i am

21 11 2009

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

20 11 2009

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

18 11 2009

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

17 11 2009

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

15 11 2009

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.

night 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

15 11 2009

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.

6F25FCDD73E4EF8544D7791A2526F6

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.





the perfect family and a dead sister.

14 11 2009

this post has been in a draft form for days cos i keep forgetting to finish it.

i am still eternally grateful for z to teman me the whole of tues. we had barely 3 hours of sleep yet she was with me till midnight the next day. even when her bf had some problems which she should attend to. i think worse was for kechik cos she needs to work wad with consecutive days of little sleep. yup. im at fault.
sigh. when z suggested watching a movie i thot great. nice huge comfy chairs so at least she can rest. nice.

i remembered there were several missed calls frm sh. i thot…i can only handle so many friends at this time. shud get back to her tomorrow or the day after. big fucking mistake. i should have met her earlier. i should have stopped consuming myself w my own crap and see her.sighh.. did damage control the day after…thank god. DUN EVER DO THAT AGAIN MASH. JUST FUCKING DUN!!!

so then we watched my sister’s keeper. yeah…sob fest alert. everyone around me was crying like mad and i was well-acquainted with mucus-filled nostrils throughout the whole movie. only, i was certain i was crying for different reasons from the audience.

that whole fucking movie, the whole storyline, was made up of characters who are perfect, perfect in their roles, but dealt with a dying, and then dead, child/sister. but everyone played their part well. no one was selfish, no one was incompetent, and i didnt see any resentment even tho kate/katie mentioned it.

the movie was mocking my family. the movie portrayed everything that my family failed to be. we failed. i fail.

the dad, was a perfect dad, completely intuned w the thoughts and feelings of his daughters. he had memories of his little girls as babies crying or him gg over their homeworks when they were older…he brought them to the beach cos he knew that was what she wants despite the mom’s violent reaction. he was the perfect father. someone i never had. i bawled like crazy when he brought his daughter to his firemen place and he stood at the threshold, watching her and reminisce of the time when she was little and then growing up, when she was dependent on their thoughts and opinions and instructions. my dad never looked at me that way. he never even mentioned i was a cute baby when all my relatives kept reminding me that (i turned out pretty different from what they thought i would be). he never willingly sat at the the dining table NOT at the head of the table to hold family discussions where everyone can voice their ideas, thoughts, feelings…he din care for communication. all he give a shit to was his position as the HEAD of the family. ironic how his ‘head’ aint working now eh daddy??? fuck you.

the boy, the dying girl and that abigail person. wads her character name..anna…were all perfect brother, sister daughters son…they all behaved for the benefit of the whole family. selflessly and lovingly. Katie wanna just die cos the cancer was killing her family. the brother played the silent strong one cos the others needed the attention more. anna pit herself against her parents cos she wanna fulfil her sister’s wish and let the mom chill. the mom was a superwoman, strong and dependable and knew wad to do, when to do, had the expertise and the strength…

and damn…the relationship btw the anna and kate was fucking enviable. damn sweet. heck..the relationship between any two of them was enviable.

halfway into the movie, i was thinking…fucking wrong movie…big fucking mistake. shouldve avoid movies about families…shouldve avoid movies that will make me cry…and worse..i was crying at totally different timings from the audience. they were crying at moments the directors meant it to be touching. i was crying at stuff that were personal to me. i think crying without sound is a freaking irritating feat. and bloody hell the theatre was echoey. i mean seriously man..bawling repeatedly for days…not healthy dude. not healthy…siggghhhh

there were some touching songs in the movie…but i remembered one line distinctly.

“heaven is a place where nothing happens”..

sad…but true aint it…i wish nothing happened to me…i wish nothing happened to Sh too…god help her..cos i dun have the strength now to help her…
seriously man…DUDE…up there…can you bloody time our shit differently…so at least we can help each other out???

major sigh.

and fuck sunday. fuck 137. fuck F.





happy birthday

13 11 2009

promised myself that its gg to be her day.
she needs to celebrate. its her birthday celebration. she should be happy. she should have lots of fun without any ‘disruptions’. she is a good person and she deserves all the attention. i want her to have a good birthday.

blurry

charade is a fantastic thing. role plays..acting. when i was a child, one of my many ambitions includes being an actor. assuming an alternative persona, behaving and reacting from a profile thats different from who you are. thought i can be a pretty good one. did a few stage performances in my life. pretty proud of them. should have done more.
but life and stage are completely different things really. the heart and the body rarely want to disagree.

had to look pretty decent today, look good. cant look like ive “not slept for days”. had to look like things are getting better, in control.. so that ppl dun ask. see, i even came with the boyfriend! heeeee’ssss bbbaaaacccckkk!!..and he brought gifts too!…oh look. new ring! …puh. had to pretend things are ok. had to have fun. had to focus on the surroundings and the things at hand. being funny was never in my nature. being comical or humourous, with wits to amuse were never my talent. but i can pretend. i can fucking pretend. i can pretend ‘loudness’. i can pretend a certain ‘highness’. it doesnt really take that much effort cos at least theres someone im doing this for. for her. ive admired her and respected her all these years. i couldnt even bring myself to hate her when she was with him. but i prepared a back up plan. if i cant handle it, leave. reason is cos perhaps the fucking bf needs me. but all turned out well, i behaved like a good girl, constantly barking instructions at myself in my head.

focus focus focus. dun look at the haunting night lights too long, cos the mind will wander. dun look at the water too long, cos the face will show. dun wander by myself cos ppl will question. dun talk abt serious topics, cos my honesty will reveal itself. dun broach personal issues cos i’ll lose it. dun keep quiet for too long cos ppl will notice. dun sigh too much cos the mood will be disrupted. finish my food cos ppl will ask. participate in stuffs. listen to ppls conversations. dun stone too much. dun lament. dun chew my fingernails. dun think. so basically, dun be myself right? dun be me. cos its not good. cos its me.

so i focused. but cos i focused, i also notice certain details that i didnt need to. saw certain patterns, preferences..certain choice over.. i then put meanings and conclusions into stuff that were not necessary. i saw certain ‘connections’..observed the real joy that was within us. heard the real laughters behind me or sometimes, at my sides. im thinking.. yeah..that is actually better for he…i should stop bothering ppl. i should let them spent more time w ppl that induce real laughters in their lives.

since young, parents drilled into our heads…dun mix with bad company. make friends with people with good qualities. hang around company that can benefit you. dun mix with the mats and minahs that only have vices and bad influence. avoid ‘problematic’ ppl. deliquents..
i never really paid much attention to those warnings. but as i grew older, im understanding it on a different level. maybe those warnings were not for self-protection. its for those fucked up ppl to feel less guilty. cos they know that there are other ppl around that will benefit their friends more. that will induce more happiness, laughter in their lives..no matter what they claim.

was pretty glad 12 midnight came. acting was tiring. exhausting. id rather run 4.5km. whoever said actors have easy jobs obviously have been living pretty honest lives.

i should quarantine myself





Protected: fucking appointment

12 11 2009

This post is password protected. To view it please enter your password below:






unnecessary

11 11 2009

the whole day yesterday my head had been bengang…dunno if its cos of an impending fever cos i got myself soaked at the beach thanks to the perfectly timed rain (pandai mash) or cos really, it takes a few days for the pain frm getting whacked to heal. makes me wonder abt those professional boxers tho…how did their bodies take it, repeated beatings.

found it difficult to fall asleep these days, but once i fall asleep im like comatosed. freakishly deep slumber that im amazed that i can actually wake up from. remembered staring at z’s ceiling while waiting for slumber and listening to the rhythmic sounds of licking, of her cat, sitting below my feet, obsessed in cleaning itself. even in my own bed, my personal piece of heaven, i couldnt keep my mind at ease. images of the day’s events kept whizzing past, like an old projector, showing enlarged slides against a dull white wall. a repeated image is of my friends’ tho. her red eyes as she spoke with such earnest-ness. how troubled she was by my ‘predicament’. to my right, my dear kechik, w tears streaming down her face. a face thats usually full of smile and laughter. of sniggers and sarcastic remarks. i did this. completely unnecessary. i blotched their lives, their moods, with my crap. unnecessary. i stole hours of their rest, their peace, their attention, their energy. unnecessary. she sobbed hard on my shoulder and i caused it. what kind of person am i? why as i get older do i trouble more ppl with my crap? why cant i handle things by myself?

the other image. sand. i didnt know where to go. i couldnt even bear to look at the leaving bus as i stood at the busstop sending her off. as it rumbles further and further away from me, forlorn took over as i realised, im alone now. i looked at my hp and searched my contacts. someone. please. ‘please’ i said? who the fuck was i pleading to? God?… Azi’s name was supposed to come after Ayu in my contact list. i cant even remember this Ayu person. cant picture her face. i can remember speaking to her on several occasions. Ayu from NUS. i dont even know which faculty she was from. but Azi’s face is still fresh in my mind. ive deleted her name from my hp. but i still know where its supposed to be. but then, her line would have been dead, her arms and shoulders unavailable. as i scroll down the list, i picture the faces of my friends as i reach their names… no..no…not her..no… sigh..it was fucking terrible. terribly lonely.

i smsed N. she din reply. god decreed that she would be away from her phone. thanks. i thot, i could reach z within minutes. so near. i boarded the bus to reach her place. the same bus that left earlier. turns out, along the way i found out that shes wasnt home. shes in the west area. again, god, thanks. i thot then..ok.. Sh..no..shes too far. W..shes night shift on mon…AK was useless. so, great. just.great.

headed to the beach. thot i shall have the night sky, the stars, the sand, the waves as my companions. reached the spot. buried my toes in the sand. looked at those strangely organised ships in the corner…seeing those colourful lights emitting from the ships, from whatever life still awake on those ships, getting blurred and smudgy, forming weird pools of colours.. cos yet again i fucking need to cry. fucking cry baby. curse my huge eyes. curse my tear ducts. curse my weakness….i couldnt look at the lights anymore. sand… i couldnt bring myself to look at the sky or the sea. i dunno why..ashamed? im not sure.im really not sure..i kept my head down most of the time and let my tears fall onto the sand…i saw a lot of sand that night. sand… and then it started raining and im thinking..no..ive got no place to go. im not leaving this damn beach. no stupid rain is chasing me away. i felt the rain pierce my shirt and moist my skin. wetter and wetter. and colder..and im thinking…god is really not trying to be kind to me tonight…i felt a new low. i dunno if its due to poor memory, or that ive blocked off my past sorrows…but i dont remember feeling this fucking miserable. ppl say u can feel it when u hit rock bottom. i think im not there yet…but shit i can see it.

it seemed my whole life, the trajedies that have surfaced in my life through the years, from the moment when i could think and comprehend, were all just preparing for this damn moment. they all played a part. cumulative. they were all carefully designed, arranged and timed.. to make this moment the worst possible fucking moment ever. my childhood. the abuse frm maknormah. the repeated lies. the betrayals. the second family. my family. my repeated failures in my roles, my purposes, my relations. the divorce. the marriages. my grandparents. my cousins. my school. my trusts. my faiths. my loves. this moment seemed dependent on every fucked up moments ive experienced in my life. my pain is no longer just about what i did that night. its about what i am. who i am. everything just seemed like one big major failure. and i cant even play the victim card. cos its my fault. my faults. my doings. my incorrect reactions. my wrong choices. me.

ive never sobbed that hard. ive never wailed that loud. comfort. i needed some fucking comfort.

“where were you, where (why) were you…just a little late?”

i couldnt even properly cry my heart out cos the stupid cold was having such a great time teasing my bladder. had to pee. fantastic intermission…but really, what does crying do? ive cried every fucking day, sampai badan tak cukup air, with my freaking lips cracking and bleeding…i dun feel any better. sigh..then they came..chaos… somehow i dunno how to face them. i should thank them, i should see them and say..”hey thanks…thanks for being there for me”…but i really do not know how to handle their eyes on me, watching me like this little girl who cant handle the world. and im thinking, god..i need to fucking pray. i need some bloody shit comfort. cos i really…i dunno. i was desperate. i needed smth. smth.

that small room, has always provided me peace. that sanctuary.. through the years, whilst i was still in uniform, ive appreciated the solitude in that room. the quiet, the brightness..that night, my prayers were out of guilt. out of desperation. i spoke to god, pleading…yet everything seemed wrong cos all this while my words to him were angry words, hateful words…redha she says? i knew the meaning of redha a long time ago. i accepted my fate. many times actually. i wouldnt be alive now if i didnt. what i cant accept is me…while i din feel lonely anymore after praying, i find myself hudling to one corner of the room, listening to my own whimpers, feeling my sudden spasms, echoing in that small bright space. wanted to read the quran, but my body, my clothes were damn filthy cos of rain, sweat and stuff that i din think it was fit for me to read. hunger and dehydration set in and im thinking, its time to join the real world. sigh

im too lazy to finish this entry. so thats it. just unnecessary. the whole day…unnecessary drama, unnecessary attention. unnecessary me.