My name is Michael Rivera and I am a Filipino-Chinese, 18-year-old student living in Canterbury, but originally from Hong Kong. My parents divorced when I was two, and when I grew up, there were two sides of me: the wild, outdoorsy, gutsy side, and the conservative, intellectual, scholarly side. I spent two years living beside a beach in the countryside. It was then that I learned how to swim, how to fish and how to ride a bike. I love the outdoors, especially when having barbecues and hiking. Outside of that time, my more studious side of me reads, writes, and has a great interest in a broad range of subjects including: television and film, travel, anthropology, human cultures, linguistics, food and drink, psychology, philosophy, literature, forensics, Greco-Roman mythology, European history and politics, South American culture and geology. My deepest love goes to, well, my best friend. But the love that exists just a tiny fraction below that amount of love goes to television series, beautiful beaches, lime margaritas, and books considered classics.
Feel free to e-mail me if you have anything you want to share, suggest, criticize, inquire or comment on! :D
For those of you who have stopped by to just find nothing here, I am so sorry to have abandoned you like that. It's been a busy week with an important essay due and a test to take, but all of that is behind me now, and I've had thirteen hours of sleep since all the craziness ended because I was utterly exhausted from all the work and reading I had to do. It is such a relief, and I should be rocking the blogging world for the remainder of March or so, on all four of my blogs, so you can look forward to that just as I am looking forward to writing them and reading your comments.
As I was saying, getting all of that university stuff out of the way is such a relief. There's a certain lovely feeling you get with relief, the relief of being able to eat after hours food-deprived, when you finally conclude your conclusion of your essay or report, as you're reaching the end of that final downhill rollercoaster ride, and when the buzzer goes off and you win the basketball game by just one point. Relief is that satisfying, calming feeling you get right after you find out that the sky isn't actually falling.
I find that one thing for me that distinguishes a good friend from a great number of acquaintances, or a loving family member from a large number of relatives, is the number of times they provide me with that feeling of relief. Everytime I feel like I'm about to breakdown and submit to the pressures in life, my parents, my family, and my best friends are there to not just tell me that everything's going to be okay, but also explain why and how it will be okay.
It's impossible to be one-hundred percent independent, co-dependency is crucial for anyone who wants to survive. Since the New Year, I've noticed that I have gradually become less reflective and less mindful of myself as I've become more and more entrenched into my studies and the things I have to do. It's mostly because I just have a lot of things to do, that's all. It's simply a matter of not having enough hours in the day to find time to sit back and relax.
Ah, but now I get to do just that for a couple of weeks.
Have you ever done anything, or wanted to do anything, that you know will not be look at lightly by others, because you know it's ethically controversial area you're treading on? I'm thinking of things that stir up a whirlwind of emotion inside you, as the thrill of trying not to get caught compels you to do it, to continue to do it, things that are immoral and wrong, yet you deem to be necessary for your well-being, or maybe perhaps even your survival? There's also the tinge of fear that comes with being judged by the people who know you, from maybe having to face disappointed loved ones if they ever found out, from having to face the isolation people may subject you to, if you were ever going to get caught.
Four years ago, I was expelled from my first secondary school for stealing money. I'm not going to get into the details of such pilferage, but let's just say that I deserved to get kicked out.
At the time, I thought I had to steal, and I truly believed that there was no other way for me to enjoy life if I did not steal. Of course I bloody Hell knew it was wrong to do so, but I did it anyway because I felt I needed to. I'm not going to sugarcoat it - I was greedy, I was selfish, and I didn't care what my close ones thought of me - I did it. And if I could go back and make that decision again, I would, with a hundred-percent certainty, steal again.
I tend not to judge people who are caught for committing crimes, in terms of these actions that are often so clear-cut immoral in the eyes of society. I don't like looking at things that way, I dislike looking at things from the majority's perspective. I guess I have an irrational fear of being normal. (I tried to look up the technical phobic term for fear of conformity, but sadly couldn't find one. They should invent a term for it.)
Anyway, if everybody thinks someone is acting crazy, I try to help said maniac and listen to what their problems are. If everyone hates this guy for being a total idiot, I will go and talk to him, and tell him that he needs to change his ways. And if I found out somebody got expelled - I wouldn't blame him. Everybody has their reasons to do things, and every situation can be looked at differently. Why judge him? How does that help? What if you were put in that situation? Would you want to be abandoned? Would you want to be judged?
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