Empowering yourself
Throughout my life, I'd always think of myself as the underdog. I was never the one to be under the limelight. I could sit in a table full of people passing compliments to each other and thinking to myself "I wish I was her". But of course, there are times where I did had my chance to outshine and always celebrated my little moment if I ever had the chance to even though most of the time, it's always short-lived.
I guess I can say I am a little too harsh on myself sometimes, but please don't get me wrong. I'm incredibly grateful for whatever God has given me, though I admit that most of the time I'm genuinely never satisfied because somehow, I just feel that whatever I do, I can always do it better- there's always room for improvement. Believe me, I am my own worst critic. But no matter the anger and insecurity, I would never trade myself for another soul.
It's obvious isn't it? Everyone has insecurities. We all have flaws and wished we were all better at something else. Nobody is perfect. Not that buff dude with his dad driving a freaking posh ass Porsche or the girl with the perfect make up, Chanel bag and huge chest. It may seem like these people have their lives together and utterly contented with their life but chances are, they don't.
I guess it's all about empowering yourself then. To make full use of what you have, be grateful for it and continually strive to be a better version of yourself. We're all a work in progress and it's okay to make mistakes and have our unhappy and insecure days. "Remember that this, too, shall pass" life is ever-changing and there's always ways to deal with things, so always keep your heads up.
To anyone reading this, jump around, eat that last brownie and just live. I wish you good health, happiness and everything else good in your life.
Much love.
I guess I can say I am a little too harsh on myself sometimes, but please don't get me wrong. I'm incredibly grateful for whatever God has given me, though I admit that most of the time I'm genuinely never satisfied because somehow, I just feel that whatever I do, I can always do it better- there's always room for improvement. Believe me, I am my own worst critic. But no matter the anger and insecurity, I would never trade myself for another soul.
It's obvious isn't it? Everyone has insecurities. We all have flaws and wished we were all better at something else. Nobody is perfect. Not that buff dude with his dad driving a freaking posh ass Porsche or the girl with the perfect make up, Chanel bag and huge chest. It may seem like these people have their lives together and utterly contented with their life but chances are, they don't.
I guess it's all about empowering yourself then. To make full use of what you have, be grateful for it and continually strive to be a better version of yourself. We're all a work in progress and it's okay to make mistakes and have our unhappy and insecure days. "Remember that this, too, shall pass" life is ever-changing and there's always ways to deal with things, so always keep your heads up.
To anyone reading this, jump around, eat that last brownie and just live. I wish you good health, happiness and everything else good in your life.
Much love.
Feeling good
The past few weeks have been a total roller-coaster ride for me. With submissions and tests in full swing, I just can't help but feel so drained and out of my depth. It's been excruciatingly draining. I have been so absorbed with work that I didn't even had time to wish my friend happy birthday. It is that bad. And to make matters worse, I haven't seen Rausyan in weeks (not until yesterday) and it is truly a wonder how I'm able to remain sane. Yesterday, Rausyan and I decided to take some time off our hectic schedules to meet up and man, I have never felt like myself in a long time. Somehow everything just falls in place wonderfully with his presence and for once in weeks, I was genuinely calm and undeniably happy but most importantly, I was like myself again.
I guess what I am trying to say is that if work, school or life even, is kicking your ass, always take some time out to smell the roses. Take as long as you need, and then push on. You can do it.
Cultural Appropriation
Being in Temasek Polytechnic, all students are able to pick three subjects from the other different faculties. This semester, I decided to take Creative Writing and what can I say? It had really rekindled my love for writing! In this subject, we are being taught on how to analyse stories and also the different techniques on how to write one seamlessly. It is like literature back in secondary school, really. But the only things missing are the company I had in class; and not forgetting my witty teacher Mdm Kala. One of our assignments that we have to do is to come up with a reflection on any topic that we want. I decided to do on cultural appropriation as I feel that this subject isn't really being discussed much and I thought I would like to share it here.
Cultural appropriation is the adoption of parts of a certain culture by a group of people, typically by a group of the privileged dominants, for the purpose of show or fashion, without truly understanding the true reasons behind it.
While the topic of cultural appropriation is a term that isn’t often heard in daily conversation in Asia, it is definitely growing in America. With people having such a privilege over just about anything, they deemed it okay to be able to pick and choose racial symbols, or even parts of a race, and then suit it to their needs. The use of bindis while calling Indians ‘smelly’, the niqab while calling Muslims ‘oppressed’, the use of kimonos while making fun of the people’s accents and calling them ‘small-eyed’. In short, they had blatantly chose the “pretty” or “interesting” concepts from cultures and threw it all together as their very own costume whilst ignoring the history behind it and discriminating the people of origins at same time. That is cultural appropriation.
I strongly believe that there is a fine line between cultural appropriation and cultural appreciation. In all honesty, I did not have much issue with people ‘borrowing’ our culture’s outfits at first as I feel that every culture is beautiful and should be shared with everyone all across the world. However, it started to infuriate me when Muslims are being labelled as ‘terrorists’ and are subjected to abuse for donning the hijabs, when it is part of our religion and holds such a cultural significance; but when a Hollywood celebrity choses to use it, she’s seen as cool and fashionable. It was then that I realise why cultural appropriation is an issue and it is definitely not okay. You cannot take the attractive bits from people’s religion or culture and glamorise them whilst ignoring the fact that Muslims out there are receiving a great deal of abuse for wearing what the Westerners are seemingly turning into a fashion trend. Ignorance is so destructive. Why is it okay for them to use it but not us? Why can’t we proceed with our religious needs? Why do white people get to express themselves freely but not us?
However, with these being said, I still have hope in humanity and I feel that people should learn about all the different cultures. Asia, for instance, I feel, have the richest cultures in the world. It is still being practiced today and the people have been taught to be proud of it, even when others frown upon it. By learning about the different cultures, it can certainly broaden one’s horizons and of course, gain some knowledge.
I guess what I am saying is that as long as you recognize the history of what you’re wearing, and know why you’re doing it, and as long as the media presents it in that light, it is not as hurtful.
Beautiful time of the year
So the beautiful month of Ramadhan has once again dawned upon us and boy am I glad to be able to be able to experience it again. For some reason, Ramadhan seems extra special to me this year. And I am not referring to the succulent foods or the fact that it is because Eid drawing close as well. I have so many goals that I wish to achieve this Ramadhan and I genuinely hope that it will follow on even when the month ends.
In light of this beautiful month, I pray that Allah SWT bless us all with good health, protects us from all evil and never lets us lose hope. May He forgive us for all the wrongdoings that we have done in the past. I pray that the He eases the troubles for us all especially those whom are stricken with poverty and hardship that I can’t even fathom myself. May He erase our bad habits and bless us all to the right path. In shaa Allah.
Ramadhan yields some kind of beauty. Bask in it. May you have a blessed Ramadhan ahead.
For you, a thousand times over.
The calm after the storm
Dreams and aspirations
Hello lovely humans,So recently I decided to clean up and reorganize the documents in my laptop, and during which, I chanced upon a few essays that I used to write outside curriculum hours and e-mailed to my English teacher for her to mark and give me comments on my writing. So I went on to reread my essays and I got a little sentimental because:
1) I really loved writing. And it's honestly sad how the diploma that I'm taking on now isn't related to writing (literature means)/humanities at all.
2) My standard in writing has deteriorated terribly because I haven't been writing.
But with that being said, I don't regret my course at all. I honestly think it's quite epic. (especially with my new-found friends) There has been some ups and downs but hey that's just life. I have honestly never imagined myself taking business/engineering but what can I say? I'm loving the spontaneity.
So life's been...well, the same. Here's a few pictures of what I've been up to!
So...on one of the days, my devils unleashed my inner badass and made me skip school! We went back to PRCS to collect our SGCs and then headed down to Downtown East to break our fast. Oh how I've missed PRCS. The walkways hold so much memories, I honestly can't believe I've actually spent 5 years of my life there. And words can't express how lucky I am to have met such wonderful people; that is my girls. It's honestly amazing how we're all still so close despite being splitted into different schools. They're one of the few people that I feel really comfortable with. I honestly wish it'll continue this way 4ever and ever ❤️
Bu(RDEN)siness Fundamentals presentation with my swag team. So one of the things that I really looked forward to upon entering poly was the formal presentations!!! I've always seen people uploading pictures of them in their formal attire and they'd always look downright cool. So can you imagine my happiness when my tutor said that we have to dress up for presentation????
The presentation on the other hand went rather smoothly. I'm so blessed to be part of such an epic team. We had to present on Conflict Management which I thought was pretty cool. (Mostly cool because it's the shortest topic among the other groups HAHAHAH)
And now I thought I'd share with you guys one of my essays that I've written back in secondary school. It's an essay about "dreams"; a topic that I took from the ten year series book. ENJOY!
Dreams
(‘O’ level 2006)
The clear skies were intoxicating with its infinite blue. It was one of those perfect days, a mix of warm and cool, the sun and air sublime in its purest aesthetic. Too ecstatic by the fruitful opportunities that the sky cried, I welcomed its fresh serenity with deep content inhales.
“How are you feeling today, Ally?” my therapist, Dr Frayn asked.
“I’m feeling grand” I replied genuinely “never better”
“That’s good” she replied, “what about your dreams?”
“It has improved, I have been dreaming about cats and unicorns, mostly happy things”
I then looked at the mirror near me, only to be greeted by the bags under my star studded eyes. But I looked happier now. Happier than I was two years back. I have fought depression for five months now and I am utterly proud of myself. However as I looked at the mirror, even though my smile was wide and jovial, my eyes screamed pain and sadness. It was due to a tragic accident which happened two years ago, an accident which had left me so traumatised and caused me to have many sleepless nights. It happened two years ago, on New Year’s eves.
I could still remember the thief’s face vividly. Tanned, sly and he had an unshaven moustache. He was not only a thief, he was a murderer. He stole my parent’s money and also their lives, after which, he blatantly vanished and left two immobile corpses that represented the two people I called family. I was there at the scene where the fateful tragedy transpired.
“NO, ALFIE” I remembered my dad pleading for mercy “you can have my money but you are not going to take my family away from me”
I was hiding in my room yet my sight was keen enough to see the whole thing clearly. I immediately called the police, who were too slow. Tears started racing down my cheeks live rivulets. I then closed my eyes as I could not bear looking and all I could hear was my dad shouting “NOO” and my mother’s shrieking screams.
After hearing the door shut close, I raced down to my beloved parents. My heart shattered when I saw my mother unconscious and covered with blood. As I fell to my knees, I held the knife. Its sharp edge has plunged the heart of my mother who had loved me oh so dearly. I have always had a fear with sharp objects; my fear has become a horror fright right before my very eyes.
I then saw my dad’s body at the other corner of the living room. It was the most horrible sight ever. An inch away from me was the evil contraption that had cut my father’s body into halves. I touched the axe; it was dripping with crimson red blood. I used to think of red as something as positive as love and passion. Now, it holds a sad connotation I’ll never forget.
The police, whom I hated so badly for their incompetency came over a few minutes later. I was sent to my Aunt Lucy’s place who soon became my legal guardian. The murderer was captured three days later, and it was later denounced that he will be receiving the death sentence. Justice was not served however, I reckoned. I became so panic-stricken. I was sobbing so hard. Everything happened so quickly that my eyes can be likened to a faucet left open.
How could he? I was indignant. Not only did I lose my parents, I lost my freedom and the justice I deserved to be happy. I spent the rest of my days sulking by the window and that was when I started having dreams. The rest of the year was an endless struggle. It feels like as though you are screaming but no one hears you, and all you could do it sit and mock in disdain, and feel the tears trickling down your cheeks as the crying painfully got louder.
The demonic figure that has been haunting my sub consciousness was constantly looming over my mind and he kept on appearing in my dreams, laughing with an axe in his hand. I was infuriated by dignified rage but sadly I was powerless and overall vulnerable. Aunt Lucy then started sending me to a therapist which I genuinely thought was not effective as I was still experiencing nightmares even after a year.
Thankfully, after a few years and months, I could finally sleep again. Things got better. The sky had never been so bright. I still pray for my parents every single day and I could feel as though they are always with me whenever I do something. I get nostalgic every night but needless to say, I am happy too. Alas, when the tears dry, what’s left over is emptiness, a hollow feeling that cannot be filled.