give and not receive.

21 07 2011

 

I’ve talked to all sorts of people. Listened to tons of them too. Random people who flit through my life like days in a year. They come and go with some memories, but get forgotten in the big picture.

Most of the time, I listened. There were a multitude of people: Good friends, cousins, hi-bye friends, crushes, and sometimes, deranged people. They always had something to say. Not meaning to be self-praising, but I’m a great listener. People tend to tell me things; their problems, their achievements, hopes, sometimes just small things that happened in a day in their life. I even met suicidal people, debating with me if they should try cutting themselves to see if it relieves their pain. Most of the time, they get the answers themselves.

From experience (and many nods of agreement) I realized that when people come to you to talk, they actually just want to be listened to. Think about it, when someone tells you they just broke up, what do you say to him?

“Hey, I’m sorry for you. You need to get over her and move on with life.”

Really, are you sure he/she doesn’t know that? Pretty damn obvious, don’t you think? Heck, it’s advice any idiot could give, it means nothing at all. There’s no value to the advice.

People just need a listening ear, someone who’s actually interested in what they have to say, instead of shutting them up and telling them it’s wrong to think that way.

And I feel happy that they feel happy. I feel really glad when they say “Thanks. You’re a great listener. I honestly feel better after that talk.”

All you need’s a pair of ears, eye contact, and sincere interest in their topics. It’s pretty damn simple. And voila, you cheer another person up.

…And now, I actually come to the whole point of me writing this post, besides being a piece of advice to anyone reading this. Cause as a human, I’ve got my problems too. But there’s no one who listens. They just get annoyed or cut me off halfway.

I wish I had someone to listen to me too.





sometimes…

15 06 2011

… I wonder why I bother to be happy.

 

 

 

Then I look at this pic and I think, “Oh.”

 

Love you. 🙂





no time

25 05 2011

No time to blog! Exams are coming! Must get straight A’s! Ergo, I’ve got no time for a nice long diary post. So I’ll resort to some skills learned from Tumblr, to make up for a thousand words using a picture. Doesn’t work as well, but it pretty much sums up my status right now. Love you guys.

Reblog if you like. :p

P.s.: I wanna love you long time.





A Birthday Before Slaughter.

21 11 2010

Went for a last dinner with an odd arrangement of friends(on purpose). Turned out to be a great night, and exactly what I wanted: a quiet dinner with people I didn’t spend enough time with, and people I could just talk to forever, and when we shut up, we don’t feel awkward at all.

Mom helpfully reminded me about how I invited William to the first birthday party with a Seafield friend back in Form 1. We go a long way back, ex-librarian. Thanks for coming. =)

I sorely regret not spending time to get to know you in 4Budi, Ken Ric. Great guy, who always seemed so guilty when he replies those Japanese translations late. We won’t be forgetting each other, no sir. =)

Enjoy Genting, Mr. Loh. =) Penang ain’t such a big occasion, eh?

I want you to know, Zach, that your blog influenced alot of my life. It cut back thirty minutes of my time daily just to scroll down those posts. And you’re different, somewhat unusual. You have a strength, something you could potentially be best at, but I’ll leave it to you. Discovery’s the important part of it all. Thanks for joining us, buddy.

 

I had a very, very happy birthday. =)

I think this marks the end of high school. I berate myself for not treasuring it, and growing up to appreciate it only after PMR. Time plays tricks on us all.

I love you all, especially the form 5s. Whoever’s reading this.

See ya. =)

 I am afraid.





Aftermath.

31 10 2010

Prom’s over. I am immensely tired.

I can’t face Spm.





Can You Tell?

17 07 2010

I am chipped. Not ripped apart, but it’s like water steadily dripping on a corroding rock.

I am losing the ability to have fun.

Withdrawing… Reaaaaaaalllyyyyyy sloooooowly.

Maybe when SPM finishes I’ll come back. Or maybe this is the real me? I can’t accomplish anything if I haven’t discovered the first layer of my personality.

Gosh, I hate it when I see you getting injured and feeling hurt =( But you’re a strong girl, you’ll be over it in no time.

Truthfully, I’m writing this with a subconscious mind. I am half alive. My soul drifts here and there, tired, but I don’t know how to gain spiritual sleep.

What is this? This tightness. It’s strangling me. I can’t converse with people anymore. Will anyone help me?

I am in silent, emotionless despair. I cannot feel it, but it is conquering me.

And it helps me improve my English with these essays.