Times when people try to bully another for reasons misunderstood. Human as we are we get affected to some point yet I believed the best idea to hang on is "to him much is given to him much is required". Personally when I am confronted with unpleasant circumstances I tell myself I need to thank the people concern as they remind me I am alive, feeling and thinking.
By default, ladies are to be decent in appearance, courteous in speech and respectful in actions. More, education has added several items for expectation like being smart with our decisions and being able to tame our emotions. Meaning ladies understand poise and have class and distinction. Having explored a foreign land has taught me deeper insights about survival enhancing my very own self esteem which surely challenges the weaklings and teases the untamed instinct of the ignorants. It can be boring to the spiritually dead with mental lapses as well.
The first time I was bullied by a huge, ugly and loud woman - I simply took my ground, said nothing but fixed sharp glances straight into her eyes. Keeping my ground was just to tell her that I am not at all scared by her size - silence to warn her of the many things I know and fixing the sharp stare to say I will see you again someday, somewhere for whatever reason and then we ended up in friendship. Another time was by an all knowing, noisy and restless woman who tried to impress everyone not knowing that I was the one auditing her deficiencies. By then I tried to teach her a lesson by dutifully doing her idea and let her eat it back by letting her do all the consequences of it. Too bad she was too immature to realize we have mastered almost every corner of our job when she was only experimenting with her whims and caprices.
One time my man friend told me that I was being very possessive and demanding. Before I went to sleep I thought about it and tried to reconcile the possibility of truth in it. I realized I was getting everything I wanted and feeling very comfortable with our relationship I wanted it to last. Wanting him with me all the time was some kind of dependence I had developed that losing him would cause much pain when we need to part ways. Somehow, I come to think if I want everyone to be happy, maybe it was best to just enjoy every moment of the relationship and just let go when its time to break apart. Just the thought of break up still hurts me but nothing on this world lasts and that is one reality in life I need to face. If I worry now - I will miss the possibility of happy times together as I am being suffocating. To me I believe it is wisdom and wisdom made me quiet, calm and tamed.
On the other hand is the child in every individual. The child that is blind, compulsive and obsessive. There is the child that is helpless and insecure and always scared and fighting. There is the child that is stubborn, selfish and deaf yet wanting for love, acceptance and recognition for their laziness, unreliability and stupidity. The child who is childish and refuses to learn. An entity that is hopeless and ridiculous to believe it is joy to be a burden.
With this thing in mind, I could only shrug my shoulder and smile. I have a choice and how lucky I am to be educated and tamed to learn to act professionally. I can not go down the drains and lose my dignity with a miserable bully. Friends do not be bullied nor be a bully and that is regardless of your stature, skin or accent !
24 June, 2010
07 June, 2010
THE BOOK I READ :
An acquaintance once gave me a book. The title was interesting although the cover was weird. Simply because it was given to me by someone who alledged that she has read some parts of it and was thinking that it would suit me I thought that the book could possibly reflect an aspect of the giver which was more to the spiritual side of things.
When I started to browse on the initial phrases of the text I was laughing at what I once regard as a humour of the story. I was not particularly impressed especially that I have particular distaste on anything diabolical which was on its cover. However cliches like: do not judge a book by its cover played into my thoughts. Perusing it further I realized that indeed it contained some odd ideas - however for the time that I have spent on it and the few laughs that it gave me I decided to flipped further into the pages trying to see the author rather than the book itself.
As a book I come to think that the story merely reflect the author's sad experiences. Perhaps, the author merely wrote a message that he wanted the readers to understand but does not necessarily mean he wanted it for himself. The chapters went through to the bizarre and cheap truths about sexual laxity and adverse corruption of morality, harassment, promiscuity, sexual diseases and psychological illness. Much as I felt I had too much information to finish reading the book - I felt a strong bond with the author that I wanted to read more not to find out what was being said but hoping to know the author better.
The author had a very shattered self esteem. I realized that much as the author has the potential to act smart and respectable he definitely wanted to play tough and rough. Despite several options he chose the breed of violence, laziness, arrogance, insensitivity, irresponsibility and unreliability. I have read lies, conceit beyond par, maddening illusions and void spiritual existence. Before I could finish the final chapter of the saga - I closed the book - looked back through the times I had diligently and dutifully tried to reach out for that piece of crap that stuck me for 22 months.
I looked at myself in the mirror and saw my own reflection. I was stunned - the image of a weary woman, the painful look in the eyes with dark patches of eyebags - in horror I asked myself - did I hear myself swearing with anger and hurt getting affected with what I read ??? Where had the spirit people see to be neat and sweet gone ? Oh dear, I could only feel I cheated and deserted my own self - but again I asked - for what good reason do I need to come across THE BOOK ?
The night was so late I climbed to bed and covered my head with the heaviest pillow and cried silently determined that in the morning I will find better things to do. The day was not promising and the weather forecast was horrible but I chucked my camera inside my bag donned on my black esprit and levis and headed for a flight. Coming out of the plane the night drama was camouflaged by Oakley and in the cheerful hugs of friends built the strength to smile again.
When I started to browse on the initial phrases of the text I was laughing at what I once regard as a humour of the story. I was not particularly impressed especially that I have particular distaste on anything diabolical which was on its cover. However cliches like: do not judge a book by its cover played into my thoughts. Perusing it further I realized that indeed it contained some odd ideas - however for the time that I have spent on it and the few laughs that it gave me I decided to flipped further into the pages trying to see the author rather than the book itself.
As a book I come to think that the story merely reflect the author's sad experiences. Perhaps, the author merely wrote a message that he wanted the readers to understand but does not necessarily mean he wanted it for himself. The chapters went through to the bizarre and cheap truths about sexual laxity and adverse corruption of morality, harassment, promiscuity, sexual diseases and psychological illness. Much as I felt I had too much information to finish reading the book - I felt a strong bond with the author that I wanted to read more not to find out what was being said but hoping to know the author better.
The author had a very shattered self esteem. I realized that much as the author has the potential to act smart and respectable he definitely wanted to play tough and rough. Despite several options he chose the breed of violence, laziness, arrogance, insensitivity, irresponsibility and unreliability. I have read lies, conceit beyond par, maddening illusions and void spiritual existence. Before I could finish the final chapter of the saga - I closed the book - looked back through the times I had diligently and dutifully tried to reach out for that piece of crap that stuck me for 22 months.
I looked at myself in the mirror and saw my own reflection. I was stunned - the image of a weary woman, the painful look in the eyes with dark patches of eyebags - in horror I asked myself - did I hear myself swearing with anger and hurt getting affected with what I read ??? Where had the spirit people see to be neat and sweet gone ? Oh dear, I could only feel I cheated and deserted my own self - but again I asked - for what good reason do I need to come across THE BOOK ?
The night was so late I climbed to bed and covered my head with the heaviest pillow and cried silently determined that in the morning I will find better things to do. The day was not promising and the weather forecast was horrible but I chucked my camera inside my bag donned on my black esprit and levis and headed for a flight. Coming out of the plane the night drama was camouflaged by Oakley and in the cheerful hugs of friends built the strength to smile again.
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