Fear

It holds us back....

It kept me in KL, a place I've never really liked very much for almost 10 years.

It kept me from having real relationships with men, perhaps, always choosing the ones who could never really be truly intimate with me.

It kept me from breaking clean with someone I couldn't trust for 2 years.

Perhaps I was afraid of rejection. Perhaps I was afraid to be alone again.

But I'm not happy. I'm tired of the broken promises. Tired of not being able to fully trust someone. Tired of being just a little bit better than a best lady friend. What's so special about me, then... right?

I'm tired of being paranoid. Tired of being afraid.

Take a bow now. So the curtains have finally come down. Not for lack of trying. Perhaps it's just time to move on. Perhaps things aren't meant to be. Perhaps you and I, we're too different when it comes to our definition of fidelity vs. infidelity.

Thank you for 2 1/2 years. Not all of it were bad. We had some sweet moments... not enough, unfortunately, to make up for the sad ones.

But everyone needs a first love, and you were mine. Thank you for the memories.

Vicissitudes

I had decided a while back that I'd like to try a new life somewhere before I'm 30.

But things never seemed to go the way I wished it to.

For awhile, I despaired. I wondered why everyone seemed so sure and so settled, yet I'm still floundering like a fish out of water.

Things were very difficult. I was getting very tired in my personal life, I was tired of fighting what always seemed inevitable....

I was also tired of the place I was living in, and I was looking to move out....

At work, my team was getting bullied, and so, slowly, one by one, they were all leaving... yet it seemed like I was the only one who was left behind.

And so I prayed.... I applied elsewhere, I sought guidance... I told My Lord... this is what I'm hoping for... but let Your Will be done... I put my life in Your gentle hands, I let myself be guided by Your Wisdom.... I know that You will let things happen, when You see fit, in Your time, not in mine.

Months passed. Things seemed to get from bad to worse.

Personally, I felt I was not going to wait for things to get better, I stopped fighting. I guess in a way, a part of me kind of died inside. And I let it die. I explained things, I tried what I can, but I suppose I stopped wondering. I stopped asking. I don't know if I stopped caring, perhaps I never will, but I stopped trying to take the burden of it on my shoulders.

I had my own life to live now. And so I decided I should live it.

I should celebrate life, so that if I should face death, I will have no regrets.

I spoke up at where I was staying. I said I was unhappy, I said I didn't wanna care so much anymore. I know one of them took offence, but I decided, if things don't change by May, I'd just leave this place behind me.

As for work, I had decided I'm looking elsewhere, but if there's nothing, I'd consider just resigning and going home for some re-assessment.

I asked for help. I sent my resumes here, there, anywhere I can get help.

I'm still seeing dragonflies. As many as two years ago again, and as consistently. I wondered if it's a sign, and I prayed again that He shall reveal Himself to me in His time and in His way.

And I got my answer. Last night, my prayer was answered. I have an offer. Quite good at that. In a neighbouring place....

I'm afraid, to be honest... It's not easy uprooting oneself and transplanting myself somewhere else. It's not easy giving up everything I've built for myself for 9 years here. It's not easy leaving my comfort zone.... but I felt I must. It's a push I have not felt for a long long time....

I asked for a sign, and it couldn't be clearer than this... Someone told me once: if you don't get something you asked for, don't despair, it just means that it's not meant for you, and God has a better plan for you.

Perhaps I'm ready now, and God wants me to go follow my heart.

I'm afraid, this may make or break everything. This may make or break me. I pray the Good Lord grants me the serenity to accept the things that I cannot change... the courage to change the things that I can.... and the wisdom to know the difference....

I'm learning... to celebrate life....

i know not where to start, and i know not where i'd end

how to start when i don't even know for sure what happened?

i guess it's a culmination of all the little things. little things become big things. big things grow into monsters and lurk under beds and in closets. and one fine day, u put your smelly shoes under the bed and the monsters storm out.

little things...

Every now and then I get a little bit lonely and you're never coming round
Every now and then I get a little bit tired of listening to the sound of my tears
Every now and then I get a little bit nervous that the best of all the years have gone by

Every now and then I fall apart

I don't know what to do and I'm always in the dark
We're living in a powder keg and giving off sparks

Once upon a time I was falling in love, but now I'm only falling apart
There's nothing I can do... a total eclipse of the heart

little things... i have my flaws, i know. but Lord knows i've tried. and u know that too. so how could you think i think any less of you?

I'm strong on the surface, not all the way through
I've never been perfect, but neither have you

i'm just a girl with her first serious love after all.

I can't be who you are

Forgetting all the hurt inside you've learned to hide so well
Pretending someone else can come and save me from myself
I can't be who you are

There's no more need to pretend
Cause now I can begin again

Send a heartbeat to
The void that cries through you
Relive the pictures that have come to pass
For now we stand alone
The world is lost and blown
And we are flesh and blood disintegrate
With no more to hate

Delivered from the blast
The last of a line of lasts
The pale princess of a palace cracked
And now the kingdom comes
Crashing down undone
And I am a master of a nothing place
Of recoil and grace

Is it bright where you are
Have the people changed
Does it make you happy you're so strange
And in your darkest hour
I hold secrets flame
We can watch the world devoured in its pain

sigh. would you believe me if i told you each night i get on my knees and pray? for what was, what is, what might have been and what might be?

when did we come to this? watching each other from the corners of our eyes? walking on eggshells around each other? when did we start censoring ourselves?

here i am 2 months later, singing the same tune, the same song:

I just don't know what to say
Why can't we be ourselves like we were yesterday

I'm not sure what this could mean
I don't think you're what you seem
I do admit to myself
That if I hurt someone else
Then I'll never see just what we're meant to be

Every time I see you falling
I get down on my knees and pray
I'm waiting for the final moment
You'll say the words that I can't say

every time i see you falling.... everytime

My Empire of Dirt

Sunday, 24.08.2008. 0204 hours

My Empire of Dirt

Why do I sometimes despair so?

K asked me out tonight, and I just couldn't say no, tired as I was, lacking sleep as I was, imploding as I was.

The four walls were stifling me. We hadn't talked for awhile, and I just had to get things off my chest. Things I could tell only a handful of people. Things I just couldn't tell you or it'd send us both hurtling into a hopeless spiralling melange of emotions. And when things can't be solved face to face, we'd end up both lying in bed thinking wtf.

Well, I know I do.

The bad dreams do not help either. It's not just insecurity I feel. It's insecurity tinged with a certain amount of resignation.

I try to push all of these aside, but when figures of the past come out of the woodwork and stand tall, I can only feel so small.

Is this delirium?

The needle tears a hole
The old familiar sting
Try to kill it all away
But I remember everything
What have I become?

Full of broken thoughts
I cannot repair
Beneath the stain of time
The feeling disappears

You are someone else
I am still right here
What have I become?

You could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt

If I could start again
A million miles away
I would keep myself
I would find a way

~excerpt: Nine Inch Nails- Hurt~

Sigh...

Pieces

A fragile mind is always teetering on the very edge of madness.

Today, my new colleague of barely a month or so made an observation about me that hasn't been made in awhile. Perhaps it is true, gay men are more astute after all:

You're too nice. You're a doormat.

I suppose it's true.

Despite my layers of cynicism...
I WOULD LIKE to be proven wrong once in awhile.
I WOULD LIKE to be able to take a person's statements at face value.
I WOULD LIKE to be able to trust someone so completely, I could be spared the worry of being lied to, betrayed and backstabbed.
I WOULD LIKE to be able to be taken for who I am, and not have to worry about being compared with someone and found lacking.
I WOULD LIKE to be able to take someone just as s/he is without worrying about ulterior motives.

But that's not how it works, isn't it?

A young wise friend of mine once said: there's no such thing as true altruism in this world.

And oh! What a jaded thing to say from one so young. But as time goes by, I'm more and more tempted to just, one fine day, pack up everything I have, go into a jungle up in the mountains, and never be seen again.

Because at times, animals make better company than people, no matter how fascinating people can be.

They lack that self-absorbed egocentricism that people have, and which I have had frightening brushes with, in the not-too-distant past. It makes me wonder, at times, what I've done in a past life (if that's your kinda thing) to be such a magnet for people who ultimately end up using me as a psychological/emotional/mental bedrock. And when they think they're about done, they prepare to toss you like a ragdoll.

Thxbai.

After all, what does one do with a well that has run dry?

There's a fine line between fear and awareness.
There's a fine line between genius and madness.
There's a fine line between melancholy and depression.
There's a fine line between confidence and pride.
There's a fine line between solitude and loneliness.
There's a fine line between love and hate.
There's a fine line between life and death.

Thank you for the catharsis.

Randomness.

An Act of Seven Ages-As You Like It

They say nice girls finish last. And good girls go to heaven, bad girls go everywhere. So I wonder often: Where do the imperfect average like myself go then? Which word am I among the pages of the great novel? Which drop am I in the vastness of the waters of the oceans? Which blip am I in the cosmic radar?

Pray tell me, because I'd surely like to know.

Who am I? Say I'm a pawn in the great chess game... then, what is my function? What is my role?

They say all the world's a stage... the men and women merely its' players... they have their exits and their entrances... and one man in his time, plays many parts... his act being seven ages....

Maybe so. If I'm lucky. So what is my role?

Sometimes... I know I'm too choosy, at times. Yet at other times, I wonder if I settle too quickly.

Someone once told me I demanded perfection too much. The perfect man. The perfect job. Is that so? Another told me my idea of the perfect man is one who builds his life around me. But then, wouldn't that bore me?

I want something that will last. Or at least, the foundations of a lasting legacy. Am I foolish to hold on to the notion that I certainly do not expect to be the first, but I would hope to be, like to be, the last? Is that too much naivete? Or is that demanding too little, of myself, especially?

Seven ages... an act of seven ages is a long time. I would want it to be fulfilling.. at the very least.

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.

A Toast to 2007. A Drink to 2008

2007: A year with many blessings in disguise i suppose. When it comes to 2007, i suppose the best way to describe it is this: we can prescribe, God decides. In BM: manusia merancang, Tuhan yang menentukan.

I'd like to think I have matured much from 2006, in 2007, but i can't really say. I think i've wisened up a lot though, but that's just a personal perspective. I know i hit a really low point, n clawed my way out of there, but i think i gained a lot of personal strength from that chain of experiences.

There was much to be thankful for. Met many new good friends, got a job i'm pretty happy with, minus the crap slp :P met someone i'm happy to be around with.

Many little happy things: good conversations with friends, sharing happy moments, sharing unhappy moments. Knowing who your real friends are when bad things happen. Sharing good times and good news with those good friends :)

So here's a toast to 2007, and a drink to 2008!! Hope next year is a much better year for everyone!

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.

christmas around the corner!

i've been so darn busy at work, i almost forgot christmas is less than a month away until going on joey's multiply reminded me...

so i tuned in to christmas radio.. and i started dancing to Jingle Bell Rock :P

christmas had always been a favourite season.. all that altruistic love and happy jolly feeling. easter is a time for somber spiritual development, christmas... christmas is a time for the young and young at heart to be all lovey-dovey :P a time for giving and good will all around.

and the parties!! year-end parties are the best!

i miss christmas at home. in a place that's majority christian, with the hugest catholic cathedral in the nation, u can feel the excitement strumming through the air by late october. that buzz... the preparation for christmas choir and christmas carolling...christmas deco everywhere... christmas songs blasting everywhere, every shopping area would be playing christmas jingles.

dammit... i miss christmas at home. i had planned to go back this year, but my parents would be around instead. which is great, i miss them, but there's nothing like going back to the cathedral where you spent every sunday as a girl staring at the sunlight streaming through the stained glass windows casting shadows of a myriad colours over the pews. and you're wondering how they got the glass such a brilliant blue, or red, or green. and you're thinking... it's so pretty. and when you're bored, you run outside to climb the walls of the church with the other children. while your parents prayed inside, you played outside :P but always, you go back inside to look for mommy.

then as you grew older, you became an out-standing catholic... cos the cathedral was too darn hot for you at times... but the bigger reason was that it was so much fun half-listening to the sermons while staring at fashion parade outside... the peacocks were so pretty, dressed in the latest converse bags and shoes. the bold and the beautiful were always outside at sunset mass, whether or not they were catholics :)

then you left school, and every time you could go home and go to church was precious, so this time you sat inside, and prayed like your parents did, and you'd meet friends outside after mass. guess you grew up, somewhat.

all those years, church on sundays, first friday masses in school, school feastday masses, days of obligation, and you fidgeted at the thought of staying the entire duration of the mass in church, especially 2 to 2 1/2 hour long high masses. yet now you would rather spend easter triduum and christmas season at home. odd how things turn out.

who wants to watch christmassy movies with me?

I’ll be home for Christmas,
You can count on me,
Please have snow, and mistletoe,
And presents ‘neath the tree.
Christmas Eve will find me,
Where the lovelight gleams,
I’ll be home for Christmas,
If only in my dreams…
Christmas Eve will find me,
Where the lovelight gleams,
I’ll be home, I’ll be home,
If only in my dreams…

and my customary Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas

Christmas future is far away,
Christmas past is past,
Christmas presents are here to stay,
Bringing joy that may last
Have yourself a merry little Christmas,
Let your heart be light,
In a year, our troubles will be out of sight
Have yourself a merry little Christmas,
Make the Yuletide gay,
In a year, our troubles will be miles away
Here we are as in olden days,
Happy golden days of yore,
Precious friends who are dear to us,
Gather near to us once more
In a year, we all will be together,
If our fates allow,
Until then, we’ll just have to muddle through somehow,
And have yourself a merry little Christmas now.

Christmas hugs and kisses all around! :P

oh wait... that's in 3 weeks time :)

listening to: Jim Brickman's Greensleeves on Merry Christmas Radio

Foreign

Strange how the thing I'm frightened most of is myself. What I'm capable of. And the things I don't understand. And don't know. And in the stillness of the night I lie awake and wonder. If I'm a fool, or if I'm a coward. My gut clenches in fear and my heart pounds. It pounds so hard I wonder if my ribcage would burst open with the pressure.

Fear. It's a foreign vocabulary. This is foreign territory. And I'm a foreigner here.

The insecurities come doubling back. And I'm bent double from the onslaught. Merciless. Unstoppable. Sudden. With no room for weakness. No room to catch a breath. And I know not how to fight back. How to stop this.

Fear. It's a foreign vocabulary. This is foreign territory. And I'm a foreigner here. In a foreign land.

Foreign.

high school

:D went on discussion board for STS' alumni on what was it we miss about school most:

here are some which i had ALMOST forgotten....:

1. band practice (STS band rawked!)

2. school library (yeah, we had some REALLY INTERESTING books there :P)

3. climbing over St Jude's gate when they locked it in order to go to St Joe Parish tuition (HAHAHA!! GUILTY!!! lihai lehhh... in pinafore skirts some more... *rolls eyes* damn tomboy, i know :P)

4. St Jude's Maggie Mee curry with egg. Very sedap and unique taste, I'm still trying to get the same taste for my own Maggie mee curry. (OMG... YAAAA.....)

5. The lab storeroom where they stored preserved fetuses. That's what got me hyped about biology and ended up doing vet med. Yeah, I'm a sadist. (OMG... YARRRRRRRRRRR AGAIN! we had the COOLEST bio lab shit ever!)

6. Canteen's Sarawak laksa. Bloody damn sedap and cheap too. And also the mee soup. (:D YESH... and Mee Jawa too, i think. STS' canteen food pwnts SJS' anyday :P:P:P)

7. going to toilet with a special key (:P don't ask why, we also dunno. prolly so girls don't stuff used pads down the toilet and block up the entire sewerage system of the toilet block. yah. we had toilet BLOCKS :P)

8. The 'haunted' school hall back staircase! LOL! (yeah... all the ghost stories :P)

9. The beautiful school grounds with all the trees.. falling leaves (very autumn-ish) and all that! (OMG... yessss..... i still have dreams of going back to school when the leaves are falling, and walking the school grounds with it's up hills and down hills. like i used to do every morning yonks ago...)

10. The classrooms which were never too sunny.. and from the top floor, if you were lucky, you could actually see squirrels! (squirrels, birds, and hordes of other things :P)

11. First Fridays, because classes would start late (MUAHAHAHA... and those Days of Obligation, etc. etc. i know non-catholics (*coff*psycho!*coff*) who would suddenly be catholic for a day :P

12. summerhouse's ice kacang (by the 3 sisters. old fashioned, cooked with charcoal... YUMMMMM.... they don't have it anymore :()

13. playing board games on the LAST day of exams/school (and a lot of other made-up games to entertain ourselves :P)

14. choral speaking :P

15. the colourful teachers.

16. Old St. Mike's. (for kolomee and cui kiao :D)

that's what i missed as mentioned on the discussion board.

these are mine that weren't mentioned:

17. opening the merit-demerit book on the first day of school and seeing this:
dilarang berdua-duaan di kawasan perkarangan sekolah, gereja, dan perkuburan gereja. mata demerit: 10 markah (? or was it 20 markah? whatever. it was A LOT ok, for berdua-duaan! :P)

18. having a class more than 50% prefects.... and all BLOODY CORRUPTED to boot. :P *pssstttt..... spotcheck! keep the things!* LOL!

19. hiding liquid papers, CDs, and all manner of illegal stuff behind the boards at the back of the class, and the old blackboards in front.

20. being in a reallllyyyyy oooooolllllllddddddd school. u can smell the history seeping from the halls and stairways :) and the moveable double blackboards. :P that's the only reason i watch Harry Potter movies :P it reminds me of the la sallian brothers, franciscan sisters and british education system which our own is based on. even more so back home, and in a convent school like STS. :)

21. working on the school mag with davi, marg and siew ling. that's english and bm editors for u :)

22. annoying the fuck out of our teachers. making one particular one cry in primary 5. ok, not proud of it. but he was a MAJOR ASS.

23. creating jingles..... like: on top of spaghetti... all covered with cheese..... or: batman!!! walkin' down the highway, car came the other way, FLATMAAAANNNNN!!!! :D

24. the pencil family.

25. paper hangman, and those games where we divided a paper into columns labelled: countries, names, cities, famous people, animals, etc. 98 girls would know what i'm talking about ;) man, we were nerds/geeks. :P and proud of it!

26. creating ridiculous stories.

27. burping competitions in class. C/JJ were probably the undisputed queens of the burp!

28. having a fascination and endless conversations on GI Joe, Transformers, Saber Rider from 9-12, Aladdin from 12-14, X-Files from 14-our early 20s, archaelogy (especially Egyptian) from 13-18? *rolls eyes* definitely tomboys, we were :P

29. wearing shorts underneath our pinafores.

30. hanging-out at the church compound after school.

31. the sense of school pride. :) yeah, elitist somewhat, but i can't help it. A Teresian once, a Teresian for life! it was, after all, what forged and formed my identity.

32. the life-long friendships we forged for life. :) that's priceless, girls. it really is. XOXOXO. wherever we will go. however far we would move away from home and each other. there'll always be a bond between us. :) a toast to my sisters!

anything else? :) can't think of anymore right now. and it's time to go home :D

Pacemaker

Thursday, 25.10.2007. 2151 hours.

My aunt is going on the pacemaker tomorrow. She fainted and her heart just stopped beating.

When mami called and I spoke to her, she sounded so different. So weak. So frail. So unlike the woman I so vividly remembered from my youth.

She was so vivacious, so energetic. Always so full of vitality, spirit. She always looked and acted way younger than her 62 years. Even last month, when I spoke to her, she still had that spark. That laughter in her voice.

How different that now she sounded like she was at death's door already, and I felt so lost for words. How to comfort her? How to make her smile? Her husband passed away when I was 18 from kidney failure. Her youngest boy is only a year older than I. She worries about him still. What can I say to make her feel better?

Here is a woman of strength, who still managed to build a substantially successful business and send her 3 children to Australia on a Form 3 education, who became Lion's Club President in a male-dominated small town.

Who stood up for her daughter when she felt her daughter was being put down, and she needed her. Who put up with me when I visited my grandmother alone.

I feel bereft already. Mami always did say I was more like her sister than I was like her. Rooster women, she said. Rooster women were strong. Rooster women were ambitious. Rooster women had fire. Rooster women don't give up.

I sure hope so. I pray to God that's true. She's too young. Not like this anyway. Not like this.

Asphyxiated Exhibit

Thursday, 25.10.2007. 1838 hours.

Today I felt as though I were a museum exhibit on display.

To be stared at, prodded, gawked at, quizzed about.

I know it's just the paranoia in me, but I couldn't help feeling like that.

I'm unused to unsolicited attention.

First by my friends, then by his friends.

Add the frustration of going nowhere with my stalled work, and the SLP being downright abrasive, and I felt ready to implode.

My privacy and my stagefright are probably two of several of my well-kept secrets.

Since both are going to ashes, I might as well come clean with them.

Like I told J around this time last year, though among my schoolmates (J's one of them), I was a known retired public-speaker, what they didn't know was how I'd break out in cold cold sweat, and my hands would shake each time I go out on stage. My father's training, and later my own public-speaking taught me to hide that initial nervousness. And obviously I learnt to do it well enough for people to not notice.

It's the same with my privacy. Behind the aggressive behaviour, the crazy laughter and the psychotic smile, I'm actually a very shy and intensely private person. I've trained myself to blush less. To ignore certain things. Yes, I'm used to a certain amount of attention. Doesn't mean I like all of it. Which is why I try to protect my privacy as much as possible. At least the innermost sanctuary where my many multiple personalities dwell. What's private to me, may not be private to someone else. To each their own.

I keep plenty of things close to my chest, I dislike laying down all my cards at once on the table to a person. Until I trust the person enough, am comfortable enough with sharing.

I dislike my private space disturbed. Few people know where I stay, even less are allowed into my room. Some call it anal, some call it freaky, but I like it that way. I make no apologies for my quirks.

My thoughts are even more so. I'm annoyed especially, with the SLP because he's an Extremely Invasive Man. Some things people just don't wanna tell you. Don't push it already. It's intrusive. A Transvaginal Ultrasound Scan plus Cervical Pap Smear is preferable to some of his choicest questions. For instance: "How can your father know everything. You mean he even knows who and how many men you had sex with?" This was less than a month from meeting him. And in front of colleagues to boot. I was so angry I could combust. No, I didn't. But the day I leave, I'm gonna tell him he's one obnoxious, snotty, irritating, egocentric little little asshole of a man. For now, it's 'Ignore Everything, Say Nothing.' Well, I can try. :(

To be asked so many private questions by so many people all at once, to then have my decision questioned at every turn, to later have a private conversation observed by others made me feel downright naked when I'm not ready to be. The unsolicited attention was enough to make me feel as though my private sanctum was intruded. Invaded. Without my permission. And then ransacked. I couldn't help getting my defenses up. It was a reflex defensive mechanism after all. And being used to standing up for myself and looking after my own interests on my own for the most part of my life, yes, I was downright defensive. And aggressively so.

I know I'm insane. Among other things. 'Prickly porcupine'. 'Cactus'. 'Seahorse'. 'More male than female'. 'Shrew'. An oxymoron. A walking contradiction. Anal, paranoid bitch. Psychotic, neurotic weirdo. :( I'm sorry. I make no excuses for all that.

No one owns the market on insecurities.

I'm trying. Learning to finally let go of my hang-ups, insecurities and plenty of little eccentricities, and then finally, and slowly, learning how to share my life so closely with another individual frightens me. It's difficult. At least for me.

I'm so used to being alone. I LIKE being alone. Independence is something I greatly appreciate. Having to answer to as little people as possible. That type of freedom to do what I want, when I want it. Behave however the fuck I want to. However the fuck I like. And the devil can fly with public opinion. Up yours, you know. Within the borderline norm of civic behaviour, of course.

Now I have to learn how to be a GIRL. Dammit. This isn't easy. Not for me, it's not. I was brought up to be with more boys than girls. To be more like a boy. To think like one, too. It was a counter-offensive measure.

Because girls, sadly, in the larger community, is treated more like a liability than an asset. Because in the larger scheme of things here, women are secondary to men. Dispensable. That's the ugly truth.

I would have liked that people could think that although men and women are equal, we are NOT the same. Men and women are made to complement one another. But it doesn't mean that women are all that different from men. Sigh.

I'm the female who told a guy in university who whined about women being difficult to understand and difficult to live with that: A hole is a hole to you, right? So if women are that difficult, go settle down with a pinata la!!

Fine. I'm aggressive when I get my defenses up. :( No one likes the truth being thrust in their faces, I suppose. Yes, damn macho. :(

Being a girl. I wonder if I could do that. This is worse than being given 1 week to study for a Physics exam. At least there, only I would get hurt if I fail. :(

I know this news is THE bomb, Myocardial Infarction-worthy. It being a first, it's a novelty, too. But I'm trying to get used to this whole idea myself. Still currently trying to slowly feel my way. Groping half-blind in the half-dark, in a way.

Cut me some slack, people. I'm not a lab specimen. I'm not a goldfish living in a fishbowl. Give me some room to breathe. Please. I feel asphyxiated.

on a cold rainy morning

i'm thinking:

wet hummus on a cold heavily-raining morning smells delightful.

sometimes familiarity breeds contempt, as much as absence makes the heart grow fonder.

sometimes i just wanna be alone. just for awhile. just to discover who i am.

sometimes i hate being a woman. sometimes i wish i were a man.

sometimes i whine so much, i'm disgusted with me.

i need a holiday. badly.

soft light cotton against the skin feels so darn comfy.

i wanna stay in bed. and do things on 400-threadcount sheets. because it's cold. and it's so wet outside. and i'd rather, much rather stay home in bed where it's warm, and where dreams are made.

i think i need to get back to a place where i can see trees that grow naturally, not get planted to give the place an ornamental look. what's happened to a beauty that's wild and wildly natural? i crave for that.

i'm tired. of many many things. of this fragile glittery superficial place most of all. it makes me shallow. it changes me. what if i don't recognise myself anymore if i stay here too long?

i think too goddamn much. and i speak my mind too goddamn much. i should just shut the fuck up sometimes.

i think i'm pms-ing. :(

The Learning

Wednesday, 03.10.2007. 0931 hours.

So here I am. This is where I stand. This is who I am. I've been stripped bare to the bones, and built back up again. I reckon I can safely say I've come a long way.

I've just accidentally realised it's been exactly 2 months since he's left, and many months since I've struggled to reach a conclusion.

There was the precipice, the plunge, the gorge, the walk among the dead and undead, the freeing of shackles, the climb back up to the living.

Now it's learning to live with the living once again.

I've come a long way. I'm learning still.

H2G2G

So long, and thanks for the fish. Thank you, especially, for leaving.

Bye, doll... it's been bittersweet.

hey you...

i'm sorry i couldn't meet you one last time before you go. and to have planned it so carefully so many times, only to have it busted.

there were so many things i wanted to say. so many things i wanted to ask you about, too. how you are, for one. what your plans are, for another.

guess we've both been so busy with life we didn't have time to meet up and catch up before you leave.

we've only known each other for awhile, but already it's been bittersweet. too many stories, things, secrets, shadows shared. and your leaving now, makes it even more so.

but the chance... it's once in a lifetime. it's everything you dreamed of. it could take you to places lemmings only see in postcards :) i suppose i'll live vicariously through you then. *hugs*

sighs. guess this is it, then. just want you to know i miss you already. and i'm gonna miss you a lot more. at the very least, you called :)

well, you know where to find me. i've always been here. always will be.

you got my addie now, too. let me know yours when you get there, and i'll send it to you.

you take care now. greatness becomes you yet :) yeah, i love you, too. i know i've never really said it in person, but i do. remember to write :) at least we have technology now.

hugs and kisses,
just me.