I am Jane's Insomnia

The best emotions to write out of are anger and fear or dread. The least energizing emotion to write out of is admiration. It is very difficult to write out of because the basic feeling that goes with admiration is a passive contemplative mood.

Ever since the holidays started I've always managed to sleep at least by 3am. But today, it's freaking close to 6am already and I'm still wide awake. Peterchu (no his surname is not Chu, I just like to call him that because he used to call himself pikachu), Guoy, and some unknown dc++ people whom I've not bothered to be acquainted with have gone for freaking breakfast while I'm still dreaming about a midnight snack.

I was roaming around the net and have finally settled on catching up on writing. Yes, I know, I've been very lazy. In fact, too lazy to even think. So, on for a commercial break now:

With the slimmest chance of making his debut in Heroes Season III, ladies and gentlemen, I present to you, BUCKET MAN!



With the ability to puke acidic vomit and of course, his back-stepping sidekick, Botak man who has no thumbs.



Anyway, what thought shall I dig out from my brains today?

Oh, yes. I've been meaning to share this for a very long time. Not the blog, just one quote:

The best emotions to write out of are anger and fear or dread. The least energizing emotion to write out of is admiration. It is very difficult to write out of because the basic feeling that goes with admiration is a passive contemplative mood - Susan Santog

Sadly, I cannot bold it because Blogger seems to enjoy playing tricks on me. At one point, my ads and profile were so disorganized but it's all good now, although my tool bar is still incomplete.

So seriously, no one can be blamed for all the unhappiness in the world. Because obviously a lot of people will be writing about anger and fear and very little about admiration. And I, for one, am living example of that quote.

Today's topic will be, why I am the emo queen I am today. Let's take it from the top.

At the tender age of nine months old, my mother would leave me in the care of her sister, my aunt while she'd go to work. And so it is almost inevitable that I'd grow very fond of this aunt. My aunt lives with her husband and their second daughter. My uncle, whom everyone has told nothing but great things of him until recently, has a mouth that never stops. Even today with only two of his original set of teeth left, he can still out speak any politician you can think of, and perhaps, that is where I got my political tendencies from. My cousin, Linda, whom everyone saw, but seldom heard, was and still is an accountant. And because my aunt's first daughter worked in Singapore and her youngest son in KL, it was natural for Linda to be my choice for favourite cousin. Linda now has a daughter, Sim, whom I adore very much, and envy of for her youth and naiveness. It was on mother's day, one day before the day I was born, when I started missing how happy I was. No one noticed, no one even knew what day it was tomorrow. Sim, my aunt, uncle and my parents were down in KL. My parents were here on 'official duty', seriously, and my aunt and uncle just decided to tag along. We were all sitting down for dinner, and as of Chinese tradition, the seafood platter was always served nearing the end of the meal. We had prawns that day, and because I was allergic to them, I was left to wander among my own thoughts.

I remember how I was the favourite. How everyone would acknowledge my existence, lavish me with gifts and words, and how sad it was that it has already been a decade since the pampering stopped. It's like I woke up one day and felt all the cuteness drained out of me. And on that day, I started to become a shadow. I was no longer in the centre of attention, but I had to fight to prove myself. The world has been unfair to me for as long as I've lived. It's true that I was the long awaited child. My parents were left childless for a few years after their marriage. But my presence was only appreciated for one year, after which my brother came into the world and stole everything away from me. This is sheer proof that the world does not favour me. I was just about one when he came. Perfectly incapable of rationality. I was still cute in my mother's eyes, but the cuteness was only expressed 15 years after. Why? Because everyone's time was occupied by fussing over my brother. My mother knew this very well. I never gave her problems. I was a good baby. I slept, ate, pooped and smiled when I was asked to, only to do the opposites when I became a teenager. My mother was never tired when it came to playing with me. Because when she'd accidentally fall asleep, I'd sleep too. But my brother had his way all the time. He knew his enemies well and he used his secret weapon well; crying. He came out crying, he cried when he pooped, he cried when he had to eat, he cried when he was supposed to sleep, so much so my mother was so fed up she'd just let him cry till he was tired. This jealousy that was cultivated so young, it's just hard to leave behind. It's not something you grow out of, because jealousy knows no age.

I started speaking at the age of 10months old. No one said anything. My brother was a late bloomer, he started after 1 year. But that made no difference to anyone. But when we reached that stage where we were able to deduce for ourselves, what should be done, and what should not be done, I kept my mouth shut when I knew that what I wanted to say was not pleasant to the ears. My brother? He just voices it out, and gets no blame or feels no shame for it. In fact, people thought it was cute. Not many remember me from my childhood, but they do remember my brother's antics.

The only up side was that I, being the girl, got to play dress up, A LOT! Everytime somebody comes back from somewhere, I'd get a fancy dress, or beautiful hair clips, or little purses. Stuff which I keep till today. Unfortunately, my very generous mother has given most of my dresses away while I was in KL (if I could I'd move everything with me). My brother, was always not contented with what he had, and thus, by screaming, he'd practically blackmail my parents or somebody into buying him other stuff. All in all, I paid the price for being a good child, and now I am paying the price for being the rebellious one. I guess I have myself to blame for that. I should have screamed when I had the chance, and kept quiet now.

My brother's naiveness is still stuck with him till today. He, who doesn't even realise the fact that he will be flying off to Canada in about a month. I really don't understand why this world is so unfair. I think between the both of us, I'd be the one who'd really enjoy going overseas. Being overseas and staying home makes no difference to my brother, so why bother wasting money?
And of course, inevitably, in the spotlight of the well celebrated JPA scholar whom everyone loves, who would notice a girl like me? It's not like I don't have a scholarship, and it's not like I don't have brains. In fact, the woman who gave birth to us both, she should know better. She knows that her first is the one with more intelligence than the second, although the second is more diligent than the first. I hate how people belittle me, and that is why this is the only place I can vent my frustrations so leave me be. Things that I do are never appreciated. Nobody sees what I do for them, only my flaws. Only how incompetent I am compared to their favourite when their favourite talks shit about them behind their backs. How is this world fair to me?

I am still miserable, although not as much as I was about 2 years ago, but I've also thought less. It was like the more I thought the more it became logical, the more it made sense to me, the more everything was explained, the more truth I saw. And of course, the truth hurts, and that's why I hurt. And so I bury myself in meaningless conversation, meaningless books, dumb blonde series, comedies and alike, leaving the thinking to my drunken twin whom I don't get to meet so often nowadays. It's as if I were Jackie Chan in his kungfu movies. It was as if I was the drunken master. Because the alcohol brought my true self out.

Today, I seclude myself. I surround myself with only those I truly cherish, and am slowly fading from the memories of those whom I've learnt to live without. I'm secluding myself because I want to be surrounded with people who really cherish me the way I cherish them, not fake friends who laugh with you but spit behind your back. I've had enough of wanting to become one of them, of having to live up to standards they've unconsciously set in society, and their rumours which grow like cancer. It's starts without you knowing it, and it grows and spreads quickly. And to remove a cancer growth is hard, if not impossible. And perhaps with time and technology, they'll come up with a way to cure rumours too?

My life and most deepest thoughts are private (contrary to the fact that I'm blogging it, but believe me that I still choose my words carefully whenever I blog), and I wish to share it only with those whom I think worthy off. I feel that I don't owe anything else to anyone because I'm sick of being unappreciated, sometimes even by those whom I keep close. As they say, no man is an island, and I've chosen those who'd surprisingly hurt me the most, because they are the only ones who are able to make me feel happy again. Even then, I stand on my own two feet more than I've ever have before. This growing up has gone out of control, it's as if my ownself has gone on a vacation that is too good to leave and has left just the body and the medula oblongata to the task. In other words, I feel like a dried up coconut.

I don't understand how karma works. I don't understand why what I do is never enough. I don't understand how the world revolves around those so effortlessly while I just sink to the bottom. Sigh...I've let out a good lot, I don't blog like I do anymore because I've learnt to keep most things private now, save for some. And now I shall bury myself in a dumb-blonde book. This is to all the lost souls out there.