Whine

TTM is sometimes good. It reflects what you have done, whether correctly or otherwise.

In my life, I have told Dominance and nobody else, I am doing something which nobody has the guts to do it. And that comes with a terrible price, but I am already paying it for how many years? Erm, 9 years? I lost counted already.

But I accepted it silently. Who else can I tell how much I actually suffer before I met the Music or Dance club people? If I do tell, I am whining. I keep telling myself, I should be a man and I should not whine like a girl. So, this darkest secret I have kept to myself, maybe forever. Or maybe not. Maybe if I can find someone who actually pays attention to what happen to me, or pay attention for who I am, then I am ready to share it with this someone.

Unfortunately, meeting this person is somehow below the possibility of zero.

So, as I've said, I keep it to myself.

Nobody knows why I write songs.
Nobody knows why I write novels.

This deepest feeling in me never shows. I am like a torn rose. You can see the brilliant colour of it, but you can't see the secret cracks in it. Sometimes I crave for someone to really mend my cracks. Sometimes I crave so hard that I hurt myself on the way.

"Just let it be," my friends told me. "Don't force."

Did you all know how it feels like when you are trying to be strong while inside, pieces of you started crumbling down in no hopes of return?

The cravings. It makes me meet nice people very desperately. This cravings make all the Cycles to happen. And during this quiet semester break, I have found many ways to learn how to elevate my own feelings. It's right about "What hurts most, is being so close".

Besides the things belong to my family and myself, as well as the Taiwan gifts from previous Student Exchange, I have thrown away every little thing that is not belong to me. Be it a bookmark or just a simple decent card.

I just have to throw.

It's like discarding junk memories. No point keeping into my mind while I keep thinking about it. Why not just discard it? I never felt so good after cleaning up, especially my room in Kampar. I think 30% of my stuffs are thrown away, even though they are memorable.

I don't keep things that has no value, nor usage. So, I am not sorry to throw some of your things away.

Speaking of sorry, I hate people doing things just to please me or make me happy. I really want to tell you guys that, when we are sad, we must cry to release the tension building in it. Sometimes I hold it till I get home to do whatever I want to liberate that energy. And because I hold it, it looks as if I am emo.

No, I am not emo. I am having an emotional constipation.

And don't make people happy when they are sad. It feels extremely awful.

You don't make people diarrhoea when they have constipation. Yes, you get the point.

Instead of making me happy, I just wish to be understood what happened and with a warm hand on my shoulder, around my neck, clasping my hand or whichever suits you and tell me "It's OK. We will get this through together."

That's what I want to hear. Not "Cheer up", not "TTM lah you", not "Don't emo" and definitely not "Go to sleep and have a rest"

I am selfish. I like what I want to hear. If I don't get to hear what I want, just eff off. Simple as that.

Here, I would like to take a chance to say out to someone special thoughout my semester break:

"I am glad you text me everyday and joke with me. I am glad you grip on my hand, ignoring what people see or say, just to tell me 'I got you'. I am glad you make me understand what's a friend really is. You make me know how to find my happiness when there is something I don't wish to see"

You are the first male beyond my secondary school mates to be recognised by my family. My parents like you very much. Too bad you always been away...

I remember how we met but never talk. It is fate. Really. It's 1 year before I actually know your name. Silly billy me....

Ciao!