7: Relationship (written 15 August 2015)

7: Relationship (written 15 August 2015)

You see it everywhere. It’s so real yet so fabricated. It’s all in the mind, the idea of a relationship and the idea of being in a relationship. But you speak as a salty human who can’t get a relationship of her own because she is, well, frankly, quite undesirable. But you kept thinking about it, this concept of a relationship, how fabricated and real it is. How could something like a broken relationship break someone? The concept is foreign to you; you haven’t been in a real relationship before. And that’s okay, you guess, because who really needs a man when you’re so far deep and entrenched in your academic life that, where you can only think of working hard and achieving your greatest academically…what a lie, because at night, your academic life can’t touch you. You’re immersed in the culture of relationships, love, courtship…you can only think of him and him only, kisses, hugs, bodily contact, intellectual but romantic conversations, it’s scary. Why does it have to be like this? Unrequited love, that’s so real yet so fabricated too…why does it have to be this way? You can’t say you love him. Love is not real. This is not real. And you are not real.

~ Serendipitous

P.S. Real or not real?


6: Melancholia (written 11 August 2015)

6: Melancholia (written 11 August 2015)

This is the song that will be playing, either in your head or through your earphones, when you see him. You can see yourself looking at him. Past your ugly glasses is the shine of sadness and utter melancholia in your dark chocolate eyes, the expression on your face reflects pain and unrequited love. It breaks your heart to know that that will be the expression on your face and the stars in your eyes when you see him today, and yet, you’ll know he will probably not see this, the pain reflected in your face, he will not understand, even if you think you’re not exactly an open book…but in the end, does it even matter? Yes, you guess it does matter, yes…his opinion matters and you want to hear it, always. What does he even think about this book, this book of feelings, his book of melancholia, hoping you’d find good novel ideas?

Yes, very many good novel ideas, but in the end it’s really all from the heart and all from what you’re feeling and even though some things are fictitious, well the feelings behind all of it, behind all the words and the cursive handwriting, the feelings are so real.

~ Serendipitous

P.S. Real or not real?

5: Deep thoughts 2 (refinement of the original)

5: Deep thoughts 2 (refinement of the original)

For someone so invested in her academic life and for someone so cheerful around people, it’s hard to believe that your favourite word is melancholia and that your darkest fear is marrying someone who loves you, whose love you cannot reciprocate. You’re afraid of something deeper than that, though. You’re afraid of the worst, but what can be the worst? The fact that you have feelings for two, or the fact that…well. Whatever it is, you haven’t seen it yet. You haven’t had your life spiral downwards just yet. You’re not ready to give up your academic life for just a mere boy. You can give up small things like the ability to love – wait. You think that the ability to love is a small thing? Of course, you’re cynical. Sometimes you forget how cynical you are of love. You’ve been hurt by those you’ve supposedly loved before and so naturally you would believe that it could never happen for you. You see it all the time around you. You see the held hands, the kisses, the passion and of course, you turn away (in disgust). These are beautiful things humans enjoy, the ability to love and to be loved, but you wouldn’t be familiar with the sensation. No, the only things you’re familiar with is the burning of soon to come tears that line the edges of your eyelids after a rejection, a loss, a moment you could only hope could happen in your wildest dreams after you see it. In the end, you’re afraid. You’re afraid that one day someone is going to love you because when that happens, you won’t know what to do. You have known pain, but not real love. Actually, you’re probably not supposed to know what love is like. You know you’ve read too many books. So why all this?

Probably part of teenage angst. That’s probably the only reason for it. This is what comes with being sixteen. And at seventeen too probably. You’re thinking way too deeply. As he would say, you’re overthinking it. But to be real, what haven’t you overthought about? You love to overthink. And sometimes that turns into novel ideas, albeit not the best ones, but still they are legitimate novel ideas.



3: Deep thoughts

For someone who is so happy and lively and cheerful around groups of people bigger than 2 people, it’s hard to believe that your favourite word is melancholia.

They were right when they said the happiest people are, at the same time, the saddest people when they are alone. Melancholia is something you drown yourself in daily at night, alone in the dark with the moonlight filtering through the curtains of your open window. It is something you drown yourself in willingly, listening to the same set of songs every night when you know no one is watching you. No one knows you do this. Children’s parents always say the same things: they think they know their children, but they really don’t, and they were right. Mom and Dad knows best – they are right because you have a totally different personality when you are around them, and when you are by yourself. So what is your real personality?

You don’t know. You’re just a serendipitous writer. And here is your contribution to the interwebs of the 21st century, until you find another one.

~ Serendipitous

2: Aura

2: Aura

I’ve always been interested in breaking the system, or at the very least, manipulating the system for my own benefit. Today I’ve been able to do that, not as a writer, but as a pawn of the system. They say you’re not supposed to truant and I guess that’s right, but if you truant because everyone else is – not to prepare for formal but to do work… hahaha

I have decided not to go to the formal that some girls in our grade are hosting. Ceebs 🙂 but I can’t deny the aura that surrounds the girls that are going, especially my friends – I can’t help but involve myself with that aura because it’s simply irresistible, the excitement, the invigoration, the glamour, I like it. But I’m not going to be a part of it all tonight and to be frank, that’s fine with me. I can’t wait to see the photos of my friends.

On the other hand, breaking the system…sometimes it’s hard enough as it is to even consider it. After being restrained so long by the confines of the system that we all live in, I’ve already been conditioned to think that it’s bad to rebel against the system. Sigh. It’s hard to think about and typing about it without really giving it much thought makes it that much harder.

End thought

~ Serendipitous

1: 33rd half-birthday

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1: 33rd half-birthday

Today is my 33rd half-birthday, or, better worded, the day I am sixteen and a half. Somehow it took me this long to realise that all I wanted was to have a blog in a cosy corner of the interwebs to share my thoughts and my experiences. Somewhere a little voice says that it will last longer if it’s here. I keep a journal, too. The words in the journal will probably not last as long as the content in the interwebs…but I’m thinking incredibly long-term for someone who’s just sixteen and a half today.

I keep a journal, and sometimes what I’ve written down in my journal will be posted here. I generally write in second person, but in the end, it’s all me. Everything is all me. Sometimes. No names will be mentioned, not even my own. We are all characters of a story by an author we do not know.

It’s all stream of consciousness, too. Unfiltered, thoughts of mine which I happily share with you. I don’t know you, but feel free to get to know me through these posts. I’d be happy to share my life with you, even if it is through the cobwebs of the Internet, even if it’s through a transcription of the words I’ve scribbled down in my journal.

In the end, it’s really all me. I’m here and I’m ready to share everything I have. Well, almost everything.

~ Serendipitous