caring is creepy

At this hour of the day (or shall I say, night) most of us would be lying in bed, thinking about the day we've gone through.

Some would have dozed off into Dreamland, to encounter the impossibles.

I am no different. As per usual, I'd be lying in my bed, staring into time warp, just replaying some parts of the day, and thinking what could have been, or how different it could be.

I would break the silence as silence would break me. Random songs would be playing in my head, and tonight, it is The Shin's Caring is Creepy.


It is.

When a person starts to care (often too much), creepy things happen. But I don't find any wrong in that.

We just care, and like to care.

But one wonders, if ever, a person would care about her.

And with the notion that there is, there will be, there has to be, someone who cares, somewhere in the world, she dozes off to join the slumber parade.


p/s: i just really miss him. RIP.

match made in music heaven

Hold On by Angus and Julia Stone

Somebody once told me, if you were not to listen to anyone, it would be singers; simply because they don't necessarily know what they're singing about.

But I only partly agree with him. Those who sing from their hearts (vocals and all technicalities aside) do know what they're singing about.

Anyways, it is always such a relief, whenever you find someone who likes the same music as you.

hey listen to me

People talk, here and there. About important things, non-important things, whatever.

Sometimes it's just too much I feel like screaming shut up a*seholes!

I know the person I should be saying that to is probably myself, I'm fond of talking gibberish and nonsense in general that what I say may actually gatecrash people's invisible sanity walls.

I like doing that to people, but don't necessarily like it when people do that to me *pfft selfish ain't she*

But hang on, before you judge (which you might have already), I actually really do listen to people. It's just that sometimes it's tiring.

So how do I filter all that useless trash dialogue the public throw around?

Believe it or not, my ears are powerful; well my mind is, at least (walaw!).

I am a selective listener, so I keep my ears from becoming strained.

The first 50seconds, I will listen attentively. If you got me within that, well, you've got me hooked. If it's not important, or does not catch my fancy, I drop it. Sometimes I pretend to be interested, or a huge proportion of the time, I just wander into other things in my mind.

For you noobs out there, let Yoda help you. You should be grateful, just for my presence in this world.

Here I've got some pointers for you. Read on.

If you want to look interested, but think about something else in a conversation:

1. [If it's a guy] Look at that person's beard/stubs/moustache; it makes you look like you're listening closely, while thinking about what he is saying, but at the same time not giving him the wrong signal by gazing deep into his eyes. Unless you're into him - this is allowed.

2. [If it's a girl] Look at her face in general (don't specify area, the girl will think you're looking at her flaws) and don't ever look away. Even if there's a fly that is bugging you. Or the guy that just passed smelled so good you want to just get a glimpse of his face. Don't.

3. [General] Do not nod your head too much and vary the rapidness of the nods. Ensure good mix of slow nods, and a few vigorous nods where you notice that person is raising his/her voice.

4. Say "hmm" when you sense he/she is asking a question (but you missed it), and follow by saying "I don't know man..really. But I understand what you're saying" It gives the person the assurance he/she needs whilst at the same time, providing enough freedom for he/she to make a decision without you influencing. Win-win.

5. Squint your eyes a little. Not too frequent, just to add some variety to your "attentiveness" in the conversation. For best effect, squint your eyes while looking at the person talking, then blink your eyes slowly and turn away from that person before you open them again. It gives the "thinking far" feel.

6. Tilt your head. This is normally for when someone is talking about how great his/her relationship is going. But you don't really want to hear all about how cute the teddy bear her boyfriend gives her or how his girlfriend has the best body on earth it's alien to humans etc. The more excited the person is talking about it, the closer you position your ear to your shoulder. You can also rest your hand on your elbow, and place your chin in your palm. Don't forget to throw in a little smile here and there.

7. If you suddenly see the person is laughing (which is probably because he/she just cracked a joke that you have no idea what about), cover your mouth with both your hands and face down. If you're supposed to laugh really hard, than cross your arms on the table and put your head on it (facing your knees) and shake your shoulders in a "shivering" manner. Face the speaker once in a while whilst breathing heavily or gasp for air and put a hand on your stomach; indicating you've been laughing real hard. Bang the table a few times, face down, with the combo of all the above if he's still laughing. The key here is: to face down.

TRIVIA: This is because when you laugh, your face actually creates, biologically, some fine lines at the corner of the eyes, and the corners of your mouth - these, you can't fake. So if you don't want to get busted, better hide it.

8.  Put a hand on his/her arm if he/she is telling a sad story. Leave it there. Rub a little, but nothing too extravagant, like hugging etc. The maximum you can go is to put your arm around him/her from the side.

9. Hug him/her from the front, only if he/she is crying (with tears streaming). Make your eyebrows into one straight line, and raise the middle part (where the two eyebrows meet). Turn both your upper and lower lips inward and let out small sighs along the way. Incorporate pointer #8 if need be.

10. Try to counter-attack. This is a weapon for when he/she actually caught you not listening. Begin your sentence with "I know, I'm listening, I'm listening. Just trying to imagine/think". This can be followed by "Hmm..but you know [continue with any counter-reflex statements from his/her previous sentence]" Also, since prevention is better than cure, you can drop here and there when he/she is in mid-sentence with the words "But..don't you think.." and stop there. When he/she asks you what, you tell "No, no, continue. Nothing important"

So, I will stop at #10, before you all start using this against me when I'm talking to you next time. Haha. And just for the record, I normally really listen to people, this is just based on observations on what I think works when you really want to try and listen to people but they are just too boring.

In a way, I'm actually teaching you how to be polite to other people. Hehe. Otherwise, do take the time to really listen to what people are actually really saying (by what they are not saying), rather than just merely listening to the sentences they conjure and throw out to you.

Not saying anything, is also saying something. Think about it. (Walaw! Trying to be deep)

Hope this helps. Goodbye, and be a better listener!

the untying of the ribbon

A small that is big,
A surprise that is expected,
A small surprise.

dude is smart

Stu? What are you doing?
Making chocolate pudding.
It's 4am in the morning, why on Earth are you making chocolate pudding?
Because I have lost control of my life.

- AndyNolastname

Was looking for a song by The Mountain Goats, and found the above by a commentator. Thought it was smart.

A W K W A R D

Disclaimer: highly egocentric, and from a very limited view point of the writer.

Hello World. You are awkward. Yes you, the World. (Don't try to shake your head and cause a dis-orbit)

Some observations to prove:

Observation #1

How you are divided into three categories of people: smokers, second-hand smokers, and non-smokers.

I unwillingly fall into the second category. I have no problems with those who are in the other categories (especially the third), but it always left me in a very awkward spot with the first. When those who smoke, smoke around me, I will most often than not, become a wallflower, eventhough I don't want to. Because then the smokers will feel awkward to smoke around me. Especially when they are smoking while standing, I'm not too sure whether I should cross my arm, stand with a foot in the front, try to act like the smoke they exhale doesn't bug me etc.

I noticed I got the hang of observing smoking friends whom I always hang out with, whether they exhale to the right or to the left, and choose to sit/stand on the opposite so that my hair won't smell of cigarette. It is very awkward.


Observation #2


How you succeed in making me eat my own words. When I say something, for example "I won't ever fall for that kind of dude", I will then fall deeply and madly in love with a guy of that sort and will go for him. Or when I say, "I won't laugh", I will laugh the whole way.

Why do you make me act awkward!


Observation #3


Who invented the lift/elevator? The journey I have to take everyday to work; that 33 floors I have to ride up the elevator can be the most torturous silence I will ever be in. I have no clue how to not make it obvious that I feel awkward or like hide my expression when somebody lets out a "silent killer" that stinks like a soiled underwear, especially when the elevator has mirrors on all four sides. You pretty much can't do anything without anyone trying to look.

Or when there's a cute guy, and you're trying to steal looks, and he caught you looking. How do you hide that blush? (wahhh)

And typical conversations starters will involve whether anyone has eaten (lunch/breakfast/dinner), whether anyone is working late/going back already or how they come to work. And it normally ends there. Major awkwardness.


Observation #4


I am good at this, but I am just wondering how. How I can pretend to laugh real hard at an inappropriate joke told by a boss, a person I've only met for the first time and does not click or have any interest to be so, or a person who tells the joke really badly. Awkward.


Observation #5


How to act when somebody caught you smiling to yourself. I mean, to be able to smile is a basic human right, and these people make it look like you're weird, and stare at you like you're bananas. It's not like there's someone walking around naked.


Observation #6


Awkward-immune people. Those who do not understand how an awkward situation is like. I know I really like to create awkward situations with people for the sake of it, because I like to test how far the mere mortals can put up with such a situation (walaw!), but I know what awkward is.

Some people do awkward things without realizing it is awkward, like for example, a friend I had in school, she was really pretty (we all are --> all girls school, what do you expect), and sweet and all that jazz guys always fall for. In class, she always turns around to talk to me and another friend. One day, she turned around, and while I was talking, she picked her nose. She picked her friggin nose. In front of us. With her index. It was deep. And it was green.

Like what the!

I really don't know how to react to that, and to this day, I'm traumatised. The situation still haunts me in my sleep. I have nightmares coz of it.


Goodbye, I'm going to leave you with an awkward ending. You suck! (try react to that. bahaha)

love lost

Love Lost by The Temper Trap

aku dan gua ku

Beberapa kebelakangan ini aku semakin menjadi anti-sosialis yang berjaya. Aku amat jarang berkomunikasi di internet, malahan juga meng-update blog ini. Apabila di rumah, aku hanya mengurungkan diri di bilik, tenggelam dalam duniaku.

Memang pada dasarnya aku masih yang dulu; keluar bersama rakan-rakan, menghabiskan masa bersama keluarga dan segala apa masyarakat sosial yang lain lakukan. Cuma, entah, mungkin sebenarnya aku tidak "ada" di situ.

Bilik aku, tidak ubah seperti gua zaman moden - buku-buku dan kertas-kertas berselerakan, barang-barang peribadi masih di dalam kotak-kotak hijau Ikea dari tahun-tahun terdahulu. CD yang bertimbun di satu sudut tanpa rak (cuma di susun alphabetically), gambar lukisan abstrak tidak bergantung dan amplifier yang tiada guna di suatu sudut bertentangan.

Bilik ini sebenarnya kecil, untuk orang yang berpewatakan seperti aku - aku suka mengambil dan membeli kerana aku seorang yang adventurus dan jakun, aku suka menyimpan kerana aku seorang yang nostalgis, lalu aku tidak membuang. Aku jarang mengemas dan menyusun semula kerana aku orang yang tidak sukakan kesempurnaan dan perlu berasa familiar dengan sesuatu keadaan.

Akhirnya bilik ini menjadi semakin sempit kerana barang yang banyak, dan aku hanya ada ruang untuk tidur, berdiri dan berjalan sekitar empat tapak sekeliling (radius).

Tetapi, bilik ini membuatkan aku rasa seperti dikelilingi perkara-perkara yang merangkumi segala sejarah ku. Seperti muzium hidup.

Lantas, sepanjang dua minggu kebelakangan ini, aku mulai membaca semula buku-buku lama yang aku jumpa di bawah katil. Haha. Othello, karya Shakespeare baru sahaja ku tamatkan. Agak berat.

Semalam aku membaca The Dog Who Walked With God hasil tulisan Michael J. Rosen dan ilustrasi oleh Stan Fellows, tentang sejarah kejadian manusia di muka bumi serta hidupan lain dari sudut pandangan masyarakat Kato Indians di Athapaskan, utara California.

Buku folklore dan myth ini sebenarnya ditulis untuk kanak-kanak, tetapi aku membelinya ketika di Australia dahulu kerana ilustrasinya yang cantik dan naratifnya yang mendalam.

Tuhan, dalam buku ini, dipanggil The Great Traveller. Terbuka untuk argumentation oleh masyarakat sejagat, tetapi juga spesifik untuk kaum yang memanggilnya sebegitu.

Cara penceritaan asli dari wakil kaum Kato ini sangat menarik. Contoh (seperti diceritakan oleh Bill Ray):

Water went, they say.
Waters well melt, they say.
Land was not, they say.
Water only then, mountains were not, they say.
Stones were not, they say.

Dua pengajaran daripada buku ini:

1. Setiap kejadian tuhan itu diberi nama, dan berhak untuk dihormati dan dipanggil dengan nama yang diberi.
2. A dog, is a man's best friend.

Sekian, aku akan kembali berhibernasi di gua ku.

the graceful struggle

.

A lotus;
A duck;
In a lake.

...

For 2011

from here

tahun baru --> masa --> aku -->?

Sebagai seorang yang degil dan bersikap neo-konservatif, saya dengan ini mengisytiharkan Tahun Baru untuk diri sendiri jatuh pada 11 Januari 2011.

"Mengapa begitu non-konformis wahai Izza? Apa yang cuba kau buktikan?!" teriak masyarakat dunia.

Ya, kerana saya belum bersedia menerima hakikat bahawa ini adalah tahun baru! Saya berhak membuat klamasi dan deklarasi sebagai manusia bebas!

Dan juga sebab nak tarikh: 11.1.11

Oleh kerana saya sentiasa percaya akan prinsip Masa yang dibentangkan oleh Stephen Hawking dalam bukunya yang paling terkemuka, A Brief History of Time, bahawa:

Time is relative

Atau alih bahasanya: Masa itu keluarga.


Eheh, bukan, bukan.

Maksudnya masa itu terpengaruh dek individualis dan persepsi mereka nan tersendiri. Ia terinterdependan pada pelbagai faktor, terutama manusia itu sendiri.


Bibik sebelah rumah akan mempersoalkan:

Dik Ijjah, kalok gitu, maksudnya masa itu ya berbeda-beda dari guwe sama loh? Mana mungkin hari Senin guwe samaan hari Rabu loh. Usah bikin bingung dehh! 


Ya Bibik, oleh kerana masa itu bukan suatu yang objektif dan muktamad (suka hati je buat teori sendiri), saya yakin yang kita boleh mendefinisikan masa mengikut keperluan dan kehendak individualistik.

Bibik masih ingin memprovokasi teori yang aku baru bentangkan:

Haha ya percuma aja guwe deklarasi hari Libur setiap hari! Majikan guwe juga ngak bisa marahin guwe! Kok bisa begitu Dik Ijjah? Enggak mungkin sihhhh! Guwe ni masih bingung nih!


Masa itu hak setiap insan! Masa itu hak setiap insan! Masa itu hak setiap insan!

Khabarkan pada majikan mu wahai Bik Syoliha, bahawa masa itu juga tiada majikan! tiada siapa boleh menuntut hak sebagai pemilik masa yang unggul dan satu!

Malahan lagi, sebenarnya, masa itu majikan kita! Kitalah hamba kepada masa!

Bibik berfikir sejenak, sambil mengupas kulit bawang dengan rakus, seolah-olah bawang itu adalah kepala majikannya.

Guwe percaya sama loh sratus persen.

(wah wah, boleh jadi sinetron)

Oleh itu, guwe, eh guwe pulak dah. Saya dengan ini masih belum meng'embrace' Tahun Baru.

Sebagaimana usia itu hanyalah nombor, begitu jugalah tarikh tahun baru bagi saya.

Bahahahahahaha.

one-hit wonder

If you were to be a musical instrument,
You would be a cello
- deep, abashed and certain. Strong, masculine.
No significant effect on overall sound,
but imperative and can't be without.
Your sound is assuring,
steady and powerful. Unafraid.

If I were to be a musical instrument, 

I would be a harmonica

- simple, yet distinct. Shrieking, and annoying.

Delightful companion. Easy to handle, but not easy to play.
Memorable solos.

But really,
If I were to be a musical instrument,

You would want me to be a clarinet

- quiet, feminine. Loud, only when need be.

Nothing special. Better in large numbers.

But high-maintenance, shiny, expensive.

Forgettable.

As a song,

we would make a wonderful beat

-  feisty, 2/4 and keep listeners on their toes.

Sing-along-able, dance-able to, universal.

But of course, all we ever became was

a one-hit wonder.

They never fail.

Hello earthlings. 10% of the world population is very talented. I wonder, sometimes, if I belong to that 10%.

What about y'all?

But fo' sho (yes, being fake ghetto is my talent), momma put a dime onna fact that these kidz are the Shizz. With Christina being the new ed to the talented clan.

Cekkidout yaww.



These guyz are in momma's good bookz. Momma like. Momma dig. Momma won't be caught wearing a wig.

(Hahah ok folks, momma tried to rap but failed miserably)

Momma had better sign out. Peace.


Footnote:

Christmas wishlist (if i were to celebrate it): Kurt Hugo's drum in the video. So fit for travelling.

Atok

I call my grandma Atok. Eventhough people normally refer to their grandpa as Atok, and Nenek/Tok Nek/Opah etc to call their grandma.

I call all my grandparents Atok, both my mom's and dad's side, and some feel that it might strip the sense of exclusivity. But no, I remembered even when my other Atok (grandpa) was still alive, and I was calling Atok, they would know which Atok I was referring to.

Anyways.

My family and I was having dinner just a few days ago with the female Atok, and she did something really cute.

We ate beef, and you know how it always get stuck in between your teeth.

And so at the end of the meal, my mom asked for the toothpick. I normally do it manually (unlady-like, whatever). And my dad, and my brother too.

My Atok, didn't want to feel left out, asked for a toothpick too.

And as I saw her trying to function it, I noticed she only had two teeth on the bottom.

I asked Why do you need a toothpick for?

She said "Dah lama Atok tak guna benda nih" ("Been such a long time since I last use this")

I just smiled and watched her trying to pick fake beef out.

I miss her.

No rain, no rainbows

I have never been this lost. Usually, I would at least have a vague idea of what to do, where to go - the big picture at the very least.

I actually felt scared.

So I prayed. And recited the Quran. This time, I read it with the translation.

As I was flipping the translation, (I started with the short surahs), I stopped at one of them and surely, it was like He had been listening.

It was surah Al-Insyirah, meaning The Solace.

It said:

(In the name of Allah, the Most Gracious, the Most Merciful)

Have We not open for thee thy bosom
And removed from thee thy burden
Which had well nigh broken thy back
And We exalted thy name?
Surely there is ease after hardship
Aye, surely there is ease after hardship
So when thou art free, strive hard
And to thy Lord do thy attend whole-heartedly

Something caught my fancy. In the whole entire Holy Quran, only once is a sentence repeated twice. Ever.

Surely there is ease after hardship

He knows. He knows it would be hard, there would be obstacles, there would be times when we feel as if the world has come to an end. It must be the end because it feels so. He knows.

I am sure there are other interpretations to this sentence in a more macroscopic way - like how us Muslims will rise for the second time after a long draught of challenges (9/11 is probably one of the many) and multiple others.

But I am sure it is also meant for a more personal take. It is sort of like a pep talk from Him asking you to hang in there; that there will be a light at the end of the dark tunnel. He used the word 'surely'. Which I presume translates that no man is in misery for long; that is His promise.

Now, if only we have a little more faith in Him and the good things that will come.

For now, I am a little bit relieved, because I know somehow, things will work out for me in the end.

Is there hope for the hopeless?

Heaven by Brett Dennen

Go Ginger.

As long as a train on a wedding gown.

And so, friends from all points of my life, age ranging around early to mid 20's are freaking out. Right now, this moment.

Why?

It's the wedding season, mate. (pun intended to connote 'mating')

They are beginning to feel like they are running out of time. They thought shit. I'm gonna grow old and wrinkly alone. Nobody'll be there to help wipe my ass

They worry. And panic.

And why is it exactly do I only refer to them and not me?

Before you start thinking that not only I am a feminist, but also an extremist of freedom and individual rights, let me tell you, I do want to get married.

And not just coz of the wonderments of the wedding, but also, really, for the marriage itself.

I may need a dude to clear the clogged pipes and trim the grass to my lawn. Haha nah, kidding guys. Now you must think I am a sexist.

At least, I don't think love is bullshit, although I know it is blind.

Hence, I can blindly marry a guy solely for his abs (though not my cuppa tea), or his assets (bodily and/or material), or his car.

Since love is blind, I might as well consider musicians, one hit wonder bandmembers, ex-junkies who have ambitions, poets, tortured artists, politicians, a few taxi drivers, hopeless romantics, arseholes, douches, jerks.

And my point (I swear i have a point), is that when you fall in love, with no matter who, you would definitely want to get married. Getting married, is sealing the deal.

And why I am not as enthusiastic nor panicky about rushing to find my mr.right-there-waiting-for-you and demand a ring is because of, well, probably the fact of how blind I can be when it comes to love.

From past records, whenever I rationalise about love, I don't get the guy. When I go ah suck it just go crazy, it works (for a while).

So girls and guys, let momma preach.

Falling in love is like house-hunting. When you've found the right property, you will straight-away start making plans. You will envision your future with the house; where to put your picture frames, is the lawn big enough for the kids to play,if the kitchen is suitable for stir-fry kind of cookings etc.

But let it be known, you haven't actually start living in the property, hence, it's all good at this stage.

Being in a relationship is the investing. You will invest a lot of time, money, energy. Things might get to you about the construction, but you will be calmed with the thought of your visions.

Then you get married. This is signing the contract. It comes with terms and conditions, and small prints that you may ignore. Once you signed, the house is yours.

And you start living together, building your family. It is in that house that you make babies and memories, nurturing the well-being of your partner and off-springs. This is like the maintenance of a house. As you go deeper in the marriage, you start noticing the things you should have read in the small prints. There will be leaking you need to repair in your relationship, cleaning up the house and the mistakes you made, realizing that the design of the house may not necessarily be or look the same as the initial plan you saw at the showroom, but making do with it because you have signed the deal.

Along the way, some may decide to move out; like getting a divorce. They may or may not remember the memories of the old house. Some move to a better home, some worse, smaller or bigger. Some live alone, some with a new family.

Those who do not want to remember the old house, they sell the contracts they signed earlier. Those who do, they cling to the remains of the contracts. Pieces of furniture may not be there anymore, they might want to refurbish the living room, where the family used to hang out.

But most couples live in the house for the rest of their lives, staying true to the deal. Making it through ordeals after ordeals, as strong as the oak tree in their garden.

Nutshell, love is not marriage, neither is marriage love.

Love is not only blind, but also vague and subjective. It can be developed. It is a talent.

But marriage is the real thing. Even with love as deep as the Atlantic ocean where Titanic sunk, some marriages do not last. Marriage requires skills - to work with/together. To know who's the top and bottom (excuse my bluntness), who's wearing the pants and apron. To understand the different roles one has to take and shift into fluidly.

It is no play, it is no game.

So marriage is not a matter of time, it is the matter of readiness. It is a matter of not only finding that person you want to sign the contract with, but also the person you want to live through countless pest controls, renovations and sewage repairs with.

Nutshell in a nutshell, you will get married when both of you are ready.


There's no necessity to panic or rush, just the necessity to learn to embrace the fact that time is relative to each and every person. Hence, I might get married anytime.

Could be in two years time, could be in five, could be tomorrow (that guy must be an ultra hunk if I decide to marry him tomorrow!).

Take your time. There are lots of houses out there for you to browse!

And oh, good luck :)

High on sniffing lavender

Today was an unusual weekend.

Everybody was home; me and my brother especially, since we are always out.

It was a rather pleasing one - serene.

On Friday morning, my dad had a huge outburst; that was the first time I saw him screamed in frustration. There were tears streaming, of angst and probably disappointment.

All of us just froze, and my mom just endlessly apologize for something she didn't do nor know why. She just figured apologizing may do the trick. None of us knew what to do.

None of us knew why my dad acted that way.

Apart of me felt like crying. It was as if 50years' worth of regrets boiled down to that moment, and it chose then to surface.

My dad looked really tired and his spirit, withered.

We stood there - all five of us, just stared at him. He was oblivious to our staring.

And then I went to work. I almost felt bad for having to leave, but I wouldn't want to arrive in the office just in time for lunch.

My dad did not speak to anyone. Until today.

Yesterday, he burned incense and the whole house smelt of lavender. Lavender helped to soothe him down. He is weird in little ways.

This morning, I woke up in a very different vibe. As if I have had the deepest sleep. I think I owe it to the incense. Felt like I had been sleeping in a temple.

I went out of the room to see it still burning. My parents were sitting in the kitchen having breakfast. I went straight outside in my pajamas and the smell of grass woke me officially.

I unlock the bicycle chain, and took a ride around the hills - yes, still in pajamas. Didn't even brush my teeth. But I felt fresh.

The Fixie didn't have any gears and so I became tired having to ride up the hill, and more people were out to jog. I didn't want to face any neighbors with morning breath so I headed home.

Brushed my teeth and went straight to the kitchen. Pancakes. Yum.

Saw my dad stared at me in a quizzical look, so I told him I went for a ride.

He suddenly just burst into laughter. Like a real laugh.

"you went and cycle in baju tidur and looking like that?!"

Yeah, apparently.

He continued to laugh.

Glad that made his day. And that it also returned my dad back to normalcy.

It wasn't until I finished my breakfast and went to the toilet to shower that I noticed my hair was a display of 'bed hair' gone literal. It was atrocious and an embarrassment. In fact,
it took on the shape of my pillow because the right side was extremely flat as compared to the i-just-got-electrocuted-look on the right side.

I looked like half Einstein half Legolas.


Somedays, I would just hate being me and would contemplate jumping off Penang Bridge (selected on purpose to show political representation)

But today, is not one of those days. In fact, I felt relieved for cracking my dad up.

Everyone was extremely sweet today. Mom didn't make a fuss about laundry, dad went on reading, brother washed the cars and rode. I practiced typing with my typewriter, sisters minded their own business.

Pleasant day.

And to what do we owe it to?

The incense. It was a great idea. Good job Dad.

we don't cut, just bruise.

I don't really know how to put this nor am I sure of what to say.

In fact, I'd rather not do anything about it. But as my lecturer once told me in a Language and Identity class, not doing anything is doing something.

So I need to find the right balance between doing something and not doing anything, so that I achieve a zero on the axis.

But exactly what is it that I need to do, and/or don't?

To be honest, life (overrated word) has been patchy - I say patchy and not rocky or bumpety because the scale is not relatively bad - and yes, I do feel a little bit sea-sick eventhough I am on land, because of the subtleties of the "waves" I face.

Thing about me is, I like to store problems in a small paper box and shove it under the bed (which I'm sure a lot of people do, and would end up sitting on a couch across a therapist, or in an institution, or can also end up in heaven/hell), waiting to explode, tear apart from all sides and vomit all its contents.

The vomiting part is the scariest. You have to deal with everything, all at one go.

But it also gives you a sense of relief. If, you deal with the problems.

I haven't lain down the problem. Well, I can't. I've got it at the back of my mind, and it's getting pretty cosy there.

Hey, I have a random question. Why do people go to Boston when they don't want anyone to know their name?

Was Augustana just referring to his own exclusive situation, or is he helping us out in telling us where to go to deal with our overdue, undealt-with problems?

I'd really like to know.

I've also been losing a lot of important things. Like official certificates I haven't moved from the box in a bajillion years and apparently they have feet because they are not there anymore.

I lost my favourite tan corduroy pants (ok, not so important. but special).

A bag I bought in Australia and is multi-purpose.

Some memories and faces.

Memories of used-to-be Very Important Persons.

Memories of significant venues and places, which I think I remember, but not anymore. Maybe I also forgot whether I purposely forget them?

Some memories.

My handphone? Yes, that too.

I am not really liking how I am living my life now. Maybe work has consumed me, if so, that is a problem.

Or maybe, work is the solution to my problem.

Either ways, the amount of work I do (not as if I drown myself in work anyways) has nothing to do with the decision on why I live the way I want to.

I know I am talking gibberish, and if I were to have an electronic ear that can give some default programmed response, I would rather rant to it, than write it here.

But I don't. And I need to record these insecurities, uncertainties, doubts, worries that I have in this blog.

Because I know, I would be reading it some time in the future when everything is sure and certain again, and I had achieved what I wanted and go: Oh, it was just a rough patch. I survived.

I need to set this as a benchmark for myself.


I know you don't understand, but somehow, you do.


Tweet

My friend and I

Ahh, it's you again.

Sometimes I wonder if you will ever leave me alone.

I have a feeling I will be stuck with you for a long, long time.

Not that I can do anything about it.

Maybe I could,

But prefer to have you here.

You are now my friend.

I am miserable, and you are Misery.

Best thing is,

We have each other.