Still stuck in the middle

Yup, the photo you see is another poem published at the back on Hornbill magazine. The magazine's theme last year is about memory and Pn. Chu (my English teacher back then) asked me to write a poem about my memories back in Lok Yuk. Now, I nearly forgot about it, until this morning I saw a notification on facebook that caught me awake at 6:30 am. It's a snapshot of the back of the magazine with my poem on it. This time, I notice the slight errors throughout this poem. Why do I think of this? Oh, that's it. It's because I've learnt to write proper poems. Ever since I'm in Douglas College, I struggle hard to write something that impress my instructor and my peers. And now that I have more knowledge on writing good poems, I've realized that I've reached the "western" level of writing. Now in playwriting class, I found myself struggling with character development, but someday I'll achieve that. 

Wow, college do give people to a challenge that no one can offer, and they can change a person's perspectives. I've published to my school and the Borneo Post (entire k.k), but what about the entire Malaysia? And then Canada, then the entire world. I'm still at the middle of the stairs. Hopefully I'll get to the next step. I've nearly forgotten what my aim of becoming a writer is, until this comes in. =)

Something more than that..

Looks like my posts are getting more personal, huh? I haven't see Loiuse recently. She's probably busy with her EASL classes. Yes, I'm still lonely. But that doesn't matter. I'm staying strong, but somehow the surface of my heart is scratched. In those quiet, stressful months, I waited for Ivy or any other friend back home to pop in online to chat. Unfortunately, nothing happened. I begin to have mood swings lately, and it's not due to menstruation. I have nightmares that I will lose my friends, and I have visions that will create sad stories of girls losing their old friends. I even have visions that true love can never happen, it's another story, I know everlasting romance don't exist in reality. Anyway, staring at a blank screen on Whatsapp on my phone just bothers me. I didn't know that loneliness could be this painful. Back when I was a kid, I've experienced loneliness, and I have no problem about it, well except the part of being bullied. But now...when it comes to being isolated, negative emotions just come to me, like a sword that is dragged straight through my chest. Loneliness also caused to lose faith. Realizing that there's no brother or sister in church who has the time to talk to me makes me think that God doesn't grant me company..or something.

Haha. I know I should have focused on my school work now. But here's what I think. A conversation has limits. Either short of long. You can't possibly have a 24-hours conversation with a person every single day, right? I wish this could happen, but there's no way I can stay awake all night to chat. We all have responsibilities, and it's hard for us to find spare time to keep in touch with our loved ones. When a word or a sign is given that symbolizes a conversation to be stopped, it kind of gives me a sad feeling that the dialogue is over. A conversation can be continued the next day, or another day. A conversation is..like a long line of boundaries. It's blocked by a gap of silence, and then it's continued by another wave. And when a conversation is stopped, I would feel like a friendship bond has been broken. We're not that close now, thanks to my separateness. I'm not happy of being all alone here, and the longer I've lived here, the more I realize that I've changed. I've become critical, especially in creative writing. I've turned back to the antisocial girl I once were. However, I voice out my opinions in class like once or twice every week, and sometimes I freeze for giving the wrong answer. Still, that's how a little confidence is built in me. I would eventually pretend that I'm wearing a mask so that no one can see my face, like in English class when I act out a scene while wearing a mask. You can't feel anything when you wear a mask. You will feel that you're a whole new person and your true self has become invisible. Amazing, isn't it? I want to change myself, but changing a big part of myself will cause trouble.

There's a lot I want to pour out from the deepest part of my heart here. I wonder when will a smile finally come to me.

Neglect, pain..is no more

Once you see the old photos of me having my first birthday party back when I was primary 5 or that the times when I put a fake smile on my face with my family, you never notice the unbearable negative feelings I had inside me. Back when I was in primary school, I may had made friends. But there's also Chinese boys who verbally abused me every day. A few teachers were strict to me, caning me and discouraging me in my weak progress. The only subject I was good at is the English language. Since I went to my mother's tuition centre for English tuition for many years, I was able to ace in all English exams. The other subjects were a total struggle to me, including math. They were all in Chinese, which was another problem for me. I went to numerous tuitions for the other Chinese-based subjects, and I received ear pulling, caning, harsh scolding punishments from the tutors. No one ever saw me cry in my room, absorbing my sorrow. As I grew older, I told myself that crying never solve anything. However, the bullying from the Chinese students tore my heart to bits day by day. I even told my parents about the bullying in class once, but even the solution of switching seats didn't work. I was tricked for going to the wrong class when I was primary 6, thanks to the heartless boys. The bullying once caused me to have revenge...on a boy in primary 5. It was terrifying. I still remember how the accident went. But I don't want to talk about it. I didn't tell anyone about this. Only the victim and the teacher knew. Revenge is definitely never the answer.

The bullying continued when I was in secondary school. New faces but the same methods of teasing me and mocking me behind my back. People said that I'm a quiet, shy, antisocial, innocent, fast-walking, skinny girl. As puberty reached, I began to have my appetite expanded and grew taller. However, I grew chubby. I was unable to keep my skinny figure right. My first crush happened when I was 13, and I couldn't believe I went gaga about this guy. An unforgettable, embarrassing incident happened when I purposely showed my diary to my Malay and Kadazan friends, and entries about my crush were written all over. He knew about it. That day onwards, I was made fun by them. I nearly gave up on finding another group of friends. When I was 14, the bullying grew worse than I ever imagined. I was blocked from going to my seat every recess by boys. I heard snickers behind my back about how weird I was. I got sick of being with the natives. The girls in tudungs and boys in songkoks. That's the time when I secretly plan to commit suicide. I struggled with the Malay language and other Malay-based subjects, and this caused me to lose strength even more. When family members started to call me fat, I shivered at the thought of pointing a knife to my chest or hanging myself around a cloth. I didn't feel like going back to school, but I was forced to go, and was smacked in the face by hurtful words.

When I was form 3 (grade 9), I groaned at another year of misery. However, I was wrong. One school day, a girl named Ivy came to me with an invitation to a sports event. It's more like a flag raising ceremony. I agreed to go, yet I was surprised to see someone who would bravely came to me. That day, I brought along my stories to work on in case I got bored. I was a dreamer, yet I didn't know why I still keep writing my imagination down on paper. Once the girl saw me writing a story, she got really interested and I borrowed her my story. She..loved it! I was surprised and happy to hear such praise for the first time. She then begged me to borrow her every single volume of the novel series I was writing. She became my very first fan. And this encouraged me to make a final decision in who I want to be. I want to become a writer. A famous writer who publishes books to the entire world. And I followed this big dream of mine. Ivy was kind enough to allow me to sit with her in every class. She also introduced me to a bunch of new friends. Eloise, Brenda, Vivian..We grew to become close friends. We had this texting "relationship" like every day after school and we shared our interest in a girl cartoon called "Winx Club". She even shared some of her ideas for my novel series. In my 4th and 5th years of secondary school, the friendship between myself and Ivy grew tighter than before. I liked being with my group of new friends. Haznol, Shirlie, and Paulette were included. They were all just..special and friendly and amazing. Ivy and I had our first sleepovers. We even had hangouts together in Sutera Harbour and malls. And whenever I was with Ivy, the bullying faded away like a click on a mouse. All the pain wrapped around in my heart were all gone. She became my biggest inspiration. A great influence in my first contact lenses, my first cell phone, my first skinny jeans. She would probably be the reason why my faith in God began to recover. The reason why I started to have strength grow in me once again. And..the reason why I began to smile.

The most unforgettable moment I could ever remember with my current and always best friend, Ivy, was when I bade farewell to her before I left to Canada for further studies. We had one last sleepover at my place, and one last hangout at Sutera Harbour with a few precious friends whom I never forget. Anyway, that very evening, when Ivy put her things in the trunk of her car, she came to give me a hug. I broke down and cried like a baby. She hugged me tighter like I'm a teddy bear and spoke comforting words to me. That moment seemed like forever. I made promises to her, that I'll smile even when things get tough, that I'll do my best in college, that I'll have the courage to speak, and that I'll have the time to keep in touch with her.

Not having Ivy around is like having pain coming back to me. But her videos posted on Facebook on my birthdays and the remaining messages she left in my inbox reminds me that she will always be by my side forever. I'm now here, in Coquitlam, British Columbia, Canada. I'm currently studying in Douglas College to get an associate of arts degree in Creative Writing before transferring to UBC. I have goals I want to achieve, and I hope my dear friends will have goals to achieve as well. I may still be alone, even though I have my family here with me, but I'll never be happier if Ivy and all my friends (Eloise, Brenda, Haznol, Paulette, Shirlie, Tess, Vanessa, Michelle John, Chaw, Kong, Charlene, Vivian, Isabelle, Chin...everyone) will someday soon pop in online and chat with me.