Quarter life crisis

I've been self-reflecting...

I think I've hit a quarter-life crisis....

And I really don't know where I want to be 3 years from now...

I can't even identify whether I can't stand my work, or the lack of work-life balance it offers me... I just know I don't want to be doing this in 5 years time... working on weekends.. waking up at odd hours in the night to call some incompetent fool half the world away.. working till 11pm and considering that 'normal'.

I chose to come here, so why complain? I'm not... I'm just getting really tired... I feel myself burning out. I'm not as young as I used to be, and reality bites :(

So I'm doing all these personality tests to help me figure out what suits my personality best.

INFJ. Christ, that didn't help... It's telling me I'm complex and internally confused. SIGH....

Perhaps I'm getting impatient. Bloody hell, almost 3 decades on earth... shouldn't my life be moving in a certain stable direction by now? Why do I still feel soooo..... unsettled???

God help me, I think I've hit a low point... yet again.... Seeing a financial advisor just made me feel a whole lot older. So many responsibilities, so little time to work them out.

It's as if the sands of time are running out on me.

Need to figure myself out. And pronto.

Growing up is hard to do. Really :(

Borrowed reflections of a tired mind

It's been forever. I know. But I've barely had time to shop in this shopping haven for necessary goods, much less blog.

But things have been bittersweet. And perhaps, in life, I can't really ask for more than that.

It's Independence Day back home. Wonder if anyone there ever reflects on life's lessons, but anyhow, here's a good article written by a wise man. I couldn't have said it any better.

I've learned....

I've learned that you cannot make someone love you.

All you can do is be someone who can be loved.

The rest is up to them.

I've learned that no matter how much I care,

some people just don't care back.

I've learned that it takes years to build up trust

and only seconds to destroy it.

I've learned that it's not what you have in your life,

but who you have in your life that counts.

I've learned that you can get by on charm for about fifteen minutes.

After that, you'd better know something.

I've learned that you shouldn't compare yourself

to the best others can do,

but to the best you can do.

I've learned that it's not what happens to people,

It's what they do about it.

I've learned that no matter how thin you slice it,

there are always two sides.

I've learned that you should always leave loved ones with loving words.

It may be the last time you'll see them.

I've learned that you can keep going,

long after you think you can't.

I've learned that heroes are the people who do what has to be done

when it needs to be done,

regardless of the consequences.

I've learned that there are people who love you dearly,

but just don't know how to show it.

I've learned that sometimes when I'm angry I have the right to be angry,

but that doesn't give me the right to be cruel.

I've learned that true friendship continues to grow even over the longest distance.

Same goes for true love.

I've learned that just because someone doesn't love you the way you want them to

doesn't mean they don't love you with all they have.

I've learned that no matter how good a friend is,

they're going to hurt you every once in a while

and you must forgive them for that.

I've learned that it isn't always enough to be forgiven by others.

Sometimes you have to learn to forgive yourself.

I've learned that no matter how bad your heart is broken,

the world doesn't stop for your grief.

I've learned that our background and circumstances

may have influenced who we are,

but we are responsible for who we become.

I've learned that just because two people argue,

it doesn't mean they don't love each other.

And just because they don't argue,

it doesn't mean they do.

I've learned that sometimes you have to put the individual

ahead of their actions.

I've learned that two people can look at the exact same thing

and see something totally different.

I've learned that no matter the consequences,

those who are honest with themselves go farther in life.

I've learned that your life can be changed in a matter of hours

by people who don't even know you.

I've learned that even when you think you have no more to give,

when a friend cries out to you,

you will find the strength to help.

I've learned that writing,

as well as talking,

can ease emotional pains.

I've learned that the people you care most about in life

are taken from you too soon.

I've learned that it's hard to determine where to draw the line

between being nice and not hurting people's feelings

and standing up for what you believe.

I've learned to love

and be loved.

I've learned...

~Omer Washington~

An Open Letter to that Someone in his life

Hi...

Right now I'm a stranger to you. I wonder if you know about me, just as I do about you. I'm quite certain you do. We have common friends after all. And much as we would like to avoid it, there's always a chance we might end up meeting each other. Whether we like it or not, the world's not that big a place at all. Not enough to completely disappear in forever.

I wonder too, if I should smoke you out. As I know you have questions about me, as much as I do about you.

I know you decided one day, perhaps around the middle of the year, to leave his ghost behind you. I can identify. I've tried doing that to others before him too.

I know there was a point in his life you held on to him most dearly, hoping he'd return your affections, finding it painfully difficult to let go, and never completely doing so, although you knew that it was best for your sanity to do so. I also know that although he tried letting you walk away, it's in his nature to let the world know he feels pain, and because he loves the adulation, it's hard for him to let any female just walk away. Takes nerves of steel and a lot of heart-hardening for a female to do so. Even perhaps ripping a part of your heart out and leaving it behind just so you can find the anger and pain to give you the courage to go. And perhaps you have finally, after so many years, grew the nerves to do so.

I can identify. Perhaps, not fully understand, but identify somewhat. After all, it took me 6 long years to finally put my foolish unrequited love behind me.

Like you, I had fooled myself into believing he loved me. Although it was perhaps merely emotional and physical attraction on his part, and a lot of affection, but nothing more. Like you, I should have perhaps not allowed him to cajole me into crossing a line I had set for myself. Like you, I had fallen victim to my passions, and perhaps, youthful images of romance which, like you, I had tried so hard to hold back and repress.

We were both young and foolish once. We both have had our hearts broken by men we had put our energies and time in, and pinned our hopes and dreams on. We both had a certain image of happiness crumble to dust at our feet, and we have had ourselves to blame while we tried picking them up and trying our darnedest to put them back together, knowing it would be forever scarred and forever changed. We have both grown up much from those days. We have both had our fair share of pain.

So forgive me for intruding into the calm you've tried so hard to find for yourself. I know you've abandoned your thoughts at one place. But those used to writing and needing a space to confide in, no matter if no one knows of it would always return to writing, albeit someplace else. I know that after going from place to place, and abandoning your thoughts here and there, and after trying to cut him out of your life altogether now, you've made a mini-comeback elsewhere. I'm also aware that you'd rather he not know where it is. And I can understand and respect that.

I wonder if I should send this your way. I apologise if this is unwelcome or uncomfortable. But because both he and I would both be moving in new directions, and like you, I'd like to lay some ghosts to rest, myself. Unfortunately, because I know of your relationship with him, although he didn't know to what extent my intuition allowed me insights into the situation, even when he and I were together, you're one of those ghosts. And my intuition also tells me due to his penchant to attempt to keep his secrets close to his chest, because firstly, he forgets, and secondly, in his own warped way, he believes he's shielding me from the harm of knowing too many of his demons, and thirdly, he knows that if I know too many things, I will distrust him. He believes I'm paranoid. And he's right. To a certain extent.

I trust no one. Not even myself. 'Myself' has led me into many a trouble more than once. The only thing I trust are things that are intangible. Like intuition. It's saved my hide many times. Like karma. What goes around comes around. I've seen that happen often enough, and I'm glad for it. Like a higher entity. Call it God. Call it Cosmic Force. Call it Higher Power. It's protected my soul and my physical shell many times.

He's only human. Like myself. Like you. We're fallible. We make errors. I know he's trying to make amends now. For his own sake. I know he realises now that he's let many people and many things and many years and many opportunities pass him by while he struggles to regain his footing and get back into his own game.

Unfortunately, you had to be one of those people used as a form of pawn to help him get back on his feet. I know he didn't mean it to be that way. I know he cared for you very much in his own way. He probably still does. Unfortunately, foolishly, he needed you as a form of emotional crutch, an 'ego-booster' of sorts. He perhaps thought that if you didn't fall in love with him, you'd leave him to his misery faster than any of us could say 'bye'. He wanted affection so badly. Those he wanted thought him friends. In his own way, he probably hoped that one day he could learn to return your love for him too. Unfortunately, he let it go on for so long, by the time he realised he could not love you the way you wanted him to, the damage was done.

He had hurt you deeply and he had no way around it, even if he was genuinely very sorry and guilty about the whole affair. Perhaps that's why although you possibly had a big fat bank account, while he had to fight with me over things as mundane as coming for a visit, he let you siphon off him anyway, even when we were together.

And you possibly felt it was justified, cruelly thinking that since he found some semblance of happiness while you were still wallowing in misery, it was right that he compensated for stringing you along for years. You've probably showed him more than you've shown any other male, and let him see you in ways you'd never allow anyone else to ever see.

I'm sorry. For the hurt he's caused you. For the hurt my being around compounded on you. And for my bringing this up. But I need to know what happened, which I know I may never get from his side of the story, and if my intuition is right. I need to get past this to close that chapter, regardless of where he and I end up. Like you putting him in write-off tray until, perhaps many years later. Or until you find your own happiness.

I told him once, between a male and a female, once deeper emotions are involved, there's no such thing as 'friends'. Not unless both parties have moved on from each other. It's merely an excuse to keep the emotions going, and to stay together, or keep in touch. Nobody is fooled one bit by that excuse. He said nothing at that point. Perhaps because he's got a few 'friends' he's labelled as such, which, his mind, his heart and his gonads are at serious conflict about. I left him to it, though. I've said my piece, and he knows where I stand on that.

We both need closure. But I'm not going to rape your emotions once more. If you'd rather not, I can completely understand.

Epiphanies

It's been a crazy year...

I've done so many things I never expected I'd be able to do.

In my personal life.

At work.

Day-to-day living.

The things I've done.

It amazes me.

The things I've yet to do.

It excites me.

I guess this is what it means, to be letting go, and to just live.

Live and let live, they say.

And it's exhilarating.

Granted I can't do it all, or take it all in at all times.

But I figure... what's important is that I'm trying.

And ultimately, the journey is as important as the destination. If not more.

Signing off now: Good night.

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?

To honour, love and respect.

these are going to be short essays, distilled essences of thoughts over many months. after all, brevity is the soul of wit.

been wanting to write so many things:

about life. how it's so fleeting. so fragile. a friend of mine was so shaken, because her friend died in a horrible car accident. just a week prior, they had chatted about how she'd be starting a new life in another place, where my friend was. a week later, news filtered through that she had died in a horrible car crash. what irony. what meaninglessness. what an awful waste. so much potential. so much passion. so much youth. *snap!* and it's gone. like a bunny in a magician's hat.

and yet, how much do we really know a person? we can spend an entire lifetime with a person, and in his/ her death, be stunned by how little we know.

but life.... it's so unpredictable. so short. so seemingless meaningless at times. yet so powerfully moving at others.

life is fragile. and painful. and beautiful.

i told you: i wish i could've made more of an impact in other people's life. i wish i could've left school at 24 and traversed the world in help of the needy. my next manicure, my heartbreaks over men would've paled so much in comparison to 8 year olds dying of AIDS in my arms. or a pregnant young woman of 14 sobbing her heart out on my shoulder as i tended to the ugly purple welts on her body caused by the lashings of her poor drunken husband 12 years older than she was/ or her pimp who wants her to have an abortion. who am i? what difference can i make?

i told you: when i died, i'd like for as much of my organs to be donated to as many who'd need them, and the remains to be cremated, and the ashes be scattered over a flower bed. because i believe that's how life cycles in the greater scheme of things should be. with death, should come life. and that's why i don't smoke. and i try to keep myself in as good a shape as i can. someone else may need my liver and my heart more than i do.

i'm morbid.


about families. how they shape us. how they love us no matter how much we hurt them. how they welcome the prodigal son with open arms. how much they can hurt us. how much we can hurt them. and yet ultimately, how much we are bonded together no matter what the circumstances. and if familial ties are good, how much they protect.


about love - old loves, new loves. fleeting love, everlasting love. who's to say one impacts us less than another? who's to say the passion of a love of one month is less painful than one that lasts a span of 50 years? after all, both are imprints in the cement of our heart and our soul. they may erode with time, but the outline would always remain. the past may be the past, but the past helped shaped the future. and unless, like the rest of our world's problems, we learn from history, the past would always come back and haunt us. in the shape of the present.

after all, it's been said that our experiences are repetitive from the experiences we've learnt in our formative years. and so, the rest of our lives are repetitions of our childhood experiences. we react to stimuli the way we were taught to react in childhood. and the only other new experience that we would learn in adulthood/ post-pubescence would be the sexual climax. after that, we'd be repeating our initial sexual experience. we'd react to it as we were taught to in that initial experience and repeat it with future partners.

is that how love is as well?

it's been said that men (and perhaps women) have 4 loves in their lives:

1. the love of his/ her childhood (aka childhood sweetheart, puppy love, etc.)
2. the love of his/ her youth (possibly first real love, the one that made a bigger impact, first cut, etc.)
3. the love of his/ her manhood/ womanhood (the love that was made as a mature, responsible adult, one where he/ she assesses compatibility, lifestyle choices, background, etc. rather than profess undying love due to passion, sexual compatibility, physical attraction, etc. you get the idea)
4. the love of his/ her deathbed (where his/ her partner lives to watch him/ her die. the one where he/ she wakes up next to the creaking bones of his/ her senescence. where he/ she smells that old people smell everyday. where he/ she puts up with his/ her failing bladder, falling hair, lack of sexual drive/ sexual ability. where he/ she is the one wiping the snot of his/ her nose because he/ she can no longer do it him/ herself, etc. you get the idea too)

it's said that it is already lucky to have 3 and 4 be the same person, some are luckier still to have 2, 3 and 4 be one and the same. some rare few have all 4 be the same man/ woman.

who's to say? in my grandmother's time, there was no chance or choice to bemoan and wonder if you had married the right person. one is married, and then falls in love. or maybe never fall in love at all, but learn to appreciate one's life partner. with two world wars to survive through, who has time to think whether the next door guy is a better lover/ husband?

but in today's world, in a time of relative economic, political and social peace, with technology crossing all manner of borders, where does one cross the line? you look at your friend's boyfriend and wonder if he'd make a better boyfriend to you. or you look at your friend's sister and wonder if you had made the wrong choice for a girlfriend. or your colleague. or your neighbour. or your friend. or your cyberpal, after one too many online flirtation. too many choices. too little conscience.

we're spoilt for choice. and yet we're ill-equipped to make the right ones.

and so, when i met a friend of mine last week, one i hadn't seen in years, and her brother, who i haven't spoken to in many many years too, with his wife of a year old, i was struck by how quietly and simply eloquent the inscription in their rings were: to honour, love and respect.

To honour, love and respect. Inscribed on the inside of a simple, white-gold wedding band. With the date of their wedding. Taken straight out of their marriage vows:

To honour, love and respect all the days of our lives.

Love. do we really know what it means? so overused. so underappreciated. said at the height of passion. forgotten the next morning. said at the honeymoon stage of a relationship. forgotten when things get rough. as they inadvertently do. said to a replacement when the fires of a previous relationship had barely cooled. thrown out the window at the first argument.

To honour, love and respect. They come together. In a trinity. that's how love lasts, after all.

To honour, love and respect. Do we really know how to do that?

Honour. Do we know what it means?

Love. Do we appreciate the full extent of its meaning?

Respect. Do we have enough of this for ourselves, and hence, other people?

To honour, love and respect. All the days of our lives. Think about it.

It's as much a huge commitment as it is a wonderful promise. Perhaps it is both.

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.

Cannonball

as i'm considering new career options.... and a friend asks me what is it i look for, i realise, i'm a builder.

i want things i can build with. in my mind, with my hands. i grow as i grow other things too.

destroy and build. build on artifacts. use artifacts for building.

i'm a builder. somedays i really think that sucks.

i was walking around waiting for a friend on Saturday... and a song i haven't heard for at least a year came on. my favourite among damien rice's, btw.

funny. mr rice always had the capability to make me look at myself and cry.

and the phone rings. and it just seems so apt. sometimes irony is so thick u wonder if u're living a play.


there’s still a little bit of your taste in my mouth
there’s still a little bit of you laced with my doubt
it’s still a little hard to say what's going on

there’s still a little bit of your ghost, your witness
there’s still a little bit of your face i haven't kissed
you step a little closer each day
still I can´t say what´s going on

stones taught me to fly
love, it taught me to lie
life, it taught me to die
so it's not hard to fall
when you float like a cannonball

there’s still a little bit of your song in my ear
there’s still a little bit of your words i long to hear
you step a little closer to me
so close that I can´t see what´s going on

stones taught me to fly
love taught me to lie
life taught me to die
so its not hard to fall
when you float like a cannon..

stones taught me to fly
love taught me to cry
so come on courage, teach me to be shy
'cos its not hard to fall,

and I don't want to scare her
its not hard to fall
and i don't want to lose
its not hard to grow
when you know that you just don't know
don't know....

~damien rice's cannonball~

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.

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.

3 random things...

3 random things of the day...

1) i find i've started blogging again.... hmm... it's like a drug... i can't stop :P but i wonder... does this also mean i'm ok now? :) i kinda stopped blogging cos well, some things are just too painful to be put into words. at least, not then. but i think i should archive it here. so that 10 years from now, i can look back, see what went on in my schizo head, and laugh at myself for being so unbearably stupid. :D rebounds are no good. no good at all. :)

2) my pineapple tarts are here!! yummy!!! time to collect from crazywoman :) but gotta pay up, too. with that creature (:P) nothing is free. but ahh.. i never expect things to be anyway. :D

3) you ask me if/when you can have me. honestly, you'll never have me. just the parts of me that i'm able to share with you. :) maybe you've been going about things all wrong then? complete possession is never the answer. yeah. i speak from experience. shadows from my past that could possibly rival yours. shadows very few people know of. and which took me almost 2 years to finally open up to someone about. and only because that someone was leaving :P and then things got easier. shadows that still haunt me to this day. because he still calls. and still texts. but i would never pick up anymore. because he doesn't exist. not to me. yes i can be cold. so cold it burns. like liquid nitrogen. are you sure you know what you're doing?

I'm FUCKIN' BLOGGIN' ALREADY, BITCH!!! :D

so, ahem... i was told to 'Stop fucking around on f***** and start blogging already!'

guess it's been a long time :) so many things have happened since, it amazes me...

life goes on, i guess...

i've got so many blogs written fully in my head, but i'm too darn lazy and i was also genuinely busy, so i haven't blogged. even have some written on paper... but... to... lift... those.... fin-gers.... to... type... is... haaarrrrddddd.... woooorrrrkkkk..... *yawn* :P

(no, bitch... not just busy superpoking ppl :P)

so what have i been up to? what's new?

for the 1.5 ppl still visiting me here :)

i've been:

a) talking to the voices in my head. they were all quarrelling with each other, see :) hence all the stress.... we're all happily on the same side, now, minus the minor arguments, so it's all good :D

b) work. seriously. finished up a job in august. commencing on a few potentials this month. work's good :) keeps me occupied.

c) spending too much time on f****'s apps. gotta join f**** apps anonymous soon :P according to Nick. well, i agree. haha. but it's been a pleasure. found so many old and new friends there :D and it's WAAAAYYYYY cooler than f*****. :P

d) meeting up with friends, meeting new ones, partaaayyyyy-iiinnnnggggg!!!!! :D as some of u might know, from the pics i've put up. life's been rockin'! :D

e) burying the ghosts of the past :) will put up posts about that later. be warned ;) forewarned is forearmed, dahlings :)

i'm glad my friends have rallied for me :) it's good to know one is loved. thank you. all of you :) u guys know who u are. through my fluctuating moods, and my cranky rants. and my anger. and lawd... the frustration :P u ppl must be saints. i love you too :) yeah, this is my way of saying thank you.

what else? ohh... i think bachelor girl's Buses and Trains best describes my situation now.... *sighs* sometimes things happen when one least expects it, i suppose. sang this over and over in the car friday night :P one of my faves from old times. and my god, still so fitting after so many years. kinda like natalie imbruglia's Torn.

Hey Mom, why didn't you tell me?
Why didn't you teach me a thing or two?
You just let me go, out into the world,
You never thought to share what you knew.

CHORUS

So I walked under a bus,
I got hit by a train,
Keep fallin' in love,
Which is kind of the same,
I've sunk out at sea, crashed my car, gone insane,
And it felt so good, I wanna do it again.

Hey Mom, why didn't you warn me?
'Cause about boys there's something I should have known,
They're like chocolate cake, like cigarettes,
I know they're bad for me but I just can't leave 'em alone.

CHORUS

Hey Mom, since we're talkin',
What was it like when you were young?
Has the world changed or is still the same?
A man can kill and still be the sweetest fun.

ciaoz :) will be back again. soon. promise. *kisses*

Finality

17.08.2007. 1942 hours.

I finally took the steps I should have taken long ago on my own accord today.

Finally.

The finality weighted down on me. But it had to be done. Considering how he was a selfish coward to the end, and how finally, that selfish cowardice turned into a cruelty so crippling, its consequences on me, he would never see, and, if I had my way, he'd never know.

He probably never thought twice about it, but he would criticise all but one of my five senses: sight, smell, taste, touch, hearing. The only thing he didn't complain about was my voice. Perhaps, given time, he might have started criticising that as well.

It makes me wonder now: What type of little person was he, that he had to put me down, especially after a particularly intimate moment?
If I had doubts about my self-esteem, his criticism would have destroyed me.
Was that what he was seeking to do? What did he get out of such behaviour? But I no longer want to know.

Looking back now, there are some aspects to our situation then that I did not understand, which I do now. It casts an even greater shadow on the memory.

It makes me wonder, too, if everything he did then, had a hidden agenda. The thought made me blanch, but I suppose I have to face the consequences of my choice. So I made a mistake. A huge one.

I suppose if I were he, I wouldn't be able to help not just having the emotional range of a teaspoon, but also the psychological range of a pinhead.

I feel sorry for him.

But I can't spend the rest of my life playing counselor. And I won't take being used and abused again.

Someday he may finally come to his senses.
Someday he may learn to be less selfish.
Someday he may no longer be a coward.
Someday he may finally grow up and be a man.
But someday is too long to wait.

Someday might be tomorrow. Someday might be his deathbed.
Someday is a word he uses when he doesn't want to make a commitment.

Someday I may learn to trust and respect him again.
Someday I may learn to like him as a person once more.
Someday we might share once more the camaraderie we used to share.
Someday I may no longer feel as hurt as I do now.

But for now, I would rather keep it like this.

It would be as though we never met again.

I would remember him as the boy I used to know in school.

I'd wipe out as best I can, my memory of him as the charred holey remains of a shell I met again years later.

Because no matter how hard I tried to fill that shell, I could never do so.
No matter how much tears I filled it up with, it never did fill.

So I've stopped trying. It's too late for me.
Perhaps not for him, but for me.

Because it hurts to feel used.
Because it hurts to feel cheated on.
Because it hurts to care and yet realise it's one-sided.
Because it hurts to love a person incapable of loving.
Because it hurts to feel stupid and question your own judgment.
Because it hurts to know you've been betrayed.
Because it hurts to ask yourself:
'You hurt me more than I deserve, how can you be so cruel? I love you more than you deserve, why am I such a fool?'

Love and acceptance has to be borne, it cannot be expected from someone else.
If you hold someone's hand, you would never let it go. But it you ask someone to hold yours, you never know when you would be let go of.
You have to love and accept yourself first, before someone else can love and accept you. Because truly, how the world sees you, is how much you see, and show of, yourself to the world.

I suppose that truth is something he would never understand. Partly because he has never really wanted to try. An empty peace without true commitment is always what he had sought after. He is still a spoilt, selfish, cowardly little brat. A wilful 4-year-old who throws tantrums when he doesn't get what he want. Took me awhile to see that, and come to terms with it. All the women in his life, he had never treated well. Not the first, not the second, not the third, not the fourth, and not even his mother. He had never had enough respect for anyone of them to tell anyone of them the full truth at all times.

He hates himself. TOO much. And he expects other people to fill that gap in his life. To make him feel good about himself. To keep him from hating himself. He doesn't realise only he himself can do that for himself.

I refuse to live like that. Yet that is the very painful truth I had to finally come to terms with. That was what sealed the decision for me. A boy who has no respect for his parents, and who hates himself, is extremely flawed in character.

And the truth is, no matter how elitist this may sound, but Oprah Winfrey was right. We should surround ourselves only with people who would lift us up, not drag us down.

I hope this would be the end of it. The last of it. I'm turning my wounds into wisdom. Because I know, the way we're meant to be is that where there is no struggle, there is no strength.

Perhaps that was his problem from Day 1. But it's no longer my problem. It never was in the first place. All he's ever done for me was tell me 'No'. No, I wasn't good enough. No, I wasn't hot enough. No, I wasn't skinny enough (I should weigh less than 45kgs). No, I didn't smell good enough. No, No, No. Fuck it, he had never earned the right to tell me Yes in the first place. So why take a No?

'When it comes to being lucky, he's first,
When it comes to loving me, he's the worst.'

Here are more of my favourite quotes from the Great Coloured Lady:

1. Never take a 'no' from somebody who isn't in a position to give you a 'yes' in the first place.

2. We are each responsible for our own life - no other person is or even can be.

3. The thing you fear most has no power. Your fear of it is what has the power. Facing the truth really will set you free.

4. If you want your life to be more rewarding, you have to change the way you think.

5. I believe the choice to be excellent begins with aligning your thoughts and words with the intention to require more from yourself.

6. You are built not to shrink down to less but to blossom into more.

7. It is confidence in our bodies, minds and spirits that allows us to keep looking for new adventures, new directions to grow in, and new lessons to learn - which is what life is all about.

8. I believe that one of life's greatest risks is never daring to risk.

9. For everyone of us that succeeds, it's because there's somebody there to show you the way out. The light doesn't always necessarily have to be in your family.

10. We can't become what we need to be by remaining what we are.

11. I know that you cannot hate other people without hating yourself.

I'm THAT FAT meh???

i've been told i'm insane.

i've been told i'm cheeky.

not too long ago, i was a Class A nerd. like, seriously! :P

aye, i think i still am.

so i don't quite know where to place myself.

all i know is, i've always been odd. not queer, darling, i appreciate way too much the aesthetic beauty of the male body to swing the other way, much to my dismay. as a quite-nearly-there faggy boy (well, at least, he acts faggy sometimes) once told me: turning bi-curious doubles your chances of getting laid. :P to which i replied: hunny, i ain't got no trouble gettin' laid, babe.

so yeah, i don't quite know where i stand sometimes. a cheeky class A nerd?

anyway, i was walking at a prominent shopping complex yesterday evening with two of my galpals, we were about to go home after a swanky dinner. yep, girls like to pamper themselves. :) boys, note this, and note it well: the better ur woman feels about herself, the better she'd make u feel. really, she'd make u one happy happy boy. of course, that is if both of u really like each other enough to care. that goes without saying, no?

there was an OSIM promotion going on. well, one of the salesboys were trying to convince us to try their product. unfortunately the poor boy was pointing to the uZap poster, while trying to convince my friend. oooo.....

ok, none of us make a stick insect look curvy. and honestly, i like my ass JUST the way it is, thank you very much. at least if i'm getting screwed, my man ain't gonna feel no pain after 6 hours straight of thrusting. that way, he can do more of it in the morrow. ok?

so no, i don't wanna weigh under 45kgs. i know, MOST (not ALL) moronic chinese boys like their females plank-like. meaning: 'front dun have, back dun have', please sway like a waterlily, listen to everything i say, cling to me like a barnacle and never let me go even if i do u sooo sooooooo bad. cos my self-esteem can't take no shit from no real woman.

my poor friend. she was trying to ignore him. he was insistent. biasa-lerrr, salesman. so i spoke loudly to the friend between us: Just tell him laaa..... i'm THAT FAT meh???

friend B stared at me, shocked. friend A turned her attention away from salesman towards me. salesman was shocked for awhile then quickly recovered and said: Not fat.... massage maa.....

all three of us burst out laughing, and walked away.

kekeke.....

insane meh? evil meh? just mischievous laaa.... having been brought up constantly under the hawk-like eyes of my very watchful parents, i'm just making up for lost time. ;)

Decisions

Whoever implied/said growing up was fun/easy needs his nads removed in the most painful way possible.

It ain't easy. Or fun.

And right now, I feel like bloody murder on the one hand, and a painful resignation on the other.

Some things are best served cold. And unannounced.

Decisions.

Should I, should I not?

Who would suffer?

How do I clean up the mess after? 'Cos I know I'd have to do it. Assholes just shit and leave the shit to decompose on its own. Or hope someone would clean up after them. They wouldn't be assholes if they took responsibility for their own actions now, would they?

Then again, perhaps I should let assholes have a taste of their own medicine now, no?

Damage control.

How could I minimise the damage that would be done?

Or should I just let all hell break lose?

Not like I have much to lose, anyway. What's there left to lose?

I've built up my life from scratch once before, I can do it again.

And again. And again.

I don't like getting out of my relative comfort zone right now, but hell, if that's what it takes, that's what I'd do.

There is only one way for redemption. There is but one answer. I will make no more concessions. I've made too many too often as it is. At too many people's expense.

My mistake was taking too long to make my stand. And being too kind.

Explanations are for pussies who use it as another way of making another million excuses. A coward's form for being 'the wolf in sheep's clothing.'

The explanation is only worthy when followed up with the necessary deed.

Spare me the BS. Really. I've known too many NATO (No Action Talk Only) members in my 20 odd years in my life as it is.

It's disgusting.

The Frightening Things Women Do To Themselves

Was talking to a friend over dinner last night.

And she mentioned something that got me to thinking.

She says that when she's unhappy or depressed, or is having a particularly low self-esteem day, she'd not eat. Just to punish herself.

i.e.:
"You're not good enough. You don't deserve to eat..."

Ouch! I know....

That's very bad...

But when I look at my own patterns of behaviour, I realise that I do that to myself, too. Deliberately punishing myself when I feel lousy. Deliberately hurting myself.

Getting up and putting on my ugliest outfit.

"You're not good enough. You don't deserve to look pretty."

Going out with the wrong types of men.

"You're not good enough. You don't deserve a kind, caring, loving man who loves you for you."

Considering the fact that I HAVE to eat, and that I have a frightening appetite, I can't NOT eat, on normal days.

But I notice too, a while back, when I couldn't eat.

That's when I'm at an all-time low.

I won't even get out of bed on weekends unless I absolutely MUST. I refuse to shower. I refuse to eat.

That's when I'm saying to myself:

"You're not good enough for anything. Go DIE."

I make myself sick from pure will. I reckon I could will myself to death, too.

"DIE DIE DIE."

"You're ugly. You're rubbish. You're pure crap. You're nothing. You don't deserve food. You don't deserve clothes. You don't deserve anything. Just DIE."

I have had very black moments in my life. Those moments are frighteningly dark. Those are moments I wish I could forget. Those are moments I never want to recall.

But we never could forget what happens to us. Having a trigger-memory, I definitely cannot forget. Little things remind me of what I've gone through, what I'm still going through.

But it's frightening what women do to themselves out of self-hatred. It's like self-annihilation.

It's frightening how the mind works.

How it could take you to the very depths of crushing despair and loss, and yet how it could pull you right out of that vortex of swirling, churling darkness.

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?

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

Thursday, 21.06.2007. 1158hours.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Anywhere but here...

Saturday, 16.06.2007. 2332 hours.

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

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

We've reached our pinnacle, I suppose.

It's now or never.

We either make it or break it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Except, perhaps...

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

Journeys and Distances

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But really, like Bobots asked that evening:

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

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

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

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

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

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