C'est la vie

    At the end of this two-week trimester break, I have a lot going on my mind. I've thought about a lot of stuffs that I usually wouldn't go thinking about them. I do not know why but it gives me the feeling I don't belong to any certain places or groups of people, perhaps not in Malaysia and perhaps not with their ways of thinking. Sometimes I try to understand people while nowadays when I have plenty of time I try putting myself into their shoes. I use heart to feel and soul to feel, yet I do not seem to find the answers.

    Their words hurt but they they don't know that they are hurting you. You treat some people nicely but you don't get to be treated the way you treat them. Some people are just good in pulling you down from your normal self-esteem level either from academic aspect, physical looking, skin color and so on. However, they act like victims as if I bully them. At first you thought they were so mature because of the way they presented themselves to you. Time reveals one's true self. Eventually I stop caring, you go your way and I go my way; you continue pretending and I start masking myself too. This is the way to survive in the world, I get it.

   The more I think, the more depressed I get. Before this break, I aimed to seek peace within this time being.Sometimes words from other party hurt, but your words hurt them too. I don't feel like explaining myself, because the more explanation given the deeper I fall in the darkness. Nowadays I just don't feel loved, frankly I don't feel loved from anyone. I'm sorry if I offended anyone of you, but I just have to speak the honesty out. I can't feel loved except from my grandma, I can't feel it from anyone out there. I feel I've been abandoned.

    As French proverb goes, c'est la vie. It'll get better and I'll feel better. I'm learning to walk the way on my own, without companion. It's better off company from the wrong people.

Black is the new sexy?Or new way to grieve?

    Lately I've been mostly in black, either shirts, pants, skirts, dresses, and so on. Black is the new sexy eh? Hmm NO NO. I wear it for few reasons perhaps. Allow me to enlighten you.

    First and foremost, in case you do not know, my mother passed away since 2014. Since then I've been grieving, over and over again. Grieving is a non-stop process, you just can't get rid of it, you can't amend the broken pieces on your heart even the four chambers are still on their own positions. Yet they are broken into millions or perhaps billions pieces within themselves without being able to be noticed even using X-ray. At some point, you just can't feel your heartbeats. Sometimes, you try to sit alone silently, listening attentively to the beating of heart, but it's empty there. It's like you're a dead person in a live body. So I can't help myself from continuing to grieve. I wear black or dark colors to tell the people around (maybe no one knows) that I'm living with grief. Yes, I tried to be happy, tried to put myself with other colors such as red, white, yellow and so on but they all don't suit me. Putting them on myself makes me feel like I'm disgusting, why I wear bright color to grieve over someone who's the dearest to me. I feel so disgusting that I hate myself. Unless the situation leaves me no choice, else I'm always with the black or dark colors covering me.

   Second, it's because black represents the state I'm in. So you may be curious what state I'm in? Well, relating back to my loss, I'm in grief and so it leads to depressed. Yea, you read it right I'm in depression. Since my mommy passed away, I feel depressed because the only true love in this world has left me behind all alone in this big big world. No I do not have a father, I'm from a single parent family. So in just a night, I turned to an orphan. Go on telling me 'you have aunts to take care of you', 'you have a super duper good grandma to love you', and so on. But let me tell me, the feelings or the love you get from them are fucking different from what you feel from your mother. They love me, but I just want a mother's love. I'm so depressed that everytime when others mention about their mothers, it reminds me that I'm an orphan. Mother's day is the scariest for me, whenever I hear about it, it reminds me that I lost my mother in 2014 and that's the fact that I can't do anything to change. So for me black color best represents my life. I just love it.

    Next, for me black color is a strong armor that secures me well under its shade. I feel strong and witchy in black. I feel so powerful although I'm so broken inside. Black covers me with its magnificent armor, securing me from breaking down so easily in front of human beings. So wearing black helps me to face family, friends and crowds.

   These are the main three reasons why I love wearing black so much. I thought of blogging it out because I was thrown with a statement by grandma this morning, 'you like to wear black so much,aren't you?'. Obviously it's a statement that needs no answer.

   Afterall, black is one of the ways I use to grieve.