i like myself more when i was younger.

when i was younger, i remember watching the world with rose-coloured lense. true, i was caught up in my own world, but it was also a much happier place to be. i strived to be the best that i can be; to continuously improve myself and make myself into a better person.

i was considerate of others' feelings, holding my tongue when i know my comments may hurt or discourage. i tried to offer a helping hand whenever i get the chance. i loved and was loved in return - by friends and families. i trusted and believed and was always around to lend a listening ear. i enjoyed and appreciated everything that was given to me; be it materialistic or in the natural surroundings that enveloped us. i worked hard and played hard - pushing myself to fully optimise the time that was given to me. i had dreams, i had goals, i had motivation.

now, i look back sorrowfully and wonder what happened to the young me; the one who was young at heart. the one with all the spirit and fight. living in the adult world, i am constantly surrounded by lies, greed and corruption. whilst i try hard not to be cynical and lose faith in the goodness of mankind, i sense i am fighting a losing battle.

the dark side is slowly luring me to their realm. already i am cynical when people talk to me. all round me, people lie. some to get what they want, others just because they can. what kind of world are we living in when people lie just because they can? who do we trust?

i am afraid of helping because i fear of being exploited. we hear so many stories of people being robbed when they stop to help a stranded motorist. or cheated when we trust strangers. i was once approached by a stranger in a shopping centre for some money to make an outstation phonecall; i choose to believe but i know deep in my heart that this was a ruse.

when a car stops to ask for direction, my first thought would be of wary, and a reminder to myself - to maintain my distance in case they attempt to bundle me into the car. when i see a beggar in the pasar malam, i remember the story of the professional beggar who has a mercedes and bungalow. when i see donation drives by huge corporations, i wonder how much of the money will reach their intended recipient. i am surprised when strangers are friendly and immediately think of their ulterior motives. i maintain my coolness and aloofness to keep my distance. when repairmen come knocking, i cannot leave them unattended or trust them to keep their hands off my belongings.

i procrastinate many things because they do not bring me joy or satisfaction. i am always around, but not in soul.

i don't like the person i have evolved into. and i don't like the society which has made me like this.