Trapeze Edge

My name is Echo.

Yes, ‘echo’ the reflection of sound, or ‘echo’ from Greek mythology.

The nymph who was cursed to forever repeat the words of others, having no words of her own, at least no words of her own which she could verbalize. She could think the most fanciful of phrases, most eloquent string of words inside her pretty head but none of these words will ever be heard.

All people could hear was their words in her sonorous, blue voice.

Shout ‘hello’ into a cave, Echo will reply ‘hello’,

Ask ‘who are you’, and Echo will repeat ‘who are you’.

She can never say what she thinks, never have to think about what to say, because the voice she has isn’t hers to possess.

So similar to me.

The only difference between Echo the nymph and Echo the human (me) is that, she once had a voice of her own. I never had my own voice. The voice I have is the voice of everyone else.

Tell me,

How should I feel about that?

CHAPTER 2

Me

I am thirteen this year. A cursed age. Why? Because I’m not a kid anymore, but neither do I feel old enough as a teen. It seems as though I’m in between. Does the ‘teen’ at the end of thirteen affirm my status as a teenager? I don’t really know.

I like the color violet. Last time I’ve heard, people who like purple are ‘quirky’ and ‘unique’. What if everyone starts to like purple? Does that make everyone ‘unique’? Or do those initial purple lovers lose their identity as the ‘quirky’ and ‘unique’ people? I just like purple; especially violet, do I need a reason to justify this?

I am a Singaporean, and I’ve been residing in that sunny, tiny, red dot since 1996. Bad climate, okay people, good food.  Singapore is pretty simple, come to think of it. A student’s life includes mugging for examinations, worrying about results, tormenting ourselves for our grades, either failing or attaining our expectations. Then the lax side: eat, sleep, the occasional outing with friends, a respite from exams… not much thrill, but not much toll either. Studying is painful. But most of us are already half accustomed, half resigned to it. It is this monotonous obligation we students have to fulfill, and accept it, or reject it; you still have to face it.

I am a defensive person. I am decked out in full armor, and shield, almost all the time. This way, I’ll never be susceptible to vulnerability. I hope.

I am a taciturn person. (Taciturn is a more complex word for quiet. I suspect my teachers look up the thesaurus for synonyms of ‘quiet’ every year. ) I have once suspected that I was autistic. But that was just mere speculation on my part. Am I really autistic? Geez I think I’ll stick with taciturn, or ‘reticent’ (another synonym of ‘quiet’)

I don’t really know what I am. But it’s alright. Because teenagers, pre teens, or in between teens are supposed to not know who they are. It is called ‘identity crises’. I’ll try to come up with a lucid explanation of ‘who I am’ when I have more free time on my hand, but for now, make do with the vague one.

I am a short, average-weight, bespectacled in-be-tween girl named Echo who is usually rather quiet, I think too much, talk too little, and read just right. I don’t have great interest in anything, but I think Greek mythology and words are interesting.  And I think self introductions are excruciating and unnecessary.

Let’s adjourn to the next page of my journal, shall we?

Take care I’ve been hurt before

Too much time spent on closing doors

You may hate me, but I’ll remember to love you

Goodbye

Don’t cry

You know why

And it’ll be just as quiet when I leave

As it was when I first got here

I don’t expect anything

I don’t expect anything

You think you’re invisible, but I see you.
You break, you bend, you disappear and everybody here
stares. Maybe you should just go farther.

I don’t think I’ll ever be sorry. 
No I’m not sorry for a thing I’ve done,
and I don’t think I’ll ever wake up lonely.
‘Cause having her around wasn’t all that special.

blogsecret:

I want to marry the perfect man.
I want to have the perfect kid.
I want to live.

Then I want to die the day after all of this is accomplished, so I’ll have people to miss me.

我自有分寸,我虽然不是个乐观的人，但是我才不像你，只会批评别人，过于傲慢，以为自己所做的都是正确的。起码我不会装快乐，起码我还可以区分什么是真，什么是假, 起码我会面对事实，我会面对生命，我会面对自己的缺点，自己的短处。 起码我的生命不是以谎言为据。