Your Sins are Revealed, Your Fate is Sealed

I KNEW I was a glutton.... but I thought I was prouder.. :P

Yes, Yes... I am a lustful lustful person :P

Your sin has been measured. You have committed many sins, but Lust is the mortal sin that has done you in. Just below, discover your full sinful breakdown and learn what it is about you that condemns you to hell.

Greed:	Medium
Gluttony:	Medium
Wrath:	Medium
Sloth:	Low
Envy:	Very Low
Lust:	High
Pride:	Medium

Take the Seven Deadly Sins Quiz

My Daemon! RAHR!!!

stole this from Dr. Paul ;)

thanks, Doc! :)

My 200th Blog!! and Orgasm-Enablers...

short blog.

my 200th blog on blogspot, waddya know :)

today at lunch, my boss made an interesting remark.

he mentioned it in relation to objective reality. something about how we control our destinies, etc. lazy to talk about that la. go google it up :) very abstract kinda stuff. it's a thinking that basically renders all major religions in the world irrelevant. :) also something to do with the Black Swan, whereby by the time we reach 15, and/or have had our first sexual experience, we normally would not experience any new experiences.

all our experiences would be repetitive of old ones, that fall into a certain pattern within the filters of our minds.

it's not something new. i've read this before when i was studying psychology textbooks in uni. i happen to find psychology a fascinating subject.

then he says something that possibly stunned my other very conservative, chinese-ed colleagues:

.... therefore, an intelligent man would choose to stay monogamous, since it saves him the hassle of meeting and getting to know new sexual partners. because he knows that new lovers are actually repetitive of old ones. every sexual experience is similar. what's different is how he perceives it in his own mind. the woman is merely an orgasm-enabler.

LoL..... in my mind, i was thinking: hell, yeah.... a hole is a hole is a hole. whether it be yellow, brown, black, white, etc., of a hand, a jacuzzi, or a glory-hole. front-end, rear-end, makes no difference.

but still, to hear this from a MAN. HAHAHAHAHA.... i burst out laughing for a second. i couldn't help it. but of course, i quickly stopped myself. lest my boss finds my laughter too unbecoming :)

*wicked grin*...... i wonder what my guy friends would say about that. orgasm-enabler, indeed....

These truths I hold to be self-evident....

Thursday, 21.06.2007. 1158hours.

Sick like a dog for days.
Slept in snatches.
Finally put all thoughts together.
And these truths I hold to be self-evident...

I take full responsibility for what I did,
and I shall bear that in solitude.
Tis now a question of honour.
Salvaging what is left is all I can do now.

Self-preservation requires looking after one's interest,
especially if the alternative is detrimental to one's well-being.

Sometimes there is greater courage in walking away from a futile situation,
then there is in staying in it.

Isn't it ironic how sometimes people let go of what they could have had,
for what they thought they had,
when they never had it in the first place?
And in the end they're left with absolutely nothing.
I suppose it's fitting.
They call it poetic justice.

There's a pattern in my relationships with destructive people.
How I can tolerate cowardice, self-absorption and spoilt behaviour.
How I dislike, but can understand selfishness.
But how sneakiness is something I cannot tolerate at all,
and is the ultimate crunch for me.

Complacency is the death knell of progress, society, everything.

I have waaayyy too much faith and hope in people in general,
much to the detriment of my sanity.

8 months is a long time to wait.
8 months is a long time to watch.
8 months is a long time to learn.
8 months is a long time to know.
Ultimately, 8 months is a long time.

It is foolishness to overestimate a person's faults,
and underestimate their virtues.
It is even more foolish to underestimate a person's capabilities,
while overestimating your own.

A foolish male will always assume that he is smarter than the smartest of women,
and attempt to outsmart her, much to his misfortune.

A woman, when she reaches a certain age,
will realise that if it was necessary for her to know anything painful,
she would find out soon enough.

And if it was a pain that could be spared her,
it was much wiser to do without.

That it was much wiser to be content not to share the pain of men,
for men do not share the pain of women,
nor do they even attempt to understand it.

Call me primitive, but in my experience,
any form of pain do not dull physical hunger,
but the consumption of food dulls pain.

Wasting affection on an emotionally-handicapped person,
is like burying yourself whole, as fertiliser,
and wringing yourself dry of tears, and sweat, and blood,
in the sands of the most barren of deserts.
It's a pointless exercise,
for nothing, absolutely nothing, will grow from it.

The purpose of dating isn't to find the "perfect" man;
it's to find the perfect combination made up of two human beings,
in relationship with one another.

Babyface put it so succinctly when he sang:
Sometimes the fool doesn't know he's a fool
Sometimes a dog he don't know he's a dog
and..
Sometimes a girl, is gon' be a girl
She don't wanna deal with all the drama in your world

sick like a dog

not enough sleep.

too much shit on my mind.

result: sick like a dog.

and damn... but now the Boss has given me a new project to be in charge of. what wonderful timing...

fuck the little shit. waste of my breath.

need to get well. got more important things to do.

You SELFISH PRICK.

This is gonna be UGLY. Turn your eyes away if you're of a delicate nature.

Wednesday, 19.06.2006. 2330 hours.

1. You begged me to stay by your side.
2. You say you're desperate.
3. You say you're trying.
4. You ask me to give you a chance.
5. You say I push you.
6. You say I expect too much out of you.
7. You say you need me around to be able to think clearly to get through your 'situation'.
8. You say you want me to be there to whip you back in line when you stray too far.
9. You say you want me to stop making you into the man you're not ready to be.
10. You say you're lost and grasping at straws.
11. You say you want me to be a true friend.

I say: You're a selfish prick. You. You. You. It's all about YOU.

You know me well.
You know my soft spots.
You know which buttons to push.

But now that I've had time to think things through, and now that I've found out some other things...

Well, ok, you want a chance?

So tell me this:

1. You begged me to stay by your side. Why the hell should I after everything you've done?
You know I'm disappointed in you. What have you done to change my mind?

2. How desperate are you when you hardly changed a thing about anything?

3. You say you're trying. So show me. What have you tried? What have you changed?
What are you planning to change? When are you planning to do it? Give me a timeline.
Are you really trying, or are you merely buying time?

4. You ask me to give you a chance. About what? Be specific.
And how long do you want me to do it? The rest of my life?

5. You say I push you. How the hell did I manage to do that when I was trying to ignore you?
Is that me pushing you, or your guilt doing it?

6. You say I expect too much out of you. Maybe so.
Well, you expect too LITTLE out of you.
That's always been your problem. That's why you never seem to want to change.
That's why you're here now.
That's YOU pushing ME to say all these.

7. You say you need me around to be able to think clearly to get through your 'situation'.
8. You say you want me to be here to whip you back in line when you stray too far.
9. You say you want me to stop making you into the man you're not ready to be.
10. You say you're lost and grasping at straws.
11. You say you want me to be a true friend.
7.-11.: Read THIS:
FUCK YOU.
How much more selfish can you get?
You're not ready to be a man. Well, I'm not ready to be your true friend.
Why should I be, when you aren't?
You're lost and grasping at straws. Well, that's your problem. You chose that.
Not like I never advised you. But when I did, you didn't listen.
Now that I'm fed up, you want me back. For what?

Try showing me that you've changed FIRST.
Then maybe I'd show you how to think clearly.

About time you started thinking for yourself,
instead of getting your mother,
and your SURROGATE mothers to do it.

If I really meant so much to you, then you wouldn't have said the things that you did.
You wouldn't have done the things that you did.

Friends. If you treated me as one, you wouldn't have crossed the line. Should've thought about that before, innit?

If I really meant so much to you, you would've done what you should have a long LONG time ago.

So... Tell me: What am I to you?
Just someone to milk your cum?
'Cos by all that's pure and holy,
just as the earth is ellipsical on its axis,
when I put all that down on paper,
It sure as hell looks like it!

When I separate logic from emotion, and analyse it as it is,
You seriously look REALLY UGLY. YECH!

Now you know why I do analysis. Because I need THIS.
The COLD CLARITY of LOGIC.
PERSPECTIVE.

You messed with the wrong girl, boy.

When I was a wee girl, I loved G.I. Joe and Transformers and X-Men.
I wasn't into Barbie and Carebears and My Little Pony and Friends.

Now that I'm a grown woman,
I don't do soft toys.
I don't do icky pandas (unless they're live animals).
My fave movies include:
The Hannibal series, the Godfather series, the Ocean's series, the Bourne series.
The likes of Scarface; Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels; Snatch; The Italian Job; Traffic.

Oh, there's plenty more. Comedies, romances, historical dramas, yeah.
But you don't mess with a chick who watches and enjoys movies like those.
I ain't your panda bitch.

So YOU tell ME, if you really look damn hot on paper now.

Tell me you DON'T look like a piece of shit.
Tell me I SHOULD spend another second of my life on you.
Tell me I SHOULD give you a chance to change and make things right for everyone.
Tell me. Tell me. Tell me.

Tell me I SHOULDN'T push you.
Tell me I SHOULDN'T expect MORE from you.
Yeah, TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. T.E.L.L. M.E.
And TELL ME AGAIN.

You haven't even seen me relentless.
You haven't seen me get REALLY ANGRY.
You haven't seen me put 11 years of Alma Mater emotional trauma training on you.
You ain't seen nothin', yet.

And YOU DARE to tell me I PUSH YOU.
And you DARE to tell me I EXPECT TOO MUCH OUT OF YOU.
TELL ME AGAIN.

C'mon. I WANNA SEE YOUR MOUTH MOVE WHEN YOU SAY IT.
I WANNA HEAR THAT FAMOUS VOICE OF YOURS WHEN YOU SAY IT. Go on.
TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME.

Work me up into ICE COLD FURY.
TELL ME.

I wanna feel my blood turn to ice when I turn my eyes on you.
I wanna feel my heart go stone-cold when I hear your voice.
TELL ME.

Change my lifeblood into liquid nitrogen.
ZERO DEGREES KELVIN.

Have you seen liquid nitrogen?
'Cos I have.
I stored my own blood in them. Lasts for a week. The cells stop moving.
It's that cold.
So TELL ME.

TELL ME.

....seriously.

You yellow-bellied lily-livered sick twisted spineless gonad-less invertebrate parasitic vibriocholeric jackass dimwit fucktard jerk coward sonovabitch of a wanker.
You WASTAGE of Lifeblood.
You WASTAGE of Oxygen.
You WASTAGE of Space.
Go surgically remove your three lower ribs and suck your own cock.
That way you'll never need to get women that look like men to do it.

Or just do the world a favour and hang yourself.
From your non-existent testicles.

Gah! You seriously waste my time. Seriously!

Yeah, I'm a scary, intimidating psychopathic bitch.
Call me Snow White's evil stepmother.
Call me Cruella deVille.
Call me Janice Dickinson.
I don't care.
TELL ME: How not to be with the likes of you around?

Communication

I find I can't quite talk to you anymore.

Not the way we used to talk anyway.

Yeah, I plaster a smile on my face, and try to act all merry and gay. But that's a shell.

I wonder how you do it. Maybe you're used to it, but I'm not.

Maybe that's a good thing. Maybe that's gone. And I shouldn't be wishing for something that's past.

Maybe this is for the best.

'Cos lately I've been finding things out about you that I wish I did not. That I wish you had the courage to tell me. But you hide, like you've been doing for such a long time. And still you do.

A friend asked me today:

Do you need him? The answer is NO. I need no man. I want one. But I don't need one. And I sure as hell don't need you, for anything. Despite what you say.

Do you want to communicate with him? I can't quite answer. Which isn't good. I MISS communicating with you, I LIKED communicating with you, but my world wouldn't come crumbling down if I don't talk to you.

So I guess the answer is NO.

I suppose it can only get easier after this. Especially since we hardly talk anymore.

Go back to her. You can't even say her name in front of me.

Each time she calls, and I'm there, you'll leave, and wear a guilty expression when you get back after your 30 second conversation. Don't ask me how I know who it is.

I think you take me for a bigger fool than I am.

Never insult my intelligence. Never underestimate my capabilities. I know people you know nothing about. And I've got friends you'll never guess I have.

She may believe you, though I doubt she does. But if she wants you, she can have you.

I do not want someone who doesn't want me.

And I do not want someone who's selfish enough to cling to both because he wants the best of both worlds.

You want her just 'cos she's there, and she's rich enough to buy you things. You want me because I'm the only one who'd teach you to be a man.

I'm sorry. After all that's transpired, I don't think I can. I don't have faith in you. It's burst apart into a million little shrapnels. And each shrapnel is embedded deep in me. Each time I move, it stings like a mother-fucking wound opening up all over again.

Don't get me wrong. This is merely a self-preservation defensive mechanism.

But it's personal. 'Cos every damn thing is personal. We may call our day-to-day living business, but it's always, always personal. 'Cos it affects us. Always.

Anywhere but here...

Saturday, 16.06.2007. 2332 hours.

I don't know what to say.
I don't know what to do.

There's no more biting sarcasm,
no acrid cynicism,
no sharp witticism,
no painful bitterness.

We've reached our pinnacle, I suppose.

It's now or never.

We either make it or break it.

He can't let go. I'm not sure I know why. Perhaps, I'm not quite sure I want to know right now.

All I know is that what's been said and done cuts deep... very deep.

And it's very painful, and very difficult for me to stay.

Perhaps, with time, with effort, with patience, the wounds will heal.

I'm not sure how, I'm not sure when, but I can only pray that it be soon.

But for now...
We'll take each day as it comes.

Because right now...
I'm all out of words...
There's nothing left to say.

Except, perhaps...

I wanna be anywhere...
anywhere at all...
anywhere but here...

Journeys and Distances

Sometimes the greatest journey is the distance between two people.
~The Painted Veil~

Spent last weekend at work, before Bobots called to meet up. And it was a pleasure to talk to the girl who looks and acts like a dumb blonde bimbo but sees more than she allows you to know. It's been too long since we actually sat down and had a proper conversation about life, love, the lessons we've learned and everything in between.

It's a conclusion we've both reached individually many times in the past:

That all through life's many catastrophes there would always be a self-preservation control mechanism called 'choice'. You choose how others affect you. You choose when to hurt. How to hurt. How much to hurt. How much YOU hurt. And finally how, and when to heal.

We all have choices. It differs from person to person, and from time to time. But it's there.

All these intertwine with the many depths of emotions and feelings we experience in this lifetime.

There's only so much we can take at one particular moment. Sometimes, we manipulate ourselves to deal with what we can take at that one time.

But really, like Bobots asked that evening:

How long can you wait?
How much will you give up?

We have only this one life to live. I'm quite sure James Brown had said something to this effect. I don't want to waste my life here.

I know too much. And I'm tired. I'm jaded.

I want to be Ms BimboExtraordinaireClingyBarnacle. It takes waaayyy too much effort to be Ms FullofPersonality. Where did the latter get me? It was never appreciated much. It still isn't.

Maybe I shouldn't even hope for much. I should be going for a hefty wallet rather than a man of Quality. After all, I've been told men go for nice looks and/or a fast fuck. I should therefore take a page from their book and go for nice looks and a hefty wallet. With an AMEX BLACK.

Fair's fair in a world of deceit, superficiality and melodrama, no?

IMHO, the DUMBEREST statement ever.

Wednesday. 13.06.2007. 2331 hours.

Ahh, something I've been meaning to blog about for quite awhile.

Now that my housemate finally decided to get the hell out of the bathroom, and I'm nicely clean and moisturised, let's get down to it.

I've heard many a stupid statements in my 20-odd years on earth.

A huge bulk of it comes from my brother.

Don't get me wrong, I love the dumbass. He's my brother after all. He's good at what he does, but 2 feet away from his passion, and he's almost absolutely hopeless.

His ideas are totally rad.... like, seriously mind-boggling.

But this statement from someone I happen to know, concerning infidelity and temptation, totally takes the cake.

I'm Opinionated, Direct, Sarcastic, Articulate, Random. I have the uncanny ability to think of many random things at one time, and keep them all aligned in my mind. I can skip from random topic to random topic, and then get back to the first topic of conversation without forgetting or missing a beat.

But when I heard this coming out of the mouth of someone I know, my mind went totally blank for those brief nanoseconds. Devoid of any thought whatsoever. It was as though I was struck by lightning. Yes, Awe-struck by the lightning of Sheer, Blatant IDIOCY.

I have never in my entire life (and I hope never again for the REST of my life. My life was much-shortened by those few precious moments) heard anything so Outrageously, Ridiculously Imbecilic. Even a Retard would know better, you know what I'm saying?

Now I know since I blog inconsistently, and I go on hiatus without warning, probably not many people read my blog. Not that there were many readers/blogders in the first place.

So for the 3.25 people still reading my blog, and whoever comes across this, please, do me a favour. Let me read of ur opinion on this matter. Am I being too critical, or is it really, really, REALLY *DUH*?

Even for those who do not normally comment here, leave a comment on this. Thank you.

Now here's the statement:

'Maybe if we were to get rid of ALL temptation... live together... go to work at the same time... come home at exactly the same time... maybe then we won't cheat on each other...'

This coming from one half of a couple who HAS BOTH cheated on each other.

Ok. Let me state my arguments on why I think that's sooooo not gonna work. Totally unfeasible.
1. If there's no respect, and no trust, and no effort from both parties, they would still cheat on each other, no matter what.

2. Unless you kill the other 6.5 billion minus 2 (the couple) in the world, temptation would still and will always be around. Even with the rest of the people in the world dead, she might still rather do a horse, and he might still rather do a bitch (as in female dog).

3. Or, unless both migrate to HERMIT island, and live alone by themselves, without work, without a social life outside of themselves, without Temptation, MAYBE it MIGHT just work. Then again, there's always the horse.... and the bitch....

4. Most affairs happen at work. This is because you see your co-workers so much more in a day than you see your partner. Now, there's always lunch break for that lunch-hour quickie, there's always periods of lull in between work to sneak off to the deserted stairway or lavatory for yet another quickie, and there's always overtime. Whether justified or not. There's no such thing as going to work at exactly the same time, and coming home at exactly the same time. Even if both partners are working at exactly the same place. That's more than wishful-thinking. That's sheer stupidity. So unless you really love and respect your partner, and do not wish to lose the person's trust, what incentive is there to prevent you from taking that temptation?

5. If it has to come to THIS statement, doesn't that mean that the person who says it is grasping at straws? Doesn't that mean that the person itself no longer has confidence in the relationship at all? So what does that say about the chance of the relationship's survival? Hence my sarcasm concerning the horse and the bitch....

That statement horrified me. It showed a lack of sensitivity. A lack of humility. A lack of understanding. A lack of remorse. A lack of responsible behaviour. It showed a superiority that was astounding. A judgmental and critical person. This person was blaming the rest of the world for a lack of self-control. 'I can't control myself, so I must rid myself of all temptation.' It's like the American tripping over his own feet on a city side-walk and suing the city for 'faulty side-walk'. The obnoxiousness and self-absorption in just that one statement: Horrifying!

Seriously, I was dumbstruck. The retard was obviously not thinking at all. Made me wonder.... the dumbass flushed gray matter down which toilet bowl again?

I shouldn't insult retards. They were born handicapped. They never wished for it. They should have my pity and compassion.

But if you have been given fair intelligence and common sense, and yet refuses to use it, you're just asking for my insult. You're wasting everyone's time and effort. Not just yours. Such a person would do better to just roll over and die. Because, as such, with such a manner of thinking, how could such a person be of any use to society whatsoever?

Really, you know? Common sense is SUCH an uncommon trait lately.

TITS... TITS TITS GODDAMN TITS...!!!

Wednesday, 13.06.2007. 2221 hours.

Last week, I was given one of the most disheartening news of my life.... :'(

....apparently, i can never get a cleavage!!! *SOB!*

i went for a bra fitting last week. having been on the Pill for about 8 months now, i feel a difference in my breasts.

i also thought i'd like to get me a nice new bra for my friends' weddings.

well, i got the tits alright. they're just everywhere but there. WTF?! big enough cup to make most chink.. oops, sorry, i mean, ricebowl, charlie, cina, yellow, etc. girls faint from delirious euphoria.... but i can never get the damn cleavage.

*stomps feet in frustration*
*throws BIG tantrum*
*goes to one corner and sulks*
*starts with the famous cussing...PKMKNNLLBCCBPBK...*

i mean.... FUCK!!! what's the point of having the breast-flesh when it's not getting me the attention, yes? chuh....

my chest is, seemingly broad. and high. i have, seemingly, a wide chest cavity. well, yes, i always knew that.

one fine day, my idiotic Psychobitch friend smacked me on where she thought my tummy was. instead, she howled in pain. she hit bone. my ribs. MUAHAHAHA... that was when i found out my chest was wider than most.

:( not like i'm an athlete and need that extra oxygen intake/longer breath-holding. unless i'm into dangerous sport like sexual asphyxiation, or something. which i'm not. crazy ah! can die lah! what's her name, Normala Samsuddin, or something like that, probably died from it. well, she certainly made scintillating news for hamsap JAWI guys who stopped talking in court for once.

well, i'm not about to hold my breath to increase the intensity of sexual orgasms. i just want a damn cleavage.

the wide chest cavity displaces the breasts. thank you very much....

so, what's that mean? i need to get E sized tits to get a cleavage? damn.... now THAT would be too heavy.

screw it lah! whoever fucks me has just gotta be happy with what i have. he asks me to get a breast enlargement, i'd counter by saying he get a penis enlargement. fair's fair, mate. bigger titties bring him more pleasure? ok... bigger dick brings ME more pleasure, too! :P

at least i still got me arse to fall back on :P

else... there's always duct tape!!!! :P

i think i'm totally scandalising my readers... and i know at least 2 of my former students read my blog. i've probably horrified them. 'My former BM teacher blogs about her TITS!!' :P

speaking of them, yesterday one of them added me on MSN. then she said: 'HI! so... mmm... what should i call u ah? still teacher? sounds odd...' to which i replied: 'just call me (insert nick here). everyone seems to call me that anyway' she says: 'ok... but still kinda odd...'

:P well, i guess, ya. i used to teach her. she can't be calling me by my nickname, yes? so what should she call me leh?? i also dunno worr...

Burn Out

I wonder if I'm burning out.

It's frightening when friends start coming to you for Aunt Agony advice and you're giving them like your mom would give it to you.

And you catch yourself saying all these, and you wonder: Shit.... I'm tired. I'm jaded. I'm old. I shouldn't be thinking like this. Not at this age.

When friends start calling you at 0100 hours to ask for advice about their jackass boyfriends, and you can give an almost immediate response... doesn't that mean you're getting waaayyy too old for your age?

When you begin to think that men should be careful, cos they just might get extinct, being replaced by aluminium stepladders, and electronic lawn-mowers (which they created cos they were too lazy to help out their womenfolk), dildos in a variety of sizes, shapes, colours and functions (which they created cos they would not allow their women to do any other dick but their own, or a silicone one. It's the old double standard, folks. Men sleep around, he's DA MAN. Women sleep around, she's a whore.), and sperm banks and fertility methods like IVF and ICSI (cos a man wants HIS baby. HIS. Not anyone else's.), you wonder if you're frighteningly irreverent when it comes to the common concept of family and relationships.

When you begin to think that you want them even less than you need them, and you already need nothing out of them, even your very jaded friend goes: Ouch! at that statement.

When you start to feel that guys are more trouble than they're worth, you really wonder if you're turning too cynical.

Snowflakes

Saturday. 09.06.2007. 1000 hours.

When I finally confessed to a friend about everything that's happened, she was first, speechless, then, disgusted, finally, disappointed.

I don't blame her. I felt waaaayyyy worse. There was a period when I didn't want to look at myself in the mirror.

Then she said: 'Forget.'
But I said: 'It won't be so easy. We share close mutual friends.'

It was true. From 2001-2007, he was probably one of the worst. But unlike the rest, he was the only one with whom I couldn't completely cut off ties.

The other Top Three Jackasses on my list:

1. The Doctor was easy to ignore. Don't pick up calls, don't reply text, don't answer e-mails. Ignore. Ignore. Ignore. He was as good as dead to me.

2. Mr. Churchie-Wurchie wasn't so easy. But still, easier. One mutual friend moved to Aussie, and he didn't really keep in touch with that one, anyway. The other pissed me off so much, that I refused to talk to this one, and cut off ties, too. How very convenient. It was easier after that. It was like the Fates were on my side.

3. But this one isn't as easy. Fate doesn't seem to be on my side. We have close mutual friends that meet regularly. We have unfinished business together that I can't just leave behind. It was as though the Fates conspired to make me suffer and keep him in my sights. Or me in his. Whatever.

This I explained to her.

She said: 'The next time u wanna do something stupid, let me know, so I can whack u on the head with an iron bar.'

Then: 'You've successfully survived years in (insert name of Alma Mater here), don't tell me you can't endure a few hours with mutual friends?'

She's right. Growing up in Alma Mater a four-eyed pizza face, with all teachers knowing my parents, and not being rich, or pretty, in a school full of, and obsessed with, spoilt, rich, beautiful brats wasn't easy. (I'm generalising, remember. Not all are like that).

She knows what I went through. She could tell me WHY I was constantly ridiculed and made fun of.

There's a difference, though. I didn't care then. I phased out most of the time. Like The Doctor, and Mr. Churchie-Wurchie, I COULD not care.

This one got under my skin. Many nights I cry myself to sleep wondering why I cared so much, why he did what he did, and why I allowed myself to be so emotionally vulnerable. And the tears flow again, as I wonder how he could do it, after knowing what he did about all I've gone through. How he could change so much. How he could manipulate and choose a time when I'm most emotionally vulnerable to make me pay for the sins of his other women.

Why did he have to make everything so complicated?

Yes, I could endure the times when I have to face him. I could survive that as I've survived everything else before this.

Two years ago, at 3am on a cold, quiet morning in PH, Diana and I were swapping stories. She of her then boyfriend of 5 years, and me of everything else. No, I had yet to meet Mr. Sel-Imposed-Contrariness then. Diana was shocked. 'For a girl your age, I'm surprised you have gone through all that in such a short span of time. Some girls never go through any of that at all in their whole life.'

'No. And they're the lucky ones. I didn't actively seek them out. I don't consciously put myself here.'

Looking back, maybe I subconsciously do this to myself. Maybe, like my friend says, I seek affection. I can do everything myself. There's nothing I can't do. I've been trained from childhood to be so independent, it can be frightening. And yet, I'd like it if someone could do it once in awhile for me for a change.

Maybe that's my problem. Maybe I should want them even less than I need them. And I already need nothing from them.

My friend says, as I was stuffing stuffed mushrooms into my already stuffed mouth (O_O): 'At the end of this... 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8th mushroom, he no longer exists. Comprende?'

Looking at my friend of many years, good and bad, through our own fall-outs, I suddenly felt thankful. There are friends, and then there are Friends.

You know you've been friends long enough and well enough when you can just sit quietly together and not feel the need to say anything.

You know you've been friends well enough when words are unnecessary to express how you feel.

You know you've been friends well enough when you know what the other is thinking without the other person saying anything.

You know you've been friends well enough when one look is enough to convey what's on your mind. And you know the other person knows what it means.

You know you've been friends well enough when you can finish each other's sentences.

You know you've been friends long enough and well enough, most of all, when you know the person will have your back, and that the person is someone you can run to when you've nowhere to go, and that's the person you can trust with your blackmail-worthy secrets.

'Yes', I said quietly.

But what she doesn't know was that writing was how I endured Alma Mater.

I wrote on sheet after sheet of long F4 paper. Not stopping until I was done.

When I discovered my parents read them, I either set them on fire, or tore them into little snowflakes.

I would have liked to read them now, though. I've often wondered what my 20 something self would think of me at 10, 12, 14, 16, 18 years old. What murderous intentions did I have then? O_O

So this is how I would endure. This here is my catharsis. I would not speak of him in real life again, unless and until things changes between us (which I put no hope or faith in, sad to say, I really never wished things would end this way).

I would put my thoughts on cyberspace. Only here would I allow myself to truly speak my mind. These are my snowflakes.

When the sun rises in the morning, they would melt, dry up and disappear in the glow of the morning sun.

And they would be no more but distant memories.

Listening to:
Guns N Roses' November Rain (Acoustic)
Butterfly Boucher's I Can't Make Me
Travis' Writing To Reach You

the Y chromosome Pt. 2, twisted relationships, marriages, and that kinda shit.

Monday, 11.06.2007. 1038 hours.

today, i was told that yet another friend is getting married. and i'm being invited. well, yay, can u feel my enthusiasm here?

well, lookie here. i'm not being a wet blanket. if the couple is realistically happy, yes, i'll be the first to send up my congratulations. i'll be genuinely happy. but THIS one... well, i'm not too thrilled. it'd be a waste of my angpao money.

i've seen my fair share, and been in my fair share, of twisted relationships.

and i can honestly say, i hate them.

let me give some real life experiences here. since it's the best way to describe anything, really. analogies. stories.

Scenario A

i know a guy. he's about 29/30. his best friend happens to be a pretty good friend of mine. let's call him Mr. A. after he broke up with, as he calls her, 'the girl he almost married', he ended up with Ms. Z.

she doesn't click too well with all his friends, doesn't really like his parents, but is very VERY nice in front of them. (well, duhhh... i also know how to act, right?) he whines to his friends about her, and the problems they have, so his friends say: break up with her laaa... does he listen? no. he thinks he can't find anyone better. so they continue their sad, twisted relationship.

ultimately, relationships either move forward or get waylaid, so the next logical move was to get married. his friends were against it, but he insisted: my parents like her. she'll change. we might be happy together. (uh-oh! 'might' is never good when paired with 'be happy together') so he married her. his friends wash their hands off of him. kinda. i mean, what can you do when someone doesn't wanna listen, yes? you can lead the horse to water, but you can't force the horse to drink.

within months they were fighting, and in the end, he moved out of the apartment they shared. now they're separated, pending a divorce. which isn't gonna be easy. takes years, and a lot of lawyers' fees.

what to say?

Scenario B

now here's an even better one.

let's call the guy Mr. B, and the girlfriend Ms. Y. now Ms. Y was fucking around with her ex boyfriend while her ex was seeing someone else. then, she got together with Mr. B. Mr. B knows she was doing the horizontal tango with her ex while he was seeing someone else, by the way. she did it rather publicly.

then within the first few months of their becoming a couple, Mr. B caught Ms. Y getting all pretzel-ly with her ex again. When confronted, she says they were 'just talking.' (of course! one organ was talking to another.)

but with all the begging and tears and sorries from both Ms. Y and her ex, he thought: ok, why not? except that he doesn't call, they do it LDR, and when they meet, they plan ahead. and no, they didn't sleep together for a couple of years.

he's rude to her, she attempts to control him. he goes out with other girls behind her back, but thinks she doesn't dare do the same. hmmm.... rewind her very open fucking of her ex-bf while he was seeing someone else. rewind the LDR and his not being too concerned when she calls or how often she does it. (interesting. somehow i'm sceptical.)

then Mr. B sleeps with someone else, in i deduce, a final attempt to break out of the relationship, and tells Ms. Y about it. Ms. Y says she has suspected for awhile, starts crying and then says, most bogglingly: 'i still love you, but not today...' strange.

what i also find even MORE odd is the fact that despite doing a course that doesn't require being in a hub of any particular profession, meaning she could work any damn where she wants, she chooses to stay where her ex-boyfriends are, and not where her boyfriend is.

i mean, seriously, how serious can a relationship that is based entirely on LDR can be? if she really wants/loves her boyfriend, is truly sorry she slept with her ex within a few months of a brand new one, and is really serious about making up for it, and keeping it alive, won't she want to be where he is? don't expect him to go to where u are. go to where he is, no? so why choose to stay far far away from him, when she could most certainly work where he is? yet another hmmm.....

now, when Ms. Y pushes Mr. B concerning the topic of marriage, he gets all pimply... then when asked: 'so do you love her?' there's a loooonnnnnggggg awkward pause, and then: 'maybe with time and patience, we'd be happy.' pressed again: 'do you love her?' again a loooong pause: 'i think so...' a third time, was given the best answer: 'she's..... there....' (riiiiight-oooo!!)

that's just the perfect recipe for a most successful marriage. and Mr. B doesn't want children with Ms. Y either.

again: what to say?

Scenario C

there's a girl. let's call her Ms. C. 26, successful engineer paid plenty of money, quite a beautiful woman. once upon a time, she could have had her pick of men in her hometown. except that, due to her arrogance, she made quite a name for herself.

so a few years back, she met an arrogant, pompous ass of a singaporean new boyfriend, whom she couldn't wait to show her girlfriends. apparently he earns an income within the 'upper tax bracket' (and i quote him verbatim from CNY 2006). her friends didn't think much of him at first sight. pompous, doesn't bother to be friendly at all, condescending. yes, very good way of making an impression.

he gets all riled when an old friend (guy) from school days puts a friendly hand on her shoulder to say 'hi'. he tells her she should've brushed the guy's hands off... !!! (wtf! mcp alert!)

when he gets jealous/angry/etc. she has to drive over to beg him to forgive her and stop sulking. ok....

now her mom is not too well, and wants to see her daughter married off. she's having problems with her in-laws, and her fiance isn't doing a single thing to help. her mother in-law demands a child within the first year of marriage. or else....

so she complains to her girlfriend. and her girlfriend calls daily to ask her if she's sure she wants to marry this particular mean (i mean, man. typo :P)

when asked if she loves him, she goes: mmm.... (long awkward pause) he's good to me.... riiiiiight......

honey, i'm good to her toooooooooo...... *bangs head against wall* MARRRRYYYYYYY MMMEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

**
see, i really don't get it. none of the people involved in all 3 scenarios are particularly ugly. well, they may be plain and not very good-looking, except for Ms. C, but still! why stay in a twisted relationship when you can find someone else who makes you happier? so both of you can actually be happy? the longer it goes on, the more painful it becomes. it's:

1. tiresome
2. troublesome
3. time-wasting
4. expensive
5. painful

for more than just the parties concerned. their friends have to hear their whining (1,2,3,4,5), their friends have to spend the effort trying to advise (1,2,3,4,5). their friends have to stand at the sides and watch, despite their best efforts to stop a massive tragedy from happening, them make the START of the BIGGEST MISTAKE of their lives (1,2,5,5,5,5,5). u think that's not painful to watch?

i have another friend, who was much luckier. she had parents in-law who were also frightful, but at least she had a husband who loved her. truly. when she wanted to break it off and go for a painful divorce, now, HER friends advised her otherwise: Are u sure? He's a good man. he stood by her. he stood up to his parents FOR her. he supported her. NOW THAT is a MAN. now THAT is a man worth standing by. he's a man worth WAITING for.

see, if i'm going to spend the rest of my life with u, go through sickness and health with u, for richer, for poorer, then at least let it be worth my effort. at least let it be worth my heartbreak. at least let it be worth my pain. worth my time. worth the rest of my life.

that man LOVED her. standing up to his parents FOR her was the ultimate test of his maturity and his devotion. now if SHE does something stupid, HER friends would give her a mouthful.

those 3 scenarios up there, which one of them can u feel the love? they all leave me graveyard-cold. explain to me again, which of the above is actually a relationship? i call it twisted and sad. and so very, very cold.

when Mr. A told his friends he was separating, none of them were surprised. when i was told about it, all i could think of to say was: oh... finally la. i gave them 1 1/2 years. tops.

u see, going out together and living together (not as housemates, but as a couple) are totally different. i can sit and talk to my housemates and not really care what happens to them. or i can go out with some friends and be really close, and yet know that there is absolutely no way we can actually live together.

living together as two separate entities sharing lives takes compatibility as much as complementariness.

it isn't as simple as 1+1=2.

i feel sorry for the parents. watching your children go through an ugly divorce cannot be easy. going through a divorce takes years so the courts can determine that it truly is irreconcilable differences. those years of lawyers' fees have got to be some hefty amount. arguing about property cannot be easy.

so explain to me again, why would people put themselves in such a horrendous situation?

Mr. B and Ms. Y might get married forever, though.

the indifference might be enough.

they can just be housemates married to each other. go to work, come home, fuck, grunt, turn over, sleep, wake up, go to work again.

after all, all Mr. B is aiming for is a dysfunctional marriage where both partners just do what they're supposed to, to get on with their lives.

he isn't looking for a life partner and a wife. he's aiming for a surrogate mother.

until and unless, of course, Ms. Y decides, in an attempt to get her then-husband's attention, to drop the Pill, and go against his wishes to not have children with her, and get pregnant.

then he'd stay by her side, but blame her for tying him down, and tell her she's gotten fat and ugly due to pregnancy. a likely scenario, considering that he can be cruel and a coward like that.

because isn't he already cruel and a coward now? the only reason he's with her, is because she's there. and she's with him because he's there, too.

Ms. C would suffer. but she might never go through a divorce. she likes appearances way too much. but she'd suffer, and she'd whine, and her friends would suffer, listening to her.

all of these just makes me want to vomit blood out of disgust. :(

The Precipice Pt. 3

Friday. 08.06.2007. 2033 hours.

It's been a long time. It feels like forever since I've been plunged headlong, and I've walked the Valley of Darkness.

The screams. The cries. The moans. The gritting of teeth. The stench of death. The pain all around. The seemingly endless road to travel. No stops. No rest. Only exhaustion. Only pain. Travelling that endless road filled with dark gravel, crawling on my knees. With all that torture, all that gore, all that blood, all that tears around me.

I've only come to realise that it's all mine. That endless mire of frustration and exhaustion is mine.
The tears are mine.
The blood is mine.
The screams,
the groans,
the moans,
the cries,
the gritting of teeth.
They all belong to me.
The stench of death is the stench of my death.
The pain is mine.
The long road is mine.
It's all mine.

He may have taken me to the precipice, he may have pushed me off it. But I didn't climb. It took me so long to realise that all the horrors of that valley belonged to me. Yet I stupidly trudged on, on my knees, hoping to find light at the end of that darkness.

Who was I to call him stupid? I was even more so. How much better am I, when I did the exact same thing he is doing, just because he took me along?

I could've climbed. But I chose to stay. And walk on my knees. Maybe I thought he needed someone to walk with him. Maybe I thought he'd be sad and lonely. Maybe I thought he'd walk with me. But he'd all but disappeared. He had always been walking with someone else, and that someone else is the one he chooses to walk with, while I had to walk the route alone.

Yes, I am disappointed in him. But that is nothing compared to the disappointment I feel in myself.

He is a fool, yes. But I am a bigger one.

And to hear both being shouted over the tops of the mountains by trusted friends was enough to set things in motion for me.

I shall not live in the darkness of my blindness any longer. Not when there's surgery available.

If he still chooses to traverse that darkness, so be it. I can't change a stupidly arrogant and stubborn boy-man, who refuses to listen. I won't even try.

If he wants to waste his time, he can. But I refuse to let him waste mine anymore.

The route has been cut through the valley. There's now a path of escape. The price to pay, like everything in life, is to cut off the shackles binding my hands and feet. That I must do myself. And the climbing, I have to do on my own.

He could come with me. I have shown him what the valley was, and the path to freedom.

But I can't cut his shackles, and I can't do his climbing for him. That he must do on his own.

All children learnt to crawl and walk on their own. All children stumble and fall. All children were taught and encouraged to walk properly, but they have to do the walking and stumbling and getting up again on their own.

Someone commented we looked almost alike. That we looked good together. Like a pair. Like we have an amazingly strong bond, a chemistry. After seeing us only once. For a few hours. When we barely spoke to each other. Maybe. Maybe we have a bond, a chemistry. Complicity. Maybe we look good together. Like each other.

Well, so what? Yes, chemistry and bond is important, but there's only so much that can do.

For instance, take ballroom dancers. A perfectly matched ballroom-dancing couple can make the art look so effortless, so easy, so heartbreakingly beautiful. It's like they move as one, although they're separate entities. Like they were born to it.

But no matter how perfectly matched they are, and how wonderful they look together, it counts for nothing if one partner refuses to dance.

Bond, or no bond, chemistry or no chemistry, glorious perfection or not, it amounts to nothing. Nada. Zilch.

I'd do better to dance with someone else.

Funny how the only thing he could say in response, after the stunned silence all around when another party clarified the situation, was: 'No, I don't have that many pimples.'

For an articulate, wordy, sarcastic girl, after the first initial bombshell, this hurtful rudeness left me speechless. But perhaps my silence was more than enough to make a statement. Even his friend said: 'That wasn't a nice thing to say.'

No. It wasn't. He isn't nice. He may like to think he is, but he isn't.

If I were to count his sins, big and small, against me, it would take an entire lifetime of utter devotion to make it up to me, and then some.

Barring his parents, he probably owes me more than he owes anyone else in his life. To be used as a tool and then discarded isn't a nice feeling at all.

He isn't nice. Not at all. And I was stupid.

He can stay and rot with the perpetrator of all his nastiness and negativity, since that's what he wishes. The longer he stays, the worse he'll become, but that could no longer be my concern.

He probably doesn't realise that nastiness eats at the soul. He's becoming soul-less. I could not believe he said what he did, so swiftly, so humiliatingly, so publicly. The longer he stays there, the worse he's become. It's like the men of Pirates' Davy Jones' Flying Dutchman.

Part of the ship, one with the ship. Ugly, misshapen, horrendous to look at. He's turning into that. Part of the nastiness. One with the nastiness.

He's nasty. He wasn't in the past, when I knew him first, but he is now. And which matters more, really? The past, or the present? We can't change our past. But it's our present that shapes the future. So many people forget that.

If he so chooses, I'd take his hand, and we'd make that climb together. But I won't wait for him. With or without him, I'm making that climb out of this hellhole. The love and support of my friends awaits me. Happiness and brightness awaits me. Laughter and peace awaits me. After all that personal suffering that I bore so long on my own, I deserve to bask in the light of the honest and the true. And the genuine and the caring.

Unlike Bond, I get only one shot at life. Now that I have to work late nights in KL City Centre itself, I might get viciously raped and brutally murdered walking home tomorrow. I'd never know. He's wasted enough of my time. He's plunged me, unwary, without warning, into abyssmal darkness. His abyss. His darkness. The blackness of his increasingly soul-less spirit. And he made it mine.

Now that I've found a way out, he can come with me, and I'd take his hand, if he so chooses. Only if he wants to. But I won't wait. With, or without him, I'm making that climb.

Training, Dreams, Accountability

Sunday, 22.04.2007. 2358 hours.

Had training workshop yesterday. Something interesting came up in training. Big boss was saying that psychologically our value and belief systems could help us progress, or serve as limitations to hinder our growth.

I should list 10 of my values (and find out why I place value on these) and see if they limit or help me in my progress. I should also note if there is a shift in my value system.

I've been wondering about this of late myself. Why did I do what I did? Is there anything in my beliefs that limit me? Are my principles holding me back? Should I discard/ Have I discarded my values?

There's someone I know, whose approach to life saddens me. But is he right? Is he happy with where he is, and where he's going? Or is it just that he's never really given much thought to it?

I don't know, really. Let's see if BB's approach would help me find some answers. About myself:

Values:

1. Trust
2. Honesty
3. Reliability
4. Loyalty
5. Integrity
6. Responsibility
7. Accountability
8. Filial piety
9. Wisdom
10. Maturity
11. Understanding
12. Gentleness
13. Patience
14. Passion
15. Humility

Well, I'm not sure it helps. But, what the hell.

These are values I find important, which I seek to practise, and instil in myself, and I look for in others. These are values that, when I break them, I find myself breaking down as well.

Are these impeding my growth as a person? Limitting me in my search for success and happiness? Stopping me from holding on to things and people? Do these serve me? Or a greater purpose?

I slept in snatches last night. For the first time in a long time, I dreamt. Vivid, clear images. People I know. Fights. Children. A story. I couldn't remember it, except for the last thing before I woke to full consciousness. A drawing taped to a fridge:

Learn to live together.

I know not what it means. Seems I know very little of what things mean lately. I suppose it'd come to me eventually.

Little Boss remarked that I'm not my usual bubbly self. And yesterday, S mentioned the same to me. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. We're close enough, he's a man who notices things.
S: You ok, dear? You don't seem yourself. Everything alright?
N: Huh? What do you mean? I'm fine.
S: You sure? You just don't seem to be your usual bubbly self.
N: I need food. Hungry.
S: Ok...

S gave me a once-over and left it at that. That's one thing I like about him. He doesn't push me to give answers I don't want to give.

Was it that obvious, though? He says I've lost weight again. I know that, but I attributed it to work.

But now that I'm haemorrhaging again, I wonder if there's more to it.

Sleepless nights. My job's been keeping me busy. I get home exhausted and fall into bed. And sleep a dreamless slumber, most nights. I'm glad for it.

I feel like an empty well, lately. Drained, run dry. The source has stopped producing water, but water keeps getting drawn out of me till there's nothing left to give. That's how I feel. Drained, empty, used up. Weary and exhausted. Physically, emotionally, spiritually, mentally. I feel it to my bones.

Perhaps I hadn't had time to fully come to terms with what happened last. Everything happened so rapidly. And now this. It's all come together. It's like two constructive wave forms integrating. And I'm getting a double whammy.

More than twice in shock and force.

I wish I could just take off and go away alone for some alone time to search, reflect and meditate. To some retreat. Or to go home to be pampered. And scolded and fussed over. I am getting homesick.

But not now I can't. Too many responsibilities. The projects have all come in. It's a busy time.

Accountability. It's something I know. I'll have to put that off awhile.

Working myself to the ground seems the next best option for now.

**
24.04.2007. 0926 hours.

I asked Anne if it were so. She was among the few that has seen me recently. She said there seems to be some bitterness and frustration in me. I was quite shocked. I suppose it should be expected, but my friends didn't deserve the brunt of my frustration. This is my issue. My fight.

This is my cross to carry. My friends shouldn't have to shoulder my bitterness, or frustration or acute disappointment. It has to stop. It stops here. I can't. I wouldn't continue to propagate the vicious cycle. The chain of disrespect and mistrust and infidelity.

It goes against everything I believe in. Every goodness I hold dear.