strange happenings and appetite

what do i want to say here today?

lots apparently, except there's just too much to pen down.

it's been terribly busy at work, and things seem to be falling apart at the seams.

saturday night/ sunday morning was just downright freaky. and the terror seemed so palpably real. feeling like i got paralysed from the waist down on sunday afternoon felt all the more frightening.

i'm left wondering: what the hell is going on? and i have absolutely no answers.

thank god for the moments in between of meeting up with some friends to cheer me up.

at least the wedding was fun. and it was good to see hilarious self-deprecating penangites again. that kinda humour is rather rare in this big bad city. the longer one stays here, it seems the crueler one's sense of humour... or one loses it altogether. being down to earth is part art and part science, apparently.

he dropped me a bomb too. apparently i'm supposed to cook come october. yes, anyone of u who reads this and knows who i'm talking about, feel free to abuse him if you see him. :P i'm panicking here!!!!! i haven't cooked properly in at least 2 years, since the older brother left for penang. and that dish is freaking tedious! gah!

over the past one week, i've been told i inhaled my food three times. and i was introduced to new people three times by the title i believe i'm gonna be stuck with for a long long time. comments made over the week over my appetite:

Sunday, after church, to a friend's niece's newest toyboy:
she vacuums her food up... watch her go.. go... goooo!!!!
Reaction of poor fella: *inches away slowly from me*

*sniffs... i ho hurts ar!*

Tuesday, after trekking up to an area i detest to help a friend haggle over prices cos she can't bloody bargain even if her life depended on it, and she was inclined to buy me dinner as a result... trust me, the foochow side of her was definitely cringing in pure horror just to make that offer.

Over dinner, after i begged to order the large plate cos i was so darn hungry, and i've gone through more than half of it, while she barely reached one-third of hers:
did you just fucking inhale your food?! *very loudly*

my reaction: O.O I'm HUNGRYYYY!!!!

Thursday, when the pipe-cleaner-soap-picker came back from some godforsaken corner of the universe and asked us out for yumchar... and i ordered a plate of nasi lemak cos it was 9pm and i haven't had dinner:
wahhhhh!!!!! you breathe in your food ar!!!!
in front of complete strangers to boot.... after making certain 18SX comments about what transpired when they picked me up.

my reaction: O.O I'm HUNGRRRRYYYYYY!!!!! NO, you're NOT touching my ikan bilis!!!! RAWR!!! (:P) and shut up already! i don't know these ppl!!!!

*sniffs* who needs enemies with friends like these?

Sunday, after meeting a bunch of CGL girls... for the first time, apart from long-haired Serani chick. the girls went out for a nicotine break, leaving just me, and two others at the table. the roasted chicken dish came, and it tasted bloody good... when they came back, the girl sitting next to me demanded:
did you finish the whole chicken by yourself?!

my reaction: *gulps* NO!! there! there's half a chicken there!

so you finished HALF a chicken by yourself?

my reaction: errrrr...... there's half a chicken for you stilll........

:P i think i got my appetite back..... aiyooo... c'mon.... i was on porridge and plain food for the past 3 weeks......

:D it's nice to get my appetite back.... AND FUCK YOU ALL LAAAA... SO I LOVE MY FOOD :P

Kate & Leopold: The Myth and The Rainbow

I watched Kate and Leopold again.

Now I need to go Clorox me bwains.

And it's bittersweet. Because life's like that.... without the fairytale ending.

Meg Ryan, is, as usual, the queen of romantic comedies.

Here however, is the funniest thing I remembered from the movie:

Roebling: Behold, rising before you, the greatest erection on the continent... the greatest erection of the age... the greatest erection on the planet!

:P

And this, is cool:
Roebling: Time. Time, it has been proposed, is the fourth dimension. And yet, for mortal man, time has no dimension at all. We are like horses with blinders, seeing only what lies before us. Forever guessing the future and fabricating the past.

But oh.. it's supposed to be romantic, so here is some mushymushy stuff:

On the sadness of The Myth:
Kate: I'm not very good with men.
Leopold: Perhaps you haven't found the right one.
Kate: Maybe. Or, uh... maybe that whole love thing is just a grown-up version of Santa Claus; just a myth we've been fed since childhood. So, we keep buying magazines, joining clubs, and doing therapy and watching movies with hit pop songs played over love montages all in a pathetic attempt to explain why our love Santa keeps getting caught in the chimney.

*sniffs sniffs* I can so identify.....

On finding The Rainbow:
Kate: And... it's a great thing to get what you want. It's a really good thing unless what you thought you wanted wasn't really what you wanted... because what you really wanted you couldn't imagine or you didn't think it was possible but what if someone came along who knew exactly what you wanted without asking- they just knew... like they could hear your heart beating or listen to your thoughts and what if they were sure of themselves and they didn't have to take a poll and they loved you... but you hesitated and I... uh... I have to go... I'm sorry but... I have to go!

Bah.... :P I need to go rest my eyes... after lusting after the very suave, very handsome, totally screwable, men-arent-made-like-this-anymore Hugh Jackman.

Lonely In Gorgeous

At twelve I run out
And kick the door
My glass shoe breaks
And my dress has ripped

You're disgusted, aren't you?
You don't even come after me
My tears overflow and I can't run anymore

This might be jealousy...it's sad...!!

"Lonely in Gorgeous" Yeah...
Party night...I'm Breaking my heart
I want you to find me right now and hold me tight

The headlights shine
...where are you Bad boy?
Wipe away my tears with the scarf of love
I can't see anything

I want to gather stardust
And throw it at you
Why do you even bother?
You only love yourself...

This might be a lost love...are you serious...?!

"Lonely in Gorgeous" Yeah...
Party time...I can't bury it
When you aren't here the world is empty

I want to see the next part of my dream
"I miss you Bad boy"
Don't lock me up inside excitement
I'll break

"Lonely in Gorgeous"
I'm Breaking my heart
Where are you Bad boy?
"Lonely in Party night"

"Lonely in Gorgeous"
I'm Breaking my heart
I miss you Bad boy
"Lonely in Party time"

"Lonely in Gorgeous" Yeah...
Party night...I can't smile
I don't need anything just be by my side

"Lonely in Gorgeous" Yeah...
Party night
I'm Breaking my heart
Inside of the box of excitement that you gave me
I hold on to my loneliness and I can't move
I don't need anything just be by my side
Kneel and look at me
And swear that you love me

Tommy February6's Lonely In Gorgeous, Paradise Kiss (English)

indecision

i know i can be flighty.

so many things i wanna say, but can't.

commitment. i know i've a phobia to that.

it stems from a certain fear of boredom. it stems from insecurity.

now, i've more or less made more commitments with my life.

except probably the hardest step i can ever take.

but the thing is: am i just a place to lay?

when i'm old and grey and fat, will i still have the allure?

it has a hold, that kinda intimacy, especially for you.

when i can no longer give you that, will you seek it elsewhere?

sure you might never really leave, but would you really be there?

or would you pull a Kennedy?

i need emotional security. i'd rather be alone than be unhappy or insecure.

and for you to ask for such a huge thing: would you be here when the going gets rough and tough? when things go sour, would you stay and work it through with me?

i'm tired of running, but i'm not sure walking's the right thing.


If you looking for a girl that’ll treat you right
If you lookin’ for her in the day time with the light

You might be the type if I play my cards right
I'll find out by the end of the night

You expect me to just let you hit it
But will you still respect me if you get it

All I can do is try, gimme one chance
What’s the problem I don’t see no ring on your hand
I'll be the first to admit it, I’m curious about you, you seem so innocent

You wanna get in my world, get lost in it
Boy I’m tired of running, lets walk for a minute

-Nelly Furtado's Promiscuous Girl-

ohmigod-what crap

i'll be honest.

i haven't been following the news lately. for the past two months, it's been work work work work work...

but the current repeat of the scenario first brought about a decade ago is making me wanna puke.

don't this lao tu kia's know that old MO's no longer work? especially when they've already lost so much support in march.

for fuck's sakes... these are deeply personal attacks now.

and if, a decade ago, people would take to the streets against a big man who hold's about 90% power.... what is a little frail man who is barely teetering on the edge of power thinking of using the same old rules now?

seriously... i really do think we should be kicking these old rats out. it's time we left them to the vultures. let's see what happens when they try a dose of their own medicine.

and to think i had a dream of this last week. >.<

Mortality

A friend of mine from Form 6 passed away last Friday. I was texted this morning that his body will be flown back to hometown today.

Imagine my shock waking up first thing in the morning to a text like that.

I have fond memories of my days in Form 6. Granted, academically, I could have done so much better because I was technically rebelling in my own way, but I had some of the best moments of my life then. Thanks to people like CHH.

He was, by the standards of the time, a rich boy. Not filthy rich like we were accustomed to, coming from one of the elitist 'public-aided' schools, but he was rich. Drove a sports car to school. But if one spoke to him, he had no pretenses of the rich, and was a very nice guy, albeit in the typically Hokkien ah beng guy way.

We were both in the Interact club committee together, and after meetings the entire committee would head off for drinks and snacks before going home. (And drinks and snacks also include at least an hour at the nearest cybercafe playing CS :P) And since I didn't have a car, on some days he'd be the one dropping me off as he lived closer to I did than the other guys. So we'd get in and he'd tell me to strap up because he was going to be speeding. And he did. Hitting above 100kmh regularly. Which by hometown standards was crazy because people there drive at an average of 40-80 kmh tops. 80kmh was FAST.

But hey, he had a sports car and he was a very good driver, so I just sat back and watched the trees and houses and shops swoosh past me as we cracked jokes in the car. Then when he had a girlfriend and we'd troop off into the car together, she'd yell at him for driving so fast at times.

He was a nice guy. Ever generous, ever friendly and ever ready to lend a hand. I suppose it's no surprise that he went off to another state to help his father in his business after he had worked on his own for many years and he passed away doing so. It's just so sad that he left this world so early. He was in the prime of his life and had so much more to look forward to. To pass away in some freak trucking accident from internal injuries incurred during such an accident seems like such a waste and I'm deeply saddened to hear of this, even though we haven't really kept in touch for years.

And here we all are, in our twenties, working our asses off at our respective jobs, thinking, in a way, we're immortal. Thinking there's the promotion and the promotion after that, and marriage and children, and old age to look forward to. Thinking we're gonna live forever. Until a friend passes away. When we thought we would live forever. And it's a slap in the face.

Life goes on, as always. Once the dust is settled on the grave.

But memories linger. And those memories live in the hearts of friends who remembers a life well-lived.

Life is meant to be well-lived. There's more to it than that job, and that house, and that million bucks in the bank. Who's gonna enjoy all that if one dies at 30?

Write a will. Live life to the fullest. Learn from mistakes and regret nothing. Love like there's no tomorrow. Hope like we'll live forever.

Here's to CHH: I hope you have no regrets. Rest in peace. We'll remember you fondly.

the post on verk-full time shit cleaner, part time ******-er.

forewarned is forearmed.

I AM GOING TO BITCH.

there's been wayyyy too much things to bitch about of late, but i just hadn't had the time to.

so tonight, i will just bitch about work.

close friends would know i've got a new job. same line. bigger company. and yeah, i can see myself working here for awhile despite the heavy workload, and considering it's a bigger company, the chances for shitty office politics would be exponential to the size of the company. that's the formula that every fresh grad should've been armed with after leaving university.

but when i went for the interview, i took the offer because:

1. i could feel the winds of change starting to sweep the company. with some tenacity, i would be able to ride that wave. it was the same feeling i had in january 2008 even before the old company ran one of their infamous surveys.

2. this year would be MY year. FUCK EVERYTHING ELSE. if i KNOW i can, i WILL. i can't keep rolling around in life being unsure of who i am and what i want.

3. i happen to LIKE this work. it stresses me out, but it also makes me feel vital and alive.

4. i've had really sucky bosses. remember the one who was sexually frustrated and deprived? yep. too bad he paid my wages. i'd have ground him to smithereens otherwise. the things i said to people i used to date... i swear you don't wanna know. i've also had crazy insecure supervisors. it totally kills whatever motivation and/or passion and/or creativity you have. but at the interview, i sensed that this director may throw me over the deep end and just watch while i sink or swim, and would never take the initiative to guide me, but she would if i asked for help. and she would never hamper my desire for growth. and that's how i work best. and this is one of the main reasons i took this job.

5. for some strange reason.... good things come to me when i least expect it. or look for it. so from what i've gone through... i've learnt to trust the cosmic powers that push things into my lap, and never shoot the goose (that bore the egg) or look a gift horse in the mouth.


so what is it i wanna bitch about? yeah, office politics. surprise surprise.... thank god this is a colleague, and not a boss. if it were a superior, i'd pack my bags and leave. no point staying at a dead-end job.

this is WAR.

what did she do to piss me off majorly?

1. manage a project terribly, and steal me when i'm not brought in for her job.

2. throw a shitty project in my lap halfway through without a proper briefing and expect me to clean up shit.

3. never really answers questions on HER job when i ask her for explanations (remember i was barely briefed, and do not have all the materials) but sends me a really lovely email instead.

4. doesn't provide full information on what needs to be done, and expects me to take the fire on her behalf from the boss and the client on HER incompetency.

5. bitches about me behind my back when the boss tells her off about how badly she handled the project

6. bitches to everyone behind my back when i was complimented for cleaning up her shit well and was rewarded for it.

7. ignores me completely unless it's to do with work ever since.

seriously, i'm obsessive-compulsive, takes pride in what i do because i hardly have a life, and i consider my work an extension of myself, and yes, in some things, i'm a downright perfectionist. so what was she expecting... for me to screw up big time? just cos i'm new and entered a junior in comparison, doesn't mean i've never worked before and would allow myself to be pushed around.

oh yes, i keep quiet and don't say anything. but that's only because i'm no fool. never reveal all your cards until you've found out enough to know which card to pull for whom. fuck you if you think i'm sneaky. i've learnt this lesson the VERY hard way. life has thrown me too many curveballs for me to not take life's lessons seriously.

i may be a hard-head, but i ain't no fool.

i'm no apple-polisher, either, and right now, i just zone out when she starts being nasty... but i have a temper, a nasty one at that, and when i lose it, you won't want to be even a spectator. besides, the director didn't get to be a director by being an idiot. she knows who works and who doesn't.

so i'll just bide my time and wait for karma to come around on my behalf.

**

on another note, i really miss my old friends. we had a mini chat room the other day over messenger. and damn, how far we've come. how far more we have to go. and how the same roots still bind us.

i miss you girls. singapore, sarawak, japan, london, america. there is no glass ceiling. the only limitations we would ever have are the ones we impose on ourselves. we can go anywhere and do anything and reach any height if we wanted it badly enough. we are great like that :) we're fine wine. the real deal. we were gutsy girls and now we're gutsy women.

cheers! 10 years out of school. we did pretty well for ourselves :)

I don't know you
But I want you
All the more for that
Words fall through me
And always fool me
And I can't react
And games that never amount
To more than they're meant
Will play themselves out

Take this sinking boat and point it home
We've still got time
Raise your hopeful voice you have a choice
You've made it now

Falling slowly, eyes that know me
And I can't go back
Moods that take me and erase me
And I'm painted black
You have suffered enough
And warred with yourself
It's time that you won

Take this sinking boat and point it home
We've still got time
Raise your hopeful voice you had a choice
You've made it now

Take this sinking boat and point it home
We've still got time
Raise your hopeful voice you had a choice
You've made it now
Falling slowly sing your melody
I'll sing along

-Falling Slowly, Glen Hansard, Marketa Irglova-

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.

Pages

It's like I'm living a novel.

Within one page, there's an emotional high and an emotional low in the next paragraph itself.

It makes you go: wtf just happened?

Do I know? No.

I wonder why, somedays, myself. Why am I doing this? Why go to such trouble?

There goes my zen-ness.

Then I remember why. I wanna feel.

So I ask you: Don't you wanna feel too?

Embracing, the thought of tasting,
My mind's elaborate my heart is racing.
I'm waiting to escape in,
A strange reality a page I wanna paste in.
Why don't you hold my hand?

Don't you wanna feel what I wanna feel baby?
La la la la la la la
Don't you wanna feel, what I wanna feel?
Don't you wanna feel what I wanna feel baby?
La la la la la la la
Don't you wanna feel, what I wanna feel?
What I wanna, what I wanna feel, feel!

Surrender, I won't defend ya,
Translation overload return to sender.
Are you mistaken, I won't be taken,
I really want it but I promise I'm not fakin'!
Why don't you hold my hand?

Don't you wanna feel what I wanna feel baby?
La la la la la la la
Don't you wanna feel, what I wanna feel?
Don't you wanna feel what I wanna feel baby?
La la la la la la la
Don't you wanna feel, what I wanna feel?
What I wanna feel, what I wanna feel!

Feel, feel, feel.
Feel, feel, feel.
I really wanna, don't, don't you wanna?
Feel, feel, feel.
I really wanna, don't, don't you wanna?

Don't you wanna feel what I wanna feel baby?
La la la la la la la
Don't you wanna feel, what I wanna feel?
Don't you wanna feel, what I wanna feel baby?
La la la la la la la
Don't you wanna feel, what I wanna feel?
I think I wanna, don't you wanna, uh-huh, yeah yeah!

-Rogue Traders-Don't You Wanna Feel-

Aging and Strange Things

I was about to write: I'm turning 27 on Monday, but I ended up typing 25 instead :P
So what does that tell u, eh? :P

Well, anyway, I digress. I mean to say, I'm turning 27 on Monday. And last night, as I was talking to a friend I've not chatted with in a LONG LONG LONG time due to both of our schedules, I noticed how the topic has changed. Instead of: 'So how is everyone? Any gossip on who's hooking up with who?' it was 'So who is getting engaged/married?'

Eeekkkkssss.... don't get me wrong, I wish the happy couples all the best and all. But but but... the very topic kinda gives me the hives.... I'm allergic. Kinda. See, it's not like I don't wanna get married, it's just that... the idea just seems kinda far away.

And it just seemed to underscore the fact that... and yes, it IS a FACT as I was telling his friend: MY OVARIES ARE FERMENTING :(

Like I said: Well, unlike the sperm, which is constantly reproduced and replenished, my eggs have been there since embryonic stage, and I KNOW it's AGING... I'm wasting good quality eggs and all.... but but... I'm just a little reluctant at the moment to give in to the maternal urges.

I know it's a little selfish, but, there's yet so much to see, and babies.... changes everything. So does getting hitched.

Yes, I'm more than just a little commitaphobic. Yes, it's a strange confession coming from someone who owns a cunt. Yes, in a way... I AM a cunt. Sighs. See, I just feel that I need to get my life a little more in order.

I need a job I can see myself doing.
or
I need to have a disposable income.
or
I need a disposable nest egg.

THEN I'll be ready to procreate.
and spawn little me-s.... :P

When the time comes, be afraid. Be very afraid.

Why? The following post will illustrate this to the max :P:P:P

**

Here I am... and there's a temple performance outside. Well, it's been there for the past 2 days, ever since I got my bitchy ass over here.

What's my problem with it?

I mean, ok, you wanna have a revelry session, but OMFG it's SO FUCKING LOUD. And SO FUCKING LOUSY. Simon Cowell would die and flip and cringe in his grave!

There's a singing dancing session outside weiiii...... Here are my points:
1. It's fucking LOUD. Okay la, if it's good. It ISN'T.
2. Okay la, if it ISN'T good, if the chicks performing were decent. They AREN'T.
3. Okay la, if they AREN'T, if they're HOT. They're NOT. NOT. NOT. NOT.

It's a temple thing, for fucks' sakes..... The way they're dressed.... It's illegal weiii.... I'd be forgiven if I thought they were TEMPLE WHORES.

HELLO??? I remember commenting about how I walk in coffee shops in shorts and baby tees and get stared at by lascivious old men who'd tell their very daughters that getting dressed like that is asking for rape, with my girlfriends before. BIGOTS. But they have NO QUALMS at staring at nubile young things and grinning lasciviously.

Well, these laohiaos are staring and dancing at the nubile young things dressing themselves up like harem girls dancing for a balding pot-bellied old king, dancing lasciviously in sequined bra and panty set thingies baring their mid-riffs from bust-line to hip-line with matching fashion disaster boots and flimsy transparent scarves or feathers draped around their hips at a TEMPLE event.

Tell me that is just so-not-wrong.

If it were a strip club, I'm cool with it. Hell, if it were a CLUB, I'm cool with it. But this! TEMPLE event! In public! With little kids looking on and thinking it's cool, or it's okay to get whistled at/to whistle at underaged girls dressed like whores. Aiyaiyai.... Wrong la. Just wrong.

It's just that... it's just plain bigotry. Fullstop. Double standards. And please, what are we trying to tell people here?

sick

fainted. crapped my pants when i was out. in public. sighs....

psycho says there's never a dull moment with me. but but.... i would, honestly, rather stay in the background most days.

especially that day.

guess it was a culmination of many many bad things. and some highstringing ones.

Random Tortoise Question

A totally random question on a Sunday night:

I wonder:

If a tortoise somehow fell on it's back, with it's feet in the air, if no one turns it back on its feet, would it die of starvation? How would it be able to get back on its feet?

Vindaloo Curry

In one of House's episodes, House's ex-wife described their relationship as vindaloo curry. Spicy, flavourful, exciting, so hot. And you go on eating because it tastes so good until it burns. And then you never want to even look at curry again. Until one day, you wake up, and you just want vindaloo curry so bad.

I wonder if sometimes we're just drawn to people like that. So different in many fundamental ways, and would never come together if not for being drawn that way. And despite both parties' best efforts and good intentions, sometimes it's just best to leave the curry alone.

Because curry will be curry. Curry will never change. If it's watered down, it's not curry anymore.

Digital Love

he hides behind binaries,
copper wires for the win,
makes a place for secret identities,
alternate universe that's unseen.

secret names and secret faces,
alterego to hide behind,
takes him to secret places,
which reality cannot find.

gives him a different mien,
digital caresses in an unkind world,
while reality is a fiend,
virtual lets his confidence unfurl.

lost in a sea of zeros and ones,
happy in a world of make-believe,
careless to the love that would bear him sons,
sending her keeling off a cliff.

she's lost in a world progressively grey,
lost sight of the world she so loves,
a world of sunshine, bright and gay,
with a man she could hold and love.

she's lost in a world that blurs right from wrong,
lost sight of what is true,
he brings the past tense into present form,
makes her take more than she can chew.

she's battle weary, oh is it worth the fight?
one step away from cutting ties,
her heart is heavy, her chest is tight,
she's tired of the little white lies.

Milk

Milk: you can do so much with it. As a drink for the most basic nutrients. Cultured milk. In another drink, eg. tea or coffee. Yoghurt. Cheese. In cooking. Ice-cream that makes people happy. And etcetera, etcetera. All the potential.

Yet once it's tainted there's not much use for it except down the drain. Once it's spilt, there's nothing else to do with it. Wasted potential.

Spilt milk. What's there to do with spilt milk?

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.

A Healthy Dose of Skepticism

i know this is old... but this is just a reminder of what could have been.

and also, to remind the new government of their promises to the people. call me jaded, but when it comes to politics, i believe in a healthy dose of skepticism :P

so now, let's see if we can trust the new government of 5 states just that little bit more :)

Life's many contradictions

people ask me: do you look forward to your trip, and my mind comes up blank. because honestly, i'm more worried about the job than anything else. and i think i would only get excited about trips after i've settled jobs.

guess i work that way: i don't particularly like surprises. i normally like to know what i'm pitting myself up against. yes, i'd take risks. but only if i can gauge the odds. and definitely not when it comes to anything of great importance in my life. and only when i'm prepared.

see, i'm like this mule. i look docile, but try to get me to do something i don't want, and u're up against a granite brick. shove, pull, yank, cajole, i won't move a muscle. might as well have been planted, no, ROOTED there.

yes, i'm worried. it's new. and i think i'm comfort eating. :(

****

i miss staying up late and hearing myself. i've so many things i wanna write, but which i've put off to oblivion cos: a) i fell asleep. b) i was unmotivated because my computer is really too slow to run more than 2 apps at one time. c) some things are kinda private, and i'm not sure if it would be wise putting things here.

i guess this poem i memorised when i was 13 would probably sum things up cryptically enough. not sure i remember ALL of it, in it's entirety, or whether the arrangement is quite right. no matter. i think it brings it's point across well enough:

what is this life if, full of care,
we have no time to stand and stare?

no time to stand beneath the boughs,
and stare as long as sheep and cows.

no time to see when woods we pass,
where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.

no time to see, in broad daylight,
streams full of stars, like skies at night.

no time to turn at Beauty's glance,
and watch her feet, how they can dance.

no time to wait, till her mouth can,
enrich that smile her eyes began?

a poor life, this, if full of care,
we have no time to stand and stare.

i can't quite remember what the title is, but i think it's by a w.h. davis.

sometimes, a person can be around, but not THERE, if you know what i mean. like i'm looking at you, but not seeing you. i'm listening to you, but not hearing you. or i'm sleeping with you, but not loving you. like existing, but not living. like buying things, but never using them. like coming to work everyday, but never feeling motivated. like the earth can collapse at your feet today, and all you are going to feel is relief.

life has little meaning, lived that way. there's got to be more to life than just that.

The Post-Mortem... Free of Charge from a Mere Slip of a Weak Female Mind

In every report I've made for you, 1 important issue stands out:

The prices of goods have increased, aka inflation.

Do we need a post-mortem? These reports were done before the elections. Obviously, all that hanky-panky with the housekeeper puts the chief to sleep during the day....

The people do not need flashy adverts during every tv or radio commercial, or in bright-fluorescent lit billboards at every lrt station, or full-page adverts in major dailies to KNOW that although there's been growth in this country, the people are not getting any of it. There's economic growth... and yet there's major inflation. [Which begs to ask, by the way, how much of good, hardworking, taxpayers' money did you spend on campaigning this year? I demand a breakdown of your budget.]

Selamat. Aman. Makmur. I beg to differ, and here are my arguments, based on each propagandic word.

Selamat: Where is it? People get brutally murdered... bombed up to smithereens... but we hardly see justice being done. In the last 5 years... horrible crimes has been committed, especially to women [want me to name names? Here are the few high-profile ones: Canny Ong (in Bangsar Shopping Complex), Normala Samsuddin (in Desa Sri Hartamas) and most recently, Altantuya Sharibuu (in the air we breathe in everyday, cos the poor woman was combusted into dust particles)], and yet, despite our constitution being amended a mind-boggling 690 times (that's close to 700, mind you) in a mere 50 years of independence, RAPE laws in this country has difficulty getting passed. 50 years and counting. No, as a mere slip of a woman, I definitely do NOT feel SELAMAT here... especially when just mere weeks before the election, rempit snatchthieves grabbed my bag in broad daylight in a public area.

Aman: What's so aman about this? In 4 years, my personal experience was having my bag grabbed by rempit snatchthieves in major commercial public areas 2 times. That's averaging once every 2 years. And the one fucking the duyung on the side wants to absorb these people who refuse to work but steal from the weak into an alternative police force? Letting them take the law into their own hands literally. No. I don't feel AMAN either.

Makmur: Ahhhh..... rising prices of petrol and toll.... leading to rising prices of goods everywhere..... 'nuff said. Mana keMAKMURannya?

The tagline falls short of its' promises. Is it any wonder discerning people choose otherwise? It's been clear from the start. If you choose NOT to see and listen and understand it, then you do NOT deserve the people's mandate.