The ‘real’ world

I probably will be able to relate to most when I say that in my childhood, I had not a care in the world. As I entered adolescence, memories of what little pieces of childhood I thought I had left, was cherised. What was forgotten remained but shades of yellows.

For a while now, I have not seen the world as any shade of colour. The transparency of the real world became obvious in my early teens or late childhood. Superficial. Fake. Consumerism. Money.

How I did not realise before is baffling. Actually what is more shocking is how the people around me seemed to change suddenly. The opinions of all I knew were different. Individualistic. Now, everyone seemed like the same person. Knowing one person was like knowing them all. I knew they were different because they did not look the same, but it was boring to hear one person say I like this and another say I like that too. ‘Isolation from this world was key to keep myself unique’ I thought.

At first.
This world at first, to me, was sick and barely tolerable. Blending in with the rest of society was the last of my concerns. Sitting on the borderlines of the norm, I watched those who did everything to meet the subtle push of society and its expectations. I felt unique yet slightly out of place. What is the new black? A constant question I hear in various forms. Taking shape in simple questions such as what do you like, what is your favourite colour or, the occasional, she ugly or what? It is laughable to see there is no limit to the concept of ‘fitting in’. Lies built upon lies to meet what the majority considers normal.

The worst you can get, in high school and from a female population, from being ‘too much of an individual’ is exclusion, the worst form of female bullying. It happened to me as I entered high school. Ignored and forgotten. The first day, I realised I was really alone as I stood in the middle of the basketball court, alone. Just as I realised that, my friend Bayal, tapped me on the back and asked if I was okay. Maybe God tried to tell me I was never alone. I do not know if they were excluding me on purpose but I hold no grudge. I already forgiven them. If that had not happened I would not be the person I am today and I would have never met K.C. or Rinni. We, three, were always together.

Those who were seen as most social and fashionable were considered popular, though no one would admit it. Boyfriends, fashion and music were trends and they follow it to the letter. I had a slight grudge against them for acting as role models for this consumerism world. I truly hoped that it was not because of jealousy, it is one of many emotions I love to avoid. They talked to me on an occasion, I felt extremely awkward and uncomfortable. I knew it was not their fault for trying to be normal but… I simply did not want to get to know them. They seem so similar, it is scary.

Only recently, I had somewhat accepted them. They lead a good example to follow for this consumer society… I mean, it could be worse with the drugs and alcohol in the streets. I know them quite a bit and they seem set to make the mature decisions involving love, friends, alcohol and everything in general.

I have come to accept the world and, hypocritically, became who I despised (partially). I realised the world is not just black and white. There are shades of grays and different colours. Those who do attempt to blend in do not lost themselves in this world but rather gain acceptance, which reinforces who they are. Encouragement from society and people around you is gained when they realised that some commonalities are shared between you and them. This is much like getting to know and connect with someone, as it is easier to become closer if you share a common interest, hobby, etc.

I cannot change the world if I cannot see through the perspective of those around me. I am different, though I am proud that I chose to be somewhat the same as everyone around me.

I am still learning much about this world, I was once oblivious to. I hope to see its better aspects and improve its worst.


Be yourself.

To Rin.F.

Rin: How do you talk to strangers?
Sayu: You’ll feel nervous at first, heart thumping, right? Just don’t think to much about it before you do it. Say hi, how are you, talk abit about yourself and ask them about them… yeah!

Hello my lovely sister, Rinni

I always wanted to help you to be more comfortable with people. I think K.C. wanted that too. Anyways, really glad you asked me. I wanted to give you a more better answer then, but i forgot the time and place. So here’s some advice;

I had encountered the same dilemma as well, not to long ago and for a long time. It was when we had that conversation in the library, yesterday, had I realised this fear (problem) begun to weaken, if not dissipated. Then, you ask me, ‘how do you talk to stranger?’. I thought back and remembered all the little thing I had done to overcome it.

Accept: past and present.
The first and the hardest step was to accept who I was and am, then to believe that I will become who I wanted to be, in time. Since the later years of primary school, even now, my heart fluttered and it hurt alot, when I thought of the past; things I could have done better, what i have already done, the people I had hurt, etc. The past is the hardest thing to accept. For me, my heart never stopped hurting. I thought I was it was some kind of punishment because of all the bad thing I have done. believed that. I know, now, that I cannot change it, no matter how vivid a memory it is.
From year seven to eight, I told myself to forget. It got worse from then.
Year nine, it happened often in classes and in front of people. I hid it by saying it was heart burn from the food I had eaten and that it was nothing.
Year ten, I told myself, ‘I forgive you’ and ‘it’s okay’, because it hurt til’ I almost cried.
Year eleven, it began to get better. I began to tell myself to accept who I am.
Now, I happens less.
(Oh! Just remembered, we talk about our heart aching before (years ago). Here I was worried about whether this would relate to what you are going through.) Anyways, once you accept your past, it is easier to accept who you are now, since it was your past-self that created your present-self.

Accept: future.
The future-self… well, you can not accept something that has not happened yet…So accept that you will become that someone or that you will accomplish the goals you set. It is a bit more difficult, if you do not have a particular direction. Though I guess going with the flow is an option and believe good things will always come. On the other hand, I wrote down who I wanted to be and what I wanted to accomplish on a letter to God. My brother wrote it in dot points titled ‘MY FUTURE GOALS’ (no religious stuff 🙂 It is on my wall now. I put it up there to remind me of what could be and that I have to believe and work hard. Plus, it is statistically better. Mrs. Stickos said something, in America, about 80%+ people who wrote down their goals did better than those who did not (forgot details).

After all that, you will begin to feel more comfortable about who you are and gain more confidence. Your attitude towards yourself will project through your actions and words. People can sense and observe this. So once you like yourself, they will like you. Once you feel comfortable with yourself, they will feel comfortable around you. etc.

Then, the last step is to practice. Say ‘hi’ to someone walking by, help someone, ask questions (e.g. directions). Engage a conversation with someone who seems like your type of friend/guy (hehe). Reveal little things about yourself, what funny things happened recently, ask them about them, ask them more. Think and act like you are interest and they will feel like you are interested. Two factors are essential; eye contact and SMILE. ummm… no staring, look away occasionally because you do not want to intimidate them or pressure them to say something. Remember, they will be as nervous as you are, no matter how professional they may act. Trust me, I know. During my breaks, my co-workers, with three and more years of experience in customer service (in the food industry) told me they are still nervous sometimes.

Be you.
Oh! You do not need to force yourself to be someone your not. Keep in mind that this was how I did it and who knows how others many have done it. Plus, don’t need to rush but do not forget to push yourself. Love you!

An ugly side: Anger

Message to friend, K.C. (via sms)

problem. meet at Springvale. dad might follow. I feel pissed. keeps saying crap about you. how does he get off talking shit like that? I dont need to get use to having independence he said. We go out too much he said, a joke? we went out 5 times these school holidays (2 months period) and the rest was spent at work. I used MY own money to support MY own education. how is that for independence? Call me tomorrow 9-10am



Just realised I got no credit…at least I voiced out my opinion. Projected my anger (love psychology!).

I guess I understand his views (my dad) that is;

  1. once you start you don’t stop (shopping, an addiction.. seems implausible), then again studies have shown shopping is as pleasurable as sex. Never did IT, but similar actions involving one party (myself) has been inflicted by me with only me -ahem!- The point is I understand.
  2. doing it for my good. I am sure he and my mother are. However, being a teenager, it is hard to see and act upon things benefit me in long term, as many in my age group are more likely to acting on instant impulses to gain short term satisfaction. This leads to substance abuse, emotional wellbeing, bad experiences, etc. So angry now and thankful in future.
  3. he is old, forgetful, cute, lovable and my dad. If he is reading this and understands English, I hope the first two pisses him off and, the last two, let me go out with my friend.

 Extra Info

At least, it’s better than him being a chaperon as he suggested in an authoritative manner, which is heard or seen rarely. As, my mother is the dominant head of the family, which is interesting considering the subservient, passive role she was continuously brought up to become as a child, whilst in Cambodian communities. Older photos (black and white) shows evidence of such qualities, with hands grasping each other and an innocence grin. What changed my mother to become quite the opposite is something quite drastic, possibly the Khmer Rogue Regime. As most of brothers do not exhibit any noticeable changes that I am aware of, my eldest (living) brother, has always been less talkative then most. Though this may truly be him, I can’t help but think of the degree of influence this tragic history played apart in my families’ lives. Though selfish, I also think how does this ultimately effects me?

A dream. A choice.

Breathtaking as always.
The sun began to touch the world below.My world.
Light rain glistened off familiar surfaces.
Everything felt more kinder. Warm.
Birds woke then intertwined in the distance.
Early traffic appeared in between shadows of nearby buildings.
Unafraid, I looked back.
Happiness stood by me.
I turned again towards my world and beyond laid a future of possibilities. I hope it will never disappear.

‘reemmebr yuor dmraes’ I heard a whisper in the winds.

‘It’s okay’ Another said behind me, a musky scent emanated.
Barely aware of a passing morning breeze and its chilling presence, his hands intertwine with my own.
His perspiring palms revealed his eagerness to comfort and settle my watering eyes.
It was then that I realized I was balancing upon what was the dividing the rest of the world and ours. The balcony.
Memories seeped in and I had remembered. A choice had to be made.

He remained and always has been; a sculpted god, perfect yet imaginary.
I have many a time accepted this being as an actuality.
Forgetting, the flaws I fell in love with, whereby replacing them with possibly impossible charms.
For a long while, ignorance kept me in a state of bliss. Yet it was neither the happiness I sought or the love I longed for.

I glanced to a side to view a reflection of my world. Warm. Realistic. Truthful. Risk.
I fondly examined the familiar jaw line, he was always so fond of, and the eyes that pleaded for my presence in what has been our world.
His eyes began to water until a state much like my own. He knew my decision before I knew it myself. We smiled.
He pushed me. I let go. I fell from my heaven, our world, to a world of unpredictable possibilities.

I saw the golden world below and its shadows. It seemed closer.


Extra Info
My youngest brother (26), D. Spirit, is someone who I believe to be a natural poet, lovey-dovey at times, spiritual and better than me at English.
He read this and ‘clap’ was his initial response on msn.
He commented later on about the use of the same word in close proximity (a few sentences apart), was the only thing I needed to improve on this.
He also said that there were three levels of english writing;

  1. Writings that just describes.
  2. Writing that describes and means.
  3. Writing that is has profound meaning, that makes you think. ‘what can that mean? Possibly even teach you something.

He said I have written using the second stage. Do not know if this will help me with more analytical writing in my last year of high school.

At least now I know one of my strengths.

Dae Sayuki.
First name: Sayuki
Last name: Dae
Hope you get to know me. The true me. I don’t know who I am yet but I know who I want to be, a person worthy of being able to be called beautiful inside and out.