Unfinished

There are times when you come to mind.

And I wonder about what you're doing and how you are. And yet I never pick up the phone to call, in fact, I might have forgotten your number now. Funny, because only recently, I still did. Someone asked me if I have mental blocks. And I wonder if you're one of it.

And I wonder, too, what it would be if we were still talking.

I wonder about the what ifs, what could bes, and what might have beens.

I also wonder, what we would say to each other if we ever do cross paths in the future. Would I recognise your face if I see you again? Would you remember me? Would we pretend we didn't see each other and walk away? Or would we stop to say hello, even stop for a drink for old times' sakes?

I've no business wondering. I did force myself to forget.

And its strange that, almost always, invariably, the memory of you visits me when I'm at my saddest. When episodes of my life flashes before my closed eyes like seasons from a sitcom. So clear it was almost like yesterday.

In a way, perhaps, you're one of my regrets, if I have any. Perhaps because between you and I, its unfinished business.

So many things left unsaid, so much emotions left unspoken, so much left unexplained.

Although, I could, in a way, conclude from the lack of communication, a form of closure in itself, still, it's different than hearing it from you.

But perhaps, that always was our issue in the first place. You never really did speak much, and for myself, then, being young as I was, neither did I.

Henceforth, I promised myself that I would speak my mind, at whatever cost, because when it comes to you and I....

I just regret how things turned out.

Insomnia

movement... in the depths of my subconscious.

movement... the clock ticks. it slows down for no man or woman.

movement... restlessness. sleeplessness.

movement... and yet unseen. i feel it in the tingle on my skin. in the things i see between sleep and wakefulness. that no man's land. subtle... but it's there.

and last night for some reason, i couldn't sleep. something's afoot, and i know it. 0100 hours. 0300 hours. 0500 hours. 0700 hours. finally. o sleep, tis a gentle thing, beloved from pole to pole. to mary queen, the praise be giv'n, she sent the gentle sleep from heav'n, that slid into my soul. 0800 hours. and i'm awake.

the answer's on the calendar.

dammit. gotta put old demons to rest. watch em shrivel like an overturned snail covered in salt. it has to be SO over. i ain't hittin' 27 with a deadweight of shit on my shoulders.

so i dug into the demon-infested recesses of my memories, and revisited old wounds today. i don't know why i do this, sometimes. but i feel that i must do certain things only when i'm ready, and as a test to ascertain that i truly am ready to lay all ghosts to RIP.

the carousel... has stopped spinning. i've gotten off, finally. i walk away, but as i do, i look behind one last time. it had been quite a ride. there is a lot of sadness, and some nostalgia, a little bit of fondness. but i know full well the ride is over. and this would be one ride i would really rather not get on again.

i guess this explains it best:

No matter what you say about love
I keep coming back for more
Keep my hand in the fire
Sooner or later I get what I’m asking for

No matter what you say about life
I learn every time I bleed
The truth is a stranger
Soul is in danger I gotta let my spirit be free
To admit that I’m wrong and then change my mind
Sorry but I have to move on and leave you behind

I can’t waste time so give it a moment
I realize nothing's broken
No need to worry about everything I’ve done
Live every second like it was my last one
Don’t look back got a new direction
I loved you once, needed protection
You’re still a part of everything I do
You’re on my heart just like a tattoo
Just like a tattoo
I’ll always have you (I'll always have you)

Sick of playing all of these games
It’s not about taking sides
When I looked in the mirror didn’t deliver
It hurt enough to think that I could stop
Admit that I’m wrong and then change my mind
Sorry but I’ve gotta be strong and leave you behind

If I live every moment
Won’t change any moment
There's still a part of me in you
I will never regret you
Still the memory of you
Marks everything I do, oh

~Jordin Sparks, Tattoo~

the precipice... i realise now was a path i had to travel. a situation i had to experience to gain better insight into my own psyche. to better understand my motivations. the fall was painful and deeply depressing. but with it was a lesson so priceless, it was worth it all. to know who your true friends are, to realise why you make the mistakes that you do, is an epiphany that i would never give up now that i have the knowledge. self-knowledge is more potent than any other, perhaps because it is like taking one more step closer to God. He did, after all, make us in His likeness.

i have no regrets. the precipice happened for a reason, and even if the other party learnt nothing from it, i have done my part, and i have done my best.

this i walk away from without looking back at all. no nostalgia, no fondness, just self-awareness.

Memories are just where you laid them
Dragging the waters til the depths give up their dead
What did you expect to find?
Was it something you left behind?
Don't you remember anything I said when I said,

Don't fall away and leave me to myself
Don't fall away and leave love bleeding in my hands, in my hands again
And leave love bleeding in my hands, in my hands
Love lies bleeding
Oh hold me now I feel contagious
Am I the only place that you've left to go?
She cries her life is like
Some movie in black and white
Dead actors faking lines, over and over and over again she cries

And I watched as you turned away
You don't remember, but I do
You never even tried
Don't fall away and leave me to myself
Don't fall away and leave love bleeding in my hands, in my hands again
Leave love bleeding in my hands, in my hands again
Leave love bleeding in my hands, in my hands again, oh

~Fuel, Hemmorhage~

This scar is a fleck on my porcelain skin
Tried to reach deep but you couldn't get in
Now you're outside me
You see all the beauty
Repent all your sin

It's nothing but time and a face that you lose
I chose to feel it and you couldn't choose
I'll write you a postcard
I'll send you the news
From a house down the road from real love...

There's one thing I want to say, so I'll be brave
You were what I wanted
I gave what I gave
I'm not sorry I met you
I'm not sorry it's over
I'm not sorry there's nothing to save

I'M NOT SORRY THERE'S NOTHING TO SAVE...

~Stars, Your Ex-Lover Is Dead~

***
and as i toss and turn in my sad excuse for a bed last night, i wonder what the future has in store for me. so the demons are banished. what next?

this year has been difficult. yes i'm wiser now, i hope.

but all these just serves to tell me one thing. i know nothing. i can make no promises. all i have is me. and who i am now.

all of these just serves to remind me: i am of this earth. my life is not my own.

there is a greater power at work here. all i can do is plan. but whether or not my plans come to pass is not of my jurisdiction.

and i miss you. terribly.

have i ever told anyone: i find christmas a more subtly romantic event than valentine's? christmas is for family, and good friends, and cosy dinners. it's about passion and firelights. something of a reality rather than the candlelights of which dreams are spun.

and i miss you. terribly.

for one with such perpetual verbosity as i, the silence i find myself in now is plain insufferable.

and this christmas, words fail me.

so i suppose i'd just borrow janis gott's:

I know Santa is a friend of mine and he's always been good to me
Always treats me right every Christmas night puts things beneath my tree.
But the one thing I want him to bring has never been on his sleigh
It's always on my mind, a gift I'm hoping to find when I open my eyes on Christmas day

I want you to wrap your love around me like a big red Christmas bow
I want to feel your love surround me everywhere I go
And when the holidays are over no more tinsel, no more snow
Your love will still be wrapped around me like a big red Christmas bow

Take the stockings from the fireplace but leave the angel on the tree
To watch, protect and to direct your love straight down to me
Now close your eyes, here's my surprise, feel my heart if you need a clue.
It is yours alone for you to keep and to own in return I ask one thing of you.

I want you to wrap your love around me like a big red Christmas bow
I want to feel your love surround me everywhere I go
And when the holidays are over not a trace of mistletoe
Your love will still be wrapped around me like a big red Christmas bow
Your love will still be wrapped around me like a big red Christmas bow

~Janis Gott, Big Red Christmas Bow~

and again... i miss you. terribly.

Fragments

Sometimes the greatest journey is the distance between two people. Sometimes it's the distance between oneself and his emotions. And sometimes it's between a fallen one and salvation.

**

Have you ever had one of those moments, when all you wanted to do was disappear? Just. Disappear. Into the swirling, churning vortex of oblivion. Get lost in a city of billions. Drown in a sea of faces. Hide in the darkest shadows. Be common. Be nothing. Faceless. Nameless. Soulless. Nothingness.

**

Endless: Destiny, Death, Dream, Desire, Despair, Delirium, Destruction. Neil Gaiman is a genius. Dark, disturbing, but a genius nonetheless.

**

Boundaries...
At some point you have to make a decision.
Boundaries don't keep other people out.
They fence you in. Life's messy.
That's how we're made.
So you can waste your lives drawing lines,
Or you can live your life crossing them.

There was a time I related so well with some of the lines from Grey's Anatomy.

I'd rather live my life building bridges rather than erecting walls.... so explain to me why at times I feel an overwhelming need to build up my defenses. I'm not into attacking, most times I prefer to be left alone. But that never really works. So to avoid being completely crushed, I've always had to be constantly cautious, even defensive. And when I let down my guard occasionally, experience has taught me that it is, more often than not, a very bad move. So over and over again, after each crushing defeat, the defenses go up, higher with each subsequent time, faster in its rebuilding, thicker and stronger. And then up go the armaments.

I wish this weren't so. But tell me, how do I balance self-preservation and building bridges? Perhaps someday I'd have my answer that's out of the box. But for now, it's a terrible quandary.

**

I'm guessing it's either make it, or break it.

Mourning and Healing

this was meant to be blogged earlier. because it was something that happened over the weekend. but i only managed to find some time now.

sometimes the biggest epiphanies hits you between the eyes when you least expect it to.

spent the wee hours of sunday crying quietly in bed.

spent saturday night out celebrating a good buddy's birthday, ex-housemates from 'the apartment'. the scandalous apartment. the one with booze parties and things that happen with booze parties. u get the picture.

there's something i wanna say to someone who shared that table that saturday night.

**

thank you. i took up that dare because i needed to feel like a woman again. because i needed to heal.

no, i didn't realise it then. all i felt then was depression, and pain suppressed so deeply in me, it took all i had to not go back to the darkness i thought i had left behind when i moved out.

of course, you probably didn't realise i was doing that. how could you, when i barely realised it myself?

i'm not even sure anyone at that booze party realise the fragile mask i had put on. the anger and frustration behind the smile. the mask-it was pure china, all of it.

there were signs, though, i normally don't start a drinking session by sculling whiskey neat, immediately. shot after shot of it. special brew, to boot. i like to start my drinking session slow and easy, normally.

i wonder if anyone noticed the craziness in my eyes. then again, i was wearing my glasses. it was dark. and i act crazy all the time. add to that the fact that everyone was trying to knock themselves out. no, i guess not.

i'm sorry if knowing this now would make you feel used. i don't mean it to. i didn't even realise it then. i suppose we'd always be teased about it. which is fine by me. i did ask for it by taking up your challenge. after all... i was single then, and so were you. you liked it then, and so did i.

and though i suspect you too, were harbouring your own dirty little depressing secret, it was still no excuse.

i doubt you know what you did for me. how broken i was inside then. how i curled myself up into a little ball every night as i wrapped myself around the middle in the protective foetal position while i sobbed myself to sleep. how i hated what i did, what had happened, what i had allowed myself to happen, how i allowed it to happen, how i allowed him to treat me the way he did, who i was.

how i felt the secrets and lies and deceit were too much for me to bear, and the burden of holding it was crushing me underneath it's weight. how i felt i could speak to no one, and the loneliness of that was choking me. how i feared for my own sanity, and the depression was so dark, holding me in it's visceral grip, i felt i could never set myself free.

i lost perspective. i lost confidence. i lost my sense of self. i lost sight. i lost sense. i lost hearing. i lost touch. with myself. with reality. self-preservation. self-worth. self-confidence. all slowly came crumbling down in a span of several ugly months.

yet i have no regrets. i'm a success. it's only a failure, only a regret if i never learnt from it. i did. i still do. it was hard-fought, hard-earned, and terribly pricey, but i came out a victor at the end. battered, bruised, left for dead, but i survived. i made it, and i'm stronger, and happier, and, hopefully, wiser.

so i do have to thank you for helping me heal... i suppose the moment i sculled that shot, and took your hand to get on that balcony, i made a conscious decision to start forgetting and start healing. quick. who better to make me feel like a sexpot again than one known for making women quiver within a 30-mile radius? after having had my face rubbed into horse manure, over and over again, it was high time to wipe the tears, wash myself, put on my best clothes and sexiest strut and have me some sexytime.

and it worked. better than i myself thought. it was a confidence-booster. it was sewing up old hurts and storing them away. it was knowing i still have it in me to make a man perk up and take notice. i needed that, and you gave it to me, with or without knowing you did it.

and although things almost got out of hand, i'm glad things didn't get further than they did, though. it shouldn't, and it didn't. so let's just keep what happened there where it is. i wouldn't change what happened on the merit of what i got out of it. i consider it a gift, and i thank you for it.

i know you liked it as much, but i sure hope it wasn't a regret. we've both moved on from there, after all.

like they say: all's well that end's well. que sera sera.

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...

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 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.

work.. and the Y chromosome Pt.1

i'm at work working on an old presentation, and getting kinda bored.

i'm gonna talk about guys. not men. i'm drawing a distinctive line. so don't get snarky.

i know this is gonna insult a lot of people, but i'm merely speaking from experience. mine and some others close to me. shan't mention names, those aren't pleasant memories.

not really ranting, either.

not really being 'emo', too.

just... writing down my thoughts and reasons.

being as honest and candid as possible.

because writing to semi-strangers, with technology as a mediator, is sometimes easier than speaking face-to-face. also because this sometimes serves a greater purpose to reach a wider audience.

aichiban asks what i look for in a 'breeding partner' :P he's not the first to ask. there's been many before him. i've just never been as honest.

these past few months have required plenty of soul-searching from me. who am i? what do i want? what do i need? what can i do without?

reasons for soul-searching has been personal. and also because of things that happened to friends, and family.

firstly, though, my answer for aichiban:

i want a MAN who:

1) is trustworthy
2) is someone i can respect
3) is someone i can communicate at a deep level with
4) is loyal
5) is responsible
6) is caring
7) is loving
8) is fairly intelligent (i don't need a stephen hawking.. probably drive me mad, and not in a good way)
9) has a sense of humour i can understand
10) is someone i'm sexually attracted to (ahh but of course, no? else how to breed?)

he's got to be, for me, a life partner, a love partner, and a sex partner.

i really don't think that's too much to ask for. wouldn't that be things you'd seek in a partner? male OR female? a man would want those, too, i think. if we're being honest, and not joking about things.

hey, i want an Eric Bana lookalike. but i can live without it, if i meet someone who answers to the criteria above. no point having a handsome Greek-god lookalike who's empty and shallow inside. who doesn't have a heart. who's selfish.

Scenario A
i've dated a guy who strung me along for 4 years. that's 4 years of my life wasted on an unsuitable boy. yes, i was foolish enough to put my hopes on someone who didn't care. who treated me as a spare tyre. who flirts shamelessly with me when he's gotten into an argument/ has broken up with his girlfriend. who neglects to tell me he has one, and when i found out that he did, he says that all that transpired between the both of us was just a joke.

it hurt. it still hurts.

someone said i'm bitter about it still. i'm not sure if i am. i'm disappointed in him, yes, but, bitter? i don't wish him ill. i hope his current girlfriend would be treated better than i was. no girl deserves to be treated like dirt. but i'm definitely sad. i'm still upset about it, yes. but i'm not sure if i'd run him down with a steam-roller, or have him beaten up. i don't think so.

Scenario B
a friend liked someone for about 2-3 years. he flirted back. the usual suspects. the same story. then she wondered why he never said anything. she's got more guts than me. she told him: i like u. his reply: i know... but u're just not my type....

shit....

she's only just kinda got her 'dignity' back.

Scenario C
another friend's been with a guy for about 5 years. 5 FRIKKIN years. then he left her. says she isn't understanding enough. doesn't sacrifice enough for him. too this, too that. made her cry her eyes out. actually he has another girl now. she begged him to stay. wanted so much to try to work things out.

finally she stopped. cos his sms to her was: i'm only replying ur sms-es out of courtesy.

she snapped out of it when she saw that.

she told me this long after it's ended. my reaction: he couldn't even afford you the proper courtesy to say No nicely. what an asshole.

there are so many ways to say No. E.g.:
1) I think we shouldn't speak to each other anymore. It would be easier for both of us that way.
2) I don't feel for you the way I used to. I like this girl now. Talking to each other like this isn't going to make the break easier. Let's just have a clean break from each other.
3) Just don't reply. She'd get the picture. Eventually.

but that's not the end of it. what outraged me was that over chinese new year, he texted her to wish her cny. then when she didn't reply, he threw a 'tantrum' and said: what's the point i'm back when u won't even reply my sms?

honestly: HUH?? after all that rudeness, after all that hurt, when he's no longer on her radar, he just has to destroy her peace again? who the hell did he think he was to say something as ridiculous as that?

and a few months back, he texted her to say he's sorry for leaving her the way he did. for treating her the way he did. that he regrets leaving her now.

she thinks it's sincere. i don't think so. because it sounded awfully like what happened to me. so i told her what i thought. that he probably wants someone to listen to him. someone to sympathise with him. someone who'd feel sorry for him. because i suspected that he's had a BIG fight with his girlfriend.

i was right. i don't like to be proven time and again that what i know about boys be true, but she said he told her he's broken up with his girlfriend. and yet, she has, in good authority, the knowledge that he was still with her.

Scenario D
when i was 17, going 18, my cuzzie, who's now in Aussie, came back for a visit. she sat down with me, and asked me if i've ever fallen in love. i said i hadn't. mom's always said i've always been too level-headed. mom's worried i'd never get married. she smiled. and she told me to be careful. she told me i shouldn't give my heart to someone who wouldn't give his to me. and then she told me her story.

she was young, about my age then. she's 5 years older than i am. and she fell for a chinese hongki who was studying in the same school as she was. her mother was very much against the relationship, saying they're way too young, and she didn't like the boy very much. but cuzzie was adamant. she was heartbroken when her mom forced them to break up. in the end, her mother gave in to her, and she called him up to let him know. he said he was happy, and that he wanted to meet her to take her back to meet his parents. she was overjoyed. she agreed. he drove...

to take her to meet his OTHER girlfriend. and he told her, in front of the other girl. i've been going out with her all this while i was going out with u.

she was traumatised from that incident. for 5 years after that, she chose to be single.

Scenario E
i know a guy, who's been seeing a girl for almost 3 years now. he found out she cheated on him, but she begged him to stay. he did, though his heart's not in it. until now, he can't bring himself to forgive her. she does all the calling. most of the travelling. he wants 'the distance and the space'. recently she brought up marriage. he freaks. he does NOT want to marry her. but he's still with her. he likes the status quo.

i suspect he enjoys the power trip. the ego boost. someone clinging to him, saying she can't survive without him. begging him. i suspect he does it out of vengeance.

even if you were a guy, if the girls here were your sisters or just your friends, wouldn't you have told them to 'drop it (the guy they dated/ is dating) like it's hot!'?

i'm not making any of these stories up. so u be the judge then on whether i'm justified when i view most guys, in general, with suspicion.

~to be continued~

the call of Nemesis

this is who Nemesis is, for those who don't know, or don't bother to find out:

Nemesis (in Greek, Νέμεσις), also called Rhamnousia/Rhamnusia ("the goddess of Rhamnous"), at her sanctuary at Rhamnous, north of Marathon, in the Greek mythology was the spirit of divine retribution against those who succumb to hubris, vengeful fate personified as a remorseless goddess. The name Nemesis is related to the Greek word νείμειν, meaning "to give what is due". The Romans equated one aspect of Greek Nemesis, which might be interpreted as "indignation at unmerited advantage", as Invidia (Aronoff 2003)

i don't call myself Nemesis for nothing. when i've made up my mind that enough is enough. when i've lost enough sleep over something. when i've been pushed to my limit. i am Nemesis. and i don't take no shit from no mortal man.

***
last friday someone pissed me off so much, my entire face went scarlet. and when i went off for dinner, and went to the ladies', i noticed little red spots all over my chest, and upper arms, right down to my bosom.

it looked like i had an allergy reaction to alcohol. except i hadn't started drinking yet.

yes, i got so angry, that i burst my capillaries.

that's when i thought: Enough. Enough is enough. I don't need this. From anyone.

***
i had a difficult childhood. i was emotionally and socially blackmailed and bullied as a child. it taught me 3 important lessons:

a) how to phase out.

b) how to be utterly shameless, and to not bother about the general public's opinions of me.

c) how to take full control of my own life.

these are lessons i learned young. it was so difficult, as i was so young, but it has served me well.

now i'm using it. because i have to.

***
on sunday, i found out something about someone i cared for that was totally unexpected, and that put me out of my misery of several months. it helped me reach my decision, immediately. swift as the blow of the guillotine. a decision i've been getting sick, and losing sleep over. a decision i had taken months agonising about.

do i want to lose a friend?

but now, the question is: was this person a friend to me?

no one runs circles around a goddess using a mediocre mortal. s/he better at least be hercules, or in hercules' league (a demi-god)

stupid, stupid jackass.

***
the wheels are in motion. the time is ripe to give what is due. retribution is in order.

the table is set for one last negotiation. it's time to make an offer.

if things don't work out, the blade would strike.

no one has the right to be selfish to such an extent. no one can be allowed to have such an unmerited advantage over everyone else.

***
if you've made your own bed, learn to sleep in it.

both of you.

the doormat is metamorphing into the goddess of retribution.

What Oprah Said About Men

This was forwarded to me. Wonder what any one of you would say about this.

Personally, I think it couldn't be any more true. Probably an Omen for me.

These are truths I've known all along, and mentioned several times in conversations, but sometimes I don't really listen to myself.

It's at times like these, when I let my guard down, that I always get in trouble.

This is a sharing session. I don't share with strangers in a church cell-group, it makes me uncomfortable to open up when I don't want to, and expressions always betray me. But here, here is my space, and here I want to share a little about how this concerns me.

If my sharing makes you uncomfortable, turn your eyes away now. Forewarned is forearmed.

**
If a man wants you, nothing can keep him away.
If he doesn't want you, nothing can make him stay.

(1, 2, 3. I've mentioned this to both men and women, and it's sad to note that it's always so true. This I've said to more than one man, of my own accord, more than once, when I was asked why I won't fight for them. You see, I believe decisions have to be made on your own. Fighting just panders to a man's impossible ego. Walking away is always classier. And a man who would allow himself to be won by a woman who bitches about and disses another woman just so she can get her man is not worthy of my affection.)

Stop making excuses for a man and his behaviour.

(Yes. I shall stop. He cheats, he lies, he doesn't keep his promises. He doesn't want to be accountable or to take responsibility. He doesn't want to grow up. He doesn't want to learn. Or to change. It's his problem, not mine. Who cares if his women cheated on him? Who cares if she bores him? Who cares if they're not compatible? Who cares if sisters and brothers and mothers like her, although they don't suit each other? Who cares if his woman lets him step all over her? He could always change. He could always put a stop to it all. He has a choice. He made his bed. He sleep in it. Why must I allow myself to be dragged along? Yes, he is miserable. Yes, he is upset. But he doesn't want to change. There are no excuses for wallowing in self-misery, and burying himself in the quick-sand of uselessness. His life. His shit. Not mine.)

Allow your intuition (or spirit) to save you from heartache.
Stop trying to change yourself for a relationship that's not meant to be.

(Thank you. I am, who I am. Take me as I am, or not at all. Now I'd sooner go for sperm donation than allow idiocy near me again.)

Slower is better. Never live your life for a man before you find what makes you truly happy.

(Mother's wise words. Oh, how could I forget?)

If a relationship ends because the man was not treating you as you deserve then heck no, you can't "be friends".
A friend wouldn't mistreat a friend.
(Again, 1, 2, 3. How many times must I go through this before I realise it for what it is? No more. It's too painful. I have self-respect. Until he respects me and tells me what he wants from me, he isn't a friend. I shouldn't not allow myself the justification of telling him he's crap. Which he is. He's no friend. Friends don't make use of each other. Friends are there for each other through thick and thin. Friends protect and nurture each other. Friends listen to what each other has to say, and change for the better.)

Don't settle. If you feel like he is stringing you along, then he probably is.
(They all did. I was young, and stupid. I sure hope I'm smarter now.)

Don't stay because you think "it will get better." You'll be mad at yourself a year later for staying when things are not better.
(That's true. 4 years of wasted time. Being in Moronia. Somebody's 2 years plus of whiny self-pity. Where did it take either of us? Stuck in a rut, is where. Basta! I stop. It isn't going to get better if neither party makes an effort. Or if either one is too different from each other. Or if Trust, Respect OR Communication is already out the window. Pointless to force myself to pretend to be happy when I'm really not.)

The only person you can control in a relationship is you.

Avoid men who've got a bunch of children by a bunch of different women. He didn't marry them when he got them pregnant, why would he treat you any differently?
(If I am ever this stupid, somebody slap me. HARD. On both cheeks. The dude who thinks/ thought I'd do this really didn't take the time to know me well enough. So Fuck you.)

Always have your own set of friends separate from his.

(Told this to some girlfriends once. They thought I was cold. But I guess I was just never a child. And I never trusted men enough. Or I just liked my own space way too much to give it up. Freedom is important to me. Besides, if both partners mix in the same group, when a split happens, friends are forced to take sides. I'd be miserable if my ONLY friends are also his friends and my friends either feel bad about taking my side, or are no longer on my side. We all need friends. It's important to have mutual and separate friends. We're individuals sharing lives. Not barnacles. But this had always been what I felt. I was never young.)

Maintain boundaries in how a guy treats you. If something bothers you, speak up.
(Oh how they hate me for this. How I intimidate them, frighten them off. I don't care. I don't want men with dysfunctional gonads anyway.)

Never let a man know everything. He will use it against you later.
(True, thank God he doesn't know everything. None of them do. Even some of my best girlfriends do not know everything.)

You cannot change a man's behaviour.
Change comes from within.
(Therefore, no point trying to change a man if he doesn't want to change himself. It's true for everyone. If he changes for you, it'd be short term. It's like giving a man a fish. He eats for but a meal. If he changes for himself, it'd be for a lifetime. He'd have learnt how to fish. And he can fish for his meal until the day he dies.)

Don't EVER make him feel he is more important than you are... even if he has more education or in a better job.
Do not make him into a quasi-god. He is a man, nothing more nothing less.
Never let a man define who you are.
(I never did. I hope to God, I never will. I don't want to lose the sense of who I am. My independence, my self-assurance.)

Never borrow someone else's man. If he cheated with you, he'll cheat on you.
(Yes, so many of them. So I stop. No more. I don't want to do a Loser. Call a Dog, a Dog, and a Cat, a Cat. Call a Loser, a Loser. A Cheat, a Cheat. A Liar, a Liar. A Bastard, a Bastard. I shall stop side-stepping the issue and call it as it is. And I shall be accountable for my own sins.)

A man will only treat you the way you ALLOW him to treat you.
(So I gotta make sure I treat myself right, first of all.)

All men are NOT dogs.
(No, though there are plenty of them around, they can cloud your judgment.)

You should not be the one doing all the bending...compromise is a two way street.

You need time to heal between relationships. ..there is nothing cute about baggage... deal with your issues before pursuing a new relationship.
(Tough lesson learned. And yet so many refuse to see.)

You should never look for someone to COMPLETE you... a relationship consists of two WHOLE individuals.
Look for someone complementary, not supplementary.

Dating is fun...even if he doesn't turn out to be Mr. Right.
(Yes it is :))

Make him miss you sometimes... when a man always know where you are, and you're always readily available to him - he takes it for granted.
(Men take many things for granted. All the time.)

Never move into his mother's house.
(NO. How'd he like moving into mine? Another way to get him to take you for granted.)

Never co-sign for a man. Don't fully commit to a man who doesn't give you everything that you need.
(That means a lot of attention, a lot of love and devotion, lots of kisses and cuddles, bedtime aerobics to burn off the calories he fed u, no irresponsible cowardice, and a diamond ring and his mother's blessings for good measure. But remember, it's him you're marrying, not his mother. You don't have to like her to be civil to her.)

Keep him in your radar but get to know others.
(Because, trust me, that's EXACTLY what he's doing to you.)

Share this with other women and men (just so they know)... You'll make
someone smile, another rethink her choices, and another woman prepare.
They say it takes a minute to find a special person, an hour to appreciate
them, a day to love them and an entire lifetime to forget them.
**

That's what I've to say. Guess I was never young. It's been said that all women are born with a hundred years' worth of collective feminine wisdom on them. Sometimes, I wonder if I was born with 150. It's both a blessing and a curse.

Of Balloons and Conversations

Thursday, 12.04.2007. 2300 hours.

Was at McDs with The Girl and Little Boss. Little Boss was supposed to get us McDs new Hotcakes but apparently he forgot. I wonder if it was some subversive tactics to get me to "Eat Protein! In Every Meal!" Auntie betul laaa.... :)

McDs had all these colourful balloons all over the place, and me, having a THING for balloons, told The Girl I wanted a white one. White one was really puuurrrrtttiiiiieeeee...... Little Boss heard it and said: Ask them for it la! I said I didn't want it, it was just a passing remark, plus! how was i going to carry it on the train with me? Shy-lar! He actually asked McDs staff for one. They brought him a bunch, but he asked for one, even one that wasn't blown yet. They gave him a handful of those, so he blew one up in the elevator and gave it to me.

Cute, but I thought it was a rather crazy thing to do. And very shy-lar. Oh well :)

Nice of him to do that, and I got my balloon, though it was quite embarrassing to go through all that ruckus at McDs.

**

On another note, a conversation with someone today brought home yet again the realisation that:

You gotta let go of the past, to move forward with the present into the future.

That's a problem, isn't it? How to know to draw the line, and say: Well, fuck it! This is holding me back, I have to cut this off to improve my quality of life. Funny how so many things can affect us without our realising to what extent it does. Until it's too late.

I've always been too cerebral about my emotions. I have to analyse everything. Think things through. Over and over. From as many angles as I possibly can. I've always perceived love first with my head, and then my heart: I can never fall in love with this guy. He's not right for (whatever) reasons. No. Don't get too close. Don't get swept off your feet. Never gonna happen. So don't even try. You're gonna get burnt so bad, 3rd degree burns are nothing. So don't even go there.

I rationalise everything. Why Does this happen? Why Doesn't this happen? There's a reason. Always, there's a reason. It's just whether I can fathom it. I don't know why I do it, but I do.

Have I ever fallen in love? No. Fall doesn't describe it. I can't do falling. I do it too much physically to allow it emotionally. Have I ever liked someone enough to consider allowing myself to Grow into loving him? Yes. Once. How'd I like it? Figured out after 4 years, he ain't worth jack. Move on.

What did I learn? If a guy doesn't bother explaining to you what he thinks and feels about you, don't waste your time. Go on with your life and spread your wings. Learn how to fly. Always depend on yourself. Men come. Men go. If you want to stay where you want to stay, learn to leave a mark. Your own.

If a man doesn't know how to tell you how he feels, run. Unless you want to be with a boy. If you don't, find things to do with yourself and your time. Have a life of your own. Love yourself first, because a man isn't going to do it for you if you don't do it for yourself. There's a huge difference between men and boys.

If a man isn't going to stay, he isn't going to stay. Whine, whinge, threaten suicide, get pregnant, throw a tantrum, get bipolar and manic depressive, it won't make a bloody difference. What do you want? A man who loves you wholeheartedly, for who you are, and who you can be, or a shell which is only there because you want him there? Do you want to be making love to a shadow who's there physically on your demand, but committing, repeatedly, emotional infidelity, or someone who loves you, faithfully, desperately, adoringly?

I want a man who would love me like that: faithfully, desperately, adoringly.
Any other way is no way. Because I would respond in kind. I know I could. And I know I would.

Take me as I am, or not at all.

So I didn't make him stay.
I walked away.

If his heart wasn't in me, I didn't want him faking something that isn't real.

No regrets except one.

The friendship died with it. I could no longer even trust him as a friend. It was pointless.

But I no longer had a nagging doubt, a burden.

It was a major relief.

I just wonder why, history keeps repeating itself.

How many trials by fire must I go through before I've compensated for all my sins? How long more before I could finally have someone make me smile, rather than try to make someone else smile at my expense?

Trials by fire. I've had enough.

the fever

the fever

been sick these past few days.

woke up last night sweating, in a feverish stupor. disoriented. with a hollow feeling in my chest.

i should have gotten over him by now. why the dreams now? i thought i had put him out of my mind.

and i think i have a certain amount of success with that. conscious, contrived effort to push memories out.

there are things i've forgotten. things i used to remember without much effort which i've now forgotten.

maybe it's working...

then why? so many months, with some success, and suddenly a relapse. it's such a blow.

it's a sucker punch to my gut.

it makes me wonder whether i could look at him if i meet him somewhere by chance someday.

not yet. i don't think i could, as yet.

i hope he never finds out what he did to me. what he still does.

i don't want him to ever know.

let him always think of me as cold and sharp.

better that than this. this humiliates me.

it cuts too deep. it still cuts too deep.