Saturday, 28 March 2015

Conforming to Society

I reckon I've been pretty good at this lately.  I've been talking to all the right people, saying all the right things, being the right balance of friendly.  I've been considerably normal, and I must say, it is a good feeling.  Being normal.

But am I really happy?  Is this the right way to view life?


The other day this guy gave a talk at my school about drugs and alcohol and that kind of thing.  He made a really valid point about how we're all programed to think that every teen does it, and that drinking and doing drugs is 'normal'.  The media is always talking about teen alcohol problems.  The movies always depict teenagers going to parties, or 'gathos' as we apparently like to call it.  But we all know it's bad for you.  We all know you're ruining your brain at 15.  I can't even pinpoint a positive reason why anyone would want to do drugs or alcohol.  So then why do people do it?  It's because they think it's 'normal', they think it's 'cool', they want to conform to society, and I'm certainly hoping my conformity never goes that far.  Honestly though, looking at my grade of private school girls, the majority of us are pretty good.  Normal.


I would say I have two types of friends.  There are those who care a lot about conformity.  And there are those who don't give a f*ck.

Today I went to the boys' fete with two people of the former.  They are always seemingly self conscious, caring so much about popularity and what they say.  When we saw three other girls from our grade, one of which my friend had been bragging about being really good friends with, she immediately turned us around and headed in the other direction.  My other conforming friend did the same, while we just followed.  Later when we asked why we just wasted our time walking away, she said, "Oh.  I didn't want it to be awkward because I would've said hi and you guys would've been just standing there.  I didn't wanna be rude to you guys."  For freakin sake they're just people.  And it's not like I've never had a conversation with any of them, and even if I hadn't, it would be fine.  People talk to people.  We're all equal and if she feels self conscious with her 'friend' she should just say so.

They also talk about certain things, such as formals, or working out, or eating healthy, or parties, or the connections they have.  And you know what?  It gets boring.  So so boring.  And if, shock horror, I accidentally say something random, it's judgemental looks galore.  They don't like certain people, they don't like sitting with certain people, they're like an exclusive little group.  But you know what?  They're not really a group either.  Sure, they're friends, but the trademark quality of people who love conforming, is that there's a fifty fifty chance they'll ditch each other for someone 'more popular'.

But what about those people who care so so much, but have a serious lack of social skills.  They're the ones I pity because no matter what they'll never be happy with their otherwise awesome selves.  I've heard remarks like, "well who wouldn't wanna be popular?"  Tell you what, if you want to be popular so bad, go be it.  Go get in with 'the crowd'.  It's not all that hard.  After all, the people you think are the best form of 'normal' are equal to you.  You're the one putting them on that pedestal.  They're equal to you, but simply like different things, or aren't compatible as friends, which is why you're not friends with them in the first place.  The friends you have now are the right people for you.  Because you found them and they found you, and you guys have the funniest conversations.


Which brings me to those other friends.  The ones who don't care.

Actually, there's not much to say about them really, besides the fact that they're awesome to hang out with, and don't care who they hang out with (to a certain extent), and are generally more liked by the school population anyway, which is ironic.


But here's the big question.  What am I?

Judging myself a year ago, I was such a conformer.  I cared so much.  But now?

I guess you can say I'm working on it.  Sometimes I still do care who I'm seen with, and I try hard to fit in, be 'normal'.  But I guess the reason I feel more 'normal' now is that I care less.  I don't care as much what people think of me.  I think the value of a conversation is a lot more important than being seen with a particular person.  It's weird that I could ever think otherwise.

I don't want to care but I think we all do.  Even those people who act as if they don't.  They do.  It's fighting the urge to conform that counts.  It's seeing through that and finding what you really want behind that curtain of wanting to be 'normal'.

We're all people with different experiences.  We don't know anyone else's but our own.  So technically, 'normal' doesn't exist.

Love,
M

Wednesday, 25 March 2015

Working Out at Home

I hate the gym.  Well, I've never actually been, but I can tell I'd hate it.  It's just the idea of working out in public, where other people can judge you and your tomato red sweaty face.  That's why I think it's best to work out at home, where you're in private and feel comfortable with giving it your all.  I mean, if you're already going to be putting yourself in a challenging position, you need to be pretty content before you start.


So work out at home.  There's no excuses to why you can't.  You have a floor.  That's really all you need.

Okay, so first of all, it's easy to do a simple 30 second plank, or 25 sit ups, or 10 push ups.  It really doesn't take all that long.  And you can even do exercises in intervals.  I have a friend who's a really serious runner, and while her ankle was healing she had to do this sit up routine to keep up her core or something.  What she did was 20 sit ups, and a minute rest, 20 sit ups, and a minute rest, and so on for five times.  The important thing about working out though is that you can't cheat yourself.  You've actually got to do 20 proper sit ups, legs on the ground, arms crossed on your chest, going all the way up.


Other than those simple on the whim exercises, there's also YouTube.  It literally has everything FOR FREE.  So there's no need to go paying $80 for a special Kayla Itsines workout plan or anything. 

The first time I tried one of these I did some kind of ballet cardio thing with Jessica Smith.  I loved her workouts for a while, each lasting about half an hour and working out pretty much the whole body. What I liked about it was that being ballet it was partially graceful, and it wasn't all that intense, only getting tired at the very end.  Check out her channel at Jessica Smith TV

And this was the first video I did by her:


Another one I tried at the beginning was this really intense series of workouts called 'the 30 day shred'.  It was basically a bunch of circuits targeting different parts of the body that went for about half an hour altogether.  It was pretty intense, but it definitely worked out everything and you feel amazing when you're done.  I think the video was from a fitness channel with all sorts of different gym type classes called Be Fit.

And here's the '30 day shred' video I did.  Apparently it's level 2, so maybe it would've been better to start on level 1...


And finally, it's time for my favourite.  This channel was recommended by my friend, and it's pretty much the only one I use now.  Every single workout is both short and extremely difficult.  I've given up a lot, but I'm getting better.  I can tell my muscles are getting stronger.  I've even begun using her beginners calendar now (which is FREE on her website).  This channel is none other than Blogilates!!

Here's a video I did yesterday.  It was a little easier than her usual.


I'm actually really liking Pilates right now.  I think it's the control, and how you can feel the part of the body you're targeting burn.  I mean, I'm still acquainting myself with managing that burn, but I'm just imagining the day when I'll find that I like the feeling.  I already feel proud every time I feel it, because I know I'm doing it right and I know I'm actually working it. 

So maybe you should work out at home.  Even work out right now.  Try one of these videos, or just get on the floor and do a few sit ups.  It's not like you have many excuses when it's all literally at your fingertips.  You really can exert your body anywhere.

Love,
M

Sunday, 22 March 2015

Any Random Page

I'm procrastinating.  I just really don't want to have to start my day, leave these comfortable pyjamas and begin understanding our very complicated economy.  So why don't we do something else?

I've been reading this really good book lately, called The Winner's Crime, and I also finished the last book in a series, called The Ruby Circle.  And when I think about it, I've actually read so many good books in my lifetime and all the stories are just piling up in my head, intertwined in my ideas about life.  And I love that I like reading.  I couldn't imagine not.

So how about we take some snippets from these stories.  I'm going to open to any random page of each book I've picked off my shelf and post what it says.  It'll give you an excerpt of sorts, an insight into the story, which will probably make no sense.

 

Crown of Midnight - Sarah J Maas, page 289


"She knows to stick to poetry and mathematics books."

Celaena's face was grave and pale, but her eyes shone with faint amusement.  She wore a dark blue tunic he'd never seen before, with golden embroidery that glinted in the dim light.  In fact, her whole outfit looked new.

The silence that settled between them made him shift on his feet.  What could he possibly say to her?  The last time they'd been this close, she'd grazed her nails across his neck.  He still had nightmares about that moment.

"Can I help you find anything?" He asked to her.  Keep it normal, keep it simple.

"Crown prince and royal librarian?"

"Unofficial royal librarian," he said.  "A title hard won after many years of hiding here to avoid stuffy meetings, my mother and... well, everything else."

"And here I was thinking you just hid in your little tower."

Dorian laughed softly, but the sound somehow killed the amusement in her eyes.  As if the sound of merriment was too raw against the wound of Nehemia's death.  Keep it simple he reminded himself.  "So?  Is there a book I can help you find?  If that's a list of titles in your hand, then I could look them up in the catalogue."

"No," She said, folding the papers in half.  "No, there's no book.  I just wanted a walk."

And he'd just come to a darker corner of the library to read.

But he didn't push it, if only because she could easily start asking him questions, too.  If she remembered what had happened when she attacked Chaol, that is.  He hoped she didn't. 

There was a muffled shriek from somewhere in the library, followed by a string of howled curses and the familiar pitter-patter of paws on stone.  Then Fleetfoot came sprinting down the row, a scroll of paper in her jaws.


Legend - Marie Lu, page 105


The pain makes me light-headed and angry.  No rules?  So be it.

When Kaede comes again, I twist her arm in a tight hold.  In one move, I shatter it.  She screams in pain.  When she tries to pull away, I continue to hold on, twisting the broken arm behind her back until I see the blood drain from her face.  A knife slips out from the bottom of her tank top and clatters to the ground (a serrated knife, just as I thought.  Kaede is not a normal street beggar.  She has the skills to get her hands on a nice weapon like that - which means she might be in the same line of business as Day.  If I weren't undercover, I'd arrest her right now and take her in for questioning.)  My wound burns, but I grit my teeth and maintain my grip on her arm.

Finally Kaede taps me frantically with her other hand.  I release her.  She collapses to the ground on her knees and her good arm.  The crowd goes nuts.  I clutch my bleeding side as tightly as I can, and when I look around, I see money exchanging hands.  Two people help Kaede out of the ring (she shoots me a look of hatred before she turns away), and the rest of the onlookers start up their chant.

"Choose!  Choose!  Choose!"

Maybe it's the dizzying pain from my wound that makes me reckless.  I can't contain my anger anymore.  I turn without a word, roll my shirtsleeves back up to my elbows, and flip my collar up.  Then I step out of the ring and start shoving my way out of the circle.


Hunting Lila - Sarah Alderson, page 172


He sighed.  "I thought that if you knew the same people who killed your mum were after you, you might try to do something stupid.  Like act as bait.  Or that you'd run away, thinking we couldn't protect you.  You looked so scared."

"You thought I'd run away?"  Before last night, I'd never have run away from Alex.  I'd run to him all the way from London in the first place.

"It has been known, Lila.  It's not that absurd a conclusion to draw."  He took a sip of coffee.

He had a point, so I pressed my lips together and let him carry on.

"I thought you should know about Jack and your father - the reason Jack was appearing so unreasonable."  He placed his hands on the table.  "But I didn't think you deserved to know the same people were after you as killed your mother.  Why would you deserve the fear that would cause?  When the threat wasn't even established-" He ran a hand through his cropped hair then put it back on the table, around his coffee.  He looked up at me through his dark gold lashes and suddenly he was my Alex again.  The boy who was holding my hand at the funeral, keeping strangers at bay.  "Lila, I hate seeing you scared and hurt and I wanted to protect you.  It's as simple as that."

I nodded.  He hadn't used the past tense.  He had said I hate seeing you scared.  It was enough to spark a flame of hope that he didn't despise me after all.

"Why did you leave the bar and run off like that?"

"Key was there.  He told me - he told me what you and Jack do for a living."

I didn't need to tell him that the deciding factor was not that but seeing him with Rachel.


Cinder - Marissa Meyer, page 292


How naïve of her to think it could be so simple.

"No? Yes?"

She fumbled, thinking it should have been easy to blame her silence on Adri, her cruel stepmother who had refused to let her leave the house, but it was not that easy.  She couldn't risk giving him hope.  She couldn't risk anything that might change her mind.

"It's just that I..."

She drew back, knowing that she should tell him.  He thought she was a mere mechanic, and he was, perhaps, willing to cross that social divide.  But to be both cyborg and Lunar?  To be hated and despised by every culture in the galaxy?  He would understand in a moment why he needed to forget her.

More than that, he probably would forget her just as quickly.

Her metal fingers jerked.  Her right hand was burning hot against the cotton. 

Pull off the gloves and show him.

She mindlessly reached for the hem, fingering the grease stained material.

But she couldn't.  He didn't know.  She didn't want him to know.

"Because you kept going on and on about the stupid ball." she said, cringing at her own words.

He dropped a cursory glance to the gold box in his hands.  The tension melted until his arms dropped to his sides.  "Stars Cinder, if I had known you were going to embargo me for asking you on a date, I wouldn't have dared."


Perfect Scoundrels - Ally Carter, page 98


It was still the Henley, and Kat and her crew were still the kids who'd robbed it, and so it was with more than a little trepidation that she followed Gabrielle (who had been forced to abandon her short skirts and tall heels for the occasion, lest any of the guards recollected seeing her legs on that fateful day last December).

The past was the past, and the people at Henley seemed to go about their business as if nothing had changed.

Kat, on the other hand, knew better.

The guards were on a different rotation.  The cameras had been upgraded no more than a month before.  The security system was running on an entirely different feed, and this time Kat could see Simon out of the corner of her eye, lingering by the doors to the North Garden.  His hands were shaking as he paced back and forth, looking like he was going to burst through the doors and run screaming from the Henley at any moment.  But he didn't.

"I don't like this.  I feel naked.  I feel... blind." Simon said through the comms unit.

"Then push your wig back." Gabrielle said from her place by the windows.

But that wasn't the problem, and Kat knew it.

"It's no fair." Simon said.  "They get to have computers and cameras.  With face-recognition software.  Have I mentioned I am not a fan of face-recognition software?"

"Yeah." Gabrielle told him.  "You might have mentioned it when we were shopping for fake noses."

Simon defended his honour.  Gabrielle insulted his nose.  But the words were just a distant humming in Kat's ears as...


And that's where I'm going to stop.  Because you have no idea how long it actually took to copy out pages word for word.  I'd say I've successfully procrastinated for the day, and I hope you somewhat enjoyed these pages ;)

Love,
M

Monday, 16 March 2015

Motherly Hatred

But do I really hate her? 

To the point where she lost all self control, swinging her ladybug lunch bag at my arm, causing me to double down in pain, do I really hate her?

And does it actually hurt that much or am I emphasising the pain and disrespect I now have just to hurt her?

Do I really hate her that much.



Lately there's been a theme of accusation.  She's been saying that I always blame everyone but myself, that some of my arguments are so outrageous I no longer mean anything any more.  She certainly perceives it that way, and maybe I should too.

I think it all comes down to independence.  Throughout my life she's been blown out of proportion as a mother figure, a god, and I guess I no longer believe she's all knowing and perfect.  But from the way I've grown up, I've been dependent on her for everything.  Now is that her fault or mine?  Am I doing the blaming thing again?


So if I stop asking her for money.  If I stop asking her to drive me places.  If I stop the implicit requirement that she does all the cooking and cleaning.  If I stop depending on her, will the arguments stop too? If I start providing my own food, doing everything on my own, she won't have any leverage over me.  But imagine how much harder my life would be.

I inflict so much pain on my mother, but why?  Is it because of the undeniable amount of rights she has over me?  The abject dependence I have on her?  Is it all of that that makes her such a disappointment in my eyes when I realise that she's no longer able to meet all my wants?  I ask so much of her that I forget that as I grow up my requirements are harder to meet, and yes they begin to become more unreasonable.

Maybe I need to do more on my own.


It's not the first time I've wished my mother were different.  I wish she were more knowledgeable in the beauty department.  I wish she had a better memory.  I wish she could control her anger.  I wish she were a better listener.  I wish she actually went to high school instead of skipping 4 grades, and moving out at 15, so maybe she'd understand me better.  But she's amazing in other aspects too, and no she's not the best mum in the world, but hey I can't get a new one.  That's not how mothers work.

It scares me knowing I'm like her in many ways.  I have the same anger problems, which is how our arguments can get so out of hand.  I'm worried I might have her tendency to not listen properly, or her moments of complete boastfulness, albeit her constant modesty.  I'm worried that sometimes I might act inferior like her, letting other people trample over me.  I don't want to be that person.  So am I going to have to work to overcome that?  Is she teaching me an indirect lesson here?

She's not all bad.  In fact, she's mostly good.  But I've had enough and she has too.  I think it's time to let that connection go.  She'd be a better business partner than a friend.  It's time for negotiation rather than arguments.  Anything is better than this perpetual yelling, even if it means giving up some of the privileges I've taken for granted.


As she said, we can't survive with such animosity in this house.

Love,
M

Friday, 13 March 2015

Words

I know it's an unusual topic, but lately I've had a preoccupation with my vocabulary.  You see, this year I have an English teacher who's especially passionate about words, and varieties of words, and crafting sentences concisely with words.  Every lesson she spurts out exquisite words that I can't even begin to comprehend.  So I guess my main incentive of expanding my vocabulary was her.  Or rather the panic I felt because I was afraid I wouldn't get a good mark on the upcoming essay.  I honestly still am uncertain about it, because I feel as if I'll never be able to write with enough variety to satisfy her.

But my panic about an essay is not the reason I'm writing this post.  The reason is more along the lines of the fact that I'm noticing words now.  You probably think I sound like an idiot, or some kind of overdramatic person who blows up every little thing, like "OoOooh words.  How interesting!"  But I'm being serious here.

If you think about it, words are how we dictate our thoughts.  We write out our opinions, our feelings (if you're into diaries and stuff), our conversations over texts.  I mean, we speak in words.  Without knowing them, how would we be able to communicate?

In Malaysia my koong koong gave me a book about vocabulary.  This wasn't uncommon as he has some sort of obsession with English.  I guess he's kind of like my English teacher in that way.  In fact, I think he was an English teacher at one point in his life.  Anyway, being me I put the book on a shelf and left it there with no solid intention of reading it.  I mean, I'll admit I was a little interested, as I've always known my vocabulary isn't exactly amazing.  But it's not like I picked it up until I was bored in a non-wifi zone and stuck with a whole bunch of younger cousins and older relatives, having already finished every single one of my other books.  I can't say I've read the book since, but here's what I gained from what I read...

We think in words.  All our thoughts are only comprehensible to us because we're communicating to ourselves in words.  And the more words you know the more thoughts your mind is open to.  It's like you can think of new concepts due to new definitions and new verbs and adjectives stuffed inside your brain.  Even my philosophy teacher talked about how language is a form of logic, because it's through definitions that we know whether something is real or not.  Well at least that's what I think he said.  I tend to turn my brain off in philosophy.  It hurts my brain and the class is... well, boring.

Back to words though, since I started noticing them, I started noticing new words everywhere.  Words I would normally skip over rather than search up the meaning of (and probably forget later).  I'm reading a book called the Ruby Circle, which is another Young Adult book, and even that has words like pragmatic and malaise of which I don't remember hearing before.  People talk using words like advocate and assets, which I know the meaning of but would never really use.  And even blog posts I've read have new words everywhere, of which are crafted specifically to what they're trying to say.

That's what I reckon words are most important for.  Writing.  Some people are able to create sentences and paragraphs in such an immaculate way.  And to me that means they are able to convey their thoughts precisely and uniquely.  It's an art in a way, like painting a picture with the perfect words instead of colours and strokes.  And just like painting, I'm pretty hopeless at it.  But that doesn't mean I won't work towards it, or I won't enjoy trying.

My friend has this bookmark which is a dictionary, meaning she can type in any word to find its definition.  You've probably seen one before.  When she first got it I was like, "yeah that's cool."  But now I want one (but not as much as I want a mac book pro).

It's difficult crafting perfect artistic meticulous sentences.  I notice that now, even here, writing a casual rambling blog post.  I'm not sure if I'm portraying my thoughts adequately to you.  I'm not sure if I'm giving you a clear image into what I'm thinking.  I'm not sure if I'm giving myself that.  Just imagine how much more knowledge I would have if I had more words...

Love,
M

Saturday, 7 March 2015

Early Mornings

Up until mid-January this year, I've always been the classic example of someone who would sleep in.  On weekdays, when I needed to wake up at 7:30 to go to school, I would purposely stay in bed until 7:35 and then 7:40 and sometimes even 7:50 just for those extra minutes of sleep.  I was someone who would say, "5 minutes more sleep is a lot in the mornings," and I'm sure a lot of you are able to relate to that.  Even on weekends, I would waste away half of my day before I woke up, leaving me somewhat groggy and unproductive for the rest of the day.  It was such a major waste of time.

Now, however, I wake up at 6:30 most weekdays and it carries over to my weekends.  This morning I woke up at around 7am voluntarily.  And you know what?  That means there's 5 more hours for me to get everything I need done.  It's not like I ever did anything in those hours from 8pm to 2am on the weekends, and even sometimes weekdays, so I may as well use my morning hours on something productive.

And you should join me.


Trust me, I never even considered it possible until a little motivation from a month long junk food binge and an amazing blog post I can't remember the name of now.  I hope to be that blog post for you ;)

If you aren't already persuaded by what I've just said, here's a list of reasons why waking up earlier is amazing.


1. You can get so much more done!

I've mentioned this earlier, but that's because it's so true.  We never consider mornings as a time to study or exercise, but it really is the best time for any of that.  It's so much easier to push yourself to do something in the morning than it is in the afternoon when you get back from school.  You've got to do something with that extra hour, or more depending on when you wake up, so go comment on some blogs, go over everything you need to know in science, go for a jog.  The last one is what I personally do, and it's the first time I've been pretty consistent about it for six weeks straight.  I have the time and motivation in the mornings.

2. It wakes you up

Okay, so this was me pre-waking up early: practically fall out of bed, slowly change and brush my teeth, drag myself downstairs for a miniscule breakfast, and trudge out to the car.  I sound so asleep, and I would arrive at school much the same, just pure tiredness for the first 20 minutes.  Now I jog and have a shower after, and I am so much more awake!  I can actually concentrate, my mind is sharp.  It's like the jogging clears my mind after sleeping and the whole process prepares my brain for a new day.  You don't need to jog if you don't want to go through the almost dying bit.  Going for a walk or having a nice relaxing cup of tea or chai latte or coffee, if you're still really asleep, is probably just as effective.  Although I suggest going outside.  The morning atmosphere is just so refreshing.


3. You can have a nice breakfast

Some mornings all I would have time for were two measly muesli bars.  I'd grab them and eat in the car, because otherwise I'd be late.  Now, however, I can eat Oats, proper cereal, yoghurt, anything in the house, because I have time to make anything.

4. You're never late

It's logic.  If you're awake an hour before you need to get ready you don't need to rush.  You can do extra stuff, and most definitely be ready and awake to start getting ready at 7:30 sharp, unlike the old days when you were sleeping in past that time.  Or you could be ready an hour before you need to leave, and spend that hour relaxing or being productive, always ready to hop into the car or get onto the bus.

 
5. You sleep earlier as well

Obviously if you're waking up earlier you're going to go to sleep earlier, otherwise this whole early morning thing would become unhealthy.  Your body just kind of corrects your sleeping patterns for you.  For someone like me, who would regularly stay up until 2am reading, I now don't ever sleep past midnight, even on a weekday.  In fact, I'm actually getting more sleep now than I was before, even though I'm also getting more done.


6. You just feel healthier

I think it's like a stereotype that people who wake up early and go for walks or jogs or watch the news and stuff are healthy.  I know the moment I went for my first morning jog I felt like I was a motivated fitness guru (I'm far from it).  The same goes for all those healthier breakfasts, and the way in which we carry ourselves all day.  It affects everything in a healthier way.

7. Studies show that early risers are happier people

They say it's because our lives are already structured around a morning schedule.  School goes from 9 to 3 and work goes from 9 to 5, generally.  It's also the combination of getting a good sleep, getting more done, including possibly making a to do list (which is a great idea) and having a relaxing morning routine, such as meditating or jogging or walking.  Studies even say early risers are generally more successful, which always does bring happiness ;)


So there's some very valid reasons as to why you should be waking up early, and if you're thinking that you could never do it, I did.  So why can't you?  It's just a matter of forcing yourself to get up, and allowing yourself the time to sleep, and your body will correct itself.

So, are you going to become an early riser?

Love,
M

Wednesday, 4 March 2015

People Talking About People

Today a girl asked me, "Does * like me?"  I didn't know how to respond.  I knew for a fact that * didn't like her.  We'd had multiple conversations about this already.  But I couldn't exactly tell her that.

"She's like a gross person with a mental problem.  She just can't talk to people."

"Who do you think is the prettiest in our year?"

"Who do you think is the funniest"

"Pick your top 3."

"I don't think she'll be very good at tutoring.  I can't imagine sitting down with her for an hour."

"She's just always strange."

"She doesn't even really model.  She's just showing off photos her parents paid to have taken of her."

"They were kicked out of the team because no one liked them.  They were just kinda annoying."

"I don't usually hate people.  But I hate her.  It happened 2 years ago and she still won't shut up about it."

"I reckon H is going to be the dux.  I just don't think A or I will."

I know I've been part of conversations about pretty much everybody in our entire grade.  You probably have too.  We just can't stop.  We're always talking about each other, having "D&Ms".  I guess everyone thinks something of each person, and everyone must share their opinion at one stage.  Other people is an entertaining and sensitive topic, the only thing more sensitive to talk about being yourself, which we tend to avoid altogether when discussing who's the "smartest" or the "prettiest".

Sure, you have conversations about everything else under the sun, and what you say isn't necessarily mean, but sometimes I feel as if with different people all I talk about is... well.. different people.


But just wonder for a second, what are other people saying about you?  You must be mentioned in some of these "D&Ms" or casual conversations that you aren't part of.  Today we had a brief chat about this and we all basically asked, "Has anyone said anything about me?"  It's a daunting question that we all want the answer to, but are scared that we won't want at the same time.  The response was, "Oh yeah.  Someone said something about you, M.  I can't remember who but she said, 'I swear M hates me.'" 

Wait, I'm sorry, who do I hate?  I wasn't aware I hated anyone at the moment.  That's the thing.  Simple comments like these rile us up and immediately make us wonder, who?  And why?  Is my unease at talking to certain people, my shyness, making them think I dislike them?  Or is it that I actually dislike them?  Is it the girl I don't talk to as much in band?  The girl I seem to forget to say hi to?  Who!?  And why do I care?

And a small part of me wonders, am I important enough to actually have people discussing whether I like them or not...


But another thing is, even though we're discussing each other, a lot of the time we don't even give our real opinions.  We make one up for the sake of fitting in to the conversation.  Our perception on a person we don't even know very well can change simply from what we hear.  It's gossiping.  And it works.  Rumours are convincing.  There's always some truth to them, no matter how stupid you think they are.  They come from first hand accounts.  They came from somewhere.


Then, no matter what our opinion is, to their face we act differently.  It's not two faced.  It's simply a tactic to avoid conflict and havoc.  If we knew what everyone thought of us, the entire school would be at war.  She hates her?  Well they sit together in class and seem to be the best of friends.  She doesn't actually model?  Well you seem to be a very supportive listener when she talks about it.


We're all part of the same community, so we're all going to have an opinion on each other, and we're all going to act differently around each other.  And I think that's a good part of life and human behaviour.  I could give my opinion on every single person I know of, but I would never have the full story on any one person. I don't know them well enough.  I can't read their mind.  My opinion isn't the truth.  It's just my opinion.  That's all.  And the same goes for theirs' and anyone else's thoughts on any given person.

One of the facts thrown into our little chat today was that out of the 7 billion people on earth (I think there's actually 8 now but oh well) 2 billion won't like you.  That's 2 in 7 people.  And we're just going to have to deal with it.


Encounters and relationships with any given person are very important, no matter how distant they are, whether they're an acquaintance or someone you love.  Talk about people.  Think about people.  There's nothing wrong with discussing others.  Just remember to be honest or nice.  And remember that they may very well someday hear what you think.  And remember that opinions are different from the truth.  And remember that what other people talk about is none of your business.

Love,
M

Sunday, 1 March 2015

Guest Post - A Night Full of Riots

I'd just like to give a big welcome to Stella who is an absolutely amazing writer, so I suggest you go check out her blog.  This post you're about to read, written specially by her, is an intriguing way to look at yourself and people in general.  I love the analogy, I love the way she writes it, and I love the lesson this post teaches us.  So, have a read...
 


Hi I’m Stella and I blog over at A Night Full Of Riots. The amazing M has allowed me to share a post with you guys/girls/unicorns/human beings and here it is, I hope you enjoy:

We are canvases
I am a canvas of words,
And colours,
And pictures,
And memories,
My canvas is cluttered,
And tainted with thoughts
That I can not rub off.

The world is a gallery and upon the walls we hang, canvases in all our colourful glory. Every glide and dab and swirl and stroke on that canvas belongs solely to you. Every splatter, flick, phrase, photo, colour, sketch and doodle is yours.

We are canvases, coloured and cluttered. We are often more than what you see on the outside.

You see it's easy to change yourself. Society's expectations and peer pressure make it easy for you to think you have to look or act or be a certain way. And sometimes people do change. I've had friends who have changed because they wanted to be apart of something more. Something they perceived as being better than who they really were, but beneath the thick film of conformism still lies their canvas. It hasn't changed. because your canvas isn’t a representation on your physical appearance, it’s a reflection of the inner you.

So what makes you different? What separates your canvas from all the others? I think it’s your memories. The way you smile, laugh, frown, love, hate, accept, acknowledge, speak, preach, believe, disagree, understand, listen, learn, feel, see, care and hurt. It's everything you are and everything you do. The person you truly are inside. That’s what makes you different.

I have been fortunate enough to encounter so many different people. People who make their quirks and differences known to the world. They smile and laugh in awkward moment. Dance in random situations. Aren’t afraid to share their thoughts.  Run through corridors screaming “freedom!” Reads a book during a movie. Eat ice cream in the winter. Write songs about unicorns. Say stupid things to make people laugh. Accept others and understand that it’s ok to be different.

And so I guess what I'm trying to say is, you dictate who you are and although it sounds so cliché, it's the person you are on the inside that truly matters. Your canvas.

So once again a big thank you to M for letting me guest post on the wonderful blog of hers. And if you’d like you can pop over to my blog to read some of my other posts.

Stella


That's right.  Pop over to her blog right now!!
A Night Full of Riots
A Night Full of Riots
A Night Full of Riots

Thank you so much for writing this amazing guest post Stella.

Love,
M