friend, mourn over the death of the rational and cheerful soul in you that I once knew not too long ago? If things did not change too fast too scaringly, I just wish I could give you a big tight slap as a friend who reads your silent misery to wake you up widely from the nightmare you induced yourself into. Unfortunately, I have to agree with Switchfoot's 'This is Your Life'. You are who you want to be, stranger, given all the abundance of good things and paths you could have chosen.
On another note, I had a really rare conversation with my Indonesian maid. We call the 22 year-old maid, 'Kakak' or sister in Malay Language. Honestly speaking, I don't fancy having a close friendship with maids even though I had in the past because some maids just can't seem to reciprocate even the royal treatment you give them. I was told to persuade Kakak to extend her employment contract for another 2 years with us because we eagerly need a helpful maid at home to help out with the moving out and household chores while the house renovation is conducted. It was actually our first time conversing that long. We talked about her life back in hometown, her younger sister and what the society in the rural village expects of her. It's somewhat sad. She is torn between abiding the norm of getting married before reaching the age of mid 20s and earning more to support the living of her family. She may choose but the choices are limited. To stay back and work for the money that finances her sister's college studies and to be bound to be single for the rest of her life (customary tradition of suitable age for marriage) or to return to where she belongs so she can plant vegetables alongside her aging mother and to marry someone who will most likely cheat on her. It's not uncommon that marriages are doomed to fail there. (Well, you know the Indonesians.) She then decided to stay. Of course my mum was the happiest but Kakak while enjoying the more comfortable life here is saddened that she will not reunite with her family so soon.
Life's not always fair. Sometimes you can get a splinter even sliding down a rainbow. And when I'm typing this, I can't cease myself from being affected by my poor pet dogs. I'm not at all a pet lover but what shall I do with George and Bobby who are infected by heart worms and have lost their survival skills if my father abondons them on the streets when the house renovation begins? An alternative is to opt for PAWS, an animal shelter. Sending them both to the shelter means murdering them because PAWS shall put them to sleep if they are infected by diseases. My father suggested leaving them to be fed by the construction workers while we are away staying temporarily in an aparment but I doubt the workers will treat our dogs nicely.
'Only the pot knows how hot the boiling soup feels.' - Like Water for Chocolate
It just reminds me of myself when I first recognised myself being doomed to be who I am right now. Some argue it's about choice but I still can't seem to agree. What if I can't change what it's supposed to be? Well, somehow it doesn't really matter anymore because I really enjoy being who I am by present. (^_^) Sorry for the MIA-ness. Blame the school policy and lousy course structure.
