social obligation

All posts tagged social obligation

this is

Published November 2, 2010 by crystalights’s song in my head when i woke up


there’s people talking

they talk about me

they know my name

they think they know everything

but they don’t know


about me


i didn’t really imagine that i would actually tell him what i was about.

in the car.

in that damn wrecked-up car.

because we supposedly have a very spartan relation (?)


so i told him that i didn’t do all those things that youngsters do because i don’t want people to find me and cling to me.

*puking sounds*

’nuff said.


i know i’m not really normal in all those sense of the word.

but it didn’t really bother me (?)

but because he finds it strange and because being in such hour-long journey in an oddly coloured car with him brings up such random spew of words;

i thought that i’ll jst have to say something so that he doesn’t fall asleep on the wheels.

(it’s my ass on the line anyway).

my sister’s probably gonna diss me like hell for this.


it’s not like she can get away with it too if it was her.

(yeah, right. keep deluding yourself when everyone gets away with that scott-free).

so i told him what i was.

(trying to do. or not do, for that matter).


it was awkward and disgusting.


basically, it just shows that i am a self-centred unattached bitch who doesn’t want anyone hanging around because i am too selfish to give people what they need.


try telling that to someone so spartan with you.

it felt soo ridiculously unreal.


i try to make it happen

try to make it allright

i know i make mistakes

i’m living life day to day

it’s never really easy

but it’s okay


maybe i can’t really make people understand

or maybe i just don’t try


maybe it’s weird that i wanna skip my graduation day (and its rehearsals).

to me, if i have already finished my studies,

then it means i have already finished my studies;

regardless of whether or not i show up for my convocation day,

as long as i finished, i don’t necessarily have to be there, right?

the convocation day doesn’t prove that i finished my studies.

the final exam results does.

the letter of confirmation does.

not the highly esteemed graduation day.

is that so hard to comprehend?

do we need to attend a ceremony to reinstate the state of a completion?


at this rate if i go it’ll probably be only because of my parents’ (coercion).


i don’t really get why but i’m guessing he finds my way of life (with other people) a bit off

so i say that i can’t really pitch out my trust (been there, done that, and i’m soo through with such wasteful sentiments)

because if anyone wants to pitchfork your heart to shreds it wouldn’t matter whether or not you’ve been an angel to them


you just do what you do best and try your best not to care

people all around you

everywhere that you go

people all around you,

they don’t really know you


everybody’s watching

like it’s some kind of show,

everybody’s watching

they don’t really know you now

(and forever)


and that’s why i hate coming out of my shell


a simple ball game gets awkward

because it gets to me now

when i don’t care


(but if i don’t care then why does it get me all awkward)


it’s strange

but i don’t want to change


for now we’ll just see

how this will turn out to be.


(or is it just me always having the chance to run away but suddenly denied of the very thing that i was used to?)

maybe i wished that every little goodbyes were the last ones


a very long day.

Published October 23, 2010 by crystalights


so i went for the medical checkup this morning.

and they were trying to draw blood from my arm.

my veins weren’t visible

so it was like “we’ll just try this first” sort of uncertain kind of needle-poking.

so the 1st doctor extracted blood on my left arm

it wasn’t enough so

the 2nd doctor did it on the right arm.

of course. i was screaming by then. with both doctors holding onto both arms.

it hurts like hell.

(my arms are bruised by now. i think there was something wrong with the needle insertion on the left arm).

i was screaming for my mom (but she’ know. my mom).



i thought the urine test was the most challenging (because i already went to the toilet before coming there)


the awkward part was probably the x-ray.

(holy cow- the attendant’s instructions blasted through the speakers from the control room! there’s even a little window to see my position from where she was).

even my x-ray film looks weird (i think my heart looks kinda small).


my mom says the doctor treats studying patients differently.

like students get better treatment.

(she even asked me if i was married and advised me to have a plan (?) of doing so because it ain’t easy to be alone when you’re all wrinkly. haha).

she says she’s seen those studying lots who stayed single (?)

idek. but i don’t have to think about that now. right?



i’m tired. i said i wanna stop filling those forms for a bit because my back was already hurting (it has been like two days with all those forms) and then i heard him hiss-

like: “yeah i knew you just wouldn’t get it all done A.S.A.P, wouldn’t you?”

and so i just walked away.



i love my back. why should i sacrifice it just to make you shut up?



Published October 12, 2010 by crystalights


i think that gambling is hurtful because

you can never really get over your loss

and at the same time

letting go of the possibility of winning kills you.


i’m not sure what happened, but i was surprised at that particular news (because he doesn’t seem like that kind of a person).

i hope it’s not true.

if someone proves that it isn’t, then i’d most probably believe it.


of roles and duties. and life and living.

Published September 21, 2010 by crystalights


my father has a certain way of doing things that he expects people to follow.

most of the time, i just go along with it.

but sometimes,

some very rare times,

i can’t.



i can’t really deliver what is expected of me.


he believes in back up plans

in raking in more than you need (even when you only need one and will only choose one in the end)

he likes more than one option

more than one solution

more than just average grades

more than just a couple of distinctions


perhaps to him, more is more is the absolute must.


if i can’t deliver his expectations at one point

then somehow i’ll end up somewhere where i have to somehow do it

there is no long-term escape

just options and more pathways for me to fulfill what he seeks


sometimes i just do whatever is requested of me

even when it makes me look or feel crazy

as long as it’s physically / intellectually feasible

i just do it.

i just live with it.


but sometimes i believe in different things

like losing money but gaining time.

if i get time. then why does money matter?

if i get knowledge / information, should money matter?


like what happened today.

i want to just get my pics from any random photostudio shop, i don’t really care.

it’s just a photo for my application form. (tomorrow’s the deadline).

but he wants to take the time to print it at home,

choose the right settings, the right size,

cutting it down in his own manner

and then using his own adhesive for sticking it on

and his own method of ensuring its quality.

everything is his own

perfection right down to the details.


(and now i’m not so sure if i won’t miss the deadline in the next 24 hours).



imagine these ideals of his applied to everything else.


i was sent to several different schools throughout my entire primary and secondary years,

and some of the schools are not even a district apart.

just because he thinks one is better than the other

(but well, most of the time..i hate to say that he’s right).

i was very unwilling at that point.. only to be sent somewhere else and then at the end of it was him proving to me of how precise his decision was.


i was in highschool back then

when he was in the car with my mum and the kids, waiting for the whole of my 1 hour chemistry class to finish every wednesday of the week (because it takes a half hour to get there and another half hour to get back. so he just sends me and waits there until i finish for about an hour later).

and then he sends me for my 3 hour biology class every friday and some other day of the week

and my add maths classes

and physics classes.

they’re all extra classes per week. he chose the teachers. and the schools they come from.


hand picked.




so this is how i live.

it’s not easy, but at least it’s a way of living.


it wasn’t that wonderful for me.

but somehow he works things out.


and i grew up thinking that every man out there has to at least have the capabilities of this man

who isn’t all that amazing but a capable, able man afterall.


i needed someone whom i can respect. in one way or another.

someone who wasn’t easily defeated.


we don’t necessarily have to like each other

but we have to live our roles

and fulfill our responsibilities

to live for the purpose of which we are created

to be what we must be

what we should be.


sometimes you can’t have everything

there is always something that you have to lose in order for something else to be gained

but if it is your duty is there any excuse for you to just let go?

i guess i believe in that too much.


i believe that if everyone lives up to their roles and duties and responsibilities than this world would have been a better place

because no one would be squished aside for the sake of another person’s self importance.


rambut fake.

Published September 3, 2010 by crystalights


tapi stahu aku la kan kiter tak boleh pakai rambut palsu.


lagi-lagi kalau kiter mengiklan kan rambut palsu tu sendiri.


that is what i honestly feel la.

i don’t know what everybody else feels about it.

but i think something that is wrong couldn’t be right even if the person doing it looks like the right one.


i don’t know.

tapi alangkah tak best when you close your eyes and pretend to not see it because this is someone you like with all your heart.



Published August 29, 2010 by crystalights


my mum talks about her plants as if they are real people, real humans with needs.

she speaks in a guilty tone of how she feels sorry for them whenever some of them dries up, wilts, or turns yellow.

she remembers what they need and somehow they bloom faster in her hands.

she speaks of her plants so respectfully in such a good-natured way that sometimes even real humans aren’t as respectable as them.


my youngest brother treats anything art-related very passionately.

he’s into sewing multi-coloured beads onto old clothes now.

today he wore that shirt with those beads that he sewed.


my father treats anything art-related dispassionately.

he looks upon my youngest brother’s bead-sewing with a frown in such a disdainful way-

just like that time when i was younger with lots of As for my art and drawings but Bs for my maths.

i think it’s the same frown now, with extra wrinkles.

only at that time during my younger days it wasn’t just a frown.

it was a statement.

i like looking at my mum’s plants, but i don’t like looking after them.


i like my youngest brother’s enthusiasm in arts.


i’d like to think that my father hasn’t aged more than he should since my younger days.


i still have a secret love of arts even when i onced abandoned them for better math grades when i was younger.


i write what i feel.

if i don’t then i’ll feel bad for not telling it as it is.

there is no “spicing things up” as far as i know.

because i don’t know how to “spice things up” without feeling like a phony.

you know, like a liar,

a pretender.


because i live, i then write.

i don’t write to “officiate” my life.

i just live. and then i just write.


brown sugar cookies and a heart on my sleeve

Published June 18, 2010 by crystalights


a few things were happening

all at the same time

and some went out of hand

so i wasn’t feeling quite right


so i tried working in the kitchen again


today i made my first batch of cookies






(my lil’ brother ate them with some tea-dipping)




so there’s my first sugar cookies.


you know

sometimes i wished that it’s enough for me to just

listen without speaking

be here without breaking

understand without showing

but to feel enough to keep staying


i wished i was enough

apparently it’s not enough to just be.

you still have to do something

to make something out of things

so that people feel like they’re in

inside your life somewhere


my cookies aren’t perfect

but i made them with my own hands

my own version of the usual cookie recipe

my own personal touch


they’re not perfect

but they’re my own


why can’t they be enough?

why can’t i be enough?



do i have to lay out my heart on the table

to prove that i actually feel