Behind A Longing For Sun

Seven

Excitement surged as she turned the page.

"A New Beginning," read the chapter's title.

Suddenly she froze and tightened her grip.

She wanted to turn back the page

to her pampered life; her comfort zone

but gone was the piece of paper.

She was just grasping at thin air.

Her father's words rang in her ears.

"You are on your own now, Claudia."

The seven opening words of the chapter.

It was daunting, treading a new path.

Strong winds blew as she stepped forward.

It wasn’t going to be smooth sailing.

Saying a prayer, she embraced the future.

Claudia lifted her head and looked around -

unfamiliar faces and cultures, rich and diverse.

It was surreal being where she was;

university, an institution of the highest level.

She'd envisioned this in her younger days.

She pinched herself – it wasn’t a dream.

Wasn't it just yesterday that school began?

Worry lingered at the beginning of term.

Would she adapt, would she fit in?

She was responsible for grown-up things.

Finances, shopping – she wished she were wiser.

Mistakes were made and lessons were learnt;

about time to change her ignorant ways.

Independence was now hers, like never before.

Occasional phone calls came from miles away.

"I'm fine," she'd say, "don't worry now."

Fond recollections of home flitted her way.

Love and warmth - she missed it all.

Sometimes she awoke with a transient heartache.

Her dog was old, time ticked away.

She longed to stroke its fur again.

Claudia had much to discover about herself.

She realised just how little she knew.

The enchanting city opened many concealed doors.

An adventurous soul came to the surface.

Perspectives were changed and new hobbies emerged.

Here began her quest for self-discovery.

She looked forward to the journey ahead.

Winter poked its head around the corner.

Sunlight shone through the clouds of uncertainty.

Her strength grew with each passing day.

She loved the feeling of starting afresh;

this thrilling new chapter of her life.

It will change her, this she knew.

Seven more months and she'll be home.

* * *

So this is a poem written by my friend for her creative writing course, whom I shall not name due to Malaysian reasons.

It may not be the best of writing styles, but I like it. Because it shows reflects the feelings of most international students studying here in London. 

To discover ourselves; to improve ourselves; and to make the most out of our youth, so that we can look back without regrets. But at the same time, we must not forget our roots, for it is our home that makes us who we are. We must strive to balance the past and the present, to make the best for our future.

Sure you might say: "Anyone can write a poem with feelings." You might be even tempted to do so now. It is easy, no doubt.

But notice that this poem is a form of restrictive writing, with each stanza having 7 lines and each line having 7 words. I agree, it is still easy to write something like that, but the magic happens when you truly put effort into what we do: spending hours thinking of the perfect word or the perfect metaphor; ensuring that the mood of the poem shifts with each stanza etc. Only when there is a limit to our actions can our creativity truly shine through. We make the best of what we have to create a masterpiece.

And is that not the reason why we choose to study away from home? To step out of the care of our families and into the harsh world, so that we will merely get a taste of what being independent is truly about. But we survive, for we adapt to our new environment and make the most of our time here, and go home a new person.

Same but different, hopefully.

I should not steal the spotlight. Cya for now. 

PS Sorry for my previous post. Them moods. D: On a lighter note, here's another piece of literature:

Merry Xmas!!!

Behind People's Shadows

I had always liked to be around people. Talking to them, knowing them, or just having fun.

But the thing is I always do not know what to say to them.

Invariably the conversation will switch to a topic I have no idea about.

Like DoTA. Or football. Or engineering course. Or gossip about some friend.

What the hell am I supposed to say to that?

Often you can see me in groups deep in conversation, but most of the time, I am quiet, like a shadow without a mouth.

I like to think that I am a wallflower: a quiet friend who understand. And then I realised: I'm not happy being a wallflower. I want to be in the action, be a part instead of apart.

There is no worse loneliness than being alone in a crowd.

Deep shiz.

I mean, I do talk to people. I do. I just don't feel as if I belong sometimes.

The people I can connect to are those who are random, like how I hope to be. Life needs order, but that order should rise from chaos. Because it looks damn cool in a history book.

And then I heard this sentence in church the other day.

(In case you're wondering, I'm not Christian. I think.)

COMMUNITY DOES NOT NECESSARILY MEAN CONFORMITY. GOD (whoever He may be)

MADE US ALL TO BE UNIQUE, SO WHY SHOULD WE MAKE OURSELVES UNIFORM?

Deep shiz No. 2.

Aye. Maybe I've been trying too hard to be a part of the group that I'm changing myself, and failing at that too. 

I'm me, and that's what they should know.

I heard this sentence a long time ago, and it hit me real hard:

IF YOU STAND FOR NOTHING, 

YOU WILL FALL FOR ANYTHING

Deep shiz No 3.

And maybe that's the problem. I don't believe, hence I am not, and I change.

The only thing predictable is that I am random.

What the hell.

Okay, I'm not gonna share this like the other posts. I sound quite attention needing here.

I MEAN LOOK AT THE NUMBER OF "I"S IN HERE!

But if you do see it, I'm sorry. I just need to shout.

Cya in counseling.

Behind A Fallen Star, And A Fallen Pillar

Remember a time when our standards were lower. When all we needed for entertainment were fast cars, furious gunners and frikking explosions. We may think we have left that time, but there is always something about the fast, the furious and the expletives that always bring us back for more.

Imagine, now, that an idol in this field; a simple actor, has perished in the exact way he lived on screen. Is this irony? Or is there a guy upstairs with a weird sense of humour, and finds this the proper ending, or distraction from world problems, like how much people hate their government, no matter who it may be.

Pictures of his passing fill the Internet, followed by pictures of people ridiculing people who mourn his passing. In a way, they are all and both wrong and right. He was just a lucky man who had met with an unfortunate death. But how much respect does he deserve?


Meanwhile, halfway across the globe...


Recall a time when the skin colour determines the social class. When all we needed to know was who worked for whom and where each persons' places are. We may think we have left that time, but there is always someone who is either selfish, backward, or just plain stupid enough who might wanna bring that time back.

I wanted, before, to be an impact; a simple person, to perish for how others wished to live. Is this selflessness? Or is there a guy upstairs with a weird faith in humanity, and makes it a divine guidance, or a hope for the world's people, to know that every person is equal, no matter who they may be.

People across the world fill the social media with their condolences, followed by the people in South Africa remembering how much their lives were changed by him. In a way, they are all affected by his action. He was just an unlucky man who had met with an extremely fortunate fate. But how much respect does he deserve?

Requiescat in pace,

 Paul Walker.

Requiescat in pace, 
Nelson Mandela.

Cya world.