Obligations!

I've always hated being tied down, in all senses of the word. I've always loved being to do whatever I want to do, the way I want to do it, and whenever I want to do it. All my life I've fighted against any attempts to control or to fit me into a box. Sometimes even at my own peril.

As a child, I refused to engage in any activities that will 'improve' me. I refused to be one of those kids who were forced by their parents to do things they didn't want to do, so the parents will have 'face'. So I instinctively refused anything my parents suggested, even when it was something I liked. As a teenager, I was very rebellious. I refused to let my parents know my whereabouts and whom I was hanging out with although I myself acknowledged that as the child of my parents, I should have at least the decency to do that. And growing up and dating, I never let my boyfriends know me longer than 6 months. I never allow anybody to be too nice to me in case I feel obligated about returning any favours. (Hmm! Maybe that explains my sometimes excessive generousity towards my friends! After all, I can't really be such a nice person can I?) At work, I make sure I give back to the company what is due to them, in hard work and contributions to the job.

I hate being obligated. It means I have to do the things I don't want to do, all because I owe it to the person. It frustrates me sometimes to be have to be nice and concillatory even though I'll love to just bite the person and scream in his or her face. Obligation also means committment. And committment also means having to stay when you feel like walking out the door. It also means having to stay and work even though all you want to do is travel the world and the seven seas. It means being friends with people whom you love, but whom you also sometimes hate.

Obligations are there for the long run, whether I like it or not. I've got my obligations to my family, to make sure that my family is taken care of, and comes to no harm. I've got obligations to my friends, to be decent to them, and not to hurt their feelings, even if they've hurt mine. I've got obligations to my work, to do the best that I possibly can despite what I feel about the job and the people who run the company. I've got my own personal obligations to myself, to not let my wildfulnes get in the way of doing the right thing by people.

However, despite my best efforts to be good, that streak of rebellion still surfaces every once in a while, no matter howI try to persuade myself out of it. I'm not quite sure why this inherent desire to be free from all things and all people is so very strong in me. It's not like I really have something to fight against for survival's sake. It's like a bottled-up resentment against the world and all it stands for breaking free inside me, and letting forth a river of wild, vile and violent behaviour towards the things and people around me, the poor things. Omigod, I sound like the devil's very own spawn.

Sometimes I wonder: am i inherently rotten inside me, but just beind held together by strictures and decorum so that people around me will not see the bad that is really me?

What happens when I can't sleep?

I couldn't sleep last night, possibly because of the copious amounts of coffee I drank during the day. But anyway, there I was, I couldn't sleep, and because I had nothing better to do, I started 'writing' my blog in my head. Needless to say, it's all gone to the wind though.

Anyway, just to excite you all my loyal fans, here's a peek of upcoming blog entries...
1. Top 10 Reasons Why I'd Like to be a Guy
2. What was I thinking? To be dating him?
3. Delusions I firmly hold on to

So, as they say on TV, stay tuned for more good stuff!

Desperate Housewives is getting booorring!

Remember all the hype that took place when Desperate Housewives first came out on our TV screens? All the advertisements, the rave reviews, the oohs and the ahhsss...Well, the first season is barely over, and I'm bored already. I didn't care enough to rush through my dinner so I could catch the show, missing 15 whole minutes of it. And during the show, I was half reading the papers, and half snacking. As you can tell, Desperate Housewives is no longer riveting, to me at least!

It's always the same old thing every time. Susan's constantly doing her on-off, should i-should i not thing with her plumber boyfriend. The mother (Oh my! I can't even remember her name!) is always revolving around her kids and her husband. Nothing new with Gabrielle either. And Mary Alice's voiceover is becoming extremely irritating. The only character that is remotely interesting is Bree and her anal-rentiveness. Oh dear, even talking about them bores me!

Well anyway, after that lousy irritating episode of Desperate Housewives, I switched to Friends on Channel 18. It was the episode where Chandler proposes to Monica. And you know what? Despite having watched that before, I still thought it was really sweet. Now that's what makes a good sitcome/movie/anything - you still enjoy it the 2nd or 3rd of 4th time you watch it! Desperate Housewives definitely not it! Maybe it's really for desperate housewives who need to pretend that house-wiving is a glamourous job. (Ohhh....I wonder whether I'll get sued for this! Hahahaha!)

I am a rock. I am an island.

Through the years, every once in a while, I'd feel like isolating myself from the rest of the world, and go live on a deserted island, all by myself. These moments come frequently thoughout my growing up years, and even into adulthood. And they frequently come at a time when the pressure I have to face is most intense.

I do think I have escapist tendencies. When the pressure becomes overwhelming, I do sometimes think of just dropping everything like a hot potato, and just make a run for it. (But of course I've never allowed myself to do that) When I am unhappy with my life, my grades, my work, the state of my relationships etc, I sometimes just shut my mind to what's happening to me, and to some other place, usually to my nice deserted island.

They say an escapist is a coward, and I guess I'll have to agree with that. Escapists are those who, unable to cope with the reality and pressures of life, escape in their minds to some fantasy place. Much as I hate to admit that, I am a coward. I hate coping with confrontations and difficulties and messy relatinship problems. I like a cushy life, where nothing bad or unpleasant happens. I am a coward.

The worst kind of pressure that I have to deal with concerns people. It's amazingly the amount of emotional wreckage that can take place, just dealing with one difficult human relationship. Multiply that by the number of people surrounding you at work, at home, in your social life, and you can imagine the amount of pressure you have to deal with if they all turn bersek on you at the same time. Add into the messy combination an individual without much tact and persuasive powers (I'm talking about myself here!), and you pretty much feel like you should just do everybody a favour, and get out of their hair, by migrating to some island. Now can you guess how I feel sometimes!

It's impossible to take people out of the equation though since they're everywhere. And I know I will continue to make the mistakes that I've always been making, the mistakes that suggest that I'm totally EQ-less! But I guess as long as I don't traumatise people's emotions for the rest of my life, and don't make too big a fool of myself, I guess I will not migrate anywhere yet. There's only so much escaping from reality one can do after all. I guess I'll just hang around, and try to learn to deal with people with more tact and sensitivity. And keep my fingers crossed that it'll get easier and more manageable as I grow older and hopefully wiser. And last but not least, I don't want to be a coward!

What are you like when you're alone?

In Life the other day, Teo Pau Lin wrote about not being to live with TV, or to be more precise, not being able to be alone for long periods of time without starting to feel antsy. So, what are you like when you're alone?

Agathe Christie, when she wrote using the alias Mary Westmacott, explored thid idea in one of her novels. Can't remember the name of the novel though (old age setting in!) Set in the times of old choo-choo trains, this middle-aged lady was supposed to travel from India back to England, and because of some train accident, she was marooned in the middle of nowhere for weeks, with no one but herself for company.

Being a normal human being like any of us, she set about finding things for herself to do. She read all the books she had on hand. She tried talking to the people around her, but she was obviously too boring to talk to, so they pretended to speak another language. ;p She wrote letters to everybody who probably hated the pompousness of her letters. She did everythng that she could possibly do, until she was left with nothing but her thoughts.

She had nothing but her thoughts. And there were only so many shallow superficial and entertaining thoughts one can think. And her thoughts sooned turned deeper, and into herself. All the things that have been pushed away on the pretext of 'busyness' all re-surfaced. She had been so busy getting herself involved in charities and activities and dinner parties, she never had the time to think. And now she had more than enough time on her hands to think. And she didn't like the things that she thought about.

All the time she thought she had been such a great mother to her children, she was actually a selfish manipulative mother who indirectly pushed her children out of the home with her bullying and her trying to control their lives. All the signs were there. But she refused to see them, much lest think about them. The husband who loved her so much, saw her change before his very eyes, from a warm-hearted and kind girl, into a controlling woman whom he couldn't love anymore. He was now in love with someone else, but he had too much principles to abandon his first love for his true love.

For the first time in her life, she finally could see herself for what she really is. She wanted to change, but at the end of the story, when she returned home, she slipped back again to her state of purposeful ignorance. It was too much to admit her faults and start all over again.

If I was stuck on a deserted island with nothing but my own thoughts, will I like what I find out about myself? Is my life so full of things happening that I have no time to think? Am I inexorably caught up in such a whirlpool of activities that I am even engaged in things I don't even like doing, with people I don't even like? Do I have time to stop, and stand and stare? Am I truly living my life, or am I just being pushed forward by the things and people around me?

Dare I face the truth of the questions I just asked? Am I willing to change or will I just continue letting myself be sucked into the abyss?

The Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind

When the movie "The Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind" came out in the cinemas, I knew that it was somethng I just had to go watch. Despite the fact that it had Jim Carry, who I absolutely cannot stand, in it, I knew that it was one of those all-time must-watch films, for me at least! And having said and thought all that, I didn't get to watch it, what with this and that.

But time heals all wounds, and after beating myself up over having missed the show for the next cople of months, I finally stopped all that self condemnation. Time inexorably went on, and I soon forgot ALL about it! But luck, as well as the way of TV re-runs, were on my side. I got to watch it, after many years, on the telly one fine afternoon, and it was even by pure luck that I chanced upon it!

For the uninitiated, Jum Carrey and Kate Winslet starred in it, as a couple very much in love, and very much having issues in their relationship. One fine day, they broke up, and we all know the pain of having to deal with the crap of a break-up, Kate decides to go for the entirely fictional procedure of having her memories erased. It went well obvioulsy. She forgot all about Jim Carrey, or whatever his name was in the film. Jim also decides to do the procedure too. And obviously dire as well as hilarious results came out of the whole thing.

I'm weak, and I can't remember the whole story exactly. But the gist of it all is, although those 2 managed to erase their memories of each other, the 'eternal sunshine' state of mind they were hoping to achieve did not happen. Because although the painful memories were gone, the heart still very much retains the emotions. Spotless minds do not make for a state of eternal sunshine in our souls.

So, about the movie. Well first of all, I absolutely loved it. The concept behind it.. Kate Winslet's talent. And Jim Carrey surprisingly has more talent that that of a face contortionist! Elijah Wood and Kristen Dunst. The twist at the end of the movie. It was a good movie. I walked away from the movie thinking, which was a mean feat.

But having said all that, it's true. There's no quick fix to the pain we have to go through in our lives. We all wish for quick pain relief whenever pain rears its ugly head, but the best and safest way for pain to go away, is to let time heal all emotions. It's a cliche I know, but it's just too true

I'm stuck already!

It's only been one miserable publihed entry, and I'm stuck already! This trying-to-write-again attempt is a more pathetic one that I imagined it will be. Shame shame! "Off with her head!" do I hear someone say?!

Quite recently, I'd started being very deliberate with my words. I'll actually think twice, and sometimes three times, before I venture to say anything. For those of you who've known me for yonks, that's so not me! I use to just shoot off my mouth even before a single thought has entered my brain for processing. I use to joke about how very new my brain is, because it's been hardly used. I guess that sort of thing is alright if one is young enough to be forgiven. But after a certain point in my life, when I've shot my mouth enough to get myself into loads of trouble, I've started to realise and value the importance of proper speech. Because unthinking and tactless speech can cause irrepairable damage. After one to many times of that happening, I've decided to not talk too much, for now anyway. Sometimes, the safest place for some of our verbal outbursts, is to leave them unsaid, and have them remain in our heads!

Sometimes it's the same thing when it comes to writing. Like the poor chap who got lambasted because some technical glitch caused his private blog entries to be shown to the whole world. (Frankly, I haven't even read his much-mentioned blog entry!)Talk about giving a dog a bad name and hanging it. Ok, he's admitably stupid, to have actually posted such racist remarks on his blog, even a private one. But I still feel sorry for him. I mean, for all I know, it may not even actually be what he really thinks! In this world of reality shows, it may just be his way of trying to entertain and getthing a few laughs out of his friend. I mean, if people are actually entertained by the likes of Temptation Island and the sometimes malicious reality shows where back-biting and betrayal's all part of the fun, why wouldn't they be entertained by some guy spouting smart-alecky racist remarks? It sure is a double-standards world that we live in!

Oh dear, I seemed to have waffled quite a bit in this entry. But bear with me people, it's merely my 2nd entry! It could get better as I progress, or I could just get crappier! Hahaha!!

It's time to start writing again!

I use to like writing. I write about anything and everything. I enjoyed putting words to thoughts, feelings, emotions, and just for the thrill of seeing the words come into being by the my very action of writing. It was my secondary school teacher that teach me to enjoy it. I was in Sec 2 or 3 and he was this ang moh bear-like creature who was a tramp when he lived in UK (or so he claims anyway!) English lessons were a riot, definitely not your typical, run-of-the-mill classes, where you write a composition about "The Day My Home Suffered a Black-out"! We did role-playing, and then wrote stories about the roles we played. One time I was Cinderella, who, contrary to popular belief, was lesbian, and married the handome prince only as a smoke screen. (Obviously, the glass slipper thing was a very clever ploy. After all, women shouldn't make the first move, although they can leave their glass slippers behind, so the guy seems like the desperate one!)

Writing was fun then. It was effortless. It was enjoyable. I'm not sure at which point in my life I started to hate the thought of it. Well, maybe it's work related. It IS stressful having to write copy for a client, not knowing whether it's good enough for mass reading. I use to write because I enjoyed reading my own writing. But the stress of having to submit copy that won't be laughed at - that's a whole new ball game altogether.

Writing also exposes you. There is no way you can write about something close to your heart, without having what you write show the kind of person you really are, which may be very different from our public persona. At the very point I stopped writing, I stopped living as a real person. I become a 'screensaver'; or to borrow another phrase "The lights were on, but nobody's home".

Well, we'll go into that again another time. It's pretty good that I've gotten so far in my 'writing' on my very first entry already. It's time to start writing again...