Peace

Wednesday, 23 September 2009. 2059 hours.

I do believe everything happens for a reason. And the reason will reveal itself in due time. Also that things will fall in place when you're ready for it.

Today I ran into someone I haven't 'ran into' for more than 3 years. Yet I was in love with him for 6 years. Funny. We used to 'run into' each other often enough.

I find that it is indeed a blessing to be able to stand tall, look him in the eyes, greet him by name and say 'Hi'. And to find that you don't blubber, or stutter, or blush, or gasp, or feel little butterflies. But that you're calm and at peace with yourself. When asked 'How are you?', you can actually smile and say 'I'm good, thanks.' and mean it, and be able to walk away without looking back. Because you are.

You're comfortable with who you are, where you are and where you're going, and happy with your life in general.

And all you feel when you look at your recently married former heartbreak is a mere slight twinge of nostalgia for the days when you could share a meal and laugh at inane things that strike your fancies, knowing that those days are no more, and not regretting it.

Knowing also that you've known for a pretty long while that he wasn't meant for you, and being alright with that knowledge.

2008

It's been a long, difficult year.

High points. Low points.

I've had to struggle in my career, in my personal life. I've had to shelve a few plans.

2008 has been bittersweet.

Career-wise, it's a cliffhanger. Salary increment plans would be on hold till further notice. So there's that. Nothing I can say about that. I'm just glad I've done what I've aimed to do when I took this job offer: Learn. And that I have. It's better no salary increment than to have a pay-cut and get laid off anyway, which is being done in several companies, given the current economic climate. So I'll dig my heels in and weather the storm as best I can. After all, it wasn't a bad start to my new job. And I'm trying to keep as positive as I can.

Personal life, well I suppose if anyone's been following that's off till further notice too. I'm not sure where that will be going. I suppose for now, I'll be concentrating on me. 'Cos I've let go. There's no more anger, no more frustration, just sadness. Resignation. Forgiveness too, for what had been done. Although I wouldn't let any of that happen to me again. That's just self-preservation. Once bitten, twice shy. But we've both made many mistakes, and forgiveness is important to move forward with living.

It sucks to break up right before the holiday season. Christmas was always the most quietly romantic holiday for me. Time to spend with loved ones. People we cherish most. But in a way I'm glad. And relieved. It would suck even more to be crying and fighting during the holiday season. Mayhap it's better this way.

There's much to be learnt from solitude after all.

Met a friend I knew from a friend, and barely know in person on fb chat. And he tells me: 'cheer up dear... good things always around the corner... though sometimes it can be a long corner... nevertheless .... good things...'

Strangely comforting, coming from a guy who annoys me to bits each time we meet. :P Probably the first time he sounds his age in the few times we meet... and immediately after, he sounds like his usual jackass self again :)

That, though, somehow made me cry again, silly as it is... it's been a really long corner this year, and I've come right to the edge of breaking point so many times. I suppose that's the price to pay for growing up. I do hope he's right... I could do with a nice break, even a small one, just to know the effort's not all been in vain.

So I wanna take a break. From the daily grind for awhile. Just to recharge, rejuvenate. Probably remove myself from people for awhile. Just to rediscover myself.

It's been a long corner of a year. But I've had no regrets.

I ended the year:

1. On a cliffhanger due to the global economic downturn.

2. Newly single again, though with many new friends.

3. Learning how to clean the radiator gasket for a car... that's another completely different blog altogether. Stay tuned.

4. Back to my November 2007 waistline... Yes, I can fit in old jeans again. That's how much I lost weight due to the events of the past 2-3 months.

5. Having a new appreciation for my family and friends, well-meaning that they are... though not necessarily always helpful :P but still... well-meaning....

I wish to have a clean, fresh start to 2009, with renewed hope for the future, whatever it is it has in store for me.

Life goes on, after all. And I hope my friend is right. Good things always around the corner.

Let's drink to the past, toast to the future, and cheer the present.

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 :)

Unfinished

There are times when you come to mind.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I just regret how things turned out.

Insomnia

movement... in the depths of my subconscious.

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

movement... restlessness. sleeplessness.

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

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

the answer's on the calendar.

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

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

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

i guess this explains it best:

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

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

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

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

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

~Jordin Sparks, Tattoo~

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

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

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

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

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

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

~Fuel, Hemmorhage~

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

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

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

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

~Stars, Your Ex-Lover Is Dead~

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

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

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

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

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

and i miss you. terribly.

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

and i miss you. terribly.

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

and this christmas, words fail me.

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

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

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

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

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

~Janis Gott, Big Red Christmas Bow~

and again... i miss you. terribly.

christmas around the corner!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

who wants to watch christmassy movies with me?

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

and my customary Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas

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

Christmas hugs and kisses all around! :P

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

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

high school

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

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

1. band practice (STS band rawked!)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

14. choral speaking :P

15. the colourful teachers.

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

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

these are mine that weren't mentioned:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

24. the pencil family.

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

26. creating ridiculous stories.

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

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

29. wearing shorts underneath our pinafores.

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

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

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

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

'cos i am a bee-o-ach... yeah... fuck me... why don't u :)

psycho says i'm a bee-o-ach :D cos i was gonna blog about her.

see, she told me to fucking blog already, but she herself 'tiada inspirasi'. bitch. cibai. WANKER!

also cos she ppk me for mooncake festival. we were supposed to go out together. all of us. she had to fucking go to the fucking plant at fucking night-time for her fucking fucktard of a fuckwitted company on fucking mid-autum fucking festival. what the fuck.... FUCK!!! bitch. cibai. WANKER!

then yesterday she got back home from work at fucking 5am this morning.... what the fuck!

and she's been meaning to quit for YEARS. i tell yooouuuuuuu.... Fucking Quit Already THEN. haihhh.... she's no sucker when it comes to men (well, not really, but better than me) but she's a fucked up sucker when it comes to work :(

bimbotic bitch comes in and asks her to do something which she's done already (with witnesses) and she's left frustrated and speechless. when she told me, yeah i was so pissed off on her behalf, i told her: why dont u tell her: 'would you like a press conference the next time you're here, ma'am?'

yeah, i learnt to be sarcastically bitchy without being downright insulting in my years doing customer service. when i quit my job at THE STUPIDEST MEDICAL CENTRE this side of malaysia, and the ortho surgeon asked me why i was leaving, i told him: well, it appears there are irreconcilable differences in terms of opinion, ethics and practices with the upper management. he was floored for a several seconds there. :P then he smiled and said: well.... good luck to you, wherever you're going. :) he was the nicest looking thing in that fucked-up place, though. and he was mighty nice, too.

anyway, back to my psychotic friend. was talking to another mutual friend who's in the north now, and well, like all girls, we reminisce about things past, and mutual friends. she was saying something about her putting on weight, i was telling her about some dieting according to blood type which my big boss practices, and several friends did as well, which caused one of them to drop like 18kgs in 3-4 months? hmmm.... and i was telling her about how i cant be doing the 'eat once a day diet', cos i'd frigging go crazy. this girl's gotta eat like every 4 hours. or my hands will shake, i'd start getting miiiggghhhhttttyyyyyy pissy, and then when the migraine sets in, that's it. u're fucking screwed if u're in the line of fire.

so J says: ya ya ya... i must eat too
and i said: i can't be like (psychobitch) eat only once a day... how she can go 24 hours without food is beyond me....
J: omg.. ya... she's crazy... summore she so thin liao.
me: ya loh...
J: tell her she needs a healthier diet, and to eat more. else later her boobs also gone, then she know...

*cue both of us laughing really hard*

why? cos the girl got lovely tits. and i say this in a totally non-lesbo way. it's big. and she's chinese. which is kinda rare. oh, did i say big? i meant fairly damn huge. :P

btw, she knows i'm blogging about her. i gave her fair warning. see, i don't backstab ppl. what's the point when u can stab them when they're watching? :P i rather do the frontstabbing.... in fact...

*text messaging at 6++pm*

me: J and i were discussing u today on msgr. she says u gotta change ur eating habits, or eat more, else u'd be losing ur tits..
P: OOOOIIIIIII!!!!!!!!! BABIIIII!!!!!!!!!
me: btw, we is gonna have another 'kutuk u' session tmr. yes?? u know we laps u :P
P: WTF??!! Oi!! I demand 2 b represented by a defense. I will not be subjected to a trial w/o fair representation!
me: it's not a fair trial... hence the word 'kutuk' :D awww... u know we laps u :P
P: Fuck u bitches...
me: *muaxxx*
P: Grah!! *sigh

hehehe... yep... that's a NORMAL conversation, btw. if we don't insult each other, we feel like something's not right :)

and yeah, she knows i'm blogging about her... i'm fully expecting her to flame me right back. cos she said so :P

ok, on to other stuff.

1) i just got my namecard! FINALLY! :P it says 'consultant'. MUAHAHAHAHA!!!! i was definitely tickled. no handphone number. good. :P

2) planning another tipsy girls' night out when the girl comes back from japan :D yay... somehow we seem to party harder when boys aren't around... odd :P long island tea, bling, lots of suggestive dancing, fuck-me-heels... THAT frame of mind... yep! gonna be a good night. it's all in the company and the music.

3) LOL. J reminisced about the days when she hadn't gotten married, and we were all still in university. how we were supposed to go for dinner at finnegan's but ended up staying for the clubbing.... and we were all in t-shirts while everyone else was in bling... and i ended up tabletop dancing... in my SPIDEY t-shirt... cos there was a really hot woman there who danced like she was a pole-dancer, and she dragged me up there. while she crawled around the table wiggling her assets. hotdamn! yeah, i remember :) good times, those :) those were the times when i still thought everything was possible.

4) i had nothing better to do :P so i went on blogthings... yeah, i still have a weakness for quizzes :D

How You Are In Love

You take a while to fall in love with someone. Trust takes time. You give and take equally in relationships. You need your space and privacy. You don't like to be smothered. You love your partner unconditionally and don't try to make them change. You stay in love for a long time, even if you aren't loved back. When you fall, you fall hard.

How Are You In Love?

uggghhhh... it's the last part of that that i wanna change.... but i guess something so ingrained, well.... i guess i'll just have to take me as i am.

enjoy :P

If music be the food of love, play on....

Was chatting with my former student, and she complained about her missing documents before abruptly stopping and said, "Hey, teacher, I gotta go. Got to prepare for orchestra."

A pang of something shot through me, I don't know what. Regret, nostalgia, maybe?

What I know for sure is that I miss the Nurse, and I miss SONS. Can't think of one without the other. I miss playing the piano. (Though I was never a member of SONS). But plenty of my friends then were.

I suppose I miss those times. I miss how we all were then.

Before I came here. Before things got in the way.

It was like The Age of Innocence.

Then again, now isn't all bad.

So if Music be the food of Love, play on...

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.

Autobots! Transform and Roll Out!

Find out which Transformer you are at LiquidGeneration!

so i'm secretly boring :P ok, now u know my biggest secret....
underneath all that insanity, mischieviousness and tongue-in-cheek sexual innuendoes and comments, i'm actually very cautious, and very quiet. and i prefer level-headed dissections any day to bimbotic loud 'hEwOw!! i WUV uuuuuu.... AHHHHH!!!! HaWwIe PoTteR!!!!'

:P man, how do ppl type like that anyway?

Dragonflies

Been seeing too many dragonflies of late. I walk out of the house, and I see a dragonfly. Whether the real thing, or a human interpretation of it.

I wonder what it means....

Not that I don't like dragonflies. I love them. Caught them as a child. Studied the different colours and intricacies of the wing patterns. Then I released them.

Yep! I is kampung girl. I could tell the difference between a male and female dragonfly as a girl. Not sure I remember how to now anymore, though.

Even as a 5-year-old, I loved Biology.

Had always preferred dragonflies to butterflies, for some reason. Perhaps I liked the fact that dragonflies seem to be able to move from water to air. It's as though they made something out of themselves from humble beginnings.

Never mind. I'm rambling. And beginning to sound even more like a madwoman than usual. :)

I'm not superstitious, or anything, but... there has been times in my life when a recurring event/object/creature means some Greater Power up there is trying to tell me something.

Dreams. Objects. Events. Form 5. Form 6. University. PG Dip. Now.

Dejavu.

I wonder what it means.

I really do think Someone's trying to tell me something. It's getting way too often to be ignored.

Should go and find out if dragonflies mean anything, and if they do, what they symbolise.

Sigh.... Now I sound even more insane than I already am. :P

Anywhere but here...

Saturday, 16.06.2007. 2332 hours.

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

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

We've reached our pinnacle, I suppose.

It's now or never.

We either make it or break it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Except, perhaps...

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

Snowflakes

Saturday. 09.06.2007. 1000 hours.

When I finally confessed to a friend about everything that's happened, she was first, speechless, then, disgusted, finally, disappointed.

I don't blame her. I felt waaaayyyy worse. There was a period when I didn't want to look at myself in the mirror.

Then she said: 'Forget.'
But I said: 'It won't be so easy. We share close mutual friends.'

It was true. From 2001-2007, he was probably one of the worst. But unlike the rest, he was the only one with whom I couldn't completely cut off ties.

The other Top Three Jackasses on my list:

1. The Doctor was easy to ignore. Don't pick up calls, don't reply text, don't answer e-mails. Ignore. Ignore. Ignore. He was as good as dead to me.

2. Mr. Churchie-Wurchie wasn't so easy. But still, easier. One mutual friend moved to Aussie, and he didn't really keep in touch with that one, anyway. The other pissed me off so much, that I refused to talk to this one, and cut off ties, too. How very convenient. It was easier after that. It was like the Fates were on my side.

3. But this one isn't as easy. Fate doesn't seem to be on my side. We have close mutual friends that meet regularly. We have unfinished business together that I can't just leave behind. It was as though the Fates conspired to make me suffer and keep him in my sights. Or me in his. Whatever.

This I explained to her.

She said: 'The next time u wanna do something stupid, let me know, so I can whack u on the head with an iron bar.'

Then: 'You've successfully survived years in (insert name of Alma Mater here), don't tell me you can't endure a few hours with mutual friends?'

She's right. Growing up in Alma Mater a four-eyed pizza face, with all teachers knowing my parents, and not being rich, or pretty, in a school full of, and obsessed with, spoilt, rich, beautiful brats wasn't easy. (I'm generalising, remember. Not all are like that).

She knows what I went through. She could tell me WHY I was constantly ridiculed and made fun of.

There's a difference, though. I didn't care then. I phased out most of the time. Like The Doctor, and Mr. Churchie-Wurchie, I COULD not care.

This one got under my skin. Many nights I cry myself to sleep wondering why I cared so much, why he did what he did, and why I allowed myself to be so emotionally vulnerable. And the tears flow again, as I wonder how he could do it, after knowing what he did about all I've gone through. How he could change so much. How he could manipulate and choose a time when I'm most emotionally vulnerable to make me pay for the sins of his other women.

Why did he have to make everything so complicated?

Yes, I could endure the times when I have to face him. I could survive that as I've survived everything else before this.

Two years ago, at 3am on a cold, quiet morning in PH, Diana and I were swapping stories. She of her then boyfriend of 5 years, and me of everything else. No, I had yet to meet Mr. Sel-Imposed-Contrariness then. Diana was shocked. 'For a girl your age, I'm surprised you have gone through all that in such a short span of time. Some girls never go through any of that at all in their whole life.'

'No. And they're the lucky ones. I didn't actively seek them out. I don't consciously put myself here.'

Looking back, maybe I subconsciously do this to myself. Maybe, like my friend says, I seek affection. I can do everything myself. There's nothing I can't do. I've been trained from childhood to be so independent, it can be frightening. And yet, I'd like it if someone could do it once in awhile for me for a change.

Maybe that's my problem. Maybe I should want them even less than I need them. And I already need nothing from them.

My friend says, as I was stuffing stuffed mushrooms into my already stuffed mouth (O_O): 'At the end of this... 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8th mushroom, he no longer exists. Comprende?'

Looking at my friend of many years, good and bad, through our own fall-outs, I suddenly felt thankful. There are friends, and then there are Friends.

You know you've been friends long enough and well enough when you can just sit quietly together and not feel the need to say anything.

You know you've been friends well enough when words are unnecessary to express how you feel.

You know you've been friends well enough when you know what the other is thinking without the other person saying anything.

You know you've been friends well enough when one look is enough to convey what's on your mind. And you know the other person knows what it means.

You know you've been friends well enough when you can finish each other's sentences.

You know you've been friends long enough and well enough, most of all, when you know the person will have your back, and that the person is someone you can run to when you've nowhere to go, and that's the person you can trust with your blackmail-worthy secrets.

'Yes', I said quietly.

But what she doesn't know was that writing was how I endured Alma Mater.

I wrote on sheet after sheet of long F4 paper. Not stopping until I was done.

When I discovered my parents read them, I either set them on fire, or tore them into little snowflakes.

I would have liked to read them now, though. I've often wondered what my 20 something self would think of me at 10, 12, 14, 16, 18 years old. What murderous intentions did I have then? O_O

So this is how I would endure. This here is my catharsis. I would not speak of him in real life again, unless and until things changes between us (which I put no hope or faith in, sad to say, I really never wished things would end this way).

I would put my thoughts on cyberspace. Only here would I allow myself to truly speak my mind. These are my snowflakes.

When the sun rises in the morning, they would melt, dry up and disappear in the glow of the morning sun.

And they would be no more but distant memories.

Listening to:
Guns N Roses' November Rain (Acoustic)
Butterfly Boucher's I Can't Make Me
Travis' Writing To Reach You

The Precipice Pt. 3

Friday. 08.06.2007. 2033 hours.

It's been a long time. It feels like forever since I've been plunged headlong, and I've walked the Valley of Darkness.

The screams. The cries. The moans. The gritting of teeth. The stench of death. The pain all around. The seemingly endless road to travel. No stops. No rest. Only exhaustion. Only pain. Travelling that endless road filled with dark gravel, crawling on my knees. With all that torture, all that gore, all that blood, all that tears around me.

I've only come to realise that it's all mine. That endless mire of frustration and exhaustion is mine.
The tears are mine.
The blood is mine.
The screams,
the groans,
the moans,
the cries,
the gritting of teeth.
They all belong to me.
The stench of death is the stench of my death.
The pain is mine.
The long road is mine.
It's all mine.

He may have taken me to the precipice, he may have pushed me off it. But I didn't climb. It took me so long to realise that all the horrors of that valley belonged to me. Yet I stupidly trudged on, on my knees, hoping to find light at the end of that darkness.

Who was I to call him stupid? I was even more so. How much better am I, when I did the exact same thing he is doing, just because he took me along?

I could've climbed. But I chose to stay. And walk on my knees. Maybe I thought he needed someone to walk with him. Maybe I thought he'd be sad and lonely. Maybe I thought he'd walk with me. But he'd all but disappeared. He had always been walking with someone else, and that someone else is the one he chooses to walk with, while I had to walk the route alone.

Yes, I am disappointed in him. But that is nothing compared to the disappointment I feel in myself.

He is a fool, yes. But I am a bigger one.

And to hear both being shouted over the tops of the mountains by trusted friends was enough to set things in motion for me.

I shall not live in the darkness of my blindness any longer. Not when there's surgery available.

If he still chooses to traverse that darkness, so be it. I can't change a stupidly arrogant and stubborn boy-man, who refuses to listen. I won't even try.

If he wants to waste his time, he can. But I refuse to let him waste mine anymore.

The route has been cut through the valley. There's now a path of escape. The price to pay, like everything in life, is to cut off the shackles binding my hands and feet. That I must do myself. And the climbing, I have to do on my own.

He could come with me. I have shown him what the valley was, and the path to freedom.

But I can't cut his shackles, and I can't do his climbing for him. That he must do on his own.

All children learnt to crawl and walk on their own. All children stumble and fall. All children were taught and encouraged to walk properly, but they have to do the walking and stumbling and getting up again on their own.

Someone commented we looked almost alike. That we looked good together. Like a pair. Like we have an amazingly strong bond, a chemistry. After seeing us only once. For a few hours. When we barely spoke to each other. Maybe. Maybe we have a bond, a chemistry. Complicity. Maybe we look good together. Like each other.

Well, so what? Yes, chemistry and bond is important, but there's only so much that can do.

For instance, take ballroom dancers. A perfectly matched ballroom-dancing couple can make the art look so effortless, so easy, so heartbreakingly beautiful. It's like they move as one, although they're separate entities. Like they were born to it.

But no matter how perfectly matched they are, and how wonderful they look together, it counts for nothing if one partner refuses to dance.

Bond, or no bond, chemistry or no chemistry, glorious perfection or not, it amounts to nothing. Nada. Zilch.

I'd do better to dance with someone else.

Funny how the only thing he could say in response, after the stunned silence all around when another party clarified the situation, was: 'No, I don't have that many pimples.'

For an articulate, wordy, sarcastic girl, after the first initial bombshell, this hurtful rudeness left me speechless. But perhaps my silence was more than enough to make a statement. Even his friend said: 'That wasn't a nice thing to say.'

No. It wasn't. He isn't nice. He may like to think he is, but he isn't.

If I were to count his sins, big and small, against me, it would take an entire lifetime of utter devotion to make it up to me, and then some.

Barring his parents, he probably owes me more than he owes anyone else in his life. To be used as a tool and then discarded isn't a nice feeling at all.

He isn't nice. Not at all. And I was stupid.

He can stay and rot with the perpetrator of all his nastiness and negativity, since that's what he wishes. The longer he stays, the worse he'll become, but that could no longer be my concern.

He probably doesn't realise that nastiness eats at the soul. He's becoming soul-less. I could not believe he said what he did, so swiftly, so humiliatingly, so publicly. The longer he stays there, the worse he's become. It's like the men of Pirates' Davy Jones' Flying Dutchman.

Part of the ship, one with the ship. Ugly, misshapen, horrendous to look at. He's turning into that. Part of the nastiness. One with the nastiness.

He's nasty. He wasn't in the past, when I knew him first, but he is now. And which matters more, really? The past, or the present? We can't change our past. But it's our present that shapes the future. So many people forget that.

If he so chooses, I'd take his hand, and we'd make that climb together. But I won't wait for him. With or without him, I'm making that climb out of this hellhole. The love and support of my friends awaits me. Happiness and brightness awaits me. Laughter and peace awaits me. After all that personal suffering that I bore so long on my own, I deserve to bask in the light of the honest and the true. And the genuine and the caring.

Unlike Bond, I get only one shot at life. Now that I have to work late nights in KL City Centre itself, I might get viciously raped and brutally murdered walking home tomorrow. I'd never know. He's wasted enough of my time. He's plunged me, unwary, without warning, into abyssmal darkness. His abyss. His darkness. The blackness of his increasingly soul-less spirit. And he made it mine.

Now that I've found a way out, he can come with me, and I'd take his hand, if he so chooses. Only if he wants to. But I won't wait. With, or without him, I'm making that climb.

I'll remember

The brain is insidious in how it works.

Memories. The more you try to forget, the more you forget. Everything. Even the things you never wanted to.

So I've stopped. I'll remember. I'll remember everything.

The good and the bad. The happy and the sad. If it makes me cry, so be it. Tears are the safety valves of the heart, anyway.

I'll accept it as it is. I've already learnt to let go.

But I can't stop my mind from remembering. I owe this to me. To feel. To learn. Also to let go slowly. In my own time.

I've grown. Just as I've grown to love you. It's different from falling in love. Loving someone and being in love with someone is poles apart from one another. Someday, if I'm lucky, I'd have both. But now, now's not it.

I know full well the differences between them. Perhaps it's because I've always perceived love with my head rather than my heart. One's accepting. The other is blind.

I know you. I understand you. Not enough, but I try to. No one person can understand another completely. You think I don't accept you, but I do.

I know all your faults. I'm not blind to them. How you could be self-centered. Selfish. Critical. Judgmental. Blatantly cruel. How you could disregard others' feelings to guard your own.

But I know your strengths too. There are times you're so sweet. The simple gestures. The kind touch. I remember those too. How you listen, and listen well. How you watch to try to gauge my moods. How you're sensitive. How you're helpful. Never think I forget. I remember.

And it's painful, either way.

It's you I've grown to love. Your faults and your strengths. It makes you, you. And I wouldn't change how you are or who you are. No one's perfect after all.

But I'm also a woman. And after all that has happened, I know it's impossible to change a situation that seems futile. It takes two to tango. There's only so much a girl can do.

Just because I've grown to love you, just because you get under my skin, doesn't mean you feel the same way for me. And I know this, just as surely as I know the sky is blue on a bright, sunny day.

There's nothing I can do. That's why I chose to let you go. There's no point in grasping at straws. A man's a man after all. A man that doesn't want to stay never will. And what we're doing is dangerous. It's risky business. That's not a risk I want to take. Not anymore.

Is that why lately I've been thinking of you in the past tense?

I can't change your past. I can't promise you the future, either. That would be a promise I can't keep. And I don't make those. What I can give you is the here and now. It's called the Present for a reason. But whether or not you accept my gift and make the most of it is up to you.

I can take the horse to water, but I can't force the horse to drink.

I no longer want to know what it is you want from me. For me now, any answer you give me now no longer matters. It's irrelevant now.

I hope and expect nothing from you now.

Except, perhaps, that you grow up someone you yourself can be proud of. That you take pride in yourself and in what you do. That you see the world around you, and know that you have within yourself, the control and the power to change your own situation, and the situation of those around you.

Not the world, not even the richest, or most powerful men in the world could do that, but your own little community. Your friends, your family, your colleagues, maybe, to start with.

That it's ok to be frightened. It's not fear the holds us back, but the fear to be frightened. The fear to feel.

It's also ok to fail. Failure never brought anyone down. It's not picking yourself up again that's a mistake. We learnt to walk, as children, by falling down over and over again. It's the same as adults.

It's also ok to be sad. If we never experience bitterness, how would we know the taste of sweetness when it comes to us?

You're, perhaps, on the threshold of manhood. Not a boy, not yet a man. What holds you back from taking full control of your life? From taking that final step into manhood? From grasping fully the power that manhood can bring you? Added responsiblity? Responsibility comes to you, whether you choose it or not. Refusing it only bungles up your life even more.

After all, who doesn't know the famous quote on power and responsility?
"With great power, comes great responsibility."

You'll realise how true it is in due time. Just as you'll realise how avoiding that responsibility, and hence, that power does nobody much good.

You say you want me to be happy. You want to make me happy. Yes, I'm happy when I'm with you, but my world would not crumble without you in it.

You can't give me what I want. Or maybe you don't want to. And that's ok, too. I have no intention to make you do what you don't want to do.

Maybe you don't know either, and can't be bothered to ask.

You think yourself beneath me. You think I think you beneath me. You've no idea how much that hurt. I view no man as above me. There are plenty beneath me, but there are some I view as equal. You're one of those. It had never crossed my mind to think of you as beneath me. If I thought of you that way, why would I choose to waste my time and affections on someone beneath me?

You probably never realised how much you've hurt my feelings.

I'm not sure I trust you fully any longer. Things have changed. It's pointless to pretend that it hasn't. In fact, things have been slowly changing for awhile, now. Choosing not to see it, and pretending it hasn't been happening is probably what drove a wedge between us.

I don't want that anymore. You're free to go. Whenever you want. Only one thing I ask of you. To let me know when you want to move on. To let me know to my face. To not taper off slowly, pretending you're too busy, and ultimately no longer see each other that way.

At least have the courtesy to let me know to my face, like a man to a woman, that you want to go. And likewise, I'd afford you the same courtesy, like a woman to a man, to go without a fuss.

My world wouldn't crumble without you in it. But your presence did make a difference. I was happy. But as we all know, happiness doesn't last forever.

You. I wouldn't change you. I wouldn't change this. But it's got to end sometime. Better now than later.

And I hope you're happy. I hope you'll be happy enough times in your life to enjoy it fully. Even if we become strangers. Even if we don't speak to each other anymore. I'll always hope you have the best things life has to offer. Good health, a satisfying job, the love of a lifetime, and a family of your own. Such things fills you, stretches you. Gives you opportunities for growth as a person. I will always wish you well.

For what it's worth, even if we become strangers, I'm glad you were part of me. My life.

No matter how brief. No matter how unsettling. No matter the outcome, whatever it may be.

I wouldn't change anything. Wouldn't wish to erase it anymore. I'll remember.

What Oprah Said About Men

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Stop making excuses for a man and his behaviour.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Always have your own set of friends separate from his.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nostalgia and a Former Student

Nostalgia and a Former Student

Saturday, 31.03.2007. 0130hours.

A former student of mine is gonna go to Columbia to do some goodness-knows-what engineering or other (sorry, Manda, it's just totally beyond my biological ken) and I just found out today when she told me to go read her blog =) Well.... Congrats, Manda! Very well done.

I'm old. SOOOOOOOooooooo OLD. When I taught her, I was a fresh-faced 20 year old just out of Form 6. They thought I looked 16. They knew my friends, or acquaintances from my batch. So-and-so's brother. So-and-so's sister.

Now she's entering uni. And I'm old. Now I know why I don't want to be a teacher. You're reminded annually of how old you are.

I would never have thought I'd be where I am, would've seen what I have, would've gone through the things I've gone through. Would've held on so long. Or lost so much. Would've been here now. Right here. Right now. Would've been so blessed. Would've been so hurt.

I could never imagine.

I've grown so much, so quickly. I am no longer the fresh-faced Ms. *****. Could never go back to that.

How things have changed. And yet how they've stayed the same.

Was it worth it? The steep, painful, pivotal learning curve since 2001? I hope so. Dare I think so? YES.

2 years from now, I'd be making this very selfsame assessment of how I am now.

Everything happens for a reason. It has to.

I have to stop mourning, and start living. Relapses are common, but the effort to overcome it shouldn't be futile.

Life is after all, precious. And time is so short. And unlike Agent 007, I only have one shot at it =). Life is unfair, too, but so's a lot of the best things in life.

p/s: Love ya, Manda! Congrats! Your Form 1 BM teacher who loves men with great bods is awfully proud of you! Hugs!!

p/p/s: No angpaos for you and 1A1 2001 (if you bring the truckload of kiddos) when you visit unless you find me an able-bodied Yankee hunk to marry :P and have dark-haired blue-eyed cherubs with. No blonds, thank you. :D Cikgu tak minat budaya kuning... Hehe....

Chinese New Year

Chinese New Year

Spent it thinking. And missing home.

I miss:

1) My family. The family gatherings at my house, though Dad's one of the younger sons. The raucous laughter at the dinner table, the gambling, the teasing, the fussing over food.

2) My friends. Geez, I haven't met them for ages.

3) The food. Need I say more? Fried prawns. Angzhao pork. Stewed pork trotters in black soysauce. Steamed fish Teochew style. Stewed duck in spices. Vegetables cooked just right. And much much more. Dammit.

4) The smell of gunpowder. Firecrackers, man. Ask my friend Jo about where to get the longest firecrackers, and he'd tell ya. Hehehe.... It's Kuching. What's CNY without the firecrackers?

5) The visiting. Last year when I stopped, we'd done 13 houses from 10-4. I wonder what's this year's record? :P

I MISS CNY. I miss home. This is the FIRST time since 2001 that I've ever felt homesick. Shit....