action speaks louder

didnt think this through, obviously… new areas then. dun wanna deal with those …

dun let me go…

the bright orange has lost its purpose.

he knows. im sorry tuk…. i’ll try k.

bullshit

waxing damn lyricals about this and that is so easy for some people. pretty words to induce pretty feelings. yeah yeah yeah. remind me again to call bull when i hear or read them. never believe them, no matter who says it. no matter what kind of warm fuzzy feelings those fucking words gave me. fuck you all.

slumber comes easy for with sheer exhaustion. that hardly comes with a bed. hate to be the only one awake when everyones has fallen asleep.

pies and more fucking pies

second post for the day. didnt think there was much more to say when i first got home and wrote the first entry. today was an absolute rush rush…rush downstairs cos my friend was waiting. was late, she arrived first before me. rush to hospital. we arrived slightly late. rush to work. arrived a bit late. rush through stupid financial statements cos admin was late, not me. rushed back home to put down stuff. arrived later than planned. rushed to write abt the hosp visit and post. rushed through conversation with mom. apparently the conversation came a bit late too. then rushed out to meet another friend. was late again. rushed but late…theme of the day. didnt rush home though…but i returned late…

initially, i started off the day looking forward to the busy-ness. (busy-ness or busi-ness..business) the plans i have. it will be relatively filled with pretty productive things. but when i reach home to put down my stuffs before going out a second time, my mom’s eager expression and antic hinted to me smth. at first i thought it was smth not important, just her getting jittery for nothing. but as i munched my quick meal while seated in front of her and listening to her talk, i start losing my appetite.

due to my hectic schedule for the day, i missed an occurrence at home. i cant even call it a crucial event, cos the frequency of this shit happening is getting too often to be deemed ‘crucial’. i dont know whether its a good thing or a bad thing that i wasnt there. but as the time lingered and she got deeper into the relaying of the situation that happened, as she described the details of the situation, as i watch the emotions that weighed her, my heart sank and i wanted to puke..i keep saying im getting tired of this. yet my energy gets rejuvenated somehow, only so that i can be lambasted with another round of shit. shit after shit after shit. its like im perpetually behind that pie-face-hitting station in the carnival, getting hit by kids throwing pies in my face. only its not pies that smashes my face. its shit. and its not kids throwing those shit. its the big almighty.. i know im in it for the long haul. the situation wont end soon and we wont recover in the near future. the way things are now, i know there are more bloody crap that will be uncovered, more fights, more shitty incidents and then more repercussions to those incidents…many times i believe im running out of air. i dun have the fucking stamina. its like that last few hundred metres in a run, where your muscles scream in agony and your breath gets caught somewhere and your chest convulsed in pain. and then you blink and you realised its not the last few hundred metres. you are not even halfway…you are thirsty, looking for those hands that thrust bottles of water to quench you, but those hands are empty, worse, theres no hands, no one….wad e hell is wrong with me and all these imaginations and analogies…funny thing is, i think the reality feels worse than my imaginations..

i keep coming back home late so i dun harbour ill feelings towards you with much intensity, cos the distance helps, the lack of interaction makes it easier to forget, not seeing your face allow me to focus on other things but hate. i dont know why you do the things you do. i dont know why you dun do the things you are suppose to do. i dont know why you say the things you say, or keep mum when people want to hear something from you. i dont even know whether you are thinking as much as the rest of us, feeling as much as us, but you dun appear to be so. i dont know how she is going to keep things together, i dont know how she can continue to sleep beside you..i dont know how to continue to do things im suppose to do. im watching myself screw my life up, making bad decisions and doing horrible things…losing the cohesive treads of sanity so excruciatingly slowly, its like putting my nails into the shredder in slow motion. and worse, you are making me watch my mom weaken and diminish. struggle. i keep wishing bad things to happen to you and then unwishing them cos i came from you. me mom you…we arent that many…why is it so hard…

nothing to yawn about

today i discovered a yawn can be killed halfway. like as if all that involuntary sucking in of air through the gaping mouth can be halted in mid-yawn. the body is yawning, but the mind can stop it anytime it wants. mind over body…whoa. was menguap-ing dgn so semangatnye when i looked over and caught her expression. that damn look murdered my yawn in its tracks and the next two seconds i was consciously closing my mouth and thinking, “i thought i needed oxygen?”..manage to psyche myself into yawning again to finish its initial task.

had a yawning marathon in the hosp today as i teman her to do her checkup at kk at some ungodly hour. ok not so ungodly. just unmash-ly hour. so much for pretending. i thot i was pretty good at fooling ppl, but exhaustion is smth i never manage to get a grip on and master the techniques to suggest ‘energy and robustness’. when im tired ppl can tell im tired, and today i definitely dun want her to know im tired. she has too many things to deal with today, feeling guilty for for asking me to come at 840 should not be smth she needs to feel. this stupid bitch should seriously plan her sleep, her activities. da tau nak teman orang gi clinic pagi pagi buta, buat keje siang sikit and sleep early la bodoh. ni pandai…postpone everything to last minute pastu sleep late. bodoh bahlul kecidul punye mash. when she said “alamak..penat eh?” im like aaaarrrggghhh. wanted to smack my head against the lift door.

sigh…im pretty lost at what to say to her. when it comes to bodily functions, biology and all that, im really clueless. i think health is smth i always take for granted. true, when im sick i’ll be thinking god is reminding to be bersyukur of my health, my comfort, the ease of me performing day to day tasks without any cumbersomes. i will remind myself as i queue in that damn polyclinic to think about bersyukuring often once im healthy. but with health, comes many other distractions that demand my attention, that i will again forget to bersyukur. but just now, i wasnt the sick one. she was. is.

and that completely despondent expression on her face killed me. (and my yawn). i hate this. i looked at her, she’s so beautiful with her supple skin and curly waves of hair framing her face. her eyes were cast down. i knew she felt imperfect. physically deformed. it shouldnt be this way. she shouldnt feel this way. i dont know how bad the physical pains of going through whatever they do to her in that room, but im sure there are not steambaths. she sat rigid at the edge of that stupid hard plastic chair, bruised i guessed, and im thinking, shudnt there be soft plush cushioned couches in a place like this??? i mean, especially since its that type of clinic…stupid hospital.

all i could do was let her lean on my shoulder as we wait for the doc to call her back. at times liddat i wish i was fleshier. hell, i wish i was this mega lump pillow of goose feathers for her to rest her head. i really dont know whats going on in her mind. i cant even say i know how she feels. i really dont know the words to say that wont sound insensitive. that would not discount the pain she’s feeling inside out. i mean really. what do i know abt this matter? ive never gone through it. i cant say “its ok, you can always try other ways..” fuck…so much for higher education. i still lack the brilliance to advice. to soothe. fffffuuuuuccccccckkkkk..

after, when i was abt to leave her to go to work, i told her not to think abt this until the next appointment. now im thinking maybe thats wrong. maybe she needs to think about health and the other stuff she can be bersyukur about. blessings that she still has. she will physically heal. she will, with time forget about the physical pain that she went through. maybe there will be permanent side effects. but what are these if not divine reminders?…but then again….sigh. i cant even convince myself…

i am

i didnt plan it. i didnt want it. i thought i wouldnt do it again, but i did. im sorry. i still feel it no matter what you say. i dont know how to thank you enough. i dont know how to repay you.

funny how you find relief in expression. all sorts of things were conjured, debated and reorganised in the mind…but somehow it isnt as relieving as expressing them out loud, no matter how incoherent or inexplicable. attention. audience. for some reason there’s relief when someone is listening to your thoughts and conclusions.

watched some random person walking past the bus stop as i sat there wasting time…i observed her as she walked her ‘kangkang’ walk, her mismatched pink baju kurung and blue tudung, her careless swinging of that small plastic bag in her hand. i imagined her characteristics, personality and principles. she is who she is, from her upbringing, conditioning, personal preferences, logic, emotions, experiences and fate…

she is so complex cos she is a product of a myriad of elements and chance. she is so beautiful if studied comprehensively, yet when looked at from a particular angle, can be the most ugliest thing on this earth.

i think therefore i am? i dont quite agree.

bus number 3

sometimes it takes an innocent kid to lift your mood, and it remains at the peak till you get on that damn bus home when the mood hits the bottom of the trough again.

but really, wish i have a toddler around the house more often, or maybe i should babysit more often…howcome this babysitting part-time job thing tradition so common amongst american teens never hit the asian shores? they are really fantastic depression remedies…but then again, i can imagine screaming my head off or gripping that kid between my thighs and lecturing him back front centre left right in adult language as he drifts in and out of attention, scolding him as if he is my age. it happened before and my aunt always laughed at my attempt at parenting. she said im blind to the my cousin’s age and limitation in comprehension and communication skills. its either i do that or she’ll find him in my washing machine with the lid closed. trust me, there’s enough air in that machine to last him 4 hours. only child babe, only child.

i have a bittersweet relationship with bus no. 3. i love the long journey, small heartland roads and expressway, bends and corners to create that intermittent pauses, the relatively new clean buses operating for that route so the brakes are always smooth and not nausea inducing, the balanced feeling of isolation and proximity with humans, the views which is a good mix of trees, bright lights and ppl…its one of my best bus experience… but the passengers on that bus at night all look neckdeep in ther own shit. troubled souls staring out of the windows, silently cursing and lamenting..its kinda obvious. and when they look at your black face, the response is like “join the club babe, join the club”…i bet most of the passengers wouldnt so much blink or shrug when someone just stood up all delirious and took a knife and slashed his neck..blood squirting and staining the windows and seats and the body fall limp onto that wooden floor… its expected. the mood in the bus is always so sombre and everyone always give each other enough space to drown in their own sorrows. ive seen many persons in that bus tearing, me included.

theres always the angsty teen blasting heavy metal rock or stupid trance music in his ears, the elderly, all wrinkly and age-y waiting for death, the husband who works hard 11 hours everyday and suspects the wife is fucking that bastard he met at the coffeeshop, the spinster who lives with her sister and in constant cold rivalry, the wife/mother with mounting debts and bills, the parent whose son no longer loves her and wishes her dead, the loner who is confused and aimless with no inspiration and excitement in his life…

i dunno where i belong in that imaginary list of characters, but somehow, in its own sordid way, the bus feels like home. its where i shed my facade, shut my logic and…exhale…if im happy, ill be at ease and have that quiet contentment and enjoy the scenery, if im not, ill be lost in my thoughts, torturing myself by replaying all my miseries in my head like a broken recorder…its like a lie detector really. no matter how i fool myself, being in that bus will tell me how i really am. if shit is in season, the bus ride will leave me feeling so fucking crappy (lack of adjective) yet i will still hesitate to alight.

if im a poet, ill probably write lyricals abt bus no 3. but since im not, ill just say, it feels like home.

guilt

rarely talk abt the boyfriend. hmm, come to think abt it i did write one entry on him, but i deleted it in one of my blog springcleanings. i think this blog needs a springcleaning soon too. its getting too…dark..

so things were getting out of control and i didnt handle myself well. thats abt a quick summary of the recent past. so now the boyfriend feels fucking guilty for ‘not being there’, for not being ‘my pillar of support’… plus he got a good scolding from a tiny biatch half his size..guess thats quite a hit on his ‘man-ness’..whatever. so now im getting a lot of hugs and hand patting and those sick sympathetic looks from him. firstly, men dun look very good with that “aaaawwww” expression on their face. secondly, now im feeling as if ive put him on a guilt trip. suddenly i have new things, being fed well, read through encouraging smses every damn day, and getting calls frm him with that VERY perceptible concern in his voice, suddenly he’s strapped on that red underwear and be my superman…bradder bradder…get off my case can?? the roof will collapse if it wants to, with or without you. but hell yeah, ill get mad if you are not there when the earthquake happens.

[added at the last minute, cos i dunno how to make it flowww...: which brings me to another failure of mine. im not investing enough in this relationship. im tackling it way too rationally, negating any emotional influence. i love him...i guess. but im not IN love...i dun really know what that means too. when does blind infatuation ends and real love begin. maybe sex will help solve everything. maybe. im banking on that. tapi, sometimes i jealous jugak read blogs entries of my friends talking about their sayangs/ayangs/Bs, with thousands of loving cuddly pictures. i guess i never looked at mine that way. but smth in me keep telling me he is for keeps. the rational me. most of my friends say so. sbdy even said, he is good guy, your guy, even if you dont believe it at this point of time. thanks ah...i noe im slow...]

and its not just him really, though he is the one im having the biggest problem with right now. im suspecting all the friends in the know are doing it. this accomodating attitude…that lilting tone at the end of “heeeEEYYYY mash…”….the sudden attention cos suddenly im miss popular, the flooding of sms inbox/email…(email! EMAIL..seriously W, abit the obvious dun u think? who the fuck email friends nowadays? ok..but love you still) the frequent dates, lunches, outings, surprises. its my fault too. in my attempt to ‘distribute the burden’ and not depend on one person too much, ive talked to way too many ppl. and all these ppl, are playing their roles perfectly. a quick search online will give you tips how to “help a depressed person” right??? like…oooh say…1. encourage expressions of emotions including extreme sorrow, grief, even anger 2. spend time doing enjoyable things together 3. offer to help find a therapist… i noe wad you all are doing. if im not in constant contact, korang takut suddenly i’ll disappear, be reclusive and suddenly you’ll find me at the bottom of some godforsaken flat, all dead and bloody… yes yes thank you. i have lovely friends. and i dont think i can give the same support if the roles were reversed. i say this with utmost honesty. appreciate it. really. but… BUT…i cant believe im gg to have a ‘but’…

i should not fucking complain. its wrong, so sooooo wrong… but so why am i complaining on the inside? is it pride? is it shame? what the fuck is wrong with me? (common question, no?) why cant i graciously accept help and be done with it. why, in my better times, do i look at it with a tiny bit of contempt. because you will only do this when i’m in shits right? will the hugs and holding hands still be there if this hadnt happen? will the constant meet ups be suggested if i hadnt been vulnerable? will that oh so good long talks occur if mash doesnt look like shes gonna burst out crying anytime? seriously dude. im a crybaby. my tears dun need to cause a panic. is it love.. or is it fear then? to protect oneself from that burden of knowing friend/girlfriend who then decide that to end her life…then the blame will be on you too right? the guilt is smth you dont want.. ugh…i noe im being wayyy too harsh…someones sure gonna scold me after this. im gonna get lectures. bring it on. im messed up in the head. ill admit that much. thing is, im waaay too observant for my own good. i notice stuff when times were good too. little stuffs..and i appreciate them, quietly…so when this happens and im seeing all of the ‘luurrrrrvvvvveee’ from various parties, im like rrrriiiiggghhhhttt. i like it. love it. ill admit that sometimes i depend on it. itll make or break the day. but i cant help but doubt it, cos im still me.

love me…dont just pity me… if its only pity, sympathy, empathy and wad not…i suggest you leave. ill pay you back when i can. i noe where to get sympathy. i have an appointment card remember?

temporary normality

its a heartwarming surprise to see a friend under my block awaiting my return as i trudge my way home near midnight with groceries in my hand. even if its only to pass smth or for a quick chat. i envy ppl with personal mode of transport. they can travel anytime anywhere to their hearts’ desires.

indian cuisine is still my favourite comfort food. vadai and chutney rock my socks. i did pretty well today.

dear azi #4

so i went to your 3rd tahlil. despite my earlier refusal, i figured this is about you, not my discomfort.

did the prayers, read the yaasin out loud and was touched that W practiced reading for today. she even asked me to go through with her the pronunciations before the actual thing. the previous tahlil another friend also asked the same thing from me.  did see some real grief today. beautiful you. i teared, yes, but i think maybe im coming into terms with death. maybe. even Fz said perhaps, we can get some closure from all of this. maybe. hopefully. i love you.

i did my job like a robot, washing and cleaning, tambah tambah the food, smile at guests, nod when im supposed to..did my obligatory conversations with some of your relatives. had a personal moment with your aunt. she told me not to malu malu visit her. she said she’ll always treat me like one of her own. she knew i cared for you. im thankful that she knew. it gave me some comfort. she said she always see herself as a mother to you…and me…i stared at her as she sobbed softly and im thinking, sometimes pain really open up ppl’s hearts to strangers. compassion flows more carelessly. somehow we let our guard down, trusts more willingly…during the painful times…but after? someone’s else mother said the same thing to me. for different reasons yes, but the similarity lies in the existence of pain.

i cant promise your aunt, or even you, if you are still alive today, that i’ll see her again. i don’t know if i have enough strength to tend to a relationship with her, and therefore your family, with that thought at the back of my head, that you were the link. but i will include them in my prayers, though i dun think i’m heard much. i do hope that your family will find the peace that you’ve always wanted for them. i pray that your family will start mending the broken bridges that have been damaged through years of arguments and resentment. i pray that your cousins will find friendships, love and support they need. i will pray for you. please god, hear me for this. for her, them. not me..may god bless your family. and you. beautiful you.

just

stayed at a friends house. its becoming a habit aint it. bad habit. shes falling fast asleep oredi. sigh. im sorry babe.
i guess at least i didnt cry tonight. hmm…another day huh. another day…

i dunno how a stranger can embrace someone and said she treats her like her own daughter when the real parent dun give much shit….

if you are reading this, thank you. thank you for letting me stay. thank you for the time, the distractions…thank you for you. thank you to your mom, her hospitality, her graciousness.
im not skilled at saying thanks, of uttering appropriate sincere words after being hugged. im awkward like that. always have. but im grateful. thank you.

apropos of/to nothing, here’s a pretty black wedding dress i saw on one of msn’s article. pretty. by vera wang.

i keep saying i should back off, to let my friends have space for better things. yet i feel like a parasite sometimes. hmm. shall persevere to stand on my own two feet.