big aims.

The past couple of months I’ve been on and off having conversations with one of my great friends about “making it big”. He has visions of making it out on his own and, God willing, visions become awesome achievements. And he has so much faith in me. He believes in me more than I believe in myself because he wants me to chase my dreams, too.

Few nights ago, I had another similar conversation with a man. We’ve started this trail of conversation last year, and it was great to catch up with how he was doing on his side recently. I found myself smiling, intrigued with this man’s wisdom and perseverance into working his dream for himself and his family. That night, I learned that nothing worthwhile ever truly comes easy. Requires patience, determination, belief and effort.

Several hours ago, I had a similar line of conversation with my best friend. “I hope you see that I have big aims”, he said, softly. “And I hope you see that I’m here for you to help you achieve them,” I replied.

Three different people, similar goals. One is just gradually starting, one is working through the ropes, and the other is thinking and talking about it. My support varies, but with the same intention i.e. to keep these people moving towards their aims. It’s one of those things that I have to tell myself, too. I’ve got to make my move, got to be determined, and got to help myself.

And of all these three people, the one that I had hoped to include me in their plans didn’t. Sad, isn’t it? Or maybe I’m over-thinking.

I shall blame this depression on every girl’s excuse i.e. PMS. Don’t wanna dwell on this.

“I don’t need a cheerleader. I need a striker.” – a good quote my friend shared with me. Can’t I be both?


Till then.



Another depressing post.

We all have stories that we would either share or keep to ourselves. What’s for sure is that these stories carry experiences. Our experiences make us who we are. All the good and all the bad.
We also hide behind faces that we want others to see. That’s not being fake. It’s about being who we are. All the world’s a stage, some famous person said.
Someone I used to call my friend once said that we blend in. Become one of the crowd, even though we don’t want to be there with them. We blend in not because we have any real purpose to be there. We blend in because there’s someone there we would still want to share our time with. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be.
I still wonder what’s my purpose of being here. It’s sad. I’m sad for my family. I’m sad for my sad friends. I’m sad for myself.
But instead of feeling sorry for myself, I need to figure things out. There is more to life than all this. I just need to start taking things more seriously. I need to make a move. I NEED TO MAKE A MOVE.
This isn’t it for me.

calm down, Em.

When it comes to loving someone that I care about, I give you my all. I’ll give you the love that I feel you deserve. When it comes to the point that I no longer care, I don’t. When it comes to the point where I don’t feel the same anymore, I don’t.
But when it comes to me loving you, giving you my time of day, telling you my secrets, my thoughts…sharing you pieces of my life, I don’t hold back. I wear my heart on my sleeve. Then there you go, I wasted it all on you. You don’t realize. You don’t appreciate. You don’t even acknowledge. I cried for you. I left something good for you. FOR EFFING YOU.
I had it coming. I had my instinct. But I chose to ignore it because I believed in you. In us. You made me believe.
Perhaps I deserve this. For what I’ve done before. I wish you happiness. I hope for you that you will grow up and learn. That love is not something to hold and then keep. It’s to hold and cherish. To appreciate. To grow on.
So much I’d like to say to you but you won’t understand. You never did. Never even tried to. All those words you said are lies. All those promises. And I’m venting this out on a semi-public place because it’s the only way I know how. I don’t wanna text you. I don’t wanna call you. I don’t wanna see you. Because it would all be wasted. At least here, I can remind myself to never believe in you again.
Well done, man. You’ve played me well. I hope the girl won’t ever have to go through what I did when I was with you. I hope you appreciate her. I hope you don’t tell her that you’re not ready once you’ve got her. I hope you don’t play her for a fool.
I don’t feel it anymore. Thank you.


upon telling him what really happened;
his face changed. the look of disappointment was so obvious. it sliced a little of my heart.
“Wow…that’s just…wow. Mind blasting.”
“I know. I know it’s bad…”
our conversation went on for about five minutes;
“I’m really sorry!”
“No, don’t be…It’s just…I’m sorry actually. I’m just…disappointed.”
“I know…” I am, too…
the look on his face was enough. in the three or four faces i’ve seen – his face struck a profound note in me.
“What happened to you, Emie?”
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me”
“No, nothing’s wrong with you, everyone goes through this. Maybe not the same situation, but similar choices. Between the heart and mind. You have to choose.”
“What do you mean heart and mind? Which one should I be listening to?”
“Heart is what you want. Mind is what your brain is telling you…the reasonable one. Your brain KNOWS this is not right. Your heart and what you’re feeling are saying this feels right, but your mind knows it’s wrong. So wrong, Emie. You have to choose which one. I think you know the answer. I think you know what you should be choosing.”
“But if you do choose to be that way, then that’s that. Whatever makes you happy. No one can say otherwise…”
“But I don’t wanna be that kind of person. I don’t wanna be that. That’s not me. I won’t be happy.”
“Then what are you doing? Why are you doing this to yourself?”

What am I doing to myself? :(

“We’ll talk more about this tomorrow, okay?”
“Okay, I needed that. I needed that look on your face.”

The look of disappointment. It’s the look I “felt” in me for what happened. What have I become?