The Silent Room

I was talking to this one ‘friend’ of mine tonight. I don’t know how I should describe us, it’s like we each have something to hide, but somehow we both know what it was without it even being spoken. We both loved this one girl, and we both knew about it when neither of us even told each other about it. But we continued to be friends. And then at one point, an odd distance started to develop between us. I’m not exactly sure why, but somehow, it feels like I know the reason. And it felt as though he understands it, too.

I don’t know if he reads this blog here, or if he follows it. But I do follow his. He, too, documents a few things about his personal life. The joy and the tears. And tonight he told me that he has changed. That has he has evolved into a new man. A new outlook on like. Starting on a new journey. Good for him, I thought.

Looking back and reflecting on past errors and mishaps isn’t exactly the most entertaining thing to do, but it does serve to bring about a heightened sense of enlightenment when you realise that you’re still here. Still alive, still kicking. And that gives me a certain sense of satisfaction, and a small burst of courage.

I detest melancholic blogs. Really, I do. I don’t like to read about how much pain you’re going through. I don’t like reading about how much you suffer your body and heart and mind for the things that have happened around you. I don’t like to read about your pain. I like to read about you. Yes, you, the person reading this right now. I want to read about you.

I can understand your need to express your frustration, the need to vent out those cooped up feelings. Things you can’t really express offline. I can understand because I do that a lot myself. But what I can’t stand is when you get so melancholic, so gothic, so suicidal, it sounds like you’re better off dead than wasting the precious oxygen on this planet. I can’t stand it when I read about your suffering, your sleepless nights, your aching body, your screaming mind. I can’t stand it because I know how it feels. And everytime I read those kind of lines my soul quivers in pain, and my heart cries out for you. And I feel sad and disheartened and helpless just as you are.

I’m not saying your style of blogging sucks. Your style of blogging is definitely good, because it fulfilled its purpose of making people feel your pain. It’s definitely powerful and effective, a quality I very much desire for myself.

I’m just saying that you should ease down on the melancholy.

We have all been through at least one heartache, and some have gone through one heartache too many. You cry over the things that you don’t have. The things you failed to do. The things that have screwed up on you. The people who screwed you over. You scream and tear at them but in the end, everytime I read those melancholic posts, they all end up the with the basically same thing: that there was nothing you can do about it, and that things aren’t going to get better.

That there is no longer hope for you to lead a more joyous life.

You know what you need? A nice tight bitchslap in face, or perhaps a stern kick in the groin. You know why? Because you’re so pent up on seeing the harsh things around you. Your eyes only see the blood and tears that they’re blinded to the raindrops and the morning dew. You’re blinded by your own torturous illusion that you fail to see the reality before you. And what exactly does reality show you, you ask?

That you’re still alive.

That you’re still alive.

Surely being alive is more significant than being dead. Surely that has to count for something. But being alive is only significant if you make an effort to live. I read about people who have been through more suffering than you have. Scars that haunt them to this very day. I have met some of those people. I have conversed with them, exchanged minds with them. You want to know them? Let me introduce to you some:

Peter suffered a spinal cord injury, and it rendered both of his legs into mere vegetables. He can’t even stand properly on his own, let alone walk or run or ride a bicycle. Do you know what it feels like to not have a pair of legs? Even worse, do you know how it feels to actually HAVE a pair of legs but you can’t use them? It’s a horrible feeling, you know. Peter could have easily given up on himself. Could have easily blamed whatever shit that has happened to him on his disadvantage. But for as long as I have followed his blog, he does not. He does not. He does not.

Despite all that suffering, what did he write about? He wrote about the joys of living. He wrote about the bliss in his faith of God. He wrote about the warmth of love. Sometimes he even writes about good food! This is one man, who despite having lost his legs and diagnosed with other diseases makes every single effort to live. This is one man who makes the fullest of his life. Living one day at a time. How very true. He definitely sees the things he doesn’t have, but has chosen to look at the things that he DOES have.

Another person of note is Lilian. She faced the death of her own son. No parent should bury their child, people say, but Lilian’s circumstances decided against that notion. Personally speaking, I can’t directly connect to the mournful feelings from the death of a child but I know that a person suffers greatly from the death of a loved one. Do I have to speak further? Go read her blog. Read about what she writes.

Though one child has went away, she still has the rest of her family. She lavishes them with the gift of selfless love, dashes it with humour, wit, and a lot of spicy penang food. Not to mention 4D numbers since she’s so damn keng at it. She still feels the pain of her son’s death from time to time, but what does she do about it? She goes a few extra miles ahead of herself, and goes to answer the calls of the many mourning mothers all over Malaysia. She gives them support and words of courage, showing them that there’re more things around them, that are still beautiful, that are still good.

The point here, is simple. You can be melancholic. But be melancholic with a cause. Shit happens. No one can deny that. But you must realize that what’s important isn’t the fact that shit has happened, or who’s fault it was, or how much damage you have sustained. What’s important is what you do about it. Complain, cry and whine, and that’s all you will ever do. That’s all you’ll ever achieve. That’s just as far as you can go.

But if you decide to stand up, and look properly at what you can see, you will realize that there’s plenty for you to do. Don’t just look at what you don’t have until you can’t see what you do have. Don’t just think about what you can’t do until you forget about what you can do. First, you decide, and then you follow through. It doesn’t take a wise man to figure that out. I want to see you write out what you want.

I want you to write about the things you want to happen. The things that can happen. The things that you can make happen. I want to read about what would make things better. What you can do to make things better. What you are doing to make things better. What you have done to make things better. I want to read about how you’re surviving the crises you’re going through. I want to read about that strength you found in yourself when you chose not to give up. I want to read about how much you’re looking forward to a happy ending, and the efforts you make to get there.

I want to read about you.

I want to read about you.