I think that love is in the mug of hot chocolate you serve yourself with when you feel like you have to spend some time alone with your couch, sweatshirt, and sweat pants, while reading a book on a Friday night.

Love is accepting that your closest friends might not always understand the person that you've become; that they will be there to listen for as long as they can and understand the things you are doing, but no one else but you, can absolutely tolerate yourself.

It is that feeling when you reconnect with an old friend from almost a decade ago, because you are able to evaluate the past and the kind of people you both were from the point of view of the present.

Needing someone is love, but when you've given in to this weakness of emotionally depending on others, you are just setting yourself up for disappointment. This is not always the case, of course. Though, for the times that it is applicable, and you've learnt to deal with letting go of this kind of pain, that is love.

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Real affection can sometimes come from distancing yourself from those you love, but not everyone can understand this. It is not logical. If you are going through a problem and you want to deal with it all by yourself, you can. If you choose to implode or explode, may it be the choice that will make you stronger, as long as you are not hurting the people around you, most especially yourself.

Love is truly accepting the person that pain, loneliness, and depression have made you evolve into. It will be quite difficult, but coming to terms with things you never thought you would do, and truly forgiving yourself for them, will indeed make you stronger.

For the time being, listening to one of Mando Diao's songs, entitled "Dance With Somebody", is what I would call love. Yes, I want to blast this song through my speakers on a quiet Sunday afternoon and wake everyone up from their naps to start dancing, but I will not do that because it is not logical. 

Not everyone will understand it, and not everyone can accept it.

A couple of years ago, I would have been enraged by what happened today. 

Let me first just try to explain what I think about stereotypes, and the endless amount of people who just would not do away with both. Although these are two separate things, I believe that there is not much difference between them.

For me, stereotyping others can be compared to a meringue cake with two layers. The base having vanilla cake, fruit salad that has been soaked in sugar, and whipped cream. The top would only have plain store-bought meringue. It's a load of trouble for your blood sugar level, cheap, and eating it would do you more harm than good BUT you eat it anyway.

I am currently taking English lessons for reasons I cannot mention, but let me just say that it is not because I need the subject (at least I hope not). Let us just say that I need the curriculum points the English class is equivalent to, plus the fact that it actually is an interesting subject.

Anyway, we were asked to read George Orwell's "Animal Farm". Last week, I reserved half a day for reading the entire book in one sitting, while taking notes. In class today, we were grouped and given questions to further discuss it. There came a point when I glanced on my notes to refer to something, and I felt my group mates turn silent. I assumed that they were probably wondering why I had notes in the first place.

"I had time," said I, smiling slyly while flipping through the book, trying to "break the ice". 

One of my Swedish classmates asked, "Don't you have kids?"

A couple of years ago, I would have definitely been enraged, yes...but not now. 

Hopefully, not any time in the future.

Asians in this part of the world are infamous in a way that they come to Scandinavia to hitch on their boyfriends' money and benefits; have kids with them, and receive money the government gives to their citizens (they would earn this money through their children who receive financial support from the country). While it would seem negative to other Caucasians at this part of the world, it really is not as bad as it looks because some couples actually love each other and want to start a family together.

On the other side of being Asian, there are also those who actually work hard to have a career, and who take courses to update themselves on the current trends in their areas of expertise before and/or while starting a family.

Then, I just kept asking myself why I did not get mad. Have I been accustomed to this or did I simply get older? That's a possibility, of course. Maybe, I was also more understanding of the Asian stereotypes some Caucasians still have of us. 

Either way, it felt great that I was more concerned of the reason why I did not get mad at that comment than getting mad at it as a reaction.

I also found it hilarious that she was more interested to know if I had kids than noticing how I am able to properly answer most of the questions in the group discussion.

"Not yet...?", I replied curtly.

...it would have left a trail from the kitchen to the office in our house. Splatters from the keyboard where I wrote articles all day and coded websites at the same time, to the kitchen sink where I refilled my glass with water for the thousandth time.

If my fingers could bleed, it would have smeared creases of blood on my forehead, dried stains on top of the other, for the countless times I tried to massage it to ease off my headaches.

If my fingers could bleed, I would have curved a red line from my chest to my hips to show myself in the mirror how much weight I would have lost had I been training instead of studying without end in front of the computer.

If my fingers could bleed, I might have probably expressed this with my own blood. My fingers bleeding a little bit more each time they touched the paper to write these words.

But they are not bleeding, Thank God.

It was a time in my life where the only strength I had were of prayers and words, and I used it well.

Reading back to those entries, it made me realize how far I have gone, and how much pain there have been. It almost felt like a lifetime ago. In fact, half a decade ago. The nauseating part was realizing how much of the vibrance and confidence I had had also faded.

It almost feels like those words were not mine at all, an entirely different being. Back then, I wrote those words, and it gave me the flair I needed to get back on my feet and not lose sight of what should be. I read the same words this morning, and it reminded me of that spark. 

My words fail me nowadays, and it does not comfort me as it used to. I do not believe enough anymore: in myself, in my words. Maybe because my old self had strength, and persistence against contentment. 

Lately, all I did was be contented. Maybe it was age, because one has to learn how to calm down somehow.

The imminent pain is within. Before, I had the entirety of myself fighting against the flow of negativity around me. With the changes in culture, language, and people, I was forced to develop myself and almost lose my mind in the vast need of adjusting in. The only thing I am afraid of is that I end up never recovering from that.

There is struggle from all directions: against being stereotyped, against the norms. The fight to retain the right kind of knowledge where it should be kept flowing, even when there is never enough most of the time. Sometimes, even against racism. Can you believe that? At this age and time. 

My perspective is wider and more understanding than I thought I ever was, and I still fear that I might have probably lost myself in it. 

I always love a good challenge, and a lot has happened over the years. They changed me in an unfathomable sense I still cannot recover from, but I am in a happier place now. That part I am not complaining about. Then again, who said I was complaining in the first place?

And it's a sorry, frightful thing
when you want to cry, but you can't keep from laughing.

- Deb Talan, "Tell Your Story Walking" 

Kept in silence, and imprisoned from the world: here is part of what I have been working on.

This blog, and whatever you can call these things I am studying right now.

Working hard to have a new job title, a new experience. Two more languages to learn, the other not necessarily used verbally.

A wider view of greener pastures that never seemed to be green enough, especially if one is living in a country where it pretty much snows all the time. Not lately, but summer is still pretty cold sometimes. It feels like the branches and the plants would wither anytime. Paranoia? Yada yada yada.

Whatever comes out of it, we shall all see.

If I get hitched in a job in less than a year, then it would have been all worth it. Otherwise...well, there shouldn't really be any other outcome.

...complexity in life that one has to live by and something that wants to be undealt with, all the time. I know, nobody said it was easy but until when are you supposed to be fighting? Always. What happens if you run out of morale? Ended up in a job you said was temporary, and was still unable to find a better job in a span of one year. I have NO RIGHT to complain, I get that. Most people have it worse than I. Having no right to complain does not make it any easier, tho.

...resolve after going home, and back. Despite the next new year's celebration being 11 months away, you start to feel good about yourself. You end up remembering who you are, and what you are. The best part is remembering what you are worth, and that mind set you grew up with knowing you can STILL be whatever and whoever you want to be, whenever. That is, despite being a bit communicationally-challenged for the time being.

...degree of happiness and tolerance that one seems to mistake for one another. There is a certain realization of how the word "difficult" is redefined in ways you have never imagined before, and how one should be able to surpass it if one wants to be happy, to say the least.

...claim to sanity after everything you have been through. That even from how comfortable you were where you came from, you can still be humbled by people of different races and cultures, amongst other things. You take a deep breath, and hold on to the reality that this is just going to be one of those nightmares you will wake up from, some few months, or even weeks, from now.

Their howls are sending chills down my spine
They're coming down the hills from behind
From the nightmare we've created,
I want to be awakened somehow


~Within Temptation
 "The Howling"

• Have I achieved what I wanted to become?
• Did my decisions put me in a better place than the year before?
• Do I remain to be apathetic as a means of coping with certain sadness?
• What have I done that really mattered?
• Do I feel fulfilled?