Have you ever woken up and been terribly, horribly, paralyzingly scared that the next time you wake up in 20 years or so, you'll be waking up to a life that just isn't what you imagined or hoped for it to be? All your hopes dashed. All your dreams shattered. All your plans falling through. All your days seeming gray and monotonous.
No? Just me?
Hmm.
-- Karin Novelia, Hoping This Will All Be Worth In The End.
The Degree of Damage Done
A friend of mine, upon seeing a kiddie ride, pointed out on how as kids we were so fascinated by things like Barney the Dinosaur. As we grew up those perceptions of ours changed. We began to see how ridiculously illogical those childhood figures were. And though there's something to be gained by that maturity of thought, there's also something that's inevitably lost; our sense of wonder and naivety towards what is, essentially, a pretty daunting world.
I've come to realize that I am generally a sad person. I wasn't always like this. I am particularly aware that there was a turning point in my life, that moment when I decided to do a complete 180 and grow up, perhaps a bit too fast. I can't exactly remember when. Like most inner paradigm shifts, I know that the change happened, I just wasn't fully aware that it was happening at the time.
Most of my life consisted of changes and me adapting to these changes. I got so used to coping with things on my own, so by the time my 'coming-of-age' moment happened, when my child-like innocence was shattered, I found myself horribly lost and alone. And unlike many instances (depicted many times over in movies, biographies, documentaries) where the 'protagonist' is guided by some mentor-like figure, I had no one to catch me, no one to fall back on.
As far as unstable goes, I'm pretty messed up. And I'm not trying to make myself sound like a victim. If anything, those lonesome struggles have taught me something important.
How fucked up a person is, isn't so much determined by all the bad things that happen to them. You're only as fucked up as you allow yourself to be and it's simply a matter of choice to how badly you let the the degree of damage become.
So yeah. This is me, trying to control the damage. This is me trying to experience the world with arms wide open -- like a little kid.
(That was a crappy conclusion. I'm sorry)
But thanks for reading.
-- Karin Novelia, Wanting to Go On Kiddie Rides Again
I've come to realize that I am generally a sad person. I wasn't always like this. I am particularly aware that there was a turning point in my life, that moment when I decided to do a complete 180 and grow up, perhaps a bit too fast. I can't exactly remember when. Like most inner paradigm shifts, I know that the change happened, I just wasn't fully aware that it was happening at the time.
Most of my life consisted of changes and me adapting to these changes. I got so used to coping with things on my own, so by the time my 'coming-of-age' moment happened, when my child-like innocence was shattered, I found myself horribly lost and alone. And unlike many instances (depicted many times over in movies, biographies, documentaries) where the 'protagonist' is guided by some mentor-like figure, I had no one to catch me, no one to fall back on.
As far as unstable goes, I'm pretty messed up. And I'm not trying to make myself sound like a victim. If anything, those lonesome struggles have taught me something important.
How fucked up a person is, isn't so much determined by all the bad things that happen to them. You're only as fucked up as you allow yourself to be and it's simply a matter of choice to how badly you let the the degree of damage become.
So yeah. This is me, trying to control the damage. This is me trying to experience the world with arms wide open -- like a little kid.
(That was a crappy conclusion. I'm sorry)
But thanks for reading.
-- Karin Novelia, Wanting to Go On Kiddie Rides Again
Life is a Funny Thing
When I say something is funny, I usually mean it in a sad, sarcastic way. Because sarcasm's the way I deal with things. And though a sharp tongue may not leave me with that many friends, you can't really fault me for being honest.
Life is also damn ironic. Anything pertaining to it, the questioning and the doubts, I usually share through this blog because well, nobody really cared to listen in real life. That's changed a bit though. Questioning life has become something of a daily routine (besides my daily affirmation of 'I'm a horrible person' but I'll get to that later) and it actually makes this blog a bit obselete.
I've found people who I can talk to, people who are willing to listen. And I've never been more grateful.
But, and perhaps this is a big one, we can't expect too much from anyone. We can't expect them to be always there for us, we can't expect them to always understand. The romantic in me would like to believe that, at least, there's one person among the 7 billion in the world who can always be there for me. You know, that person who's presumably *the one*. Even now, the appeal of that idea is dimming. It sucks, really. But it's true.
And in light of my recent stress (mid-years and all) I can't help but feel that something that's internally a part of me is changing drastically. And it's hell of a lot scary, to just watch this change happen, to know that the one thing you'd think would be constant in your life - your values, your beliefs and your dreams - are changing due not only circumstance, but possibly choice.
So yeah. There are some things I still can't fully say aloud, but then again I guess those are the things meant to be put on this blog. Here they are, a few things I find funny with (my) life:
1. It's funny when the moment you finally feel happy - genuinely, consistently happy - you just start expecting things to fall apart.
2. When so many bad things start happening, there's a point when it stops coming as a surprise, it stops to hurt and you kinda wanna laugh, cuz it's funny the way you're kinda 'used to it'.
3. It's really funny when you say something, thinking you're being subtle, thinking that the way you veil your words -- like reading aloud a poem -- would make someone understand only to end up hurting them. Then you realize, maybe that's really what you intended to do all along.
4. It's funny when, even though you've known someone for quite awhile, you suddenly *see* them as if you didn't properly see them for what they are. Something special.
5. There are those funny days when you wake up and think of someone. And the thought of that someone makes you realize, "Hey, I think I have feelings for you". Then you think, "This might get interesting". Then you think, "This will not end well".
6. It's a funny, almost surreal moment; that moment when you fall out of love with someone. Initially, you feel glad, relieved. "Glad I found a reason not to stick around for that trainwreck." And the next time you see the person, you feel fine. No expectations, no butterflies. Then, bam, you feel like you've lost something. You feel like you're missing out. You feel like you're giving up on something you never even gave the chance to happen.
7. It's funny - damn hilarious even - when you find yourself next to someone you think you've gotten all figured out only to realize (and to be even told by the person themself) you don't know that person at all. You're not as close as you'd imagine or want yourselves to be.
8. And it's really, really, really funny, the way you can be so comfortable around someone and the next moment wish they'd never even become part of your life. Because you want them around. Even though they make things complicated.
9. It's funny, in a dramatic irony sort of way, to see things that noone else apparently sees. To know things which are obviously there. To read people so easily. Because when things start happening, going exactly as you predicted they would, it becomes your own little inside joke. "See I was right, I saw this coming." But then you wish you were never right in the first place.
10. And it's tragically funny, the way you can put up such a strong front, a noble facade only to fall apart moments later. Moments like those are embarassing. It's as if you think no one will forget it, no one will look past it or see you the same way again. But then they do, and you wish they didn't. You wish you could stop pretending.
11. It's a funny moment in your life when you realize, even the person you're closest with the most will never be completely honest with you. Even when you try to open up and put your heart on the line (which, trust me, for me isn't easy) they turn to be the most unemotional person. Ever. And though the poison's in the well, you stick around anyway. Even though you wonder why you do, why you try so hard to have this person around. Even though you're also glad that your paths have somehow crossed.
12. Oh and here's the kicker, the ultimate punchline. It's funny when you know things aren't going to end well. When you know all you're going to get is hurt. But you don't back down, you don't turn around and run away, you don't try oh so very hard to just numb everything out.
You let things happen anyway. You let yourself get hurt.
Even though, most likely, you'll regret it, you undeniably know this one truth: despite the universe working against you, that small sliver of a chance at happiness is always worth taking.
Thanks for reading.
--Karin Novelia, Laughing at Life
Life is also damn ironic. Anything pertaining to it, the questioning and the doubts, I usually share through this blog because well, nobody really cared to listen in real life. That's changed a bit though. Questioning life has become something of a daily routine (besides my daily affirmation of 'I'm a horrible person' but I'll get to that later) and it actually makes this blog a bit obselete.
I've found people who I can talk to, people who are willing to listen. And I've never been more grateful.
But, and perhaps this is a big one, we can't expect too much from anyone. We can't expect them to be always there for us, we can't expect them to always understand. The romantic in me would like to believe that, at least, there's one person among the 7 billion in the world who can always be there for me. You know, that person who's presumably *the one*. Even now, the appeal of that idea is dimming. It sucks, really. But it's true.
And in light of my recent stress (mid-years and all) I can't help but feel that something that's internally a part of me is changing drastically. And it's hell of a lot scary, to just watch this change happen, to know that the one thing you'd think would be constant in your life - your values, your beliefs and your dreams - are changing due not only circumstance, but possibly choice.
So yeah. There are some things I still can't fully say aloud, but then again I guess those are the things meant to be put on this blog. Here they are, a few things I find funny with (my) life:
1. It's funny when the moment you finally feel happy - genuinely, consistently happy - you just start expecting things to fall apart.
2. When so many bad things start happening, there's a point when it stops coming as a surprise, it stops to hurt and you kinda wanna laugh, cuz it's funny the way you're kinda 'used to it'.
3. It's really funny when you say something, thinking you're being subtle, thinking that the way you veil your words -- like reading aloud a poem -- would make someone understand only to end up hurting them. Then you realize, maybe that's really what you intended to do all along.
4. It's funny when, even though you've known someone for quite awhile, you suddenly *see* them as if you didn't properly see them for what they are. Something special.
5. There are those funny days when you wake up and think of someone. And the thought of that someone makes you realize, "Hey, I think I have feelings for you". Then you think, "This might get interesting". Then you think, "This will not end well".
6. It's a funny, almost surreal moment; that moment when you fall out of love with someone. Initially, you feel glad, relieved. "Glad I found a reason not to stick around for that trainwreck." And the next time you see the person, you feel fine. No expectations, no butterflies. Then, bam, you feel like you've lost something. You feel like you're missing out. You feel like you're giving up on something you never even gave the chance to happen.
7. It's funny - damn hilarious even - when you find yourself next to someone you think you've gotten all figured out only to realize (and to be even told by the person themself) you don't know that person at all. You're not as close as you'd imagine or want yourselves to be.
8. And it's really, really, really funny, the way you can be so comfortable around someone and the next moment wish they'd never even become part of your life. Because you want them around. Even though they make things complicated.
9. It's funny, in a dramatic irony sort of way, to see things that noone else apparently sees. To know things which are obviously there. To read people so easily. Because when things start happening, going exactly as you predicted they would, it becomes your own little inside joke. "See I was right, I saw this coming." But then you wish you were never right in the first place.
10. And it's tragically funny, the way you can put up such a strong front, a noble facade only to fall apart moments later. Moments like those are embarassing. It's as if you think no one will forget it, no one will look past it or see you the same way again. But then they do, and you wish they didn't. You wish you could stop pretending.
11. It's a funny moment in your life when you realize, even the person you're closest with the most will never be completely honest with you. Even when you try to open up and put your heart on the line (which, trust me, for me isn't easy) they turn to be the most unemotional person. Ever. And though the poison's in the well, you stick around anyway. Even though you wonder why you do, why you try so hard to have this person around. Even though you're also glad that your paths have somehow crossed.
12. Oh and here's the kicker, the ultimate punchline. It's funny when you know things aren't going to end well. When you know all you're going to get is hurt. But you don't back down, you don't turn around and run away, you don't try oh so very hard to just numb everything out.
You let things happen anyway. You let yourself get hurt.
Even though, most likely, you'll regret it, you undeniably know this one truth: despite the universe working against you, that small sliver of a chance at happiness is always worth taking.
Thanks for reading.
--Karin Novelia, Laughing at Life