the observer

There’s a lonely young girl, sitting on the sand and surveying her surroundings. She takes mental notes of the people around her.

There’s a group of teenage boys, having a game of beach volleyball. There’s a display of strong camaraderie, athleticism and energy. One boy misses the ball, the other guys jokingly headlock him.

There’s a group of toddlers - barely having gotten used to walking - trotting small steps along the deep sand. Some fall over; mums rush over and help their tots stand up.

There’s a young couple, laying side by side, head over heels in love, as if there’s not a care left in the world.

There’s an elderly couple, pulling each other along by the hand along the edges of the water. They twirl and begin to dance, letting the world see that sometimes, it’s the simplest things that give us the most joy.

There’s a father with two little girls, who whinge and whine and demand their dad’s individual attention. He sets up a kite and the girls laugh. Seeing this, he laughs, feeling relieved that he’s not doing such a bad job after all.

There are two women, jogging one behind the other along the high tide mark, welcoming the presence of the sun and the clear blue skies.

There’s a little boy, throwing his Frisbee as far as he can, loudly rooting for his dog Benny to catch it on the other side.

There are two young adults, shutting their novels and turning towards teach other to discuss and debate their literary adventures.

There’s a group of pre-teen girls, flicking the pages of the latest gossip magazine, whispering and giggling, oohing and aahing.

There’s a family picnic near the pier end of the beach. The parents, enjoying quality time spent with the family, prepare the food. The excited children invite the seagulls, serving them barbeque-flavoured chips.

That lonely young girl directs her eyes towards the sea, hoping that if there was another pair of observant eyes, they wouldn’t miss her solitary caricature sitting on the sand.

be yourself

I feel like I’m always trying to impress you. But the urge to strike you is sometimes so desperate that I make myself out to be someone I’m not.

I finally comprehend that pretending to be someone else is a dead-end road to unhappiness. It’s only now when I’ve reach this blockade that I regret going down this road. It seems so obvious. How could I be so stupid as to lie about my persona and still expect to live a satisfied life? How did I convince myself that the sealed off road was my desired destination all along?

I’m not proud of what I’ve done and I wish I hadn’t done it.

I didn’t want to let you down. I didn’t want you to find something in my true self that you weren’t expecting nor wanting to find.

Like now.

I just… wanted you to love me.

it's over

I trusted you. I confided in you. I supported you. I loved you.

What have you given me?

A couple of laughs aren’t what I call friendship. Not one that I had wanted. Not one that I want.

I’ve noticed this for some time now. I’ve put up with it, because I really thought we could develop some meaning in all of this.

But I don’t think I can. Not anymore. Not since I finally took a good look at how you treated me differently. Two words: a joke.

It hurts when I think that someone sees me that way.

I’m human too. I have emotions; emotions that scream to me that in effect, you’re even more of a joke.

So from now on, I’m relying on myself. I’m not going to let you bring me down.

It’s over.

i hate you because it's not your fault

I ask him what was upsetting him. I get no response. So I blindly console him. It’s times like these when sympathy works best, not empathy. You don’t need to understand.

But it’s not working. Every time he speaks, he yells. I apologise.

“IT’S NOT YOU,” he tells me. But he continues to holler.

Every single thing – even the minutest – pisses him off. Every word I say, he somehow perceives it as me acting “against him”.

I apologise again.

“I’M NOT UPSET AT YOU.”

Really? He has an odd way of showing it.

Whatever he is angry about; whatever his mind is preoccupied with, it doesn’t matter. He needs something, someone, to let his rage out on. And he has chosen to take it out on me. It’s frustrating; aggravating. Whatever it is, it wasn’t my fault. It’s completely unwarranted that I have to suffer his wrath whenever it suits his needs.

I want to help him. I genuinely want to, despite his undue rudeness. But I don’t know how. If he is going to reject my concern, then maybe I’m the wrong person he’s talking to. He should go and infuriate someone else. Someone that allows themselves to be a target of fury. A role that I, alas, refuse to play.

Nonetheless, he has turned to me. I can’t really pinpoint why.

“IF I DON’T EXPEL SOME OF THIS ANGER, I MIGHT GO INSANE,” he says.

And then I get it. I am the only one he can come to. It doesn’t matter to him if he tells me the whole story, part of it, or none of it. As long as I am with him; as long as he has someone he can trust, it will make him feel better.

I am that one person. Am I going to just shatter his confidence? Is my loyalty that shallow?

So I decide to go along with him. It’s exasperating, yes. But sometimes you just have to make that extra effort to bring someone back to their normal self.

In the end, they will show you that getting yelled at for no reason was for all the right reasons.

the lottery

We're all in the life lottery.

And the jackpot, luck.

Looks, family, friends, love, intelligence, career, fate.

More than six billion versions of life have been pre-written. No one knows for sure who wrote them; a higher force perhaps.

Each time a child is conceived, they are assigned a particular life. There's no favouritism in this or any sort of advantage that one would have over another. It doesn't matter who your connections are or how wealthy you are, it doesn’t change the way your destiny wants to plan out. It's all down to chance. The odds. How lucky you are. The shattering thing is, even though your destiny is yours, if you don’t like it, you can’t change it.

But even for the worst of lives, that change will come. It’s in one of the upcoming chapters of your life book. And you can only wait for that change to head your way. There’s no way it will come faster, or come in a different fashion. Every opportunity that arrives on your door step is written especially for you. Every prospect calls for you to gravitate towards it. No matter how big or small the change is, it’s there because destiny wants a better life for you.

So don’t fret about trying to shift fate. Go along with whatever life presents. That's when the life lottery becomes the luck lottery.

And the jackpot, life.

what are you staring at?

When you're in the car and you stop at the lights, do you ever turn to stare at the people in the car next to you?

It's just that tendency to just glance around when you're stationary.

They of course look back. Inevitably there's that moment of awkwardness and you just look away.

I must admit, I sometimes do this wittingly. I get so bored that I keep staring at people until they get so embarrassed that they turn away themselves.

I've had kids equally as bored as me respond by sticking their tongue out or making googly-eyed faces. And that's when I decide to retain my dignity and look away before someone more mature catches me out.

Today, as we reached a red light, I saw an old man in the car next to mine. I wasn't being weird and purposely staring this time, I swear. So I glanced over and I caught his eye (he was staring too!). When I was about to look away, his lips turned upward and he smiled. A genuine smile. It wasn't sardonic or creepy, but warm and sincere.

I had no idea who he was. I'd never seen him before in my life and I probably wouldn't ever see him again. But it got me thinking. Such a small gesture made my day. It brought such a sense of community; of support and love. The fact that it came from a stranger showed that it was universal. A simple smile can make anyone happy.

So I smiled back.