So I Got Sold

She was going out to sea for 4 days. De facto, for a vacation aboard the Royal Caribbean.

In her absence, I had my share of fun. I didn't see why I should be deprived of it considering it was the dawn of a Chinese new year and the mood for a festive spirit beckoned. The "PA", I am sure, on the Q.T., also relished the freedom that seemed to have bestowed on her as she stole away into the night, had "friendly" drinks and criminal conversation. Acts of loose morals only she, the lowest of the low, could assent. So it had seemed manifestly unjust, hypocritical even, that she was passing off judgement on me.

I was perhaps a tad unlucky that one night when I had come home, not by choice, a little less than sober. It was of ill-fated time that my friends should choose to drop me home while the "PA" was still on her "date". What an untimely fate, that was.

Now, I also caught wind that a certain nullius filius had blabbed to the "PA" about how I was unable to keep a grip on myself—something I do not appreciate, especially coming from an idiota I had only just met that night. It was upon that hearsay did the "PA" decide to conclude on the fact that my blood alcohol content was probably bordering on lethal. Furthermore, I had apparently, in her eyes, staggered my way into the house. I am perplexed as to whether she had hallucinated that scene or was she maybe, on drugs that night.

It never occurred to me that I should have sat her down and told her to be hush-hush on that night's incident. I guess I was naive to think that she would be on my side, that she would be my ally, that she would cover up for me. But oh, how wrong I was.

My mum finally arrived home last Saturday. I was in my room when I heard the unlatching of the gates and the sound of the car pulling into the porch. The voice of her calling out to her 'babies' soon followed. My heart skipped a beat as I went down to greet her with open arms but my joy proved short-lived. "I'm very angry with you" were her first spoken words. I knew too well that the "PA" had sold me out. To avoid a chastisement, I retreated to my room, feeling despondent. But that didn't stop my mum from dragging me over the coals.

I was infuriated that the "PA" had told on me. But more than anything else, I was upset because I couldn't find any reason for her doing so. It may peradventure be thought that she might have done it out of spite because I had cut short her date that night. Although, that intent does seem a little too malicious and it would be far too cynical of me to even suggest that of her. Nevertheless, she had robbed me of my mother's affection and that was just utterly selfish of her. But of course, I don't expect her to fathom how I feel. Certainly not someone of her status and with such an inherently selfish nature, it would have been too optimistic of me to expect her to understand. Hence, I saved myself from lambasting her as I knew it would be a waste of my energy and saliva. In any case, I figured my Malay just isn't good enough to berate her, let alone anyone for that matter.

So here I am, feeling no more better than I was at the beginning of this post, with a burning question still in mind.

Was it really necessary of her?

I Dreamed a Dream

Ever had one of those dreams you wished you would never wake up from?

I just did.

***

But there are dreams that cannot be
And there are storms we cannot weather

I Don't Care

Or at least I don't want to. But who am I kidding if not only myself.

Your smell I don't want to forget and the after-taste of your spit still lingers.

Thinking of you still makes me smile and I'm not sure if that's healthy for me. Although, it might still be healthier than smoking but that's beside the point.

I might still miss you too, only in tinier pieces.

I guess you'll always just be one of those people I want but cannot have.

Et c'est la vie.

The Last Lecture

...is a New York Times best-selling book written by Randy Pausch, a professor of computer science, human-computer interaction and design at Carnegie Mellon University in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, United States. (Source: Wikipedia, the free encylopedia.)

One of the valuable life lessons I learnt from reading that book was how to make a good apology, of which there are 3 parts.

1. I'm sorry.
2. It was my fault.
3. How do I make it right.
   

Most people naturally neglect the third part as I've come to realise of late, and it is actually the more significant part of the three as it demonstrates sincerity. I do believe there is a big difference between a "seriously" and a "sincerely".

Alas, if there was one thing someone has taught me well in recent years is to not care. I never thought I would actually have something to thank you for in my life, maybe aside from contributing to my existence for which I can't even say I'm truly grateful for. But nonetheless, thank you. =)

p/s: Sometimes I wish I could feel again.

Emo Much

I was overcome by a flood of emotions yesterday. Not only did I have to deal with the departure of my friend, I have an assignment due this Friday and another next Monday to think about. And if that wasn't enough, the progress in my studies thus far left me feeling demoralised as I succumbed to the pressure of uni. Everyone around me, especially friends so dear, are flourishing in their studies while I'm floundering. In an instance, my world, as I saw it, was crumbling down to my feet. Dreams—shattered. Aspirations—unattained. Life—failed.

Anxiety started to build up from inside me. Feeling unsettled, I called Densy Darling to calm my nerves but ended up breaking down. I cried my heart out. But Densy, ever so understanding, gave me the right dose of pep talk. (You're the sweetest Densy! Love you much!) I felt more at ease and my heart, lighter. Still looking frazzled, I went to see my mum and told her I was stressed out. She gave the me the 'mother's talk'. One I've heard too many times and hated to be reminded of; but I needed it. At the end of the lecture, she asked to look at my assignments and said she'll help me get help. (Maybe I ought to cry more often.)

Emotionally drained, I went to bed early and woke up this morning feeling young and fresh. I carried out my usual motions of today till early evening. Just as I was about to leave for ballet, I was reminded by my ballet teacher that the ballet school was close this week, coinciding with the school holidays. Not wanting to break my streak of regular exercise (Yes, I have been exercising pretty regularly for the past 2 weeks.), I made up my mind to go run. As I ran, it hit me that I've actually already succeeded in life. I have the greatest mum in the world. (As embarrassing as this will sound for me, but my mum spent the whole day asking her colleagues how to get around doing my assignments. Before any of you start teasing me, her colleagues said the questions were tough, okay! I love love LOVE love love you mum!) Plus, I couldn't ask for more awesome friends (you guys should know who you are)! I am truly blessed and Life could not have seemed more beautiful.

But hey, I was never a small dreamer and I will not settle for mediocrity. So why should I ever stop striving when the world I desire can be won?