succumbing to materialism !?

I'm quite ashamed of myself lately, I find myself blogging less and less. I hope I will regain my previous habit of blogging everday, or whenever I get hit with the "blogger muse." So, I came back from my secret trip, and I gotta say, at first, it was exactly what I expected. However, things evolved for the better, and I ended up having.. one of the most interesting, exciting, scary, fun trips I have ever had. Fun because, well, anytime with him is great & fun. The interesting, exciting and scary part, I apologize that I will have to refrain from elaborating. Some people will be so shocked that they will want to pull my hair out. Well, not to that exact level, but I'm quite sure most people will be very shocked. In the negative way. For some time.

Anyways, about my title. Ever since I was 8 (which is the age that I arrived at America), I found that my dad often tried to find ways to - I guess- make up for the time he did not spend with me during my childhood. He definitely spoils me. I know it. I feel bad about it. I don't deserve to be so spoiled, honestly. I mean, for the longset time in my childhood, i worked so hard. But it wasn't to be spoiled. It was just for me to see my parents again. That sort of thing. Somehow, my dad formed this weird routine of regaining my love, which was never taken away from him in the first place. Basically, everytime that I cry, or when I am mad, sad, anything negative, his go-to method of recovery is through buying me things. I mean.. anything that I want. It scares me. I do not find any happiness in basing the simple emotion of familial love on... well, materialism. THAT. is damn intimidating. What is more intimidating is.. I find myself falling closer and closer to liking materialism. That's horrible. I do not want to forget what my gradfather taught me: to always be appreciative for what I've got, to never want more than I need, to always remember those less fortunate than I. I definitely appreciate the situation I'm in. I'm so damn lucky. I hope I can do enough to deserve what I do receive. I do remember those less fortunate than I. Although, I won't say that giving to every charity I know is true enough as remembering those less fortunate than I, but I certainly do try. I want to help people out. Now, about the second fact stated, that I should never want more than I need. that one is a hard one to achieve. I mean, I can afford the things that I need, along with many things that I want, so i end up feeding my own desires... even if they are absolutely useless. I want to stop. I do not want to end up like one of those spoiled girls on "true life - mtv- I'm a shopaholic." Really, I do not want to be a spoiled brat. Nor do I ever want to come close to acting like one. If i ever show any bratty qualities. please tell me. I will change. That is for sooth.

Okay, new topic. This is to all the people who love music out there. I don't know if any of you have ever experienced this, but it's - in my opinion - one of the most amazing feelings in the world. To really give yourself to music. I haven't tried it with playing piano, but with singing definitely. That experience of closing your eyes, saying those lyrics as though they were your own, put your own feeling to it, fall into the song, and just... make magic. I love it. I have to say, it gives you such a rush, and it's a very good stress reliever. Why? Because, you're pouring your emotions out, blocking out all the distractions, and just.. plain doing what you love. And after it, you'll find that you are in a state of happiness and joy because well, just plain doing what you love is.. amazing. Also, I find that if I put my whole self into a song, I definitely understand the song more, and I end up loving the song more.

SO, go out there, get rid of the distractions, and DO WHAT YOU LOVE.
Try it.
it's beautiful.

"Faire que vous aimez, est un cadeau"

uncomfortable.

I don't know if any of you have ever experienced this before, but it's bothering me quite a lot.

I know I'm supposed to be happy, and honestly I would believe myself to be happy, but for some reason, there's just this dark fog in my gut that's telling me " damn it, tiffany, you're unhappy." I hate it. I know it's probably wise to listen to something as ominous as a dark fog in my stomach, but I would much rather live in a blissful oblivion. That's not the only oxymoronic ache that's going on. Then there's the fact that I'm excited for a trip I've been planning for a while, and yet, something keeps making me melancholy about it. Maybe it's the fact that not only me, but someone else had to go through troubles, efforts, obstacles in order to make this trip kind of semi-work. And well, I'm quite a superstitious person. When something doesn't even plan out right, how will it be good in action..? I guess that's what my gut's telling me right now. " look at all the trouble you and (insert name here) had to go through in order to make this tiny little trip work. Is it worth it?"
Now, this is the thing that really really really bothers me. The fact that usually, I'd know the hopeless romantic in me would scream " YES! it's worth it!" THIS time, however, my conscience is split in half.
The Idealist replies: "Why, of course it is worth it! Why would it not be worth it? This is TIME! God-given, easily-grasped time! It's precious precious moments FED to you. Take it."
The Cynist argues: " Well. It's not like you did not see what happened last time. Time isn't time together if well, technically, you're not together. You know that. You don't like how that feels -- being ignored after toiling and striving to get there.. to receive what? Time to read a book and magazine? You have that at home! Why be excited?"

Well, I'm going no matter what. Whether or not I'll be content, that is to be determined. Although, I've found that whenever I'm within a 5-feet radius of (insert name here), I usually end up happy. I'm just quite skeptical as to how things will turn out. Like last time? Or.. different...?

For the past two days, I don't know if it's because I may be PMSing, or it's because of that dark fog of unhappiness is in my gut, I just keep sobbing.
1. I'm REALLY glad about that because my contacts make my eyes so dry, I thought i lost the ability to cry! haha.
2. I really would like to know why I'm crying so much. :/

Everytime I think of the phrase "always second best," tears just can't help but escape.
Actions speak louder than words.
Words...are so easily transformed into lies.

I am pretty damn sure, that there is no way that I can be the top of the pyramid, the most Imp0$%@^%, the most tr3@$^&#&. No matter how many times you say it, words are just words, and I wish that your actions could prove those words. I wish I could be beguiled, so I could fully believe exactly what you say. I want to believe. Actions just disprove those words at times. So What am i supposed to believe if actions contradict words...

force.

There is absolutely one thing in this whole world that can, and will drive me crazy. It is one thing that I can not comprehend, understand, or try to comprehend/understand. It is the one thing that will make me want to go to drastic measures. No matter how extensive the measure. What am I talking about?

Well, you know how in those typical teen angst tv shows, the kid ends up following the path that the parent chooses? Then the path rebels, and somehow in this beautiful rainbow filled sky scene, the parent realizes. " oh shit, my kid is right. This is his/her life. Not mine."

Damn it, I really wish one of those scenes would happen in my life. I basically want to self induce a heart attack, and maybe that'll make my dad understand.
Direct quote.
" You have to be a doctor. This is your life. You're going to be a doctor. That's the only way you'll survive. Go to that medical program. Become a doctor. Nothing else. What else can you be?"

FUCK.
I never thought that I would have to face such a problem. Honestly, my whole life, no matter what I did, my dad would be the one supporting me, pushing me forward. What the hell happened? I don't even know what I want to accomplish in life. Since when has it been marked that I am destined to be in the medical field? It is the only occupation that he is sure of. It is as if he is so narrow-minded that nothing else exists. What if I wanted to study psychology?
His reply was " oh no, you're going to become a psychopath. Be a doctor."

God, please help me out.
I know i'm supposed to appreciate all the things that my dad has bestowed upon me. And you bet, i damn well appreciate all those things. Why the hell else would I be attending a school I do not like? I would give so damn much. I just can't give away my discretion, especially when this choice has to deal with the rest of my life, and my potential happiness in life. I want to do waht I want. Please.


I don't know if my dad will ever understand. No matter how much i scream my lungs out telling him that This is my life. Not his.
He always replies with the same answer
" this is for your own good. i care about you. now, go be a doctor. That is your life."
How does he know?