i remembered putting up this picture here some weeks ago.
guilt. sometimes you feel it, sometimes you don't. you see a shadow of it and wondering where the solid is. sometimes it's like a lion waiting to pounce on you and tear you into pieces, then get a tailor to sew you up so that the tailor can return the
mended you to the lion for it to tear you into pieces again and so that the tailor can do the sewing job and so that the lion has something to do. it's a cycle. i hate how i have allowed guilt to eat me up and surprisingly, i am
still allowing it to do so. because at times, it makes you feel alive. a heart that hurts is a heart that works.
it's funny how i have grown to repulse, if not hate the term 'calling'. oh, no offense. a lot of people spoke to me out of good will about 'calling'. i even talked to my self about that, reassuring my self that, yeah, that's
your calling. thank you, i appreciated that. i was once
kind of certain that
this was what He
called me to do since everything
kind of fell into the right place in that four years. oh probably i have some serious misconception on how He does things. but anyway,
my calling.. Oh baybeh please.. please stop speaking that way.. please stop before i jump down from some tall buildings due to guilt and shame that comes because i refused to do what He 'called' me to do.
i don't want to stay in that place because of guilt. but leaving that place does make me feel like there are infinite amount of flaming arrows aiming at me from north south east and west, not to mention directions like northeast, northwest, etc. And they are waiting to be released and come raining on me. And burn me to death. I am that morbid, and sadistic, at times.
Or maybe it's me who allowed myself to be in that helpless hopeless situation.
25 and i am still feeling my way around. It's as if i have lost everything, and have to start all over again.
Guilt is a good weapon to paralyse someone. And you just stay in the rut.
how can i not feel the guilt when people around me is telling me that teaching is a noble profession and we need good christian teachers to be in the scene, touching heavens changing earth, making our lives count, dying to self, like the kennel that falls into the ground?
There's not a day i don't feel the immense hatred towards my job and the other side of my world. And it's amplified many folds every time i come back for school holidays. and i don't care if the whole world knows about this. i thought i could grow to love this job and it did blossomed a bit but reality kills it the way curiosity kills the cat.
a friend always tells me she remembered how i used to be when i was in form 6. joyful. committed. eager to know The Word, all the good-christian-ish descriptions you can imagine.
That jia is not even the jia some of you know today.
She fades in and out ever since
she is denied the opportunity to do what
she wanted. It has a serious implications on
her twin's life since then. And that friend of mine has been reminding me again, and again, and again to search for
that jia.
"search high and low for her," she said.
i tried.
we tried.
but we kept losing each other.
it's like a love story. a sad one, where guilt plays you around like the cards in his hands. Or like lovers drawn together because of guilt, and then separated because they die in each other's arms bit by bit as day goes by. it's like
The Tale of You, The Lion and The Tailor i told you earlier.
*****
i don't know where i get all these words. i myself was surprised as i proof read it again and again. but all i know is - my heart is suffering from immense pain and hatred, and all i can do is putting them into words and let some of you know about this truth
you have not been to where me and my friends are.
don't pretend you know it all.
