Who am I?

Past few days has been rough, to my BP and neurons.

It still is but I'll skip the whining.

I'm struggling with the toughest nut to crack on Earth.

Myself.

It's the whole "I'm-searching-for-my-identity" process, all over again.

Just this time; bigger, deeper, harder matters that I'm dealing with.

Part and parcel of growing up, everyone goes through I'm sure.

I'm just one confused (and lost, if I must add) girl searching for answers regarding myself.

And silly me, I know He knows.

But it's that crazy, boiling hunger in me to know my life's purpose(s).

My heart's saying, "Be the siao overachiever all Asians are".

Be that daughter her mama's proud of;

be that off-the-charts employee;

be the siao-for-God Christian.

Be this, be that.

But my head's telling me that I'm just not cut out for it, just not good enough for anybody/anything.

A couple of stuff, spurred up the whole self-reflecting period.

Few individuals who approached me and gave me their honest opinions, of myself.

Few events which revealed my weaknesses.

I'm one very sesat girl, I admit.

Suddenly my dreams and goals seem vague and worse, pointless.

Like walking blindfolded in an already pitch-black room, aimlessly looking for a way out.

It feels weird typing these out.

Because I normally write em' out in my tiny diary.

So that I, and only I, know what's going on.

Afraid of people who will judge, draw their own conclusions about the person I am.

Solely based on what and how I express my feelings and thoughts in words.

But nah.

One, that tiny book is only good for short, sweet jottings. Got to quit writing pages and pages of the same thing.

Two, judge me as you wish. I, me, myself, do not exactly know who am I. If that makes sense, but you get me.

On an unrelated note, I slept at 2000 and got up at 0000 because I couldn't sleep last night and then attended an extended meeting, hence the odd bedtime. Got up to the sound of mahjong tiles hitting the table and male voices calling out the tiles. Emo-mode kicked off. Lester called coincidentally. Mamak-ed at 0030. Came home at 0215. Superlate, I know. My mama will kill me. But instead of motivating him to nerd, he listened (or maybe he pretended to). Even if he did pretend, I'm glad nevertheless. Only a handful actually care/can-tahan to listen anyway.

And I'm not craving for self-pity, mind you.

I utterly admit that I'm a weakling.

And I will push myself hard.

Not to please anyone, but Him.

I'm just in a chaochao mode.

Okay, no.

Just thought a wacky self-photo would lighten up the mood here.

Funny thing is, I keep receiving cold treatments from some when I'm the one emo. Bleh.

I'm not sleeping, full-swing tonight.

Can't sleep anyway, not like much can be done.

But goodnight and God bless youuu.

Dear Daddy,

I might not have my dad with me.

But I have You.

Holding on to You.

For You are in control.

Love, Your daughter.