Ask Me Again, I Would Mind

I’ve been asked by someone currently important to me, by the change of something good that happened recently. He said, ‘Are you intimidated?’

Seeing from his point of view, I know it was intended to be a joke to tease me, and I, trying to do a good job at my role, was playing angry. But apart from whether or not it made me angry for real, somehow long before anyone asked me about that question, I already have the answer.

‘Yes, I am.’

Well, to be fair, how could not I feel that way for I’ve been living in my golden cage for too long? Before I get to see dirt, so to speak, and meet various kind of people, all I know was I’m safe with my beautiful little family. Drinking hot homemade milk before going to school, playing fun games with my kind friends, going back home all tired and get to eat my mother’s tasty cooking, studying for tomorrow’s lesson, and going to bed early in peace without having to worry about anything. Not even love because until now I still think that horizontal love makes people get old faster. Of course it was really boring, now knowing all of the excitement, and ups, and downs, and tears, and joy that I’ve experienced since the lock of my golden cage has been opened up. But the golden bars with smears of diamond shone too bright that I didn’t even get to see the chance to be acquainted with this so-called boring. I was completely fine, because I know nothing about hardness more than fight between siblings or the sadness of temporary inability to go to school because I had such high fever. Then it appears that the outside sun shines brighter.

Yes, I am completely intimidated.

Though actually I can’t really differ the sense of curiosity, anxiety, jealousy, admiration, apprehension, and intimidation. It kinds of fusing into one big hammer that makes my heart pounds faster and faster, filling my head with never-ending questions, while I got no one to ask because out from the golden cage, I’ve realized that I have to stand alone. I don’t even know until now, is it good, or is it bad? Does it really have to happen sooner or later? Do I have to feel this old at my early 20s? Do I just act like I feel old? Who are these people? Did I have a choice? Was I actually given the option not to but I chose to do it anyway? Which is good? Is it better not to know anything from the first place, rather than knowing something only to realize that I know nothing?


Citer Du Jour #5

What can I do with my happiness? How can I keep it, conceal it, bury it where I may never lose it? I want to kneel as it falls over me like rain, gather it up with lace and silk, and press it over myself again.

— Anaïs Nin

Citer Du Jour #4

I am an excitable person who only understands life lyrically, musically, in whom feelings are much stronger as reason. I am so thirsty for the marvelous that only the marvelous has power over me. Anything I can not transform into something marvelous, I let go. Reality doesn’t impress me. I only believe in intoxication, in ecstasy, and when ordinary life shackles me, I escape, one way or another. No more walls.

— Anaïs Nin. Was just going to post Carlin’s quote from earlier,  but the lovely WordPress’ sidebar wouldn’t leave me alone and gave me Anaïs Nin quote at the latter and found more beautiful quotes she said as I googled her.

Citer Du Jour

I could never understand ethnic or national pride. Because to me pride should be reserved for something you achieve or attain on your own, not something that happens by accident of birth. Being Irish isn’t a skill, it’s a fuckin’ genetic accident. You wouldn’t say ‘I’m proud to be 5’11”. I’m proud to have a predisposition of colon cancer.’ So why the fuck would you proud to be Irish, or proud to be Italian, or American, or anything?

— George Carlin, shared on Facebook by my oldest cousin, just now. Kind of remind me why I used to hate the pomposity of particular people born in a particular city  just because they have all the access earlier :p