There’s people talking
They talk about me
They know my name
They think they know everything
But they don’t know anything
Listening to this song of Hillary Duff entitled Wake up reminds me of memories forged once upon a time or perhaps until now? People are sometimes curious about a lot of things but instead of asking, they tend to make their own story based on their very own observation. Yes, they are applying those steps in the research techniques that they’d learned in the class- make a null hypothesis, observe, analyze and interpret it.
Most of the time I can only sigh after listening to their lists of null hypotheses about me but when they’re hurt just because they don’t really understand me, I can also feel the stabbing pain in me. There’re certain parts of my life that I can only share with a few people that I am comfortable with and I really hope whatever I said is suffice for them to reject their null hypotheses but people tend to ignore whatever I said and stick to their null hypotheses and it’s very depressing to acknowledge this fact.
Besides, it’s me. I am everything I am- furtive and surreptitious. The past had taught me well to keep everything to my own. I am not trying to be a masochist or a superwoman that tries to endure every single pain by myself but if that what it takes to make everybody around me happy and healthy, I will be just fine to go through with it. I wish to share a lot of things with people but I can’t.
I used to share everything with mom and dad – the boon and the bane of life but a parents is always a parents. They will sick worrying about their child and in the past when they’re worried about me, I’ll be very happy knowing that it’s mere love that bring them to that that state but now as they’re getting older, they’re not as healthy as they used to be few decades ago, especially dad. Imagine sometimes when some of my siblings slip something about any of us having some troubles or sick, his blood pressure raises up to the level beyond healthy even for geriatric. (and he even tries not to tell us about his health too, afraid that we’ll worry about him. To that I will say, this attitude really runs in the blood)
The situation has shaped my attitude – secretive and taciturn.
I started not to become open with almost everybody but certain people, like my elder brother, knows how to deal with me very well. He knows how to make me speak up my mind. When everybody even though sometimes my mom, believe in what I said, he sometimes is very hard to convince. He always knows every time I said I’m ok it means otherwise. He knows every time I laugh a lot and trying to be happy it means I’m so deeply sad with something. He knows how to get the answer without forcing me. He knows how to make me slip it accidentally.
I wish so much to find a guy like him- someone who knows how to break the partition that I build in between me and the world because me, even me, have no idea how to destroy it.
So, stop saying that I’m unfriendly or aloof because this is me. Taciturn is part of me.
p/s= I have no idea why I wrote this piece. I was just doodling – if doodling can be done through typing.