while i've been away.....

was away at a WoW house... where all the comps are always in fully-utilised mode, so i didn't have much of a chance to blog despite my wanting to write about several things.

things are in full swing now that i'm back at work (:() but i still really wanna blog about the horny politician.

so an em-ian minister pulls a clinton.... and is considered a HERO cos he 'apologises' about it in public.... though how it's called an apology is beyond me.

what about it irks me?

statements such as 'she is a PERSONAL FRIEND' (hohoho) and 'unsure whether it was old or new'... right....
and his 'next course of action' has yet to be decided: 'I will think about it after meeting the press.' (and fucking 'em female press ppl silly? they're all personal friends)

and then the police are coming down on those who own/distribute the DVD.... HUH?? it's an offense... right...

here's the thing: if he were an opp leader, he'd be crucified downside up by now. and subject to all forms of verbal and what-not abuse on his character...

and really now, his being recorded fucking a 'personal friend' silly should be ample proof of a lack of moral credibility, and he should step down from politics gracefully.

even Clinton would probably have done so if such proof were circulated around the US of A, in, say, Arkansas.

in all seriousness, my bitterness with the ruling team aside:
i'm not saying it's right to invade one's privacy with recordings and such... it IS. but would there be such a crackdown and hue-and-cry on the invasion of privacy if it were, say, an artiste? or just an ordinary person like you or me? or if it were an opposition leader?

yes, temptations abound. perhaps the marriage has long been dead.... but he is STILL married. is it more right for him to maintain his marriage for the sake of posterity (and because it clouds the eyes of the public, therefore, making it easier to enter politics) and then fuck 'personal friends', or 'not-so-personal friends', rather than get a divorce and fuck 'friends' as a bachelor?

it's one thing to be a single man with a fuckbuddy. quite another to be a married/unavailable man with a fuckbuddy.

if you're a confirmed bachelor/bachelorette who doesn't pretend to want a relationship/emotional entanglement, it's a completely different ballgame than a man or woman who has ties that bind.

yes, he may be a good politician, leader of the people, one who does the duties of his office faithfully. perhaps. but betrayal of trust is betrayal of trust. if he were a good politician, etc. etc. then his error in judgment is one the people of his constituency as well as himself has to pay heavily for. which is very very sad... because in all fairness, he HAS been a good Minister of Health, in my opinion.

but fair is fair. pay for his error he has to. and firstly, he has a lot to make up for. to his wife and children, most of all, if they still mean a lot to him. if his marriage has long been over, then it's perhaps about time he stop the farce and file for divorce. if said 'personal friend' is someone he has long wanted to marry, then do so. it's better than living a lie. and lying to the public.

whether it were just a fling, or an emotional entanglement, is BESIDE THE POINT. it doesn't make his behaviour any more RIGHT. in fact, an emotional entanglement, makes it even sadder. because the poor woman AS WELL AS his poor wife has to suffer in silence for such a LOOOOONNNNGGGGG time. how idiot politicians interviewed in the papers (http://thestar.com.my/news/story.asp?file=/2008/1/6/focus/19931882&sec=focus) can make one less 'sinful' than the other just shows how SHALLOW and SUPERFICIAL some people are. and how they hold DOUBLE STANDARDS for different groups of people.

yes, after marriage, you may still meet another man or woman that you fancy. but is it RIGHT to pursue both at the same time? marriage is a CHOICE. it is a COMMITMENT. it means choosing to fuck one vagina or one penis for the rest of your fucking life (pun intended). it means keeping yourself emotionally, mentally and physically LOYAL to ONE PERSON until you die (or the marriage gets dissolved). it means RESPONSIBILITY and ACCOUNTABILITY.

like a job: if you're working for someone, you may still find another job that you fancy. should you pursue both at the same time too? certainly not. you WOULD get fired. and you WOULD receive disciplinary action. but in marriage it's ok? shouldn't you suffer the same fate? isn't a person's tie to another person more important than a person's tie to a job? both are COMMITMENTS. why is one less important than another?

in an ordinary citizen, such behaviour is wrong. ordinary people suffer censure for it. in a politician holding office, does that make it OK? certainly not. perhaps we should make all politicians who say stupid things like that step down as well. because i'm deeply ashamed to hear such idiocy coming out of the mouths of our elected MPs.

but in all sarcasm for the ruling team:
perhaps i should join the party too, so i could fuck around with 20 year-old male gigolos at 50 and call them personal friends. and then still arrogantly say that i'm unsure about how old the tape was, just so ppl will think i 'masih bocor' at 50.

seriously. this place is going steadily downhill. it makes me sick.

the self-aggrandizement and egocentricity of emian politics and politicians sickens me. this just epitomises such disgustingly low-life behaviour.

and the datin.... what the fuck? 'trying to pull a hillary?' was the first thing i told the boy when i read the papers.

i swear by God's footstool and by the heavens, if the boy ever pulls a 'datuk CSL' on me, i'd:
a) call the courts on him and get him crucified.
b) empty his savings and make them MINE.
c) tie him up to a chair next to his own bbq pit, build a slow fire, cut up his stomach with a katana (yes, trust me, i know ppl who collects swords as a hobby), pull out his intestines slowly and start slowly roasting it over the slow fire (while he's still alive, yes...) while:
d) getting several HUGE-ASS STEROID-ADDICTED IRON-PUMPERS in gimp-suits to gang-rape his ass..
e) get all my friends to make a recording of said unwilling homosexual orgy
f) distribute said recording for FREE
g) carve some curses into his sorry penis with a blunt apparatus
h) castrate said sorry penis with said bloody blunt apparatus
i) by the time all that is done, if he isn't dead yet, he'd wish he was.

i know he reads my blog :P and i know that the above was a resurrection of my coldly graphic male-bashing a la Sixth Form. yes, i knew precisely why most guys feared me. i know. there's prime example there. well, i don't care. all the better for him to know that he shouldn't humiliate and cross me that way unless he wants to be tortured and killed slowly and painfully and even more humiliatingly.

but he's an intelligent man :D with a past of his own. i'm sure he knows better ;)

Insomnia

movement... in the depths of my subconscious.

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

movement... restlessness. sleeplessness.

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

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

the answer's on the calendar.

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

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

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

i guess this explains it best:

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

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

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

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

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

~Jordin Sparks, Tattoo~

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

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

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

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

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

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

~Fuel, Hemmorhage~

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

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

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

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

~Stars, Your Ex-Lover Is Dead~

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

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

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

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

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

and i miss you. terribly.

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

and i miss you. terribly.

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

and this christmas, words fail me.

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

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

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

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

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

~Janis Gott, Big Red Christmas Bow~

and again... i miss you. terribly.

Fragments

Sometimes the greatest journey is the distance between two people. Sometimes it's the distance between oneself and his emotions. And sometimes it's between a fallen one and salvation.

**

Have you ever had one of those moments, when all you wanted to do was disappear? Just. Disappear. Into the swirling, churning vortex of oblivion. Get lost in a city of billions. Drown in a sea of faces. Hide in the darkest shadows. Be common. Be nothing. Faceless. Nameless. Soulless. Nothingness.

**

Endless: Destiny, Death, Dream, Desire, Despair, Delirium, Destruction. Neil Gaiman is a genius. Dark, disturbing, but a genius nonetheless.

**

Boundaries...
At some point you have to make a decision.
Boundaries don't keep other people out.
They fence you in. Life's messy.
That's how we're made.
So you can waste your lives drawing lines,
Or you can live your life crossing them.

There was a time I related so well with some of the lines from Grey's Anatomy.

I'd rather live my life building bridges rather than erecting walls.... so explain to me why at times I feel an overwhelming need to build up my defenses. I'm not into attacking, most times I prefer to be left alone. But that never really works. So to avoid being completely crushed, I've always had to be constantly cautious, even defensive. And when I let down my guard occasionally, experience has taught me that it is, more often than not, a very bad move. So over and over again, after each crushing defeat, the defenses go up, higher with each subsequent time, faster in its rebuilding, thicker and stronger. And then up go the armaments.

I wish this weren't so. But tell me, how do I balance self-preservation and building bridges? Perhaps someday I'd have my answer that's out of the box. But for now, it's a terrible quandary.

**

I'm guessing it's either make it, or break it.

Mourning and Healing

this was meant to be blogged earlier. because it was something that happened over the weekend. but i only managed to find some time now.

sometimes the biggest epiphanies hits you between the eyes when you least expect it to.

spent the wee hours of sunday crying quietly in bed.

spent saturday night out celebrating a good buddy's birthday, ex-housemates from 'the apartment'. the scandalous apartment. the one with booze parties and things that happen with booze parties. u get the picture.

there's something i wanna say to someone who shared that table that saturday night.

**

thank you. i took up that dare because i needed to feel like a woman again. because i needed to heal.

no, i didn't realise it then. all i felt then was depression, and pain suppressed so deeply in me, it took all i had to not go back to the darkness i thought i had left behind when i moved out.

of course, you probably didn't realise i was doing that. how could you, when i barely realised it myself?

i'm not even sure anyone at that booze party realise the fragile mask i had put on. the anger and frustration behind the smile. the mask-it was pure china, all of it.

there were signs, though, i normally don't start a drinking session by sculling whiskey neat, immediately. shot after shot of it. special brew, to boot. i like to start my drinking session slow and easy, normally.

i wonder if anyone noticed the craziness in my eyes. then again, i was wearing my glasses. it was dark. and i act crazy all the time. add to that the fact that everyone was trying to knock themselves out. no, i guess not.

i'm sorry if knowing this now would make you feel used. i don't mean it to. i didn't even realise it then. i suppose we'd always be teased about it. which is fine by me. i did ask for it by taking up your challenge. after all... i was single then, and so were you. you liked it then, and so did i.

and though i suspect you too, were harbouring your own dirty little depressing secret, it was still no excuse.

i doubt you know what you did for me. how broken i was inside then. how i curled myself up into a little ball every night as i wrapped myself around the middle in the protective foetal position while i sobbed myself to sleep. how i hated what i did, what had happened, what i had allowed myself to happen, how i allowed it to happen, how i allowed him to treat me the way he did, who i was.

how i felt the secrets and lies and deceit were too much for me to bear, and the burden of holding it was crushing me underneath it's weight. how i felt i could speak to no one, and the loneliness of that was choking me. how i feared for my own sanity, and the depression was so dark, holding me in it's visceral grip, i felt i could never set myself free.

i lost perspective. i lost confidence. i lost my sense of self. i lost sight. i lost sense. i lost hearing. i lost touch. with myself. with reality. self-preservation. self-worth. self-confidence. all slowly came crumbling down in a span of several ugly months.

yet i have no regrets. i'm a success. it's only a failure, only a regret if i never learnt from it. i did. i still do. it was hard-fought, hard-earned, and terribly pricey, but i came out a victor at the end. battered, bruised, left for dead, but i survived. i made it, and i'm stronger, and happier, and, hopefully, wiser.

so i do have to thank you for helping me heal... i suppose the moment i sculled that shot, and took your hand to get on that balcony, i made a conscious decision to start forgetting and start healing. quick. who better to make me feel like a sexpot again than one known for making women quiver within a 30-mile radius? after having had my face rubbed into horse manure, over and over again, it was high time to wipe the tears, wash myself, put on my best clothes and sexiest strut and have me some sexytime.

and it worked. better than i myself thought. it was a confidence-booster. it was sewing up old hurts and storing them away. it was knowing i still have it in me to make a man perk up and take notice. i needed that, and you gave it to me, with or without knowing you did it.

and although things almost got out of hand, i'm glad things didn't get further than they did, though. it shouldn't, and it didn't. so let's just keep what happened there where it is. i wouldn't change what happened on the merit of what i got out of it. i consider it a gift, and i thank you for it.

i know you liked it as much, but i sure hope it wasn't a regret. we've both moved on from there, after all.

like they say: all's well that end's well. que sera sera.

high school

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

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

1. band practice (STS band rawked!)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

14. choral speaking :P

15. the colourful teachers.

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

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

these are mine that weren't mentioned:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

24. the pencil family.

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

26. creating ridiculous stories.

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

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

29. wearing shorts underneath our pinafores.

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

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

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

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

early morning breaking news

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

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

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

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

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

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

to explain my reactions:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Pacemaker

Thursday, 25.10.2007. 2151 hours.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Asphyxiated Exhibit

Thursday, 25.10.2007. 1838 hours.

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

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

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

I'm unused to unsolicited attention.

First by my friends, then by his friends.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No one owns the market on insecurities.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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?

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. ;)

Men are like Shoes.....

I have a friend.

She has little feet.

She has bought herself 3 pairs of vinyl finished white peeptoe heels of varying heel heights because she wants to find that perfect white pair.....

Who wants white heels in size 3 1/2? E-mail me. She can't use it anyway :P She can't walk in them.

I have learnt, from her shoe-buying habits that...

She searches for the perfect shoes like she searches for the perfect man.

1. Look for cheaper ones first.

2. Try them out then. If there isn't a match, don't bother.

3. If it's ok ok, can do lah. Try to make it fit as best as possible. Try to make it work. (The amount of money she spent on Scholl paddings probably cost more than the shoes now....) If after doing everything, and trying a couple of times more (i.e. 2-3 times, both for shoes, and for men), it still doesn't work, discard. Get new one.

4. Sometimes you find one that fits you perfectly, it'd cost you a lot, though. But it'd be SOOOOO worth it.

Conclusion? Men are like shoes.....

1. The cheap ones wear out fast. And they don't fit very well.

2. The amount of padding and effort used to make it as comfy as possible to fit you isn't worth it, and isn't going to work long term. In fact, it's only going to cost you more.

3. So put the investment and the effort in one that's worth it, one that fits you best.

4. It costs you initially, but it lasts for years and years, and it only gets better with age. It's a long term investment that brings better returns with time.

As for the Miss I know above? She now has shoes she's only worn less than 5 times, less than 5 hours each time. Anyone with size 3 1/2 (36) feet and looking for white peeptoes, let me know. Maybe you can get it from her at a discounted price. :P

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

IMHO, the DUMBEREST statement ever.

Wednesday. 13.06.2007. 2331 hours.

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

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

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

A huge bulk of it comes from my brother.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now here's the statement:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Burn Out

I wonder if I'm burning out.

It's frightening when friends start coming to you for Aunt Agony advice and you're giving them like your mom would give it to you.

And you catch yourself saying all these, and you wonder: Shit.... I'm tired. I'm jaded. I'm old. I shouldn't be thinking like this. Not at this age.

When friends start calling you at 0100 hours to ask for advice about their jackass boyfriends, and you can give an almost immediate response... doesn't that mean you're getting waaayyy too old for your age?

When you begin to think that men should be careful, cos they just might get extinct, being replaced by aluminium stepladders, and electronic lawn-mowers (which they created cos they were too lazy to help out their womenfolk), dildos in a variety of sizes, shapes, colours and functions (which they created cos they would not allow their women to do any other dick but their own, or a silicone one. It's the old double standard, folks. Men sleep around, he's DA MAN. Women sleep around, she's a whore.), and sperm banks and fertility methods like IVF and ICSI (cos a man wants HIS baby. HIS. Not anyone else's.), you wonder if you're frighteningly irreverent when it comes to the common concept of family and relationships.

When you begin to think that you want them even less than you need them, and you already need nothing out of them, even your very jaded friend goes: Ouch! at that statement.

When you start to feel that guys are more trouble than they're worth, you really wonder if you're turning too cynical.

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 Y chromosome Pt. 2, twisted relationships, marriages, and that kinda shit.

Monday, 11.06.2007. 1038 hours.

today, i was told that yet another friend is getting married. and i'm being invited. well, yay, can u feel my enthusiasm here?

well, lookie here. i'm not being a wet blanket. if the couple is realistically happy, yes, i'll be the first to send up my congratulations. i'll be genuinely happy. but THIS one... well, i'm not too thrilled. it'd be a waste of my angpao money.

i've seen my fair share, and been in my fair share, of twisted relationships.

and i can honestly say, i hate them.

let me give some real life experiences here. since it's the best way to describe anything, really. analogies. stories.

Scenario A

i know a guy. he's about 29/30. his best friend happens to be a pretty good friend of mine. let's call him Mr. A. after he broke up with, as he calls her, 'the girl he almost married', he ended up with Ms. Z.

she doesn't click too well with all his friends, doesn't really like his parents, but is very VERY nice in front of them. (well, duhhh... i also know how to act, right?) he whines to his friends about her, and the problems they have, so his friends say: break up with her laaa... does he listen? no. he thinks he can't find anyone better. so they continue their sad, twisted relationship.

ultimately, relationships either move forward or get waylaid, so the next logical move was to get married. his friends were against it, but he insisted: my parents like her. she'll change. we might be happy together. (uh-oh! 'might' is never good when paired with 'be happy together') so he married her. his friends wash their hands off of him. kinda. i mean, what can you do when someone doesn't wanna listen, yes? you can lead the horse to water, but you can't force the horse to drink.

within months they were fighting, and in the end, he moved out of the apartment they shared. now they're separated, pending a divorce. which isn't gonna be easy. takes years, and a lot of lawyers' fees.

what to say?

Scenario B

now here's an even better one.

let's call the guy Mr. B, and the girlfriend Ms. Y. now Ms. Y was fucking around with her ex boyfriend while her ex was seeing someone else. then, she got together with Mr. B. Mr. B knows she was doing the horizontal tango with her ex while he was seeing someone else, by the way. she did it rather publicly.

then within the first few months of their becoming a couple, Mr. B caught Ms. Y getting all pretzel-ly with her ex again. When confronted, she says they were 'just talking.' (of course! one organ was talking to another.)

but with all the begging and tears and sorries from both Ms. Y and her ex, he thought: ok, why not? except that he doesn't call, they do it LDR, and when they meet, they plan ahead. and no, they didn't sleep together for a couple of years.

he's rude to her, she attempts to control him. he goes out with other girls behind her back, but thinks she doesn't dare do the same. hmmm.... rewind her very open fucking of her ex-bf while he was seeing someone else. rewind the LDR and his not being too concerned when she calls or how often she does it. (interesting. somehow i'm sceptical.)

then Mr. B sleeps with someone else, in i deduce, a final attempt to break out of the relationship, and tells Ms. Y about it. Ms. Y says she has suspected for awhile, starts crying and then says, most bogglingly: 'i still love you, but not today...' strange.

what i also find even MORE odd is the fact that despite doing a course that doesn't require being in a hub of any particular profession, meaning she could work any damn where she wants, she chooses to stay where her ex-boyfriends are, and not where her boyfriend is.

i mean, seriously, how serious can a relationship that is based entirely on LDR can be? if she really wants/loves her boyfriend, is truly sorry she slept with her ex within a few months of a brand new one, and is really serious about making up for it, and keeping it alive, won't she want to be where he is? don't expect him to go to where u are. go to where he is, no? so why choose to stay far far away from him, when she could most certainly work where he is? yet another hmmm.....

now, when Ms. Y pushes Mr. B concerning the topic of marriage, he gets all pimply... then when asked: 'so do you love her?' there's a loooonnnnnggggg awkward pause, and then: 'maybe with time and patience, we'd be happy.' pressed again: 'do you love her?' again a loooong pause: 'i think so...' a third time, was given the best answer: 'she's..... there....' (riiiiight-oooo!!)

that's just the perfect recipe for a most successful marriage. and Mr. B doesn't want children with Ms. Y either.

again: what to say?

Scenario C

there's a girl. let's call her Ms. C. 26, successful engineer paid plenty of money, quite a beautiful woman. once upon a time, she could have had her pick of men in her hometown. except that, due to her arrogance, she made quite a name for herself.

so a few years back, she met an arrogant, pompous ass of a singaporean new boyfriend, whom she couldn't wait to show her girlfriends. apparently he earns an income within the 'upper tax bracket' (and i quote him verbatim from CNY 2006). her friends didn't think much of him at first sight. pompous, doesn't bother to be friendly at all, condescending. yes, very good way of making an impression.

he gets all riled when an old friend (guy) from school days puts a friendly hand on her shoulder to say 'hi'. he tells her she should've brushed the guy's hands off... !!! (wtf! mcp alert!)

when he gets jealous/angry/etc. she has to drive over to beg him to forgive her and stop sulking. ok....

now her mom is not too well, and wants to see her daughter married off. she's having problems with her in-laws, and her fiance isn't doing a single thing to help. her mother in-law demands a child within the first year of marriage. or else....

so she complains to her girlfriend. and her girlfriend calls daily to ask her if she's sure she wants to marry this particular mean (i mean, man. typo :P)

when asked if she loves him, she goes: mmm.... (long awkward pause) he's good to me.... riiiiiight......

honey, i'm good to her toooooooooo...... *bangs head against wall* MARRRRYYYYYYY MMMEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

**
see, i really don't get it. none of the people involved in all 3 scenarios are particularly ugly. well, they may be plain and not very good-looking, except for Ms. C, but still! why stay in a twisted relationship when you can find someone else who makes you happier? so both of you can actually be happy? the longer it goes on, the more painful it becomes. it's:

1. tiresome
2. troublesome
3. time-wasting
4. expensive
5. painful

for more than just the parties concerned. their friends have to hear their whining (1,2,3,4,5), their friends have to spend the effort trying to advise (1,2,3,4,5). their friends have to stand at the sides and watch, despite their best efforts to stop a massive tragedy from happening, them make the START of the BIGGEST MISTAKE of their lives (1,2,5,5,5,5,5). u think that's not painful to watch?

i have another friend, who was much luckier. she had parents in-law who were also frightful, but at least she had a husband who loved her. truly. when she wanted to break it off and go for a painful divorce, now, HER friends advised her otherwise: Are u sure? He's a good man. he stood by her. he stood up to his parents FOR her. he supported her. NOW THAT is a MAN. now THAT is a man worth standing by. he's a man worth WAITING for.

see, if i'm going to spend the rest of my life with u, go through sickness and health with u, for richer, for poorer, then at least let it be worth my effort. at least let it be worth my heartbreak. at least let it be worth my pain. worth my time. worth the rest of my life.

that man LOVED her. standing up to his parents FOR her was the ultimate test of his maturity and his devotion. now if SHE does something stupid, HER friends would give her a mouthful.

those 3 scenarios up there, which one of them can u feel the love? they all leave me graveyard-cold. explain to me again, which of the above is actually a relationship? i call it twisted and sad. and so very, very cold.

when Mr. A told his friends he was separating, none of them were surprised. when i was told about it, all i could think of to say was: oh... finally la. i gave them 1 1/2 years. tops.

u see, going out together and living together (not as housemates, but as a couple) are totally different. i can sit and talk to my housemates and not really care what happens to them. or i can go out with some friends and be really close, and yet know that there is absolutely no way we can actually live together.

living together as two separate entities sharing lives takes compatibility as much as complementariness.

it isn't as simple as 1+1=2.

i feel sorry for the parents. watching your children go through an ugly divorce cannot be easy. going through a divorce takes years so the courts can determine that it truly is irreconcilable differences. those years of lawyers' fees have got to be some hefty amount. arguing about property cannot be easy.

so explain to me again, why would people put themselves in such a horrendous situation?

Mr. B and Ms. Y might get married forever, though.

the indifference might be enough.

they can just be housemates married to each other. go to work, come home, fuck, grunt, turn over, sleep, wake up, go to work again.

after all, all Mr. B is aiming for is a dysfunctional marriage where both partners just do what they're supposed to, to get on with their lives.

he isn't looking for a life partner and a wife. he's aiming for a surrogate mother.

until and unless, of course, Ms. Y decides, in an attempt to get her then-husband's attention, to drop the Pill, and go against his wishes to not have children with her, and get pregnant.

then he'd stay by her side, but blame her for tying him down, and tell her she's gotten fat and ugly due to pregnancy. a likely scenario, considering that he can be cruel and a coward like that.

because isn't he already cruel and a coward now? the only reason he's with her, is because she's there. and she's with him because he's there, too.

Ms. C would suffer. but she might never go through a divorce. she likes appearances way too much. but she'd suffer, and she'd whine, and her friends would suffer, listening to her.

all of these just makes me want to vomit blood out of disgust. :(

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.

Training, Dreams, Accountability

Sunday, 22.04.2007. 2358 hours.

Had training workshop yesterday. Something interesting came up in training. Big boss was saying that psychologically our value and belief systems could help us progress, or serve as limitations to hinder our growth.

I should list 10 of my values (and find out why I place value on these) and see if they limit or help me in my progress. I should also note if there is a shift in my value system.

I've been wondering about this of late myself. Why did I do what I did? Is there anything in my beliefs that limit me? Are my principles holding me back? Should I discard/ Have I discarded my values?

There's someone I know, whose approach to life saddens me. But is he right? Is he happy with where he is, and where he's going? Or is it just that he's never really given much thought to it?

I don't know, really. Let's see if BB's approach would help me find some answers. About myself:

Values:

1. Trust
2. Honesty
3. Reliability
4. Loyalty
5. Integrity
6. Responsibility
7. Accountability
8. Filial piety
9. Wisdom
10. Maturity
11. Understanding
12. Gentleness
13. Patience
14. Passion
15. Humility

Well, I'm not sure it helps. But, what the hell.

These are values I find important, which I seek to practise, and instil in myself, and I look for in others. These are values that, when I break them, I find myself breaking down as well.

Are these impeding my growth as a person? Limitting me in my search for success and happiness? Stopping me from holding on to things and people? Do these serve me? Or a greater purpose?

I slept in snatches last night. For the first time in a long time, I dreamt. Vivid, clear images. People I know. Fights. Children. A story. I couldn't remember it, except for the last thing before I woke to full consciousness. A drawing taped to a fridge:

Learn to live together.

I know not what it means. Seems I know very little of what things mean lately. I suppose it'd come to me eventually.

Little Boss remarked that I'm not my usual bubbly self. And yesterday, S mentioned the same to me. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. We're close enough, he's a man who notices things.
S: You ok, dear? You don't seem yourself. Everything alright?
N: Huh? What do you mean? I'm fine.
S: You sure? You just don't seem to be your usual bubbly self.
N: I need food. Hungry.
S: Ok...

S gave me a once-over and left it at that. That's one thing I like about him. He doesn't push me to give answers I don't want to give.

Was it that obvious, though? He says I've lost weight again. I know that, but I attributed it to work.

But now that I'm haemorrhaging again, I wonder if there's more to it.

Sleepless nights. My job's been keeping me busy. I get home exhausted and fall into bed. And sleep a dreamless slumber, most nights. I'm glad for it.

I feel like an empty well, lately. Drained, run dry. The source has stopped producing water, but water keeps getting drawn out of me till there's nothing left to give. That's how I feel. Drained, empty, used up. Weary and exhausted. Physically, emotionally, spiritually, mentally. I feel it to my bones.

Perhaps I hadn't had time to fully come to terms with what happened last. Everything happened so rapidly. And now this. It's all come together. It's like two constructive wave forms integrating. And I'm getting a double whammy.

More than twice in shock and force.

I wish I could just take off and go away alone for some alone time to search, reflect and meditate. To some retreat. Or to go home to be pampered. And scolded and fussed over. I am getting homesick.

But not now I can't. Too many responsibilities. The projects have all come in. It's a busy time.

Accountability. It's something I know. I'll have to put that off awhile.

Working myself to the ground seems the next best option for now.

**
24.04.2007. 0926 hours.

I asked Anne if it were so. She was among the few that has seen me recently. She said there seems to be some bitterness and frustration in me. I was quite shocked. I suppose it should be expected, but my friends didn't deserve the brunt of my frustration. This is my issue. My fight.

This is my cross to carry. My friends shouldn't have to shoulder my bitterness, or frustration or acute disappointment. It has to stop. It stops here. I can't. I wouldn't continue to propagate the vicious cycle. The chain of disrespect and mistrust and infidelity.

It goes against everything I believe in. Every goodness I hold dear.