What is there in Marriage???

I got a lot of things to talk about actually. Different things. And i don't know which one should i tell first or how should i start telling the whole thing without babbling too much on other less important matters.

Oh well, there i go again :)

But let start things with this latest issue that happened recently.

My third friend is getting married; the friend where we used to hang out together during recess at school, the friend where i sit together with each time 'religion lesson' comes up in the schedule, the friend we hang out at the library with, two of my highschool friends i know, are married.

Damn, i feel old.

Which then made me wonder... How i really appreciate single life (for now)

I mean, look at them. They're still young and there they go ending their care-free life by carrying a heavy responsibility on their shoulder? aren't they afraid? Well I do at least. I don't think i'm ready and might never will. I am afraid of the responsibilities of marriage because marriage isn't a temporary play-time-thing like when how we played 'kahwin-kahwin' during our childhood, and just call it a day and return to our parents once we've finished playing wife or husband, or got bored of it, no. Marriage is REAL, and the responsibilities of caring for our other half once we are entitled to the oath and vows, is no game. The key to heaven, NOR hell, lies in how well we drive our marriage.

And how WELL we care for our husband (as for women)

If you're asking me, i'm a terrible girlfriend myself, a terrible daughter and terrible cat-owner, let alone getting myself to be someone's wife; i'm gonna be a TERRIBLE wife, and that will book me a ticket straight to hell. I'm not ready yet for that.

I'm not ready to face the arguments that will come after marriage, i am not ready to actually carry the duties of a wife, and i am certainly not ready yet to let go of my freedom (of being able to flirt with guys without any commitment whatsoever).

And then i wonder... Are they?

They let their freedom go so early, to commit and be a 'slave' to a man for their eternity (if given a chance that they have married the wrong kind of guy), and if they did married the wrong guy, there is no turning back and you're stuck with him for the rest of your life. Why did they destroy and let go of what they have now to risk themselves into that kind of world? to sink themselves to that kind of problems? i mean, why too early?

Aren't they afraid of making the wrong choice? aren't they afraid of the responsibilities they will be facing? are they that confident in carrying out that kind of duty?

Marriage isn't just about legalizing sex. It's a ticket to a much larger problem. A BIGGER problem, and that will add once they get a few babies on the way.

The arguments, the conflicts, the chance of your husband cheating on you just because he can, the responsibilities of a wife, the doing-house-chores-and-be-ur-husband's-slave-when-he-gets-back-from-work, the taking-care-of-babies-that-your-husband-won't-help-you-with, worrying about money to raise the kids, to set food on the table, for the kid's clothes, education, the ego-wars, the ARGUMENTS, the endless nights of crying, the feeling of being forced to stay loyal to a man you might lose your interest with after passing years, the feeling of betrayal, the tears, the pain of giving birth, the pain when your husband ignores you when you need someone most, the pain of not being able to find or be with another guy that could actually really make you happy without being labelled heavily sinned and unforgivable...

And the list goes on and on and on...

I can list down a thousand more fears of marriage if you really want me to. The reasons above are just small part of it.

And hell yeah, i'm NOT ready to marry to face even one of the above.

And i wonder WHY my friend were, and were not afraid nor having the slightest doubt in their minds and hearts for letting go of their freedom... Just to be a 'slave' to a man who might stop appreciating them and find a new girl after a few years.

I just can't make out any sense out of their actions.

Love? PFFFFTTTT~ love won't even reason you with HALF of the problems you will be facing afterwards, my friends. Love, easy come and easy go. THAT is love. and LOVE is certainly not a good reason for me to believe that you're gonna give up your whole life to enslave yourself to the man who might will only make u suffer.

Why? Because too me, love is a very stupid reason to risk yourself for a doomed eternity. Eternal is a LONG time. To me, you, your freedom and your life now is far too valuable to deserve such torment caused by marriage. Sure you'll get married soon anyways. But for sure, it shouldn't be THAT young. They are wasting their youth to face an early torment. And to me that is such a stupid thing to do, even stupider if their reason was 'love'.

I just don't understand them.

Oh well. I just hope things will work out for them; which i believe it won't.

p/s: i'm sorry, i'm just sharing my honest opinion.

The History of a Dead Corpse Called 'Passion'.

Just now i was reading my old script series i wrote during secondary school.

In case if you were wondering what script i was talking about, let me enlighten you a bit on that. During my childhood years, i had this dream of a good story. I woke up and started writing the story line of that particular dream in script writing. After that i figured. "Hey, why not elaborate the story a bit and make it like a story? i mean,

the dream was good but it only went halfway. I might as well put a good ending to it."

And so i continued writing the whole story, creating a plot and all sorts of nonsense in my school's exercise book. I wrote all those things spontaneously. I didn't really planned the whole plot, i just go on writing whatever crap i wanna write in the story. After that, i read them to my sisters like a bedtime story and they loved it. I loved the attention and i loved it when my crap story actually had 'fans' although they were only my sisters. And so instead of leaving the ending to just that, i continued the series and keep on writing and writing and writing and writing and writing.... Motivated by the eagerness of my sisters' curiosity of wanting to know what happen next in the story. And then i started to become addicted to write to the level where i wrote the

script story EVERY FREE TIME i could find, and even continuously writing the story when i was supposed to be paying attention to other much more important matters (such as school).

I started writing when i was about 10 years old, or 11, i think. I wrote the first series called 'Team Knight Rider' from the tv drama i watched. It was about a team of some sort of secret organisation where they have talking cars as their partners for missions. I fell in love with the story, i dreamed a good intro and continue to write in scripts (and using ENGLISH, not malay) using my school exercise books untill it reached over 30 books. Then we moved to a new home and i don't know where those book series have gone to. <:( i really would love to read them back.

When i was around 11 or 12 (i think), i fell in love with 'Harry Potter & the Sorcerer's Stone' movie. Again, i dreamed a good intro. But this time i didn't write them down just yet. I told my sisters about the dream, then i continued the story each night verbally, not by writing. It's like telling my sisters a good bedtime story by verbal and not reading them from a book. But then i found out it's way more difficult to keep track of my story if i do it verbally. So i continued the part of the story where i stopped with my sisters, and started writing them in scripts like how i did with my previous story. Again, I got so addicted of writing them to the point where i can hardly eat, drink or stop. All i could ever think of was to write, write, and write more (and i've reached 31 exercise books, the THICK and THIN ones combined together).

I never experienced any writer's block back then and come to think of it, how the hell did i manage to come up with such good plots for the series without proper planning? i did them all spontaneously for heaven's sake! and i was just 13 back then. O_o

When i was 14, i realized that i can never have the chance to publish my scripts that i've spent my precious times writing. Why? because Harry Potter is someone else's character. It has a copyright of it's own. I can get sued if i publish them. So i started to plan a new story, and began to create my own character, with the help and inspiration from 'a few people'. I began to actually PLAN the plot instead of writing spontaneous craps like how i did back then.

And the addiction came back to me like being washed by the cool and harsh waves of the ocean. I was engulfed by the addiction of writing and the attention from my sisters that i continued on writing every free time i could find at school and home until i was known well to my classmates and close friends as 'Harry Potter' and the kid who write scripts. When i started the new story at 15 years old, i began to do proper planning for the plots and all, but still inserting spontaneous jokes and scenes here and there everytime some crazy random idea crossed my mind. I continued this addiction of mine until i reached 17, and then i had to stop half-way due to the need of focusing for SPM.

I promised myself i will continue to write the story after SPM, but what happen was that after i left the addiction for a few months, i started experiencing lost of interest in writing the scripts, and the addition of writer's block. My sisters' interest in listening to my story too started to fade due to the long-term of no story-telling bedtime st

ories from me, in addition of growing mature over time (as they have turned into teenagers and no longer feel interested with foolish bedtime stories =_=).

Hence, the plot and the script writing of the particular story was done half-way since i was 17, until today when i am already 22. The addiction of writing was forgotten ever since.

And now we are back to the main topic of the post today. Just now, i've just finished reading the old scripts i wrote back when i was in secondary school. Yes, the whole series i've done. After i read them all, my emotions was stirred into a mixture of being impressed with my own masterpiece as well as hatred.

Now when i'm 22 and reading back the addiction i had when i was a teen, I became impressed with my old self. I was impressed with my own ability to actually write these scripts. I was impressed and puzzled with how i could come up with such humorous as well as breath-taking plots i created myself. I got so preoccupied with the scripts i wrote myself that i even laughed like hell and could't get my hands off the books reading the funny as well as suspense scenes i don't remember writing. It was like i was reading series of script-writing story/plot which was written by another whole different person; not me; not the one who is laughing reading the story at that time. After reading them, I was also impressed by the effort and obsession i had which enabled the old me to actually write THESE scripts.

Which then made me wonder...

Where have all those addiction gone to? Where was the old me who was so engulfed by so many ideas? Where have all my creativity and addiction of writing gone to? Why can't i write well like how i did in the past? Why can't i think of any random craps to write in the exercise book anymore? Why do i feel fearful and too careful to plan and continue to write the stuff i left years ago? Why can't i be the same person i was 5 years ago? Why can't i write anymore?

Where have all my passion in writing disappeared to?

And that is when the hatred came to me; hating myself for stopping the series just to focus on my SPM; which came out a bunch of crap anyways. Just because i wanted to focus on SPM, i've accidentally killed my passion and addiction in writing. Just because of the stupid SPM which i never manage to scored anyway, i've lost my only one aspiration and passion i had which've kept me going and alive all these while.

Back then, i was so passionate to write, so full of interest, ideas, creativity, motivation, obsession, passion and addiction to write that i don't give a damn about my homeworks, teachers, friends, and all those other crap i faced. I was too preoccupied with my own passion that i don't give much damn to problems around me.

Back then, I was happy and i had a purpose in life; to become a writer/script-writer one day, to have my own novel/drama, to see my characters i create to come to life.

But now? Where are they now? Where is my purpose in life? Where is my one aspiration i had and held on to? All gone because of a stupid need to focus for SPM.

Because of SPM, i've forgotten the intense addiction towards the satisfaction of writing down the ideas which came pouring like a waterfall. I've forgotten how it feels like to hold a pen and start writing on a piece of paper, leaving me no real world, intoxicating me with the ecstasy of creativity and my own imaginary world i wrote down in scripts.

I tried to regain my passion. I tried to write back again, but i don't understand why i failed to do just that. I feel much more insecure now, i feel scared and too cautious to write because of the fear of writing the wrong idea, the wrong plot.

Back then, i had a good sense of humour that even i laughed at my own jokes in the scenes myself. But now, i can't even start writing the first word to continue the story from where i left it.

I feel myself 'aging', losing the creativity, purpose and passion i once had in me. I can't help myself from drowning my eye surface with watery tears recalling this.

I envied my friend who still have her passion and creativity in drawing. She started during her teenage years and she has become a lot better now, even more skillful. But the passion of writing in me had just... Died.

And i tried so hard, so desperate to revive that long-lost passion but i can't. I failed.

Reading those stories i wrote, made me missed the lame old me so much; the old me who doesn't give a care in the world about silly problems in life and only focused on her one true purpose which have kept her alive, sane and most of all; satisfied.

5 years ago, I once was 'alive'. I was satisfied enough by just writing. 5 years ago, i had a dream, i had a purpose, i had a goal which kept me 'alive'.

But now... As my sister said, "Life happened."

Now, i'm no different than the adult zombies who seek nothing but any jobs that pays for his/her living. I don't have that spark in me anymore. There are no such things as passion and dreams and goals anymore; just the strive and need to find money to pay for one to stay alive.

Like a zombie.

I missed me.

I missed 'them'.

I want them back. So, so, so much. But i don't know how anymore.

Summary of Trip

Just got back from the trip to Kuantan with her.

And i still can't believe i have traveled halfway across semenanjung malaysia without my family.

I don't know why i didn't feel like a stranger to the place at all although it was my first time being there, and it only took her about 2 days to get me around her hometown, but i already felt like i've known that place for years, thanks to her :)

And i loved her parents. They treated me so nice and gave me a warm welcome that i don't feel awkward staying there at all. After all the things i heard about her dad, i was kinda surprised when i found out how well he treated me and her daughter with my own eyes.

And after all those things i heard about her mother, i was surprised to see how kind she was to me.

After seeing her parents myself, it's just so hard for me to believe the bad things i heard about them really did happened, because to me it seemed impossible. How can i? They are both such nice old married couple who loves their daughter and the whole three family member were able to mix so well, even better than how i mix with my parents.

I never laughed sincerely and tell my dad stuff like how she did with hers. I never share anything with my dad. I never let him barge in my personal life and he never bothered to anyway. I never share any info on anything worth telling to him like how i did to my mom. To me he is just an image of authority in the house that does his own things and manage his own life alone. I never mix or socialize so well with him like how she did with her dad.

Which amazed me in a way after recalling how much she despised her own father in the past (if i am not mistaken from what i heard). I was impressed with how well she mixed with her parents and how much love she showed to them despite of them hurting her so bad.

I was so impressed because i know deep down i never and will never have that kind of value in me like her. I will never able to mix well with my dad no matter how hard he will try. I don't know why but i just can't.

Yes, ego plays a role in this too.

And throughout the whole time when she drove me all around her hometown, apart from feeling excited and impressed, i felt something else as well.

Something else building inside me.

That 'terkilan' feeling.

Because to me, it should have been him who was there with her. He would have made her so happy if it was him who was with her instead of me. I felt like i was only filling a blank/gap between them tho i really felt so, so, so satisfied and happy to have actually been to her place to the point where i can already memorize the streets of Kuantan within only 2 days.

Then again, it just can't happen that way.

I am reaching closer to the border which defines the degree of one's sanity.

How i wish he makes this so much easier for me. Why can't you just make me lose my mind already. <:(

I appreciate & love her as a best friend, but i know i can never, ever replace 'him' and gave her the happiness he gave her in the past. I know it just won't be the same.

We want you back, I want you back. So, so, so bad that i felt i'm almost losing my mind by denying what i should be doing <:'(

Misunderstanding.

Misunderstanding ?

Girl: Do i ever cross ur mind?
Boy: No

Girl: Do you like me?
Boy: Not really

Girl: Do you want me?
Boy: No

Girl: Would you cry if I left?
Boy: No

Girl: Would you live for me?
Boy: No

Girl: Would you do anything for me?
Boy: No

Girl: Choose--me or ur life
Boy: my life

The girl runs away in shock and pain and the boy runs after her and says...

The reason you never cross my mind is because you're always on my mind.
The reason why I don't like you is because I love you.
The reason I don't want you is because I need you.
The reason I wouldn't cry if you left is because I would die if you left.
The reason I wouldn't live for you is because I would die for you.
The reason why I'm not willing to do anything for you is because I would do everything for you.
The reason I chose my life is because you ARE my life.