by andypeters-old-flickr-a ccount

If you're my friend on FB, you might have noticed my anti-Christmas status updates. But no explanation for why I'm such a grinch this year. So I've decided to post up an entry from a private journal:

I've never felt this way at Christmas.

Usually, usually, no matter what kind of a year I've been through, Christmas and New Year is a time where I can finally breathe, step back, enjoy the merriment and festivities... and most of all, begin to hope again for a better year ahead.

This year I can't quite place a finger on what exactly is it that's causing how I feel... but all I feel is a mixture of sadness, longing, wistfulness, and loneliness. And most of all, the feeling that I still haven't found that sense of 'home' that I'm looking for. That's all I ever wanted and all I've ever dreamed of.

Someone to call 'home'.

I've fooled myself for so long that I could make 'home' work with whomever I wanted to; it was all about making a choice and making the effort. But a long talk today made me realize that you can try so hard but there's some things you'll never be able to change. Like the past. You'll never be able to rewind things back, take back mistakes made, take back the hurt, erase the cynicism and pain. Things will never be the same again; there's no going back, only forward.

The thing that makes me sad is that in my search for 'home', I've messed up so much. I've made so many mistakes, broken so many hearts - that I'm scared I've screwed around too much to ever get another real shot at finding 'home'. Like I have too much bad 'karma' or whatever you want to call it. It drives me insane that other people blame themselves for my mistakes, and that unnecessary guilt trip I unwittingly put people on adds even more to my list of grievances. Lately I've been resigning myself to the fact that not everyone gets to find 'home'. Not everyone has the chance to find 'the love of their lives'. Maybe most people just have to work at what they have. Maybe most people look into their partner's eyes and can't quite remember what they fell for in the first place. Maybe most people stay - because it's easier that way. Because it's less painful and more practical for everyone involved.

And maybe I'm just one of those people. Those epic love stories, the kind that people talk about and dream about and years later, keep retelling over and over again - the stuff that inspires movies and books and long love letters... that's not for me. Maybe in another lifetime. Not this one. And maybe I just have to accept that.

Another part of me refuses to let go. I'm only 19. How can I be this cynical? This jaded? But I am. And there's some things I'll never be able to change. I'll never get my innocence back. I'll never ever have a 'magic' first kiss. Or first love. Or first boyfriend. Or first... etc etc. Everything I've only ever wanted... I've managed to screw up. I've managed to destroy.

And right now, I'm feeling just about as empty and lost and confused and lonely as it can get. Yet in the midst of all this, there is still one thing that I want and I know I can have. One thing that will make everything I live for worth it. It's to be able to give other people a second shot, give other people a second chance - give people hope. Even though I might not be able to find it for myself, I know that right now, it's the only thing that will keep me going. I don't know what I can do or how, but with two hands and a place to sleep and food to eat I already have so much more than so many. I already have what it takes to make a difference, no matter how small, in someone else's life.

Lately, all I can think about is quitting my job. I know, it's all I ever aspired to be - a writer and editor and etc. But my heart's no longer in it. I write because I can. Because it's how I express. And I want to write because I want to believe I can make a difference for the better through writing. But I'm tired. I'm tired of writing to make a name for myself. Writing to build my portfolio. At the end of the day, I can't even convince myself of some of the words I write. They're just empty. Hollow. I'm doing well for myself, but I'm tired of living for myself. I'm supposed to be happy, but I'm not. I'm tired. Tired of meeting and interviewing celebrities. I couldn't care less anymore if your name is splashed over MTV or if you've met the president of the United States. I couldn't care less how you got your big break or what was the craziest incident you've ever had with a fan. I'm tired of wining and dining and getting a taste of the 'It' lifestyle. Just because a meal costs more doesn't mean it tastes better. Just because you're popular doesn't mean you have friends.

I'm so so tired... of hearing people tell me I'm doing so well, I must be so happy, my parents should be proud of me, and that I'm finally getting a chance to 'achieve my dreams' or be successful, whatever that means. As if it matters when you don't even know why you're alive and what you live for.

It scares me the way I feel sometimes. Because I think to myself, you're only 19. This is something people say on like, their dying beds as they look back on their entire lives. You've only been working 4 months and you're tired? Welcome to the rat race, honey. How are you going to survive? At the same time, I get so angry. I get so angry watching the rest of the world. We're so driven by material possessions and physical security. I don't get it. I don't. Maybe it's the fact that I've been accustomed to living on so little, that I've been taught by my parents while growing up what it's like to live by faith and depend on God for everything from a simple kitchen stove to a washing machine to education for all three of us kids. But I really don't get it. Why the need for Gucci bags and Jimmy Choos and Blackberry's and etc etc. We have such a warped sense of the word 'need'. I need an iPhone to help me organize my schedule. I need a new dress because I have another dinner to attend tonight.

If you were to give me a million bucks right now, I'd give it all away for just one person who would take my hand and say 'come home'.

Maybe I'm writing this out of an extremely emotional state. But I'm so sick of living the way I do. I used to think I was 'poor' compared to friends in church. I used to think I was 'outdated' in terms of technlogy and fashion and media, because we couldn't afford to have all the latest and trendiest. But in the past few weeks, everytime I step into my room, I look around, and what I see breaks my heart. I see a DSLR - a Nikon D40. I see my hair curlers. My laptop. A queen-sized bed. Cupboards. A dresser. And when I pull open my top drawer, rows and rows of toiletries.

The other day it hit me - if some other 19-year old girl were to step into my room, she could easily be thinking, 'Wow, I wish I knew what it was like to be her'. Yes, I worked for everything myself. When we moved into our new apartment, I paid for half of all the furniture in my room by working part-time even though I was still in highschool  My laptop, my camera, my hair irons - everything was worked and saved up for, from working RM4.50 shifts and Starbucks and distributing flyers for the odd event. But I still have so much. So much more than so many. And it breaks my heart to see and all this know all this - and at the same time hearing people toss around words like 'I'm broke' because they can't afford to buy a new PS3.

It breaks my heart because even though I have so much, it's not enough. It never will be, not as long as I keep looking for material things. I can work so hard and store up so much for myself, but my heart will never ever feel 'home'.

I don't know how to resolve this conflict within me. I don't know what to do with all these emotions. But right now I've never been surer and more convicted than ever before - I don't need to go to a good university. I don't need a high-flying career. I don't need people to call me a 'writer'. I don't need people to know my name. I don't care if people will say ' She had so much but she threw it all away'. I'm not saying I'm going to throw everything away and become one of those crazy people who live alone in the wilderness, away from society. I'm not discounting the value of education. I'm just saying, I'm no longer going to fight for it like I used to. No longer going to insist that I need to graduate by this age so that by this age I'll be stable so that by this age I can get married and all those other things I used to want and that most normal people want. I don't know what exactly it is that changed everything - but perhaps it's in realizing that I'll never find 'home' unless I find my heart. And I've learned that this, what I thought I wanted, what everyone says I should have - is not where my heart is. I don't care if I have the potential for this and that. My heart's just not in it.

Yesterday I did some research online on women's aid organizations within Malaysia. And I started reading about the history of one of these organizations and the work they do - and the stories that I read made me cry. And for the first time, I let myself cry. I let my heart break for these people I don't even know. I think maybe the reason I've been so selfishly living for 'me' this whole while is because when I do care, I care to the point of it almost being 'too much'. I let other people's problems become my own and they just completely consume me. I hurt when I allow myself to see, really see, other people's pain. Most of the time I get by and survive by numbing myself. By looking but not really seeing what's there.

But something broke lately and I am no longer trying to protect my heart - I'm just letting it bleed. Sure, you might not ever see this side of me (I don't think ANYONE at all in my life has seen me like this). The truth is, right now, my heart's in a million pieces. I cried last Sunday when I picked up the newspaper and saw pictures of beggars whose faces were scarred by acid. I cried inside when I went Christmas shopping at iOi and picked up a brochure by a charity organization and read a story about a little boy who was abused by relatives. I know my tears won't change the world. (That's why I'm so freaking tired.) But I don't know what else I can do. I know more than ever I want to help other people pick up the pieces of their own hearts. But it starts with taking down these walls around my heart first and letting my heart break. I've reached a point where I don't think I can ever be happy living for myself anymore - and the only thing that makes sense to do is live for others. 

Maybe, just maybe, in that process I'll stop feeling so lost. I'll find a way to that place called 'home', that place I'm searching for and hoping for and dreaming of.

For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. -Matthew 6:21

(Oh, in case you haven't noticed, commenting is turned off on this post. So don't bother. Get your own blog if you want to rant.)

Okay, now that I'm (somewhat) out of my anti-Xmas funk this year (the first time this has ever happened), I have a wishlist. Not that I'm really expecting gifts. But here's what I'll treat myself to if and when I have the money and don't have to spend it on food, bills, or someone else.

• CHUCK SEASON 1 DVD BOX SET
• CHUCK SEASON 2 DVD BOX SET (pirated also can la. clear already can.)
  
• AVATAR MOVIE DVD
• G.I. JOE MOVIE DVD
  
• AVATAR PC GAME
• AVATAR TICKETS (I can watch it again! I watched G.I. Joe in the cinemas twice. Lol)
  
• Habanero Hot Wings at Frontera
• Crabtree & Evelyn Lemon Cookies *swoon*

P/S - Santa, I know you're not real, but someday could I have a husband like Julia Child's and Julie Powell's who will eat all the food I make AND love it (and me)? Oh, and a job that would let me eat food or make food or sit around and watch movies all day and comment on them. AFTER I travel around the world to teach kids and help save lives, of course. Pleaseandthanks.

The other day I asked myself why I bother to write a blog.

I don't really care how many people read it, if not for the fact that more readers mean higher chances of ad-click, if not for the fact that higher ad-clicks equals higher ad revenue - or at least, ad revenue that's not as dismally low as it currently is.

I arrived at the conclusion that I write a blog - or write anything else, for that matter - for the sole reason that I have this instinctive need to document things. Whether it's documenting the mostly incoherent thoughts that run through my head or bits and pieces of my daily life or the occasional extraordinary adventure I come across - I need to document it and write it down.

The next thought that came into my head was - wait, I thought writing was an art. I thought I write to express. As an outlet to vent. But that would not explain the need for a structured blog labeled by categories and sorted by date of entry and my incessant need to write things into my schedule or planner. Because if the point was simply to express, then I could just write on any scrap of paper and then throw it away and forget about it, no?

Another thought bounced back: 'But that wouldn't work. You like the structure. You need the structure. You like looking back at your past writing and see how you've grown and changed. You like writing what you note down and experience in the moment only to link it back to something else you've noted down and experienced in the past. You like assembling the pieces together to make sense. To create logic out of seemingly disparate pieces of information.'

I was lying on my bed while thinking all of this out. I started thinking about my favorite books, stories, and movies. All of them involved some form of learning and discovery through documenting experiences, whether through logs or letters.

The thought then occurred to me that perhaps the writer is not exclusively an artist. Perhaps the writer is a scientist as well. Perhaps just as a scientist observes separate pieces of data, hoping to connect the dots together, the writer observes separate incidents that unfolds around him, hoping to see the deeper underlying meaning.

Or perhaps, perhaps, I'm just being my usual dissatisfied self and wishing I'd pursued science instead of art. But I really don't understand why art and science is thought of as being two completely separate and opposite disciplines. You need creativity to come up with new formulas and theories, don't you, just as much as you need a certain degree of structure and order to write coherently.

Hmm.

Number 5 - Astro Boy

What really struck me was the parallels between good and evil in the form of the 'good' blue core and the 'bad' red core. One of the concepts of the story is that red (evil) is a potent force that very easily corrupts and takes over everything it touches, making everything that it comes into contact with like itself. Like the saying goes, it's easier to drag someone down than pull someone up. But even though the blue force might seem outnumbered by the red, it is somehow resilient despite at times appearing outranked. It's like that like from the Prince of Egypt song: 'Though hope is frail, it's hard to kill' (Thanks, btw, to the person that pointed out the real lyrics, instead of letting me go on thinking it's 'though hope is frail, it's hard to care'. Lol!)

Number 4 - Surrogates

As far fetched as the idea of having 'surrogates' sounds, it scared me to ask myself, 'If such things existed... would you use them?' and to discovered that my immediate answer would be 'yes'. It scared me how much easier it is to live in an alternate reality that soothes than an actual reality that involves facing things like growing old, insecurity, and gender confusion. I mean, who wouldn't want to be a hot babe or hunk instead of dealing with the reality that you're a fifty year old aging woman taking pills for depression or an obese man who thinks he's a woman? We would all do the same thing. And it would, eventually, eat at our souls and destroy us, unless we kill the idea of having a 'better' or 'perfect' life and deal with ourselves as we are, as frail, weak, insecure, imperfect human beings. And learn to love ourselves and each other for it.

Number 3 - G.I. Joe: The Rise of Cobra

Sienne Miller, Rachel Nichols, and CHANNING TATUM are reason enough to make this number 3. And awesome gadgets.

Number 2 - Pandorum

Aside from the dark, shadowy set and spine-tingling soundtrack / sound effects, I really enjoyed the vast themes this supposedly sci-fi horror flick delved into. The film dealt with issues like power and corruption, and how ultimate power brings, ultimately, destruction and corruption. What fascinated me was how the movie dealt with humanity at its most depraved - turning into mutated monsters that kill and eat other humans for survival - a fine example of 'the power of the situation' (if you've ever studied psychology). However, in the end, it is sheer mental power and strength that allows the protagonist, Bower, to see the truth and realize that the one person he thinks is his only ally is the very person who has succumbed to madness / pandorum - and all alone, he overcomes his hysteria to save all the surviving crew members that are fast asleep. The vast set of the humongous ship, the Elysium, where zombie battles unfold, is actually symbolic of the vast battleground that is the human mind - where the real battle rages.

Number 1 - AVATAR

First off, Avatar reminded me again why Pocahontas and Tarzan were two of my all-time favorite Disney movies. Outcast, misfit-types that didn't fit in with who they were supposed to be, two strangers from completely different worlds falling in love and going against the odds to make it work, lush forest landscapes, sweeping soundtracks. And Avatar, with its surreal, other-worldly landscapes, intense battles with grotesque-looking creatures, war, drama, love, inner and outer conflict,and self-discovery all rolled into the mix, is no different. Whether its devastating scenes of the home tree being destroyed or luminescent plants in the neon-lit forest, every scene is stunning and emotionally moving. I love the beautiful Na'vi language, which is actually a language invented by a professor from USC. The entire concept of Pandora (the moon on which the movie takes place) is breath-taking, from the enormous home tree to the sacred tree of souls to Eywa, the Na'vi deity.

I'm not sure if the name Pandora was meant to bear any reference to the Pandora of Greek mythology, the first mortal woman sent to men who opened a box she was not supposed to open, releasing all the evils of the world upon mankind, but before on last thing could fly out of the box, she shut it, leaving that one thing behind: hope. Because hope seems to be the central thing the movie is based around - despite the great destruction and evil intentions of short-sighted humans, hope is what sustains the Na'vi tribe - hope in a divinity that is all around, hope that nothing on this earth can ever be taken away or destroyed because everything given is a borrowed gift that will one day be returned to its source, hope that when one circle of life ends, another begins, and it goes on and on.

Less:

-Make-up (note to self: you are beautiful)
-Energy consumption (note to self: don't be lazy to walk)
-Meat (note to self: it's healthier as well!)
-Flirting (note to self: 'subtle' or not; 'innocent' or not)
-Part-time jobs I hate but I do just for the money (note to self: stop doing those stupid flyer distribution jobs - you can do without a new pair of heels)
-Coffee (note to self: less dehydrating drinks is great for skin too!)
-Criticism (note to self: try to acknowledge rather than criticize, but don't be afraid to accept criticism either)

More:

-Bright colored clothing! (note to self: stop buying black!)
-Smiles (note to self: not all of them will think you're a freak)
-Projects I am genuinely passionate about (note to self: a job doesn't have to pay in cash to be worth doing anyway)
-Green tea (note to self: good for health, metabolism, your brain, etc etc.)
-Sleep (note to self: beauty sleep is top priority if you wanna look good when you're older, which of course you do!)
-Exercise (note to self: yes, so you can run a few rounds around the block - but push yourself to the limit!)
-Real compliments (note to self: don't assume that others know they're doing a good job - tell them!)