Courage

This come randomly in my head one night.

I guess it was last night.

Kenduri tahlil for arwah atuk was held last night and as usual, family gathers.

And I've met my cousins, and it was lovely in a way.

But this little cousin of mine is just 11 years old and she was excited as she came back from her school camp. Which kinda brought me walking down a memory lane, of me myself when I was exactly 12 years old and having my first camp at a jungle. The camp was torturous in a way but the most adventurous camp I've ever been in my whole life (as it turns out I haven't got the chance to go camping at any jungle after that). My cousin, her name is Maria, and she told her exciting stories, of course nevertheless, the most exciting thing a for things to happen in a camp is ghost stories.

And I remembered mine, having to walk on my own. In the jungle, we were prepared a road, so dark that all I could see is the moon light and the dim light from the street lamps that is located so far away from one another. 

I remembered being scared, but I also remembered not crying, not flinching, not girl-like at all.

And I remembered, seeing someone in the wood besides me, giving away sounds I did not recognized.

But the me at that age have grown more than usual. I've instantly put a label to any sound or anything that I've saw to be something artificial. Something that my teachers would do for fun. I've put away fear because I believed fear would only draw these creatures closer to me.

And now when I'm older I kind of realized that, I wasn't being brave. I was just trying to be safe. My mind protected me to not give in into my fear. That there are nobody out there who is fearless. We all fear something, we all have something to be scared of.

But how we managed our fear, is what is supposed some people call as courage.

And during that time I guess, I was so fearful that I tell myself to manage my fears, so that I can be safe.

And I guess over time, I've managed to cope up with having myself managing my fears. If there's something that I'm afraid of, my mind will think of a way to escape, to manage that fears. It could be me facing the fears or the other way around, but whatever it is, I'd know that it's a way that I'm trying to keep myself safe.

That we human, always just wanted to keep ourselves safe.

To live.

And to survive.

Prochnost.

And I hope from time to time, I'll learn to be more braver, to conquer my fear more and to overcome every obstacles there is infront of me.

Let's be wild creatures.

Disembark from this sea of emotions.

Be a conqueror.

And live. 

scars

Hey everyone.

I've been in my holiday mood since last Thursday.

I am here now at JB with my beloved, a luxury I can never say no to.

So like usual, holiday is always connected with me watching my series, being at home doing some gemuk-fication. Bullies my mom and my sister, reading books and of course, shutting the outer world.

Me being happy in my bubble wrap.

That's what holiday means to me.

So. I just really wanted to update my blog but I don't really have anything to talk about. Which is funny because I've always have something to complain about and then motivated myself back. I mean this is the whole purpose of my blog. To pour out and to retain myself back.

I have so many things to say about what happen before holiday but then past is past so I'm not really that eager-ish to share the stories. And I guess some people are meant to be story tellers and some people are meant to be a listener and I'm maybe more to the later.

But the night before raya haji, we have a ladies night.

Me, akak and mama. Pouring our heart out. In total darkness.

Basically that's what I do when I met akak after a long time we haven't seen each other.

My best of best of friend is my sister, and also my mother.

I guess blood is blood.

and I guess what I learned in that total darkness, is that the scar I have when I was a kid.

I meant as indirect scar which is my childhood year being ruined by some, immature boys that acted like brats, do impact me in a way I never recognizes.

I cried in that total darkness, 

I thought the pain had gone away but it's still there in the back of my head.

My mom questioned the fact that I've never told here after all these times, and I have no words. All I knew was that I thought during that time it is something that I have to handle on my own. That it's only some kids act and nothing to be worried about.

But I guess it hurts in a way.

And maybe because I was keeping it all in that it explodes one fine day.

And that day happens to be few nights before this night.

almost ten years later or more.

I was sexually harassed when I was six.

It's not really a big deal but yes,I was six, and I had to deal with this thing on my own.

And I guess I still have some vendetta against these memories.

I haven't let it go.

I haven't learn on how to really really let go.

maybe one day I'll learn to appreciate my scars.

And I hope that one day can come soon.