Seeds of hope

Stage 1

Seeds of hope are sowed carefully onto you knowingly or unknowingly by a sower.

That sower can be your mom, dad, your friend, your enemy, a stranger, God, the universe or even you.

Hope for love, hope for money, hope for happiness, hope for more; different seeds like these are sown.

When sown, you think nothing of it. What it would do to you and What you would do.

Stage 2

A seed of hope has been planted.

Every day is spent in agony wondering how the seed is growing.

Many a times, growing these seeds are good. The nature of it is what matters. In this case, a bad seed has been sown.

A small seed is enough to cause a massive stir. The smallest insignificant detail slowly tends to outgrow the practicalities in you. It descends upon you and drives you into madness slowly.

I am exposed and stripped to my very core. I need an armour to fight off the delusions planted by my sower.

It takes days for the seed to develop into something.

There is still hope for it not be something.

Stage 3

The seed has begun to sprout under the watchful eyes of the sower.

When the pests try to contain the seed from growing, the sower adds fertilisers to your mind protecting you from the realities outside.

Seasons change, different conditions and temperatures have started to affect the seed sown. It is rising and nothing seems to snip it down. It is seeding now.

With all the right conditions, it will turn into a sapling. A step closer to a greater fall or a greater good. I am not sure until I am provided with the cirucmstances.

Stage 4

The seed has sprouted into a sapling.

A sapling is under nurturing, being nurtured to be a part of something big and unknown.

It continues to grow without no feller cutting it down. It would have been an easy and sad death with minimal consequences.

It is growing to withstand amongst the harshest of conditions and very little gentle breezes.

Some one cut it down before it matures into a tree. I beg of you. This tree will only end up in a sad demise once grown.

Stage 5

During the fragile years of the sapling, it had been fed false hopes that could have been true if fate had not altered the plans.

If the feller or the sower would have shown mercy, this tree would not have to suffer for as long it was intended.

This tree could have been snagged at the very beginning but instead, it has chosen to grow and be in the wild.

Since it has matured to its very peak, no one no longer showers it with love or give it a pretence of a false hope. Instead, it is now slowly beginning to survive in the wild, learning, watching and suffering.

Stage 6

As the tree starts to grow older, the hope starts to die by bits.

The tree learns how to live with what it has been given but the sliver of hope still remains. That sliver of hope drenched in fantasy is what might keep it going. A fantasy of being nurtured and loved.

The regret of that hope sown is evident. The tree no longer stands with the vigour its predecessor carried. It now stands cracked, grey and leafless.

The decayed bits of the tree return back to the soil, its nutrients waiting to be soaked by the future seeds.

One will never be lucky enough to reap the fruits bore by the tree.

I guess that seed was sown just to be killed later.

Going back “home”

This was written in Dubai a while back and I forgot to post it but I am doing it now…

Upright on the hotel bed I sit with my laptop trying to create sense of what I want to write while my lower body is snuggled up in a big white comfy duvet. I am trying to gather sense of what I feel at this point. I am confused. 

I am in Dubai now, my home or so I felt. I had come here along with my dad for a few days to meet my best friend and well to be in Dubai. I missed it and I wanted to know how my home felt. I was so excited to be used to the old comfort this home once gave me. 

It was around 4 or 5 am on a Friday that I reached. In this hometown, as soon as the people left office/school on a Friday, it symbolised homecoming and we welcomed the weekend. Radio Jockeys wished us to start an awesome and chill weekend and that’s what many of us did. As soon as Saturday evening rolls over, we knew it was time to say goodbye and a rather dull hello to a Sunday dawn, where we had to go back to life, school and work.

As soon as I stepped out from the airport, the humidity extended its welcome by fogging up my glasses. I knew I was home. 

It was that time of the day when the whole city was asleep and there were just a few cars on the road. Nothing much has changed except something. 

While going to the hotel in the taxi, I looked out with so much of fondness and nostalgia outside remembering every memory that took place wherever I looked. My dad and I reminisced at the memoires our family once made at these places. 

As I started remembering more, waves of memories hit from every place I went. When I looked out now, I felt like a stranger roaming around in known lands and not of a kid whose home this was. 

There was something so different in the air and in the atmosphere, I couldn’t put my finger on. I was staying in a hotel in Bur Dubai. 

Back then, I lived in a big old off-white building right here in Bur Dubai. My whole life was consumed by that building. The hotel I was staying in was just behind that big old building which was once home. 

As I looked around where my old home stood, there was so much of change not in the physical sense but more so in the energy and vibrancy of the place. It felt abandoned even though people live here. 

From the days I lived here, I remember how Friday mornings were an embodiment of hustle and bustle. Families went out to get breakfast and did their routine shopping from super markets. There was always something or the other going on and now no one in the streets. Maybe a person or two but that’s it. 

I guess it was the heat that kept people from going but back then, there was still hot scorching heat and people still went out. So, what’s different now?

I was a stranger now. I had been from my home so long, so long that I don’t recognize it any more. It felt as if home died the day I left. I am sorry. 

As I am writing this, I am still trying to understand what I am feeling. It is a pang of sadness and disappointment not because I left this home or some nostalgia. I am just sad and upset because I have finally realized I don’t understand my once upon home anymore. 

I feel guilty for wanting to leave this place. I feel like it is bad of me to feel guilty about this feeling because this has been my home for so long and how can I not like it? How can I just not like it anymore? 

Back in Singapore, I thought I missed Dubai dearly and would do anything to go back but now I have realized, I miss the life, friendships and memories I had. I want to go back to that old life in Dubai. That is what I wanted, not this new one I am put in. 

When I have to leave on the 7thback for Singapore, I don’t feel I am going to miss Dubai, the place. 

For a fact, I know I am going to be hurt when I leave my best friend who lives here. I surely am going to miss the places I always like to go to but again it was that life and that moment of that place. 

I am going to miss the luxury of looking at these places that remind me of my memories, yes, I am going to miss that not anything else I feel. 

When I say I miss Dubai now, I miss that old life, not the place anymore. 

I miss that life and the reason I feel I belong here or even want to come back is for that nostalgic memory and for my best friends. That is it, but when they leave, then what?

I guess I will still come but just for that memories. 

I am always going to be a Dubai kid, but not in the way some people have defined it. I am an old Dubai kid who loved her life here. This was my home once but not anymore. Dubai is always going to be a part of me. 

After all these years, I finally realize what home means. I thought home had a lot to do with physicality but no, as long as I am with my mom and dad and my best friends, I am closer to home. When I have to be truly at home, I also have to embrace the place I live at. I have to be happy and content with the life and role I am doing. 

I want to call a place home when I have it all going. 

Now I know what I missed all this while when I was at university crying, it was that life, that feeling. It is all clear now. 

It was not home I missed; it was the life I once had. 

Some Times, Many Times

Some times, I wish I did not have to account other people’s feelings into consideration before I erupt.

Many times, I unfortunately do so and then regret it the moment later. I am now learning to care more and I understand that now.


Some times, I wish I did not live in a world where life is this unfair.

Many times, I have no other choice but to live in this unfair world.


Some times, I wish I had all the time in the world to do everything I want without the need to worry for money

Many times, I fantasise about doing so but ultimately fantasies lead you no where. So I am doing my best and working hard so that I have the money to do everything I want and hope.


Some times, I wish I did not have to live a life where I only remember sorrows and seeds of hate

Many times, I have now realised this is the life I was given and there is nothing I could do to change it


Some times, I wish I could share more

Many times, I understand why I haven’t


Some times, I wish not to be consumed by the idea of love knowing what I expect will never happen

Many times, I let it happen


Some times, I wish I could leave for the woods and a city like New York

Many times, what I do instead is I listen to music and watch videos that make it possible


Some times, I wish I was more creative and not filled with remorse or self doubt about what I could do

Many times, I believe I am more than what I think and believe but my doubts plague me down

Some times, I loose my sleep and mind thinking if I will ever make it

Many times, I doubt if I would make it and Many times, I have hope that I will make it.


Some times, I wish the world could be a better place in terms of everything

Many times, I wish the world could be a better place in terms of everything and I try doing my bit to make this world a better place for everyone and everything. When it succeeds, I am happy and inspired to do more.


Some times, I wish I had not watched that many movies which have now influenced me to think that my life could perhaps be like that

Many times, I am glad I have watched those movies because that is the only way I could ever live a life like that


Some times, I wish I did not have to feel so much

Many times, I am glad I could feel the way I feel


Many times, I feel my heart shatter at the sight of homeless people and the jobs one needs to do to have a living. I wonder what can I do to help? Then I realize, by growing up and getting a job, I can do my bit for them.


Some times, I wish I could do something about the dark desires I want to do

Many times, I have chosen not to act on it because I do not want to take part in painting the world red contributing to everything bad


Many times I wish I did not feel a burst of sadness and sympathy when I look at old people who remind me of my grandparents

Some times are the only times I take an action to spend time with them.


Many times I wish I were not engrossed in my laptop and on my phone

Sometimes I decide to spend some time in the outside world with my family and that time is actually worth spending.


Some times, I wish I was not given this life. I wish I had been offered a choice for a life I wanted to lead

Many times, I am glad I got this life but the hope still lingers


Some times, I am envious when people think of my life not exciting as other

Many times, I simply do not care and move on


Some times, I wish I had a sibling so that I would never fear being alone when my parents leave me

Many times, I am glad I am the only child in my family because I love that I am the sole receiver of all their love


Many times, I wish I could lie down in a room so high with a view that overlooked the city lights listening to music that make me feel everything

Many times, I find myself wishing to be in a cabin in the woods amongst the forest listening to the rain and writing

Many times, I find myself dreaming of being in an apartment so high where I could see the rays of the sun spread across the whole city.


Many times, I wish I could honour every promise I have made to everyone I ever love

Some times in many, I have honoured those promises


Some times, I wish I had a best friend who was all to myself. A best friendship like Miley and Lilly, Alex and Harper and like the F.R.I.E.N.D.S

Many times, I am so blessed to be in best friendships unique and happy to me.


Many times, I dream about a love so great that the whole world will write stories about someday.

Many times, I understand the probability of it not happening. Many times, I come to terms of my reality and what is offered.


Many times, I wish I was handed a childhood where I did not have to see my parents fight a lot.

Some times, I wish the Armageddon would come and sweep it all away.


Many times, I wish I did not have regrets in life to look back upon

Some times, I realise those regrets were needed for me to learn but I cannot help thinking on how they could have been avoided. I guess that is just my mind. Never satisfied.


Many times, I wish I had not kept so many secrets from my parents. I wish I could have let them know it all but I know I will be judged, possibly even worse.


Many of the times, I dwell in the nostakgaix of my childhood and wish I were trapped in that state forever

Many of the times, I am glad I am growing up to be more independent and free because I can edit my own path and see where it goes. I am happy for the freedom I get and for the chances I can take. I am also happy because of the progress in growing up because I get to be further away from all the fights I have to witness.


Some times, I wish I never left my home

Many times, I am glad I did but then I weep at stages


Many times, I wish people could see me through my eyes and not theirs

Some times, I am glad that is not the case because through different eyes, different and unique perspectives come out and you learn a lot more that way. You know they like you or do not like for who you are from their eyes and not from the monstrous eyes you have. It makes things slightly better in many ways.


Many times, I wish I could be happy with the way I am

Some times, I am very ecstatic and proud and then the other times I am not and I wish I could change every single detail about myself.


Many times, I wish I could show people the changes I wish they could bring upon themselves

Some times, I ponder on why they can’t see what they do.


Many times, I wish life had not handed me the atrocious parts in a sliver platter

Some times, I understand why life handed me them. To make me grow or I deserved it?


There are going to be plenty of these some and many times in my life and I know I can do something about it or nothing at all.

I will try and achieve as many of these some and many times in my life but also what I like to do instead is to fantasise and think of the possibilities rather than end my misery because there is something in this misery that keeps my mind alive and ticking.

In doubts

I am in this weird emotional space not knowing what to write about. Now this is different. This is not a slump. I know exactly what to write about but I am not sure if I am ready for the world to uncover me.

I want to go more in deep with my emotions and stories, I want to write more of what I feel and hide but I am afraid that once the truth comes out, what will that do to my close friends and family? My relationship with them would be affected. I don’t think I am ready for that big of a risk.

My past posts does not mean I have not been writing about myself and what I feel. It has been and every bit of those words were true but those were less terrifying real versions of what I feel. There is always so much more.

I have so many of my emotions in words and I want to put it out there but I am scared of how that would go with the people I love and the society I am put in. I am not afraid of the world but sadly I am afraid of putting it out with so many familar faces who claim to be friendly.

It is upsetting having to think of what my society would think of me and my family because of the struggles I have been put through. I wish people wouldn’t judge as much but I guess that’s the duty of some people; to judge.

Many of the people in my society look for reasons to put us down and to make a mock of us. They use our sadness as a reason to inflict joy in their lives. They are the genuine and true Schadenfreudes.

Until I decide what I want to do, I am going to take a small break and decide what I truly want to do about these thoughts.

I am slowly going to start posting pieces from the past. There are countless pieces I have written and it would be nostalgic and great to see what mind space I have been in that time. I could maybe post them in the original form or add more to it.

I have always thought about how liberating it would feel once you put down all these pains that weigh you down, and now I am at that conflict. I have put them down but I don’t know if I am ready to post it.

How do I get ready?

Questions and Answers

( A white space surrounds the two people. The fog from the small window open creeps and settles in the room creating a hazy atmosphere.

Two black chairs are present in the middle of the white room with a black table separating them. They are on opposite sides of the table making it easier for them to talk

Various tools are kept on the table and the clock ticks but not so loudly where that tick becomes the only noise in the silent room.

They are on opposite sides of the table making it easier for them to talk)

Myself: I want you to just sit there and listen to me. When needed and appropriate, you may ask me questions to further question my thoughts but unless I say so, I do not want to hear an objection or a rebuttal. I just want you to sit there and listen to me.

Stranger: I understand, I will do as you asked me but before we begin. I want to know why me, a stranger? You could have had anyone but why choose to talk with a stranger?

Myself: I am sick of keeping every thought I have to myself and I want to share it with someone who doesn’t know me on any basis. I want to talk about things and begin a conversation on a new plate. I did not want to talk to anyone who knew of me because they will already have pre concived notions of me.

I wanted something different and some times a stranger seems to be the only one you can turn to because it feels liberating to talk to someone who doesn’t know you entirely so you can open up the deepest and darkest version of yourself withiut having to worry what they would think.

Stranger: I am not afraid. You can tell me whatever you wish and I will sit and listen. Now go on and liberate yourself.

Myself: I like my dark side. I have only imagined what it would feel like to embrace it and commit every sin I ever wanted. I do not know why I ever feel this way but that is what I felt. I always pushed it into the deepest corner of my heart telling myself this was all very foolish but I could not keep lying to myself any longer.

I wanted to know how it felt having someone’s life end by me. I wanted to be the reason to see true fear in their eyes. I tried it for the first time, I don’t think I enjoyed it very much but I liked it. I did it again and then I did not know when and how to stop.

With each people, I got a bit better and versatile.

No one wanted to listen to how I truly felt. No one ever bothered to ask how I was doing. No one ever bothered to find out anything. So I decided I wanted to do my sin.

Stranger: How did it feel?

Myself: Liberating…

Stranger: Why did you feel the way you felt before you did your sins? Why do you say no one listened?

Myself: I do not know. I had the best of friends. They were there for me when I needed them and I guess I was there for them as well. I had fun times with them but none of my friends knew what I hid.

I felt like I wanted to talk but I couldn’t bring myself to it and in the case of my family, I felt by talking about my deepest feelings would concern or disappoint them. I felt at distress even at the thought of having to open up to people who knew me well.

Stranger: I understand why you chose to talk to a stranger now. Starting on a new front, very few people get that chance. I hope you don’t mind me asking but could you tell me how you did it?

What made you choose me and the people before me?

Myself: I do not know what reason to give. I guess I went with what my heart felt and well also with a bit of research. I was afraid of robbing the world of someone too good and pure, so I had to make sure.

Not that you were not good or pure, you did your sins and you know.

As for my process, I can tell you it is quite theatrical and simple. Something you might see in a movie but painted with a dose of reality.

A new person, a new different approach is what I go for many of the times.

I sit him/her down on the cold white floor that has not been used for a while. In the background, I play them their final song so that they can have something beautiful to listen to when they depart.

Each night would be a different song with a different person. I am going for the vibe I feel. Whilst the track plays, I listen to the words and then look out to the person sitting in front of me. I notice what they are doing in their final moments. I sit there and observe.

As the final note gets ready to end, I decide it’s time. I go behind, then choose a tool to slit their throat and watch the blood flow onto the white floor. What a beautiful colour, the blood. It would not be like the movies where the blood splatters. It would be like blood flowing gracefully to paint a picture.

I watch for a while and then decide to end the suffering. I do not know how I would end it but quick and easy is what I would go for. I guess my technique depends on the person and their virtues.

For a person with not so virtuous sins, slow and painful might be the route I would travel on and for the opposite, slow but quick is what I would choose.

After they depart, I get up from my chair, switch off the lights and leave. I do not look back because the show has ended.

Stranger: I see. It is interesting to hear what you said and I am sorry no one wanted to listen. Maybe they tried to make the effort but maybe you were not ready for it. I do not know what else to say but I am happy you talked your heart out. No secrets to burden you. You are liberated right? That is what matters.

I would like to ask you one more question. I apologise in advance if I have offended you but I need to know.

Have you ever considered killing someone close to you? Would you do it?

Myself: I am not surprised you would ask me that. I don’t know why, I expected it to be asked. Since no one asked, I did not think of an answer and now that I have been asked, I guess..

I guess when it comes to my family and my friends. I have thought about it but I would never commit it. I don’t think I could stand the thought of having their deaths by me. I don’t think my heart has it to look at their eyes as their life leaves them.

Stranger: A selfish answer but understandable. So now that I am done with the questions, do you have anything you would like to say?

Perhaps an other conversation before I am liberated of my sins.

Myself: No. No more conversation.

( puts on a song from a carefully curated list)

So, Here is the deal, you listened and that is all I ever wanted. You listened giving it all you got while others listened in sheer fear.

I forced them but they didn’t listen. I forced you but you listened.

So here is what. I will let you choose. Slow and quick? Easy and quick? Slow and painful? Easy and painful?

Stranger: Slow, easy and quick. Would that be possible? I would like to relish my life one last time before I leave. I do not do well with pain.

Myself: Your wish is my command.

(takes the decorating knife from the varied selection and slits throat leaving an extravagant design on my neck)

Stranger: (Watches with all curiosity and confusion) What does this mean? Why?

Myself: (mustering up all the courage and strength for one last sentence) You listened.

The lights start to flicker. The colour fades, the room disappears, yet the tools on the table still remains.

Stranger: (wakes up groggily and confused) Where am I ?

Myself: That was quite the sleep you had there. You must be very confused now.

All what happened in your sleep was defintely true except for the last. That is what I call your imagination taking the best of you. You do not need to know the details of how and when your imagination took the best of you.

Everyone before you listened, doesn’t mean it makes you special enough for me to give you up.

So, now that is done, I am sure you are well rested for what I have in store for you.

(Muffled screams try to escape the room but of no avail, stranger cannot be heard and will never be heard. Creative and intruguing ways to kill are being done with different tools. A new person, a new different approach.

The screams stop, the walls are decorated with red. The job is done. Out the black door, I walk out with a smile plastered on my face.

I have done my confession and my sin.

Who next? )

Why have feelings when you can toss them out?

Will there come a time when I run out of things to write?

Sometimes I imagine a time and a world where we humans do not have any feeling and emotion. We are there to simply exist and nothing else.

What would happen to the world and us?

If I did not have feelings, I would not be in unwanted situations and I think that would be nice.

A world where feelings and emotions were non existent. A world where imagination were non existent. What would become of us? What would happen to me? What talent would I or the world posess if none of us could react to it? What talent would I have or do if I did not have the feelings in me to decide?

If not for the above, would our world even progress? Would this world even be worthy to be called the name “world”? What a bore would that world be.

I often think and am always in deep thought about this situation. Why do I need to have feelings about anything? Why was I not given the ability to not feel and be unresponsive to everything? If that were to be the case, what kind of life I lead?

An easy one but it won’t be called a life.

Sometimes I wonder if not for my feelings, would I have anything to write? If not for the stories I am in, would I have anything to write? If not for using my imagination, would I have anything to write? Am I using the world to find stories to write? Am I using my emotions and feelings to write? But isn’t that what writers do?

It would become a world not worth living in but how would we know if we did not posesses the things that made us feel? This feeling of the world not being alive can only be felt when we possess that feeling but if not, would it be easy and warm to live in this comfort?

Many of the times, I am grateful to feel many things but I am also emotionally tired and utterly devastated to feel it. It is exhausting having to feel and wanting to feel. Sometimes I feel I should get rid of the parts of my brain that causes me to feel and emote.

I do not know what to do when I face emotions I don’t want to face even if they are nescessary for me to progress. I do not like to feel emotions that make me heavy in my heart. I do not like to feel emotions that are filled with tears. I like being in happy thoughts and being in a world where my fantasies come true, but that’s not possible and I am okay with it.

Maybe I can choose not to feel some of these things, but what good would that do to me if I can’t accept them as a part of me? I can’t run away from them and I don’t want to. Each of these feeling helps me somehow, I just am not sure how but I know they do help in some weird way.

I think I embrace them but not well. Who am I to determine that? I don’t know on what basis I am making this deduction.

It is the bad times that make us feel this way. That is when the good times help.

I just look out at the world and I am thankful for every feeling and emotion bestowed upon me. If I were incapable to feel, I would not have had the joy and sanity when I looked outside.

If not for these given feelings, I would not have had the capacity to fully immerse in wonderful experiences I have with my family and friends.

I feel happy when I go out for a walk listening to mellow tracks. That gives me the warmth and resolution to keep going and to be inspired. I have my faith renewed once again and a hope that I will do just fine.

I would not lie when I tell you that I am in a dilemma with matters like these. At times it seems so good but at times it only pains. I will always have my reactions to life and I guess nothing could change that. I could perhaps learn to react better and not let it hurt me more than it should.

These things are out of control and that is why being human is the most difficult job in the entire galaxy. It is a constant state of managing them in various ways best suited to you and for the world outside.



It was an on the spur ride

              
Let me paint you a picture here. A picture of what I did. 

I roamed around these streets filled with skyscrapers that soared up so high in the sky. 
I knew they are so high because I simply could not get them all to fit in one frame on the shot I wanted to take.
I feel oddly at home even though the home I once was in was miles away.
I felt at home when I came here, I guess it was those big blue windows that reflected light made it home. It was perhaps those big skyscrapers in the city and the bay front I once knew of made it home.  

After admiring the building, I walked along the bay, A view that needed admiration. Everything lining up waiting to be awed and gawked upon. 
I took selfies of myself being happy and silly to capture these moments, so that when I look back on these pictures, I am able to remember the moment and what I liked to do. 
Looking at the water, then onto the buildings and the statues felt pleasant and calm. 
It gave me a whiff of nostalgia and provided me with the city magic I needed. 
I was alone in this adventure of mine. 

Right beside the bay walk, there was a small green ground where the food festival was about to take place.
I saw families, friends, couples walk hand in hand smiling and admiring.
I liked the presence of myself. I could not create any chaos or unhappiness to myself in such places.
I admire being in them but could not help on how it would feel if I were to be with family, friends or a lover. 
A moment of happiness couldn't seem to last longer than a few minutes before the storm hits my family. It doesn't happen all time but it happens. I wasn't keen on taking that chance, not today. 
 
I saw people eat the delicacies from different stalls with their friends and family. Enjoying and laughing, having a good time. Being around this whole celebration and looking at it made me feel awkward. 
It made me feel like I was supposed to be with someone, anyone just so that I could pass as someone blending with the crowd. 
I then looked around if there were people like me, alone and enjoying.
Not a lot were there but yes, there were some. 
I realized then, why am I being so bothered about this? I am having fun and enjoying. Isn’t that the point after all? 
Why risk bringing a factor that could cause you to frown and worry? 

The past and the present has made me afraid to bring along a family along with these adventures. My happiness fades away as soon as a dispute occurs. It happens quite commonly. 
Sometimes I think it is me. I think I could be the reason these moments of unhappiness occur. The past and the present are continuously proving so. 
This is why I venture out alone, not that I don’t mind it most of the times, but sometimes when it gets lonely, it is good to have a hand with you. 
I look out to the world and then look at the other people
Is it something that’s wrong with me or am I just different with my approach? 
I wish I had something of that sorts.
This is all I know
This is what I know how to do 
 

I was right after all. I ended up to go on and have a great time being in the celebrations.
It was because there was no one in that present moment who was capable to ruin my happiness and contentment I felt.
For a fact I know that I love to explore by myself and I can do it wherever and whenever.
There is a unique fun that lies in that. 
You are the controller of the day, if you screw up you have no one else to blame but yourself. There is no one to pin point and blame you for the mistakes caused. No sort of remarks to bring you down. 
You get to do what you want and manipulate the day to your likings. 
It is all you and some times it is good.