Tarnish

Photo by Aneta Ivanova

In darkness she drowned,

never to be found.

How did it started?

All she could remember

was how her life ended.

It started with curiosity,

she adventured away from her own city.

Climbed over the extreme height of walls,

that separated her and the unknown war.

"Welcome to the new world,

where floors are furnished with diamonds and pearls.

Welcome to your new home,

in here, you shall reborn."

The signboard seemed promising,

and so she went without further thinking.

She was naive, thought that she'd be free,

and the air would be easier to breathe.

Yet

she should think twice

of the price she would pay

of letting herself astray.

Like Alice in Wonderland,

her inquisitive nature ran wild.

Just with a glance,

she was mesmerized with oohs and wows.

Still, she's still too naive,

thought the colors and wonders were salvation,

instead of the real purpose of

disguising the ugly ruination.

People with smiles,

but smiles were weapons

as they're snakes with venom.

She gave out her heart,

hoping to be garnished.

Alas, her genuine soul was grayed

like silver that was tarnished.

Hurt and cheated,

alone and defeated.

Sobbed under furniture,

letting despair swallowed her.

With no one to hold,

she realized she missed home.

But she's deeply rooted,

with filthy thoughts twisting like vines around her trunk.

Their minds grew into hers,

mingled and merged,

they all became one.

It's too late to leave.

Her mind,

from selfless to selfish;

her soul,

from kindness to sadistic.

Memories of her old self,

were far too deep for her to delve.

The girl with a big heart,

had finally lost herself.

How did it started?

The darkness that left her haunted.

All she could remember,

was how her life ended.

Postscript: 

It was basically about how a girl left home in search for her own future in a brand new place, where she experienced horrible people and events disguised with glitter and gold. Her initial passion, hopes and integrity were stained by the raw and despicable side of society and humanity. After her kindness failed, she adapted to the abhorrent way of behaviours and mindset so she could survived in this new reality. However, as she succeeded by adhering to the new rules, she failed at the same time by losing her own self.

I think we can all relate to part of this somehow. After leaving the home, the heaven where our parents protect us from the real ugly truth of the real world/society, we realized how different it was from what we were taught. Even if we despised it, most of us still adhere to it to remain afloat. We all eventually became who we didn't want to be.

And okay, I know this sounds depressing but for a lot of people, this is the cold, hard truth. But yes, there are still hopes and dreams and sunshine and rainbow out there. Just look at the positive side, or stand firm on your morality and hold onto your dignity; we'd all be fine. Please don't be dispirited after this poem; it's just a poem. It's just an expression, which I made out of boredom, okay.

Just breathe, and live.

Empty

Photo by Aneta Ivanova

She felt empty.

Empty like the space which she supposed to call home.

She stared at people, 

who barely spared her any sideway glances. 

Those people who disregard their core purposes in her life.

She didn’t need them. Or did she?

Blood was indeed thicker than water; 

thick enough for her to suffocate in it.

She felt empty.

Desperate for something to fill her up, 

she crawled in misery, 

begging for attention and pity.

“Please, mom,” she begged. “Hug me and listen to me.”

“Please, dad,” she pleaded. “Come home and talk to me.”

But her words, fragile as her spirit, were never heard.

She felt empty.

Nobody listened, nobody cared.

So why would she care?

Unimportant, useless and unfit, 

she was born to be forgotten.

Her existence ceased to others, 

and slowly, it ceased to herself.

What’s the point of holding on, 

when there’s nothing for her fingers to even grasp onto?

She felt empty.

In this dark, filthy room, under this unfamiliar body, 

smelled like a mixture of sweat and cigarettes.

Concentrating on the pain that tore her body apart, 

it reminded her that she was still very much alive, 

instead of the corpse that she thought she was.

Woke up with a heavy head, 

she reached her hand to the side, 

only to feel the remaining body warmth from the stranger last night.

He left, 

and left her with the patch of harsh red

 standing out from the messy, yellowing bed sheet.

She was full for a brief night, 

but was empty the morning next.

Falling back into the piles of pillows, 

she covered her eyes, 

but didn’t manage to stop the tears from sliding down her cheeks.

She felt empty.

Every single night, she went off with a new stranger.

The one with the horrible tattoo, 

the one with a crooked smile 

and the one she had no recollection of 

because she was so intoxicated from countless bottles of alcohol.

They filled her up, but only temporary. 

So she had to find more of them.

Every single night, for a brief moment, 

she was not empty.

She felt empty.

Strangers could not satisfy her empty heart.

She craved for more.

She wanted a warm embrace,

 a kiss on her forehead 

and someone she could run to whenever she’s alone and lonely.

She wanted a safe harbor for her to quit her sails.

Was she too greedy for having such a small wish?

She felt empty.

After months of sober and solemn, 

she felt empty.

Trapped, hurt and disgusted, 

she decided it was time to let go.

Sold out everything she owned, 

she left the huge mansion 

with picture-perfect family portraits behind her.

With only money and her shattered soul,

 she left the place that broke her for an unknown destination.

With a candle-like desire, 

hoping that she could mend herself, 

and put her back whole.

She would find a new place, 

where she would finally call home.

She felt empty.

In a new town, 

with smiling faces 

and cheerful greetings from guileless folks, 

she remained silent and gloom.

The monsters inside of her was taking over, 

but with fingers pressing hard against her scalp, 

she fiercely told herself 

she was strong enough to overcome this horrendous storm.

But the fear,

 oh the fear rooted deep inside her;

 was she able to conquer it?

She felt empty.

The battle was slowly breaking her down,

 left her bleeding, 

with raw wounds that could never be heal in time.

Sweating in fear, 

gasping for air; 

oh no, was she going to surrender?

She clenched her teeth, 

with courage slowly blossoming from her inner core;

 she finally managed to get a hold onto her resilience.

After of what seemed like an eternity of inner combats, 

at last she managed to get back the dominancy in controlling herself, 

with battle scars as evidences that she survived.

She cried with her whole heart and soul, 

bursting with pride and joy.

The past that haunted her was nicely buried.

The monster inside of her was finally dead.

She was not empty.

She was sated 

as she tasted happiness for the first time

 in a very long time.

With occasional hellos and goodbyes 

from kind souls around her, 

she finally found a place that embraced her.

It was a sunny day when she picked her grocery bag

 and headed to the crowded marketplace.

Her dark hair flowed seamlessly down her waist, 

with wild flowers adorning her glowing frame. 

Her cheeks pink 

and her dewy eyes sparkled like the brightest stars above.

Whilst she was handing the note to her usual ice-cream vendor,

 a gust of wind blew her money onto the pavement.

Without a second thought, 

she slightly pulled up her ankle-length dress and bent down,

 but only to touch the back of another hand.

The warmth from another’s skin caught her by surprise.

 She looked up, 

only to fall deep into a pair of deep, ocean blue eyes.

How odd, she thought, that a color so cold could make her felt so warm.

He gave her a fond smile, 

and she returned a sheepish grin 

which deepened her sweet dimples.

“Isaiah,” he handed back the note to her. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

That was the moment where she felt like she was home.

She was not empty.

She was full, and filled with love.

 Love from him, love from people around her, 

and most importantly, love from herself.

She had a family, she had a home.

She had everything she craved and longed for.

She was no longer empty.

Mediocre

Is being mediocre a curse or a blessing? 

Who is to define mediocre? Who are the mediocre people?

The people who aren't the top 1% IQ-wise? The people who don't earn millions and billions of dollars? The people who are not popular on social media?

Ask a hundred people, and you will probably get back a hundred different answers.

Why? Simple.

It is because mediocrity stems from comparison. 

And let me ask you a quick question:

What do you compare yourself with others? 

For me, I tend to compare with people who are smarter than me, prettier than me and also, richer than me. Do I ever compare myself with people who are more extrovert? No. I don't feel the need to, because I'm satisfied with being an introvert — or more precisely, an ambivert (and yes, I'm envisioning how do I look like as a frog because amphibians, but that's completely beside the point).

But why? Why do I compare myself with others on some factors but not others?

The answer, again, is very straightforward.

I only compare myself on factors that I truly and deeply care about, and notice something important? I only compare those factors with people who are better than me, instead of the other way round. For me, my main concerns are on my studies (typical Asian), my appearance and also my financial status (which directly affect my life condition, because hey, crying in a BMW is better than crying on a BMX. Nah, I'm joking. No actually, I'm not). And me being an anti-socialist, basically couldn't care more about being an extrovert that likes to mingle around people, joining camp activities and surrounding their lives around clubs and societies. Therefore, I do not even bother to compare myself with them and I would just feel different, but never mediocre around them.

Okay, I might just feel dizzy and uncomfortable because I really, really hate people, but that's beside the point.

We tend to compare ourselves to other people who are better than us on factors that we really care about because deep down, we really hope that we are the best in what we really like and want. Comparing yourself with people who are weaker than you is a futile act, as it does not help in making you feeling superior, because you already know that the factors you're comparing with are not their strengths, and thus what you obtained from them are not valid. But, comparing people who are better than you, you already have the pre-knowledge of the person's superiority in this area. You would either consciously or subconsciously compare yourself with that person because you know, deep-down inside, you know that if you, by some miracle, turn out to be better than that person, the satisfaction you obtained is so much more gratifying than comparing someone who is inferior to you.

Sounds messy and complicated? No worries, let me use one of my real-life examples to dumb it down for you.

During my Form 4 and Form 5 years, I took up Literature in English and boy, I was in love with the subject itself. Since I was so obsessed with that subject, it was only normal that I placed strong focus on my results (again, typical Asian). There were other smart students in the class, and even if I wanted to stop myself from comparing, I couldn't help but to subconsciously compare my results with the other smart kids. Even if I got 90 marks, I would not feel the gratification unless I was the highest mark in class. If there's someone who got 92 marks when I got 90 marks, I would somewhat felt disappointed and inferior, even though 90 marks was already an A+. It was because the results were proofs of my capability in the subject, and I naturally want to be the best in what I love.

However, in real life situation, it is really hard to win over those who are more superior to you, because their superiority might not just depends on hardwork, but also talent. The moment you realized you are the losing party out of the comparison is the moment inferiority hits you hard in the guts. That's the moment you'll feel like you're just mediocre. You're not good enough and you're nothing good.

Even though your outcome is actually very good (re: my stupid real-life experience above), you will still feel mediocre due to the comparison made. 

As mediocre is subjective, your mediocrity might be others' excellency. You just have to see it in a new light, and congratulate yourself on your hardwork and success. Even if you really fail, treat it as an experience in learning. After all, who doesn't fail in certain parts of life at certain point in life?

Being "the best" should not be our focus, but being "our best" should be.

However, is being mediocre good or bad?

Let's forget all the standards discussed above on mediocrity, because mind you, it really is subjective. Let's discuss this according to the dictionary's definition of mediocre:

1. of only ordinary or moderate quality; neither good nor bad; barely adequate

2. not satisfactory; poor; inferior

Okay, so maybe you're not mediocre by your own terms, but by how society views you. Let's say, Jane Doe is a really, really average girl. Super duper mediocre. Middle child, middle ranking in class, average looking — the kind of girl who will blend in with the walls without trying. Is being mediocre good or bad for Jane Doe?

Well, I can't say for Western cultures because I know nothing apart from the internet, but I can say that being mediocre is kind of bad in the Asian context. Even if Jane Doe happens to have really open-minded parents that stand behind her every single decision, and do not have high expectations or unfulfilled dreams for Jane Doe to follow through; there are still other people judging her mediocrity, namely — the relatives. 

They'll judge you on every fiber, every single minor aspects of your life. Sometimes they mean good, but sometimes they just treat you as entertainment. If you're smart and pretty, they'll say that you'll have great prospects in life. But what if you're like Jane Doe, an average little girl with no special attributes? Gawd, you'll then hate whenever the relatives flood into your living room like tsunami.

"Jane Doe you only get 5 Cs and 4 Ds for your exams? Why (insert name here) can get straight A+?"

"Jane Doe, you should take up makeup and dieting! See, your cousin is so much prettier than you!"

"Ha, my son is going to represent the country for (insert competition here)... What about you Jane Doe? Oh, you're never qualified to enter any major competitions? Too bad."

The worst thing is not the comparison. The absolute worst thing about mediocre is that they'll attribute your "failures" or your "averageness" to your inability to work hard. That you're too lazy, and that's why you can't hit the top.

In some cases, that might be true. But what if you already do your best, and what you obtain is your best? And people are still blaming "your best" onto you being a slacker? That you should definitely work harder, and harder and even harder in order to reach the top.

It's like swimming without knowing where the shore is, and you're starting to run out of breath.

It's absolutely absurd for most Asians to actually just focusing on just being the best and be on the absolute top. Why focus so much on being superior on other people when you can be your very best? And what's wrong with that very best being just mediocre? Is that a bad thing?

There's no ending to "work harder". There's no ending to strive harder. There's always someone out there, better than you in some ways. And with the traditional "Asian thinking" of fighting mediocre through tons and tons of hard work, it's just going to drain yourself empty eventually. Hard work is undeniably important, but hard work is not used to combat mediocrity; it is supposed to be a way to be responsible to your life.

Mediocre can be good.

This is because once you accept you're mediocre, you won't be trapped by the obsession of just wanting to be at the top of the food-chain. It's neither giving up nor an excuse to stop trying. You can still try when you're mediocre in things you like, but you will have a better and healthier attitude in facing failures.There might be a slight chance you'll be at the top, but mostly importantly, you're doing what you like without the constant pressure of self-doubting that you're not good enough. Instead of stress, you gain passion.

Most often times, it's the moment that you stop focusing and obsessing over being the best, you'll shine by being your best. You feel free, without all those anchors holding you down. You can feel happy as you allow those simplicity in life to unfold. You will start notice details in your life where you didn't have time before to notice. It's like a taking a much-needed breather.

Mediocrity isn't bad; it just means that you're in the middle ground of two extremes.

Think about it, we are all on a normal distribution graph, where most of us fall near the mean (the average). If being mediocre is bad and is shameful, then how would most people live?

Being mediocre is not shameful and it's not a curse.

It's because of our attitudes, beliefs and perceptions that make us think that being mediocre is nothing to be proud of. We are conditioned to think that only the best should be celebrated, and being mediocre is just... meh.

However, imagine a world where everyone gets to be best. Wouldn't then everyone become mediocre too? Because with everyone being good, there's no comparison and basically we are all just average. As much as I wish to be the best at the things I crave for, I shudder at the thought of everyone being at the top. By then there would be no distribution curve, but rather a huge block with "average" written on it.

Since everyone already has the same ending waiting for them at the end of their life (death, if you don't get it), just use the limited time on hand doing what you like without overly-pressuring yourself to be not mediocre.

I know it's easier to say than to be done, but it's a learning progress, and I'm willing to learn.

I hope you do so too.

So, is mediocre a curse or a blessing?

To me, mediocrity is a blessing in disguise.

We just need the right vision to be able to see it.

xx

PS: can you believe I actually got the idea of writing this blog post because I watched back my old videos and had a major cringe-fest as I can't believe I actually had the guts and decency to put up something that mediocre for the internet to see. Like, Maggie, look at others' videos quality and content and their talents. What are you compare to them?

But well, because of that, I had an eureka-moment that so what I'm mediocre? At least I'm trying, and I'm happy to do what I'm passionate about... and isn't that the most important thing?

Right?

Right?

I guess this entire post is basically just me trying to console my stupid ego, but hey at least it's a useful post.

Versace On The Floor (Cover) | Maggie Chyi Chyi

Hello people!

I know I've been gone for a really long time, and there's a lot of thoughts and moments I wanna share, also lots of ideas that I wanna work on for this blog.

However, all of that can wait as I'm currently going to "refurnish" my blog.

I'm also planning to break down all of my experiences and thoughts for the past 10 months (if I'm not mistaken) into a few blog posts so that I won't get incoherent in my writings.

In the meantime, do enjoy my new cover and I hope you guys really enjoy it! 

I'll see you guys real soon!

xx

Love

Learning to love,

but tragedies still occur.

Oh, silly girl,

thought she'd learn

from all the heartbreaks

that sparkle no concerns.

Trying to twirl,

but ended in a whirl. 

What is life?

When everything's a blur.

Thus,

stitch her up with words,

so the raw edges won't burn.

As love,

is something she shouldn't yearn.

x

(Hint: someone will be back soon.)

(Hint hint: it's me!)