Monday, 15 February 2016

Searching for self


Conformity: A green seedling that grows and develops within us, pushing through the soil, slowly unfurling, reaching for the sunlight, stretching, standing tall, sprouting new leaves. The more it pushes upward, the more it strangles. Eating your beliefs. It’s a voice in your stomach fighting against what you believe; a devil in disguise. It’s sticking to a group, the way you act, complying to everything everyone does. We don’t follow our hearts. For me it is a struggle, I am born to stand out but, I still try to fit in. I just follow the norms not knowing what they do to me.
In my life conformity is a ritual, an essential part of my life. “We fear rejection, want attention, crave affection, and dream of perfection.” (Economic Warfare: Secrets of Wealth Creation in the Age of Welfare Politics, Ziad K. Abdelnour) We don’t want to be left out, we need love and life should be perfect.
Conformity doesn’t allow us to follow our hearts. Where I go to school, everyone's the same. I walk through the hallway and there is one thing I notice; everyone is the same. They wear the same thing all the time. They are so similar yet so different. They are the same on the outside but on the inside they are fighting to keep their secret locked away. Most girls in the popular group wear makeup, nailpolish and do their hair. It’s their morning ritual. When you don’t comply to their norms, they talk about you. When you are around, they are quiet. It’s dead silent and as soon as you move, the loud scary rumors start.
The internet really is just a way of being accepted. I carefully watch what I do and notice that there is repetition. My routine, it’s the same everyday. I get up and the first thing I do after brushing my hair is check my Instagram feed. One of the main reasons I check my instagram is to know EVERYTHING. To stay up to date, know the latest fashion trends, accessories and hairstyles. I need to do what everyone else is doing, I can’t stop myself, it’s an addiction. Instagram is like my alarm clock, wakes me up, snaps me back into reality.
Why do I care so much about all this? It’s my need to ‘fit in’. Fit into a group in which I don’t even belong. I don’t want to change myself to ‘fit in’ or be exactly like the person I am talking to. Why do I have to follow them, even though, I don’t want to follow them?
If I don’t follow all these people, then who will I talk to and what will I do? There is no answer to this question. I do know that we are taught to conform and follow the ‘right’ way to do something.
One thing that was spoon fed to us all since we were little is how we need to be, there is this image in our head that we need to become, and now we have an image we have in our head. A tall blonde girl with blue eyes just like barbie. And to become this, we need to conform to the groups we are in. But, why is there this need to conform? This has become such a big part of our lives. Sometimes I don’t even realise. I am so caught up in my life to see what is going on around me. We have to follow what they say. We should look, talk and act like them. If we become like that then we ‘fit in’ and if not then, we can’t stay in the group. When, we don’t get in then, we have no friends. We are given the title of a ‘NOBODY’. A ‘nobody’ belongs nowhere. A nobody is a nomad, they roam the world looking for somewhere to go. They don’t know where they are going, the same way a ‘nobody doesn’t know what they are doing.


You become the person you follow. The biggest question is… Why is it bad to be different? People say that being different is good, being you is good. If this is the case; then why do we conform?

Monday, 18 January 2016

Perhaps inspired by Shu Ting

Perhaps the oceans we travel
will dry up
Perhaps the world
will end in drought
Perhaps the fire
will become bigger
Perhaps our anger
will consume us

Perhaps the light
will find its way through this darkness
Perhaps this broken heart
can come together
Perhaps the dead seeds
will sprout
Perhaps all our sadness
will come to an end

Perhaps
Our desire to attain security
offers hope

Monday, 30 November 2015

The real me

You say it makes me perfect,
I can become perfect?
My dream has finally come true.
It makes me look stunning,
and essentially what you call flawless.
And the path to flawlessness is…
makeup.    


And guess what?
There’s all sorts of it,
Eyeshadow, for your eyelids.
Blush, for the apples of your cheeks.
and things for contouring like bronzer and highlighter.
It can also look natural.
But how?
That’s not you!
You still say ‘#no filter’ ‘#no makeup’


You also say,
I can get myself together with a little bit of assistance.
Makeup is not for everybody,
at least not me.
Why don’t you understand?
Makeup is nice but, everyone has flaws.
Don’t make me hide my flaws,
that’s what makes you human.


I am me.
I don’t need to follow you.
I don’t need to ‘fit in’.
I am going to be me.
And I am not going to forget to be myself.

Sunday, 22 November 2015

The conversing paper!

Take 1. We are starting in 3...2...1...and now. I don't know how or when or even why, and guess what I don't even want to know if I want to ask you. Asking you a question is like asking a wall if it wants to drink water. You have not been able to be of any help or at least until now.
“How could you possibly help me? Can I trust you?” I asked.
“You can trust me!” the paper winked and replied.
“I am so confused. Why should I trust you? Will you be able to keep my biggest secret?”
“I can and I will keep your tiny, little, stupid secret.” the paper sassed back.
“Well, why should I torture myself to get something out on you. Not everything that comes out of this pencil needs to be vomited on you. And can you stop? Please stop. Oh. My. Gosh. Stop staring at me like that. Who does that?”
The paper casually replies, “I do I do. The words.”
“Where?! They aren’t going to come. You see, I don’t like writing. What are you talking about?”
“You have to believe in yourself. You wanted the words to come and now they are here. Now you just have to start writing. Trust me you're going to be great.”
“Ok fine!” Pushing the negative thoughts away from me, away from my life. I really need to stop being so rude and start thanking people for helping me.
“What happened now? I just helped you,” the scared paper replies.
“Nothing happened. This is nothing new for me! I do this every day. (Oh no! It's coming out, the secret that I am actually like a coconut; hard on the outside and soft on the inside. As my friends call it, the nice tanya.)”
The paper starts conversing with the pencil. “She is going to start writing in 5...4...3...2...1...and now.”
And it came out.

A few minutes later...I wrote what you are reading right now.