Friday, September 19, 2014

The Highlight of the Night


You know. Sometimes I wonder if it really took an effort to love.
I believe it doesn't.
I know it doesn't.
And it doesn't.

It takes time but it doesn't need an effort. And funny that it came from lots of things. 
Like writing for example.
(A fanaticism towards an author is very legit)
But no, it's not about a writing. Or an author.

Lately I find him very cute. He's always been a brat but now he's a cute brat. I feel like I've come to like him and find him endearing. Even though he's often covered with dirt and he's plenty annoying. And noisy. 

I know that I can't really expect our bond to be special, but I'm glad that the thought of losing him become more saddening than it was before. At least now I know he mattered.

(Well, I guess that kind of thing really comes naturally.)

Wednesday, September 3, 2014

(Things I Noticed Recently)

It's nice having a big family that you can rely on. That would go all their way to do stuffs for you. And to some extent: whose kindness you can expect and whose warmth you can be certain of.

It really is nice. When people complained about seeing a lot of evil in the world, seeing human doing mean things that are annoying (like not giving seats to elders and pregnant woman, littering the street, killing dogs, or bombing countries), I always thought something along the lines of: "you should see it coming. It's a given for people to be ignorant and mean; people who are kind are jewels and jewels aren't things you find scattered in the street." And thus I don't really expect people to be good and well-mannered or nice in general. (I used to. But I learnt things, so I don't anymore.)

That's why even among a family, I'm still baffled on how far they would want to help and love and for them to see as if it's something ordinary. Something... normal. Something given.

I hope there won't come a day when that changes, but if it does, that'd be a shame. Then again, we families are only consisted of ordinary human beings (that are mostly ignorant and mean).

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It really frustrates me to be involved in a heated argument where I can't argue using logic because people are being irrational. That whatever I said will be labelled with previous judgment and bias that they already have; that whatever I said will not even be considered to be true because it doesn't go with their believe; that whatever I said is countered with something unimaginably delusional or stupid.

It frustrates me to the point of tears.

I think the reason it frustrates so much is the fact that I feel absolutely helpless. I can't argue with irrationality. I have no choice but to shut up and swallow whatever crap they're feeding me, since I've never really learn how to scream back and use mean words that sounds like a perfect reply in various media.

And it hurts. It hurts to shut up. And it hurts to swallow crap or loaded bullshit.

But it makes me learn how much of an arrogant, prideful baby I was being and how I should learn to shut up and ignore stupidities in general. (Or scream and use mean words, but I figured that requires more effort)

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It's funny how a writing by a person can say a lot of things about them. By writings, you'd know what are things that's important for them, how they see the world and its stuff, how they crafted their thoughts.

Sometimes it's really beautiful.
Amusing.
Pretentious.
Hilarious.
Quirky.
Sad.

Sometimes it makes you feel so very close.
How it reflects what you see in them first-hand. How it oh-so relatable to you. How you agree with their point of view towards the universe and everything else they wrote.

Sometimes it makes you feel so very distant.
How it feels like a different person than what you used to greet on daily basis. How foreign the things that they wrote. How unthinkable for you to even see things their way.

But most of the time it makes you feel like you know the person better.

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I can't decide whether it's a good thing or a bad thing:
I think that I finally grasp what it meant to engage in social encounters.

I used to not be able to differ it, but I get a clue of how it works bit by bit.

I thought I'm a very awkward person, but it's not once or twice that people tells me how sociable I am with strangers. "What do you mean you're awkward? You're great with people." kind of thing.

I didn't notice that I've developed an auto for social interactions with strangers. But it seems I did.

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You know, these days looking at pictures of people makes me think if people are either born beautiful and stay that way, or grew up and becomes more beautiful day by day.

Or they're just ugly.

But I think I'm surrounded by beautiful people. Whose face are pleasant to be seen.
(I'm pretty sure I'm biased)

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