It never did occur to me all this while. No, that’s not it. It DID occur to me, quite a few times, if I may say so…

There was a time when I had no idea what I went to school for. Probably the only reason that kept me going was that it would keep my parents from being noisy about it. Meeting friends was a plus, too, but then again, I’m not exactly the type to hang around in a big group of friends like most people do. Not to say that I’m unsociable or a loner or anything.

[I was an evil prefect, with long hair, wore a few silver rings and always covered up for delinquents, lol. I'm quite popular around the teacher's room, too, participating in inter-school debates, quizzes and what not.]

It’s just that, meeting friends wasn’t a real drive to get me going to school. I never really was in a particular circle of friends, anyway.

Of course, the above only applied to the second half of my secondary school years, as I was in a boarding school before Dad pulled me out [for embarassing reasons that I refuse to discuss here :p].

I went through some difficulty with PMR* since I registered for it at the boarding school, yet I’m taking it at a daily school. I had to make a couple of visits to the boarding school again [all the way in Kedah] to get over some matters dealt with. It was during one of those visits that something appeared in my life. I was cleaning out my locker when I found a book lying on top of it. I never noticed it, before, I would guess that someone must have put it there.

The front cover was missing [and has been ever since], but its inlay beheld a very interesting title, written in big, bolded, capitalised block letters;

SEE YOU AT THE TOP
by Zig Ziglar

I had no idea what it’s about. I can’t even judge it by its cover since it was missing [okay, lame joke, I know, get out of here], but I picked it up anyway. It was almost as though the book called out to me. I didn’t really have the time to flick through it, but out of instinct I just shoved it into my bag and made my way out of the dorm.

I didn’t open the book until PMR was over, and I was unpacking my bags.

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I’m planning some changes come next trimester. It is, after all, the new academic year. What with my scholarship status [I'm such a terrible failure] and my own personal dilemmas. It’s not yet finalised so I’m not prepared to discuss it here with you. Suffice to say, that whatever it may seem to look like, I can’t help but think that it’s just me attempting to run away.

I’d like to say that it’s desire for a change of environment. Going around the boulder to get past it instead of attempting to smash my way through. But I have to admit, the main reason behind these changes are, in fact, that I want to escape from a few things. These things are supposed to be elements that should assist me in my journey, but alas, from what has been happening, they have been all but obstructions. Pegs that catch on and tug me back. I have to rid myself of them.

Perhaps this is just me being selfish all over again. But no, there’s more than just selfishness at work here. I can’t bear being something I’m not. At present, there are things that I do some people just fail to accept. I, for one, have long accepted the fact that your mind will never work the same way as mine. I don’t mind that you don’t - and probably won’t - understand me. Just… don’t tell me I’m wrong.

I spend enough time scolding myself and have given up feeling depressed. Being depressed sucks. I escape depression as soon as I can. It feels much better to be cheery despite the amount of shit that has hit the fan. Don’t go telling me how you felt when you went through shit; I don’t want to know. Why? Because you suck at trying to stay in control when someone hits the panic button.

You raise your voice, you point fingers, and you just won’t shut up. In the end, when you get that high blood pressure thing, EVERYONE POINTS THEIR FUCKING FINGERS AT ME. I just stayed quiet. I refuse to say a single word. I pretended I didn’t have ears. For a few moments I stared into nothing. Nobody’s yelling at me. Nobody’s pointing at me. Nobody’s looking at me.

You might say I’m being in denial. That’s probably true. But one thing is for sure, I’m not the one getting burned up and pissed off about the whole issue. If something that happened really was my fault, I’ll admit to it. I make mistakes, lots of it. I don’t, however, let my mistakes bother me. I’d rather worry about how to do right thing than worry about how to avoid the wrong thing. Unfortunately, you don’t work that way. You look at what’s wrong, you pinpoint the cause, and you start with your shit on it. Thank you for solving the problem, Freud.

You wanna know why I don’t want to go on a vacation with you? Because I don’t want you holding me back from enjoying myself. That’s all.

Yeap, I’d rather go and be alone, at peace with the person who understands me the most - me.

Change is good. I’ll make some changes, soon. Very soon.