The Existence of Magic

♥

I dedicate this (part) to you in particular.

In all my life, I never thought that something as magical as this could happen to me.

Then, you showed up and you proved me wrong.

Thank you.

♥

When she was there the first time, she hadn't actually considered that it would be her second home for the next two years of her life. Before she knew it, she had to face the reality that she had never thought she would. With her old, reused, black-and-pink coloured backpack, her hair pulled back and tied in a single, simple ponytail (that did not compliment her) and her fear overwhelming her (which was no surprise), she stood by the concourse, lost and clueless...

♥

There he sat, quietly, beside me. I could hear him breathe slightly heavily; perhaps it was the result of rushing into the hall just a while ago. As we waited for the commencement of the Orientation, the thought of taking the first step to make some new friends had turned in my head for the millionth time. After all, that was what this whole week was about, wasn't it? 

Yet, the only thing that was holding her back was the apprehension that had crept inside her ever since this whole thing started, and something told her that it wasn't planning on leaving any time soon. Still, as the saying goes - "if not now, when?"; and that was when she decided to take the risk. She looked around her and tried to look for a possible 'target', but everyone else seemed to have had a head-start. Just when she was expecting things to take a turn for the worst, she realized that the only other person that seemed to be "lagging behind" from others in this struggle was that boy sitting beside her. 

"Here goes nothing," she thought to herself - mustering as much courage as she could possibly have had inside her at that time - she turned to him and said "hi". 

While that was happening, she was also contemplating about how the next moment would end up like, and she came to a conclusion that it would be awkward. Little did she know that the denouement would be far from her prediction, because at the very instance of her making an attempt to start a conversation with him, he did the same thing, at the same time.

Wow. 

Is it possible for something so simple to be so enchantingly serendipitous?

The weird thing is, though, the concomitance did not culminate there. Just as they were laughing at what had just happened, they both turned to each other and asked "what's your name?" at the same time as well; that was when she realized that, perhaps, this wasn't a mere coincidence. 

Perhaps, this is the existence of magic; and, perhaps, this whole journey would prove it.

♥

Overthinking | Death of The Outcasted

A while back, I posted my thoughts on over-thinking. I've decided to turn this into a series of posts because one post is just not enough to express how the pain of being and over-thinker through words.

So here goes.

Perhaps one of the more frequent derivations of over-thinking is from feeling like an outcast. I say this because this has been happening to me a lot lately. Without a doubt, it is becoming incessant; but then again, that isn't the real problem. 

Everyone is bound to feel like an outcast once in a while. I think we've been made to think that it's okay, and that is where the real problem comes in. You see, it is because we have been made to comply to 'what's right' and think that feeling like an outcast is 'normal' and 'okay', close to no one will think about caring when they see someone looking like they feel like an outcast, even if that person is someone they know, because no one would care enough to observe and see if anyone is feeling like an outcast. It is also because of this that The Outcasted will then feel like because no one seems to show any concern that what they're feeling is wrong and they shouldn't speak of it or they would be, as some would say, 'abnormal', which makes them feel more outcasted than they already feel like now. This is where over-thinking comes in, which inevitably leads to inner-death.

For some reason, I have been feeling like an outcast a lot lately. I think it's growing on me - into some kind of phobia; because of this, I am perpetually afraid of being hated or alone and especially of being ditched by friends, because it's kind of like an indication of my inadequacy of being a person, let alone friend, that pushes them away from me. And it's scary to be living with this fear.

Scary. 

I'm beginning to realize that the scary thing about overthinking is that it kills you, slowly, from the inside. It is the constant turning of all the negativity and angst from being outcasted that makes us victims of this silent, invisible murder. What's scarier is that all this will lead to a never-ending internal war between us and them. The moment we lose our sanity - they've won. Perhaps that is the most common and often unsaid cause of most people's death.

Sometimes I wonder if anyone else can relate to this...

"What is wrong with you?" they asked her repeatedly and apathetically, but unfortunately, not rhetorically. 

What could she do? 

Nothing. 

Nothing but stare blankly at the ground and ponder over all the possible causes for her abhorrent, and possibly indubitable, abnormality. What was wrong with her? Why did she fall into the untouchable category of the out-of-the-norms? She could not find an answer and it seemed as though they were waiting for one - one that will serve as an explanation for her asininity. 

In hopes of coming to a conclusion, she questioned herself - what was right about her? To her dismay, that was harder to answer, and she came to realize that there was no answer to the latter, because the answer to the former was and always would be everything. 

At that instant, enmity grew within her - bitter, agonizing hatred for herself and everything erroneous about her. There was sadness in her eyes - the worst kind; the kind that resembled scars, the kind that would never disappear. Even then, the torture had only just begun. Perhaps, she thought, this internal struggle was a sign. At this point, there was no doubt that, in all that is evanescent, it was time to end the pain. There was absolutely no point in living when you had to be constantly reminded of how inadequate you are, especially in a world that is in perpetual pursuit of perfection. 

Still, she felt like a stupid weakling, defeated and tormented by just a few words. 

No, they were not just a few words. 

They were daggers. 

They were stabbing and slashing her from the inside; they have not stopped and she was certain that they would not stop. 

Still, she tried to stop them. 

She tried to ease the pain by letting the blood escape from her internal wounds. 

She took pills to silence the haunting voices in her head that have put those two deadly questions on repeat. 

She was tied to the bed in a dark corner in a place for special people like her. 

No, nothing was working, and she knew that. 

Her heart stopped beating. 

She lost touch her soul.

They were taking over her.

She could no longer think, they thought for her. 

They said she was only normal if she thought that way.

She could no longer speak, they spoke for her.

They said she was only normal if she spoke that way.

She could no longer move, they moved for her. 

They said she was only normal if she did what they told her to. 

She began to believe them. 

It was the right thing to do.

Overthinking | The Eternal Curse

I am quite sure I've been cursed. This torturous blasphemy has become so much a part of me that it defines me, and I hate that it does.

I'm an Overthinker; and it is, in a lot of ways, a horrid reality. It has become so severe for me that it is impossible for me to go a day without thinking too much into even the most simplest affairs. I'm not even kidding. Even seeing a friend close to someone else makes me feel like I'm not as important to them as they are to me, like I'm just a backup plan. Being alone makes me feel like a reject. Hearing people around me laugh makes me paranoid that they're laughing at me. I know it's stupid and crazy, but I can't help it, and I hate that about myself.

In my struggle to maintain my sanity, someone once told me that "it only matters to you because you make it matter". That phrase resonated with me to the depths of my soul. Ever since then I've been wondering — why is it that we tend to wonder off into the unknown, digging up the worst memories hidden in the darkest corners of our minds, when we clearly don't want to recall it?

I don't know if it's the same for you but, whenever I overthink, one thing leads to another; my head ends up in a twirl, my heart feels like it's been stabbed countless times and is about to give way, I can't think and then – BOOM – tears burst out of my eyes like water gushing out of a broken dam. It is at that very moment of affliction when all those recurring thoughts become questions — haunting questions that will never be answered, ones that force us to redefine ourselves and our purpose in life. At this stage, the curse would have already set in, and once it sets in, there is no turning back. I'm not alone here, right?

I read somewhere that life is about moving past the past and going towards the future. But because the future lies in the vast unknown, fear steps in, and the only thing that we can fall back on for support is our past experiences. It's not as easy to let go and move on as people in movies and television shows make it out to be. Thence, I'd like to believe that at the end of it all, our minds will be the cause of our own psychological suicides. No matter how hard we will ourselves not to succumb to this kind of self-torture, it'll never stop, because it isn't something that can be cured overnight. In fact, there really is no cure at all. I can't just ask you to stop overthinking. You can try, but it rebounds, doesn't it? Things don't work that way, not in this case at least.

I think it's time to admit the truth. Overthinking is the reality. It's a curse, it's eternal, and it's here to stay. Are you going to do anything about it?

I'm not happy

I'm unhappy. I haven't been truly happy for the longest time. I guess it's another horrible start to a post but I've come to a realization that I am not happy, and I don't know why. 

This kinda got me thinking — what makes me happy?

I thought about it and tried to find an answer but I really don't know. You're probably judging me right now and I can't say I blame you. It seems pretty impossible to not know what makes one happy; surely there are things and people I like that make me smile. 

And there are! I love my family, my friends, my classmates, my collection of stuffed-toys; I love travelling; I love trying new things and chasing dreams; I love shopping, singing, spending time with people who are important to me. I love a lot of things — the list is endless. 

But then again, just because one loves many things doesn't mean they are happy with the life they're living, nor do these things makes them genuinely smile all the time. In a lot of ways, we all want to be happy but don't know how. I'm no exception. I guess I'm in this point in my life where I'm overwhelmed by everything I'm going through – all the commitments and expectations thrown at me – so much so that I've lost and forgotten what it means to be truly happy, and it sucks. I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one.

I don't know where I'm going with this post. I guess I just wanted to talk about how I really felt. I mean, as much as I like being introverted and being alone, there are times when I've to let my thoughts out. 

So the truth is that I'm not happy, I don't know why and I don't know what to do about it. What about you? 

We've only just begun

I'm not sure how many times I've attempted to upkeep a blog, and I'm not sure which attempt this is. All I know is that I've probably deleted many blogs in the past few years after abandoning them but that's not going to stop me!

I admit — I have the First-blog-post Syndrome, a deadly disease where one fears writing the first blog post because they never know what to write, or what is appropriate to write. That should explain why this post may be a bit lengthy and boring so give me a second here and deal with it, okay? I guess I should start by introducing myself, and what better way to do that then with an awkward, badly-taken selfie?

Hello, my name is Victoria Chwa. I'm 17 (year 2014); from Singapore. There's actually not very much to me. I like spending my time writing, watching Taiwanese or Korean soap operas, singing and frolicking in the garden of roses in a fantasy land in my head. I'm rather quiet by nature, so I don't talk as much as I think. I'm currently studying in the Arts Stream in Pioneer Junior College, and I hope to get a Degree in Psychology in future. Like any other teenaged girl, I spend a fair bit of my time scrolling through online shops (which I plan to open soon) and, most of the time, end up buying things I want but don't actually need and then regretting it later while desperately trying to find a way to use them. :P

I also have a blog on Wordpress which you can check out by clicking the tab on the menu bar above. If you're wondering why I have 2 blogs, my Wordpress blog is for all the times when I feel extra philosophical while this blog is so I can share my day to day shenanigans with you. I hope you don't mind! ^^ 

I absolutely love watching videos on YouTube. I'm a fan of almost every youtuber there is to watch. I hope to be able to start a YouTube channel one day, and be able to travel and see the world and go to Vidcon or Playlist Live. I also hope to open my own online store soon. :x

If you're wondering what I will be posting here, I'm pretty much going to share almost anything and everything — from my daily activities and hopefully inspirational thoughts to product reviews and advertorials. I don't really have a plan of what to post so I'm just going to post anything I feel like posting because I'm a rebel and I roll that way. ;)

That's pretty much it for an introduction I guess! :) I'm not really pretty and neither do I have a good figure or anything worth being known for so I don't expect this blog to 'blow up'. That's not my aim of starting a blog anyway. Some people keep diaries, others keep a sketch book, but I choose to try to keep a blog. And whoever you may be, I hope you'll enjoy visiting my blog. :) I will try my best to upkeep it this time! XD Honestly, this is the blog I'm most satisfied with so far. :x

Well, this wasn't so hard. After all, we've only just begun (Yes, quoting The Carpenters). ;)