Clint (May Challenge Continues)

Day 18: Tell a story from your childhood. Dig deep and try to be descriptive about what you remember and how you felt.


Okay this is a bit of a weird story but here goes: I have (had?) a cousin who was completely in love with me.

 Now before you start gagging at the incestuous state of it all, let me clarify a few things. My dad had a brother who married a woman who already had a son. This son was, by technicality, my cousin. Clint.

I hadn't met him until I was 7 years old, and he a year older. But he was already in love with me before then; my father had sent pictures to the family over the years, the way family does. And apparently, there was a picture of little 4 year old me in my little pink dress and my curls, which my cousin saw and claimed for his own, and kept all those years until we actually met.

Don't cue the 'bachpan ki mohabbat' songs yet.  So, one summer my family went to visit them for vacation. This boy, from the first moment, claimed my hand, and refused to let it go. He made up all sorts of 'rules' about how he was in charge of showing me the place, how I was not allowed to let go of his hand when we were crossing streets, almost everything. I can tell you already I had lots of moments trying to pull my hand free and escape this weird young Romeo.

Not like I was totally oblivious of the idea of romance either, I was a Juliet in my own right - I'd already cropped a few crushes of my own in kindergarten already - but c'mon, my cousin? I know maybe I should have been flattered, and perhaps I was to be honest, but it just never.. y'know? It just wasn't going to happen. 

Not that he was ugly either. He was of Spanish ancestry so, he just had that olive-toned brown skin and chiselled features. But yeah, his step-father used to take out a lot of anger on him, and I felt for him, but not in the way he wanted. In a moment of jest, his father took down the picture of me that Clint had kept all those years from a hiding spot on a top cabinet in the kitchen, and told us how when he saw the picture he just kept kissing it, so they had to eventually hide it when we came over before we caught him doing that.

Unfortunately my hand got the kisses instead of the picture. But then we eventually left, and because he wasn't really a real cousin, he had also gone to live with his other relatives who we weren't close to. So the next time I saw him was when we were grown into teenagers, or at least I think I was about 12-13 or so. 

He had grown pretty handsomely, and I was hoping he had forgotten his childhood infatuation, so we could just be normal friends. We all (me, him, my siblings) had a good time playing games and stuff in the streets of New York. But here's the thing, he had this video game console that was all his, and he told my younger brother to tell me that I couldn't play unless I told him I liked him too.

Excuse me? Of course that meant I stubbornly refused to talk to him or even care to play his stupid video games and stayed out playing basketball solo for a good part of the afternoon. Until he sent my brother to tell me that I could play if I wanted. I refused and kept playing. Then they came out to play shamefacedly. I left them and went inside out of the sun and decided I would play video games myself. After half hour playing shoot the duck or whatever it was I was playing, he came in and sat beside me and I ignored him, but he kept leaning against me. I rolled my eyes and kept playing after elbowing him. Then my dad came and he got up fast, bahaha. Then we returned home from our visit, and I hadn't seen him again for many years. The last I saw him was many years later, at a funeral home where he was consoling his step-sister, my cousin, crying at the loss of my uncle. Across the room, we met eyes, and we shared a mutual sad smile before turning away to our own lives. I haven't seen him since.

Let Go (May Challenge Continues)

Day 30: React to this term: Letting Go

Letting go is one of the hardest lessons I have had to learn. But I think I'm better at it. All I need is substantial proof that it's futile or not worth holding on anymore.

Impossible IQ (May Challenge Continues)

Day 24: Your top 3 worst traits

This is a topic I know you all are holding your breathes thinking okay we won't say anything until she does:P then we'll be safe. 

1. I am oversensitive.

I would think that's kind of self-explanatory. I get very attached or care too much for my own good and then I get hurt pretty quickly. I'm better at it that I have been but it's still there. And flourishes quite spectacularly with those I am very very close to. (See #2.)

2. I am argumentative.

As those very very close to me know, I can have a bit of a temper. And it's funny, because I used to be pretty cool and calm about almost everything and anything. Or, if I really think about it there have been phases. When I was younger, like in the midst of high-school, I distinctly remember my dad telling me that I have a hell of a temper. This connects directly to my sensitivity (see #1), of course, but what I do recall is I used to get pretty upset when I cared too much in regards to family, back then. Then I learnt to kind of pull back, and let go, because it was futile to get angry and care that much. Same pinch with my high-school friendships. Then I entered my resolution of 'apathy': to not give a damn. And that was how I was in uni, for the most part. I made a few friendships wherein I had to give a damn, but on the whole I learnt that I really wasn't a vessel for anger. 

Cut to present: Somehow the handful of people that I count as my closest think of me as a hotheaded girl/woman, whereas those who aren't as close as them (read skin-deep close) think I'm amazingly cool, calm and collected. Go figure; it's obviously correlated to how much I care. 

3. I am self-sacrificing.

I don't know why but sometimes I just do whatever to make others happy rather than for my own good. I have had an easier time recognizing the first two traits as problematic, but this one I have needed to be pointed out to me. I still can't really get a grip on it that much to really explain but, I like to make other people happy, or rather I try to appease,  and often that comes as an expense to my own well-being. As I have eventually recognized, sometimes I get taken for granted or get treated like a doormat. And I've been trying to come to terms with how I don't, without being altogether selfish. Of course it makes sense that those who would treat me like that shouldn't even be worth a care. Sometimes it's weirdly complicated though. o_O  But yeah.

Missing (May Challenge Continues)

Day 12: What do you miss? (a person, a thing, a place, a time of your life...)

In continuity with my last post, it makes a lot of sense that what I miss are a lot of people who were once a big part of my life. There are several sized gaping holes inside of me where they once belonged, and some may heal, some have healed, and some shall never.

I miss these people, and I miss them along with the memories that accompany the who they were. Who they are is a memory in itself, and that fact is leads me into the path of missing them, for the contrast of before and after. 

But missing these people is a natural state of being. We possess memory for survival, and in missing someone and reminiscing, somehow we know what it is we miss, and therefore what it is we need and want, and sometimes that gives us a sense of direction in where we are today in life.

If it isn't too confusing to try to explain, I miss dreams as well. Not just dreams folorn and forsaken, left behind on that path of memory, but dreams of a future. Is missing then interchangeable with longing? When we dream and extend our minds to a future not yet tread, somehow we've already tread that path to that future and our self in the future somehow looks back to the past that is the present. Often we actualize those dreams and find that the coming together of past and future provides you the most ecstatic sensation ever - but I digress.

I digress, because as I am now, in this moment, is a superimposition of many dimensions: past, present, future, and I am hypersensitive, overly aware of the fluctuations of these threads. I miss many things and people of the past, and yet, I am already receptive to and cognizant of a frequency of the future, and I miss that as well. It's confusing and inexplicable. 

Fear (May Challenge Continued)

Day 7: The thing(s) you're most afraid of

This one is too easy. I've learnt to conquer a lot of those little phobias in various ways - for example, fear of heights, going on every and each roller coaster or amusement park ride. I try to live through a self-imposed credo of 'fear nothing', or telling myself I'm the 'girl without the fear gene'.

Anyways to the point: I don't even have to think twice about what I'm most afraid of. As long as I know, it's been one main thing that overrides any other fear. Losing people.

Not just any people, of course, but my people. Those I love, those I cherish, those I have grown attached to.   From as long as I can remember, I have been closely familiar with the sensation of loss. I have tried countless ways to overcome this, from trying to care less, or not care so much, being apathetic, not getting attached to people, or trying to stay alone. I've tried caring more, giving more of myself, more reasons for whoever not to one day disappear. I'm afraid of death,  of detachment, of deceit and distances all as subcategories of loss. Four Ds that I have hovering over my head like ghosts of past and future, and all unfortunately belonging to that bigger D: destiny.

It goes without saying that the consequences of loss have a profound impact on me, otherwise the fear wouldn't be so ingrained, nevermind one to even write about. Most of the deepest sorrows I have experienced and continue to experience are because of loss. If you come across me on a sad day, you can trust that it's somehow connected to this fear.

A Day with IQ (May Challenge Continues)

Day 15: A Day in the life (include photos from throughout your typical day - this could be "a photo an hour" if you'd like)

After already haven woken up a few times, peeking at the clock, burrowing back down to sleep, I awaken to the shrill of my alarm clock. I get up blearily, turn it off. I grab my towel and head to the bathroom. Brushing and showering, I head back to my room, and get back in bed for 20 minutes.

I finally pull myself out of its warm embrace and then get dressed in supersonic speed: about 1 min on average. I comb my hair, put lotion on my face. Some days I put on makeup but I usually don't bother. It's just work, afterall. 

I grab my jacket, step out of my room and am met by my kitten meowing 'good morning' at me with still sleepy eyes, and rolls on his back for some loving up. After a few mins of that, we get up and head down to the kitchen where I prepare his breakfast, and get my own going. I slap up a lunch and light a diya to do some morning praying, eat breakfast, and then pack up my bag and head for the front corridor, with the kits following. I slip on my flats, say goodbye to the kits and I'm off.

Usually the other kids  are out and about in the neighbourhood, heading to school. I walk to my busstop, and wait with half closed eyes as I soak in the morning sunshine, and get on the bus, find my seat and promptly go back to sleep for the 40 minute ride to the train station. Get off the bus, head down to the station platform, board train, find seat, and again sleep for the 40 minute ride downtown, where I get off and get on my streetcar that takes me to work. 

At work, I sit at my desk in front of my computer and begin the day's work which involves a lot of files and phone calls, meetings. I normally get the load of work finished by mid morning and then I lighten up and blog, or visit with some friends for a while, have lunch, dig into work again and take another light work/break before heading home, where I make and have dinner, clean up a bit, and then relax before being bundled up for bed :B

A Moment (May Challenge Continues)

Day 9: A moment in your day (this can be just a photo or both a photo and words)

The best bookends to my day is that 5 minute walk between my front door to the bus stop. First thing in the morning, the new sunshine beaming its blessings afresh; in the evening, a slow meander as I take in the setting rays of the day. (snapped by yours truly)

Happiness (May Challenge Continues)

Day 14: Ten things that make you really happy

10. Snuggling up with a really good book. Because if I'm snuggling that means there aren't other things that I've got to tend to - otherwise I'd be doing them, and so I'd likely be without other worries at that moment.

9. That absolute sense of being loved I get from when my kitten sees me after a very long day at work, the way he shows he missed me and needs me.

8. Laughing and having crazy conversations with my friends. The most nonsensical and insane and random conversations totally make my day.

7. Cooking a really awesome dish (or two) and seeing those who eat it enjoy themselves to their fullest. Total satisfaction. 

6. Simply making anyone at all smile - giving them an unexpected kindness or just a smile and seeing their face light up. 

5. Bonding with a child, having those moments that are only able to be defined by who you are with a child. Being able to make them look up to you, their simplicity and ability to love without those grown-up qualms, those moments when they show their innocence and their intelligence and when their faces light up with understanding when you explain something new to them. 

4. Doing things for my closest and most loved ones...making them feel loved and doing the littlest or even big things just to see their smile, their happiness and joy.

3. Being outside on the most beautiful of days. That doesn't necessarily mean pure summer either, out in the first snow fall (or even the 15th), or walking in the rain...just communing with nature at it's best makes me happy.

2. Hearing or seeing my BestFriend laugh. He laughs so infrequently that it just makes me feel sooo happy to know I did or said something, however unintentional, or even if I didnt... to have him laughing noticeably. 

1. Wouldn't it be great if I could simply answer this last thing which makes me really happy with 'life'? I didn't think I could, but now that I'm considering all the things I've already listed... I guess perhaps I should. =)

Me-ness (May Challenge Continues)

Day 6: If you couldn't answer with your job, how would you answer the question, 'what do you do'?

Whenever I encounter that usual "about me" section, as one does, I usually have a standard answer to it which I've cultivated some years ago, years and years ago when I first encountered it, then encountered it again and decided I didn't want to waste too much time with pondering over this, regardless of it being a legit question that I normally like. 

My latest answer to this is comprised of me as in "what I do":

... Thinker. Dreamer. Imagination that strives to reach new bounds. Random. Love to laugh. Bibliophile. Tree Hugger. Cloud Watcher. Sitdown Comedian. Nature lover. Hopeless romantic....

It's been years since I wrote that bit up. And everytime I go through it, I think it's a fair summation of what I do, as an extension of who I am. So much has changed and even I have changed in countless ways, but I think even now, it's still as apt. 

Day 11: Sell yourself in 10 words or less

Sometimes kitten, sometimes cat, and sometimes, pure tigress.

;) mrow.

Rantable

Okay, so I haven't really been in a mood to blog. I mean I WANT to blog, I just seriously...seriously... have nothing to say. Then there's that whole May challenge which although I already disclaimed as not taking literally, it's still there and I know I want to get through it some time or the other. But procrastinating that sort of, to be honest, makes me want to procrastinate the whole blogging thing. Not a direct relationship but still one I can't say doesn't exist.

The last two weeks have been sort of 'blah'. I mean not that anything really bad is happening or ... well I don't know. I just feel blah. You know, there are some days you wake up and jump out of bed ready to go, or you're just happy. But I can't remember the last time I really felt that way. 

And I'm dwelling on this fact moreso because it's been raining the last two days and Summer has just disappeared. Okay okay so it hasn't disappeared. It's there or well not literally here yet, it's still Spring and as such this is supposed to be typical but the last bout of really hot nice weather makes one instinctively think to themself, 'yay, summer is here'. BUT ITS NOT.

Okay, now you're wondering where this is all coming from. I don't know either. I just need sunshine. And a nice drink. And ummm ok I won't push my luck.

But seriously this blahness is kind of pissing me off. I wake up in the morning and still feel absolutely sleepy, so what do I do? I shower and brush and then jump back in bed. Then I sleep. Or try to sleep. For another 20 minutes. And if that doesn't make me a lazy lump of lethargy then I don't know what does. Oh, wait maybe also sleeping the two hours on the way to work does. I need to stimulate my brain cells. I'm becoming a vegetable. I need to go out in the morning sunshine and take a run around the fields. Or something. I need to wake up to awesome music and spring out of bed ready to dance with my hairbrush. 

Speaking of hairbrush. Even my hair is feeling blah. I love it, don't get me wrong. But then, I go out in this windy rainy weather and somehow I just feel it all go limpy and soggy and whatever. Cue more blahness. I don't even look in the mirror in the morning really- not because I'm scared of what I'll see, trust me I'm not that far gone. But I don't care to make that extra effort. I comb my hair, put on my lotion, and that's it. 

And what just takes the cake are those smelly and annoying weirdos on the transit. If there is anything I cannot take that's really bad [body] odour. I mean....ugh. Okay cannot think about this in too much detail or else will have to go throwup. But yeah. And then they sit all smirky across from you and cross their legs over the knee in that weird not-straight fashion. Um okay. First you're all pervy at me and now you're acting all gay? This is a true story from not so long ago mind you (yesterday evening). And, speaking of which, he was wearing somewhat effeminate flats (shoes) and when he crossed his leg over his knees, the way women do, his pant leg rose up his leg. Ewww. Body odour, now flaky dry skin dust on top of bad weather. Cannot breathe.

Plus everyone is sneezing sporadically. I'm sneezing, my coworkers are sneezing, even my poor little kitten is sneezing.  It gets hot then cold then hot then cold. And then wonders why everyone is miserable with the sniffles. Gosh! Bloody weather.

This post is sponsored by the Blog Every Day in May Challenge:

Day 22, : Rant about something. Get up on your soapbox and tell us how you really feel.

Bedim: Still Catching up. Days 4 and 5

Day 4, Saturday: Favorite quote (from a person, from a book, etc) and why you love it.

When we encounter a question regarding our favourite quote, we already expect that the answer is going to actually entail quite a few. But since this 'assignment of the day' says singular, I'm going to keep it simple and pull out one out of the great number that have accompanied through my years.

Life is 10% what happens to you and 90% how you react to it.

It might seem amazing how often this quote can apply through every different situation, but then again that's exactly it: it's about life. So often what details our interactions with other people is not only what we or they do, it's how we all react.

For instance, when someone angers you, you have the choice of lashing back, or taking the high road and ignoring them. Lashing back gives that person the satisfaction of knowing they have that power over you, to make you react to them in such a fashion, or simply, to react at all. And that's on the outside, the 'public reaction'. What about inside - where you're really feeling the need to tell them off, get down 'n' dirty, vocally beat them up, or maybe even physically beat them up? What I've found is that you become a better person within- eventually - when you're able to control how you react on the outside. Soon, the words of other people fall off, "water off a duck's back", and they become insignificant, as unworthy of your attention as the little critters down below in the cracks in the sidewalk, probably less so. You develop an unwavering cool and calm. (From this one can then figure out that the people I do react to without the 'cool and calm face' are those who mean a helluva lot to me.)

Is it about ego? Not necessarily; I'd say it's about you preserving the wholeness of who you are. It's maintaining the goodness of your own being, we could say it's our own karma.

Which brings me to another thought, often we are presented with the choices in the moment we are to react. The way we choose to react actually guides how we retroactively believe we really feel about the situation. When you choose the easy anger route, and react accordingly, when you look back to whatever stimulated the reaction, you feel that yes you were actually angry about it right away. Contrastedly, had you chosen the cool "let it go" reaction, your recollection of the moment would make you feel that it wasn't actually such a big thing, and in fact below you. The way we react colours our actual cognition of recollection, our memory of emotion. Our reactions are so much more tangible, that it's easier to say 'I reacted this way of course I must have been pissed off', rather than trying to untangle the folds of feelings you may have felt originally. Often we forget that we choose how we react.

Day 5, Sunday: Publicly profess your love and devotion for one of your blogger friends. What makes them great? Why do you love them? If you don't have blogger friends, talk about a real-life friend or even a family member

Ahh, this is one of the worst assignments ever for me! I hate making mushy public declarations. I mean, the people I love know I love them - without having to dramatize it! And I like keeping it that way. But okay, okay.

First on my list is Wanderer. Kiara, Roo, Granny....the reason why she's first is because the assignment itself says 'blogger friends' so I'm keeping with the literal 'blogger friends' dictum by singling her out. This girl, years younger, and yet, since the very first time I laid eyes on her (well, her writing), I felt such a strong bond. The first time I did this was before I even registered my own blog. I was visiting Jiya's blog, reading one of J's posts about being down and depressed, and before I wrote my own comment of consolation, I was absolutely taken by the depth of insight, maturity in the one comment that was already there. I clicked on the commenter's name, visited her blog, and somehow I learnt that she was only 17 years old! To put what she wrote and that maturity with her age just bowled me over. When I write about this bond we have, I get a little teary-eyed. I'm getting it now too. But yeah, I think even if I were to give a little speech at her wedding years from now, I may even say this very same thing. Of course, by then we'll already have a ton more memories made, a lot of crazy antics, randomness and blah blah. Despite the number of years between us, I feel a similarity of frequency that's beyond explanation. And yet, we're so different in our own ways (thank heavens, who wants another IQ?)...and I know she's going to grow into one of the most magnificent women ever. I guess you can see how much of it is mutual by how much I'm rambling about her.

Second is Ajay Kontham. Again rank due to the 'blogger friend' dictum. There is an adorable quality about this dude, he rambles on about his life with such honesty, you can't not like him. He writes quite abundantly, and he does it so easily, for the reader I mean (he's often said how he struggles just to write things, and how many drafts he has hidden in his post folder)...it's enjoyable reading him. Makes me feel as if I'm reading an excerpt from a totally personable novel, a narration of an average guy's life, and I like that. He makes me laugh at odd times, at his clumsy way of trying to lecture himself or, in the past, disclaim whatever he writes as absolute nonsense. He's stopped doing that lately which is such a relief to all and sundry, because the guy can write. And he knows it, or he wouldn't write. But he has a great humbleness about himself, he doesn't try to be a real hero about it, he's down to earth about stuff like that, though you can tell he wishes he was Dexter:P

And that brings me to my friend Nerdyy who has only recently opened his OWN blog, and has been making good use of himself there. He's taken to blogging with such an ease that you can't help but say ABOUT TIME BUDDY, about him actually doing it. And can you imagine, he was going to wait till Summer to open his own blog. Good grief. Anyways, now I have a place where I can kick off my shoes and comment away :P "snarkily" as he says about my comments. Well he's just one of those great friends I CAN be totally snarky with and he knows its all with great love, afterall our friendship bloomed with a scornful look of disdain directed his way :D But yeah, another thing I need to point out about why he deserves a place in this write up is his consistent support and encouragement with his comments, in whichever silly crazy form they take.

Seeing as this is already getting lengthy, I have to end it with one more person who I cannot leave out. Mr. Invisible Smoke. He's always last but not least on these kind of lists. He ranks less as a 'blogger friend' or net friend at all, because he's there to poke and bug in real life. But yes, his grudging entry onto Blogger happened a year ago, again with my coercion. Thinking about his growth on blogger makes me swell with pride, because it charts his development as a cook. Prior to his first attempt, he thought he would burn water and didn't know how to work a rice cooker. If you go through his posts these days, you wouldn't believe it. In fact, last week Wanderer asked me what does Smoke do for a living? Is he a chef? - I kid you not. She really thought he was that good, to be a chef! But truly and honestly, I can't even put in words how amazingly proud I am of him, so I won't even try. Likewise, as my best friend, he's been a great encourager and supporter through all I do. The nonsense I write, making time to listen to every song I post and comment on it all, even reading my essays when I send them to him, when he has no clue what they're about..So this assignment couldn't be completed without mentioning him. Quit gloating now.

I have some honorary mentions of course: 

Layla - she has a hard time doing so much work, but she tries..and its her trying that touches the heart. :D

Ether - again a quiet and observing commenter, an AWESOME writer himself.

Jiya - because through her I met Kiara, and then AK, and somehow from visiting her blog I was in the mindset to start writing on blogger itself. :)

Blog Every Day in May: Catching Up. Days 1, 2, 3

Day 1, Wednesday: The story of your life in 250 words or less (or one paragraph... no one will be counting your words... probably)

There are a few things that make me who I am, and therefore how the story of my life unfolds. One of the first is that I am a nonconformist, or I am internally. I'm pretty good at being a conformist when I do overcome that interval voice of rebellion; I'm good at being normal, even though it would be hard to tell that from those who either know me as the crazy eccentric I seem to be most often. Another thing that makes me who I am, is that I don't like being told what to do and as such, these things bring me into what would have been the introduction to what I am doing now. I have enlisted myself into the Blog Everyday in May challenge that two other bloggers, Wanderer and Ajay Kontham, have been posting about since the start of May. And so this is how my story goes.

The spark happened, with a great joy and new love. Love of two beings that were intertwined in that deep and innocent way that goes beyond explanation, one that I could never have explained for I was the result of it. But the spark was there, and that spark was me, entering a world filled with a brilliant yellow sun, and the blue skies of a quiet morning. Under the devotion of the shelter and nurture of vivid green, my first lesson was a smile - not one that I was exactly taught for I entered this world with a giggle and a laugh, and I was to be the beloved. Beloved of these two, and perhaps beloved of the world, for isn't that the dream of a parent always? So I grew with the warm hand of the stem upon my head and the cooling grace of the leaves giving me every comfort, and I was given companions, smaller than I and I too learnt to nurture and protect, until one day the skies gave vent to horrendous storms and without warning one day the leaves were gone. The tree stood bereft and alone with only three little acorns to its name. It shook in grief and the acorns fell, and took root. So I grew, apart and distant, and in a world different and strange. When it rained, it rained down hard, without protection, and I learnt to grow stronger for it. When the sun beat down, dry and hostile, I learnt to embrace it for it was all the warmth I had. I learnt to send out tendrils and shoots, and to create as creativity only could, to cherish the birds that gave vent to song upon my shoulders, and to shelter the squirrels and smaller trees that grew under my shade. Every time I built up hope, and vibrant buds sprang anew, and fluorished as I did under the yellow that I knew so well, and every time my hopes sank, and I shed my tears as each leaf fell again, in despair. Alone I stood, night and day, bending to catch glimpses of a horizon beyond my reach. Until one day I heard a voice.

"Life does become routine after some time. It's normal. You can't always have excitement and whatever. Routine is a good thing, I guess. Stability."

"Stability is this tree rooted down deep and standing alone."

"Then half the world is alone."

"Yes."

"We can be alone and stable together."

That's when I looked up at the skies and knew them for what they were. I had come to love the sun because I endured the rain, I had come to love the rain because I endured the sun, I loved the cool nights because of the day, and the day because of the night. And I welcomed and appreciated companionship for the loneliness I had endured. But most importantly I learnt to cherish simply being alive, and so doing, that even I had a story to tell.

Day 2, Thursday: Educate us on something you know alot about or are good at. Take any approach you'd like (serious and educational or funny and sarcastic)

Okay class, today's lesson is on how to be good at things. Yes, I realize this might be confusing: I'm meant to educate you on something I'm good at, well that's just it, I'm good at being good at things. What things, you might ask? Well somethings like cooking, or writing, or drawing, or making up plans of actions, or, well things like that, everyday kind of things. You always felt you were good for nothing right? Well here is something that you should know: you can do anything.

The first thing you need is faith. You need to tell yourself that no matter what, you will be able to do what needs to be done. Don't worry yet about the hows and whys - thinking about that right away doesn't get you anywhere, and ties up your neurons into tangles of panic, so you tell yourself at the outset that it's impossible.

Next, add some confidence. Who cares if you don't know what the heck you're doing. No one else needs to know that! If you act like you know what you're doing, how will anyone else tell that you don't? If you say NO right away, you've already eliminated the mere possibility of you being able to do something you'll surprise yourself, amaze yourself with, never mind others. If you tell yourself YES, you either fail or succeed, you have a 50%-50% chance compared to the 0% chance you allot yourself when you say NO. That 50% success rate is what you're going to take into your hands and optimize it with faith and confidence. 

Now you take a look at what you are trying to do. You need to first understand how to do it. Oftentimes it's going to take a lot of attempts until you understand not only what to do right, but what not to do - because you're going to remember all the times you screwed up and how you screwed up way more than you'll remember how you did it right. So don't worry about screwing up- that's the key to being a kickass whateveryouredoing-er. 

Maybe you think, ahh some people just have the luck by genetics or the way they were raised, I mean, some people are colourblind afterall, right, so makes sense they can't paint. Well, that's negativity at play, the chances are the 1 in a really big handful that you're not afflicted with anti-ability genes. Throw the negativity out with the bathwater. Sometimes it's just fun to make a mess at trying to do something while on the way to being really good at it. I mean, it really wouldn't be as fun if you did a perfect job right away like a robot, or it wouldn't be so satisfying as if you knew once upon a time you really sucked at it, and now you're pro.

So how does it work? Believe you can do it. Carry the confidence. Follow instructions, make yourself quite familiar with the how-to of what you're doing.   Do it many times. Don't be afraid to screw up. Learn from your mistakes. Have fun doing it. Practice. Do not be afraid to laugh at yourself. Remember it takes baby steps to become a Mozart, or Picasso, or Einstein or err, Gordon Ramsay.

Think I'm just spewing usual gunk? I mean yeah, I don't blame you, we've all heard this stuff soooo often we're almost immune to it: 'practise makes perfect', 'if at first you don't succeed, try try again'...etc. So, to get my point across, let me give you a few personal examples.

I hated English. At one time, I used to write my answer to 'worse subject' whenever it came up in quizzes or surveys as "English". I thought it was as far away a satisfying subject as possible, because anyone who had the authority to pass judgement on what were MY opinions and words would judge through THEIR own opinion and such objectivity and judgement pissed me off.  I never thought I was even good at it, even despite decent high marks in the subject, a teacher who took me out in the hallway to argue with me that I should be applying to the Enriched 'nerdy' English course the following year, and I told her bluntly that I don't enjoy it, I don't like writing and blah blah blah. She sneakily changed my next year enrollment from Normal English to Enriched English, and that changed my life. (My french teacher did the same to me :( Conspiracy, I tell you!). I'm going to tell you, when I was in enriched English, I was totally average. I got back essays totally murdered with the figurative red of comments and corrections. For awhile I anguished, my A-average was at verge of being at risk. That's when I took a second look at whatever I was doing wrong and realized she was telling me what I was doing really well but could have been better.

Similarly, when I started high-school Calculus, I had entered the class knowing everyone was prepared to fail. So I wasn't at all surprised when the first few weekly tests rendered me 55% or 67%. I had accepted that as normal. Then one day I thought, WHY does it have to be normal? Just because everyone else is screwing up and we're all happy with it, doesn't mean I CAN'T be good at Calculus. That's when I took out my underused textbook and started familiarizing myself with the hows of all those equations and stuff. I went home and took out scrap paper, tried out some questions, compared to answers, and kept trying whenever I got one wrong. Then suddenly I realized I was doing it flawlessly, and with ease. Suddenly -just because I tried- I was good at Calculus. I still remember my teacher's face the day he handed out the next weeks test papers marked. He came down the aisle and called out my name, and was midway to handing it to me when he FROZE and looked at the mark and looked at me, and goes "What? This is yours?" I shrugged and then took the paper from him, confused at his comment, then saw my paper - an A. 

These are two of many MANY examples of what I've learnt to do well, things which I do now, and don't realize I actually am good at, but others think I am. I've learnt to cook very well, and often I get remarks from people that its restaurant-quality food. I taught myself. Completely taught myself. I still don't think I'm really that exceptional a writer, and yet when people do let me know it, I'm so amazed at the idea that I AM. I simply enjoy it....so I don't think it's really that big a deal. You probably think you're not good at a ton of stuff, but you know what, you are; you just gotta tell yourself so too.

Day 3, Friday: Things that make you uncomfortable

Sight: Poverty, animal slaughter, mistreatment of both humans and animals, witnessing an argument or fight.

Hearing: Raised voices, anger, dissonance. Noise. So much silence, it comes with that piercing high pitch frequency cutting through uncomfortably.

Taste: Spoilage, over-saltiness. The taste of something in my mouth that brings to mind some remembrance of animal-ism, of violence, slaughter, death.

Smell: Really bad body odour, the smell of stale and unwashed person. The smell of cooking meat, makes me feel sick to my stomach. Rancid and abnormal bad smells in general. Bad cologne, overdosed, soaked in fake perfumery

Touch: Pervs sitting too close to me on the public transit, trying to lean legs against mine, crossing arms so as to get closer to the torso. Random strangers simply getting too close, passing the personal space boundary.