As I’m feeling indignant (and slightly petty) over some academics issue, I think hard about why a seemingly nice guy can also be such a selfish prick. I’ve always believed in helping others and they will help you in return. Not that I help others because I want them to owe me one and get something in return. No, definitely not that. It’s just, I don’t get how some asswipes can be so ungrateful. But anyway, that’s not what I wanted to say..
I’ve been conducting surveys, participating in surveys, thanks to all the ongoing literature reviews and research papers.. And there’s this really weird unexplainable feeling and it’s going to sound stupid but I must say, I really do enjoy filling in surveys. Not those ‘rate so and so’, ‘choose from 1 to 5’ kind of nonsense. But those kind of open-ended surveys that make you think about you and the people around you. By filling in the blanks, I find myself thinking about my life and how my actions and words have possibly impacted other people’s lives. I think about my last conversations with them, was I being nice? Was I being mean? Have I showed them concern? Do I know how they are doing now? I think of what I want, what I need, and even try so hard to crack open my unconscious mind.
Then… I just read this FB status about 5 minutes ago.. Have you been too busy that you’ve neglected the people whom you love? When was the last time you told them you love them and how much they mean to you..? I feel this guilt tapping on my back because I know I haven’t actually been telling the people around me how I feel about them.. And it’s just so difficult because I haven’t been raised in an environment whereby people express their emotions frequently. We just don’t say it.. It’s going to be so awkward if I suddenly go up to my parents, and thank them for everything for the past 19 years..
And that doesn’t mean I don’t feel grateful for everything they have done.. Right or wrong, good or bad. It’s so saddening whenever I think about the inevitable ending that everyone has to go through. It’s like you don’t want to face it but ultimately, you know that the truth would catch up and confront you.
At times, I feel like beating myself up, thinking why am I born in such environment whereby if I don’t express my inner feelings, it’s as though I can’t be bothered or don’t feel. But I know that’s not the case.. Sometimes even actions, don’t seem to be enough because some how, the things you do just never do please others anyway.
I guess in a way, the kind of life I’ve been living and relationships with people I’ve had and am having makes me feel that if I were to have children, I must put in the effort, to have this open and honest relationship with them. I want them to know that their mummy is also their friend and they can confide in her. I don’t want them to think that the house is a mere shelter, it’s not a home. It’s not just a place they return to from school. It’s not just a place where they sleep for the night and have no attachments to it. Nope, I won’t let things be like that.