just thinking

i am sometimes heartened (?) or kindled (?)…i dunno the proper vocab for this…but im touched by how ppl can be so sweet and kind.
was bitching to mah fren on the phone abt how ive not had a proper home-cooked meal for so SO long cos my mom’s not cooking anymore and i dun cook unless its for fun (n im beginning to think cooking for urself cos ure hungry and theres nothing to eat, is an incredibly sad situation.. so id rather go out)

it was a general complain, and i never complain so ppl will do things for me, but maybe i shud try to do a lil less complaining or maybe tweak my tone a bit frm now on…but my dear W, came by during lunch time with a pack of rice and some lauk daging and kacang panjang…homecooked by her mom. she said it was her mom’s idea. and even tho i was still groggy and unbathed at that time, and im sure still had crusts in my eyes cos i had to drag myself out of bed to the void deck in 1 minute flat, (i conveniently forgotten the need for tudung) i swear…i was like…amazed at how sweet this gesture is. plus even when she has been pre-warned of my kopet-ness, she topped the whole gesture with a hug. and that smile, a friend’s smile.

and that set me thinking. how come im not like that? my whole upbringing has been geared towards self-reliance…self-oriented. though im risking insulting my mom right now, i do notice during my teens, that ive never really been much of a giver or a helper compared to some ppl. cos i was taught ppl shudnt expect help frm others. my mom herself, doesnt offer help to her siblings voluntarily unless they are desperate enough to ask for it. with emphasis on self-reliance, that ‘tough’ attitude, my upbringing has conveniently left out the ‘giving’ characteristic. my parents are not givers, and in fact, i do notice my assholic dad is more of a giver than my mom. he secretly help his friends and siblings, donate to certain ppl once in a while. i cant really blame her tho. she had lead a hard life, and she pulled herself out of crap all this while without ppl’s assistance. her own family wasnt much relief. life taught her to be independent. its this same independence that she expects from others, the same independence she inculcated in me.

ppl who asked for help is deemed weak in her eyes. as if they didnt try hard enough..i used to share her perspective. and my mom has a very cynical attitude as well to the ‘offerers’ of help. like she assumed they would want their budi baik to be rewarded later. so if you receive help frm ppl, you owe them smth and now they have a stake over you which they can take advantage of anytime.

while its a defensive attitude to this whole thing, i think its sad. i think there’s a better way to live our lives than focus on being so calculative and cynical.

besides, i dunno how to be suspicious of that smile that W gave as she handed the packet. besides i love her to death even without that gesture. and besides, i have a soft spot for food. i mean, the way to my heart has always been through my stomach right?

should you let go or pull back

did some cycling w kechik tadi. well, ’some’ is an undestatement of the week seh! am suprised at how ‘on’ she is abt all this. went to all of the places ive been before with some ppl. i thot it was gg to be hard tho. ive had some good times w azi in some of those places. sigh, i love sungei punggol. i did avoid certain spots tho that invoke some kind of memory w her, for fear all falling into despondency. wudnt be fair to kechik. but i was glad both girls had diff rhythms, diff tastes..in spots, locations. both of which i was happy to oblige. things that clicked w kechik were diff from things that clicked w azi. and things that clicked w siput were COMPLETELY different frm things that click w NORMAL ppl. haha. but i still havent found someone who shares the same enthusiasm on scenery, colours, textures… i dunno. im weird

we also attempted kite flying. it didnt fly. pun intended. heh. i think sometimes, fun needs to be in moderation.

but i have to admit though, i had some reservations abt it. though i love that tiny (tiny!) girl to death, and im watching silently, how our friendship have grown and blossomed, im holding my breath the whole time…im quite well aware how fragile this friendship is actually. how easily all of this can be destroyed within such a short time, erasing and negating all the good times, rendering all of them a waste of time ad energy, turning all the good feelings into regret or worse, hate. i dunno why i worry so much, but im just waiting, waiting to see when she will get tired, burdened and disgusted. and sometimes i can find myself testing her…to see if she pulls away… ppl say i should put in more trust, have more faith. but its not that i dun have trust in them. i just know who i am.

i go through this same process with everyone have a connection with. the special few. for fear of losing them, i will maintain those i love within a safety of a group, so that therell be enough dynamics and distractions, so it will slow the process of them, figuring out that im too much to handle. the grp provide enough ‘otherness’ while i can still enjoy my time w the few in the sidelines. ppl leave, its my life. ..azi i guess, was the only breakthrough. she was the only one who figured me out, the only one who convinced me had enough strength, had enough tenacity… too bad she din have enough life.

maybe im too into myself here, too self-centred. self-oriented. me me me. but i cant help it. akhlak. its the right thing to do. i tarnish, i stain, i burden. and i want good things to happen to ppl i care about. i dun want them to be troubled. life i cant control. but me, i have a bit of control.

but for kechik, the grp thing isnt as strong. frm the first birth of our friendship if i can recall, has always been a one-on-one thing. siput, and n…it was group, and then indiv selection. m and n, c…hmmm.

i need to stop theorising and just live life. but i also need to create a buffer for expected future pains.

(my shoulders hurt…. help )

dear azi #2

my dear babe, my sweet friend who giggled after each time she sneezed, the cute girl who still slapped her forehead (with such gusto) when she forgot smth, who squinted each time she disagreed with some issue, no matter how trivial.

my dear, ive missed you much these past few months.

its been 100 days since your departure, 100 days since you left us. 100 days since i could no longer hear ur voice, 100 days since you said “hi, wot up” in ur stupid ghetto slang, 100 days since you wrapped your arm around my waist and insisted i stayed on your right side as you pulled me close. i remembered that day when we were at marina square, and i tried to wriggle away from ur side hug, and pulled me back in and said “jap…a little bit more”…i would have given you a lifetime of hugs then if i had known…

its funny how when i tried to picture the sound of your laugh, i cant quite remember it. maybe its cos u have always ketawa angin, with mulut ternganga but no sound escapes…except little cute gasps of air… i adore ur incessant need to tuck and untuck your long fringe from behind your left ear. you will be so bothered if your hair doesnt cover the sides of ur face, cos u said u will look “tembam”. it really doesnt matter babe. you are beautiful the way you are. i love how the corner of ur small eyes wrinkles as you smile or laugh, those sweet small eyes. you’ve always grumbled at the skin folds at the corner of ur eyes, but ive always admired them… i adored how they turn your eyes into lil crescent moons as you smile. those lil imperfections that made you all the more perfect.

i miss our small rituals that we do whenever we meet. how you would touch and play w the corners of my tudung for no reason…and press press my brooch. and i will play with your left earlobe btw my fingers for no reason. we both will show signs of irritation to each other but never told the other to stop. you repeatedly announce to ppl that you know my whole collection of brooches. its always the same grp of ppl my dear, and they dun care. haha. i treasure the breakfasts youve made for me (cos yes, yes, breakfasts the most impt meal of the day), the impromptu meet ups, the void deck surprises, the random 3 minute phonecalls for reasons you claim “just because…”

ive never written a letter to you when youre still alive, ive never listed why i adore, love and cherish you. heck, ive never even given you birthday card. i hope somehow through our short friendship, through my limited means, hard unfeeling exterior, you know how much you mean to me. cos i never knew fully till you left. but then again, ive always been slower than you.

you professed that you never knew the best words, the right vocab, the verbal proficiency, the right inspirational tale, but babe, you were the best chapter in my life. you bring me joy amidst my dullness, you bring me serenity and comfort amidst my pains, you bring me sense when i lost them, you provide the tenderness amidst the chaos, you remind me of the small pockets of happiness when i gave up on the world. and your touches. i have a soft spot for the human touch. you always knew how to hold me. you were generous with your embraces and always you always knew how to radiate comfort to the ppl around you. you love unconditionally, and had a big enough heart to not ever hold a grudge against me no matter how useless a friend i was to you. your hugs have never for a moment felt a bit distanced, or less snug…even after arguments. no matter how many faces i made everytime you held me, ive never once disliked it.

you are capable of holding such high regard and respect for ppl, no matter how they or life treat you unkindly. i can never share your trust in ppl, your faith in humanity. i mock your ingenuos judgements, yet ive always envied how you view the world through your eyes. you sometimes baffle me with your glee, your satisfaction in simplicity, your delight in tiny muses, when in your position, i would have declared contention with god and the world. your silent strength and ceaseless cheer, amazes me, sometimes even compels me to be a better person. the depth of the pain of losing you testifies how huge a chunk of my heart that you have captured. hours, days, weeks, months have passed since you left us, but time has only made it harder for me to breathe each day knowing you are gone. knowing i cant dial that number and await your welcoming hello at the end of the line. knowing that i can no longer see your sweet face. breathe your scent. indulge in your company. have my friend again. ive never liked cliches, mushiness… but sometimes i do relish in the saying that best friends are the siblings god denied us.

i love you my sweet girl, my best friend.

thinking of you,
mash

“If things get real for me down here,
Promise to take me to before you went away -
If only for a day.
If things get real for me down here,
Promise to take me back to the tune
We played before you went away.

And if I listen to, the sound of white,
Sometimes I hear your smile, and breathe your light.
Yeah if I listen to, the sound of white,
the sound of white.

dear azi

i decide to spring clean this blog so i decide to remove all recent entries till april of 2008 and some sedih ones before that, (with the exception of cute animal videos). there were too many painful entries. too many tragedies. and each one gave me sembap eyes the next morning no matter how many times ive read them. thats honestly, quite sad, and sick isnt it? like as if i wanna remove more than a whole year of my life. Render them a huge moment of illness. Chronologically accounted tragedies of my life were too distressing to see everytime i open this blog. This past year isnt really the best ‘chapter’ if you could call it, of my entire life. and lemme remind you im lucky enough to be acquainted with a lot of rotten shit in my 23 years. i think my life can actually be used in the next suria’s “gerimis di hati” season.or horror movie. that could work. hmm, not exactly a good thing now is it. sigggghhh.

hmmm, my past entries have been repeatedly about you..my feelings abt the void your departure created. ive since deleted them. i miss you too much and though i noe this isn’t healthy, i think im just gg to write this as if im talking to you cos im feeling a tad miserable today.

oh my god…i really cant help it. i thought i can write to you without falling into that familiar state of sorrow. but i need to see the words on the screen. i think its time i stop deluding myself and not hold back my words.

babe, my dear sweet azi, i miss you. azi, i miss you oh so fucking much. since young i thought i was capable of handling death cos i pre-empted bad things to happen. i expected to see my family members die, one by one. i expect my family members to hurt me, and betray me and leave me. you can call it self defence. i thought i was prepared to handle loss. but death of friends? your death?? the actual departure of soul from the physical body that i once befriended, love, care and pine to embrace….?

babe…i hate myself for not crying enough that day. i hate myself for willing self-control and maintaining my physical self at the hospital. i hated myself for not succumbing to my actual emotions and scream at the fucking doctors for not saving you. i detest myself for keeping quiet when i saw your mom scolded your aunt…i know you would have protected your aunt. i hated not wrangling the neck of your fucking drug addict of a cousin for causing this accident. what the fuck was he doing speeding when you were his pillon?!! i hated myself for watching those ants crawl in the crevices of the hosptal wall when your family members were tearing at the corridor. i hated myself for watching sitcoms once i reached home so i could distract myself from crying.

i also hate remembering those moments when i lost my temper and shouted at you. oh ive hurt you one too many times havent i? i hated the times when i deliberately leave and make you feel less like a friend to me when i couldnt handle the argument anymore. i regret those moments when i slammed the phone on you, cut our conversations short, or lied to you when you wanted my honesty. i hate that year by year i forget your birthdate, when i give presents late, i hate not remembering your handphone number or your home address, i hate myself for putting so lil effort in remembering the details of your life…i hate those times when i forgot the dates of your exams, when i got you the wrong shoe size for your gift. i hate not having the opportunity to bake you the soft cookies you wanted, the jello we planned to make together.

i hate not letting you know that i would have been a complete mess if you hadn’t listened, smiled, held my hand, utter your thoughts, described your plans, debated opinions, depended on me and making me feel needed, useful, significant. i hate myself for not telling you more often that i love you. i hated myself for giving you that weird uncomfortable smile when you said you loved me and gave me gifts for no rhyme or reason but never on my birthdays. i believed you babe, i do. i regret not hugging you as much as i want to. i despise myself for sacrificing time with you when you wanted to meet me and instead gave time to superficial relationships, or some stupid social obligation that i thought i needed to fulfil just because of some previous membership to a school. i hated myself for going to a fucking one month long trip to australia, and drown myself in my own fucking pain, when i should have been here, spending precious moments with you. why did i fail to count my blessings when i still had them. why did i have so little time.

i detest my incapibilities and not responding to your needs fast enough during your difficult times and only to realize much later that you have shed much tears. i hated not knowing the right words, the right jokes to make you laugh, to ease your pain when you needed my help. i hated that my movements ard you are so calculated, so measured when you have always been free with your embraces. i hated that throughout most of our friendship you were more dedicated to be there for me than i was dedicated to you. babe i didnt know you would leave so soon. i hate that i was not as good as a friend to you as you were to me. even after australia, you were helping me pick myself up instead of us spending happy moments together, dancing in your room, chatting at coffee shops, go for spontaeneous outings at the wierdest locations…

we should have gone to the zoo when you wanted to. we should have lied down on the grass of ‘Marina swirl swirl’ and counted the stars just like how you wanted. why was i so consumed with myself and my crap. i should have paid more attention to you…i should have savoured my seconds, minutes, hours with you. i should have treasured every single smile, warm glances, eye twitches, giggles and uninhibited laughters that i shared with you. i hate that god took you away instead when i have been repeatedly praying for him to take me. babe, i depended on you so much. i love you, so very much.

kechik told me today that im an aggressive friend. that im too hard. i know i am not sweet or loving. didnt you once told me that i suck at showing i care? i remembered that you told me to appreciate kechik and her friendship. i did. but i din express it. well, shes found a new friend that obviously love her in a more perceptible manner. oh god. i remember willing my facial muscles to freeze and stop itself from displaying my hurt. cos her words brought me to what you used to tell me. that i dont verbalise my love enough. that i hold back too much. that i didnt learn to be comfortable to be sweet to my friends even though i wanted to and actually needed it. i remember looking to the exit of that restaurant and wanting to just angkat kaki and leave.

she smsed me and told me she missed me. and for some stupid reason, i didnt reply that i miss her too. sounds familiar? i made up some story abt pushing the phone away, when in fact when i read the sms, i sat up and smiled and read the message again. i convinced myself that i shudnt reply back immediately cos, honestly, i think she would have regretted typing that soon enough.

thing is, sigh. the australia trip made me serik for being needy. you knew i was so ashamed for depending on kechik emotionally when i was sick with my own troubles and dragged her into the messy web that I had created. granted, that whole drama made me love her more. i thought after that episode, that our friendship was worth it and was smth that i wud wanna keep.

you know, she was the first person i wanted to speak to when i got news of your death. i wanted to run crying to her and i wanted her to tell me, that nothing happened, that you didnt leave, you didnt suffer injuries, that all i had was a bad sick dream. but i cudnt call her after i knew i was such a pain in the ass to her. i was lost. i swear to god, it was in that moment that i never felt more lonely. if i lost anyone, my first search for comfort will be from you isnt it?

sigh. lemme explain some story. kechik has this new job, which a friend of ours introduced her to. our mutual friend is really someone i have grown to highly respect and admire. with all honesty, she is a beautiful soul than i can never compare myself to. i think kechik has begun to finally realize what a great person sal is. i see kechik caring alot for sal, caring for her health, her work, her comfort, even her wants. while it was a sweet, almost charming display of friendship, i have to admit, it tugged my heart abit.

i know this also has its roots from jealousy. i was feeling bloody irrationally possessive of kechik. i dunno whats wrong w me. i keep telling myself, i lost you, i dont wanna lose her too. and lose her to someone else, a friend that i respect. but you know what. something told me i dont deserve her too right? He took you away, when you were the best gift to me. He gave my tiny share of heaven on earth, my comfort in this chaos. how then could i deserve her?

what right do i have to marr her beautiful life and relations with my stupid troubles, my evils, my kesedihan, my insecurities. shes not you. she wasnt as strong as you. she wasnt as beautiful as you, someone whose beauty wont be stained no matter how much shit (me) come into contact with you. kechik deserved a better friend, a better more happier life. i was thinking, maybe i should step back, untangle myself slowly from this little pretty happy place she has created for herself. i love that girl you know. i love how she makes me feel. i told you that didnt i. i told you i loved how much she cared for me, when she had the time. if she made time. but humans are humans. we dont have the capacity to love that many people. i dont. but at least we have wisdom choosing where to throw our garbage. dont get me wrong, i trust her with all my heart. but she cannot take me can she? before she realise that she cant stand me, and hate me, i think its less painful for me to not be close to her.

i called her once in the early morning cos well, i missed you and had a lapse of self control. She didn’t pick up my call. i cant deny the disappointment, but that day brought me some level of clarity.

i’ll say this outloud (here) : i’m jealous that she’s closer to sal than me. im jealous that she cares more for sal than me. it hurts that in her personal space, sal preceeds me. im jealous that sal gets smth i have already lost. THERE ive said it. blluueeerrggghh. lemme retch at myself. sigh…i pine for the same amount of caring that she gave to sal. i crave for the same uninhibited display of love and sweetness that she demonstrate to sal. i miss you, azi. i noe, its not right for me, not ethical even, for me to possess feelings of such jealousy, envy. i despise this neediness, this pathetic dependence of some kind of self validation from ppl that i love. maybe its natural..cos Z hinted it too right? but maybe its just sick cos its me isn’t it.

whatever it is i noe for a fact that its not my place. i had been blessed with the short-lived love from you as my best friend. i just realised it. you were my best friend. im lucky to have felt that. i think its time for me to toughen up and be strong by myself. i shouldn’t just jump to the next available ‘friend’ and force myself into her face. Fate has it that she found a colleague in a familiar acquaintance, and a beautiful friend in that colleague. since she has decide to give her love to that wonderful person, i think i shud retreat and stop showing her that i depend on her. i don’t want to fight for her love cos lets face it, im not a good friend. was I a good friend to you, azi? it hurts to noe that i wasn’t. you deserved someone with more affection, more sincere expressions of love, honesty. kechik deserved better too. so does AK right? he deserve a better woman in his life.he deserves someone who would love him with complete honesty, with unconditional generosity. he needs a woman who is stable, secure, high integrity.

Ugh. i noe i label things too much, i preconceive my judgements and come to conclusions that I don’t need to. who am i to decide for kechik. who am i to be jealous for smth that i never had, and was never deserving.

Im sick aren’t i. so sick. After reading all what I just typed, I think I have serious mental problems. Great. Just another addition to my long list of flaws. Add “psychotic”.

i wanted to begin anew. mull over my emotions and thoughts with perhaps some positivism…oh thats prolly too hard right. yes, maybe ruminate with less depression. Apparently, that wont start till after today now will it? sick mash, sick…

confessions of a 12 yr old girl

i was reading my friend’s thoughts through their blogs. their concerns of their future, happenings of their life. sometimes their words spoke with a degree of gravity, sometimes a touch of pain or grief, sometimes hints of frustration or anger, confusions, their questions …and sometimes a catharsis, purging of emotions…

somehow, though i sympathise, and at better times i empathise, today i realised most illustrations of the bitterness of their lives seem rather insignificant, almost frivolous. i quietly acknowledge the fact that some of my friends are privileged. the tj half. not obscenely rich or spoilt or trouble free. but im pretty sure most have not experienced the troubles and pains of a dysfunctional low income malay family. sure they have their problems and sure, i know people do not actually display their troubles on billboards for all to see. hence i cant proclaim their troubles to be inferior to mine or my other frens. i may be prejudiced without reason, but somehow it feels that way. i have always felt they lead better lives than me and my other non-jc frens. 

the reason that i mentioned this is because of today’s episode. today i saw real pain, real sorrows. from the eyes of a twelve year old girl. i was tutoring her, going over useless problem sums, smth about speed. distance over time gives you speed..smth she wont ever need to use in her life… then we heard her mom, my aunt scolding the rest of the kids in the other room. its not the scolding, its the voice, its the pain behind the voice. i am ten years older than her, yet i could not bear staying in her house any longer. amidst the shoutings, the crying, the frustrations hanging so thick in the air. all signs of cracks within the family. and the voice of a pained mother, wife. i am all too familiar with that voice. memories came rushing in, my mom’s silhouette by window, as she sobbed as softly as she could, towards the night sky. every night.

my cousin froze. but her fingers gripped her pen so tightly. her eyes stared at her book but i knew that they had brought her mind to a bitter place. her knuckles turned white. i know it is cliche but it really happened. we paused for 5 mins, listening to the comotion. listening to my aunts shoutings.

i wanted to grab my bag and vacate the flat as soon as possible. i wanted to do what i know best. i wanted to run away. but i cant because there are three children in the house that i care about. my aunt was screaming. but the thing that hurt my ears and my heart wasnt how loud it was. it was beneath that voice. so clear. there was pain in my aunts voice. and desperation. it was so distinctive to me. i could detect it almost immediately. then my heart broke when i saw my cousin’s face. her facial expression froze as if it was stuck in time. yet her eyes showed so much. i remember them as almost glassy. like looking into a room through a translucent jelly. like the whole chronicles of her life there right in her eyes. i remember swallowing hard. i din know how to react, to behave, to console. ive never felt so useless. here i am, her eldest cousin, the famous kaklong in the family. the favourite grandchild, the strong daughter, the smart one who made the right choices in life, the girl who didnt succumb to the fate of many malay girls of broken families. my family held me in high regard. i know that. but today at that very second, i din know wad to do. i didnt know how to tell her “its ok. its hard now, its painful now. just cry. let it out. life will get better. it will. it just will”  I FUCKING DIDNT KNOW WHAT TO DO. and i hate myself for that. hate hate it.

i should have hugged her. i should have. i should have let her cry on my chest and perhaps cry with her. i know that willl her feel better.i know it, cos thats what i wanted a long time ago. but i didnt. instead i held her shoulder and asked her “are u ok”…i wanted to kick myself when i heard myself say it. shes fucking 12 you idiot!!! right there and then i realised i am not close enough with my cousins. i am not emotionally confident. if it was close dear friend, i would have not been as clueless as what to do. she was tight lipped. she gave me a tiny nod. immediately i see her older than she need to be. she is feeling more than she need to be feeling.

i hate fate. i hate that my family has to go through this situation over and over again. i cant even count how many times it has happened on my dads side. and my mom’s…already 3 families have been hit. i HATE that i see one by one of my cousis gg through what i did years ago. and i see them failing. i see them getting distracted by the problems their family is facing. i see them finding all sorts of ways to soothe their pain. they might not burt in tears as easily as i do, but i see it. that quiet strength, shield, so desperately attempting to hide, to deny…i hate fate. there are days when i curse god for this. i have shed so much tears, seen my own dear mummy, and abah, and nenek shed so much tears… why do more ppl have to suffer terrible fates. why my family. why not my fucking jc frens who have only enough respect for themselves and their ‘best friends’. why cant god be fair. if he wanna inject pain, why cant he distribute it evenly. why a larger proportion to me, my family. i hate life. i hate reality. i hate tears. hate. hate hate them.

i know within months her parents will decide they have had enough and choose the easy way out and sign for divorce. i knew it. i knew it when it was about to happen to me, i knew it when it was about to happen to my uncle. now i know it will happen to her. she has four kids. FOUR. why din she think of family planning years ago. why din she choose a better husband. why din she call it quits when her husband hurt her first kid. why the fuck did she let it come to this. why the fuck did i decide to ignore it last time.

i am so fucking angry with the way things are now. and so fucking sad. again. again the tears have to fall.

i know how i survived. i was selfish. i didnt want to care about my mom’s mistakes, i didnt want to care about my fucking dad. all i cared was me. i know now, after years of reflections, that i detached myself from the reality. i would be beaten so bad the night before, yet come to school smiling, laughing, playing catching and zeropoint the next day. because i didnt let myself feel. once, when my counsellor tried to make me feel, reflect, i sensed my real vulnerability, i never came back. she repeatedly called me back for counselling. but i refused. teachers den stopped asking me to go for her sessions cos my grades were good. I was good. so why cant my cousins be selfish. why not.

i thought i was strong. ppl thought i was strong. my mom, my family thought i was strong. yet the topic of divorce can crumble me into a pile of weeping crap within seconds. i did what selfish me wanna do. dun care about the rest world.

my cousins are less selfish. they decide to care. and now, they are struggling. all of them. and im not doing anything. i cant do anything.

i couldnt teach today. i just cant. tutoring seemed so insignificant. i wished i had come years ago. tutored her and fiqah years ago.be there regularly in their lives.  i know fiqah is more like me. she doesnt care as much as yana. she is like me. she even look like me. but i see her pain once in awhile. while she ate, slowly, thinking in silent. her eyes distant and her thoughts deep. she sighed when things gets noisy in the house.  did i look like that a long time ago?

what will happen to them. will their lives turn out like mine? i hope they will. im better now. much better. i think. i just want them to be better. just better……..

[confessed, but not reformed]

i thought i knew

ive been wanting to blog about this for quite awhile but …well you know, procastination. im a pro at pro-castinating. i am a PRO-procastinator…ok, bad joke.

anyway, on 12 Feb, my RE friends and i sent off a member of the spices clique. she went to beijing, china for exchange. first of all, what-a-lucky-bitch! of course, i say ‘bitch’ in a loving manner.

                              

at first, i mean, days before her departure, i sat down and put myself in a pensive mood and ruminate over the mater (chey…’ruminate’ seh!). i wondered whether i will feel just little glum, weeping or just plain indifferent.

 i know how i feel will be dependent on the strength or the depth of the friendship that i have build with her. cynical me thought, nah, we are not that close. after all, we are in a clique made up of 6 VERY different characters. and i dont really establish intimate relationships with individuals in a clique. i am close to THE clique. but close to any random individual within the clique is a whole different matter. i mean, i can hang out with them, talk with them, probably even share problems with them, but ‘they’ have to remain as a collective entity. once they have been broken down into separate individuals, i am not that sure whether i will still feel attached to the person. i mean, i know, with some of them, if its just me and one other person, there will be those uncomfortable silences that i simply must fill with empty pathetic conversations. that is a testament to the ‘uncloseness’ of the relationship.

so i thought, well, i may not be that close to her so sending her off may be easy-peasy. piece of cake..well, on monday night when i was making that collage for her, it hit me. i dont have to be ‘close’ to a person for that person to earn a certain degree of importance in my life.  i realised she has filled quite a space in my life, which will now be a void. i didnt weep nor tear, but i know i wasnt indifferent anymore. she has grown to be an important person in my life. which also means i have invested some amount of attachment to her.

part of the reason why is that when the SPICES clique was still in its infancy stage, i immediately recognised the similarity we have. she has always been the first one who understood where i was coming from in any discussions, we always agreed with each other. in a nutshell, we were on common wavelengths. and she is most similar to my character comparatively to the other members. (why do i say ‘members’ and not ‘friends’?). she likes to fool around, like me and do things spontaneously or simply because its fun. like suddenly and randomly break out into a song/melody or talk about the most frivolous issues simply because they were intriguing or it was interesting. 

i did acknowledge the fact that if this friendship is nurtured well enough, we can actually be pretty close. well, in the end, at the airport, i was one of the two people who teared. and guess what, i already miss her. i may not be exceptionally close close…to her. but i do care about her. well i hope the spices will be stronger and closer with time.

pictures of the SPICES…the people who made school bearable and fun..and beauty in my life.

 

  

         

                   

                     

                    

yeah thats it. i love them…oh man. im sooo sappyy

ruminate:to meditate or muse; ponder, to meditate on; to engage in contemplation; reflect deeply on a subject; “I mulled over the events of the afternoon”; “philosophers have speculated on the question of God for thousands of years”; “The scientist must stop to observe and start to excogitate”

[confessed, but not reformed]

Protected: so beautiful her

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ten plus twelve

In a wierd place. im in a weird place right now. like at crossroads. in the middle of sanity and total madness, in the middle of lasting childhood and full-blown adulthood. skirt or pants. square or rebel. stablility or 8.0  on the richter scale. lonely or solitude.

i hate new years. i hate the idea of new years. because it forces you to think (well, i’ll have a perfect life if i ever like to think), to reflect…and worst. it makes you feel. i dont like knowing that i will feel things. and it scary wondering what i’ll feel.

hmm, i’ll try to make this year better. i’ll try to make ME better. so that on the next birthday, i wont feel the same things like this year. so that at least there will be new things to worry about.

one thing though, that i feel is a major major issue with me…(major with the capital M)…is that, i wanna try… to try to do things out of pureness, rather than intertwined with hidden and unclean intentions. like say, writing words in an entry in this blog, not out to impress upon ppl, but simply because i feel and think those exact words.

apropos to nothing, i need a new skill. play guitar. learn chinese. learn arab. diving. pick-pocketing… god, anything!

lastly, ten is the age at which i attained ..or reached (i think reached is a better word) puberty.

“World, im twenty-two!!”

                                              

 [confessed, but not reformed]

not everything in life has to be an outright battle

“ok M, the thing is, we all have our comfort zone and we don’t like people imposing their values upon us precisely because we want to stay the way we are…

the thing about life is that.. we create our own reality… and sometimes we need to reaffirm our beliefs so that it lends weight to our existence.. like my version of reality is correct and so u should follow it.. when the beauty of it is that we can choose.. im not saying that murder is correct.. but that.. shit like that happens..

and when presented with an alternative viewpoint, my advice is to stop and breathe.

Listen to it again. what is the motivation behind that argument …is it love,is it concern, is it values? and then think about it. u dun have to refute out right.. and u dun have to defend ur own opinion just to show that u are right but u are allowed to give urself time to readjust ur reality if u find some parts of an opinion compatible with urs.

other than that, dun force urself .that’s how i deal with ppl.i never say that i am correct .and i never say that they are correct.we choose slowly what suits us.and what can make us grow. thats why i say growing up is fun .

we make mistakes “

i seriously love this girl…my wise friend..so cre-ver… she puts things in perspective for me…I swear..her existence is helping me be a better person…

[confessed, but not reformed]

the birth

finally got the hang of this blogging thing and now i wanna see how long this will actually last. before my discipline runs out. before i find something else to do with my time in the middle of the night…or before i got too lazy to finish writing my thoughts. usually the desire to update myself and follow the trends of the world is quite easy to dismiss and say ” i dont mind not being part of that”… but i came across smth that was written years ago by a friend in her blog. it made me feel sick. actually, imagine if you had your heart mangled after it was ripped through your chest, then thrown into a spinning blender. THAT. that’s how i felt. it drove me to get a plane on which i can have MY say, MY thoughts, shout out MY feelings. or just bitch when i feel like it.. 

i dont know if it was simply anger or just the sick need to retort, play defense and assure myself im right, she’s wrong, …or if it actually was a sadistic yearning to find another reason to hate myself further. at that very moment upon reading her past entry, i had that strong urge to respond. to read what i will write, what i feel, what i will confess, cos sometimes i dont really know if i didnt lay it out apparently.i guess, this blog was birthed not out of something positive, but i hope it will end that way.

[confessed, but not reformed]