Back to Basics

It's crazy, absurd even, that I've not written a post in over a year and a half.

But quite like riding a bike I suppose, you don't really forget how to write. But that doesn't mean I'm not rusty either.

I feel bad for neglecting this space I once loved. Love. I need space. Which is what I'm trying to do with my room actually. I'm flipping it! And I'm excited! Might take a few months though cause I've recently become quite broke from all my travels.

I have been travelling for the past 6 months—1 city a month, which does absolutely nothing to help quell my wanderlust. If someone asked me what I want to do for the rest of my life, it'd be to travel. To seek out new experiences. To constantly see the world with new eyes. Every time. Yes, I need a job that allows me to experience new things every day.

Routine is a soul killer. Hence the constant need for mini-getaways. I hate processes. Worst is to feel entrapped in one without an escape route. Even worst is entrapped in one without an emergency exit.

I turned 25 last September, and as much as I hate to admit it, I'm having a quarter life crisis.

What is a quarter life crisis? Yes, agreeably that term has been quite loosely tossed around and used amongst people in my generation, but personally, I feel every variation of the term is valid. Every story. Every occurrence. Quarter life crisis is a very personal experience one goes through and every emotion one feels during that phrase is raw and real. But we should all take comfort in knowing that it is, at the end of a day, a phase. However, while it's okay to accept and feel the way we feel during this shitty phase of our life, we cannot sit around and do nothing and let the crisis consume us. Like any problem, we can't just sweep it under the rug and hope it goes away. We need to take action.

My advice is to talk to someone. Talk to a mentor. Someone older. Someone wiser. Someone who cares for your wellbeing. Someone who cares about your future.

Most importantly, talk to someone who sincerely cares about YOU.

Post-X'mas

I was watching 'People Like Us' on my laptop in my room when my door swung opened and a bright light came bursting through—the same feeling you get when you wake up slightly past morning and draw the curtains to let some light in. Turns out it was just my mum holding a striking neon green laptop sleeve in one hand coming to get my opinion on whether I too thought it was a great buy.

"Well I hoped you didn't pay more than RM5 for it."

She paid exactly RM5.

Thank God.

I'm sad X'mas is over and watching a movie that just made me bawl doesn't help either. Nonetheless, it was a good movie with a good soundtrack. But I tend to be bias towards any movie Michelle Pfeiffer stars in and towards any movie that makes me cry. Yes, I love movies that make me weep buckets. It's therapeutic. And so is writing in the wee hours of the morning, wondering what my life will be in the years to come.

Anyway, a song to end the night and put my tired mind to rest.

For As Long As We Shall Live

I hate how easily I forgive you

Cause I can't despise you

But I only wished you knew

The disappointment I was left to feel

Oh if only you knew...

In spite of everything

We remain the best of friends

Cause you're the only one who understands

Me at my best and me at my worst

We're the same and yet so different

But in each other we've found contentment

And on each other we became dependent

We chose each other

To have and to hold

To love and to cherish

21 May 2011

I find it odd that people are so intent on predicting the finals day of Earth.

So knowing your expiry date may push you to try and achieve some of the tasks on your bucket list, but if you're not already living now, it's hardly going to make a difference. I even think it's sad that one would need to induce fear to start living one's life.

PAUSE. TAKE A BREATHER. THINK. PLAY.

Stop dwelling, start living.
Stop reminiscing, start living.
Stop dreaming, start living.
Stop remembering, start living.

Because life begins when you start living.

I wrote this last year, on the day that everyone said the world will end. 1 year and 5 months later, the world is still here and so are we.

So live.

Live your LIFE.

Live it LIVE.

BLANK.

Oh it's insufferable to be me.

I feel and I wished I didn't.

But I think I'm learning to get there. To a place where emotions don't exist. Silent. Peaceful. Empty.

Emotions are messy. Messy like the first kill of an inexperienced serial murderer. But that's what my room currently looks like. Or has always been. I guess my emotions need an outlet.

I hate the pain and every feeling that comes with it. The tears, the nerve, the pinch, the melancholy.

I'm growing tired of fighting this battle—this battle of emotions. It's draining.

I'm drained.

Left to feel nothing but the thoughts inside my head; which are mostly unhealthy and which I shouldn't be feeding. And yet here I am, breeding my thoughts like the mating season of dolphins. I don't even know when that is.

But I think I will go find out. Seems like useful knowledge to have that can serve as an aphrodisiac.

Lunch Time is NOT a Time Goddamnit

Is this the Life I Once Had?

Because I've missed this.

This part of my life.

My life that was once balanced.

'Balance' is now a distant stranger.

A distant stranger whom I once knew.

I once knew peace.

Peace is the wee hours.

The wee hours were when I loved to write.

No, I love to write.

To write, is what I've missed.

I've missed this.

This life I once had.

Everyone Can Be Awesome

...because being awesome is a choice.

Don't ever forget that.

I Must Quit, I Must Quit, You

Still reeling from a jilted heart from 3 years ago, was it fair on her? Was it right of him? Why, she never asked. Closure, she never got. Remember, does he? 'Does he remember?', she often wonders.

Yet they hang around each other...still, like lost souls, existing without really living, talking without really meaning a single word they say. The hypocrisy shows, an observer can tell, passer-bys can see. Sitting across from each other, she sips on coffee while he blows air rings. Awkward silences fill the space between them, and yet...they still hang around each other. Out of boredom, perhaps. Out of loneliness, more so. But as we all know, misery loves company, and she found it in the both of them.

We Were From Another Summer

Friendship shouldn't be this vicious, or revengeful.

Cold, like an early winter.

Why does selfishness prevail over selflessness?

Emotion over common sense?

Friendship should know not exclusion nor division.

It shouldn't feel this empty...

like a loveless marriage.

Your action and behaviour are met by sorrow and revulsion. I'm dazed and astounded by your altruistic ways and your conspicuous partiality. It is clear that your words are rubbish and like everybody else, you are a hypocrite.

Why do the nice people only appear nice until they are not??

Disappointed to say the least, but where do we go from here?

Move on or away?

Accept it or leave it?

Do I dare put an expiry date on this friendship?

Or are we already running on borrowed time?

Dejected & dispirited.

An apology would seem like a long shot. But these days, I expect nothing from you as you've made it clear that you're no longer dependable.

A close friend was what I once thought of you as. Now, I'm not sure.

I'm not sure of anything at all.

P/s: Where did our summer go?

I Want To Have A Bubble Bath

My mum said that my writing seems "a bit affected". Thumbs down for being unsupportive of my creative work, mum.

Just kidding. I love my mum.

I just spent 30 minutes in the bathroom, sitting down on the non-slip tiles, lukewarm water streaming down the back of my neck, trickling down the side of my arms, down the front, over my breasts; held my head up and allowed the water to drizzle on my face. My skin was getting wrinkly but it felt good. Relaxing. Heavenly even.

I looked down and noticed a new mole sprouting. (Do moles sprout?)

And then, what seemed like an epiphanic moment, I realised, I could do with a bathtub.

Channeling Sue Sylvester

I’ve made up my mind. I don’t like you very much. It’s not so much you per se, but your misfortune to bear an uncanny resemblance to someone I'd already despise. Yes, go ahead and blame your doppelgänger. However, your personality, from the way you talk to the way you behave uncannily parallels hers, which begs the question, HOW could God make the same mistake twice??

I won't apologize for my irrational (or rational?) dislike of you, or biased conclusions I’ve drawn against you. In fact, I demand an apology from you invading my space with your obnoxious presence and pompous arrogance.

What an unlucky night it was for me to have been invited to a soiree where I knew not even the star of the evening nor her friends, but only the host and hostess, who are my friends, who are great and black and all that, which is something that you never will be even if you tried. But don't. Don't. Even. Try.

This post really shouldn't come as a surprise to you.

What??

Haven't you heard??

I'm a *censored* bitch.

One last note, and do read closely and very carefully, either get a facial reconstruction or just keep your face out of my place!

Peace.

NOT a Rant

You know what I don't get? People who write a rant but then fail cause their grammar is all over the place, hence the rant falling apart and whatever point they were trying to make becomes invalid. If you're one of them, yes, YOU FAIL.

*** ***

Funny how I would always dream about what my college days will be like when I was in high school, and what my working days will be like when I was in college, and what my future will be like...well, all the time. Yes, a girl daydreams a lot but the reality never quite turns out the same. Or maybe not yet. Career wise at least. Ah ha, this little girl ain't so little anymore. Who'd have thought this day would come, earning my own money and living on my own. Okay. Not quite. I still live with my mum but that really ain't so bad, especially when you're getting paid peanuts. Sometimes, I even wished I literally am. No I kid. Alas, the beginning of everything is always painstaking. This raring urge to climb the corporate ladder as fast as I can is becoming harder to quell. Yes, I've become more kiasu than ever and it's not even about working late. It's about working extra and producing more than that's expected of me. The whole work life balance is still pretty manageable for now but everyone has different priorities in life, and mine right now, is my career. So apologies if I always choose my work first before anything else, because I will.

Life's too short to do too little and not long enough to do too much. So we just do.

Peace.

Always & Forever ♡

A picture's worth a thousand words;
but a greeting card, a thousand more.

ツ

Am I Ready?

I don't know.

Are you?

Big leaps, big risks. With no safety net, a misstep would be more than just a blunder. It'd be a huge fall and a huge fall would leave more than just a bruise.

But you can't get up if you've not fallen. You couldn't have walked without first crawling. You wouldn't be here if you knew where you should be.

You can't always be prepared.

You can't always be ready.

There is no crystal ball for you to peek into the future.

You just got to pick up the cards you've been dealt with and make the best hand out of them.

Sometimes, it's not about making the right decision or the wrong decision.

It's simply just making one.

Because it's in the making of the decision that you learn you were ready.

...While Sipping on Wine

What would you write about at this hour?

Blank slate. Blank mind.

Background music. Background noise.

I forget I can write. Better than most. Most that I know. Clearly not mixing with the "write" crowd.

Pressure. Low. High. None. Do you feel it? Not what I seek. Not what I need. Fear, on the other hand, can drive one to do the unimaginable. The unthinkable. The never thought possible, but achievable.

I'm a realist. An imaginist. A dreamer only when I'm asleep.

Because realists know better and dreamers only hope for better.

The real world awaits, with a plateful of politics and sour grapes.

The meeting of real people. The unfazed and the two-faced. The sincere and the queer. The rich and the bitch.

My nouveau chapitre begins now. And I will wait no more.

To be published. To be heard. Not be rubbished or be stirred.

This is my book. My story. My life.

So read between the lines...

Rmbr Rmbr

10.10.10
A day that happens once a millennium should not be lived like every other day.

It’s a day to meet new friends
It’s a day to make amends
It’s a day to be grateful
A day to appreciate to the full
It’s a day to reflect
It’s a day to recollect
A day to romanticize
A day to fantasize
So make this day momentous
Make it bodacious
Make it anything unlike today.

That, I must remember.

Red Balloon FTW!

'My something and something something something unhappy birthday.'
That's about how much Spanish I know.
But who cares what it says,
it's a RED BALLOON!

And btw,
HAPPY 10.10.10!

I Don't Run

No.

I was wrong.

I binge.

I hate my life.

Greener. Blacker. Whatever.

Every time I get this feeling of loneliness, I want to bolt. Run. Escape. To somewhere else, to some place far, to somewhere I feel I belong. A place where solitude doesn't exist and desolation is just a state of mind. A place where the lights shine brighter than the street lights of New York City. A place where dreams don't just seem possible but are.

We often say we can't help the way we feel but maybe we are fools to believe that. The moment we lose control of our feelings, they get the better of us and we become overwhelmed. Quite like standing on the beach when the waves come crashing in. Or in a room of a deserted, dilapidated building and the ceiling comes crashing down. Or in the middle of NYSE's traders floor and watching all the stocks go crashing.

Life's like that. More often than not, we get jumped when we turn a corner, we are caught off guard, unprepared to face the unexpected that's thrown at us. In a moment of panic, we do whatever our unconsciousness triggers us to do. A reflex. An impulse. A defence mechanism. Some cry. Some binge. Some commit suicide. I cut and run.

But maybe, it's about time to stop running from the unnerving and the awkward, stop thinking this unfamiliar feeling is familiar, stop pretending this lonesomeness is okay. Because only I know that it isn't. And only I know I can do something about it. And that is...

TO GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE and over to the other side.

Because it IS greener. Blacker. Whatever.