Moving On

I do realized that I have not posted any throwback pictures and it's almost the end of February. This whole post may sound like a bunch of excuses to not getting things done. Perhaps it is, in fact. Okay it is. I may come to realize the whole moral of the story to this, but for now I would just like to rant.

I realized that growing up and being an adult, other than having more 'freedom', is a lot like falling down from a bicycle and trying to get back up when you were a kid. Except it has the probability of happening like 10 times a day and you're forced to wipe your tears and get back up every single time, eventhough all you want to do is just cry and stop cycling once and for all. Because life is a race, and in order to finish it we'll have to keep going. Even when people fail to help you up; even when you fail yourself; even when people deliberately try to knock you down; even when your loved ones leave you.

You have to move on. You have to get up from your bed. You have to go back to your 9 to 5 (sometimes 7) job. You have to face people. You have to keep going despite the fresh open wounds and scars, even when you feel like you can't go any further.

I guess that's why it's important to have an ever-flowing strength that doesn't come from yourself. Something eternal to hold on to. Something that never fails.

Touched.

It's that feeling. The feeling of having your needs unexpectedly met. Having your life unexpectedly touched. I haven't had that in a while. I haven't done that to others in a while.

I want to write down just in case I forget it again.

The ones that are most impactful are those where the giver doesn't even realize the degree of the impact they have left behind. It is a genuine response to someone's needs, usually an unspoken one. It takes a fleeting moment of selfless-ness and freedom from self-consciousness, where all you can think about is how to best help someone in need, without even taking the time to consider what it might cost you, or how it would benefit you - you wouldn't even think about you. It would usually seem effortless to you, like responding in kindness to someone who is in a bad mood, not knowing that he/she have had a really bad day, and that kind response was all it took to make it feel better. 

All these thoughts came from a warm hug from my mother and an offer from my sister to teach me, while I was panicking in the midst of studying. They might not even remember what they have done... but I do.