how many sayings are there.

the fog has been lifted.

the unknown has become the known.

doesnt matter. theres the general gist.

for now i see things differently. temporary? maybe. but permanently is what i aim for.

that part feels like its been torn off, and although i want it back in some perverse way, i also want to stomp it in the ground, tearing it up in the most vicious way.

do you get the feeling, that you want to know something. this... void. you make your assumptions about it, worst case scenarios included. but when you know the truth, you just wish you never found out in the first place. when the unknown has become the known and there is no way to ever forget. it all feels so real when its confirmed. so black and white. and it feels a lot worse then when you were just imagining 'what if'.

you will only know when i dont care anymore. so it'll be too late.

Today feels a little weird. 

every asian child should know the meaning of this word, and how important it is to asian parents.

How can you be like that. I got no more face.

how i used to, and still do hate that word. why is it important to be better than someone else's child? why is it not enough to live your own life, make your own mistakes and deal with it. no, i dont want to be a doctor, i dont want to be an engineer. i dont want to be someone i am not. graduate and earn lots of money. money. is it worth it if im stuck doing what i dont want to do for the sake of money? my unhappiness and unsatisfaction for money. i have first-handedly seen how money controls people and ruins families. it breeds selfishness, greed, and for some reason, thriftiness. frugality. i still see super-rich people leeching off others because they dont like to 'spend their own money'. everyone knows i love money. but i hate spending it. 'but its not even your money, its your parents.' To me, that doesnt make a difference, i have just been brought up with that way of thinking. and eventually, their money, will be my, and my siblings, money.

which reminds me sadly, how cheap life is. literally. you pay a person a sum of money, and boom, someones life is gone. the sum can even be in a figure of hundreds. imagine, your life valuing to 3 digits.

My mum shared a story with us when she got back from holiday. A person was retelling her a story of someone they knew. for the sake of easy story telling, theres father A and father B.

Father A had a 16 year old son that made Father B's daughter pregnant. Father B's and wife went to talk to father A about the son's actions. The son arrogantly told his own father, 'don't worry about it, i'll handle it'. naturally, what can a 16 year old do. Pretty much nothing. guessing hes spoilt too. one day, a group of people climbed over the fence of Father A's house. Father A runs out, wife and child follows. A man just went up to him, and chopped his head off. In front of the wife and child. Can you imagine that? seeing your husband/father just losing his life in a second in such an inhumane way. They then held up a knife to the wife's neck, but another child that was in the house came out, saw what was happening and ran back in , presumably calling for help, and so the people left.

I felt pretty bad when i heard this. just imagining what if it happened to me? I would have no idea how to live seeing that scene. Even though in my family, we don't show signs of affection, we werent the huggy huggy 'how was your day' 'darling' 'sweetie' kind of family, but i have complete faith that no matter what trouble i get into, everyone will do whatever they can to get me out of it.

when i got into my accident, i wasnt thinking about the pain. mostly anyway. i was mostly sad and angry at myself and thinking about what my parents would do/say. i was too afraid to call them and so i called my brother instead. honestly at that point, i didnt know what they would or could do. parents already preplanned to go back to malaysia 5 days later and unable to get flights out to phuket, and bought an immediate ticket for my brother who arrived the same night. he walked in, took a look at my leg, barely spoke to me, but he spent 2 nights on that small couch barely big enough for him sleeping. he walked out to buy me kfc when i wasnt eating. i couldnt ask him to do anymore for me. i felt like i didn't deserve to ask for help, i felt like i needed to go through the pain to make up for it, i cant cheat. i never took any painkillers outside the operation, and i never asked for help going to the toilet, even though getting out of the bed and hopping there was near impossible and possibly the most painful thing i have ever had to go through in my life, apart from them lifting up my flesh to vacuum out bits of sand. yumyum. the only time he had ever been to phuket, and all he saw was the airport, the hospital, and the shopping center next door. and even though ive never said thank you [ we arent a family to express all that niceties to each other, its not that we are all rude, we just...know it? ] i dont know what i would have done without him there.

unconditional love, the only love that you can always count on forever.