Tween Love-Making, Teenage Story Resurfaced and Desires

One of the most disturbing things I’ve seen on the internet a few months or weeks ago was a boy on top of a girl, and the next video the girl on her knees while doing something to the same boy who was then lying down.

While I was fifteen at a chalet party, we all had gathered and the boys turned on some adult video on someone’s laptop. It looked painful, and I was more concerned over being caught because they were using MY mobile data. I walked out of the room to hang out with the others about one or two minutes after the video, and didn’t care much about it anymore. When I was 10 I had accidentally clicked on a bait that downloaded lots of nude pictures into my computer. My dad was about to have lunch when I told him about it and he got up to have them deleted. Before that I had come across the profile of a girl from Singapore named “Amirah” who also posed in her birthday suit and I told my mom about it. After that I didn’t really care anymore.

But this time it was different.

A Stranger Got Sick

Some time ago I was at a surau at my prayer mat to pray when I instinctively turned around to find a young teenage girl looking down at her pool of stomach contents. I watched her mom roll her eyes at her and left her just like that. My mother was a perfectionist woman who gave me that look whenever I did something wrong as a child too. The look that only heightened fear and diminished any sense of real confidence in a person. I did not want the cycle to go on.

Immediately I abandoned my praying intentions and rushed to the alone girl with my bag. I’m known as Doraemon in my family, so my bag has everything. Lots and lots of tissues I offered her and even helped her push the spew away from other people who were there to pray. We covered it with tissues. She looked confused, alone, and I can probably tell, sad.

“Are you having a headache?” I asked.

She nodded solemnly, and I offered her a mint. I happened to have a paper bag and I opened it up and taught her to scoop up her vomit (using the lots and lots of tissues) into the bag.

Her mother returned with a cleaner and pointed it to the cleaner, and she brought her daughter to the washing area where she gave her daughter another lecture. I think she briefly thanked me (or didn’t, I remember the girl saying thank you quietly though). They left, and the cleaner mopped the floor. The girl and I had picked up 90% of the gag.

There I was, about to pray, but went to clean up a stranger’s vomit instead.

I Don’t Remember

I honestly don’t remember the last time I felt really sad or mad.

I know I won’t be anymore, because I understand where my feelings are coming from.

That’s my plan. To share what I know with more people. Have psychological freedom.

Your psyche, your mind, everything you see, whatever that happens to you, actually comes from your psychology.

The body you have is the result of what you eat, and what you eat depends on your “mood” or “feelings”. What you see, the circumstances and how you perceive or interpret it too is based on your psychology.

I know I am psychologically free.

It really is a blissful feeling.

I’ve had days where I contemplated jumping off my apartment window. I remember sitting on the edge, door locked, and calculating the risks. Just a few years ago I believed everybody hated me and that I didn’t ask to be born in this world. I lived through days waiting to die. And died on the inside while living in the outside world. Everybody else “in the world” seemed to support how I felt about myself.

Not anymore. 99% of whomever I come across are very helpful, are so very lovely to me. The 1% I understand where they’re coming from and I don’t take offense/take anything personally when they’re not being nice to me.

It’s not saying I don’t have problems. I still don’t live in abundance luxury and haven’t bought new clothes in three months. I think about that Subway sandwich and sometimes they do look expensive. From time to time I wonder if I’m able to do this or that. I still doubt myself. What I can do and what I cannot.

But they don’t rob bliss off me. They cannot.

They can pinch a bit of bliss, but I know it’s a pinch and I can slap its hand off my bliss. It’s as easy as that.

I want you to know how I know what to do, and so I am holding a short workshop to share with you what I’ve been searching seventeen years for.

Connection Workshop

I’m going to let this post sit like this unedited, as it captures/captured my raw thoughts in the moment. Thanks and hope to see you at my workshop 🙂