24 hours. The net was down for 24 hours. To top that off…I had lab reports to finish. Now will you believe me when I say that for some reason things happen in my life are too much in an order to just be mere coincidences. This is the 5th time this has happened within the semester. Always happening on the eve of me completing my assignments.
That why I keep telling you this is my life.
It’s funny when I look at things in my life. Or at least…I try and tell myself it’s funny.
All this time, ever since I was young. I never had much friends to count on. I never had people who always stuck by me especially when I needed them the most. Whether by choice of fate. I always lose the people that I always was with. People who I have called friends and a rare few…even more than that. But the outcome is still the same.
I always stand alone in the end.
I remember sitting down on my doorway crying when I was about 3 or 4 because my mother would let me go out to play with my neighbours. I remember when I eventually could…he was moved away soon enough…leaving me to sit by the doorway again with the metal grill between me and the world I desperately wanted to be part off.
I remember being in chinese primary school. Being the odd one out because at that point, I was the only malay in a chinese school. I remember being picked on by the other students and even at one point my teacher. It didn’t matter that I tried my best and got from the last class to the first.
It just made things worse.
People beat me up more. My parents would demand more from me. I never for once felt as if I belonged anywhere. I fell in spirit and grades as fast as I gained them because…how could a child feel happy when there was no love to be shown for? No…place to feel comforted.
I remember starting high school. Being in a room surrounded by people who were of my own but at the same time so different. People who’s language I was native to but never mastered. After so long trying to fit into a world I wasn’t part off. I forgotten a world I was supposed to be born into.
Nothing else helped as well.
No one else was any less merciful.
Isolated from the people I was used to being with and ostrasized by the people I was with. Friends came and went like the crashing of waves on the beach. I would always feel happy when I was with people…but always missed the point that they were with me because they wanted something. Always the one never called. Always the one talked behind the back.
I remember the blood that was spilled…whether by others or my own hand. I remember the blood spilled was always mine to bear. I remember never asking why this happened to me. I remember that very well. I never did ask God why I bear this fate those many years ago.
Only recently I started that.
I always used to bare it in the silent anger and frustration I always have. Taking the good parts in stride always clinging on to the last shreds of happiness that I had.
Maybe that’s why I was born.
Born from the determination to always want be accepted by the world. Born with the optimism I never got from anyone else except from my own isolated torment over the years. Born to always work toward just having someone to be there not just for you…but with you. Someone to smile and hold your shoulder when the chips are down.
Born to give people what I couldn’t have all these years. To give people what seems fated I can never have for as long as I live. If I couldn’t be accepted for who I am or repected for what I am. Then at least let me go down being remembered for what I could do. If that is a purpose to life then I cannot live it any other way but the choice I make to deal with the things I have lived through.
To always be there for someone…with someone.
Always there to hold your shoulder when the chips are down.
Always there to smile.
Hmmm…I don’t think it’s funny anymore.