Five Secrets (?) of Me

The reason why I put question mark right after the word ‘secret’ is because I’m not really sure that the five features I’m going to vent could in anyway be categorised as ‘secrets’. I mean, aren’t secrets called secrets exactly just because they are not meant to be disclosed in any circumstances? Despite so, this chained-post I get from a fellow happened to intrigue me quite much. So much that it drew my concern from supposedly-on-progress-final-exam-task that is due tomorrow (note that this exact line was actually written on Jan 2th, 2012) (And if one shall question why wouldn’t I replace it with more timely and contextually accurate line: I just don’t feel like erasing it!). From the very reason elaborated above, I guess the title ‘things about me that haven’t been disclosed yet’ will suit these points just right instead of ‘secrets’. So, here they go:


1)       There are times when I couldn’t help myself pulling my hair out

Whenever I am put into conditions that caused me to think so harshly, as in so immersed in my thoughts and rather under-pressured ones, I would unconsciously start pulling my hair out, as in pulling them one by one. Later I found out, this tendency has name, called trichotillomania. Gladly, it was not acute one. Though, I think there were times back there in my childhood when there literally was some area in my head that was sort of… bald? Due to intense hair-pulling.


2)      I love babies & toddlers whilst at the same time being terrified of them

How could you not feel like eating one? I mean, with all those squeezy postures (especially if they are fat. And white. And fat.)… and those glaring eyeballs which would be glued on you rather unhesitantly longer than usual. And those clumsy gesture they make each time they strive to make any tiny leap ahead. And that mumbling sound they frequently emit due to incapability of uttering clear pronunciation… One just simply can’t stand all those features directly provoking one’s sense of cuteness.

Yet. I also always am engulfed with anxiety that they would cry whenever I try to attract their attention or, even worse, when I merely stare back at them. I’ve always believed in children’s judgement  in their premature thoughts and in their pure intuitions. Set aside all the convolutedly distorted logics you inherit from society which renders you rather biased in whatever judgement you make, children’s judgement shall be the sincerest. And they are, to me. Hence why receiving bad judgement shown by toddlers through their crying would be my greatest horror.


3)      I hate it when people question one’s solitude

Not that kind up-to-detesting-degree kind of hate. I just… don’t like it. I know what’s going on people’s mind whenever a line of, “Why do you came by alone?” “Why don’t you ask one of your friend to accompany you?” comes out. What, why should we? What if we just don’t enjoy having companies entailing our every moves, especially for particular circumstances? Alas, this could have been a justification of my poor ability to befriend with large number of people. But simply put, I most of the time don’t mind wandering to places all by myself. Accompaniment is fine, yet not compulsory. Especially if they turn out to be burdensome.To gracefully engage with the state of being alone requires some specific talent, and I couldn’t be any prouder to state that I possess such skill.


4)      I have been ridiculously trying to resist myself from wishing one’s birthday during 2012

The reasoning that induced me to do so inferred from sort-of mixed up thoughts: either it was my questioning the real purpose behind the rite of congratulating birthdays

“Is it his/her existence that we cherish upon?”

“Or is it his/her drawing closer to his/her death?”

, or it was the self contemplation on whether it is altruistic or it is egoistic motives that drive someone to pose kind gestures (such as congratulating birthdays). I’m not sure which causes which, or they actually popped out simultaneously. All I know, the lingering of both in my mind must have contributed to my not congratulating birthdays. Also, I’m afraid that my gesture of wishing one’s birthday actually breeds the hope that the person will congratulate me on my birthday too, which makes me insincere. And I don’t want it.

P.S.: Later that year I figured out how the problem of insincerity-when-wishing-one’s-birthday lies between myself. Because the argument itself is as insensible as ‘I don’t want to give things to people because I’m afraid I’ll be expecting something in return too.’ (Now that I compare it, it indeed sounds ridiculous…) Glad that I resolved such misconception.


5)      I believe in words over swords

I think this one’s quite apparent? Since I’m pretty much a book-person. Pardon me for disclosing a rather publicly known fact, but I just want to underline how I perceive it’s quite pathetic how people of our nation are used to induce changes by creating suppression  instead by growing inner conscience. Of course, it’s no longer contextual to use ‘swords’ as symbolisation for war. And by that, of course it stands for so-called demonstration act which—from what I’ve observed—renders to be more like a vehicle to execute the interests of particular stakeholders. Oh, hypothetical and generalising it is, but it hasn’t been long since I saw the concrete evidence that vindicated this prejudice of mine. I believe quality changes are indeed made by self-quality-improvement which most likely is acquired through extensive reading (or vice versa: you enrich one’s knowledge through your writing). Arranging and enraging formerly-neutral mass to protest against something they don’t really understand (because of their failing to grasp its big context) would only cause mere surface-deep changes.