It's that time of the year again.
The time of frantic present-buying, of crazy and futile never-ending parties, the obligatory peace and goodwill wishes to all men....
It's the time when all the cynicism in me rises to the surface and threatens to drown all and sundry in its slimy green meanness and sarcasm.
It doesn't help that I never get nice presents during Christmas. (I know I'm being unreasonable in expecting nice presents when I go around proclaiming that I'm not getting anybody any presents, but it's just me to be so unreasonable what!)
But I suddenly realised that this year, out of the blue, I do have some very nice presents, and they come in the shape of people.
That's the thing about me. I'm like the Grinch of Christmas, and I've always managed to keep people at arm's length, for some strange reason or other. This year, I somehow changed my mind about myself, and decided to try to be nice, for once.
And the people that I've known, some for years, suddenly ceased to just be people, but they've become people I really really care about, the 'if I go out I'll actually look keep an eye open for things they'll like' type, and the 'really feel like spending money on them' type of care about.
It's just so wierd for me. Being slightly happier than my normal maniac depressive Christmas state, and actually having presents this Christmas. Because I now suddenly have friends.
Oohhh.. Presents...
Thursday, December 21, 2006
Friday, December 15, 2006
Surprise!
I realised that I talk a lot about people in my blog - about the people around me, people relationships, people problems, or simply just talking about myself, as a person.
And I realised how very interwoven are lives are with other people. Whether we like it or not, our lives are all about people. We live with people. Sometimes we live our lives for other people. We invest in people. We rely on, lean on, depend on people. We are influenced and affected by people.
People form the very basis of our lives. We need them. We want them. We can't do without them.
Unfortunately....
Or is it a fortunate thing?
I don't know. I can't quite make up my mind yet.
When I was younger, people relationships to me were so very simple and straight-forward. In fact, I had everything well-defined and worked out.
My best friend will be my childhood friend, and we'll grow up as best friends until the day we die. We will share anything and everything, and will live next to each other with our husbands and children.
Then I have other categories of friends who I categorise into geometric circles surrounding with me in the centre - they consist of the innermost circle friends, the inner circle friends, and finally the outer circle friends.
I will have one boyfriend who will eventually become my husband.
Life will be simple, because I had the job scope and description of the people in my lives are worked out.
But real life is never that simple and well-defined is it?
In real life, I had many good friends instead of one best friend.
My good friend became my boyfriend. Some of my boyfriends became my good friends, and some became people I don't want anything to do with as people. Others went from friends to boyfriends to enemies to boyfriends to enemies to boyfriends, and then, they just suddenly disappear.
I had colleagues becaming my good friends, and my good friends becoming my colleagues.
And then I had friends become strangers.
Really, with people, you never know what you're going to get. When you least expect it, a certain someone, from a certain somewhere, at a certain sometime, surprises you with that spark of friendship, and a spiritual, emotional, mental connection.
Here's to people, and surprises, and friendships...
Here's to W.E.L.O....
And I realised how very interwoven are lives are with other people. Whether we like it or not, our lives are all about people. We live with people. Sometimes we live our lives for other people. We invest in people. We rely on, lean on, depend on people. We are influenced and affected by people.
People form the very basis of our lives. We need them. We want them. We can't do without them.
Unfortunately....
Or is it a fortunate thing?
I don't know. I can't quite make up my mind yet.
When I was younger, people relationships to me were so very simple and straight-forward. In fact, I had everything well-defined and worked out.
My best friend will be my childhood friend, and we'll grow up as best friends until the day we die. We will share anything and everything, and will live next to each other with our husbands and children.
Then I have other categories of friends who I categorise into geometric circles surrounding with me in the centre - they consist of the innermost circle friends, the inner circle friends, and finally the outer circle friends.
I will have one boyfriend who will eventually become my husband.
Life will be simple, because I had the job scope and description of the people in my lives are worked out.
But real life is never that simple and well-defined is it?
In real life, I had many good friends instead of one best friend.
My good friend became my boyfriend. Some of my boyfriends became my good friends, and some became people I don't want anything to do with as people. Others went from friends to boyfriends to enemies to boyfriends to enemies to boyfriends, and then, they just suddenly disappear.
I had colleagues becaming my good friends, and my good friends becoming my colleagues.
And then I had friends become strangers.
Really, with people, you never know what you're going to get. When you least expect it, a certain someone, from a certain somewhere, at a certain sometime, surprises you with that spark of friendship, and a spiritual, emotional, mental connection.
Here's to people, and surprises, and friendships...
Here's to W.E.L.O....
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
See-sawing
I am perched, in the middle of a long plank. The plank is elevated and rests on a single support in the middle.
I think in science they call it a lever and a fulcrum.
I am standing on the plank, right above where the fulcrum is. As I shuffle to the right, the plank tilts and the right end of the plank hits thr ground. A shift to the left causes the moment to turn anti-clockwise, and the end that was in the air previously, now lowers and touches the ground.
This, they call, the see-saw effect. What you see, becomes what you saw.
And this is called the see-saw effect precisely because it it so damn difficult to maintain, that equilibrium that will result in a perfectly level plank, while resting on a single point.
Brilliant!
Perfect equilibrium.
The one thing I always wanted to achieve.
As a kid in the playground, I attempted, with knees bent just so and with the overtly big butt angled a certain way, minute shuffles to the left and right, in order to achieve this.
As an adult in the playground of life, I apply the exact science of politics (or in my case, the lack of!) and the gentle art of persuation , in all that I say or do.
But it seems to be the case, that the older I grow, the harder it is to achieve...
the state of perfect equilibrium.....
The place of 'just right', where nothing else needs to be done or to be said, to make it any better than it already is. Because it is good enough.
But nothing is ever, just right. It's always....
Too much, too little....
Too early, too late....
Too high, too low....
Too deep, to much....
Too little too late.
Too much too soon.
Right place at the wrong time.
Wrong time, right person.
Should have...
Could have...
Would have...
A tad to the left.
A wee bit to the right.
Now, lean forward a little. (Not too much)
Thrust the butt out just a bit more.
Knees bent. Toes spread out.
Your arms should be at a right angle,
and not raised too high.
There... You've almost achieved it. The perfect equilibrium.
And then the see-saw effect comes into play.
Damn!
It is just me, or is it really too hard?
I give up.
I think I'll go and have a try on the swings instead.
I think in science they call it a lever and a fulcrum.
I am standing on the plank, right above where the fulcrum is. As I shuffle to the right, the plank tilts and the right end of the plank hits thr ground. A shift to the left causes the moment to turn anti-clockwise, and the end that was in the air previously, now lowers and touches the ground.
This, they call, the see-saw effect. What you see, becomes what you saw.
And this is called the see-saw effect precisely because it it so damn difficult to maintain, that equilibrium that will result in a perfectly level plank, while resting on a single point.
Brilliant!
Perfect equilibrium.
The one thing I always wanted to achieve.
As a kid in the playground, I attempted, with knees bent just so and with the overtly big butt angled a certain way, minute shuffles to the left and right, in order to achieve this.
As an adult in the playground of life, I apply the exact science of politics (or in my case, the lack of!) and the gentle art of persuation , in all that I say or do.
But it seems to be the case, that the older I grow, the harder it is to achieve...
the state of perfect equilibrium.....
The place of 'just right', where nothing else needs to be done or to be said, to make it any better than it already is. Because it is good enough.
But nothing is ever, just right. It's always....
Too much, too little....
Too early, too late....
Too high, too low....
Too deep, to much....
Too little too late.
Too much too soon.
Right place at the wrong time.
Wrong time, right person.
Should have...
Could have...
Would have...
A tad to the left.
A wee bit to the right.
Now, lean forward a little. (Not too much)
Thrust the butt out just a bit more.
Knees bent. Toes spread out.
Your arms should be at a right angle,
and not raised too high.
There... You've almost achieved it. The perfect equilibrium.
And then the see-saw effect comes into play.
Damn!
It is just me, or is it really too hard?
I give up.
I think I'll go and have a try on the swings instead.
Thursday, November 30, 2006
See it as it is...
People lie.
We lie.
We lie to our bosses, our colleagues, our friends, our families, our loved ones, about ourselves.
Sometimes, we even lie to ourselves, about ourselves.
We tell ourselves we're good, we're great, we're wonderful. And we tell that to ourselves very loudly, in order to drown the soft small voice in our hearts that disagree with us.
We perform acts of charity to show ourselves and the world that we're really nice, caring people who make the world a better place. We tell ourselves that what we do are acts of sacrifice for other people. But what we really want is some form of validation because we don't love ourselves enough.
And so, we boast, we brag, we perform, we promote, we advertise, we aggrandize, we fake, we crow, we flaunt, we exaggerate.
We tell ourselves that we'll be perfect and our lives will be so much more glamourous and exciting, if only our thighs are that slimmer, our breasts bigger, our noses sharper, our lips poutier.
We think that we'll be all the better off with the right clothes and shoes and handbags and jewellery. We don on make-up and tease our hair to incredible shapes to be that someone we've always wanted to be, that someone who is everyone else but ourself.
We hide. We dare not speak up. We're apologetic about our own ideas and our own opinions and who we are. And so, we downplay ourselves in our interactions with people, professionally and socially.
We change and adjust ourselves to please everybody and end up not pleasing anybody at all, hating ourselves and losing our identities, our personalities in a chameleon-like display of all the conceivable colours and textures that we know of, that is however as fleeting and as unsubstantial as the pretty but washed-out colours of a rainbow on a rainy day.
And all because we don't think that we're not good enough, for the job, for the partner, for the world, and we try to possess things and do the things to make ourselves 'good enough'.
And so, we devalue, we undermine, we cheapen, we debase, we bemean, we diminish, we ruin.
And we pendulate between the two extremes, alternating between hating ourselves and narcissism.
The truth.
We need to see ourselves for who and what we really are. To remove the trappings we hide behind to see and recognise ourselves for ourselves. Without inflating and exaggerating our talents and gifts, and without devaluing our real and true worth as well.
With the truth, we can then make something out of ourselves, something which is not built on illusion or delusion.
With the truth, our self worth and self knowledge does not change every minute of every day with the turning and the shifting of like the reflective and shimmery surfaces of a coloured globe that is the world we now live in.
With the truth, we are finally no more living an endless life of lies, doing what we cannot and don't like doing, and being a stranger to our loved ones and ourselves.
No more thinking more highly of oneself than one really is. No more self-flagellation either. See it as it really is.
We lie.
We lie to our bosses, our colleagues, our friends, our families, our loved ones, about ourselves.
Sometimes, we even lie to ourselves, about ourselves.
We tell ourselves we're good, we're great, we're wonderful. And we tell that to ourselves very loudly, in order to drown the soft small voice in our hearts that disagree with us.
We perform acts of charity to show ourselves and the world that we're really nice, caring people who make the world a better place. We tell ourselves that what we do are acts of sacrifice for other people. But what we really want is some form of validation because we don't love ourselves enough.
And so, we boast, we brag, we perform, we promote, we advertise, we aggrandize, we fake, we crow, we flaunt, we exaggerate.
We tell ourselves that we'll be perfect and our lives will be so much more glamourous and exciting, if only our thighs are that slimmer, our breasts bigger, our noses sharper, our lips poutier.
We think that we'll be all the better off with the right clothes and shoes and handbags and jewellery. We don on make-up and tease our hair to incredible shapes to be that someone we've always wanted to be, that someone who is everyone else but ourself.
We hide. We dare not speak up. We're apologetic about our own ideas and our own opinions and who we are. And so, we downplay ourselves in our interactions with people, professionally and socially.
We change and adjust ourselves to please everybody and end up not pleasing anybody at all, hating ourselves and losing our identities, our personalities in a chameleon-like display of all the conceivable colours and textures that we know of, that is however as fleeting and as unsubstantial as the pretty but washed-out colours of a rainbow on a rainy day.
And all because we don't think that we're not good enough, for the job, for the partner, for the world, and we try to possess things and do the things to make ourselves 'good enough'.
And so, we devalue, we undermine, we cheapen, we debase, we bemean, we diminish, we ruin.
And we pendulate between the two extremes, alternating between hating ourselves and narcissism.
The truth.
We need to see ourselves for who and what we really are. To remove the trappings we hide behind to see and recognise ourselves for ourselves. Without inflating and exaggerating our talents and gifts, and without devaluing our real and true worth as well.
With the truth, we can then make something out of ourselves, something which is not built on illusion or delusion.
With the truth, our self worth and self knowledge does not change every minute of every day with the turning and the shifting of like the reflective and shimmery surfaces of a coloured globe that is the world we now live in.
With the truth, we are finally no more living an endless life of lies, doing what we cannot and don't like doing, and being a stranger to our loved ones and ourselves.
No more thinking more highly of oneself than one really is. No more self-flagellation either. See it as it really is.
I know that this will break me
I know that this might make me cry
I know that this will hurt me
And break my heart and soul inside
But I don't wanna live this lie
I want the truth
Give me the truth
Even if it hurts me
I was blind
But now I see
"The Truth", Good Charlotte
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
Save the Whale! Campaign
I'm championing a new cause, the very worthy "Save the Whale" cause.
What?
This whale is quite cute, and is a black-and-white whale. It has slippery waxy surfaces that I like touching, and in case you didn't know, this whale has fleshier flippers than other whales.
Why?
Because the health of the whale is being threatened by the man-made and stifling environment it's living in. (Think fish tank with dirty water!) It is not fed sufficient food for sustenance, and is often left alone to fend for its own survival. It's not helped that because the whale is eating less brain food like fish, it's becoming less clever and therefore less able to fend for itself.
Why some more?
Because the whale is losing its eyesight and swimming into the walls of the fish tank. (Lack of brain food again...) And you never knew the whale has cheekbones until it begins to lose hair and lose weight, and begins to look like an Ethiopian whale!
How?
So now, the plan is to save the whale by removing them from the toxic environment it's in, and leave it to swim free in the sea!
How can you contribute?
Leave a comment on my blog, and tell me how much you're like to donate to this special "Save the Whale" cause, for this particular whale. Once we have enough money to save this whale, the whale can wave its middle flipper and swim out into open ocean!
Save the whale today!
What?
This whale is quite cute, and is a black-and-white whale. It has slippery waxy surfaces that I like touching, and in case you didn't know, this whale has fleshier flippers than other whales.
Why?
Because the health of the whale is being threatened by the man-made and stifling environment it's living in. (Think fish tank with dirty water!) It is not fed sufficient food for sustenance, and is often left alone to fend for its own survival. It's not helped that because the whale is eating less brain food like fish, it's becoming less clever and therefore less able to fend for itself.
Why some more?
Because the whale is losing its eyesight and swimming into the walls of the fish tank. (Lack of brain food again...) And you never knew the whale has cheekbones until it begins to lose hair and lose weight, and begins to look like an Ethiopian whale!
How?
So now, the plan is to save the whale by removing them from the toxic environment it's in, and leave it to swim free in the sea!
How can you contribute?
Leave a comment on my blog, and tell me how much you're like to donate to this special "Save the Whale" cause, for this particular whale. Once we have enough money to save this whale, the whale can wave its middle flipper and swim out into open ocean!
Save the whale today!
Money money money!
My friends love me. I love money. So, my friends love money?!
Hahhaahah
Money! I love money! Money is good! And Money makes the world go round!
As you can see, I'm so excited about money I'm adding exclamation marks to all of my sentences!
I wish I had loads of money! If I had loads of money, this is what I'll be doing with my money....
- Redeem this who from her brothel-like environment where she has to service so many clients she doesn't know her head from her tail already, because the mama-san is not able to get a back-up 小姐 (thing) to help, and this who is getting quite 摧残 (poor thing)...
- Hire assassins to kill the bugger who's been bugging Niang and making her all angsty and can't let go. Because when she suffers, I also suffer. Because guess who gets scoldings when Niang angsty and angry?
- And if the assassins service company has a promotional discount, like a buy-1-get-1-free, or a 3-for-$10 deal, I can help Wei get rid of her Rat-face Boss and Bastard as well. It's a might as well sort of a thing...
- Buy a deserted island, named after me of course. It will be a paradise on earth, but tourists will be banned. In fact, all who tries to land on my paradise deserted island will be shot on sight. (I will teach the monkeys how to use a gun, so as not to spoil the desertedness of my island.)
Then I will build chalets on my island, and let my E, W, G and Niang stay and hide there, surrounded by nice nice palm trees and crystal clear blue waters. There'll be hired toy-boys and dance poles for E, for Niang there will be an oven and cows and chickens and flour trees for eggs and butter and cream and flour, W will have a lot of paper and ink and books, and G, erh, G will have a lot of food and facials.
- I will take wads of dollar notes and throw at people who think I want their money. Muahahahah
Woooooo... I can't wait to be rich!
Hahhaahah
Money! I love money! Money is good! And Money makes the world go round!
As you can see, I'm so excited about money I'm adding exclamation marks to all of my sentences!
I wish I had loads of money! If I had loads of money, this is what I'll be doing with my money....
- Redeem this who from her brothel-like environment where she has to service so many clients she doesn't know her head from her tail already, because the mama-san is not able to get a back-up 小姐 (thing) to help, and this who is getting quite 摧残 (poor thing)...
- Hire assassins to kill the bugger who's been bugging Niang and making her all angsty and can't let go. Because when she suffers, I also suffer. Because guess who gets scoldings when Niang angsty and angry?
- And if the assassins service company has a promotional discount, like a buy-1-get-1-free, or a 3-for-$10 deal, I can help Wei get rid of her Rat-face Boss and Bastard as well. It's a might as well sort of a thing...
- Buy a deserted island, named after me of course. It will be a paradise on earth, but tourists will be banned. In fact, all who tries to land on my paradise deserted island will be shot on sight. (I will teach the monkeys how to use a gun, so as not to spoil the desertedness of my island.)
Then I will build chalets on my island, and let my E, W, G and Niang stay and hide there, surrounded by nice nice palm trees and crystal clear blue waters. There'll be hired toy-boys and dance poles for E, for Niang there will be an oven and cows and chickens and flour trees for eggs and butter and cream and flour, W will have a lot of paper and ink and books, and G, erh, G will have a lot of food and facials.
- I will take wads of dollar notes and throw at people who think I want their money. Muahahahah
Woooooo... I can't wait to be rich!
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
Top of the world
Today I went to the roof top of the building I was working in.
I like going onto roof-tops, because I like the view from rooftops. I like the fact that the buildings and people look like lego blocks and tiny bugs from way up where I am. I also liked the feeling I have of being the all powerful monster being, with all those tiny people, my worshippers, whom I can crush just with my little finger.
For today, I just wanted to enjoy the cool breeze and to clear my head a little. There were just too many things going around in that little space up there, and I just wanted a breather.
- Work or the stuff they call work (I think for some of my friends, work = emotional, mental and physical torture)
- Friends or people you thought were friends
- People and how to relate to them
- Human beings, and how to behave humanely
- How to make the world a better place, by eliminating some people
As you can tell, loads of crap in that little space up there; in fact, it's getting a bit crowded...
Today is a beautiful day. The air smells fresh and clean and of the rain that had just stopped. Together with the rain came a refreshing change to the normally humid warm air; it was cool and nice today. My eyes revelled in the fresh greeness of the field; there were little herons dotting the field. (I'm not sure where they came from, and why they enjoy city life.) The sky was startling azure blue, with little fluffy marshmallow and cottonwool cloud balls. (I wish I was a bird....)
Just enjoying the view and the breeze and the sky, a certain feeling stole over me. The kind I don't know how to explain.
You know the feeling you get when you meet a boy for the first time, a boy who's quite attractive and who looks intelligent and interesting enough, and you find yourself wanting to know him more, to find out more....
The feeling of possibilities, that life is not yet a dead end, and despite and in spite all, the possibility of something a little more, a little better, a little more interesting. Just when you thought life had settled down into a pattern, a routine, that life held no more new surprises, life surprises a little more, because a hope blooms within us, for something which we don't quite know what.
The view looks really quite different from up there.
I like going onto roof-tops, because I like the view from rooftops. I like the fact that the buildings and people look like lego blocks and tiny bugs from way up where I am. I also liked the feeling I have of being the all powerful monster being, with all those tiny people, my worshippers, whom I can crush just with my little finger.
For today, I just wanted to enjoy the cool breeze and to clear my head a little. There were just too many things going around in that little space up there, and I just wanted a breather.
- Work or the stuff they call work (I think for some of my friends, work = emotional, mental and physical torture)
- Friends or people you thought were friends
- People and how to relate to them
- Human beings, and how to behave humanely
- How to make the world a better place, by eliminating some people
As you can tell, loads of crap in that little space up there; in fact, it's getting a bit crowded...
Today is a beautiful day. The air smells fresh and clean and of the rain that had just stopped. Together with the rain came a refreshing change to the normally humid warm air; it was cool and nice today. My eyes revelled in the fresh greeness of the field; there were little herons dotting the field. (I'm not sure where they came from, and why they enjoy city life.) The sky was startling azure blue, with little fluffy marshmallow and cottonwool cloud balls. (I wish I was a bird....)
Just enjoying the view and the breeze and the sky, a certain feeling stole over me. The kind I don't know how to explain.
You know the feeling you get when you meet a boy for the first time, a boy who's quite attractive and who looks intelligent and interesting enough, and you find yourself wanting to know him more, to find out more....
The feeling of possibilities, that life is not yet a dead end, and despite and in spite all, the possibility of something a little more, a little better, a little more interesting. Just when you thought life had settled down into a pattern, a routine, that life held no more new surprises, life surprises a little more, because a hope blooms within us, for something which we don't quite know what.
The view looks really quite different from up there.
Thursday, November 16, 2006
Words..
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
Friday, November 10, 2006
The Funnies....
Charlie Brown comic strip....
Charlie Brown, lying in bed...."Sometimes, I lie awake at night, and I ask, "Why me?".
Then a voice answers, "Nothing personal... Your name just happened to come up...."
Very funny.
Even funnier that it was the same question I asked myself recently.
And you know the funniest thing about it, you've probably asked yourself the exact same thing recently too.
Maybe not the exact same words, and maybe in varying dialects or languages, but the gist of it is there.
Never mind who. Never mind what. Never mind why.
Sometimes it's about why you're the person clickatey-clacking away at your PC, in the wee hours of the morning, alone.
Sometimes it's about why you alone seems to care about something that is absolutely non of your business, and why the person to whom the business actually belongs to, is too short and too what to do something about it.
Sometimes we wonder why short people have issues about their shortness. 2 extra inches do not a man make. In fact, it does nothing for them except make them a taller-by-2-inches dickhead.
Sometimes we wonder why fat women have sometime against beautiful women. (It's not my fault you're fat!)
Sometimes we can't figure out why people have to talk big to make themselves look big. Can't they tell it absolutely doesn't work?
Haha...
But all of the times, it's about us, it's about how we respond and react to any and every situation, just because we forget that it's really not personal. It's business, it's ass saving, it's hopeless rhetoric, it's blatant sucking up, and it's anything but personal.
It's how other people choose to a threat to their survival, whether real or imaginary, whether imminent or actually many light years away.So, it's not personal. Your name just happened to come up.
It may be stupid. It may be ridiculous. It may be useless politicking. But it's not personal.
It's just a matter of survival.
Charlie Brown, lying in bed...."Sometimes, I lie awake at night, and I ask, "Why me?".
Then a voice answers, "Nothing personal... Your name just happened to come up...."
Very funny.
Even funnier that it was the same question I asked myself recently.
And you know the funniest thing about it, you've probably asked yourself the exact same thing recently too.
Maybe not the exact same words, and maybe in varying dialects or languages, but the gist of it is there.
Never mind who. Never mind what. Never mind why.
Sometimes it's about why you're the person clickatey-clacking away at your PC, in the wee hours of the morning, alone.
Sometimes it's about why you alone seems to care about something that is absolutely non of your business, and why the person to whom the business actually belongs to, is too short and too what to do something about it.
Sometimes we wonder why short people have issues about their shortness. 2 extra inches do not a man make. In fact, it does nothing for them except make them a taller-by-2-inches dickhead.
Sometimes we wonder why fat women have sometime against beautiful women. (It's not my fault you're fat!)
Sometimes we can't figure out why people have to talk big to make themselves look big. Can't they tell it absolutely doesn't work?
Haha...
But all of the times, it's about us, it's about how we respond and react to any and every situation, just because we forget that it's really not personal. It's business, it's ass saving, it's hopeless rhetoric, it's blatant sucking up, and it's anything but personal.
It's how other people choose to a threat to their survival, whether real or imaginary, whether imminent or actually many light years away.So, it's not personal. Your name just happened to come up.
It may be stupid. It may be ridiculous. It may be useless politicking. But it's not personal.
It's just a matter of survival.
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
Hug Campaign
Dove has its Real Beauty campaign www.campaignforrealbeauty.com
Well, I have my Hug Campaign. (I want a www site as well!)
It started one day when I suddenly felt like a hug. I looked around, and there was nobody. Fed-up. So from then on, I started obsessing about this hugging thing.
Thus the humble beginnings of the Hug Campaign... The thing about the Hug Campaign is, once you 'kenna' (got ambushed into being) hugged from me, you now have to look for someone to hug. And so on it goes until whatever....
First I had to draw up a list of potential huggees. Then I had to figure when and how to give them their hugs.
W, E, L.. Damn why are all my potential huggees so teeny? Not 'shiok' (nice, almost pleasurable feeling..hahah) to hug wan.
Niang.. A bit fleshier, so got potential, just that I'll be smothering her in my, erh, breasts.
Good guy friends like K, K and K (haha).. I scared their girlfriends get jealous.
G's a nice height and got enough flesh for hugging purposes. Very comfortable and very comforting, but too far away.
Anyway, I'll figure something out. You go figure something out.
Everybody needs a hug. At some point or other.
Some need more than others. Some need only a hug every 1000 years.
I pride myself on being the latter, but lately, I've been hug-needy and sentimental and crap! No offence to those who enjoy hugs, but I just don't lor. I don't exactly abhor, but I'm really not too comfortable with hugs and tears and confidences, because it makes me feel sentimental and tender and human (yeech!)
A hug says....
I love you...
I love you, sometimes...
I love you, most of the times, but other times, I hate you....
I know you feel hurt/sad/lousy/happy/ecstatic/post-coital, so I'll just hang around and accompany you until you get back to normal...
I know you're dead busy with your work, and I really don't want to help you proof-read, but I'll hang around and see you work, since I know misery loves company....
I'm on a diet but I'll watch you eat, and share in your gastronomical satisfaction and delight whilst starving to death next to you...
So everybody needs a hug. Even you. You can call me should you need one. Especially since I have super magical Hug powers. This is how it works, just close your eyes, breathe deeply and count to 10, and you can actually feel my hug. There, does it work?
Ok?
So, everybody, 1, 2, 3....
*Group Hug*
PS For some of you who prefer squatting, you know who you are, well, I'll be there, squatting beside you. I just hope I am able to get up afterwards.
Well, I have my Hug Campaign. (I want a www site as well!)
It started one day when I suddenly felt like a hug. I looked around, and there was nobody. Fed-up. So from then on, I started obsessing about this hugging thing.
Thus the humble beginnings of the Hug Campaign... The thing about the Hug Campaign is, once you 'kenna' (got ambushed into being) hugged from me, you now have to look for someone to hug. And so on it goes until whatever....
First I had to draw up a list of potential huggees. Then I had to figure when and how to give them their hugs.
W, E, L.. Damn why are all my potential huggees so teeny? Not 'shiok' (nice, almost pleasurable feeling..hahah) to hug wan.
Niang.. A bit fleshier, so got potential, just that I'll be smothering her in my, erh, breasts.
Good guy friends like K, K and K (haha).. I scared their girlfriends get jealous.
G's a nice height and got enough flesh for hugging purposes. Very comfortable and very comforting, but too far away.
Anyway, I'll figure something out. You go figure something out.
Everybody needs a hug. At some point or other.
Some need more than others. Some need only a hug every 1000 years.
I pride myself on being the latter, but lately, I've been hug-needy and sentimental and crap! No offence to those who enjoy hugs, but I just don't lor. I don't exactly abhor, but I'm really not too comfortable with hugs and tears and confidences, because it makes me feel sentimental and tender and human (yeech!)
A hug says....
I love you...
I love you, sometimes...
I love you, most of the times, but other times, I hate you....
I know you feel hurt/sad/lousy/happy/ecstatic/post-coital, so I'll just hang around and accompany you until you get back to normal...
I know you're dead busy with your work, and I really don't want to help you proof-read, but I'll hang around and see you work, since I know misery loves company....
I'm on a diet but I'll watch you eat, and share in your gastronomical satisfaction and delight whilst starving to death next to you...
So everybody needs a hug. Even you. You can call me should you need one. Especially since I have super magical Hug powers. This is how it works, just close your eyes, breathe deeply and count to 10, and you can actually feel my hug. There, does it work?
Ok?
So, everybody, 1, 2, 3....
*Group Hug*
PS For some of you who prefer squatting, you know who you are, well, I'll be there, squatting beside you. I just hope I am able to get up afterwards.
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
Blocked....
You know those two names at the right bar of the blog page? "Niang" and "Eee" are two good friends, and because I love them so much, I wanted a public display of my affection and respect for them, by linking my ardent fans to them.
But recently, they've decided to block their blogs, and allow only access rights to deserving people. And if you don't know how to or can't access these sites, and I haven't tried helping you get access to them, it probably means you're an undeserving people. (Unless of course I don't know you, and then it's not you, it's me. Haha)
I guess the truth of the matter is, no matter how public these online blogs are, and never mind how people who don't know nuts about us read it, the fact remains that, blogs are still very private things.
Of course the issue of privacy affects different people differently. All men are made private. But some are made more private than others. And believe it a not, I am a very private person. (Haha)
There are no pictures of myself on this blog. My entries, while insightful and personal, do not reveal too much. (At least I hope so! If not, I'm shutting the damn blog down.) In other words, you can know about me without knowing about me.
I guess I just can't stand the idea of a total stranger knowing me and knowing how I look like and what the hell happened to me. Some people don't care, but seriously, the thought of that, just pisses the hell out of me. Well I'm not about to put a password to my blog yet, or act all paranoid about it, I am certainly going to make sure I don't put myself in that place of vulnerability, because there's no knowing who can be trusted and who can't.
What's the moral of the story? Well, I guess there's no moral of the story. And for all those who miss Niang and Ee's blogs, well too bad, eat your heart out! *evil laugh*
But recently, they've decided to block their blogs, and allow only access rights to deserving people. And if you don't know how to or can't access these sites, and I haven't tried helping you get access to them, it probably means you're an undeserving people. (Unless of course I don't know you, and then it's not you, it's me. Haha)
I guess the truth of the matter is, no matter how public these online blogs are, and never mind how people who don't know nuts about us read it, the fact remains that, blogs are still very private things.
Of course the issue of privacy affects different people differently. All men are made private. But some are made more private than others. And believe it a not, I am a very private person. (Haha)
There are no pictures of myself on this blog. My entries, while insightful and personal, do not reveal too much. (At least I hope so! If not, I'm shutting the damn blog down.) In other words, you can know about me without knowing about me.
I guess I just can't stand the idea of a total stranger knowing me and knowing how I look like and what the hell happened to me. Some people don't care, but seriously, the thought of that, just pisses the hell out of me. Well I'm not about to put a password to my blog yet, or act all paranoid about it, I am certainly going to make sure I don't put myself in that place of vulnerability, because there's no knowing who can be trusted and who can't.
What's the moral of the story? Well, I guess there's no moral of the story. And for all those who miss Niang and Ee's blogs, well too bad, eat your heart out! *evil laugh*
Monday, November 06, 2006
Somebody sedate me?!
"Somebody sedate me!" Cristina Yang yells, desperate to stop her crying and weeping, which could interpreted and are probably interpreted as signs of neediness and needing to be hug.
Yes, I've been watching re-runs of Grey's Anatomy. Again.
One, I want to be sedated too. And sleep for three days and nights, non-stop. Dreamless sleep. I's appreciate it thank you very much. Plus it'll be useful in helping me lose weight as well.
I know I'm the only one who's desperately tired. Niang, E, W, we all sleep together? We need a very very big bed though.
Two, I'm desperate to not seem needy and pathetic and burdensome as well. Why? Because it makes me feel incredibly stupid, that's why!
Somebody, sedate ME!
Yes, I've been watching re-runs of Grey's Anatomy. Again.
One, I want to be sedated too. And sleep for three days and nights, non-stop. Dreamless sleep. I's appreciate it thank you very much. Plus it'll be useful in helping me lose weight as well.
I know I'm the only one who's desperately tired. Niang, E, W, we all sleep together? We need a very very big bed though.
Two, I'm desperate to not seem needy and pathetic and burdensome as well. Why? Because it makes me feel incredibly stupid, that's why!
Somebody, sedate ME!
How to be happy?!
If you're happy and you know it clap your hands.
If you're not, well, just keep clapping until you become happy.
If you're not, well, just keep clapping until you become happy.
Wednesday, November 01, 2006
A matter of survival?
The mechanisms that people and animals adopt in order to survive, defend themselves, cope with situations..
Porcupines inflate themselves and their coat of sharp quills, fending will would-be attackers with the possibility of being very painfully pricked.
Octupuses eject a thick blackish ink in a large cloud, leaving behind them an inky trail as they escape. blinding their attackers.
Deer have their fearsome antlers that could gore you through in several places. They can also run away. (Haha...)
Human beings?
Homo sapiens are complex beings, and have complex methods of ensuring survival.
The fiestier ones confront and stay on to fight. Others go by a more subtle and roundabout way of resolving issues. Some run away. Some more jump off buildings. A few go on killing rampages.
Others walk away.
Walking away is an act of courage. Sometimes. To inexorably walk away from certain people and situations requires a making up of the mind, a detemination to move on, for better or for worse. You walk away from relationships or friendships that are not worth it. You walk away from temptation. You walk away from the old to go to a better place.
Other times, it's an act of cowardice, a form of escapism and not facing the facts and issues inherent. We switch off in unpleasant situations and wander away in our minds to beautiful places where everything is what we ever wanted it to be. We walk away from confrontations because we're tired and we don't think we can face the tears, the argumentative reasonings that are just part and parcel.
Unfortunately, it's not obvious sometimes, for which reason one is walking away. Are we being brave and 'being a man, doing the right thing'? Or are we in actual fact, cowards, rats abandoning a sinking ship? Do we go or do we stay?
Well, if you don't know, I don't know either. Sometimes, I guess, you just have to keep walking, keep walking because if you don't, you'll just sink into the ground and die or something.
So we just have to keep on walking, trudging, plodding, hiking, climbing. Until the road becomes more even, and we're able to see a path set out before us, showing us the way which we should walk, when before, we see nothing but wild grass and trees and no way out.
So, I guess I'll just keep walking. (I just have to make sure I have good walking shoes on.)
So, just keep on walking....
Porcupines inflate themselves and their coat of sharp quills, fending will would-be attackers with the possibility of being very painfully pricked.
Octupuses eject a thick blackish ink in a large cloud, leaving behind them an inky trail as they escape. blinding their attackers.
Deer have their fearsome antlers that could gore you through in several places. They can also run away. (Haha...)
Human beings?
Homo sapiens are complex beings, and have complex methods of ensuring survival.
The fiestier ones confront and stay on to fight. Others go by a more subtle and roundabout way of resolving issues. Some run away. Some more jump off buildings. A few go on killing rampages.
Others walk away.
Walking away is an act of courage. Sometimes. To inexorably walk away from certain people and situations requires a making up of the mind, a detemination to move on, for better or for worse. You walk away from relationships or friendships that are not worth it. You walk away from temptation. You walk away from the old to go to a better place.
Other times, it's an act of cowardice, a form of escapism and not facing the facts and issues inherent. We switch off in unpleasant situations and wander away in our minds to beautiful places where everything is what we ever wanted it to be. We walk away from confrontations because we're tired and we don't think we can face the tears, the argumentative reasonings that are just part and parcel.
Unfortunately, it's not obvious sometimes, for which reason one is walking away. Are we being brave and 'being a man, doing the right thing'? Or are we in actual fact, cowards, rats abandoning a sinking ship? Do we go or do we stay?
Well, if you don't know, I don't know either. Sometimes, I guess, you just have to keep walking, keep walking because if you don't, you'll just sink into the ground and die or something.
So we just have to keep on walking, trudging, plodding, hiking, climbing. Until the road becomes more even, and we're able to see a path set out before us, showing us the way which we should walk, when before, we see nothing but wild grass and trees and no way out.
So, I guess I'll just keep walking. (I just have to make sure I have good walking shoes on.)
So, just keep on walking....
Monday, October 30, 2006
Sunday, October 29, 2006
Empty
I'm sure everybody has been shown a half-filled glass of water, and asked, do you see the glass as half empty, or half full.
They say it's all about perspective and stuff, whether we choose to look on the bright side of things or chose to be pessimistic about it.
Well, what if I show you a totally empty glass? There's no perspective to that now is there? An empty glass is an empty glass, no arguing about that.
Well, I've been through the half-empty / half-full stage.
And what do you know, it doesn't take one long to get to the totally empty stage! At this point, you're at zero, at the bottom of the pit, the lowest life form at the bottom of the food chain. Nope you can't get any lower than that.
At this point, it feels like only a smidgen of what may be called hope is left. Your dignity and pride has disintegrated into thin air, and leaves no traces whatsoever that it was even there before. Everything you thought you had, you thought wrong. You're exposed for what you are, which is actually nothing very much.
The brains you thought you had? Well, ii was actually held together by bubblegum. And you thought you had friends? Well, you thought wrong. Smart, shrewd, respected, beautiful, gorgeous, sexy, talented, can count to 10 etc etc etc, well, it just shows we can spell these words.
(Haha..I have to be more descriptive about this so you guys can identify with it. You all know you've been there at some point.)
So there I was, at Empty.
Zero. Nought. Kosong. 0. In whatever language.
Trust me, it is a frightening place to be.
After the fear though, came a strange liberation.
Because I no longer had to pretend to be something when I was nothing.
I no longer had to attempt to be something that I never was - pretty, nice, smart.
I am now an empty canvas, just waiting to be filled up. I could start working at being really something from ground zero. Instead of trying to cover my nothingness with all sorts of fluff and smoke and red herrings.
A full glass or a half full glass of water contains essentially that, water.
But with an empty glass, the possiblities are endless. Orange juice, watermelon juice, cranberry juice, lemonade......
So here I am, empty!
Fill me up baby! And I can be whatever I want to be!
They say it's all about perspective and stuff, whether we choose to look on the bright side of things or chose to be pessimistic about it.
Well, what if I show you a totally empty glass? There's no perspective to that now is there? An empty glass is an empty glass, no arguing about that.
Well, I've been through the half-empty / half-full stage.
And what do you know, it doesn't take one long to get to the totally empty stage! At this point, you're at zero, at the bottom of the pit, the lowest life form at the bottom of the food chain. Nope you can't get any lower than that.
At this point, it feels like only a smidgen of what may be called hope is left. Your dignity and pride has disintegrated into thin air, and leaves no traces whatsoever that it was even there before. Everything you thought you had, you thought wrong. You're exposed for what you are, which is actually nothing very much.
The brains you thought you had? Well, ii was actually held together by bubblegum. And you thought you had friends? Well, you thought wrong. Smart, shrewd, respected, beautiful, gorgeous, sexy, talented, can count to 10 etc etc etc, well, it just shows we can spell these words.
(Haha..I have to be more descriptive about this so you guys can identify with it. You all know you've been there at some point.)
So there I was, at Empty.
Zero. Nought. Kosong. 0. In whatever language.
Trust me, it is a frightening place to be.
After the fear though, came a strange liberation.
Because I no longer had to pretend to be something when I was nothing.
I no longer had to attempt to be something that I never was - pretty, nice, smart.
I am now an empty canvas, just waiting to be filled up. I could start working at being really something from ground zero. Instead of trying to cover my nothingness with all sorts of fluff and smoke and red herrings.
A full glass or a half full glass of water contains essentially that, water.
But with an empty glass, the possiblities are endless. Orange juice, watermelon juice, cranberry juice, lemonade......
So here I am, empty!
Fill me up baby! And I can be whatever I want to be!
Thursday, October 26, 2006
Make Me Lose Control
Some people say God speaks to them face to face, or through angels.
Well, I feel like God is speaking to me through Grey's Anatomy.
I love Grey's Anatomy. Absolutely, totally, head over heels. I've never felt this way about any other televesion drama before. :)
Well, I've been watching it, again, the re-runs they show on cable. In this episode, Meredith and Christina's secrets finally come undone.
Secrets. Everybody has them. Even the ones you think tell you everything.
You think you know someone, someone who's been your friend for years, someone whom you're living with, but you thought wrong.
Everybody has secrets. Everybody.
And sometimes, we do our darnest best to keep them secret, just because.
In fact, sometimes we don't know what's the big deal in keeping these things under wrap. What does it matter if people know. But we do anyway.
Secrets. Everybody has them. Everybody's entitled to them.
Maybe it's all about control. Letting loose what was originally a secret means letting it spiral out of control in other people's talk, in other people's minds. And we sure as hell don't want that.
Because we care what other people think about us, about our lives. Meredith didn't want people to know her mum had Alzeimer's. Christina didn't want people to know she's pregnant.
Because it matters to us. It's important to us. And because it matters and it's important, we guard these things closely, until they become what's known as secrets.
And we don't let go. We never ever let go. We dare not let go.
And we grow all rigid and unyielding and paranoid about secrets. We become afraid we'll get found out.
No one likes to lose control. It’s a sign of weakness.
And still there are times when it just gets away from you.
No matter how hard you fight it. You fall. And its scary as hell.
Except there’s an upside to free falling. It’s the chance you give your friends to catch you.
Maybe it's time to do some free falling.....
Well, I feel like God is speaking to me through Grey's Anatomy.
I love Grey's Anatomy. Absolutely, totally, head over heels. I've never felt this way about any other televesion drama before. :)
Well, I've been watching it, again, the re-runs they show on cable. In this episode, Meredith and Christina's secrets finally come undone.
Secrets. Everybody has them. Even the ones you think tell you everything.
You think you know someone, someone who's been your friend for years, someone whom you're living with, but you thought wrong.
Everybody has secrets. Everybody.
And sometimes, we do our darnest best to keep them secret, just because.
In fact, sometimes we don't know what's the big deal in keeping these things under wrap. What does it matter if people know. But we do anyway.
Secrets. Everybody has them. Everybody's entitled to them.
Maybe it's all about control. Letting loose what was originally a secret means letting it spiral out of control in other people's talk, in other people's minds. And we sure as hell don't want that.
Because we care what other people think about us, about our lives. Meredith didn't want people to know her mum had Alzeimer's. Christina didn't want people to know she's pregnant.
Because it matters to us. It's important to us. And because it matters and it's important, we guard these things closely, until they become what's known as secrets.
And we don't let go. We never ever let go. We dare not let go.
And we grow all rigid and unyielding and paranoid about secrets. We become afraid we'll get found out.
No one likes to lose control. It’s a sign of weakness.
And still there are times when it just gets away from you.
No matter how hard you fight it. You fall. And its scary as hell.
Except there’s an upside to free falling. It’s the chance you give your friends to catch you.
Maybe it's time to do some free falling.....
Wednesday, October 25, 2006
Sigh
When we come to a point that we feel that we can't go on anymore, a sigh is a breath we take, that helps us take the next breath and the next and then the next, until we can start breathing on our own again.
Monday, October 23, 2006
A Long Way Down...
I've been reading...
Ok, I know I'm not the only person in the world who is literate, and who actually reads books. But the fact of the matter is, I've been reading.
And one of the books I've come across recently ia Nick Hornby's "A Long Way Down". To quote, it's about "four characters who accidentally meet on top of a tower block, all ready to jump to their death on New Year's Eve".
It's all about suicide, and thankfully, not as morbid and as depressing as I thought it would be. In fact, it was quite funny at times, which seems paradoxical. Suicide is a funny thing?!
Anyway, you know those 'teaser' type sypnopsis they have at the back cover, to entice folks to buy this particular book out of the millions that are standing in bookshelves around the world? This one began with "Can I explain why I wanted to jump off the top of a tower block?"
Which reminded me of a book I read some time ago, the much acclaimed "The Catcher and The Rye" (J.D. Salinger). It's suppose to be a brilliant book, but I read it twice without finding why it was so-called brilliant. Then I finally figured it out, or at least I think I did. (This is MINE intepretation of the book, so sod off and be polite about it if you think I'm wrong!)
It's so brilliant because the streams of consciousness writing allows the reader to actually live his life, and think his thoughts. And the scary thing is, even as we're being him, the protagonist, we can't see his mind degenerating into madness. There's no distinct demarcation that marks out madness from sanity. There's no turning point that transformed the ordinary guy-next-door from becoming someone who's a little mad, a little crazy, a little mental who should be kept under supervision if not under lock and key.
This process of change is so subtle, so slight, so unnoticeable. A slight change in behaviour, some mood swings.. A little here, a little there, a bit at a time, and before you know it, you're suddenly 'there', waking up from some kind of trance, bloodied knife in hand, and bodies littering the floor.
Back to "A Long Way Down", the thing is, there's no "profile" of what a person who's planning to commit suicide is like. Some have obvious problems, like Martin Sharp the disgraced TV presenter wo has lost his job, his wife and children. And there's the mother who has a vegetable for a son, and whose future is a bleak picture of constantly caring for a son who is capable of nothing at all. Some are not so obvious, a girl who thinks she has lost the 'love of her life', and the boy who did not fulfill his dream of being a musician. The first 2 seems to have some good reason at least for wanting out of their current lives. But who's to say who're the ones who deserve to be depressed about their lives and who're not allowed to.
The point is, one may have a so-called OK life, and still end up choosing to end their lives. There's really no telling. OK people may still find themselves at the top of a tower block, peering over the railings, and feeling that incredible urge to jump down. OK people may suddenly just swallow the entire contents of a bottle of asprin.
"Can I explain why I wanted to jump off the top of a tower block?"
"Can I explain why I just feel like crying all the time, and not stop?"
"Can I explain why I just feel like leaving my wife, and my children and kids?"
"Can I explain why I feel depressed?"
And scarily, sometimes there's no explaining why at all...
Disclaimer: I'm not thinking of stupid things by the way. Haha.
Ok, I know I'm not the only person in the world who is literate, and who actually reads books. But the fact of the matter is, I've been reading.
And one of the books I've come across recently ia Nick Hornby's "A Long Way Down". To quote, it's about "four characters who accidentally meet on top of a tower block, all ready to jump to their death on New Year's Eve".
It's all about suicide, and thankfully, not as morbid and as depressing as I thought it would be. In fact, it was quite funny at times, which seems paradoxical. Suicide is a funny thing?!
Anyway, you know those 'teaser' type sypnopsis they have at the back cover, to entice folks to buy this particular book out of the millions that are standing in bookshelves around the world? This one began with "Can I explain why I wanted to jump off the top of a tower block?"
Which reminded me of a book I read some time ago, the much acclaimed "The Catcher and The Rye" (J.D. Salinger). It's suppose to be a brilliant book, but I read it twice without finding why it was so-called brilliant. Then I finally figured it out, or at least I think I did. (This is MINE intepretation of the book, so sod off and be polite about it if you think I'm wrong!)
It's so brilliant because the streams of consciousness writing allows the reader to actually live his life, and think his thoughts. And the scary thing is, even as we're being him, the protagonist, we can't see his mind degenerating into madness. There's no distinct demarcation that marks out madness from sanity. There's no turning point that transformed the ordinary guy-next-door from becoming someone who's a little mad, a little crazy, a little mental who should be kept under supervision if not under lock and key.
This process of change is so subtle, so slight, so unnoticeable. A slight change in behaviour, some mood swings.. A little here, a little there, a bit at a time, and before you know it, you're suddenly 'there', waking up from some kind of trance, bloodied knife in hand, and bodies littering the floor.
Back to "A Long Way Down", the thing is, there's no "profile" of what a person who's planning to commit suicide is like. Some have obvious problems, like Martin Sharp the disgraced TV presenter wo has lost his job, his wife and children. And there's the mother who has a vegetable for a son, and whose future is a bleak picture of constantly caring for a son who is capable of nothing at all. Some are not so obvious, a girl who thinks she has lost the 'love of her life', and the boy who did not fulfill his dream of being a musician. The first 2 seems to have some good reason at least for wanting out of their current lives. But who's to say who're the ones who deserve to be depressed about their lives and who're not allowed to.
The point is, one may have a so-called OK life, and still end up choosing to end their lives. There's really no telling. OK people may still find themselves at the top of a tower block, peering over the railings, and feeling that incredible urge to jump down. OK people may suddenly just swallow the entire contents of a bottle of asprin.
"Can I explain why I wanted to jump off the top of a tower block?"
"Can I explain why I just feel like crying all the time, and not stop?"
"Can I explain why I just feel like leaving my wife, and my children and kids?"
"Can I explain why I feel depressed?"
And scarily, sometimes there's no explaining why at all...
Disclaimer: I'm not thinking of stupid things by the way. Haha.
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
Where are we going?
"Where are we going?"
"I don't know. I thought you knew."
"No, I don't know. Maybe he knows.
"No. He definitely doesn't know."
PAUSE
"Maybe no one knows."
PAUSE
"Oh well. I hope it's nice when we get there."
"I don't know. I thought you knew."
"No, I don't know. Maybe he knows.
"No. He definitely doesn't know."
PAUSE
"Maybe no one knows."
PAUSE
"Oh well. I hope it's nice when we get there."
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
Happy Birthday
Excerpt from Rene Liu's "What A Wonderful Day" <<我想跟你走>>
(X marks the spot where I can't figure out what the word is)
那天是我的生日, 遇上了七级台风, 外头的风雨真的很大, 大得让人心慌, 这种时候, 除了担心灾情, 也会想像那些跟我一样独居的孤男寡女的心情.
就在这时候, 电话响了, 小米打来的. 落X地问: "你在干嘛?"
我说: "没啊! 呆着呢!"
小米是我多年的好朋友, 平时不常联络, 或者说, 只要她出现, 肯定有事. 当然她也可以这样形容我.
我问她: "又怎么了?"
她说: "没啊...."
沉默了一阵子, 她才悠悠地说: "已经三十六个小时了, 他都没有 e-mail 来." 我先是一头雾水, 接着想起前天就是小米的生日. 她有一个相交多年的前男友, 小南, 即便分手很久了, 两人平时也不联络, 但每年两个人的生日, 他们必定互相问候对方.
那年, 小米十七岁
小米有点轻描淡写, 但我知道她伤的很深. 她就是那种越轻描淡写伤势越严重的类型.
但要说她在乎的是小南, 不如说要命的是生日. 每当生日快到的时候, 小米就开始陷入一种焦虑, 那是一种既兴奋又注定要受伤害的气氛. 是因为年龄与日俱增吗? 还是因为被提醒适婚年龄已过? 但这又是每个都会单身女性的问题, 小米又何苦为难自己?
以上是我的猜测, 因为我知道小米不太喜欢听到人家说 "生日快乐", 连我跟她这样的朋友, 在她生日的时候, 都不会自讨没趣.
但小米同时又不高兴人家提都不提她的生日, 好象她降临这个世界没有任何重要性. 是啊, 谁要那种全人类都不记得自己生日的感觉?
对于这种天人交战的难题, 她的处理方式是, 在生日那天, 关掉手机, 拨掉家里电话, 不上网. 矫X过正吗? 应该说把头藏在沙堆里是小米的拿手绝活.
小南是小米的初恋情人, 那年, 小米十七岁. 十七岁的失恋跟恋爱好象一样剧情单纯, 当事人以为自己的故事很壮烈, 观众看起来不过如此.
他们分手后的十年之间, 都维持当好朋友, 甚至当初小米去欧洲学音乐, 也是小南鼓励她的. 他说他们的相处方式已经走进死胡同, 小米太依赖他了, 如果小米不暂时离开, 她的人生就完了. 那年, 他考上交大, 小米只是补习生.
于是小米真的走了.
而她的人生当然也就不一样了.
诺言
后来 不管身边换了多少对象, 他们都保持一种奇妙的伙伴关系. 小南在小米出国期间, 甚至常常去找小米的爸爸聊天, 表明不管他换了多少女朋友, 他都回等小米, 除非小米结婚, 否则他不会放弃.
这种说法听起来很滑稽, 但是很动人, 小米每每听到, 虽然嘴里说死也不会嫁给小南, 但还是沾沾自喜.
小南去维也纳找过小米一次, 两个人一起度过三天, 第死天小南就不见了, 留下一张纸条, “我在台湾买了一张环欧火车票, 我要好好利用…”
小米回国, 就在一家打X乐教室教小朋友, 小南即便当时不X风流韵事, 只要小米一通电话, 小南都回出现. 小米对他的依赖不是生活上的, 更多的是精神上的. 每当小米感情受挫时, 工作不顺时, 对自己缺乏信心时, 她就需要小南的”诺言”来当作自己的强心针.
这些年当中, 他们也曾经试图在一起, 毕竟互相取暖的两个人, 火花是取之不绝的. 但是复合的第一个礼拜, 两个人都变得无话可说, 压力大到令人窒息, 于是再来整整三个礼拜没有联络!
小米告诉我, 就在他们谈好分手的那个晚上, 他们去吃饭, 两个人又回到了以前一样,败涂地滔滔不绝, 甜言蜜语.
小米常常说小南很了解她, 或者说, 因为他们很象, 都不能忍受跟另一个生物腻在一起太久, 所以他们之间的距离总是刚刚好. 刚刚好到”现在什么都没发生,多久但是永远都有可能会发生什么”.
自由
一天, 小南打电话给小米, 说找她吃饭, 小米说晚点要去上班, 现在不想出门. 于是他买了三明治去她家, 吃完小米赶着出门, 他送她去, 经过安和路信义路口的婚纱店 (现在挂着林志玲的海报), 他突然问小米: “你如果结婚, 回拍那种婚纱照?”
小米把脸一扬, 冷冷地说:”最讨厌婚纱照了, 如果结婚才不要拍照, 麻烦死了!”
“我同意, 麻烦又浪费钱.” 小米相信小南在暗示什么, 虽然小米还是觉得自己不会嫁给他.
两天之后, 小米去看<<落跑新娘>>, 出了戏院听手机留言, 是小南, “我要结婚了, 新娘你不认识. 我一直没跟你讲, 因为不到最后一秒, 我都不能确定. 对不起啦. 我什么事都跟她说, 她不相信我们只是朋友, 所以我必须很正式跟你说, 我们只是朋友, 我爱的人是她, 她现在就在我身边…..”
这世界上有比这个更滑稽的事情吗?
他高兴跟谁结婚就跟谁结婚, 那是他的自由, 但他有必要一直隐瞒吗? 不到最后一秒不能确定? 那他根本就是永远不能确定! 他们要怎么拍结婚照, 那是他们家的事, 有必要来告诉我吗? 这是”朋友”的行为吗? 还有, 最不可原谅的, 有必要在她面前打电话来羞辱我吗? “不把自己的快乐建筑在别人的痛苦上”, 这不是小学生都知道的公民道德吗?
小米在手机里说她没有掉眼泪, 她说她很好,终于解脱了, 不用再为小南的幸福负责,所以开着她的黑色吉普车把台北市绕了三圈, 她说,她觉得很可笑, 对于过去的十三年都相信他的诺言, 可笑的是自己. 我说这一圈绕完就回家吧.
后来小南是何时结婚的, 我们并不知道, 起码这群至死护卫小米的朋友都不知道, 只知道从消息XX 光那天开始, 再也没人从小米口中听到小南这两个字.
故事并没有结束.
惟一活着的方式
小米一直到今天才跟我说.
其实这几年每到生日, 她都会收到他的 email.
就是一句话 – Happy Birthday.
每一封她都存起来.
每隔六个月, 小南生日的时候, 小米就把同一封信回传给他.
我小她那么沉得住气, 那么耍心机, 小米说: “我连他结婚的事都没问过…….. 多写一个字, 都会心痛……”
于是每一年的生日祝福, 就是惟一可以知道他还活着的方式, 或者说, 知道他还有一点点在乎自己的方式. 进年生日已经过了, 已经过了三十六个小时, 小米都没有收到小南的讯息, 它开始慌了. 我要她们直接写信去问. “那怎么可以…. 他忘了就忘了吧!” 说这句话的时候, 小米的声音像是一口水咽不小去.
几天过后, 我收到小米的简讯.
“今天晚上十一点五十六分我才收到他的祝福.”
“原问如下: There are things I care about everyday but can only say it once a year. Sorry about the delay. (有些事我每天都挂念, 但只能一年说一次. 迟到了, 对不起.)”
几天后, 无意间在路上碰见初中同学, 他是刚从上海回来的, 聊天时我好奇地问起小南, 同学跟我说, 你不知道他已经走了吗?
“去哪儿了?”
同学说: “天国.”
然后是可想而知的短暂对话, “不好笑”, “你有看到我笑吗? 他走了快一年了.”
我感到一阵晕眩, 晕眩过后, 我想到小米. 为什么这么大的事我们不知道, 小米也不知道? 因为我们从小南说要结婚之后, 就几乎拒绝听到任何有关于他的消息. 但前几天的那封 email 是怎么回事?
我翻出早已不用的通讯录, 壮着胆子打去小南的家, 也不知道号码是否还管用.
有三个日子改变了
一个年轻女人接起了电话, 说是小南的姐姐. 我表明身份, 问候了几句, 最终忍不住问了她, 如果小南早就不在, 怎么会有 email? 她哭了出来, 小心翼翼地跟我说: “请不要再追究这件事, 这是小南走之前要我帮他做的. 他要我每年帮他发一次 email, 我忘了, 过了快一个礼拜才想起来.” 小南姐姐要我守住秘密, 但这样的事怎么可能瞒得了永远呢?
但要我跟小米 X 破, 那也是不可能的, 药品讲也不会是我讲. 我跟小南姐姐多问一些情况, 病因是脑肿瘤, 时间呢, 发现时是四年前, 后来都在大陆寻求另类疗法. 四年前? 那不就是小南给小米留话说他要结婚的那年?
“那小南的太太呢?”
“什么太太? 小南没有结婚啊! 我们家人都知道他一直在等小米啊!”
接下来, 我在电话里足足沉默了三十秒.
我在想, 这是怎么回事? 或者说, 我已经猜到什么回事, 但我在怀疑, 这怎么可能? 这一切是小南的安排吗? 假装闪电结婚, 从此消失, 一年一次生日问候, 一直…. 要一直到什么时候? 他要小米对他死心, 然后让小米知道他永远记得她. 这是爱吗?
这世界上有这样的爱吗? 着不是通俗小说里的情节吗? 但它又远比小说情节真实, 充满细节. 小南, 小米在我脑海里栩栩如生, 他们的忧伤欢笑, 那不是演出, 是漫漫时间长河中的呼吸.
我全身的汗毛都起来, 那是在我挂上电话, 走到港口看着路上 XX 攘攘的人群时. 我需要盯着一个个陌生的人, 来让自己缓缓回到现实. 我会先回到现实, 然后再重新一点一滴让自己进去小南的世界, 去感受他感受的, 去编织他所编织的.
我不确定我能感受到什么程度, 但我知道, 每一年没一年, 有三个日子多我来说是永远地改变了, 小米的生日, 小南的生日, 和我自己的生日.
(X marks the spot where I can't figure out what the word is)
那天是我的生日, 遇上了七级台风, 外头的风雨真的很大, 大得让人心慌, 这种时候, 除了担心灾情, 也会想像那些跟我一样独居的孤男寡女的心情.
就在这时候, 电话响了, 小米打来的. 落X地问: "你在干嘛?"
我说: "没啊! 呆着呢!"
小米是我多年的好朋友, 平时不常联络, 或者说, 只要她出现, 肯定有事. 当然她也可以这样形容我.
我问她: "又怎么了?"
她说: "没啊...."
沉默了一阵子, 她才悠悠地说: "已经三十六个小时了, 他都没有 e-mail 来." 我先是一头雾水, 接着想起前天就是小米的生日. 她有一个相交多年的前男友, 小南, 即便分手很久了, 两人平时也不联络, 但每年两个人的生日, 他们必定互相问候对方.
那年, 小米十七岁
小米有点轻描淡写, 但我知道她伤的很深. 她就是那种越轻描淡写伤势越严重的类型.
但要说她在乎的是小南, 不如说要命的是生日. 每当生日快到的时候, 小米就开始陷入一种焦虑, 那是一种既兴奋又注定要受伤害的气氛. 是因为年龄与日俱增吗? 还是因为被提醒适婚年龄已过? 但这又是每个都会单身女性的问题, 小米又何苦为难自己?
以上是我的猜测, 因为我知道小米不太喜欢听到人家说 "生日快乐", 连我跟她这样的朋友, 在她生日的时候, 都不会自讨没趣.
但小米同时又不高兴人家提都不提她的生日, 好象她降临这个世界没有任何重要性. 是啊, 谁要那种全人类都不记得自己生日的感觉?
对于这种天人交战的难题, 她的处理方式是, 在生日那天, 关掉手机, 拨掉家里电话, 不上网. 矫X过正吗? 应该说把头藏在沙堆里是小米的拿手绝活.
小南是小米的初恋情人, 那年, 小米十七岁. 十七岁的失恋跟恋爱好象一样剧情单纯, 当事人以为自己的故事很壮烈, 观众看起来不过如此.
他们分手后的十年之间, 都维持当好朋友, 甚至当初小米去欧洲学音乐, 也是小南鼓励她的. 他说他们的相处方式已经走进死胡同, 小米太依赖他了, 如果小米不暂时离开, 她的人生就完了. 那年, 他考上交大, 小米只是补习生.
于是小米真的走了.
而她的人生当然也就不一样了.
诺言
后来 不管身边换了多少对象, 他们都保持一种奇妙的伙伴关系. 小南在小米出国期间, 甚至常常去找小米的爸爸聊天, 表明不管他换了多少女朋友, 他都回等小米, 除非小米结婚, 否则他不会放弃.
这种说法听起来很滑稽, 但是很动人, 小米每每听到, 虽然嘴里说死也不会嫁给小南, 但还是沾沾自喜.
小南去维也纳找过小米一次, 两个人一起度过三天, 第死天小南就不见了, 留下一张纸条, “我在台湾买了一张环欧火车票, 我要好好利用…”
小米回国, 就在一家打X乐教室教小朋友, 小南即便当时不X风流韵事, 只要小米一通电话, 小南都回出现. 小米对他的依赖不是生活上的, 更多的是精神上的. 每当小米感情受挫时, 工作不顺时, 对自己缺乏信心时, 她就需要小南的”诺言”来当作自己的强心针.
这些年当中, 他们也曾经试图在一起, 毕竟互相取暖的两个人, 火花是取之不绝的. 但是复合的第一个礼拜, 两个人都变得无话可说, 压力大到令人窒息, 于是再来整整三个礼拜没有联络!
小米告诉我, 就在他们谈好分手的那个晚上, 他们去吃饭, 两个人又回到了以前一样,败涂地滔滔不绝, 甜言蜜语.
小米常常说小南很了解她, 或者说, 因为他们很象, 都不能忍受跟另一个生物腻在一起太久, 所以他们之间的距离总是刚刚好. 刚刚好到”现在什么都没发生,多久但是永远都有可能会发生什么”.
自由
一天, 小南打电话给小米, 说找她吃饭, 小米说晚点要去上班, 现在不想出门. 于是他买了三明治去她家, 吃完小米赶着出门, 他送她去, 经过安和路信义路口的婚纱店 (现在挂着林志玲的海报), 他突然问小米: “你如果结婚, 回拍那种婚纱照?”
小米把脸一扬, 冷冷地说:”最讨厌婚纱照了, 如果结婚才不要拍照, 麻烦死了!”
“我同意, 麻烦又浪费钱.” 小米相信小南在暗示什么, 虽然小米还是觉得自己不会嫁给他.
两天之后, 小米去看<<落跑新娘>>, 出了戏院听手机留言, 是小南, “我要结婚了, 新娘你不认识. 我一直没跟你讲, 因为不到最后一秒, 我都不能确定. 对不起啦. 我什么事都跟她说, 她不相信我们只是朋友, 所以我必须很正式跟你说, 我们只是朋友, 我爱的人是她, 她现在就在我身边…..”
这世界上有比这个更滑稽的事情吗?
他高兴跟谁结婚就跟谁结婚, 那是他的自由, 但他有必要一直隐瞒吗? 不到最后一秒不能确定? 那他根本就是永远不能确定! 他们要怎么拍结婚照, 那是他们家的事, 有必要来告诉我吗? 这是”朋友”的行为吗? 还有, 最不可原谅的, 有必要在她面前打电话来羞辱我吗? “不把自己的快乐建筑在别人的痛苦上”, 这不是小学生都知道的公民道德吗?
小米在手机里说她没有掉眼泪, 她说她很好,终于解脱了, 不用再为小南的幸福负责,所以开着她的黑色吉普车把台北市绕了三圈, 她说,她觉得很可笑, 对于过去的十三年都相信他的诺言, 可笑的是自己. 我说这一圈绕完就回家吧.
后来小南是何时结婚的, 我们并不知道, 起码这群至死护卫小米的朋友都不知道, 只知道从消息XX 光那天开始, 再也没人从小米口中听到小南这两个字.
故事并没有结束.
惟一活着的方式
小米一直到今天才跟我说.
其实这几年每到生日, 她都会收到他的 email.
就是一句话 – Happy Birthday.
每一封她都存起来.
每隔六个月, 小南生日的时候, 小米就把同一封信回传给他.
我小她那么沉得住气, 那么耍心机, 小米说: “我连他结婚的事都没问过…….. 多写一个字, 都会心痛……”
于是每一年的生日祝福, 就是惟一可以知道他还活着的方式, 或者说, 知道他还有一点点在乎自己的方式. 进年生日已经过了, 已经过了三十六个小时, 小米都没有收到小南的讯息, 它开始慌了. 我要她们直接写信去问. “那怎么可以…. 他忘了就忘了吧!” 说这句话的时候, 小米的声音像是一口水咽不小去.
几天过后, 我收到小米的简讯.
“今天晚上十一点五十六分我才收到他的祝福.”
“原问如下: There are things I care about everyday but can only say it once a year. Sorry about the delay. (有些事我每天都挂念, 但只能一年说一次. 迟到了, 对不起.)”
几天后, 无意间在路上碰见初中同学, 他是刚从上海回来的, 聊天时我好奇地问起小南, 同学跟我说, 你不知道他已经走了吗?
“去哪儿了?”
同学说: “天国.”
然后是可想而知的短暂对话, “不好笑”, “你有看到我笑吗? 他走了快一年了.”
我感到一阵晕眩, 晕眩过后, 我想到小米. 为什么这么大的事我们不知道, 小米也不知道? 因为我们从小南说要结婚之后, 就几乎拒绝听到任何有关于他的消息. 但前几天的那封 email 是怎么回事?
我翻出早已不用的通讯录, 壮着胆子打去小南的家, 也不知道号码是否还管用.
有三个日子改变了
一个年轻女人接起了电话, 说是小南的姐姐. 我表明身份, 问候了几句, 最终忍不住问了她, 如果小南早就不在, 怎么会有 email? 她哭了出来, 小心翼翼地跟我说: “请不要再追究这件事, 这是小南走之前要我帮他做的. 他要我每年帮他发一次 email, 我忘了, 过了快一个礼拜才想起来.” 小南姐姐要我守住秘密, 但这样的事怎么可能瞒得了永远呢?
但要我跟小米 X 破, 那也是不可能的, 药品讲也不会是我讲. 我跟小南姐姐多问一些情况, 病因是脑肿瘤, 时间呢, 发现时是四年前, 后来都在大陆寻求另类疗法. 四年前? 那不就是小南给小米留话说他要结婚的那年?
“那小南的太太呢?”
“什么太太? 小南没有结婚啊! 我们家人都知道他一直在等小米啊!”
接下来, 我在电话里足足沉默了三十秒.
我在想, 这是怎么回事? 或者说, 我已经猜到什么回事, 但我在怀疑, 这怎么可能? 这一切是小南的安排吗? 假装闪电结婚, 从此消失, 一年一次生日问候, 一直…. 要一直到什么时候? 他要小米对他死心, 然后让小米知道他永远记得她. 这是爱吗?
这世界上有这样的爱吗? 着不是通俗小说里的情节吗? 但它又远比小说情节真实, 充满细节. 小南, 小米在我脑海里栩栩如生, 他们的忧伤欢笑, 那不是演出, 是漫漫时间长河中的呼吸.
我全身的汗毛都起来, 那是在我挂上电话, 走到港口看着路上 XX 攘攘的人群时. 我需要盯着一个个陌生的人, 来让自己缓缓回到现实. 我会先回到现实, 然后再重新一点一滴让自己进去小南的世界, 去感受他感受的, 去编织他所编织的.
我不确定我能感受到什么程度, 但我知道, 每一年没一年, 有三个日子多我来说是永远地改变了, 小米的生日, 小南的生日, 和我自己的生日.
Friday, September 29, 2006
Love me. Hate me.
You can love me. You can hate me. But you can't ever ignore me.
There are some people whom you just love, all the time, because they're just so kind and nice and tactful. Like G. I wish I was like that too. But unfortunately, I'm not.
Even my good friends want to throw things at me sometimes. For being so blunt and direct and irreverent. For not mincing my words when I tell them things about themselves. For being rude and callous and rough. For being an opiniated cynic. For being anti-social. For shooting my mouth off without thinking. For being sarcastic and self-deprecatory. For loving a good joke, sometimes at other people's expense. And for not even knowing I've done something wrong. And sometimes, for just being plain annoying and irritating.
But at other times, they love me too, for just being me, for strangly, they love me for the same reasons that they hate me for. Yes, even the annoying and irritating part.
At this point, I guess I should thank my friends for putting up with my nonsense. * kiss kiss hug hug*
But I guess, much as I want to be loved only. It's just me lah, to be provocative and shameless and offensive, yet blur, and for being an irreverent loud-mouth jack-a**. So, please love me. Don't hate me.
And don't ever ignore me! (Or not I'll box your ears!)
There are some people whom you just love, all the time, because they're just so kind and nice and tactful. Like G. I wish I was like that too. But unfortunately, I'm not.
Even my good friends want to throw things at me sometimes. For being so blunt and direct and irreverent. For not mincing my words when I tell them things about themselves. For being rude and callous and rough. For being an opiniated cynic. For being anti-social. For shooting my mouth off without thinking. For being sarcastic and self-deprecatory. For loving a good joke, sometimes at other people's expense. And for not even knowing I've done something wrong. And sometimes, for just being plain annoying and irritating.
But at other times, they love me too, for just being me, for strangly, they love me for the same reasons that they hate me for. Yes, even the annoying and irritating part.
At this point, I guess I should thank my friends for putting up with my nonsense. * kiss kiss hug hug*
But I guess, much as I want to be loved only. It's just me lah, to be provocative and shameless and offensive, yet blur, and for being an irreverent loud-mouth jack-a**. So, please love me. Don't hate me.
And don't ever ignore me! (Or not I'll box your ears!)
Thursday, September 28, 2006
F*** everything and everybody...
It's just one of these days that I feel like saying to people, "Why don't you just f*** off!"
Maybe it's signalling the impending of a period of cramps and grouchiness and what not.
Or maybe I'm just fed-up with the world in general. With their rules and their obligations and political correctness and what they think I should do for them.
Well, f*** off.
I don't owe you or anybody anything. I don't have to follow normal human rules if I don't want to. I'm not obligated to be nice to you and do what you want. And what are you going to do about it if I say what I really think about you?
What on earth do I have to be politically correct about things? Facts are not meant to be chewed down, and spit out as mushed-up morsels!
Rant rant rant! I could just rant all day.
Well, obviously this post is not talking about certain people like Gar, Wee, Niang, and E, who are my ardent fans. It's just about the freaking world in general.
And I'm sorry for the vulgar content with all the ****. I tend to over-react and be very verbal when I get frustrated or pissed off. Hahahahahah.
Maybe it's signalling the impending of a period of cramps and grouchiness and what not.
Or maybe I'm just fed-up with the world in general. With their rules and their obligations and political correctness and what they think I should do for them.
Well, f*** off.
I don't owe you or anybody anything. I don't have to follow normal human rules if I don't want to. I'm not obligated to be nice to you and do what you want. And what are you going to do about it if I say what I really think about you?
What on earth do I have to be politically correct about things? Facts are not meant to be chewed down, and spit out as mushed-up morsels!
Rant rant rant! I could just rant all day.
Well, obviously this post is not talking about certain people like Gar, Wee, Niang, and E, who are my ardent fans. It's just about the freaking world in general.
And I'm sorry for the vulgar content with all the ****. I tend to over-react and be very verbal when I get frustrated or pissed off. Hahahahahah.
Thursday, September 14, 2006
Is it just me?!
I've been feeling guilty.
Because the things I should be doing I don't want to do. And the things I should do less of, I keep doing.
Examples of things I should be doing that I don't feel like doing, or am not doing are: 1. Work 2. Work 3. Work
And the stuff that I should be doing less of, like sleeping, shopping, spending money, sugar binging, swimming (they all seem to start with "s"!), I just want to do the whole day long!
Like right now, when I rightfully should be putting in my eight hours worth of hard work for my employee, all I want to do is to go to sleep, or shopping. Even better still if I can go both at the same time. But with things the way they are i.e. I need the money that comes from the job to put bacon on the table, and can't afford to get sacked, I just have to be contented with blogging during office hours. And thinking of legitimate ways to actually not have to go to work.
Lest you think I'm the skiving conniving unethical employee, I am feeling that teeny-weeny bit guilty about not doing work lor! It's just that I seem to have gone all stupid and dumb and incapable of writing comprehensible slides about marketing and campaigns and product launches and what not!
Speaking of being dumb and stupid, I now come to the second point of "Is it just me? Or can anybody else relate to this", which is, I'm feeling dumb and stupid.
Or maybe, it's not just a feeling, but I am really dumb and stupid.
These moments of self doubt are there all the time. It's almost every other minute that I go "I shouldn't have said that, or done that."
I shouldn't sneeze. I shouldn't run. I shouldn't smile. I should smile more. I should talk softer. I should have been firmer. I should take a bus. I should take MRT. I shouldn't take MRT. I should walk. I shouldn't have walked, it's so hot. Well, you get the idea...
Sometimes I wonder, is this normal? Am I suffering from an undiscovered mental condition? Do people ever stop obsessing about anything and eveything? Boy it must be nice to feel like I'm right all the time.
So, the question is, is it just me?
I guess I'll feel better if it's not just me and that everybody else goes through the same thing too.
Then the next thing is, I'll feel depressed that everybody else seems to be handling it better than me!
Hahahahahaha...
Oh dear I'm becoming as Obsessive Complusive. *scream*
Because the things I should be doing I don't want to do. And the things I should do less of, I keep doing.
Examples of things I should be doing that I don't feel like doing, or am not doing are: 1. Work 2. Work 3. Work
And the stuff that I should be doing less of, like sleeping, shopping, spending money, sugar binging, swimming (they all seem to start with "s"!), I just want to do the whole day long!
Like right now, when I rightfully should be putting in my eight hours worth of hard work for my employee, all I want to do is to go to sleep, or shopping. Even better still if I can go both at the same time. But with things the way they are i.e. I need the money that comes from the job to put bacon on the table, and can't afford to get sacked, I just have to be contented with blogging during office hours. And thinking of legitimate ways to actually not have to go to work.
Lest you think I'm the skiving conniving unethical employee, I am feeling that teeny-weeny bit guilty about not doing work lor! It's just that I seem to have gone all stupid and dumb and incapable of writing comprehensible slides about marketing and campaigns and product launches and what not!
Speaking of being dumb and stupid, I now come to the second point of "Is it just me? Or can anybody else relate to this", which is, I'm feeling dumb and stupid.
Or maybe, it's not just a feeling, but I am really dumb and stupid.
These moments of self doubt are there all the time. It's almost every other minute that I go "I shouldn't have said that, or done that."
I shouldn't sneeze. I shouldn't run. I shouldn't smile. I should smile more. I should talk softer. I should have been firmer. I should take a bus. I should take MRT. I shouldn't take MRT. I should walk. I shouldn't have walked, it's so hot. Well, you get the idea...
Sometimes I wonder, is this normal? Am I suffering from an undiscovered mental condition? Do people ever stop obsessing about anything and eveything? Boy it must be nice to feel like I'm right all the time.
So, the question is, is it just me?
I guess I'll feel better if it's not just me and that everybody else goes through the same thing too.
Then the next thing is, I'll feel depressed that everybody else seems to be handling it better than me!
Hahahahahaha...
Oh dear I'm becoming as Obsessive Complusive. *scream*
Monday, September 11, 2006
What if you had one day left to live?
Birds of a feather flock together. So the friends and I were happily discussing morbid stuff about what would we do if we discovered we had one day more to live.
Some were determined to do everything they had always ever wanted to do but never ever had the chance to do into that one short day. By that, I suppose they want to fulfill their fantasies of kissing every girl within reach or finally lambasting their bosses, colleagues, so-called friends for being such irritating gutless idiots who are even lesser beings than pond-scum etc etc etc
The practical ones, like me, just wanted to make inform everybody and say a proper goodbye, I'll miss you and have a good life.
The even more practical ones, unlike me, wanted to make sure that their will's all written out, their insurance policies all signed and in place, and to take up new policies worth a hundred million dollars.
And then and then, there were those who gave model answers like, if they found out they had only one more day to live, they will live it like how they live any other life because all they wanted to do they've already done and taken care of. And of course they went on and on about how one must always live life as if it's their last day on earth, and to be always prepared for inevitabilities, and to live a life without regrets, so that when they discover it's their last day on earth, there's no need to scramble, because there's nothing left undone or unsaid....
At which point, I rolled my eyes (in my heart lah, because cannot be rude girl mah).
I mean, the sentiment's laudable, wanting to live a life without regrets. But really and seriously, even if I've been an absolute angel all your life, which I haven't, when faced with deat in 24 hours, I will still find myself speechless, dumbstrucked, dazed, and all of the above. Because hello, this is death we're talking about!!!!
I shall not even start on the topic. It's so deep and cheem and fantastic a topic, I have absolutely nothing to say about it!
But whatever it is, you get my drift, dying is a big thing. But frankly, I don't think there's any way one can live one's life in a way that there are absolutely no room for regrets. For most of us, if we're going to live our lives that way, we'll probably cut off 95% of all activities. Heck, if I were dying tomorrow, I wouldn't even show up for work today!
The truth of the matter is, dying and living, means two different ways of 'living' altogether. The former concentrates on dying, the latter on living. That's why for the latter, banal ordinary things like putting bread on the table, activities for leisure and being politically correct are important. If you're dying, you'll probably throw a fit if asked go out of the way to be nice to someone you can't stand in the first place. Because perspectives have changed you see, and therefore, so have priorities.
So, live your life with the idea of living, not dying. Just make a mental note while you're at it, that while living, don't forget that someday you'll be dying, and you at least have lived a life worth living, and one that you enjoyed.
Anyway, I'm going to go write my will now, so as to free up the last 24 hours of my life, if and when it really comes, for other things, like enjoying a calorie-laden triple chocolate cake....
Some were determined to do everything they had always ever wanted to do but never ever had the chance to do into that one short day. By that, I suppose they want to fulfill their fantasies of kissing every girl within reach or finally lambasting their bosses, colleagues, so-called friends for being such irritating gutless idiots who are even lesser beings than pond-scum etc etc etc
The practical ones, like me, just wanted to make inform everybody and say a proper goodbye, I'll miss you and have a good life.
The even more practical ones, unlike me, wanted to make sure that their will's all written out, their insurance policies all signed and in place, and to take up new policies worth a hundred million dollars.
And then and then, there were those who gave model answers like, if they found out they had only one more day to live, they will live it like how they live any other life because all they wanted to do they've already done and taken care of. And of course they went on and on about how one must always live life as if it's their last day on earth, and to be always prepared for inevitabilities, and to live a life without regrets, so that when they discover it's their last day on earth, there's no need to scramble, because there's nothing left undone or unsaid....
At which point, I rolled my eyes (in my heart lah, because cannot be rude girl mah).
I mean, the sentiment's laudable, wanting to live a life without regrets. But really and seriously, even if I've been an absolute angel all your life, which I haven't, when faced with deat in 24 hours, I will still find myself speechless, dumbstrucked, dazed, and all of the above. Because hello, this is death we're talking about!!!!
I shall not even start on the topic. It's so deep and cheem and fantastic a topic, I have absolutely nothing to say about it!
But whatever it is, you get my drift, dying is a big thing. But frankly, I don't think there's any way one can live one's life in a way that there are absolutely no room for regrets. For most of us, if we're going to live our lives that way, we'll probably cut off 95% of all activities. Heck, if I were dying tomorrow, I wouldn't even show up for work today!
The truth of the matter is, dying and living, means two different ways of 'living' altogether. The former concentrates on dying, the latter on living. That's why for the latter, banal ordinary things like putting bread on the table, activities for leisure and being politically correct are important. If you're dying, you'll probably throw a fit if asked go out of the way to be nice to someone you can't stand in the first place. Because perspectives have changed you see, and therefore, so have priorities.
So, live your life with the idea of living, not dying. Just make a mental note while you're at it, that while living, don't forget that someday you'll be dying, and you at least have lived a life worth living, and one that you enjoyed.
Anyway, I'm going to go write my will now, so as to free up the last 24 hours of my life, if and when it really comes, for other things, like enjoying a calorie-laden triple chocolate cake....
Monday, August 21, 2006
Let's be friends....
"Friends? Friends? How do we be friends? No" Meredith says.....
To Dr McDreamy of course, who else.
(Oh god, I seem to be quoting everything from Grey's Anatomy nowadays?
But seriously, how do 2 people who are seriously in love with each other, but who can't be together, stay as friends?
How did they do it? Or are they going to remain as just friends? (Tune in every Monday night, 11pm, on Channel 5.. Haha..)
I've never been able to manage that feat so far. It's always been too hard, too painful, and just too insane. Even to this day, there some from whom I will run from should I run into them in the streets.
And it's sad, really, losing friends....
To Dr McDreamy of course, who else.
(Oh god, I seem to be quoting everything from Grey's Anatomy nowadays?
But seriously, how do 2 people who are seriously in love with each other, but who can't be together, stay as friends?
How did they do it? Or are they going to remain as just friends? (Tune in every Monday night, 11pm, on Channel 5.. Haha..)
I've never been able to manage that feat so far. It's always been too hard, too painful, and just too insane. Even to this day, there some from whom I will run from should I run into them in the streets.
And it's sad, really, losing friends....
People are people....
People are social beings. Or so they say.
But lately, I'm getting fed-up and sick of the people that are around me. Life just gets so much more complicated and annoying when one is surrounded by too many people.
And I'm not even talking about colleagues. I'm talking about people who're suppose to be friends - the people I'm suppose to feel most comfortable with, and can rely on etc etc etc.
Yeah right.
People are people. And that means they have their own idiosyncracies and their own annoying habits and traits. Some talk too much. Some talk too fast. Some complain too much. Some should just shut up. For the less harmless, they have certain hidden agendas and need you to help them fulfill their purposes.
Maybe that's the reason why I want to keep to myself a little more. You never know what kind of people they are until you know what kind of people they are.
So I'm going to disappear for a while, until I become less cranky at least.
But lately, I'm getting fed-up and sick of the people that are around me. Life just gets so much more complicated and annoying when one is surrounded by too many people.
And I'm not even talking about colleagues. I'm talking about people who're suppose to be friends - the people I'm suppose to feel most comfortable with, and can rely on etc etc etc.
Yeah right.
People are people. And that means they have their own idiosyncracies and their own annoying habits and traits. Some talk too much. Some talk too fast. Some complain too much. Some should just shut up. For the less harmless, they have certain hidden agendas and need you to help them fulfill their purposes.
Maybe that's the reason why I want to keep to myself a little more. You never know what kind of people they are until you know what kind of people they are.
So I'm going to disappear for a while, until I become less cranky at least.
I'm not fat!
I'm not fat! It's just that my clothes are a tad too small!
I just need to get bigger clothes.
Hahah....
PS And so what if I'm fat? At least I'm not ugly!
I just need to get bigger clothes.
Hahah....
PS And so what if I'm fat? At least I'm not ugly!
Wednesday, August 09, 2006
Grey's Anatomy
Grey's Anatomy shows every Monday night, at 11pm on Channel 5.
And I will not go to bed until the final moment of the show. I stay put even for the adverts because I want to make sure I do not miss a single moment of the show.
As you should all be able to tell by now, all you clever folks, Grey's Anatomy is my favouritest show in the whole wide world! And do I dare say, of all time?
I mean, what's not to love? Besides of having the crucial ingredients for any drama, which is having good-looking men and good-looking women, it's also funny, sensitive, touching, and intelligent and actually has a credible story-line and plot. What more can I ask for?
And the most amazing thing is, after every single episode of the show, I come away from it, feeling a little bit more and thinking a little bit more. I mean, that is an amazing feat in itself, a show that is able to make its viewers not just feel, but think as well. That, in itself, seems very much like a contradiction even. So far, my other favourite shows have never even come closed to accomplishing this.
Right now, I'm intrigued by Meredith and Dr Shepherd's relationship. They are some of the best-looking people that I've seen in my life. Well, to put into perspective my sentiments towards these two people - Meredith is what I will want to look like, perhaps slightly younger, if I opted to go for plastic surgery; and Dr Shepherd is someone with whom I wouldn't mind having an affair with, if I wanted to have an affair that is.
But seriously, I really wonder how they do it. How do 2 people who are so in love with each other, manage to be co-workers, and to endure seeing each other, day in day out everyday, like they do? How does the wife manage to keep her sanity being in the same place as her husband's mistress, and knowing that the one he loves is not herself?
I may not not agree totally with the morals portrayed in this show (but that is a separate topic of discussion in itself!), but how I do feel for Meredith, for her love-lorness and her quiet but desperate longing for the man she loves.
In fact, I can almost feel how much she aches, and how with every beat of her heart, that longing and desperation is pumped through her blood vessels to every cell of her body. Until her eyes, her body-language, her eveything spells out and emanates that quiet ache and unhappiness. It's just so... real.
And I guess that's what makes Grey's Anatomy a great show.
And I will not go to bed until the final moment of the show. I stay put even for the adverts because I want to make sure I do not miss a single moment of the show.
As you should all be able to tell by now, all you clever folks, Grey's Anatomy is my favouritest show in the whole wide world! And do I dare say, of all time?
I mean, what's not to love? Besides of having the crucial ingredients for any drama, which is having good-looking men and good-looking women, it's also funny, sensitive, touching, and intelligent and actually has a credible story-line and plot. What more can I ask for?
And the most amazing thing is, after every single episode of the show, I come away from it, feeling a little bit more and thinking a little bit more. I mean, that is an amazing feat in itself, a show that is able to make its viewers not just feel, but think as well. That, in itself, seems very much like a contradiction even. So far, my other favourite shows have never even come closed to accomplishing this.
Right now, I'm intrigued by Meredith and Dr Shepherd's relationship. They are some of the best-looking people that I've seen in my life. Well, to put into perspective my sentiments towards these two people - Meredith is what I will want to look like, perhaps slightly younger, if I opted to go for plastic surgery; and Dr Shepherd is someone with whom I wouldn't mind having an affair with, if I wanted to have an affair that is.
But seriously, I really wonder how they do it. How do 2 people who are so in love with each other, manage to be co-workers, and to endure seeing each other, day in day out everyday, like they do? How does the wife manage to keep her sanity being in the same place as her husband's mistress, and knowing that the one he loves is not herself?
I may not not agree totally with the morals portrayed in this show (but that is a separate topic of discussion in itself!), but how I do feel for Meredith, for her love-lorness and her quiet but desperate longing for the man she loves.
In fact, I can almost feel how much she aches, and how with every beat of her heart, that longing and desperation is pumped through her blood vessels to every cell of her body. Until her eyes, her body-language, her eveything spells out and emanates that quiet ache and unhappiness. It's just so... real.
And I guess that's what makes Grey's Anatomy a great show.
Happy National Day
Today's a holiday, and guess how I spent the rare and well-deserved holiday?
I spent the entire day at home, lounging around, watching TV or just doing absolutely nothing. And I consider it a day well-spent, and only wished I had more time to 'vegetate' myself into oblivion.
But alas, my one day of break is almost over, and it's back to the grindstone at work tomorrow. (Until my next weekend break in Malaysia at least. Oh boy I can't wait! An entire weekend of vegetating!)
Anyway, the day wasn't ill-spent. I learnt a couple of recipes watching The Naked Chef cook, with clothes on. I managed to travel off the well-beaten track with Ian Wright. (The guy's a riot!), not to mention stay in a US$7,000 a night villa with him. (I wish I had a villa next to the sea too, with a valet to unpack my clothes and a butler to feed me orange juice when I emerge from underwater when swimming!)
I watched "Judging Amy", "Life As It Is", "Seinfield", "The Rock" and loads of other little bits and pieces here and there. Not too bad an effort for a whole day of being a coach potato is it?
I read the papers back to back, as well as finished the last bit of the Jasper Fforde novel "The Big Over Easy". Looking for something else to read, I tried the Chinese papers as well, and read about Faye Wong bringing her possibly hare-lipped infant daughter to the US for plastic surgery.
I planned my lunch plans for the next few days, and as an after-thought, thought about going on a diet, though that thought only lasted for all of 5 seconds before I reached for a bag of chips. (What is marathon TV watching without junk food I ask you?!) I started thinking a little bit about work, but gave up after about 5 minutes. I mean, it's a holiday after all, I'll think about what I'm suppose to think about tomorrow, or if I really have to. And I'm also thinking when I can find time to take off and watch a movie called "Crazy Stone" by China's version of the brilliant Tarantino.
I contemplated changing my career, from one who entails my sitting at my desk on my big butt 8 hours a day, to travel show host, an actress, to owning a ranch, being a fisherman, or just a salesgirl. My career choice was largely dependant on what show was on TV at that point in time.
I mean, seriously, heck, I can do anything I want to do, And surely, I'm entitled to doing something I find interesting and like. Like Ian Wright. Like Anthony Bourdain. Like Jamie Oliver. Like the guy who likes climbing mountains who has a job bring tourists mountain climbing. Heck! I want a job like that too!
I think I'll go sit down for a while and figure out what job it is that I want to do.
But maybe I should switch off the telly first.
Geez! I really should stop watching so much TV!
I spent the entire day at home, lounging around, watching TV or just doing absolutely nothing. And I consider it a day well-spent, and only wished I had more time to 'vegetate' myself into oblivion.
But alas, my one day of break is almost over, and it's back to the grindstone at work tomorrow. (Until my next weekend break in Malaysia at least. Oh boy I can't wait! An entire weekend of vegetating!)
Anyway, the day wasn't ill-spent. I learnt a couple of recipes watching The Naked Chef cook, with clothes on. I managed to travel off the well-beaten track with Ian Wright. (The guy's a riot!), not to mention stay in a US$7,000 a night villa with him. (I wish I had a villa next to the sea too, with a valet to unpack my clothes and a butler to feed me orange juice when I emerge from underwater when swimming!)
I watched "Judging Amy", "Life As It Is", "Seinfield", "The Rock" and loads of other little bits and pieces here and there. Not too bad an effort for a whole day of being a coach potato is it?
I read the papers back to back, as well as finished the last bit of the Jasper Fforde novel "The Big Over Easy". Looking for something else to read, I tried the Chinese papers as well, and read about Faye Wong bringing her possibly hare-lipped infant daughter to the US for plastic surgery.
I planned my lunch plans for the next few days, and as an after-thought, thought about going on a diet, though that thought only lasted for all of 5 seconds before I reached for a bag of chips. (What is marathon TV watching without junk food I ask you?!) I started thinking a little bit about work, but gave up after about 5 minutes. I mean, it's a holiday after all, I'll think about what I'm suppose to think about tomorrow, or if I really have to. And I'm also thinking when I can find time to take off and watch a movie called "Crazy Stone" by China's version of the brilliant Tarantino.
I contemplated changing my career, from one who entails my sitting at my desk on my big butt 8 hours a day, to travel show host, an actress, to owning a ranch, being a fisherman, or just a salesgirl. My career choice was largely dependant on what show was on TV at that point in time.
I mean, seriously, heck, I can do anything I want to do, And surely, I'm entitled to doing something I find interesting and like. Like Ian Wright. Like Anthony Bourdain. Like Jamie Oliver. Like the guy who likes climbing mountains who has a job bring tourists mountain climbing. Heck! I want a job like that too!
I think I'll go sit down for a while and figure out what job it is that I want to do.
But maybe I should switch off the telly first.
Geez! I really should stop watching so much TV!
Monday, July 31, 2006
The Ghost Whisperer??
First there was the Horse Whisperer.
Now there's the Ghost Whisperer.
(There sure are a lot of things to whisper to aren't there? I shan't even go there...)
For the uninitiated, the Ghost Whisperer is the newest drama serial to hit the screens of Singapore prime time TV. Starring the ever delectable Jennifer Love-Hewitt (JLH), it's about her character having the uncanny gift of speaking to ghosts. So she tries using her gift to better the nether world; she talks to these spirits to try to fulfil their last wishes so they can go on to the other side in peace.
Anyway, I managed to catch portions of the first episode.
So there she was, talking to the spirit of a soldier who died in the Vietnam War or something. And his meeting with JLH was nothing more than a meeting to brief her on the things he wanted her to find out; things like what happened to his wife, his son and what not.
Dying may not be anyone's favourite past-time, but surely there are advantages to being a ghost. From what I gathered from all the television I've watched, ghosts are suppose to be able to walk through walls, and are invisible, and can fly or float as well.
I mean, GI Joe can surely his own way back home and haunt his family or something right? And being a ghost, you can surely talk to the living right? True, he may scare his family shitless, but hey, at least he tried! But no, he sits on his butt for the next couple of decades, until he finally meets JLH, and then he gets her to fulfill all his life's wishes. Finally, GI Joe's dreams come true! *rolls eyes*
And poor JLH has to go around trying to do all the errands that GI Joe asks her to do - find out this, find out that, talk to this person, talk to that person. I mean, doesn't she have some kind of daytime job? Then how does she survive? At least, if there's money in the dead people concierge cum private detective service that she seems to be operating, then I can understand her nice skimpy clothes and the nice house she stays in. I mean, her husband's not exactly rolling in cash as well, being an ambulance drive cum medic.
Anyway, it's one of the most boring shows I've even seen, even worse than Desperate Housewives. At least Desperate Housewives has some redeeming qualities, like the eye-candy and the nice clothes and the good-looking men.
There's nothing in the Ghost Whisperer for me to want to even watch a second episode. I don't think JLH's pretty, or at least, I cannot endure watching her for more than 5 minutes. I don't even like the concept behind the show. And from what I've seen, the stories are just lame!
And that's me being the critic. I'll wait and see what other critics have to say about it...
I'm so bored with the show, I can't even write an interesting blog on it. Well, maybe that's my fault, for being boring!!!
Now there's the Ghost Whisperer.
(There sure are a lot of things to whisper to aren't there? I shan't even go there...)
For the uninitiated, the Ghost Whisperer is the newest drama serial to hit the screens of Singapore prime time TV. Starring the ever delectable Jennifer Love-Hewitt (JLH), it's about her character having the uncanny gift of speaking to ghosts. So she tries using her gift to better the nether world; she talks to these spirits to try to fulfil their last wishes so they can go on to the other side in peace.
Anyway, I managed to catch portions of the first episode.
So there she was, talking to the spirit of a soldier who died in the Vietnam War or something. And his meeting with JLH was nothing more than a meeting to brief her on the things he wanted her to find out; things like what happened to his wife, his son and what not.
Dying may not be anyone's favourite past-time, but surely there are advantages to being a ghost. From what I gathered from all the television I've watched, ghosts are suppose to be able to walk through walls, and are invisible, and can fly or float as well.
I mean, GI Joe can surely his own way back home and haunt his family or something right? And being a ghost, you can surely talk to the living right? True, he may scare his family shitless, but hey, at least he tried! But no, he sits on his butt for the next couple of decades, until he finally meets JLH, and then he gets her to fulfill all his life's wishes. Finally, GI Joe's dreams come true! *rolls eyes*
And poor JLH has to go around trying to do all the errands that GI Joe asks her to do - find out this, find out that, talk to this person, talk to that person. I mean, doesn't she have some kind of daytime job? Then how does she survive? At least, if there's money in the dead people concierge cum private detective service that she seems to be operating, then I can understand her nice skimpy clothes and the nice house she stays in. I mean, her husband's not exactly rolling in cash as well, being an ambulance drive cum medic.
Anyway, it's one of the most boring shows I've even seen, even worse than Desperate Housewives. At least Desperate Housewives has some redeeming qualities, like the eye-candy and the nice clothes and the good-looking men.
There's nothing in the Ghost Whisperer for me to want to even watch a second episode. I don't think JLH's pretty, or at least, I cannot endure watching her for more than 5 minutes. I don't even like the concept behind the show. And from what I've seen, the stories are just lame!
And that's me being the critic. I'll wait and see what other critics have to say about it...
I'm so bored with the show, I can't even write an interesting blog on it. Well, maybe that's my fault, for being boring!!!
My life ambition...
..is to be a slob...
Can?
I'm a slob at heart.
I'm never really happy unless and until I'm dressed like some bedraggled tramp, in truly baggy and seasoned clothes that've seen better days, sans make-up, with my hair all tied up and out of the way, and without shoes.
From the above, it's quite obvious...
I don't like having my hair in my face. I'm seriously contemplating whether to cut my hair short. The disadvantage of having short hair? It's too short to tie up and truly be out of my face's way.
I don't like wearing things on my feet. I like wiggling my toes, and one jolly can't wiggle them with shoes on!
I don't like having stuff on my face. Because I like the liberty of being able to rub my eyes without worrying about smudging mascara. And be able to drink water without worrying about whether the petroleum products I'm swallowing will give me cancer.
I don't like to wear clothes. And if I have to wear them, the less of them I can feel against my skin, the better.
In short, I'm a slob at heart.
So, the more well-groomed I look, the likes of my being in a worse mood than normal, is there.
So am I allowed to be as sloppy as I want to be?! Please please.....
Can?
I'm a slob at heart.
I'm never really happy unless and until I'm dressed like some bedraggled tramp, in truly baggy and seasoned clothes that've seen better days, sans make-up, with my hair all tied up and out of the way, and without shoes.
From the above, it's quite obvious...
I don't like having my hair in my face. I'm seriously contemplating whether to cut my hair short. The disadvantage of having short hair? It's too short to tie up and truly be out of my face's way.
I don't like wearing things on my feet. I like wiggling my toes, and one jolly can't wiggle them with shoes on!
I don't like having stuff on my face. Because I like the liberty of being able to rub my eyes without worrying about smudging mascara. And be able to drink water without worrying about whether the petroleum products I'm swallowing will give me cancer.
I don't like to wear clothes. And if I have to wear them, the less of them I can feel against my skin, the better.
In short, I'm a slob at heart.
So, the more well-groomed I look, the likes of my being in a worse mood than normal, is there.
So am I allowed to be as sloppy as I want to be?! Please please.....
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
An under-achiever and proud of it?
I'm thinking Bart Simpson in The Simpsons.
He's an under-achiever and he's proud of it. Or so he claims.
Well, step aside Bart, because moi's claiming that space too!
Somebody left a comment on my blog once, that I seem to show the worst bits of myself to people around me.
Yep, that seems to be me alright. Although I'll have to clarify, I don't actually do it on purpose, sometimes setting myself up. It just happens! It's just some reflex action for me to act stoopid I think.
So, I'm an under-achiever in the eyes of many.
And frankly, I'm not too proud of it.
If only I can figure out how NOT to do that...
He's an under-achiever and he's proud of it. Or so he claims.
Well, step aside Bart, because moi's claiming that space too!
Somebody left a comment on my blog once, that I seem to show the worst bits of myself to people around me.
Yep, that seems to be me alright. Although I'll have to clarify, I don't actually do it on purpose, sometimes setting myself up. It just happens! It's just some reflex action for me to act stoopid I think.
So, I'm an under-achiever in the eyes of many.
And frankly, I'm not too proud of it.
If only I can figure out how NOT to do that...
Thursday, June 29, 2006
I think I can...
"I think I can... I think I can... I think I can... I think I can..." and so chuffed Thomas the Tank Engine.
After my last very depressing blog, I've had comments from friends asking me to buck up, and buck up I shall!
But seriously, it's not as easy as I'm making it sound, this personal attempt at "bucking up". It's not as if I just got out of bed one morning, and everything has turned the right way round again.
Inspirational shows and pep talks can only do so much for one, but one slides right back into the hole from which one crawled out of, after the hype and the fizz from these temporary measures have disappeared. In fact, I feel worse because the hype bubbles burst leaving me even more bewildered and confused.
And that was what's been happening to me. And my desperate attempts at saving myself from slipping into that deep dark hole of deep dark feelings were quite futile. I just felt worse every time.
Like I mentioned the last time, I felt like I was existing for the mere sake of existing you see. Take away my work, my friends, and I found that I was left with nothing in myself. My worth seemed to be in the things I do and the people I surround myself with. Outside of that, I had no personal worth. I didn't believe in myself, I don't like myself, I couldn't imagine the possibility of tomorrow being a better day.
But maybe it was a good thing. Because I came to the end of myself, and had to face myself for what I really am, for the very first time.
And what they say is true, truth hurts. Especially if it's about yourself.
For a while, I felt even worse. I mean, I already got to the point where I thought my existence was non-essential. Worse still, now I think my existence in fact makes the world a worse place. At least, that's what I thought.
But the incredible thing about truth is, after the hurt comes the healing.
I am still very much feeling raw and bruised from all that self-revelations I made myself face recently. But the incredible thing is, I also feel a sense of release, a lifting of burden for I'm now free from all pretensions and superficiality and lies.
And now, it's time to start afresh and anew.
It's still not easy. I still have my bad days. But at least, I seem to have re-discovered hope.
Because, you see, hope is what keeps us alive...
After my last very depressing blog, I've had comments from friends asking me to buck up, and buck up I shall!
But seriously, it's not as easy as I'm making it sound, this personal attempt at "bucking up". It's not as if I just got out of bed one morning, and everything has turned the right way round again.
Inspirational shows and pep talks can only do so much for one, but one slides right back into the hole from which one crawled out of, after the hype and the fizz from these temporary measures have disappeared. In fact, I feel worse because the hype bubbles burst leaving me even more bewildered and confused.
And that was what's been happening to me. And my desperate attempts at saving myself from slipping into that deep dark hole of deep dark feelings were quite futile. I just felt worse every time.
Like I mentioned the last time, I felt like I was existing for the mere sake of existing you see. Take away my work, my friends, and I found that I was left with nothing in myself. My worth seemed to be in the things I do and the people I surround myself with. Outside of that, I had no personal worth. I didn't believe in myself, I don't like myself, I couldn't imagine the possibility of tomorrow being a better day.
But maybe it was a good thing. Because I came to the end of myself, and had to face myself for what I really am, for the very first time.
And what they say is true, truth hurts. Especially if it's about yourself.
For a while, I felt even worse. I mean, I already got to the point where I thought my existence was non-essential. Worse still, now I think my existence in fact makes the world a worse place. At least, that's what I thought.
But the incredible thing about truth is, after the hurt comes the healing.
I am still very much feeling raw and bruised from all that self-revelations I made myself face recently. But the incredible thing is, I also feel a sense of release, a lifting of burden for I'm now free from all pretensions and superficiality and lies.
And now, it's time to start afresh and anew.
It's still not easy. I still have my bad days. But at least, I seem to have re-discovered hope.
Because, you see, hope is what keeps us alive...
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