tika kamarazaman: 2019

Image by Biljana Jovanovic from Pixabay

It has been a pleasure with sporadic sprinkles of pain and sorrow to be with you.

When you came, I was eager to make you my year. My soul was full of enthusiasm and excitement to make the most of you. I even bought a planner - all determined to make you as organised as possible. I was also determined to make sure that when you came, every path that I was going to take would lead me to nothing but pure joy and happiness.

But when you actually raised your curtains, reality dawned on me. It was definitely not going to be a smooth-running show. The audience wouldn't always laugh at my punchlines the way I imagined them to. The props wouldn't always be set in place and on time the way they were during rehearsals. I wouldn't be consistently in tune when I performed the musical numbers.

Dear 2019, you have been one of the most memorable years - both in the "you've opened a number of doors for me" and the "you've kicked me in the ass" sense.

First, let's talk about how you've been an unforgiving ass-kicker.

You've challenged my emotions to heights and lengths that I had never imagined any year would. I experienced days when getting out of bed felt tiresome and all I wanted to do was sleep to shut the whole world out. I faced days when I had to walk on eggshells and making sure that everything I did was immaculate. I had nights when I became so well-acquainted to the sound of my own sobbing. Even worse, you left me with no options other than having to adjust to having a stranger as a roommate. That just meant when I cried, I had to do it silently. I had to stifle my sobs under my blanket so that I wouldn't wake her. Crying is painful; having to pretend that you're not is even more excruciating. But it's okay. I'm in a better place now.

And hell, you also had a lot of surprises in store for me. I had to rekindle relationships with people I had not met for years. I had to pretend that whatever incidents that took place five years ago were merely fabricated realities, forged out of spite, anger and frustration. I had to go back to places that I hadn't been to for so long. It was not easy. But it's okay. I did (and am doing) those for the people I love.

You've led me down roads where I had to encounter people who seemed to have zero knowledge of what common decency and respect are. Months after your arrival, 2019, I found myself at war with my self-esteem and confidence. I struggled with a negative body image. I became so hateful towards the numbers that I saw on the scale. I became hateful towards myself. When people said "you look fat" to me, I went home and reinforced that statement onto myself. When people held my arms and told me how big they looked, I went home and wished I looked differently. But it's okay. I've learned to be comfortable in my body now. It's one of the hardest journeys I've ever embarked on. I've encountered red lights, but red lights aren't forever.

It's unfair to disclose solely your punches, hits and curses. It's time to talk about how you've also given me remedy and blessings.

Months after your arrival, my family and I moved to a new home. When we moved here, it also meant we moved away from a toxic and suffocating living space - far from demeaning, back-stabbing, two-faced companies. It feels so much freer and happier here. After so long, we finally have a place we can really, genuinely call 'home'.

2019, you've also given me chances to change the way I perceive friendships. I used to feel like I was nothing but an option to my friends, so I was never really good at sustaining friendships. But this year, I have grown closer to my small circle. I can actually be myself! I don't have to uphold and carry the weight of that pretentious image of "having everything together" which had been imposed on me for years. Because I really don't. I'm just as messy and uncertain. And my friends are cool about it. At least I think they are. Oh God, I HOPE they are.

I'm doing fairly well in my studies. Being a TESL major has been....well, challenging, to say the least...but being surrounded by supportive people makes it a lot easier. I've also picked up a new instrument, so my three-piece dream collection is finally complete! And 2019, you've rekindled my love for writing poetry and short stories too. I stayed away from that kind of writing for quite a while, but this year, I've realised that I still have a soft spot for them. Who knows, maybe I'll write a novel one day. And by one day, perhaps...in 2020. Speaking of writing, I've penned some of my favourite lyrics I've ever written in my life. 2019, you've probably awakened the writer in me - the one that had fallen into a deep slumber I thought she would never bother to open her eyes again.

Dear 2019, you've also taught me about relationships. You've made me realise that goodness, I'm a bad communicator. I never say what I feel. And you've taught me to put down my guard and listen and not see every syllable as a battle cry. Even though you made me question a lot of things sometimes, you taught me to pause and reflect. Above all, you taught me to listen, to myself and to the other person.

I think one of the most important lessons that you've given me, 2019, is that I have to learn to say "it's okay" to myself. If I can give away forgiveness so relentlessly and incessantly to other people, I can surely do that to myself too.

So dear 2019, it's okay if you haven't been the best and the most amazing year. It's okay if you didn't treat me the way you treated other people. It's okay if I can't relate to their "this year, I'm the happiest I've ever been" posts. I'm still thankful for you. It doesn't mean I'm any less deserving of happiness.

So long, 2019. Dear 2020, we'll do better.

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Image by S. Hermann & F. Richter from Pixabay

My mother fell asleep in the living room tonight.

Usually I would just let her sleep until it's time to wake her up so that she could go to bed. She always has so much to do during the day, so I don't have the heart to disturb her peaceful sleep so soon. But tonight, I felt a bit selfish. I felt like I needed more time with her. I silently and quite foolishly cursed time for passing by so quickly that it was already 10 p.m, which means my mother would no doubt lose to drowsiness - no matter how tough of a fight she tries to put up. And so I went to her. My mother's not a heavy sleeper; the slightest movement and noise could easily wake her up. As expected, she immediately woke up when she felt me near. Instinctively - as if knowing exactly what I wanted - she made way for me and I lied down next to her.

I hugged her as she slowly fell into a slumber again. I closed my eyes and listened to her steady breathing. In that moment, I wasn't a 21-year-old student trying to get a degree in TESL, who's feeling anxious about entering third year and trying to be distracted by listening to music and watching Netflix. I wasn't a girl who's currently battling her inner demons who are ever so adamant in trying to convince her that she's not as strong, positive and happy as she claims to be. In that moment, I was just a daughter hugging her mother - hoping that to her mother, the embrace was as gentle and as loving as those countless hugs she always generously gives to her daughter.

I don't really remember anything that happened before I was six years old. But that's okay. At least, this limited storage still allows me to recall that one important moment when I was six and God showed me a proof that my mum was indeed a hero. I was waiting for my parents to come pick me up from pre-school. Every one of my friends had gone home and I was the only one left. Then, a couple of older boys came and picked on me because I was much smaller and defenseless. I mean, I only had a yellow belt in Taekwondo at that time, so what could I possibly do? Before it could get any worse, my mum came and saved the day.

When I was 14, I had to make visits to the hospital to see the orthopedic specialist because my knees were in pain. I had to make appointments for rehabilitation. In the process, I got made fun of because I was too young to experience that kind of pain. But my mother knew my struggles and how painful it was for me. She loyally accompanied me to every hospital visit and every rehab session. She never felt like her time and energy were wasted even though the blood test result came in and no one knew what was wrong with my knees.

When I was 17, I went to a public restroom alone. I'm the kind of person who would check whether there's water or not before proceeding with whatever business I have. Apparently, there was no water that day. So I went out of the cubicle. And I saw my mother outside, with a concerned look on her face. I asked her why she was there, and she said she saw a man coming into the restroom. If she wasn't quick enough, only God knows what could have happened.

I can list down endless examples of how my mum not only saved me from harm that other people could inflict on me, but also harm that I could inflict on myself.

When I was in my final year of high school and preparing for the big examination, she was there for me to make sure that I didn't feel alone. At 8 p.m every single evening like clockwork before I began my revision session, she would make me a glass of iced Nescafe. I would study in the living room and she would accompany me until I was done at 11 p.m. When I came home crying after I sat for that devilishly difficult Additional Mathematics papers and thought I wouldn't be able to get a good grade, she comforted me. She even got me some chicken rice. Honestly, how much better could it get from there?

While I was stressing out over one of the assignments I had to do during my third semester, she stayed up until 1 a.m (which is a rare occurrence) and stayed online on Whatsapp to check up on me. She must have been sleepy and tired and her day would start in five hours; but she was risking it all just to show that she believed in me - even when I didn't believe in myself.

No matter how much I have grown, my mother would always have my back. She still makes iced Nescafe for me as if my life depended on it. Every single time I worry about not doing well in a certain semester, she would comfort me and lift my worries off my shoulders. She's brilliant at being the best of my support system. But then again, she's good at a lot of things. Perhaps the only thing she's not good at is telling me exactly how much salt I should add to my cooking.

I hope to be as good, loving, kind and gentle as she has always been to me.

My mother fell asleep in the living room tonight. I lied down next to her, listened to her steady breathing and prayed to God that I would never run out of chances to listen to it.

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Thank you to @soolooka on Instagram for the beautiful and empowering artwork above! Feel free to visit their account for more fascinating art.

If I'm being honest, I've always found "self-love" a difficult topic to address. I used to think that preaching about it would make me a hypocrite since finding things that I love about myself was a scrimmage that I couldn't seem to escape from. That's why I truly admire those who can apply that concept so well in their lives. To me, they are almost indestructible. You try to bring them down but they'll rise above it. Deep down, I wanted to be like them. And even deeper down, I was angry at myself that while everybody else seemed so at peace with themselves, I was still in the realm of self-loath.

After I got home for Eidul Fitr and the semester break, I met a lot of people that I hadn't met for years. While my greetings for them would come in the form of polite handshakes, hugs and hello's, their greetings for me were "you look fatter", "why did you put on so much weight?", "look at these chubby arms", etc. Some of them would go so far as to grab hold of my arms and waist to confirm the physical changes that they saw.

I'm not sure if where I live in, that is the socially accepted way of greeting someone you haven't met for a long time. But I just stood still and pretended to be unperturbed. I guess my respect for these people was larger than the respect I had for my feelings. Perhaps some might say that I should have asserted myself and made it crystal clear that I was uncomfortable. But sadly, sometimes assertiveness - despite how necessary it is in such circumstances - would be easily mistaken as sheer impertinence.

It's actually terrifying how big of an impact words can carry. Due to that kind of situation occurring over and over again (I can safely say everytime I meet someone, they would always have something negative to say about my body), consequently I found myself joining those critics as they made comments about my figure. I started to become a highly meticulous critic myself, who refused to let any faults go unnoticed. From solely condemning the size of my body as I looked at my own reflection, I began to abhor my acne-prone skin. I even started to treat my personality traits as a defect in my system. Things like "why am I not as funny as her?", "why am I not more outgoing?" and "I'm not fun to be around" became a mantra that I would repeat time and time again - the way I would put my favourite songs on repeat.

Maybe some people would find this statement disappointing, offensive or just overall bad. Trust me, I don't find it any less disappointing than you would. But I think for one moment, I was almost....angry at God.

That self-loathing and self-downgrading went on for a few months. I'm not exactly the most optimistic person out there, but I can say that I used to be someone who would try to fend off pessimism from overwhelming me. But there and then, ironically, I found myself hitting rock bottom.

At one point after drowning myself in self-hatred, I realised that I was becoming tired of giving those people the authority to govern and navigate my thoughts and how I should view my own body, personality and self-worth. I was also getting drained from the excessive self-deprecating humour that I claim to be my so-called coping mechanism. I was feeding my mind and soul with severely judgemental words. I knew I had to put a stop to it. I have enough people criticising me, so why am I pouring fire on propane? Why should I become an even stricter, a more merciless critic?

If those people are not kind to me, why can't I be kind to myself?

I came across this quote by Jim Rohn: "You cannot change the circumstances, the seasons, or the wind, but you can change yourself. That is something you have charge of." It was one of the things that has helped me to come to terms with the fact that I am indeed in control of where I choose to go from that unfavourable situation. It's perfectly okay to be upset or offended by those people's careless words. The good news is I have the authority and control over how I act upon it. If they want to be harsh, let them. I can't control them and some people's obliviousness to how rude they sound is difficult to deal with. Besides, it's almost impossible to stop people from giving their own interpretations and judgement towards a work of art. But on my part, I have the power to choose to be more lenient, more merciful and more forgiving towards myself. I definitely have the power to water down this raging inner critic.

So I've been spending time practicing self-forgiveness and started to react more positively towards those comments. I still consider them, but only as a catalyst for awareness on how I'm really doing in life - whether I'm living a healthy life or not. I've been much kinder to my body, I give more positive affirmations and I try to accept compliments without feeling too skeptical. It's a good practice since sometimes we forgive other people but it's so difficult to forgive ourselves.

Rather than becoming a raging, unforgiving critic, I would like to be more of a friend to myself - a friend who's willing to point out what I'm doing wrong (developing unhealthy lifestyles, etc), but is considerate and kind enough to guide me towards betterment, instead of merely showering me with bitter and debilitating criticism. That's the kind of friend that everybody looks for in life - so why not become one for ourselves?

Now back to the beginning of this post. Am I now on the same level as those people who are at peace with who they really are? Absolutely no - and I shouldn't be angry about it. Like everybody else says: self-love is a process - a journey. Making slow progress doesn't mean I'm going nowhere. Even experiencing relapses doesn't indicate failure. Everybody's journey is different. The Earth takes 365 days to make one complete orbit around the Sun; Venus takes 224 days while Jupiter takes 12 years. But each planet makes up a beautiful, breath-taking solar system that's worthy of admiration.

We are all worthy of admiration - only if we allow ourselves to be so.

Be kind to your body, mind and soul. Have a great week ahead, everyone. 💖

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If I thought I knew what exhaustion really means, then I might have to take a step back and re-evaluate. There has been a lot to do these past couple of weeks. I've even developed a more intense love for afternoon naps. Not that it wasn't intense in the first place.

Anyway, I wasn't really sure what to write about for this post. When I started this blog, I made a promise to myself to post weekly, at the very least, to ensure consistency. I went back and forth from wanting to write an album review to wanting to write a little something on music recommendations. However, there was this one tiny thought that kept on bugging me at the back of my mind - it was almost like pleading me to write a post about it (it's a dramatic description, I know). Here's the thought: life has indeed been quite strange for me.

My sister got married recently. That explains all the hustle and bustle that's been going on. It still feels foreign to me, especially when my sister's the only sibling I have. We have a six-year age gap, which makes it totally understandable if we have very differing point of views towards a lot of things. But she's always been my rock. She gave me my name and taught me how to read when I was five and it took her no more than five hours or so to get me to achieve fluency. She was 11 at that time. When I was frightened to the guts from my very first "sighting" of the moon time, she was the one who taught me how to deal with it. I guess I can say that apart from being my sister, she's one of my very first teachers as well. She's always mistaken as the younger sister and she takes pride in that. I'm always mistaken as the older sister and I'm ready to fight anyone who dares to say so. People say we have the spitting image of each other, but we're far from alike.

And now she's a married woman. Weeks before her wedding, while driving around town, she kept on telling me how worried and scared she was. Not because her colleagues were constantly throwing around R-rated marriage jokes; but it was more towards her worrying about the added responsibilities she would have to bear as a wife, a daughter and a daughter-in-law. I simply told her it would all be okay. I knew from the deepest part of my heart that she would take on all three roles wonderfully. But upon hearing the lafaz akad nikah during the solemnization, a selfish part of me wished that my sister and I were back at the moment when we were driving around town, listening to a whole lot of Taylor Swift, BTS and Hindi songs. When I heard the akad, I could feel how time didn't just flow; it cascaded and God, at that moment I was ready to trade my world for one more Sushi date with my not-yet-married sister.

Life hasn't exactly been strange because my sister got married to the man she loves. Life has been strange because I never expected that I would feel that way. I didn't think I would be that selfish. But then again, life surprises us in many ways.

I suppose I felt even more overwhelmed when I realised that a greater sense of responsibility has been placed on my shoulders. I never thought that I would feel that way, either. I mean, there is that negative stigma surrounding the youngest child of the family, claiming that we're spoiled and unperturbed, after all. My parents only have me and my sister. As my sister now has more parties to consider other than my parents, I'm now the only child who only has them to think of - at least for now. Hours after the kenduri (a feast for Malay weddings), amidst my lassitude and strong urge to head to bed and call it a day, I recalled how throughout the kenduri, my parents' friends kept on telling me, "You're next." Typically I would have giggled in glee and anticipation. But that night, I just felt fear and sadness creeping in in lieu of the glee and anticipation, especially when I thought of how I would be the last child that my parents would have to 'let go' one day.

It's not just the post-wedding feelings that made life seem a bit odd for me. This past week has been full of other surprises as well. I happened to reconcile with a few people that I hadn't met for at least six years. The next thing I knew, I was back in my hometown that I hadn't been to in forever. I crossed paths with people that I didn't expect to meet again. I never thought that it would all occur within the span of one week. I was puzzled. I was confused. I wanted to view all of it as mere happenstance, but happenstance doesn't hold that much power to leave you thinking and breaking down at 1 a.m. For someone whose mental state isn't at its very best, it is a lot to take in.

Hence, I was brought to the realisation that you can never really completely understand God's works. Mystery will always be part and parcel of them. Time will surely unfold the silver linings behind every event and it's okay if you don't have absolute comprehension of what's happening just yet. I mean, I honestly don't really understand why I still have a difficult time adjusting to the fact that my sister is married and the greater sense of the responsibility that I now have towards my parents. And I certainly do not understand the reconciliation that took place a few days ago. But desperately trying to search for the silver linings in every corner isn't going to help, either. The safest way to deal with everything that's going on now is to embrace, accept and believe in the Almighty's plans.

You've probably had enough of the sentimental tone of the entire post, so here's a picture of me and my sister on the day of her wedding.

I'll see you in the next post. Take care and have a marvellous day. ❤

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Frankly, I can count the amount of Korean dramas I have watched by merely using my fingers. My sister has been trying to convince me into watching more of them but it's a futile attempt, I might say. Perhaps the number of episodes that most Korean dramas have and the length of each episode are the things that I find quite unappealing (I mean, I'm an avid fan of The Good Place for God's sake - in which one episode takes up only 20 minutes or so). But of course, I can't deny that Korean dramas usually deliver remarkable plots so I guess I have been missing out.

I asked my sister if she could recommend me any Korean dramas that don't have 'romance' as one of the central themes (no, I am neither heartbroken nor am I currently in an angsty, "I don't believe in love" stage of life). She then suggested me to watch SKY Castle, which was aired circa 2018-2019.

Equipped with the awareness that this particular series received ratings as high as 9.6/10, I knew that I was in for a treat. It's a 20-episode satirical dramedy commenting on Korean education system. It sounded like it would educate me whilst screwing me up emotionally - killing two birds with one stone - so I crossed my fingers and gave it a shot. Thank God I didn't let my disinclination to watch dramas that exceed 15 episodes engulf me. SKY Castle has proven that it is absolutely deserving of the acclaim surrounding it.

Before I start my review, I'd like to note that SKY Castle taps into issues that might be sensitive and triggering to some (note: suicide, self-harming and depression).

Let me give you a gist of what the story is about. Initially, there are four families (Kang, Cha, Park and Woo families) who are a part of the SKY Castle community - with SKY as the abbreviation for the top three universities in South Korea: Seoul National University, Korea University and Yonsei University. The families are wealthy. Like, crazy wealthy that they could easily purchase my entire existence. With all the money that they have, they have one common obsession: getting their children to enroll in any of those three universities mentioned above. And mind you, they are willing to do anything - literally anything - to accomplish that.

It's not an exaggeration. The social setting established in the drama accurately reflects how excessively competitive the Korean society is when it comes to their children's education. After all, secondary education in Korea, above all else, is college admission based. Much of their education is focused on competing to get a place in reputable universities. Consequently, Korean children would have to attend private after-school academies, resulting in their going home at 11 p.m. So you can guess that the children's mental state while in the process of achieving that goal is almost entirely neglected, which explains the abominably high suicide rate in the nation.

Going back to the drama, the story begins with the only child of the Park family, Young-jae, getting a place in the medical program in Seoul National University (SNU). Of course, the family is over the moon since they have something to brag about. The other families? Well, of course they're happy to hear the news as well. Showering the Park family with compliments on how smart Young-jae is becomes their forte - but only because they would like to know the secret behind his success. From thenceforth I could really feel a sense of foreboding and it was proven true as all hell breaks loose when something happens to the Park family. Then, another family (the Hwang family) moves into the family's residence in SKY Castle.

The families residing in SKY Castle (Read the theories on the meaning behind each family portrait here.)

The story progresses with us following each family's dilemma: Han Seo-jin (of the Park family) is caught up in trying to enroll her daughter, Ye-seo, into SNU's med school like Young-jae. She's willing to go extra miles to make that happen. Noh Seung-hye (of the Cha family) is distressed by the educational and life values that her husband has been consistently forcing down their children's throats. Jin-hee (of the Woo family), despite having a desire to enroll her son in a medical school, seems more laid-back. But her problem is that she's a very indecisive character, with no clear stance on what and who she believes in. On the other hand, Lee Su-im (of the Hwang family) is a loving mother and writer, who is determined to write about the Park family's tragedy. There are some other conflicts among the husbands of these four women but going there would cost me to write a much longer entry and as someone who's not used to writing reviews on a blog, I can only do so much SO PLEASE WATCH THE DRAMA!

From here, I will be including some major spoilers so if you're thinking of watching this drama and you'd like to be safe from having the plot spoiled, then calmly stop reading. 😜

The prime focus of the drama is placed on Han Seo-jin's story. She's very, very hell-bent on trying to make her daughter, Ye-seo get perfect scores in every examination in order to secure a place in SNU's med school. And so is Ye-seo. And I, as opposed to that, can never relate. Long story short, Seo-Jin decides to hire an exam coordinator named Kim Joo-yeong. Apparently, she is the one in charge of coaching Yeong-jae in order to get him into SNU's med school....and look what happens to his family after he is accepted. So, connect the dots, ladies and gentlemen. I won't go into further details on what really happens but I can assure you that the drama surely exposes you to conflicts upon conflicts and provides you moments where you will question what is real and what is not.

I really love the character development in this drama. Most of the characters appear to arrive at their own thresholds and afterwards, experience growth in the way they think. Personally, I really love Noh Seung-hye's character development. She's one of the characters I have always been attracted to since the beginning of the drama. Living in a patriarchal household, her opinions are often shut down by her husband. She cares deeply for her children and watching her husband pressure their twins, Seo-joon and Ki-joon, devastates her but really, she doesn't have a say in that matter - thanks to her husband who's keen on getting their children to the top of the social ladder, or 'pyramid' in his case. However, Seung-hye realises that she needs to put an end to it. It's enlightening to see a woman who has been kept silent by a man reach a point of realisation that ~~men are garbage~~ she does have the right to voice out her opinions on the way they should monitor their children's studies. She receives all of my applause when she brings down the suffocating study room that her husband prepares for their twins. Like...you go, girl!

Apart from that, I also like Ye-seo's character growth. This might be a very unpopular opinion since Ye-seo is basically a spoiled brat. Trust me, I found myself hating her more and more by each episode (kudos to the actress, Kim Hye-yoon, for taking on that role so well). But the more I think about her character, especially towards the end of the drama, the more I feel like we can't completely blame her for her mad fixation on getting into SNU's med school and her overall self-centered attitude. We definitely can't be mad at her for being so dependent on Coach Kim, either. Sure, it's annoying when she keeps on pushing her mother to let Coach Kim remain as her coordinator even when Seo-jin thinks that it's a precarious idea. But can we really blame her for that? Yes, she herself deeply desires to become an SNU medical student but her parents' own obsession can also be a catalyst for her obsession. Seo-jin and her husband, Joon-sang are also the kind of parents who treat Ye-seo like a trophy to brag about, which can also drive Ye-seo to become the self-centered student she is. As if whatever she does is justified and can never be wrong. Let's talk about her excessive reliance on Coach Kim. She wouldn't be overly dependent on Coach Kim if it wasn't for her mother introducing the idea of having an exam coordinator plan everything out for her to help her get into SNU. As a result, Ye-seo seems like she can't do anything on her own when before that, she got into Shin A High School top of her year by herself, without any help from any exam coordinators whatsoever. Thank goodness Ye-seo also reaches a point of realisation that helps her to have more faith in her own capabilities.

These two characters bring us to one of the paramount messages that SKY Castle intends to deliver to its audience apart from the harsh truth of the Korean education system, which is regarding parenting. Comparing children to a blank canvas is not groundless. The way parents choose to shape their children has a huge effect on how the children behave and view the world, as portrayed by Ye-seo and her parents. I was also raised in a household where getting good grades is prioritised but I'm grateful that my parents are not too strict if I slipped and got a grade below their expectations, so I can see how it has shaped me into a person who is well-aware of how important it is to work hard and be successful in my undertakings but is not too pressured to please my parents. Honestly, I think I am more pressured by my own self. Anyway, going back to parenting. Of course, it's undeniable that most Asian parents tend to push their children to become very "exam-oriented" and it would probably take centuries to abolish that orthodox value. It's not exactly a bad thing to practice, but a limit needs to be made clear. Take Seung-hye's twins for example. I'm pretty sure that they're not the type that is unwilling to study. In one of the scenes in the drama, we can see that Ki-joon can actually solve a complex Mathematical equation under four(?) minutes. But their father's methods in monitoring their education and how he constantly forces his expectations on them are the things that lead the twins to losing interest in studying.

One last thing that I would like to talk about is regarding (MAJOR SPOILER ALERT) the ending of the drama. The final episode ends with a shot of Coach Kim smirking at the camera, which might imply that she has been released from prison and is still very much determined to prey on other families. But that's not too logical. I agree with some opinions stating that the ending symbolises that although the four families have resolved their conflicts and changed their sentiments towards their children's education, the society outside has not changed. There are still people like Coach Kim who have malicious intent and there are still families who are obsessed with getting their children into esteemed universities, by hook or by crook. I love that message. It might tell us that although we, as the audience of the drama, have gained awareness on the reality of the education system - either Korean or our own nation's - there is still much that we have to do to curb the existing problems that revolve around the system and even the way our society perceives education. But here's the thing - it is not impossible.

I had a good time watching this drama - laughed, cried, grew attached to some of the characters, hated several of them and did some self-reflection. If you've watched the drama, feel free to share your opinions as well! For those who have read this humble review of mine and are interested to watch this drama - if you want a drama that serves a good plot, lasting messages concerning the devastating reality of the world nowadays, stellar performances from the actors and the actresses as well as comedy, I assure you that SKY Castle should be at least added to your list, if not at the very top of it.

Thank you for reading this long review! Have a beautiful day, everyone. ❤

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The idea of creating a whole new, fresh blog from scratch seemed very exciting. It was definitely one of the things that I had placed at the top of my mental to-do list, but of course - being at the top of the list doesn't always mean it would be the one to be ticked off the list pronto. Sometimes none of the things on the list are ever accomplished.

Anyway, after putting off the idea for so long, I finally mustered all of my energy and willingness to sit down and venture into Blogspot. I contemplated at first since I already have my Wordpress. I mean, I do have some decent writing posted there. But in hindsight, I couldn't help but notice that the writing did not reflect who I am. When I re-read the posts, they sounded almost...pretentious. I kind of sounded like I just wanted to impress people.

Then, I expressed my desire to start with a clean slate to one of my favourite people on Earth. "The posts I wrote don't sound like me. There's a lot of pretentiousness and distortion going on. I want to start anew." But what he said to me afterwards changed my perception.

"I don't see it that way. You've just progressed," he said. Then, I thought - maybe the writing does not reflect who I am anymore. It might sound pretentious to me now, but that does not invalidate the fact that the writing did come from the person I was months and years ago. That doesn't make the writing any less authentic and real. Whatever I was feeling at the time when I wrote all of those posts - they were real. I just don't feel that way anymore. I don't feel like writing about the things I used to write about anymore. There are things that I've grown to love - things that I hadn't encountered before this - that I want to invest my time and energy to write about.

So am I back to square one? Not really. I'm simply resuming my journey - however cheesy that may come across to you.

I'm honestly tremendously thrilled to write about a lot of things here: life in general, music, movies, TV shows and topics that excite me and I'm passionate about. I sure do hope that you'll like them.

Till the next post. Take care of yourselves 💕

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Image by S. Hermann & F. Richter from Pixabay

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