Birthday Flashbacks 

Does anyone remember these? 

We used to call them “rockets” when I was in primary school. Or “rolly biscuits”. I’m sure there’s some form of sophisticated name for them. Like wafer rolls or something. But they’ll always be known as rockets to me. 
Why are they on this blog, you may ask? Well I spent my birthday indoors reading a book. It was actually very relaxing, don’t worry. I was content. And I was replying to birthday wishes all day. But I felt the general mood was lower than last year. Which is fine because as I’ve said, 22 is a pretty meh age. And there’s not much hype about it. But it did make me feel terribly old, as my friends seemed to be too busy adult-ing to spend ages talking to me on my birthday. 

But what did happen on the day following my birthday is that I got a chance to catch up with some friends and we found ourselves in a rather low key, but fancy enough restaurant. One of those ‘hidden treasures’ as they say. And it was indeed that for me, because when I ordered dessert, lo and behold they brought me a piece of my childhood!! 

I can’t explain my feelings when I saw the rocket. I was overcome with excitement such that I didn’t take a moment to photograph it. I hadn’t eaten or even seen one in years. Instantly when I bit into it, I was transported back to my childhood when I would spend lunchtimes with my friends arguing about what super power would suit us best while munching on a couple of rockets, straight out of a round tin full of them. Trying to eat all of it without the crumbs falling down. And if any did, it was one of life’s biggest disappointments. 

Ah. ‘Twas a simpler time. 

It’s funny how happy this little thing made me. I felt no longer 22. I enjoyed being 8 in those few moments. It reminded me just how sticky the mind can be. It seems to latch on so vividly to little things. And when triggered, releases such a huge wave of emotions just like that. Good and bad. But if it’s good, it’s really good. 

I enjoyed this birthday in a way I never thought I would. And I’m grateful. Even if I am 22, I’m pretty sure I’m 8 whenever I see a rocket. 

Advertisements

Half The Year Gone

Woah wait a sec. It’s the end of May already?! Where did my year go??

It seems like only yesterday I was being underwhelmed by the New Year posts. And now what? We’re 6 months into the year already! Apparently time flies when you’re in hospital trying to figure out what on earth you learnt in med school over the last 4 years. xD

Looking over my posts this year, it seems I’ve been kind of lost throughout the last 6 months. Well it’s not exactly new, but I do wonder if my readers get tired of my rather self-absorbed and confused posts. (If I even have any readers, that is)

Nah I’m kidding. I’m really grateful to all the people that are following me and the people that drop by just to read a post. It’s such a nice feeling to wake up to a new like or follow. Especially since I’m super critical about my posts on here. No, really.

For me, blogging is a really new and weird thing. As a kid, I had a heck of a lot to say. And I used to think that if I had a blog, I’d be so famous and people would want me to become a writer and combine my blogs into a book (as is the trend these days amongst YouTubers, bloggers, Kardashians, etc.). As I grew older, I realised that my opinions and delusions of grandeur should really be kept to myself. Because as I’ve said, I found out the hard way what I say and what anyone says really, can have huge impacts on others (that are not always good). So the blogger/writer dream never happened. Yes I know, millions out there are disappointed. I do apologise.

But now, due to inspiration, this blog exists. And I am so grateful I started it and immensely grateful to the person that got me to do it. What’s great about this blog is that there is only one other person in my life that knows about its existence. The person that made me start it. Unless of course they told someone else about it (they might have, but I wouldn’t know them so oh well). But anyways, that fact gives me a certain amount of freedom to write anything I want on here without the fear that someone I know might see it and start judging me. And it’s also nice to have something separate that’s mine away from the other people in my life. Not that there’s anything bad about those people, it’s just I haven’t had the inclination to tell anyone about this blog. I guess it’s an insecurity thing, in a way.

The other great thing is that I know nothing about blogging. Like literally nothing. I’ve read some pretty impressive blogs since being on here and I wonder if some of the bloggers spend time planning their posts or following a template. For example, a picture that describes the theme their post is about. Or a certain direction that each of their posts should take. I have none of these. When I blog, it’s usually following some form of mood swing I’ve just had. Not always… but usually. xD I blog without a plan. I sign in, come up with a title that describes my mood, then start typing sentence after sentence that pops into my head. I type the way I think (you’re probably thinking that’s why it’s so messy. And you’d be right). Because this blog has become a place for me to vent all my emotions and worries and happy little events. I kind of don’t really think about how it sounds. Whether it really has that ‘future best-selling author’ finesse.

To me, they seem like disorganised, far longer than necessary, often random posts. But I don’t think to go back and fix it. Part of the reason for that is that I’m kinda in this place where I’m trying to figure out who I am as a person. And I feel like a lot of what I put into this blog is who I really am. Not the med student, not the friend, not someone who needs to be the person appropriate to the situation she’s in. Just me. And when these posts receive ‘likes’, It makes me feel special. As though that person does have a small voice that someone likes. hearing.

I’m not sure how we got onto the topic of blogging here, but I guess it’s the perfect time of the year (that’s going way too fast), to stop and say thanks to everyone who has been reading my blog and say how glad I am that I have this blog. Oh and sorry for another long post. xD

And here is a picture of a famous beach in Auckland. As it’s autumn here, the weather has been questionable. But I still got a decent picture as I stood over Piha beach reflecting on life. As all good authors do.

Piha view

Hope everyone has had a lovely first half of the year!

This Is What I Would Do

I’d tell you you’re being a horrible person.

I’d tell you you have no right to do that to someone else.

I’d tell you you were a hypocrite for causing a pain that is so familiar to you.

I’d stick up for a friend.

I’d be brave enough to pick a side and stick to it. Even if it were the wrong one.

I’d tell you what you were doing was wrong. Even if you were my friend.

I would never pretend to care and yet offer nothing.

I wouldn’t talk about you behind your back then continue the charade.

I’d defend you even when you weren’t there.

I’d loathe them for hurting you.

I wouldn’t be like you. Or her. Or him.

I’d get angry. I’d get sad. I’d hate myself.

And then I’d blog.

 

 

22 Too Soon

In 3 weeks I shall be 22 years old. 2 decades and a bit on a little ol’ planet in the middle of a small solar system in a smallish galaxy in a rather large universe. How bizarre to think.

Birthdays don’t bother me too much. I’ve never fretted about becoming older, nor have I yearned to attain a certain age. I simply look forward to who I’ll get to talk to on the day. (Because in this day and age, the only time you hear from people you haven’t heard from in years, is on that day that facebook notifies them it’s your birthday). I also seem to get the same questions I do from all my friends. I am the oldest among my school friends, so every year they ask me “how it feels” to become that age. Every year, I say the same thing  (“I still feel 12”) and every year I ask myself what’s changed, if anything. Every year previously, nothing had. But this year I think things have changed quite a bit.

Last year when I turned 21, I told people I still feel like I’m 12. Nothing’s changed. Nothing feels different. But I think I also meant that I didn’t feel particularly like a 21-year-old. Everyone says turning 21 is a big deal (I’m really not sure why?) I don’t get any special privileges.. I can already vote, drive and buy alcohol. I still can’t gamble till I’m 25 or rent a car. So for me, there was nothing special about 21. Also, I felt I seriously lacked the maturity to be a 21-year-old. I remember when I was about 5 or 7, I used to think of people who were 21, as adults. Like BIG adults. Like they’re essentially done with life. Not that they’re ready to die, but more that they would have seen a lot, experienced a lot, have a plan and direction, and just be put together enough that little kids would look up to them and think “I wanna be like you when I grow up!” But now that I’m 21, I see how wrong I was. I felt like I was a 12 year old. I was still in school, still living at home, still spending my spare time reading, watching TV, playing guitar, talking to friends and stressing about fights and wondering when things will start going my way. Not that any of these are necessarily bad things, because like I said, I’m still a very small kid inside that gets happy when my mum cooks one of my favourite meals even though I’m perfectly capable of doing it myself. But it’s just very different to the view I had of someone my age when I was younger.

Now, 22. What’s different? Well I feel like I’ve aged about 10 years in 1 year. Not physically of course (thank goodness). And not in filling any of those categories before about having direction, etc (eugh). But emotionally. It’s the kind of thing you feel when you realise songs like Adele’s Million years ago and Ed Sheeran’s Castle On the Hill actually apply to your life. You start identifying with the themes they sing about and you feel that emotion vividly when you sing along.

1 day, 1 person, 1 year, 1 incident can change literally everything about you and how you view yourself and the world around you. In this year, I’ve realised who matters to me and who does not. Who cares about me and how they choose to show it. I’ve realised what -potentially fatal- weaknesses I posses and how latent they have been for so long. Have I conquered those weaknesses? Nope. Perhaps I shall spend my 22nd year doing that. But I’m aware of them. Which is a start. Yes all of this can happen in 1 year. I feel emotionally much older. Experiences don’t really correlate with age, I don’t think. That’s why I find it a bit silly when people who are just about 30 etc. say that they’re so much older and mature than I am. Well, if you really were that mature, you wouldn’t keep saying it, now would you? I think maturity is that quality you find in yourself that allows you to be in peace and find happiness without causing any harm to anyone else in everything you say and do.

In saying that, I’m still insanely immature. I don’t feel ready to be 22 and face the realities to come. But time stops for no one I suppose!

Another interesting thought is that if I live to 84, I have completed a quarter of my life already! Don’t worry, I’m not one of the people that think with every birthday they’re getting closer to death! I’m more of a live-in-the-moment-and-don’t-worry-about-the-future, kind of person. (Think that’s immature? probably). May then next 3/4 of my life be more productive on the tiny little 3rd planet from the smallest star in our itty bitty galaxy in the gigantic universe.