The Season's Ingrate - ME!

Eulogy of Ingratitude ^^

Ribbons of Colors
Bringing Joy & Happiness
But why oh why,
Is the forest green missing
From my wonderful gift of ribbons?

Orange and Red
A cutsy cat
With a turban
To grace the bathroom door
But why oh why,
Does it come not in pairs?

Famous Amos Cookies
Delicious fragrance
Wonderful texture
But why oh why
Did it have to be
In a heart shaped vessel?

Red and Black
Dress bag
Wonderful for a great night out
But why oh why
Did the rich colors not come
In a better design?

A Precious Moment Cup
With a lid for holding drinks
Nice material and great gift box
But why oh why
Did it have to be so sweet
And unsuitable for me?

Brazillian coffee bean
Coated in Chocolate
Exotic and rare
But why oh why
Did such a gift come
To a non-caffeine drinker?

A cheerful yellow
Backpack on a teddy bear
So adorable it look
But why oh why
Did it come with a
Gaudy necklace?

Oh the wonders of Christmas
For wondering why
Gifts are selected so unsuitably

Oh the wonders of Christmas
For showing ingratitude
To all the thoughtful gestures

Oh the wonders of Christmas
For being rude and wicked
To all who were so nice

Oh the wonders of Christmas
For a eulogy
To insult all the gift buyers

For while the gifts may lack perfection
But what in the world is really perfect anyway?
So bear with the ingratitude
For in the insults
My gratitude is shown

Thank you.

Kel. 30 December 2004.

:::

Dear Evilness in Black (Yours truly would like to write to Mr HoHoHo but red and white is really so not my color)

Gratitude is really not yours truly’s cup of tea or coffee but yours truly is compelled to admit that she did have a marvelously good time for Christmas and had tons of spoils of war – did I say spoils? I’m sure I must mean gifts. *nod earnestly*.

Yours truly would like to give a list of spoils, I mean gifts, for next year too. It pays to be early in demands. Yours truly is aware that the clan of Evilness is big and always growing. Besides, demands must be aired and heard and than demanded again. So rest assured, dear Evilness, you will hear from me again.

Now, back to Christmas, so thank you, oh evil one, for the sappy movies and frivolous waste of time with dear *Starry. It might not be intellectually stimulating but oh boy, at least it was fun. Sure beats riding a sledge pulled by reindeers in a stuffy and hot red coat with white trimmings to give out presents every year. Oh boy, poor fellow. Imagine such torture every year, year in and year out, when he could be enjoying a nice cup of hot chocolate and watch flicks and share jokes. *shake head* I bet he really got the short end of the lot when someone above gave out job allocation. Poor fellow.

Now having compared the poor Mr HoHoHo’s Christmas to yours truly, spent in the warmth of home and hearth, surrounded by family and dear *starry, remembered in gifts from mere acquaintances, yours truly is truly astonished at Dear Evilness’ ingenuity. You provided your faithful follower aka yours truly with no over-hyped hallmark sentimental crap that is really just meant for commercial profit making, but you delivered a subtle and enjoyable Christmas and long weekend without any pre-planning or much effort on yours truly’s part.

For that, thank you.

Having written all this crap, dear Evilness, you know what yours truly really wants, don’t you? Yours truly would like perfect gifts next Christmas, and as enjoyable, if not more fun, sleepovers. Yours truly did enjoy Christmas. It might have been simple and uneventful but it was relaxing and such simple fun to have *Starry over. So please remember to put yours truly on the top of next Christmas list for a great time and lotsa fun.Yes, yours truly is obeying the first rule of Evilness, being demanding and greedy. So sue me but don’t forget, you owe me years of Christmas happiness to measure and match up this year’s joy.

Insulting as always,
Yours truly.

Love at First Sight

This is it!

This is it!

You’re the one

I took one look
And I knew

I knew it undeniably
In my heart
That you’re the one

Love at first sight

Wistful
Whimsical
Sigh

:::

This is it!

You took me by surprise

You shimmered
And shined

You dazzled
And winked

This is it

I’m in love

Would it only be
That the perfect guy
Is as easy to find
As you –

The perfect top
My perfect gift

Alas
That it should be otherwise

Sigh.

Kel. 6 Dec 2004

Yours truly can't help but wonder, is it me again or does love at first sight for people really exist? Yours truly have at first sight, fell for a perfect item of clothing for both myself or more generally the case, for my friends. But so far, yours truly has not met a person that quicken yours truly's oh-so-cold heart. I'm inclined to believe that love at first sight between human doesn't exist.

Don't get me wrong, I would like to believe (in some rare moments of sentimental angst & mellowness) that love at first sight does exist. But from what I observe around me, yours truly is more inclined to suggest that lust at first sight exists but not love at first sight simply because people I know who say they fall in love at first sight, upon probing, it turns out (at least to yours truly) that it's merely attraction, physical one at that. Only the rare lucky few does lust at first sight turn into something lasting. Whether one can call the "something lasting" as love, yours truly feels uniquely unqualified to judge. *shrug*

But if for argument sake, love at first sight exists, or if any of you dear frens, feel that it does exist, then tell me, for yours truly is interested to know, what really constitute love? It is the companionship? Is it the need to be together? Does he/she make you complete? If not, can you still call it love? Pardon my ignorance, but yours truly haven't seen evidence of real lasting emotion that the dear poets call love.

Perhaps love in essence and in itself is undefinitable? You either feel it or not? Such a devious sneaky way out and so easy. Yes, it's so easy to just dismiss the issue, just claim that love is not tangible and cannot be put into words, but really, yours truly can't help but point out that this is the ostrich/coward's way of dealing with the unknown. There are of course, no real answers to be had, but does that therefore justify avoiding the topic, the reflection altogether?

I think not.

Human beings are given the capacity to think, to reflect and part of being able to do so, allows the capacity to truly love. Arrogant and egoistical of yours truly, I know. But I would like to believe so.

Won't you?

Reciprocation

Dear all,

How can I not reply to such a great compliment on my *wicked sense of humor by my junior *starry? After a blog dedicated to *advertise my blog or rather (and more importantly, the poets/poems), yours truly feel compelled to response in kind.

*Starry has a nice blog, it’s so nice that even yours truly cold hearted bitch wanna be that I am, bothers to read it everyday (ok ok, at least once every two days). This is a blog that is the rare few that your truly can tolerate and even say with good conscience that I like. This is not always the case with most blog. *nod head solemnly*

Here’s the link. http://junoesque.blogspot.com/

***

To *Starry, you’re always welcome.

***

To *all (not that I think anyone else except some really select minority (read: strange & odd) reads my blog), poems listed here are some of my likes, there are more if yours truly ever gets into the mood to share.

If you hate the poems listed here, we’re obviously not of the same karmic plane, feel free to never visit again. *snorts*

Yours truly truly doesn’t mind.

So there.

Poems, I like

:::

WENDY COPE

Valentine
My heart has made its mind up
And I'm afraid it's you.
Whatever you've got lined up,
My heart has made its mind up
And if you can't be signed up
This year, next year will do.
My heart has made its mind up
And I'm afraid it's you.
Giving Up Smoking
There's not a Shakespeare sonnet
Or a Beethoven quartet
That's easier to like than you
Or harder to forget.
You think that sounds extravagant?
I haven't finished yet-
I like you more than I would like
To have a cigarette.
Bloody Men
Bloody men are like bloody buses-
You wait for about a year
And as soon as one approaches your stop
Two or three others appear.
You look at them flashing their indicators,
Offering you a ride.
You're trying to read the destinations,
You haven't much time to decide.
If you make a mistake, there is no turning back.
Jump off, and you'll stand there and gaze
While the cars and the taxis and lorries go by
And the minutes, the hours, the days.
Kindness to Animals
If I were a vegetarian.
And didn't eat lambs for dinner,
I think I'd be a better person
And also thinner.
But the lamb is not endangered
And at least I can truthfully say
I have never, ever eaten a barn owl,
So perhaps I am OK.

***

SARAH TEASDALE

I am Not Yours
I am not yours, not lost in you,
Not lost, although I long to be
Lost as a candle lit at noon,
Lost as a snowflake in the sea.
You love me, and I find you still
A spirit beautiful and bright,
Yet I am I, who long to be
Lost as a light is lost in light.
Oh plunge me deep in love -- put out
My senses, leave me deaf and blind,
Swept by the tempest of your love,
A taper in a rushing wind.

***

WALLFLOWER aka *S

Virgin Terrain

these fingers are bold

these hands gentle

they paint landscape

explore topography

fingers that lovingly outline each contour

hands that tenderly sculpt every surface

fingers that patiently trace each hill

hands that delicately refine every peak

fingers that painstakingly unearth each valley

hands that thoroughly reveal every secret

they create and compose

they paint and draw

very gently, very boldly

going where no man has gone before

Fairytale

Blame it on the fairytales –

I am waiting to be rescued,

I want to be saved!

In case my rescuer –

Tall, dark, dangerous

And gorgeous –

Should miss me;

In case whoever it is

Should not be able to

Recognize me,

Damsel in Distress,

I’ve rented a siren-red cape

(good thing red’s my color)

And will be wearing one

Glass slipper

(it’s really made of clear PVC –

you’ve no idea how difficult it is

to find glass slippers in the stores

these days).

It might be awhile before my hair

Grows to a Guinness Book of World Record length, but that’s

Not a problem;

I’ve got all the time in the world

To let it grow out –

After I prick myself with this

Spindle

(found it at an antique shop –

had to spend some time bargaining the price down

but it’s worth it),

And take a bite out of this

Poisoned apple

(it’s not really poisoned –

I’m not that dumb –

I’ve merely coated it with

A bottle of crushed

Sleeping pills).

All right, so here I go …

Yucks!(Note to Self:

Pills are bitter –

Mix a little sugar

In it next time.)

What?

What’s that you’re saying about

Rip Va …

***

Actually, there are still tons of poems that I like but I shan't overload too much in one shot (actually, I'm getting tired & lazy to type/copy & paste more). So until next time...

Btw, I promise to write an intro of *Wallflower to this blog soon *cross fingers*...but until then, enjoy her poems. PS: All copyrights to the poems belong to the poet.

PLEASE DO NOT EVEN ATTEMPT TO COPY OR PASS THEM OFF AS YOURS!

who would believe you anyway? *archly*

Doormat

I.
What’s always beneath
Possibly clean and fluffy
Possibly dirty and scruffy?

What’s crushed beneath the heels
Always under
Never above?

What’s airing in the warm breeze
Or hidden in the drawers
Smelling naturally warm or musky?

What’s always unappreciated
Possibly forgotten
But always endearing?

BINGO.

A doormat

A doormat to crush and step on
A doormat for the warmth of heels

A doormat overlooked
But always remembered by the heels.


II.
Fluffy and warm
Dirty and scruffy

Low and crushable
Endearing and strong

Perhaps a doormat in making
But a survivor in action.

Kel. 21 November 2004.


Dear *doormat

I hope you are pleased. It is not everyday and everyone who can demand a blog from cold hearted me. Please prostrate in eternal gratitude.

From yours truly
Me.

***

Ah. The wonders of a nice fluffy thick doormat. Ok, basically, *doormat has childishly demanded to be named and written in yours truly blog. Why? I have no idea. *shrug*

But as yours truly is in a denial mood aka would do anything except study for my exams on Tues, yours truly decided to indulge *doormat with a brief mention.

Yes, this is really brief and completely without substance (not that much of yours truly blog has much either) and of cos, it completely does not tell one anything about *doormat.

Yes, yours truly could mention that *doormat is currently teaching in Japan, currently resisting temptations in the form of 15 years old good looking high school kids, currently in swings of cheerfulness and moodiness with a dash of occasional whining and self-pitying, etc, but do you really want to know all that?

Yes? Really? People are so weird. *arched brows*

Well, too bad, yours truly has a limit to indulging others, and she has just reached the end of the quota for today. Please try again in the next hundred odd years or so.

Adieu.

***

"Ode from a Doormat

You may think I'm so low, that I don't matter, that I am crushable and beneath you, but consider how I work. Consider how I have survived. I take your dirt, but I am not your dirt. Yes, you wipe your heels on me, and because you do, I know nearly everything about you, where you've been, what you're likely to do next.

You don't value me, it's true. But does that mean I have no value? Perhaps I get along best allowing you to believe what you want to believe, think you are above me, superior, in charge. Are you though? When you are dust, your dust will find a place on me as well. On me, not in me.

Maybe this is not the life for you. But it is a life, believe it or not. It may not be your life. It may terrify you. I sense your fear, through your soles. I can tellyou are wearing out… just look at those scuff marks. But what would it accomplish to say anything about that?

We doormats know how and why we keep our counsel. Doormat confessionals are few and far between, and when they come, they often reveal far less about the doormat than about those who've walked on or over us. We doormats are a private sort of folk. Why would we be otherwise? "

(http://home.earthlink.net/~derdriu/doormat.htm)

Breakfast in Bed & Comfy Conversations

I Like

Warm fuzzy feeling
Lazy afternoons
Lazing around
I like

Slowing down
Slumbering
Wine and conversation
I like

Reading together
Comfy companions
Easy talking
I like

Breakfasts in bed
Free lunches
Rose teas
I like

I like so many
So much
So simple

But really
I like

You.

Kel. 10 November 2004

Yours truly had a wonderful night & morning & afternoon. Please, no snide remarks about the night and who I spent it with. Get your mind of the gutter, please. Yours truly had a slumber party with my junior (read: female and we’re both straight) and it was a really simple one. No fancy dinner or exciting plans. It was just us in junior’s requested uniform of pajamas bottom & t-shirt (dun ask me why not the whole pajamas, I didn’t set the rules…it’s her place….*shrug*), conversation, a bottle of white wine, marshmallows (what’s a slumber party without it?)…it was nice fun. Slow, comfy and lazing fun. I think that the mark of a friendship? It’s comfortable and conversation follows without really talking about anything in particular? Of cos, we did attempt to study somewhat, but I must admit, we failed spectacularly. But hey, that shows more than anything, me and junior are comfortable together? *grin* I know I know, I’m justifying myself, so what? Sue me. *archly* Anyway, the point of this is, yours truly had a great time, my junior had a nice room (neat and tidy *whistles*). She had nice cup and saucer; she served me breakfast in bed with rose tea. What more can a gal asks for? *grin*

That was the great night & morning. Lunch I spent with my professor, *Nice. Yes, got a free lunch treat. How nice. *grin* But it was nice easy conversation. Poor *Nice is overworked and busy at the moment. But we had a nice session of gossiping about people we know. Reminiscing about past modules and criticizing the PS department. *grin* Such delicious fun. *stick tongue out* Yes, yes, yours truly is overly harsh on the department, but why should I be nice when they aren’t very nice anyway? Besides, they are stuffy and conservatively….not a good combination…

Isn’t it sad that varsity is so dependent on the whims of our professors? Imagine the internal rivalry, the political dynamics and how one’s grades are not necessarily the reflection of one’s ability but one’s relationship with the professors? I’m not saying all professors are biased but that rare are the ones that are truly impartial. But perhaps, yours truly is being too harsh? Perhaps it is human to judge and human to take sides? Perhaps it is essentially very human to judge and always to find others wanting without reflecting and judging oneself?

I hope not.

But perhaps, it is so?

Yet if this is the case, perhaps yours truly should preach forgiveness and compassion? But I think not. I would rather not. In fact, I vehemently refuse to. Can you imagine bitchy sheer preaching forgiveness? *grimace* Please, don’t even attempt to think about it. Sheer is not and will never be a candidate for saintly forgiveness. Yours truly would go for evil bitch any day. Thank you very much.

Essentially, the good gives justice, the bad invents mercy. Yours truly is neither good nor bad. I just say what I think, do what I should. If I’m harsh along the way, at least I don’t demand that others be thankful for my harshness. At least I don’t ask others to be less harsh to me.
In other words, yours truly upholds the same measure to judge myself and others. No double standards.

In that sense, perhaps it is human to judge and find wanting. That is not the problem. The problem is, dear frens, to judge only others and never oneself.

I don’t. At least, I try not to.

Do you?

Conversation with Cousin

Kids are selfish because they are kids. But does that give them the right to hurt so unintentionally? More to the point, does that give me the right to show my claws? *archly*

Conversation with Cousins, Age 8 & 9
Two cousins giggle
Me: What?
Cousin A: Cousin B says you’re fat.
Cousin B: Yes, why are you so fat?

Tell me, dear friends, what should I reply to that? I mean, yes, yes, yours truly is fat *sulk* but that doesn’t mean I want people to keep telling me that to my face? And trust me, they have said so much too often for my ego. *roll eyes* Believe me, usually yours truly doesn’t have a problem insulting people who insult me or even giving a cheeky reply in response, but when it’s my 8 year old cousins and telling me so bluntly to my face, what can I do? I can’t put her down yet, I can’t deny that I was hurt by it. Yours truly doesn’t have a problem with self image, yes, I should be much slimmer than I am, yes, I am overweight, but yours truly doesn’t have a hang up over it. Just because I don’t fit today’s standards of reed thin women, doesn’t mean there is something wrong with me, right? Think about it, in traditional ancient China, I’ll be considered beautiful aka think Yang Gui Fei. Besides, I still don’t have much problems buying clothes. What is it about a kid that can make me self-conscious about myself? More to the point, does that mean that yours truly need a greater ego, or worse, thicker skin?

Perhaps, the sensible way would be for me to avoid my cousins? Perhaps I should never volunteer to bring the 2 brats out anymore?

Btw, did I mention that I was, or still is, their favorite cousin, to the point that they wished I was their elder sister?

Amazing, huh? I bring them out for a fantastic day, spending way too much of my pittance of a salary on them, and I feel sucky after spending time with them….Somewhere, someone must hate me. *arched brows*


Another Conversation with Cousin B, Age 9
Cousin: do you have a B?
Me: A B?
Cousin: (whispers) boyfriend.
Me: Oh. No.
Cousin: But why? You’re so old. Everyone so old should have Bs.
Me: Huh? That’s not true
Cousin: Yes, it is. (with all the certainty of a kid) You should have a B as you’re so old. And anybody who reaches 23 or 25, must have Bs.
Me: Oh…so you mean if I don’t have a B, I’m not considered 23?
Cousin: Yes. You are already so old, you should get a B.

Tell me, where does it says anywhere that at 23 yours truly must have a B? And since when are our kid cousins allowed to inquire over our personal love life? Most of all, when did yours truly reach an oh-so-advanced age without knowing? I didn’t know that at 23, I’m already qualified to be labeled as old. *grimace* On a sudden irrational impulse, (it’s irrational since yours truly knows well enough that one does not argue with a 9 year old kid who doesn’t know much) but still, I had the sudden urge to go out and get myself a B, just so that I can show my cousin that I’m normal (and yours truly is never one to uphold the virtues of normalcy, read: boring) , or better still, just get a guy friend to pretend to be my B so I can shut her up and also not have to live with the consequences of getting a B on an impulse. But then again, what does that really prove?

Besides, it is wrong that I’m waiting for my THE ONE? Should I have just settled for guys along the way who I didn’t feel that special spark?

Call me fool if you will, but

I think not.

I believe that if we are meant to be, heavens above would give me you.

That Someone

I.
I want to find the guy of my dreams
I want to find someone to love
I want my grand passion
I want it so much that it hurt

My heart believes that he is out there
My heart believes that we are meant to be
My heart believes in this one single person
My heart believes so much that it is unreal

I want it so
I believe it so
So much
That it is frightening

II.
Where is that someone
Where is my promise of a grand passion
Where is the guy for me

Perhaps
Only in my dreams

Perhaps
Only in my make believe

Perhaps
Only in my heart

Perhaps
Only perhaps.

III.
Are you looking for someone of your dreams
Are you also searching for that instant spark
That silken link
That silver tie

Are you perhaps out there waiting
Are you perhaps out there looking
Are you perhaps believing in me

Are you out there
Waiting
For me.

IV.
I believe
My heart believes
There can only be one
One unique individual
Who quickens my heartbeat

Do you believe so
Do you believe in me
The way I do
The way I really do
Believe in

You.

Kel. 26 October 2004.

My Mr Green

Unwelcome Visitor

I got a visit from Mr Green Eye Monster
Who was amazingly rude
He came without knocking
And stabbed me without thinking.

Ouch.

I got a visit from Mr Green Eye Monster
A visitor I could have gone without
He came creeping up wither
And stayed on within

Sulk.

I got a visit from Mr Green Eye Monster
Someone you'll really rather not see
He came in without a by your leave
And simply refused to leave me

Damn.

I got a visit from Mr Green Eye Monster
Who really insisted on staying
But I stomped my boots refusing
And jumped on him till he give in

Yes.

And so ended my visit from Mr Green
Who really left without much grin
But delicately I must apologize
Cos no more Mr Greens will be allowed to visit.

Kel. 27 October 2004.


Yours truly always thought that jealousy was bad and envy is just slightly better. And yours truly really dislike the jealousy between friends. Did I say friends? I meant female close friends. Ironically, female friends tend to have more internal envy and yours truly could have sworn that I won’t be so. That my friends are unique and we do not become jealous of each other. But yours truly was bitten by the green eye monster today. *gasp* One of my closest friend, *snappish finally found a job & at an outrageously high salary. Yours truly here is ashamed to say, I was bitten by Mr Green (while being deliriously happy for *snappish) for er…all of 15 minutes. Yes, yes, I am repenting right now. Even though it was only 15 minutes and even though I can honestly say I am ecstatically happy for her. Genuinely delighted, but a small part of my brain was envious. *sigh* Yours truly is so ashamed of herself. *heads drooping*

*apologies to *snappish for the 15 minutes of envy* (although some would say it is ego boosting that you have something that others envy. Yes? So maybe *snappish should thank me instead? *grin*)

Anyway, in my defense, I did lift myself from the envy immediately and yes, it only took me all of 15 minutes to go from envy to being completely happy for *snappish. What can I say? I’m human and female after all. *archly* And before you point out, I have already apologized for the 15 minutes. And I am duly reprimanded for not feeling a disinterested joy from the start like some of my other friends like *eccentric would. *sigh* As the sage would say, Yours truly needs to cultivate herself more. *grimace*

But anyway, despite being ashamed at myself, I must point out that nowhere in the 15 minutes of my envy or jealousy, was I ever begrudging of my friend’s good fortunate or even remotely catty/bitchy about it. It was more like a “damn, I wish I applied for said job too” but never have I felt that *snappish doesn’t deserve it or that I deserve it more. Am I sounding defensive here? I assure you, I don’t mean to be. And I am glad, really glad to know, that I am broad-minded/large-hearted enough to feel joy for my friends without a serious case of inferiority or bitchiness. Thank you very much. *deadpan*

I mean one can always imagine that one is broad-minded – but unless you belong to an unreflective group of people, which I assure you, a large majority of people are – but one never know like yours truly until today, until having been tested, that one really is. Don’t snort. I'm serious. Dun look down at this little test of friendship & character.

I mean, be honest, in yours truly's place, could you have been happy for your friend without even a tinge of envy?

Most of all, would you even have own up to the visit of the green eye monster?

I did.

But would you?

You can lie to the world, but please, do not lie to yourself.

Would you have been so honest?

I rest my case.

A Declaration

So Much More

You think you do
But you don't
You don't know me

I can be so much more
I am so much more

More than you think
More than you know
More than you appreciate

You think you know
But you don't
You really don't

I can be more than you know
I am more than you care

I am so much more
So much more you don't see
So much more than

Merely your trophy
Seen but not heard

I am so much more
So much more than you know
So much more than

You.

Kel. 7 Oct 2004

Ok. I just got mentioned in a sentimental sweet way in *starry’s blog & seriously, it just would not do. It gives the impression that yours truly here is sweet, mellow & most horribly, nice. Yikes. So dear *starry, please stand reprimanded. It simply won’t do. *stomp feet*. It is alright, for instance, to insult yours truly, (who can give as good as anyone else) or to imply or explicitly say bad things about yours truly here, after all, bad is good. Bad is hip. Mean and insulting, will do just fine. So if you really have to give a compliment, *dear starry, pls, make it an insult. Thank you very much.

As *eccentric once said not so long ago, if Satan was hip & cool, she truly believes she will join Satan. Suckers for image that we are. *arched brows* So hip is good. Mean is great. Nice is not. *wink*

So dear frens, let is be hereby announced, sheercrazyme is not a candidate for sobbing, niceness and all the outburst of sentimentally mushy stuff. At best or at worse, depending on how one looks at it, she is only guilty of the occasional sentimental whimsy.

Anyway, dear *starry, only the rare few can whine & be tolerated by yours truly, so don’t push your luck. *arched brows*

But shopping, eating & drinking should be, must be & will be tolerated at all times. *nod sagaciously*

Won’t you agree?

A Ride on the Train

We Two are One

We two are one
A simple look
Your shoulder moves
For me to lean

We two are one
A simple comment
Our eyes smile
Over the heads of others

We two are one
Beyond words
We communicate
Instinctively

We two are one
We belong
My head at your shoulders
Your glance on me

Admit it
Won't you,
That we are.

Kel. 11 October 2004.

I was riding on the train (having sadly reached the stage of life where I have to go to work) and I observed the way people behaves (yes, I was looking..hopefully unnoticed by anyone...)

First I saw this couple, the male was sleeping while his gf/wife (both of them were wearing rings!) was reading. Then she had enough of reading, she shift a bit, the guy woke up and they exchange one glance and immediately, he lean his shoulders over and the girl just put her head down and they both slept. The silent look that spoke volumes about their closeness and their relationship struck me and a poem popped into my head. I like the sentiments in such a simple look/action. I'm envious.

Aren't you?

*******************************

A Faint Stirring

A faint stirring
A whisper of memories
As I watched a mother plaiting
Her daughter’s hair
And remembered how you
Once did so for me

A faint impression
A vague collection of memories
As I watched a mother teaching
Her daughter the alphabets
And remembered how you
Once taught me too

Perhaps it’s a sign of age
A mark of maturity
More and more
I remember
Memories of childhood
Of you by my side
In my growing years

Did I remember to thank you
For being by my side
Did I remember to treasure
All the times we spent
Did I remember to be grateful
For the independence you instill

Did I remember to be appreciative
For your impartiality and liberalness
Did I remember to say thank you
For never forcing me to do anything

Did I remember
Most of all,
To thank you
For loving me

Perhaps I don’t say it often
If I ever said so at all
But I love you
I really do

Thank you
It is a privilege
My privilege
To be your daughter.

Kel. 12 Oct 2004

Today, on the train again, (yes yes, yours truly has to go to work. Dun rub it in pls. *grin*) I saw this mother and daughter (abt 3 yrs old). Their mannerism and gestures are so simple yet so poignant, at least to me. Yours truly suddenly felt as if I went back in time, or at least memories of my mum flashed across my brain. And I wondered how long it has since I stop and remembered my childhood, remembered my mother - the simple "take-for-granted" things she did for me. (ps: Yours truly was really dumb, it took 3 days for my mom to teach my bro his alphabets and 3 months to teach me mine. *apologetic look to mom* What to do? Yours truly is just stupid. I freely admit it. *stick tongue out*)

Perhaps yours truly is getting senile in old age or overly sentimental (gasp!) but how often has you stop to think and be grateful to your parents?

I have friends that are so appreciative of their bfs yet remain so unappreciative of their parents. This puzzles me. As great a bf can be, how can he so far surpass our parents, to whom we owe everything? Yes, I know there are bad parents, tragic childhood, etc, but in general probability, parents love their children. I think the odds of having unfilial unloving children is so much greater than unloving parents. Don't you think so? So what I really want to say is, stop for a moment, and reflect. Think of your parents. Think of your behaviour. Then go repent to the wall and hopefully, if you're human enough, be nicer to your parents.

At least, try to.

Yours truly can't say righteously that I am always filial and appreciative of my parents, but at least, I always try. And sometimes, the effort and the intention is all that really counts.

I know your parents can feel it. I know mine does. And in the end, that's what matters.

To be love and to love in return.

In ways that are beyond words.

Beyond romantic love.

Rare people, Provocation & The One

Simple Things

Many wondrous things
Begin simply

A seed grows into a tree
A bud grows into a flower
A caterpillar grows into a butterfly

A sperm grows into a heartbeat
A womb grows into child
A child grows into an adult

A look grows into a linger
A smile grows into happiness
A name grows into love

It all begins simply.
Little things
Little simple things

You smiled at me.
I looked at you.
And so simply
Love began

It really just begins
With a smile
With a heartbeat
With you.

Kel. 10 April 2004.

Feel as if I should write something...hmm...I had quite a hectic few days...Too many things to write about but so satisfied and happy, feel like writing nothing. Shrug.

Let's see...first of all, I met an interesting girl *D and she...well, she's hip. *grin* Quite interesting life experiences and I liked her a lot. Quite worldly. Such a pity she's not a guy? *deadpan* Kidding. But I really found her quite interesting. Together with her, I met another gal *T who's a lawyer. They made my Friday so much more than merely passable, they made it fun. For that, thank you. Yours truly is always glad to meet interesting people. Such people are so rare in the usual humdrum of life. Or is it merely me? I think...

Not.

As for today, I went for a pinic with *eccentric, *private, *snappish, *witchy & *peace. I had such fun despite the terrible sunburn. Really, it's so fun to go out with close friends and talk about really nothing at all. *grin* Ok. I know some might say it's a waste of time, but hey, we did cover a magnitude of subjects from careers, gay men/hangouts, boyfriends, ideal other half (we're female, of cos men are part of the conversations. *stick tongue out*), our school days, clothes/dress sense, our lives lately, value of friendship, etc, etc. Most importantly such outings remind us of the importance of having good friendship. Which also remind me of one of the topic covered.

The nature of friendship, especially among women.

While it is human nature to compare and if a pal is doing so much better while one is in the dumps, it's acceptable to feel envy but it is not an excuse to therefore be bitchy at your frens or to be angry that they are doing well. I mean, it might be human nature to feel some elements of envy but for goodness' sakes, if you can't even make the effort to control your envy, how can you call yourself friends? This is said in connection to the fact that some gals, while being close friends, can be amazingly bitchy. *roll eyes*.If you can't feel disinterested joy as a philosopher once said, then at least control your competitiveness & jealousy. This writer really doesn't understand how some women can be friends while being so catty with each other, comparing their boyfriends (*roll eyes*) and their careers, etc, being bitchy when one of them do so much better than the others. *arched brows* Why can't one just feel happiness for their friends' joy and happiness? I do. And I assure you, my whole clique does too. You can too. I'm sure? No?

Anyway, that aside, *peace made interesting "predictions" about the likely characters of potential bf of yours truly, *snappish & *eccentric. I'm impressed. She said *eccentric needs a steady guy while *snappish needs a sensitive guy & yours truly, a witty one. I know this doesn’t sound like much but her words are too precise & lengthy to recount. In fact, I don't even wanna attempt to recreate the moment, but just you know, it's perfect. I'm impressed and yours truly is rarely so. pat on *peace's back. Way to go. *cheers*

Ok...then *eccentric suggested some scandalous stuff we can do for our bfs if and when we all found the ONE. But seriously, putting black fur with rose petals and love letter in car...hmm...planning seduction...hmm...I wonder if yours truly will ever do such sentimentally provocative actions, but rest assured, dear friends, if *eccentric ever does, it will be great fun...alto I wonder if poor bf will enjoy the embarrassment of receiving a g-string tied to a bouquet of roses delivered to office? I think not. But then,you never know. Perhaps he would?

Would you?

I think...I might...

After all, if we only live once, perhaps we all deserve to do a shockingly provocative gesture or have it done to us?

Or perhaps, we all deserve more than one such gesture?

At least, I think we do.

Don’t you?

Heartbreak, Effortless bitterness....or not

Jerk

You pestered and pestered
Persisted and persisted
Insisted and insisted
Till my defenses crumbled
Till my walls are breached

Then you say you mean nothing
Then you say it's all a joke
Then you say it's just fun
Then you say it's over

Leaving only
Me.

You jerk.

Kel. 10 August 2004.

What's the best way to get over heartbreak? Eat? Shop till you drop? Stay at home and mope? Or just cry it all out or perhaps, laugh? Laugh till you have no mirth left, laugh till you are empty, laugh till you forget? Then once it's all out of your system, you fill the emptiness with what you have left to be thankful for? The once happy memories? Your ever supportive friends? Your family? Your books? Your beloved soft toys? The trees and the birds? The fact that you're healthy and alive?

I really have no idea. Perhaps some people prefer to cry or curse their ex-s? I really don't care which method is used. So long as it's effective. So long as after all the drama, all the self-pity (very justified, of course), all the heartache, you pick yourself up and move on. Speaking without experience, I suppose I can't give good suggestions but it seems to me, remembering his/her badness causes bitterness while remembering the once happy memories bring forgiveness and with it, letting go? I recently read this quote "love turns with little effort to indifference. Only hatred alone is immortal". I disagree. I agree that most people remember bad memories, emotions and experiences more than they do the happy ones simply because negative emotions appear to make a stronger impression. But like everything else, I believe it is a choice. Choose to remember the happy ones; choose to forget the bad ones. Choose to forgive rather than to hate. I know, easier said than done. But hey, whoever said living was easier? Whoever said happiness is easy? And between effortless bitterness and putting effort into being happy, isn't it wiser to choose the latter? And yours truly would like she is wise. (No giggling, please)

Ok sentiments aside, back to cold hearted hard headed bitch talk. Please for evilness' sake, keep your finances clear and clean. In other words, no matter how in love you are, don't don't combine finances, don't pay for your ex's mobile lines, bills, etc. I know I know, what's money between a couple? But really, imagine if you had to break up, it's terrible enough to get over the heartache without worrying about whether the stupid jerk would pay his/her bills or would you have to pay it for him/her. What a tragedy. You can't even enjoy your heartbreak in peace without fretting about mundane monetary matters. Although I doubt such advice would be taken by most people, because once in a relationship, in love, most people just seems to want to combine finances. Please don't get me wrong, I don't mean you should be miserly and never ever give your other half a present or pay for his/her dinner, etc. I just mean its much easier all way round if finances are kept tidy. I mean even between husbands and wives, finances are likely to be a source of conflict, let alone in a mere relationship?

But probably I'm just being my suspicious and overly rationalistic self. *shrug* What to do? I'm just made this way. Thank you whoever up there that is responsible. *clasp my hands in sincere gratitude* But really, between bread and love, why must we muddy up the lines? Why must we choose between bread and love, when we can with effort, have both? Really, some people are just so strange. Or is it just me again? *dryly*

Finally, although I support the method of laughing, forgiving and moving on, that is solely for the person with the heartbreak. For said person's friends, please, feel free to curse and swear at the jerk ex. Please support your friends undergoing such pain, even at extent of losing all impartiality (after all, that's what friends are for?) and forgetting that in a breakup, blame is on more than one party. Although sometimes, the blame is completely utterly one-sided. Yes, I'm biased. So sue me. *arched brows*

It is now official. Dear *bouncy is free and available once again. Good riddance. Henceforth, in this blog, MR HIM IS KNOW AS THE JERK.

Our Generation's Obsession

A Woman's Shortcomings

Unless you can love, as the angels may, With the breadth of heaven betwixt you; Unless you can dream that his faith is fast, Through behoving and unbehoving; Unless you can die when the dream is past - Oh, never call it loving!

~Elizabeth Browning

Love - the obsession of our generation, the overvalued and yet often demeaned emotion of our times. What is the nature of love? Truly, yours truly would not even dare suggest an answer because who in the world can really know what is love. No one. Love is meant to be felt, to be given, to be received but not to be understood. Yours truly, being ridiculously never-been-attached and never-been-attracted-before, has no way of knowing whether love is indeed as the great poets has claimed, but at least I sincerely believe from observation and reflection, that love is irrational, unable to be grasped or defined.

Why is romantic love so much valued over other types of love? I've read somewhat that romantic love is the emotion that can drive one to great depths of despair and yet at the same time, to great heights of bliss and such extreme swing of depths is missing in other loves. In other words, people of our generation would die for romantic love but rare is the one who will die for family and friends. Perhaps that is why Romeo & Juliet is one of the most remembered plays of our times? Perhaps that is why Titanic had such a ridiculous following? Tragic. I mean, if the run-of-the-mill love that I see in the average couples you find around you (my close friends excluded, of cos, for fear of being *murdered by them *grin*), then I think I would rather give love a miss and settle for steadfast kinship or comforting friendship. I mean, most couples I met never have that depth of emotion that romantic love has been exaggerated to contain. Perhaps, if one seriously reflected on it, it's merely companionship and lust rather than love? Perhaps it's just comfortable to have someone rather than being alone? Perhaps what is labeled as love today is merely a facade to hide loneliness? I have no idea since I'm uniquely unqualified to judge love. But yours truly just wanted to point out that I have not seen or felt from any couple a love that is all encompassing, all accepting and in its acceptance, made an individual a better person, a stronger person.

For the sake of discussion, let's assume love can be dissected into bits. What constitutes the bits? I mean, I suppose companionship and lust are part of the ingredients that make up love. But beyond them, what is the X-factor that makes one call an emotion love and not something else. Love, such a simple word but such complicated meaning. Love, such a frightening word. I mean, if love cannot be understood, if love is indeed a certain blindness, a certain, I-can't-help-myself, a "head over heads, can't sleep, can't eat" type of feeling, perhaps we or at least, I would rather dwell on LUST or SEX instead. I mean such simple words, such simple meanings. No complications, no fuss, no mess. But perhaps, no happiness or no bliss? I dun know.

Perhaps someday, someone can convince me that love is noble, that love is indeed as the great poets say, a leap of faith, a beyond comprehension impulse, a beyond this world bliss. That love is not merely lust or fear of loneliness but a desire, a yearning, a soulmate that completes one. But until then, let's not call superficial emotions love. But until then, let's just agree that the world is driven more by mere lust and egoism in the need to dress SEX up. Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against lust, passion or sex. They sound fun and exciting and so much more manageable. I just have a problem with people who dress up their needs and sex drive in wrappings of love.

I have seen selfish lonely people mutually torturing each other in ties they call love but which seems to me, merely chains of self-centeredness and a need to satisfy lust. Come on, what is wrong with mere lust? Nothing. So why dress it up in order to hide one's natural inclination? Why the need to abuse and torture each other in the name of love?

So until someone or some couple let me feel that what they have is "the silver link, the silken tie", the love as angels may, let's not call it love.

At least for today. At least for this moment.

Let me believe that there is more to love than what I see around me.

I want to believe.

Don't you?

Women, Sentimental Fools, they be.

Accepting

I can accept
If you're ugly
Cos once you speak I forget to notice
I can accept
If you are fussy
So long as you’re interesting
I can accept
If you're short
So long as you don't feel short

I can accept
If you don't spend much time with me
So long as I know you think of me
I can accept
Your boorish friends
Cos they are important to you
I can accept
Your family and your past
Cos they are part of who you are

I can accept many things
Many difficult things
But I can't accept
If you two timed me
But I can't accept
If you don't keep promises

But most of all
But I can't accept
If you don't love me
Cos why then should I

Love you?

Kel. 28 September 2004.

I was talking to *bouncy who's on the verge of a breakup (sigh. let's keep fingers crossed for her but hard hearted bitch tat i am, can't help thinking it might be better if they broke up. I still tink one should be decisive abt such things and dun drag/put off painful decisions. After all, life is already difficult enough without unduly prolonging pain. but tat's me. *shrug*). Anyway, we were discussing women and love, and I was thinking that women are such soft-hearted creatures, present company or rather, me excluded of cos. I mean, it's obvious to me from the start that *bouncy was with Mr Him because typically, women are soft-hearted. Give them a guy that likes them a lot & puts in effort to be understanding and sensitive, they can't bring themselves to turn such guys down. If any guy is reading this, I'm not encouraging you to pretend to be nice and sensitive or guarantee tat doing so would win you your gal, but that generally, gals, at least most gals i know seem soft-hearted and unable to turn certain guys down. So here we have *bouncy with a good looking guy who spent much time and effort to win her. And she found herself falling for him. So they get together. If everything ended at this point, fine. Happy ending. Lived happily ever after. But no, life is never so simple. So after putting herself mind, body & soul into said guy & relationship, problems start to turn up.

If we look at the cons, of cos there are many reasons to break up but one pro overweighs all the cons, ie, the big CAPITAL L. Yes, love. Sigh. Women are such soft hearted sentimental fools. Thus, she is now in a quarry. sigh. Poor *bouncy. Perhaps its easy for me to say it so decisively but look at it this way, dear *bouncy says she knows she might be on the verge of breaking up because there are many things many cons she can put up with but what she can't accept is the fact that Mr Him does not keep promises. If he nv promised anything in the first place, *bouncy is not the type to demand but once promised, she is the type to demand someone to keep their word. As such, it shows that a woman can accept a lot of flaws in a guy but every woman has something that pushes her limits. For *bouncy, its not keeping promises. For me, it's committment, integrity and trust. I think I can accept a lot of flaws or bad habits, but really, there are some stuff that I just can't tolerate. I am not fussy abt romance, moonight and candles. I am certainly not fussy about looks and wealth. In other words, I am not fussy in a lot of aspects that I know some girls are, but there are some flaws that I know is not a big deal to most but I just can't accept. But that's not my main point in this blog.

Rather I wanna point that no matter how soft hearted you can be, how romantic the moment, how perfect he seems, never accept a guy for the dumb reason that you can't bear to turn him down. Accepting becomes merely the instrument to hurting both you 2 and worse, accepting might eventually turn to tolerating and then it becomes causing 2 parties misery. I think I'll rather be alone than be with a perfect guy that is imperfect for me. In the same way, I'll rather be happily an individual than miserably a couple. In other words, dear friends, live alone & be happy is better than have someone but in misery. Don't overestimate or overvalue romantic love. There are so many other equally if not more important things in life than romantic love. Even for a cold hearted bitch that I am, all my dear friends and beloved family are vital to me. So, even I can't esscape from the chains of worldly sentiments, even if I wanted to, which I don't. But perhaps, that is what makes a human distinct from a saint? The reluctance to put down the chains of worldly life?

Still, what is so great about sainthood when life has so much color and variety? At least I would gladly settle for life as me with my dear friends than sainthood without them.

So dear readers, be appreciative of everyone and everything around you. Pardon my preaching tone. Just in a sudden grateful sentimental mood. Don't even think to ask me why. Just stop and enjoy the moment. Enjoy life, enjoy living.

Carpe diem. *wink*

Life's a Comedy

The world is a tragedy to those who feel, but a comedy to those who
think.

-- Horace Walpole


Isn't it strange that human beings are never properly appreciative and always, overly angsty? Or is it just me? I mean when yours truly was young (ahem...not that I'm terribly old now, mind you but just older than I was before), I couldn't wait for school to end, or rather I couldn't wait for my future to arrive. My hopes, my dreams, my ambitions. But once out of varsity, there are moments of strange sentimentality. Not that I wish myself back in varsity (trust me, the Spore varsity is not an exciting happening place) but there is a certain forlornness at having left varsity that surprises yours truly. After all, being the cold person I am, whoever would have thought I had some tiny itsy bitsy of sentimental left in me. *grin*

Anyway, this brings me to my point that human beings while always being forward looking aka existentialism, tend to be overly angsty. We (or rather me) look forward to the future but always, end up missing today or more to the point, yesterday. Not so long ago, I was looking forward to leaving school and now here I am, barely 4 months out of varsity and missing school. Although not having lotsa time to slack and go shopping at odd hours of the weekday accounts for part of the forlornness but the fact remains, if even yours truly feels sentimental about leaving a boring varsity, how much more would more emotional individuals feel. At this point, I feel compelled to apologize to *witchy for not being understanding enough about her sentimentality and mushiness at leaving varsity, although how could anyone expect a bitch like yours truly to empathize with the softer emotions, I have no idea.

Perhaps Horace is right and people who feel are more likely to see the world as a tragedy? People who feel miss yesterdays more and perhaps in the midst of missing yesterday, they lose out on todays? I mean I occasionally miss yesterday but generally, I'm more of the look forward to tomorrow type, and have the bad or good habit, depending on how you wanna look at it, of thinking and reflecting too much. Perhaps that's why life appear to be a comedy of coincidences & funny happenings to me? But if you ask me, I would rather and do indeed, see the world as a comedy. We may very well all be actors on a stage with the Gods watching us, like a chess piece being manoeuvered but I believe or would like to believe that choice are in our hands. We can live our lives worrying and fretting or we can laugh and act in face of uncertainty. I needless to say, subscribe to the latter. I want to believe that cry or laugh, we must live on bravely, then why shouldn't we all laugh?

In other words, dear readers, I'm telling you that one should always look forward and even if there are moments of angst (how can there not be when the future is a great UNKNOWN?), we must always move forward. I think it takes courage to move forward knowing that the future is unknown than people who merely feel but not reflect since they only move forward blindly. Pardon my biases but really, I do so more admire people who reflect, more so if they can move forward with good grace and humor. Perhaps, if I can find more people like that, I would have more friends?

I think, probably not.

Moratorium

Breathing Space

A moratorium
A breathing space
To think
To reflect
To forget

Moratorium
Breathing space
Slowing
Pausing
Resting

Breathing space
Moratorium
From work
From life
From reality

Breathing space
Moratorium
I want
I desire
I need

Breathing space
For me
To dream
To wish
To hope

A breathing space
For us
A moratorium
For me

I think I need
A breathing space
A moratorium
From you.

Kel. 27 September 2004.

Tarot Emperor & Me

I am The Emperor

"The Emperor represents structure, order and regulation - forces to balance the free-flowing, lavish abundance of the Empress. He advocates a four-square world where trains are on time, games are played by rules, and commanding officers are respected. In chaotic situations, the Emperor can indicate the need for organization. Loose ends should be tied up, and wayward elements, harnessed. In situations that are already over-controlled, he suggests the confining effect of those constraints."
For a full description of your card and other goodies, please visit LearnTarot.com

The mystic tarot...I always had a fascination for tarot, of cos, it was never an obsession, me being too rationalist & sensible. Anyway, since I'm tired & bored, it's my frivolous quiz time to follow in *starry's lead. Pretty impressive, if I do say so myself. *grin*

Anyway, for some reasons, I can't get the stupid "submit date of birth & voila!, you'll know what tarot card you are" to work, (probably some karmic cycle going against me, determined to disallow computer illiterate me from succeeding despite many others have) so here's the link to find out your card. IT'S MEET YOUR TAROT SOUL TIME. *wink* http://www.obeythefist.com/tarot/index.php?month=08&day=13&year=1981&submit=submit

As an additional bored action, I did the quiz on behalf of my clique, most of whom I have yet to introduce to this blog, reason being, haven't written that many posts & was in a fit of disgusting whininng (forgive me!).

In my dictionary, clique = +close friends -pressure +fun +gossip -stress +happiness +sharing +slumber parties +indulgence +kinky fun. *hugz*

Before listing their results, perhaps some introduction of my clique is in order. We have the mean & high-flyer wannabe, ie, yours truly here, the idealistic creative *eccentric, the contradictory bimbo with brains aka *confused (as an aside, given my pals' ridiculously fabalous academic qualifications, trust me, they are bimbos with the license to be), the bubbly high but probably crazy sentimental *witchy, the authoritative intensely *private with sharp wits (ouch!), the compassionate *peace with mood swings, the *snappish (stop throwing evil looks at me!) but comfy listener, the mild gentle but occasionally mushy *romantic, the literary nature loving but occasional *doormat (poor doormat is whining to herself in a corner) and the unassuming sociable *sweety. Aren't we a group of assorted weirdos? *arched brows*

So dear frens, consider yourself introduced. *grin*

*eccentric = The Hierophant

*confused = The Strength

*witchy = The Hierophant

*private = The Strength

*peace = The Chariot

*snappish = The Hermit

*romantic = The Strength

*doormat = The Wheel of Fortune

*sweety = The High Priestess

Ok. shall tell you more antics of my dear frens when I get the chance. Of cos, I have yet to formally introduce dear damsel & wallflower, which I shall do as and when mood/inspiration hits.

Adieu.

Imperfect Moments adrift Perfection

Imperfection

I like imperfection
Crooked tooth
Cleft chin
Unruly hair

I like imperfection
Stubborn temper
Boorish actions
Childish sulks

I like imperfection
Awful timing
Bad taste
No sense of romance

I like imperfection
At least
I like yours.

Kel. 20 Sept 2004


A nice simple one to jumpstart the possibilities of future scribblings...*grin*. Anyway, I was out with *starry and she was talking about how a stupid guy pointed out her imperfection at a most perfect romantic moment. Dumb guy. Funny moment. At least to me. Why is it that some of the worse or shall I say imperfect moment among a perfect time that gets remembered? Worse, why is it imperfections that most people get the most hung up over when really, it's imperfection that gets remembered? Ironic maybe, but won't you agree, that it is imperfection that makes the perfection more perfect? Won't you agree that one's imperfection makes an individual all the more perfect because I remember the tiny flaw among the wondrous whole? I mean who wants to live with a paragon or a saint? Besides, I'll rather hear a guy tell me "I love you because you're perfect for me" than "I love you because you're perfect". Or it is just me?

Besides, dear *starry, imperfect or not, if you are meant to be, you are meant to be. And if so, who the hell cares if you're imperfect, so long as you are imperfect together? And if you are not meant to be, your imperfection makes you unforgettable. If he can't see this, his loss. Your gain.

Remember that.

Invincible Me meets Mom

"Why is it we think we must handle everything alone? For men, I'm guessing it's the fear-of-vulnerabiliity thing. But what's up with us women? Just who are we trying to impress? We presumably have friends and/or family to lean on in times of need. So why is it so hard to do? Or is it just me?" -- Doona Kauffman

I'm feeling the dumps at the moment, although just half an hr ago, I was perfectly ok. Let's reverse here & go back to the ending of my day. I just had my law test, which was easier than I expected (sulk. I should have studied half less. Imagine all the other more interesting stuff I could have done in half an hr?). Anyway, I was feeling alright, in fact, just got a positive acceptance to attend a written test for a potential career change. I made the mistake of mentioning it to *M and whollah, there goes my ok mood. I just read that "chance makes our parents but choice makes our friends". Well, on normal days, I won't agree, but today, after *M, I would be more inclined to agree.

*M immediately started nagging about my lack of prospects aka low low pay at job, about how I should look for another job, completely ignoring the reason I took the job was for the fact it sponsored my studies and that 4 years down the road I can apply for my MBA. *sigh*. Then I made the ultimate mistake of mentioning that I found the current job a bit slow. HELLO. I meant work pace for goodness' sake, not the pay! But no, *M had to jump right in and say of cos I'm find the job slow, the pay is so low, I start so much lower than all my friends, etc ,etc. *roll my eyes*. MOTHERS. And my *M isn't that conservative or traditional, but boy, does she put a lot of credence on pay. *sigh*. I mentioned that pay isn't the most important consideration for me at the moment, and she completely stomped over me, did I say stomped? I meant ran bloodshod over me. At which point I decided to not explain & just listened. Anyway, she went on to completely ignored my planning ahead to do MBA (who cares so long as in short term I get high pay, according to her) and then she complains that my current job has too heavy workload, overworking staff, etc, etc, while contradicting herself by agreeing that the work pace is way too slow for me. *arched my brows*. Someone please wake me up. Somewhere, lines seem to have gotten crossed.

Anyway, so back to my original point, I'm feeling a bit down at the moment, but typically, despite having a large clique of close friends, I feel compelled to keep it to myself or rather, I'm only sharing with my friends once I'm over it and can laugh about it on hindsight, which is not now. Thus, decided to resort to what I thought I won't do, make my blog into a space for whining. *sigh* And I do so hate to whining & whiners. And in case you can't tell, I'm really quite invincible usually, not given to vulnerable moments or mood swings. In fact, I'm positively intimidating. And it's other people who confide in me. *sigh* What is it about mothers that can so effectively affect our moods? Or it is me?

Friends can be frightening

"Friends know you better than everyone else. Which can really be annoying. Especially when they point things out that you already know...and would sincerely like to pretend you didn't." - Doona Kauffman.

I think I always known the above but sometimes knowing doesn’t always equate understanding. Yesterday, I went out with a close friend *eccentric. Well, actually, it was meant to be a dinner with 3 other frens, but you know how things are, sometimes karma just go haywire and so the other 2 didn't turn up. Anyway, my point is (yes, I do have a point here) it's frightening how much your close friends know about you, worse, it's horrifying how much alike friends can be. Sometimes, alone, you know stuff, but if you dun voice it out, you can pretend it doesn't happen. But if you meet up with your frens, all the un-voiced gets voiced out. Then what you once knew unconsciously but pretend you didn't, becomes a conscious fact. Then it becomes hard to go back to pretending you didn't know. Am I actually making sense here? *very probably not. But nvm, who cares? No one is actually reading this, so let me continue on this topic. Take for instance, my job. I see certain symptoms, little stuff that really mean nothing but you know, or rather, I know if I consciously reflected and added up all the dots, the little symptoms reveals that I'm not exactly satisfied. Or more to the point, I want more. But I just wanted to pretend I didn't know. But who am I kidding here? I hate lying to myself, which I nv do, but not adding dots up are my defensive mechanism. But alas, once I met up with *eccentric, we discuss our lives, our jobs, and suddenly the dots get dotted. And what we both know unconsciously gets voiced out. Suddenly we are one sandwich short of a picnic, to borrow a phrase from *S. In other words, near the point of no return. Standing on a the edge of the cliff where you must make a move or risk falling. *sigh* Friends are great to have, but close friends are so frightening at times. *grimace*

Succumbing

It's 3.30am in the morning, my eyelids are dropping, the words are swimming yet I continue staring at the computer screen. Why the heck am I doing this? I have no ready answer. Perhaps I can blame boredom, blame the stupid online virus scan that is taking ages (why is it that there's always a trojan found whenever I do a scan? I'm starting to believe that there's a conspiracy going on ard here), or perhaps, blame the frens I have who blog and asks me repeatedly to blog too, especially when pple (by whom I mean pple who blog, or as of now, fellow bloggers) learn that I write as R&R. Anyway, so here I am. I've succumbed to THE BLOG. You're now formally introduced to sheercrazyme. Whether I'll keep up with this, we'll see (shrug) but chances are...I might just completely forget and deny that I ever succumb to blogging even for only 1/2hr in the wee hours of the day. Or perhaps, this will just become a place where I post some scribblings and occasionally put in a poem or two for a laugh. Or perhaps, a space that provides me with a convenient excuse to put off everything else that I should be doing but don't want to. Who knows? Who cares anyway. *shrug*

That reminds me, I was taking stock of my frens who blog and realise I have an oriental damsel waiting for her knight and a wallflower, wonder whether there's any connections going on here or am I thinking too much? Very probably since it's late and I'm tired. But I suppose this is my introduction to the sentimental angsty poems that might occasionally grace this space, which really are just a personal space of mine where some parts of myself I dun usually show, being the alpha bitch career woman wannabe that I am, this is my momentary lapse of madness. You've been warned.

So there.