During sociology lecture, the lecturer said that many cultures present flowers to the dead. She said that  it could be due to the fact that flowers are a symbol of the cycle of life. They die and bloom again with each season in a continuous cycle.

I disagree though. Maybe that's one of the reasons. However, the flowers that are presented are those which are on the verge of death. These flowers can never bloom again. I feel that these flowers show the end of a journey. The cycle has been broken and it is a point of no return. Of course, people who believe in reincarnation would disagree. But even if you reincarnated, the life you lead would be different. Your identity is different. I just can't see this as the repeat of a cycle.

The first thing that came to my mind when I thought of flowers was how fragile life is. Life is so easily taken away and so short. The flower is the prettiest at it's peak and never reaches that same peak again.

Some nights, I start thinking of the sequence of life and no matter where I start, I end up with death. The thought of death freezes me. It's scary to think that at that moment I become nothing more than a corpse. I become a figment of memory and imaginations. I am not me anymore. My body and mind are seperated.

And I start to think of my family and friends leaving me. At the single point between life and death, you know that they are forever departed. That is what forever is. It's not found in love or you gender or status. It's found in death. Death is forever. Forever in our genes. Forever chasing us, stealing from us. 

The absolute fate imprinted in us all.

I had a great dream about revenge sometime this week. I was so happy and I even thought that it was real haha.

The main point of the dream is that I finally gave that rich fool a piece of my mind about her. I totally humiliated her on the train and told her that I had been pretending to like her all along. I threw back at her the same knives she used to stab others.

Sigh if only that really happened. In reality though, I might have punched her. I can't forgive those who look down on the people I love. Forgive and forget? Life isn't so sweet. It's true that time can make us forget but forgiveness is another issue.

It's hard to be joyful when you see others stealing your dreams.

I have always been searching for the meaning in life. Always. And I'm still searching. Maybe I'll never be able to get out of this slump until I find the reason for existence.

I just don't understand what's the point of fighting for dreams. Fighting to live when everything will come crushing down someday. In the end, we are merely pawns. Yes, our whole life and existence is a lie. A intricate lie woven to make us delusional and think we are in control.

No but we can't control anything. Meritocracy is a fantasy. Reality never gives everyone the same starting point. Reality will never ever eliminate biasedness.

Some of us are born beautiful, some intelligent and some with special talents. So what does that make me? Is there a use for an average person other than being stepping stones? Why should I have to pave your way for success?  Why should I have to be the one to suffer while the elites are given differential treatment? Why should I not have the right to choose if I wish to be born.

Why do I even exist. I don't want to struggle in agony anymore. I don't want to struggle knowing that I can never be.

"Is life not magnificent?"
"That is because you bathe in light."
"You are wrong. I have studied the concepts of despair."
"No. The darkness you speak of is merely your shadow."
You will never know.

I feel empty.

I don't even dare to open my eyes to assess the damage I've created. It's too blinding, this idiocy.

You said that you were tired of reading depressing posts in my blog, but this is all I can offer. I've been trying so hard to make things here happier. Yet just like Dark City, the sun never shines here. I am ensnared by darkness.

One who lives in light does not know of darkness and the despair light shines. People always say that they empathise or understand, but in reality, we never do. And in our selfishness, we force those in darkness to burn in the light. For though we understand, we can never comprehend.

"So I learned to smile with hate ingrained in my bones."

I seem to have a problem of shelving all my thoughts away.

It used to be less frequent, but now 90% of my posts are unpublished. Somehow, I can't help rereading my posts and thinking how I have no right to say such words. I try to rephrase myself but I never can. Maybe the cracks within me are deeper than what I dare imagine.

Anyway, I shall try to write down an event from my life lest I forgot everything that embodies me.

I was Sec 3 at that time. My English teacher ordered us to prepare a topic to speak about. The topic would have to last 5-10 minutes. There were no restrictions on what the topic could be.

However, the fact that there were no restrictions made it harder for me. I couldn't help but wonder if the topics I wanted to speak of were too sensitive. I was afraid that my opinions would cause people to think of me as amoral. Alternatively, I could talk about myself but I hated the thought of exposing who I was in front of other 15 year old strangers.

The weeks went by and it was finally my turn to present. Others had spoke about their trips to other countries or ingrown nails. Yet, I talked about how I could not decide on a topic.

Till this day, I am still surprised at how well received my "speech" was received by the "judges". Of course, my teacher wasn't very amused haha..she even told me to prepare another topic (she forgot about it though). What's more surprising is how I had the courage to spout such nonsense.

There are many days where I can't wait to be financially stable. I can't wait to break free from these binds. At the point where I am financially stable, I will finally able to walk the path I want.

I hunger for this empowerment. I'm sick of my dependence. Sick of my weakness.

Imprisoned by the sickness.

The little pieces of my life.

It's hard going home and knowing that home won't be here for long. Putting all those memories into the boxes feels awful. 

First my hamster, then my maid, the car, my family and lastly the house.

I feel as though this country has become a foreign land. Yet what can I do, but bid my goodbyes with a smile on my face. No matter how much I wish to, I can't turn back. I can't hang on to this feeling of nostalgia. I know I can't but I still do..

I am starting from scratch. And it's terrifying. I am all alone in this weird landscape I used to know. The things that I held on to now lay before my feet.

Spots on a blank paper are always glaring.