I was cynical about love, religion, and people. But I changed my perspective.
Love, by all means, and according to my parents, is the only thing we are rich in. They taught me so, I believed it so. Now that I have a meandering mind of my own, I have to agree. They loved me so well to the extent that love is set on my mind as something big and supposedly emphasized. Indeed, love is big; love should be emphasized. But I learned things the hard way from
love (yes, with a crossed line), because really, it wasn’t love –right when I believed it was.
I’ve lived many days to play as a victim. I’ve grown sick of it. Does melancholy, masochism, or being sympathized with make anything better? No. Rather, I’d take myself as an adventurer –curiouser in every step of the way and fond of taking risks.
I involved myself in romantic relationships when I was 13. Quite young, right? Yet I’m not anything closer to apologetic.
The last time I had my heart on a drinking-spree repair shop was 2 years ago. I was 17.
For 4 years, I spent my time and money on assholes. I gave up my friends, my beliefs, my hobbies just to avoid arguments. I snuck out of the house just to have one more kiss for sweet dreams. I lied to my family. I disregarded more important things. I was blind. I was stupid. For. Four. Damn. Years.
I believed it was love, then. Like a child thinking there’s a monster ready to knock you out any time you step out of your bed, only because that’s what the tales say. Because that’s what the society says. It’s all over the books and magazines.
I confused curiousity for love.
I blamed love for everything. I pointed fingers. I got angry and violent. I was bitter. But what good did it do?
But I climbed a mountain of curiousity, got my answers, found my way down, and now I’m about to climb another one. But this time, I have experience, advices, and books as guidelines. Still taking risks, but with a pinch of caution.
So, one: Never be sorry for your feelings. Unless it really disturbs you.
Two: Balance the weight of your decisions before making one. Make sure to think about the advantages and disadvantages, and lastly, listen to your gut or your instincts.
Three: Have regrets. Because eventually, you will find your way out of the hole you got stuck in, you silly rabbit.
As for religion. Well, it’s quite complicated.
I grew up in a church, a wonderful one –I’d have to say, because it taught me so much about righteousness and morality. To sum it all up, it taught me to have standards.
Standards, that as a child, I thought would never shake up my beliefs and preferences. But I was wrong. My age added another one every year, so did my doubts.
I was shaken up by the world, as I saw its real shades one by one. The wars and arguments; everything on the TV –people trying to clutch each other’s throats, because of what? There’s a thing about this place, you know? Something that tries to drag you away, whether you do good or bad.
And so I questioned my ground. Until now, actually. I’ve asked myself what to do from time to time. And from time to time, I get this “I don’t know”.
I observed various people, asked them about their beliefs and opinions. And believe me, their answers only left me even more confused.
I concluded, and decided that these titles, these “religions” are as fucked up as unattended electrical wires. I blamed it, too, for making the world like this –starving for peace.
Since a single little girl like me can never change that, I declared not to care.
There’s one thing that I learned as I tackled about this:
It’s not so bad to believe in something. Not really. If you believe in deities, aliens, or unicorns, then go ahead. As long as you don’t start judging people because of it. And genuinely believing in something makes you productive too.
About people? Well, they’re just as fucked up as I am. Haha. That’s what I think.
We have different opinions, and arguing about anything won’t conclude anything positive. I’ve tried! And sheezus, I only wasted my wit. But arguing is perfectly normal, really.
What’s not normal is trying to win a conversation that would end up only in your memory. That’s what.
Honestly, right now, I’m not trying to win my thoughts over yours. I’m just sharing a piece. Maybe, just maybe, this would help you somehow. May it be to pass your time, or just the sake of reading.
I used to think that I can change people, but the thought of it ended up as a damn big disappointment.
People are people. You can neve ever change them. Your hopes and sacrifices for them will never count unless they are willing.
And if they are willing, then people change. They do. Whether it’s in a positive or negative way, it’s neither in your hands.
Change is a timeless, neverending cycle. It’s a monstrous enemy to oppose. And only a strong will can challenge that.