Doubt as an Element of Faith

I remember talking to a friend in California who had lost touch with his faith in 2007. I remember him telling me about how he doesn't believe in his religion anymore. Although, when he was a lot younger, he used to be almost fanatical about Catholicism. 

I remember, how, as a child, I attended church camps, and one of the visiting priests had, during one Q&A session about our faith, discuss the mysteries of the church, and encouraged us to keep questioning ourselves, because that is the only way to lead us to the truth. It keeps us from getting complacent about our faith. And to avoid taking it for granted.

I remember how, at 16, my father insisted I tutored under a good old La Sallian brother, and how he had encouraged my writing, and allowed me to borrow from his personal library for free, with only one condition, to return them once I was done. And how, he too, indirectly, had encouraged me to learn by questioning.

WHY. Out of the 4W1H, it is the most important question. What Where When Why How. Why is always the most difficult to answer. Yet the most important. Because as what I had learnt from Psychology and Sociology in university, what motivates people is always the most elusive, and the most difficult to understand.

It requires you to get into the person's head, and into the person's shoes, and attempt walking a thousand steps in his shoes to attempt to glean even the most little understanding of what motivates him. And that is usually the most incomprehensible of all. People, in general, hate someone else questioning their motives. Common questions would be:

1. Don't you trust me?

2. Why must you know?

3. Isn't faith enough?

4. Why do you doubt me so?

5. Have a little faith in me, will you?

What most people fail to understand is that trying to find out the motivations of another person is always more painful than accepting the person at face value. It takes more effort. More tears. Because it means delving deeper than what is at the surface, than what is comfortable. What is readily shown to the rest of the world. People generally shy away from what appear to be painful or difficult, and uncomfortable, especially in today's era of self-gratification. No one wants to look like the bad guy.

It is always easier to accept when a person says: I'm like this. I'm just always bad-tempered. 

It's easier to accept that response and just stay at arm's length.

It's harder to ask: 'Why is he bad-tempered?' And to attempt finding out why and risking losing the person's friendship/ risking being yelled at/ etc.

Only if one perseveres, does a person find out that: Oh, he has an illness. He is constantly haemorrhaging. It leaves him tired and ill-tempered all the time. He needs help. He needs understanding.

It just goes to show how the extra effort that was being made can help spur understanding and forge a deeper relationship. How a little doubt can become an element of a deeper faith. The faith being the general goodness of people. That normally people do have a good reason when they're upset.

And yes, the above was a true example.

Like religion, accepting the general misconception that Catholics worship the Mother Mary, could have stopped me from finding out and having a deeper faith. And that doubt in said worship spurred me on to discover that it was not a worship, but a respect for her that started the Hail Marys. That the prayer was not one of worship, but of intercession. It meant: Intercede for me in my prayer to your Son. Help me bring my message to your Son, and to His Holy Father.

I don't claim to know everything about my religion. I'm just a baby in that aspect. But learning through questioning my faith, is a good start to keep me from being lazy.

Like every other aspects of my life, the question WHY has spurred me to greater heights than every other question. Where, When, What, How is easily deduced from most scenarios. But the question WHY is what has spearheaded all the greatest inventions and discoveries of our time.

The greatest example perhaps being: Why does the apple fall straight to the ground from the tree? The discovery of Gravity by Sir Isaac Newton. Which spearheaded many many other great scientific discoveries of the 20th and 21st century. Including space exploration.

The question WHY is what opens up our minds to the bigger possibilities out there. Keeps us from being a lazy bum and generally accepting our lot in life. It spurred the Enlightenment and the Renaissance movement. It started many a Revolution all around the world. It got us out of the Dark Ages.

WHY. I was raised to question. I was trained to ask the question. As a child born to science teachers. As a trained microbiologist and partially trained sonographer. WHY was the most important question.

The cells are not growing. WHY.

The child in the womb has a collapsed lung. WHY.

The question WHY can save relationships and, on an even more important scale, save lives. It's a question I cannot ignore, even if someone close to me dislikes the question the most.

WHY should not be a question that is feared. But one that is respected and cherished as a means to enhance our relationships and our lives. Whether that be our relationship with our parents, our siblings, our friends, our loved ones, our colleagues, nature, or even God. 

It enriches us. Challenges us to be better people. Humbles us as we question OUR OWN motivations. Spurs us to greater heights. Holds us to the ground as much as it exalts us to the sky. Keeps us open to other possibilities. Retains our enthusiasm for the people around us and for life itself.

As President Barack Obama puts it in his speech at Notre Dame: But remember too that the ultimate irony of faith is that it necessarily admits doubt. This doubt should not push us away from our faith. But it should humble us. It should temper our passions, and cause us to be wary of self-righteousness. It should compel us to remain open, and curious, and eager.

His speech was widely touted as one that redefined faith. Yet he wasn't the first man that had tried to tell the world this small kernel of wisdom. The priest at that church camp almost 15 years ago had said the same in less rhetoric terms. So did the good old La Sallian brother. So did Martin Luther, which sparked the revolution in the Catholic church, and sparked the Lutheran/ Presbysterian faith. It's one that wise men over the ages had tried to instill in a stubborn humanity.

But perhaps the radical young President's were the most rhetoric (as he is famous for), the most radical (for a country as secretly conservative, traditionalist, egotistical, selfish and narrow-minded as the United States of America) and the most unexpected. It was also perhaps, the most widely aired, and the most far-reaching, as most of the world is still running on the fever that is Obamamania. That may not be a bad thing. The young President may be shrewd and wise enough to utilise his high publicity to try and give the world a new perspective on the relationship between doubt and faith. And the great importance of the word WHY.

It may be what the US of A, and the rest of the world needs after all. Redefining Faith. Understanding the importance of the word WHY. Perhaps we would all start asking ourselves the most important question of all.

1. Why am I afraid?

2. Why am I behaving this way?

3. Why do I feel this way?

4. Why am I at this job?

5. Why am I with this person?

6. Why am I in this country?

7. Why am I limitting myself?

8. Why are we waging a war on terror?

9. Why do we call this the World Cup when it's only USA?

10. Why are we still polluting the earth?

and so it goes.

Doubt as an element of faith.... WHY do you think I am always questioning myself? And you?

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.

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.

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

early morning breaking news

i reached work today, and the first thing i saw while waiting for the lift:

the news:
"Make more babies, Chinese told."

The Chinese are told to have more children to increase the dwindling population.

My reaction: O.O
Then: -.-
Then: >:(

Of course, I probably didn't remember that verbatim, but I definitely got the essence of it.

Now I'm not sure which moron politician (yep, don't have much respect for politicians, especially local ones. there's in fact a book on the 'fantastic things' local politicians say, costs about RM20 from Kino, btw) said that, but I wanna shoot out the person's nads.

to explain my reactions:

O.O: WHICH IDIOT WOULD SAY THAT?
-.-: WHY would anyone say that? our population is increasing every year. (overall pop. that is, some ppl beranak twice a year and have like 9-15 kids in one family. wat.... i'm not kidding, i've seen it. just recently, too.)
>:(: and WHO is gonna pay for the cost of bringing up scads of babies?!

i'm in my mid-twenties. i have a relatively stable job. it pays, well, enough. but i have NO intention of having babies at least in the next 3-5 years. 'cos i don't think i can AFFORD to bring up one in the manner or fashion or lifestyle (whichever ur poison) i'd like he/she to be accustomed too. and i'm still striving for MY own personal satisfaction. i still want my freedom. my independence. having babies is A LOTTA HARD WORK. and personal sacrifice. yep. i love babies. it's a mutual fascination, babies and i. i'd love to have one when i'm ready. operative word here: READY. but i've got both my feet planted on terra firma. babies are expensive. babies require constant supervision. babies take up a lot of time and effort.

having babies is difficult. and a full-time job. so why don't that smart-aleck go have 10 babies of his/her own, then. memandai-mandai. let's see if said genius would still be singing the same tune after baby no. 10. (yep, by then, he/she woulda forgotten the names. like chinese families of old. tua hia, ji hia, sa hia, and so on and so forth. malay families, too, no? along, angah, adik. i don't speak tamilian, so i wouldn't know about indian families. but i'm sure they have their equivalent.)

and it doesn't help that being, well, chinese, i'm considered unimportant, and overlooked by the local governance. if my grades in school were given the opportunity it should've been given, well, i wouldn't be here now. but let's not talk about me. my point is that, if i'm gonna be having babies, i want them to have a better life than i do. not that my life is bad, mind, but it could be better. i would want them to have choices i never had. i understand my parents POV in pushing me to extremes academically. they think academia could get me farther than anything else could. i'm not sure they're right, but i understand it, at least. it's that same desire that i have for future children. a better state of living.

there's a reason chinese people have relatively small families. one, two, three kids. cap it. it's a matter of quality, not quantity. household income of appox. RM70K-RM80K per annum, both parents working, children to put through school with a quality education, inclusive of at least a bachelor's degree in mind. all with the parent's own savings. just in case. don't depend on someone else. how to afford having 5 children? have you seen how expensive baby formula can be? or babies' clothing? one of those little things can buy me 3 tops at least.

yeah, i know what you're gonna say... OMG U THINK THAT FAR? yes, i do. gotta plan for the future, innit?

ok, fine. cos since i hit 18, i don't have much faith in men, and i considered being a single mother. as in, go for sperm donation, either in stick or bottle form. :P

cos i wanna be mommy, not necessarily wifey. meaning, i can envision myself a mother, but trouble envisioning myself a wife.

so i was planning on being a mother (man optional) and i wondered how long it would take to build up my fortune before i can afford to bring up a child comfortably on my own. that's how i thought that far. :P

i really wish people in positions of power would stop making comments without thinking. what they say will be put in print. and seen the world over. saying things like: 'Apa bising pasal bocor-bocor ni? MP Batu Gajah pun bocor tiap-tiap bulan' is downright CRASS la. seriously.

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. :(

My Beliefs

recent London bombscares.
the trial concerning the murder of Altantuya Sharibuu.

death everywhere.

and yet I believe that with death comes new life.

things must die, so that other things may live.

i've always wanted the tattoo of a phoenix rising from the ashes on my right shoulder blade for precisely this reason.

in chinese mythology, the phoenix is a symbol of strength, and feminine mysticism.

and in other cultures, the phoenix must die and turn to ashes, for it to be reborn.

death, and rebirth. one must die, for another to take it's place.

that is the way of the universe.

but because of such random violence and senseless death, i'm also a person who believes in seizing one's own destiny.

i believe in creating my own future, because it's the only thing i CAN change.

i can't change my past, it's who i am.

but changing my present, would mean changing my future, and determining who i BECOME.

when it comes to LIFE ITSELF, we all have a choice.

it is when it comes to DEATH, that it is up to fate.

we can't control when we die, and how we die.

all we know is that we'll die alone.

death is so unpredictable.

but life is so beautiful.

why live in misery, when we can learn from it, and be happy?

IMHO, the DUMBEREST statement ever.

Wednesday. 13.06.2007. 2331 hours.

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

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

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

A huge bulk of it comes from my brother.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now here's the statement:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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