Monday, June 11, 2007
♥ Monday, June 11, 2007
It sucks to be a teenager these days.
I was reading Daniel's blog who got inspired by another friend, about life. And when I was thinking, I found an answer.
Sometimes, like when we're doing math sums, we have to find the answer. We use all kinds of ways - algebra, indices, whatsoever - to figure out that number, that certain expected response that's fixed, set, and leaves no other possibilities of another answer. It has to be that answer, and we try to find it. We look for it, everywhere, under every stone, inside every book, during every second, because we want to. We want a concrete, definite answer for every question, as if we could take that model answer and copy and paste it into the lines of the paper, and then pass it up and score with flying colours.
There are people who strive to do this, for every question they're faced with, for every uncertainty they want to solve. They take the facts, merge it together, and use it altogether after analysis to answer a question, to give the model answer, in exact words and phrases, written down in ink on a piece of paper, or on the lines of a writing pad.
That is why I suck at math.
But some other things are different.
Other things don't need a definition, they don't need an answer. They're left open-ended, for the readers to guess, interpret, assume, ponder, and then use their imagination and nature to give their answer, a different answer from another person's. Unlike the first, they can give you a thousand different answers to one question, yet all of them are correct, excellent, and most importantly, true. The people who are good at sums - they try to figure it all out, to find an answer, but they realise they can't. They can't paste their ideal answers into the paper, or the book, or the lines of their writing pad. They can't find that number, that word, that fixed definition or answer.
But the second type of people. They don't try to find out. Because they understand that's the way it is. That's the way it's meant to be - left open ended, left to be interpreted, left for the person to define personally. There's no answer, because there are too many different answers to give, to offer, yet all them, one by one, rejected. Because the answer's meant to be blank, like a blank sheet of paper, left to be looked at from different angles, to be thought about; not to be written in the dictionary, or on test papers, nor said by anyone.
Because that's the way it's meant to be.
And that is my answer. To life, to questions asking why. I don't strive to look for some answers, because some answers aren't supposed to be found. They're there, you know they are, but silent, somewhere, but you don't know where. But it doesn't matter where, because they're there. Besides, there are too many answers you need to give, you can't answer every single one of them before you die.
Yeah. Okay. I know that is not the point, you don't need to remind me Sara.
It's just that, sometimes, life isn't what it always seems. Inside everyone's heart is a different definition for everything, and I mean, nothing is concrete. Ever. It's a temporary replacement, for something bigger, more profound, for something which no one has ever seen or understood. I'm not saying I've seen it, but I'm hoping I will see, at least, a part of it. I am not very smart, I cannot score a 4.0 GPA. I don't wish for much. Instead, I guess, I just want to see a part of it, a part of life, a part of the meaning of being someone. I just want to understand that little bit of life.
I guess what I'm trying to say is that we shouldn't always try to find the answer. We might get too absorbed in doing so, and at the same time neglect what's really important, what's really indispensable. Some questions have no answers, and when you finally realise that it will be a waste of time.
By then, it'd be too late.
On a lighter note :D
Dinner was very amusing. We ordered SO MUCH FOOD oh my God, the snow peas alone were like, what, THREE KG?! We had a hard time eating all of that which wasn't really very delicious although I usually like it, and when I was starting on my third serving of snow peas I was going all "Mommy I feel like a cow" and mooing everywhere until we couldn't stop laughing.
Of course, as an added craziness I afterwards dumped my (fourth) plate of snow peas into the corn soup which made my mom raise an eyebrow and start laughing horribly, but I finished it anyway.
I STILL FEEL LIKE A COW. MOO.
Well. Am going to entertain myself now. Bye you all!
