Better Versions

Hey, hello, um, hi!

 

... Damn. I really am rusty with this thing.

 

It's been a good month or so since my last post, and that wasn't exactly a happy one either.

 

If I am being honest here, or at least as honest as I usually try to be on this blog, I fell into a bit of funk by the time I got back from the June holidays.

 

I was, for lack of a better term, depressed.

 

Now, I've had inklings of this feeling creep on me before and they were never this bad. They were fleeting, at best, only temporary.

 

But this time... this time was different.

 

It was the kind of depression that was stifling, crippling. It really inhibited my ability to fully function and emote. It was scary. Really scary. And in the midst of my lacking emotions, I found that in my struggles to actually feel something I was lashing out, holding on to the pettiest feeling of irritation and anger, simply because they were there, they were accessible, they were the easiest thing to hold on to.

 

Long story short, I was a bitch for quite a while. There was damage done, some of which is still apparent, but hopefully can be patched over. Sometimes, it seems like it's irreparable. I guess that's my own fault.

 

Good news, though, I'm getting better. One main reason I think lead to the depression getting so bad was my initial refusal to acknowledge it. Although I said it was crippling and limited my ability to function, I could still push on. Keep Calm and Carry On as the Brits say. It made me incredibly guilty to even think about calling what I felt 'depression' because I know that other people have it a lot worse, other people can barely get out bed, other people have better reasons to be depressed. What was I doing? All I was being was ungrateful.

 

This change however, when I came across an article on the Internet. It was entitled Walking Depression and it described exactly what I was feeling, and perhaps what I knew all along but found no justification to properly acknowledge.

 

Walking depression is the type of depression that most people might face at some point in there live. It's the kind of dissatisfaction that makes it just a little bit harder to get out of bed. But you get up anyway. It's the kind of sadness that makes your days a little less brighter. But you go on and study and work and be productive anyway. Being functional is all fine and dandy but what's the point if you feel so unhappy?

 

Disillusioned. That was a word I attributed a lot to this, um, phase. It was like I was pushed, head first, into an empty swimming pool called reality, one that called that I be practical and let myself die a bit inside to 'succeed'. I wasn't really functioning. I wasn't really living. I was... trudging. That was another word that seemed so apt. I was being a soldier, keeping my head down, shoulders hunched, carrying on with no complaints.

 

Thank God that's over with.

 

You might be asking, what changed then? Well, acknowledging that I was unhappy was a nice first step. It gave me this sense of clarity and determination to find some way to fix it. So I set aside my pride, put down my armor. I apologized to people who needed to know how sorry I was. I tried looking out for more silver linings. I stopped being so hard on myself and occasionally let myself feel. I realized that I've been blowing a lot of responsibilities off -- and though it was too late to fix that, it was never to late for redemption. I reminded myself of the things that I love and why I do things that people may not approve of just because they think that having different priorities somehow makes me less of a person than them. The end goal wasn't necessarily to feel happy -- just okay enough to see the point in everything again.

 

I've been a bit interested in matters of the mind, and if you take the more scientific approach, how the brain works. Psychology and psychiatry are apparently two entirely separate fields. A recent article my tuition teacher gave me was even on anxiety. I've just finished a book entitled Hector and the Search for Happiness which talked about well, happiness, the way we perceive and process it in our brains.

 

I tend to say that I'm just a messed-up, giant ball of neuroses and perhaps that's true. Though from what I read, I don't fit neatly into one category. I have the faults of both ends of the spectrum apparently. I even came across a Tumblr post which nicely describes it.

 

So yeah. I think I just really needed to get this off my chest.

 

But, please tune in very soon as I'll definitely be posting some more positive posts :)

 

Look out for my OBS post and my latest initiative, something like a Learning Journal (sounds lame, but give me some time to think of something catchy). I'm trying my hardest not to lose interest in studies, but studying never really appealed to me. Learning, however, does. And I find that most of the time, I'm digesting things but not really processing them and spitting out some thoughts. Hopefully this Learning Journal will help me not only to express myself but to keep my interest burning strong. It of course won't be limited to what I learn in school. It could be about anything really, from what I thought about a TV show, a movie to classical music, the arts like Vincent van Gogh. The works. Mind you, this Journal will basically be a puke space of creativity, so don't expect any coherence of thought that I don't really have time to do anyway.

 

I really think I'm in a good place now. OBS, which was this outdoor camping course, was uplifting (but more about that later) and strengthened my resolve to be someone people can look up to. I once said that every time I looked into the mirror, I didn't really like who I saw -- this Paper Girl who was flimsy, thin and fake.

 

That Girl's gone. Maybe not completely, but I'm getting there.

 

And now, when I look in the mirror, I see a sincere smile, a slight glint in my eyes. I see a better version of me.

 

Let's hope there's only more good things to come.

 

Thanks for reading!

 

--Karin Novelia, Feeling So Better After a Long Time

The Stories, They All Sound the Same (Off The Grid: Day 10)

My brain is seething. I'm bubbling with hundreds of new ideas. They just keep welling up.
 

Perhaps it's possible to control thoughts to a certain extent, but to stop thinking is asking too much. My head is teeming with beguiling notions, I'm not able to fix them before they're ousted by new thoughts. I can't keep them apart.
 

I'm rarely able to remember my thoughts. Before I manage to dwell on one of my inspirations, it generally melts into an even better idea, but this, too, is so fickle of character that I struggle to save it from the constant volcanic stream of new ideas...
 

I read the opening paragraphs of Jostein Gardner's The Ringmaster's Daughter and my mind instantly recalls the dozens of notebooks filled with half-baked ideas, the pages and pages of synopses, each unique and pertaining to a specific story, typed up on my laptop.

I throw a glance at my window, to make sure Jostein Gardner isn't somehow keeping an eye on me. I feel vulnerable, exposed. Like someone decided to write about me on paper.  I feel a strange relation to his character who as you can probably tell, is something of a writer.

Then I think of every other fictional aspiring writer I've seen/read and realize I'm probably just a mass of their quirks and idiosyncrasies. I'm a collection of writer stereotypes. Except maybe for that whole childhood trauma aspect...

This "writer" brought to life in The Ringmaster's Daughter is named Petter, and I do share his pain. Whenever I let my brain roam too far it just starts churning, spitting out ideas and stories. I can write out a synopsis fairly easy. My ideas usually start out being so abstract -- a random scene here, a piece of dialogue there. I can expand it, detail it, to as long as 4-5 pages, at best. When I try to expand it even further, that's when I fumble with the words.

I suppose I lack the focus to write a novel. Like Petter, I also lack patience and soundness of mind. Sitting still in front of a desk can be unnerving. More often then not it feels like a waste of time, it's frustrating and tedious. No sooner after I begin typing, my mind is racing farther ahead. My hands may be set on writing down one scene, yet my brain is already working on another.

There's one aspect where I Petter and I differ. I'm unshakeable on my becoming a writer, despite the difficulties. Petter however, doesn't see the point. He has no intention of becoming a writer. He finds it a shame though, when his ideas are left untouched. That's when he comes up with a strange business idea. He'll sell his ideas, make his living out of it. Sell ideas and stories to aspiring writers who find themselves with nothing to say.

Little Petter Spider becomes the cure for the dreaded writer's block, weaving his own web of manipulation.
 

At last I've decided what I want to be. I shall continue doing what I've always done, but from now on I'll make a living out of it. I don't feel the need to be famous, that's an important consideration, but I could still become extremely rich.
 

Petter starts out as a very precocious child. He learns to talk and read and write before the age of four. He's quiet and in his head. He's creative, definitely. But he is also pretty damaged.

When he starts to decide to sell his ideas, through this ominous platform he dubs "Writer's Aid", it's a dubious trade. Petter cherished anonimity above everything, and although what he's trying to sell is something that's in demand in the writing community, he knows there's a risk. A risk of getting caught, being mistrusted and hunted down.

He pays attention to make his clients feel exclusive to his services when they're not. He builds up their trust, makes them believe he'll never spill the beans. Little Petter Spider catches his victims within his web with promises not to eat them. All the while he thinks he's doing them -- and himself -- a great service.

And I strangely found myself agreeing with him. That what he's doing is almost justified.

It's interesting to see into Petter's psyche. Although he was quiet and unsociable as a child, he grew up to be quite the people person. He's amiable, able to carry a conversation. But at times he simply uses that to his advantage. Every writer, editor, friend is merely an expansion of his network. A business opportunity, or a casual relationship to make him feel less lonely when he wants company. Some might call him a sociopath.

The result of this casual approach to relationships leads him to trouble, as we find out in the final chapters of the book.

He has pretty eccentric views. Jostein Gardner is known for being philisophical in his writings, and seeing some views from Petter sets the mind going. The thing about Petter is that he's a story-teller. And so projects these view in short stories he tells throughout the course of the novel.

All in all, I loved The Ringmaster's Daughter. It's thought-provoking and insightful, with a touch of fantasy. Some might find the material a bit heavy, but it's worth the read. Petter is a complex character, the kind reader's would love to unravel as they read. The plot was original, cohesive. A must-read really, for writers.

(My name was eerily mentioned in the book, which was just unnerving and let's hope not foretelling)

There's one specific aspect of the story which I find interesting. While selling in Writer's Aid, Petter made sure he never sold the same idea twice, to prevent suspicion. But as the book came to the end, ironically, I realized there were parallels spreading throughout the entire thing. I began to see how a short story told when he was older happened to correspond to things that happened to him as kid, and vice versa, a story he told when he was younger strangely related to something that happened later in his life.

A coincidence? Maybe. But then again, maybe not.

There's a huge debate in the writing world on whether or not anything anyone comes up is really "original" at all. Like Sherlock Holmes once said, "There is nothing new under the sun. It has all been done before."

Somewhere out there, someone's falling for their best friend. Someone is cheating on someone they love. A little kid is chasing their dream. Someone's getting married, getting divorced. Someone's celebrating a birthday, going to a concert. Someone's fighting for what they believe in. Someone's moving to another country. Someone's taking a leap of faith.

It's a weird thing when you think about. But it's undeniable too. They may differ in the details, but when you strip down the stories, they all sound the same.

And that makes me wonder whether I have anything worth saying at all.

--Karin Novelia, Just Bursting With Ideas

Both Ends of the Same Spectrum

Recently, I read a really insightful book called Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World that Can't Stop Talking written by Susan Cain.

(Coincidentally, the only reason I know about the book was because she was the first person I watched on TED, a conference where people discuss ideas. It's pretty cool, so if you feel like being inspired visit the TED website here).

The book is psychological non-fiction, based on Susan's intensive research about human temperament, mostly focusing on the terms introvert and extrovert. Susan has observed that there's a phenomenon she's called the Extrovert Ideal where the outgoing, loud, gregarious types are more favored over the cautious and contemplating.

In this modern age of media and competitiveness, there's sort of this need to 'self-promote'. You need to show off all your good qualities, so people can see them. People won't really take the time to find out what's lying underneathe, you know? And I get why that is. But the "Extrovert Ideal" as Susan explains can also be a double-edged sword.

Now, just to be clear, this book does not glorify introverts and belittle extroverts in anyway. In fact, Susan discusses the pros and cons of each side of the spectrum, and adresses the fact that there is a sense of favoritism leaning towards extrovertism, making the benefits of introvertism feel overlooked, challenging us to rethink our paradigms and shift them into a more open-minded direction.

This isn't really a book review. I'm not going into detail about what Susan Cain wrote, I just want to share my own thoughts on the subject, focusing on the introvert side. (I do think it's a really good book, so satisfy your curiosity and read it for yourself!)

Labels can be a bit of a scary thing, especially when there are negative connotations attached to them. So as I read Quiet I was excited and apprehensive at the same time. I felt like I could relate to the book. Susan shares so many experiences, stories she gathered from other people, some she experienced herself, about people just like me (quiet, reserved, the-always-stuck-in-their-heads type). And in each of those experiences there's this feeling that being that way (which for us is simply being ourselves naturally) is something that's discouraged, frowned upon.

There were times in the book when I smiled and thought Hey, I'm just like that! and times when I frowned and wondered Is that how people see me?

The problem is, that statistically one half to one third of the world's population are introverts. Like that quiet, smart kid that's sitting in you class ace-ing tests? They're probably an introvert. And you know what? They're probably getting bullied and made fun of too.

And that's really heartbreaking. Sure, they may be quiet, but being quiet doesn't mean someone isn't brilliant. They might have a hard time getting their ideas out there, or making sure their voice is heard, but that might be because there's never anyone around who's willing to listen.

People like that usually think before they speak. They have inhibitions which may seem like a disadvantage, but sometimes that cautiousness comes in handy in avoiding possible mishaps. But it is also does quiet thinkers who have a lot to contribute in the world. Think Vincent van Gogh and Albert Einstein. They didn't have their Eureka! moments at a pool party, hanging with the gang and socializing. They retreated into their minds and simply thought about things. You may not hear much during the process, but once introverts are sure with what they have, you can bet that the product of their thoughts is pretty damn amazing.

  

One aspect of the book that unnerved me was the fact that temperament is almost something genetic. The way you were born (like how sensitive you brain system is) can deeply influence how your basic instincts and personality is. I suppose some people can call that a relief. I am the way I am because of genetics. But it also seems to chuck our whole 'free will' philosophy out of the window. Like what if I don't want to be an introvert? Why can't I be peppy and loud and outgoing like others are? Because of genetics?

The book clearly underlined that though there is a acknowledgable scientific foundation to the formation of temperament, a lot of other variables such as the way you grew up, your environment, and yes, your choices will add up to who you are.

Lesson: No matter what anyone says, you can change yourself for the better.

Another heart-breaking point was seeing how people who were introverts at heart, had to become pseudo-extroverts, just to fall into the mold of the Extrovert Ideal. I do realize that being quiet all the time, doesn't do you any more good than talking too much does. There are times when you need to stand up and speak your mind, so others can hear what your thinking. There are also times when you need to step back and think, because charging ahead might cause you to crash.

But if you constantly have to go out and do something which doesn't come naturally to you, without letting anyone see your other side than isn't that the same as pretending? Lying to yourself, not being who you really are?

The problem is that introverts are being shamed into acting like extroverts. Some people feel like being quiet, means that there's something wrong with you, so does who naturally are, question themselves, try too hard to change. Some are even see as depressed or retarded, in need of therapy or medication.

Typical for human beings to see the different and outside-of-the-norm as mental illness, huh?

Some people think I'm quiet. Okay, I won't deny that because that's true. But when people use that against me and label me as 'anti-social' or 'arrogant' by jumping to conclusions it... It doesn't feel great. I feel like I'm being judged before I'm even presenting myself, and my instinct to that is to pull back, shy away...

And that's just really frustrating. Because I know that I'm not always what people make me out to be. I am so much more than they think or see. I can be loud, I can be weird, and I can be soooo lively around other people. But only if I feel comfortable with them, which might take a while.

It's sad to think that most people don't bother to look past those first impressions.

Which one was I then? Introvert or extrovert? Of course, noone can be a pure introvert or extrovert.

I can honestly admit I've been having a bit of an identity crisis lately for the past few years. It's like everytime I wake up I have an idea of who I want to be today. The cheery up-beat me that's gonna enjoy school and learning like she used to. Then there are the days I can't help but be the quiet, thoughtful me who over analyzes everything and can never seem to feel good about herself.

I think of myself as a walking mass of contradictions. There are a lot times when I confuse myself. I'm not really sure which of those sides are the real me. Sometimes I convince myself "All of those sides are you" and just confuse myself even more. But can a person really be so optimistic and brooding at the same time? Can a person really be so impulsive and cautious?

I've come to realize that I don't really feel the need to pick a side. I am sometimes one or the other and sometimes I can be both ends of the spectrum.

So here's what I think. Labels like introverts and extroverts, can be useful. They can help us understand who we are a little bit better so we can live our lives in way that's compliments that. But if you jump to conclusions and just tack them on so carelessly, then that my friends, is called prejudice.

So don't assume you know everything about someone. We are very, very complicated and cannot be summed up by a few trivial words. People are complex, so much bigger on the inside.

Even though you might be one over the other, just remember that basically we all exist on that same spectrum. Deep down, we are all the same.

Right now, I can't think of any other word that best describes collectively who I am other than this: me.

I. Am. Me.

One of a kind. And so are you.

So no matter how alienated you feel, no matter how different the world perceive you just remind yourself: I am me and noone else. Noone else can be me.

And believe me when I say, you can be so damn brilliant.

Thanks for reading!

-- Karin Novelia, Being the Best Me I Can Be

One in The Same

Sometimes the hardest thing and the right thing are the same -- All At Once by The Fray

Everyone at some point in their lives knows what it's like to lose yourself in your dreams. To immerse yourself so deeply in your delusion and fantasies that it's easy to lose touch with reality. One day you decide that simple imaginings aren't enough. You want your dreams to be real.

Getting to that point, the point where your dreams actually do come true isn't easy. But that's the problem with people these days. They always want the easy way out.

Maybe this will sound self-praising, but I've been there. I've tried to do things the hard way, actually put in the work. And it was absolutely crushing when you stop and realize that you are the only one who truly cares, that still cares about this thing you've put your heart and soul into because for once you thought Hey, I'm actually doing something with my life!

Disappointment and failure tend to bring out the worst in people. It makes them bitter, jaded and trust me, I know. It is through that sadness that we react by trying to find something to hold on to, that last flickering flame of hope.

We wish things weren't so hard, but let's face it, they are.

I've happily spent my extended holiday in my own little bubble. Having these days off while my Dad, brother and sister still have to go to work and school inevitably gets me stuck at home, which can be suffocating sometimes (the boredom can settle in pretty fast) but it gives me a chance to sort of recuperate and reevaluate my life.

Perhaps an example might help. People who may be classified as 'hopeless' romantics have this hopeful mind-set: "Someday I'm gonna meet The One. The one person who will accept me and love just the way I am. Who will make me feel good and amaing and see perfection in my flaws. That person will remind me that I am worth loving."

Don't get me wrong. It's a lovely sentiment, but people can cling to it like it's the only option. Like all you have to do is wait and it will come to you. And it seems tempting that way, it seems easier.

Sometimes life demands more than that. More than a mere desire, more than just hope.

I mean think about it. While you're sitting there dreaming of The One have you ever stopped to think that you are The One for someone, somewhere out there? That maybe, just maybe, while you're keeping both eyes open so you won't miss The One, you weren't able to be that for someone who could've been the love of your life?

What I'm trying to say is, there are certain paradigms which aren't wrong (not at all) but can become blinding when people look at things one-sidedly. It's okay to dream and have hope and sort of let the world conspire to help you, but you can't expect that to keep on happening on its own.

Instead of wishing to meet the perfect person for you to fall in love with, why don't you shake things up a little today and try to be that perfect person, be someone who is worth loving?

Instead of sulking around and wishing people would be more understanding towards you, why don't you try being more understanding towards other people?

Life is all about perspective. It isn't wrong to see things in a certain way, to see things your own way. But as I've come to understand more and more, taking a new spin things will definitely surprise you.

I've been becoming quite productive this holiday. I've pledged to become more athletic and I can really feel the effects. I feel far more energetic and have some decent stamina. I've taken to swimming which is waaaay relaxing (though for some reason I haven't lost any weight :|) I'm also planning on taking a nice long jog tomorrow morning, like when it's still a bit dark out and just beautifully calm, with a nice playlist to keep me company and just, you know, take in the sights, breath in the air.

I've also been happily channeling my inner geek this holiday too. Blame the Avengers movie (WHICH WAS AWESOMELY EPIC, by the way) for fanning the flames but I've always believed in Superheroes! :)

Now if I can only find a decent comic-book store nearby...

Movie-hysteria has also set in. Actually having time to have an uninterrupted movie marathon turns out to be overwhelming. Where do the world do I even start? But I have found a few visual gems so expect some reviews soon :)

Then of course... there's writing. It's been a love-hate relationship between me and my craft so far. I can think out main concepts and draw them out but when it comes to writing the actual story, I basically am at a lost of words and go asdfghjkl;!

It's a bit pain-staking but I'm getting there, overcoming my writer's block.

Graduation's coming soon. I'd figure I'd be all sappy and nostalgic with the inevitable goodbyes to come but this time, I'm actually readily accepting of the future. Hopefully that's a good thing, so let's just call it progress.

Freedom's just around the corner for everyone (though yes, I have had an early start) so I'll just jump the gun and wish you all a very happy holiday!

And as always, thanks for reading!

-- Happily on Holiday, Karin Novelia :)

Who You Love, Who You Fight For and Who You Are

One aspect of human nature, which I find slightly disturbing, is our constant habit of labeling things. Not in a Sheldon Cooper like obsessive-compulsive way of labelling inanimate objects, but labeling human beings in mostly prejudicial ways.

You look at someone and start forming your opinions. You might notice their excessive body fat and assume they're lazy, insecure. You might make fun of them. You might joke around and call someone a name, in a way so ignorant that you may not realize that you're saying something that really hits home.

"I was called a faggot. I was called a homo, a queer. It was scary going into that building realizing these kids were taunting me with a word that was so close to the truth." -- Ryan Kendall in "8".

Homosexuality has been a controversial topic for years now, being the highlight of court battles, the basis for criminal sanctions and fuel for the discriminative flames of schoolyard bullies or even narrow-minded adults. The fact that the taunts thrown at them (in rude and inexcusable ways) are actually true, can only send someone over the edge, make them question who they are.

The quote above is taken from a legal-drama play called "8" which I found on Tumblr and watched on Youtube (a link to the video here). It is based off the transcripts of the trial that opposed Proposition 8, a ballot-initiative in California that banned same-sex marriage rights to citizens who were already enjoying them. It was absolutely captivating, with a live-streamed reading by a star-studded cast whose mere voice acting and subtle body language did justice to the true emotional essence that drove the historic trial to victory.

Personally, in Indonesia, you don't hear much about LGBT trials or cases. The majority of Indonesia (being Muslims) are highly religious, and it is based on those religious beliefs that homosexuality is considered wrong, in some provinces even, a crime. There is a lack of activity on the LGBT rights front, but I'm speaking from personal experience that there is at least one homosexual person in this country, and I bet that in reality there is much, much more.

What does homosexuality have to do with legal rights? Well, in most legal constitutions, the group homosexuals aren't explicitly addressed. Perhaps in a world where we all are open-minded and unfamiliar with the concept discrimination, homosexuality would not even be an issue. But it is, mostly because it is widely unaccepted in society. So, a chism has emerged from both sides of the story: people who, gay or otherwise, support LGBTs and people who don't. The people who don't accept homosexuality are finding ways to supress it, deeming it wrong and susceptible to harassment.

You ocassionaly hear someone being beaten because of their sexual orientation. Being called a freak, a faggot, far too many times that it causes them to take their own life. It's the cases like these, the discrimination and the harassment, that has pushed people to take a stand. To tell people that this is not okay and homosexuals do not deserve to be treated like that. The law is a indisputable concept developed by man which protects and creates order. Where else should these matters be taken to other than court?

Proposition 8 focuses on marriage, and it really gets you thinking. What makes gay people so different from heterosexuals? What makes them abnormal? What gives us the right to deprive them from a life of love? The Prop 8 trial focused on the definition of marriage and that it strictly had to be between a man and a woman.

Those words and definitions are man-made concepts. We're human, we make assumptions, make mistakes. Whose to say that we are not mistaken with our ideas that marriage can't be homosexual? Who can tell whether or not it will change the very core of society? Are we so arrogant to carve these paradigms into stone, without considering that change is bound to happen? In the play you'll see the defendants (the defenders of Proposition 8) have a hard time delivering their argument. Same-sex marriages or relationships are not doing any harm.

"It's not about who you're attracted to, it's who you fall in love with." -- Holly Holiday from Glee on sexuality.

Have you ever fallen in love? I, myself, don't think I have yet. How would you feel if someone told you that your love is something wrong? That this relationship that makes you feel good about yourself, makes you feel complete, is an abomination to nature and is publicly admonished? What can you even do when falling in love is something out of your control?

Love is something inspiring. And it's in my opinion that homosexual love, is the most inspiring of all. Despite all the negativity, the bigotry, these two people deemed by society as freaks or mentally-ill, come out and truly be themselves, express their love for each other in a way that is pure, touching and in the end, enduring.

I know that homosexuality is a very touchy issue, but I feel that I had to write this post on it just to let people know where I stand with it (being open-mindedly opinionated as I promised). I know that many people might not agree with me (just seeing gay couples on TV makes most of my friends disgusted).

So this is what I think -- no, this is what I believe. Homosexuality is okay. It doesn't make them any less better than heterosexuals. They are confident in who they are and we shouldn't ask them to change their ways, or pretend to be something they're not. We should not make it seem like they should be condemned, we need to make sure that they feel accepted and happy, like every human being has a right to be. They're human. Just like me and you. They might seem different, but they're not wrong.

Most might find homosexuals to be scary or feel it makes them uncomfortable, and you know what, that's okay too. We've spent most of lives seeing opposite-sex couples that same-sex ones seem foreign to us, outside of the norm. But do not ever let that fear or prejudice become an excuse for degrading a person's dignity. Do not ever make someone feel worthless when they are simply being who they are.

I don't care if your straight, gay, transgender or bi. Live the life you want to live. Love who you want to love. Marry who you want to marry. Be who you want to be.

Who you love might determine your sexuality. But your sexuality doesn't determine who you are as a person. No matter who it is, who you love will ultimately become who you fight for. Who you fight for, in the name of love, determines who you are. And that makes you human.

So take my advice. Don't hate. Be human.

I find that I get really emotional when it comes to this topic, so emotional that it clouds my heads and hinders me from fully conveying my feelings on the matter. I just hope that I make sense in what I've written, though I'll admit that I am no expert in the historic or legal or politic aspects of homosexuality rights. I'm just a person who thinks that discrimination is wrong, and urge you all to think the same.

Thanks for reading.

--Dreaming of a World Free of Hate, Karin Novelia 

General Questions to The Universe

When it comes to matters of religion, I must admit I'm on the fence on what I believe.

If we look at the way I was brought up, I'm a Roman Catholic. That's what it says on paper at least. My father is a Roman Catholic, he was the one that always insisted on going to church. Not that I didn't like church, I just found it really difficult to wake up in the morning when I was a kid, heck, I have trouble getting out of bed now. I'd prefer going to church in the afternoon, if possible.

I'm not really sure why my Dad's a Roman Catholic. Whenever I visit my grandparents they burn incense and stuff like that, more into Chinese tradition of sorts. Maybe he converted when he was older, I don't know. I'm curious about these things but how to go about asking about them politely eludes me.

My Mom, and most of her family are devoted Christians. She's definitely the most religious of the family, always giving long lectures, quoting the bible like she'd read it cover to cover and comitted every word to memory. You'd figure that a marriage between a Roman Catholic man and Christian woman wouldn't bring out that much conflict, but the two religions are significantly more different than most people would care to perceive.

Let's just say I don't go to church as much as I'd like to anymore.

Do I believe in God? Honestly, I'm not sure. When I was a kid, I was told that God was a man who created the universe, had a human kid named Jesus who mother was the Virgin Mary, and who looked just like us but could do amazing things. That inspired me the most, I think. Someone who looks ordinary but claims he is extraordinary and proves so by doing amazing things.

Mom likes to call him a lot of different names, like Saviour, the Merciful. But she likes to call him Dad, Father. I used to think that he was some guy in a white robe with a lot facial hair (An older version of how Jesus is usually portrayed), and had a palace in the clouds and sat on a throne above a mirror that overlooked absolutely everything and had this huge halo made of light, which I sometimes pictured as this glowing crown.

Childish, imaginative perceptions aside, now that I've grown, I've seen a lot of matters differently, including religion. I do partake in Mass very seriously, unlike many other peers who play with their phones or chatter excessively. I see the good values that religion does have to offer -- be kind to your fellow man, respect your parents and all that jazz. I exercise all those moral values as much as I can, in fact, its thanks to those sound moral foundations that I live a life less burdened with guilt or regret (even though being a goody two-shoes might find you all alone).

But I find it hard to believe in God when I feel he does little to contribute in my life.

Would falling down onto my knees and praying really help me achieve success? It would perhaps do a great deal of calming my soul, blind faith is sometimes what is needed to face the darkness of times ahead. But 'all talk and no action' isn't exactly a good way to go about things now, is it?

What good is faith if it does little to provoke us into action? I've always relied on my choice of action, my drive to do something about my situation. Praying and hoping things will change isn't enough. You have to do something about it. That belief has made my heavily reliant on my own capabilities, my own power that perhaps it has made turn away from 'a higher power' that doesn't intervene as quickly or as often as I would like. My life is the result of my own choices and actions, not the amount of time I spend praying.

The concept of religion and the moral values it teaches is sound. However, the mortal people who preach and practice it have started to corrupt it. I'm not an expert on these things but I have heard about the controversy of the Catholic hierarchy, something to do with sex scandals and things I tend not to indulge myself with anyway. It's become a 21st Century dilemma really. People who go to church might not be as angelic as they seem. Though, in reality it's not that different from the Biblical times when Jesus called those religious men 'two-faced'.

What we believe has a lot to do with our actions, the way we express those beliefs and interpret them. Would you prefer to be a 'religious' man who goes to church often, prays often everyday, but does little to help others, or continues to do things that are frowned upon OR would you rather not go to church and not neccessarily believe in God but belief the moral goodness of humanity and strive to uphold that?

Another reason for my shaky faith might be the fact that I'm beginning to see more bad around me than good. Whenever you turn on the news there's always something horrible happening somewhere around the world. Suicide bombings continue to happen in Iraq or Sudan or some other Middle Eastern country. Somewhere, some mentally ill man has commited murder, arson, suicide. War continues to rage. People are poor, starving. Tsunamis, earthquakes, tornadoes. Children are crying, dying. And there's nothing I can do about it.

Would praying bring those people, who lived an unfair life and died far too soon, back? Would praying make their situations any better? Would God really let all these bad things happen? Why? For what reason?

So no, maybe I don't believe in God. But I do believe in humanity. There's hope for us yet. Maybe in the end, that's what really matters.

Though I do not care for labelling my religion or object of faith, such as 'God', I do believe there is some force that drives the world, our world, clandestinely, beyond my or your comprehension.

For now, I'd rather just submit few questions to the ominous-force-behind-the-universe:

1). What do you look like, oh divine power? Are you like the air, unseen but present? Or are you nothing and everything at once? Or are you what we choose to perceive? Do you let us see or believe in you the way we want to see you as?

2). What's it like having all that power? Are you like what everyone else says? A divine force completely made of... good? Is it true that all you let happen in this world serves some greater purpose, some greater good? Or are you not what we think at all? Are you something that feeds on this endless power, that abuses it just like we'd abuse it, given the chance?

3). How did you come to be? It's hard to comprehend that before you created everything there is now, there was absolutely nothing. What would nothing be like? Didn't we invent the term nothing? Would the universe be an empty void of blackness? If we invented the term nothing and see it as such, then it doesn't really exist at all, right? How can there be nothing in the beginning when we created nothing? As I child I use to imagine that time would stop still and just start going into reverse. Everything around me would start to disappear, one by one, until I would be the last thing to disappear. Imagining what nothing would be like made my head hurt. It still does now. Then how did you come to be? How did something as great as you come from... nothing?

4). Do have a consciousness? Like can you actively think, produce thoughts? Or do you just act out of instinct, like a robot or something? Like you just know what needs to be done and do it, without question? If you can think, do you have feelings then? Does it hurt you seeing all the darkness start to engulf the world? Does it make you cry to see someone die a horrible death or live in a world that is just so unfair? If you have feelings, do you care? If you care then do you care enough to do something about it? To intervene? If you do care then why don't you? Do something about all this, I mean. I don't expect you to fix everything in an instant, that would be too easy for us. Then why do things seem to become even worse?

5). If you do exist, what are your thoughts on religion? Do you approve of them? I approve of the concept and moral teachings but disapprove the corrupting actions. Would you agree with me? Religion is, I suppose, a human invention. If you were the one who first created religion, would things be better? Would we be more guided than lost? Why don't you stop being so enigmatic then? If there's a clear-cut way to a righteous life then why not just show the clear path, at least for those who are willing to take it?

6). Why do I feel so unhappy lately? Why am I suddenly seeing so many dark things? If everyone else can live so ignorantly happy, why can't I? Why do I care so much? Why do I care so much for all the people who are suffering out there, beyond my control, beyond my reach of sympathy or help? People I don't even know, have never even met? Are you testing me? Why me then? Is this your funny way of telling people they're special? Make them go through hell just so they can emerge the better person? Because that's what what you want them to be?

7). Can I be like Jesus? Can you think of me as one of your children? Can I claim myself to extraordinary and do things like he did? Would you help?

8). Why is that everytime I go looking for you, for your face, for your help that it suddenly seems like you're not even there? Is it some kind of punishment? For doubting you, not believing in you? I'm trying okay. I don't know what else to say. I'm trying.

9). When I pray, do you really listen? Or do you just ignore me and listen to someone else's more deserving pleas? Can I even communicate with you? Am I even worthy of your time? Or am I just talking to myself?

10). Speaking of time, I wonder if you 'age'. I wonder if in someway time has changed you, affected you. Does it? Or are you just the same  as you've always been? Just... there.

11). Does it hurt? To die? What does it feel like, to have the life you've given us just... drain out of us? Where does that 'life' go? Where do we go?

12). When we die, will you be there? Will we finally be able to see you, to understand you? Or would that only be those that go to heaven? Will you be the one to take us there? Who takes us to hell then? If there is one?

13). What's hell really like? Did you create that as well? Like a dump for all the bad people, I suppose. Have you met Lucifer, or the Devil, or the entity that is your dark, mirrored self? Do guys have tea together or something (haha) and negotiate things like who goes to whose domain? Does he (it?) even exist? Or are you just one in the same?

14). Does heaven exist? If it does, what's it like? Is it like I imagined as a child, an awesome palace up in the clouds? Or is it a matter of perception, what we choose for it be, our own private heaven? Would you let me talk to you, like have a proper chat with me, if I ever do happen to make it up there?

15). How many people are up in heaven? Do we live together or seperately? Could I talk to some people? Is Sir Arthur Conan Doyle up there? I'd love to talk to him. Freddie Mercury? Kurt Cobain? Whitney Houston? Amy Winehouse? Do have parties up there? I wouldn't mind joining in for a song or two.

16). Do angels exist? Like with the white-feather wings and everything? Did they used to be like us, mortal beings? Or do you just make them seem that way, that human, to us? If they are like us, can I be an angel too?

17). Last and most important question of all: Why are you so frustrating?

-- Calling Out To The Universe, Karin Novelia

Through The Rain-Stained Glass

To be honest, I've changed. Quite a lot really, when you think about it.

Perhaps, this is a good thing. On the other hand, maybe it isn't either.

When I was little I used to get along with everyone, making friends were easy back when you were four. Now, honestly, friendship has become complicated.

I always, and still believe that no matter  how horrible someone seems, there is a good side to them. Now, I'm starting to think, that maybe that's not always the case.

I've always believed of giving somone second chances, giving them the benefit of the doubt. Back then, it seemingly paid off. Now, I'm not sure if it's worth the trouble.

I used to be such a tomboy. The kind of girl that would rather shoot hoops with the guys than gossip about guys with the girls. Never thought about love that much. Again, it was easier to do that when you were little. And so much easier before I met you. Hehehe. ;)

Back then, I used to think that there was always people who supported me. Now, it looks like there are a lot more people who want to bring me down.

Back then, I was still the youngest child. I still got some attention, just like a kid should. Now, I'm the middle child, always looking after my brother and sister, sometimes being side-lined for the sake of their well-being. I used to love this 'job', now I'm not sure. :/

Use to think, that no matter how bad things seemed, everything would work out if I tried my best. Now, at best, I still cling onto that belief, but time and time again, I've been proven wrong.

I used to always speak my mind. I always would say the stupidest things, and people would go "Aw, how cute" and laugh. Cuz when you're little you're still allowed to make mistakes. Now, people might take things the wrong way, and blow things out of proportion. So I guess, I've learned to think before I speak. I've learned that maybe it's best to hold your tongue sometimes. Perhaps, at times, I've witheld to much?

They say change is part of growing up. You can't grow up without it.

Maybe it seems like my changes in perspective on the things I've written above are seemingly becoming more pessimistic. Well, maybe they are. But maybe, their just showing that I'm thinking more logically. Thinking more mature. The real world -- the one I'll face once I'm all grown-up -- isn't that much welcoming for a kid, right?

There's one thing, that I've started to realize though. Back then, in my old life, I guess you could call it, I've been a bit closed. I used to think that showing emotions -- sadness, anger, depression, envy -- was lame. That it showed I was weak.

Now, I still think the same way. Noone really cared when I did, so I see it as pointless.

But recently, things have been different. I've found myself opening up to other people. I've even cried in front of my friends (during AYC), and it's something I haven't done in a long time. When it happened, I couldn't help but hit myself. I thought things would start to be awkward. That when I looked at my friends, all they would remember was me in that moment. Fragile, weak... and vulnerable.

Surprisingly, they didn't. Well, maybe they did remember that moment. But because they did, I guess, I've let them into my personal bubble, given them a chance to know me better. They gotten a better look at who I am, and what gets to me. That didn't make them any less my friends. In fact, it's made them better friends, since now they know exactly what to do and when I need a helping hand or just a hug.

I think I've realized, that showing emotions isn't such a bad thing. That sometimes, it's okay to let those tears out. Seeing the world through tear-glazed eyes is like looking through the rain-stained glass of a window after a drizzle. The moist drops of water slightly obscure your view and the world becomes a little blurry, and for a moment your troubles seem a lot less small. Then the light shines at a certain angle, and the drops of water seem to shine, giving off their small glow.

And then, in this half-melancholic, half-calm state, you realize: the world is beautiful.

--Karin Novelia, Staring Out The Rain-Stained Glass

I'm a Failure

Pretty pathetic title up there huh?

Let's just say, I've been having a pretty bad day, and tomorrow I'm afriad might not be all that better.

BAH! Whatahellamisayin? TOMORROW IS GOING TO BE GREAT, no matter how epic a FAIL today was. YES! I'm optimistic, really optimistic.

But, still, for the sake of my mental health, I guess I need to vent. Let out some steam before I blow.

So yeah. Today was a day I was dreading to go into. Why?

1) I knew the morning would go terribly wrong. My Public Speaking skills have failed me :(

2) I knew that someone would not be happy by the end of the day. Ultimately, I was right.

3) I knew that before the day even started that I would feel under-appreciated. I still do.

Nyaa... Sigh. HAHAHAHAHA! Bah .__.

Emotions are stabile right now, but they were flying all over the place the entire day. There's just one question on my mind now. Am I letting this go too quickly? I've always been told that I tend to be too nice for my own good. By just keeping quiet, am I just letting the trash pile up? Will this just let people continue on with their biased judgements, without me even standing up for myself?

But by opening my mouth will things even get any better? Or will it just add flames to the fire? It could end in ultimate resolution, but the spike of emotions and conflict that precedes it might not be even worth it. I've been there and here before. I know neither scenario is ideal, but I can't see either one as better.

When I thought of the words, "I'm a Failure", it took no hesitation for me to accept it. To accept the harsh criticism dished out by another. Honestly, I do feel like such a completely failure, I won't lie. I won't make excuses. I could blame everyone else but I haven't. I could've sulked all day, but I didn't.

And that is something, I can be proud of for myself. This trial of misconception and error has only strengthened me as a person.

Either way, I may be a failure today, but I can sure as hell be a SUCCESS tomorrow.

Thanks for reading.

--Karin Novelia

The Complexities of People

Before you say anything, yeah I know it's late. Why am I up so late? One word: projects. And the school's whacked out policy that deadline should be tomorrow. Don't get me wrong, I know their doing that to give us more ULUM prep time, both honestly couldn't they have made it this Monday? That would give us the whole weekend tying up loose ends and putting on finishing touches. And believe me group work is not easy. -__-

ASEAN Youth Conference thing hasn't been announced yet, but by the looks of Yudhi's facebook status he's picking out candidates right now. Something to look forward to -__-

Anyways, bad mood, sleepy mood aside, I've been on a rollercoaster for awhile this year, but it looks like I'm having more ups than downs. Hopefully a fresh dose of Lee DeWyze songs will cheer me up tonight. J

Right now, I'm really confused about people. As one of the most evolved, intelligent ones on Earth, we're also the most complicated. Maybe it's because I've had a sheltered childhood, and my only playmate at home was TeeVee and Nickelodeon sitcoms, I like to stay quiet and observe people. Once considering psychiatry in my future career, sometimes I wonder whether or not we're too complicated enough to understand.

Basic psychology knowledge: people are who they are now based on their past experiences. Factors like family, friends, social community, all play a role in that. Stepping into SMP Santa Laurensia has really showed me a different spectrum of people. Maybe it was because we were all teens going to puberty and stuff and my train of thought was as innocent as a 5-year-old, but at first maybe I gave people the benefit of the doubt more than I should have.

I'm not saying names here, but unlike others, I don't like to gang up on others even though their flaws are apparent and I get somewhat determined to unveil the better person behind that. Doing the right thing isn't always the easy thing. Most of the time, my mom says I'm too nice for my own good (is that a bad thing?).

Once there was a boy, who everyone made fun of from day one. Being moved by goody-two-shoes heart, I decided to give him a chance and get to know the person inside. At first, it all seemed to sail smoothly. He turned out to be a fun and upbeat sort of guy. Dodging rumors and constant reminders that he is *insert bad word/trash talk here* and doesn't deserve a second of my time, I didn't listen. Guess you can tell this didn't turn out well, huh?

Long story short, he spilled a huge secret to the one main person he should've never told and we stopped being friends.

Yet, believe it or not, I found it in my heart to forgive him in the end.

"The Power of Forgiveness Sets You Free, Right?"

Okay, enough of that tragic story of a betrayed friendship. All it did was prove my point. People are complex. One minute, they act like this, then the next they do a complete 360 spin on ya.

For years, I've pondered why the Earth is so complicated. Correction, overly-complicated. And I guess I've discovered the answer is that people are the ones who are over-complicated. Like now there's all this talk of Global Warming. Can they stop all this talk for once and put in some action? Like you know how cars are one the main problem due to green house gas emissions? Can they just do something directly about the problem and I don't know, STOP mass-producing cars? That'll save metal and gas and force everyone to buy a bike.

Why can't that actually happen? Because, like I said, people are complex. They know it is the right thing to do but they avoid doing the right thing all due to their overzealous and egotistical need to make sure they are comfortable and thus cars are a society's must. Everyone would be causing a riot if a policy like that was ever passed and riot=chaos, chaos=political upheaval, political upheaval=anarchy, anarchy=living hell on Earth.

Yeah, I'm a bit peeved right now. >:P

Another example for humanity's complexities, is a certain girl. At a glance, this girl seems quiet and innocent, like a kindergartener stuck in teen's body. You think she does everything with all her might and would never hurt fly. WRONG! That's exactly what she wants you to think, so especially if you're smart, she'll start approaching you without you noticing it and you feel obligated to do all the work when you are in the same group, but then she starts getting pushy and giving orders and (I don't know what the English term is) nyolot.

Lesson learned: outside appearances and inside personalities can be completely different. Why can't people just act like themselves? There are various reasons. But one reason that I think applies for everything is that people are complex and complicated.

And I'm afraid we'll just never understand why.

Signed,

Sir Writes-A-Lot