okay. this is my list.
1) earn more monies
2) learn more dances
3) get better at job
4) get better at OTHER job
5) like myself better
6) be a better storyteller
7) write quality pieces more often
8) be nicely political
9) grow claws and learn to use them
10) manicure those claws.
there. not that long a list. ten is a good number. this list seems a good one, it covers the areas that i thought wanting. good.
..i should start another blog on all those emo shit that i can be do full of. all those gloomy, depressing stuff, you know? keep it outside of this part of life. this will be "healthy" and that part will the "unhealthy" side of things.
the person i don't want to become.
right. spot.
Friday, December 29, 2006
butterflies
this sense of unease is killing me. it feels exactly like the pre-break up distress and after-break up wretchedness. what is going on??
i usually i call it quits with someone when i feel this. heh, if it ends before two-month mark. that's when i usually call it quits. :/ this time round though, i actually like this one. enough to show him to more friends.
having said that... hmm.
test of faith, eh? alright. let's do this.
make up your mind, stick with it. love is just chemicals, no? a tad reductionistic, some may say, but this is one of those moments when you need it all to be boiled down to one tiny bitter tablet.
i usually i call it quits with someone when i feel this. heh, if it ends before two-month mark. that's when i usually call it quits. :/ this time round though, i actually like this one. enough to show him to more friends.
having said that... hmm.
test of faith, eh? alright. let's do this.
make up your mind, stick with it. love is just chemicals, no? a tad reductionistic, some may say, but this is one of those moments when you need it all to be boiled down to one tiny bitter tablet.
Thursday, December 28, 2006
the hermit strikes again
hmm. an hour before dinner at his place, with his mum and sister.
i know i should be going.
but i'm still here, considering the possibilities of a freak thunderstorm that will cause me to dial KFC for delivery.
...i think i need a whisky.
i know i should be going.
but i'm still here, considering the possibilities of a freak thunderstorm that will cause me to dial KFC for delivery.
...i think i need a whisky.
age is catching up with me!
this is a tad weird.
it seems that i look 'ah soh' no matter what i put on today.
}:x
uh oh.
it seems that i look 'ah soh' no matter what i put on today.
}:x
uh oh.
Wednesday, December 27, 2006
all dried up
it's all dried up, baby, all dried up.
possessing someone conversely means being owned. a little like how a king's "owned" by his people and his nation being "owned" by him.
it's been a bad day. "possessed", huh.
i've my own family, too. it's just that i don't have a house for them yet; that's why i'm living alone.
possessing someone conversely means being owned. a little like how a king's "owned" by his people and his nation being "owned" by him.
it's been a bad day. "possessed", huh.
i've my own family, too. it's just that i don't have a house for them yet; that's why i'm living alone.
effaced
isn't it odd, when you seem to have everything that you asked for, but somehow isn't happy? what, then, is the issue? is it the world, or is it just you?
personally i'm feeling odd. my question is: what else is there, other than being physically together? i'm not talking about just sex here, but more about everyday interactions.
are we seeing too much of each other? are we talking enough? do we "do" stuff together, like take walks down at botanical gardens, catch plays, go to the beach, visit the library, suchlike enough? are we attracted to each other, do we like each other and "love", to a certain degree, each other but cannot live with each other?
or is it the other way round? can we function as a couple outside of the house? can we communicate, how do we measure up to each other, what are our pluses and minuses, how else do we complement each other?
i am the best; he is a pretty good match.
so then, what prompted this train of thought, this feeling of unease?
..someone told me "when i first felt happiness, i thought it was gas."
is this "my", so to speak, gas? hmm. something more to think about, eh? probably best thought-about alone.
personally i'm feeling odd. my question is: what else is there, other than being physically together? i'm not talking about just sex here, but more about everyday interactions.
are we seeing too much of each other? are we talking enough? do we "do" stuff together, like take walks down at botanical gardens, catch plays, go to the beach, visit the library, suchlike enough? are we attracted to each other, do we like each other and "love", to a certain degree, each other but cannot live with each other?
or is it the other way round? can we function as a couple outside of the house? can we communicate, how do we measure up to each other, what are our pluses and minuses, how else do we complement each other?
i am the best; he is a pretty good match.
so then, what prompted this train of thought, this feeling of unease?
..someone told me "when i first felt happiness, i thought it was gas."
is this "my", so to speak, gas? hmm. something more to think about, eh? probably best thought-about alone.
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
closed.
and that's what happened with me and my soon-to-be-previous workplace. remember the part wherein felix the cat got pulled through the converyor belt through rollers big and small? i was that felix.
don't mistake me for resenting what i had to go through; don't also misunderstand that i had breezed through it a la more-zen-than-buddha-himself without a shred of frustration. i was angry; every day was venom in my veins. don't mistake that iw as happy peelign myself off my bed and sending myself onto that bus to get to work.
don't mistake that.
but like all relationships, i learnt some very important lessons from that place, from my colleagues. i am no longer as green as i used to be, i came out better than when i got in. nine months. how ironic, that. i got accepted on my birthday and two days short of ten months i'm leaving.
it's almost i'm meant to be there, to learn some intended lessons. that's what i got.
and i must then grow.
cause that's what it's all about. i pray that neither of us will stop learning, stop growing precisely because of what we had previously learnt. the ability to recognise when old knowledge is obsolete and accepting the possibility of 'new' knowledge, move on.
cause that's what it's all about.
don't mistake me for resenting what i had to go through; don't also misunderstand that i had breezed through it a la more-zen-than-buddha-himself without a shred of frustration. i was angry; every day was venom in my veins. don't mistake that iw as happy peelign myself off my bed and sending myself onto that bus to get to work.
don't mistake that.
but like all relationships, i learnt some very important lessons from that place, from my colleagues. i am no longer as green as i used to be, i came out better than when i got in. nine months. how ironic, that. i got accepted on my birthday and two days short of ten months i'm leaving.
it's almost i'm meant to be there, to learn some intended lessons. that's what i got.
and i must then grow.
cause that's what it's all about. i pray that neither of us will stop learning, stop growing precisely because of what we had previously learnt. the ability to recognise when old knowledge is obsolete and accepting the possibility of 'new' knowledge, move on.
cause that's what it's all about.
and it takes the sky to fall
...it takes the sky to fall to have you realise you've a friend under the brolly with you. it takes the sky to fall, to make you realise that person holding on to your parasol while you're oh-so-coolly walking is the person who loves you.
and it takes the sky to fall and some damn truck to splash one heckuva a roadside-tsunami of a wave at the both of you to make you understand, amidst the shivers and the laughs, that there's nowhere else on earth that you'd rather be, other than the wet, cold and merry place that you are at.
that's where love is.
and it takes the sky to fall and some damn truck to splash one heckuva a roadside-tsunami of a wave at the both of you to make you understand, amidst the shivers and the laughs, that there's nowhere else on earth that you'd rather be, other than the wet, cold and merry place that you are at.
that's where love is.
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
Monday, December 18, 2006
when i was young
i write a lot. even when my hands are busy, i think a great deal. like when i was busy with my publication, busy looking at building-block pictures online to add colour to my articles (again!) i thought of this:
"when i was youg i thought i could build the tallest of buildings with my multi-coloured wooden building blocks.
"i thought i could build towers as high as my ceiling, as high as the next house, as high as the church beside e well-loved bridge. (there aren't any churches at where i used to play building blocks at. this is just me running away with my mental pen) i thought i could build one so tall i could live in it, the only issue i coudl see as a child then was the lack of building blocks. i was sure i could build one that would compete with the clock tower in that little town back home! (there aren't clock towers, neither. but there was this tower taller than the rest of the buildings standing in the middle of a roundabout that the locals were and are so fond of. i don't understand why)
and i told whomever - often my mother - was nearby so. i also told my father, who was not there, so, as well.
and my mother would often respond with a "no, you can't," to which i'd stubbornly and angrily rail against. (nothing like that has happened, because i shrieked instead of railed. no reasoning involved, just blind rage)
and i determinedly did not believe her realistic but discouraging words. so i built my tower, over and over again, each time it toppled i would stubbornly rebuild it.
i built it and built it day after day. each time i ran out of blocks i would demolish my tower and start over and my towers would always be drastically different, even my mother wondered how i came up with this many variations. my mother did not say anything more about my towers not being able to reach the sky, but she simply watched, as mothers do.
and i built, frustrated by the irony of not having enough blocks, not having something to preserve their structure and shape and HATING the idea that they may be forever confined to a particular idea of what building blocks AREN'T.
and thus, i built on, each day for many days, when i was young. and every day i demolished them, to start over the next moment.
i was obsessed with the blocks.
and my mother said nothing. and my father, who was not there, said nothing as well.
and i built on.
"when i was youg i thought i could build the tallest of buildings with my multi-coloured wooden building blocks.
"i thought i could build towers as high as my ceiling, as high as the next house, as high as the church beside e well-loved bridge. (there aren't any churches at where i used to play building blocks at. this is just me running away with my mental pen) i thought i could build one so tall i could live in it, the only issue i coudl see as a child then was the lack of building blocks. i was sure i could build one that would compete with the clock tower in that little town back home! (there aren't clock towers, neither. but there was this tower taller than the rest of the buildings standing in the middle of a roundabout that the locals were and are so fond of. i don't understand why)
and i told whomever - often my mother - was nearby so. i also told my father, who was not there, so, as well.
and my mother would often respond with a "no, you can't," to which i'd stubbornly and angrily rail against. (nothing like that has happened, because i shrieked instead of railed. no reasoning involved, just blind rage)
and i determinedly did not believe her realistic but discouraging words. so i built my tower, over and over again, each time it toppled i would stubbornly rebuild it.
i built it and built it day after day. each time i ran out of blocks i would demolish my tower and start over and my towers would always be drastically different, even my mother wondered how i came up with this many variations. my mother did not say anything more about my towers not being able to reach the sky, but she simply watched, as mothers do.
and i built, frustrated by the irony of not having enough blocks, not having something to preserve their structure and shape and HATING the idea that they may be forever confined to a particular idea of what building blocks AREN'T.
and thus, i built on, each day for many days, when i was young. and every day i demolished them, to start over the next moment.
i was obsessed with the blocks.
and my mother said nothing. and my father, who was not there, said nothing as well.
and i built on.
it's so because...
it's called "man's best friend" cause you can trust it.
(i was looking for pictures of dawgs online for my publication when my mind retraced what it read about dogs - how they save their masters from burning houses, how they guard the house, what a joy they can be when they greet their masters at the door with such enthusiasm... i think people love dogs because it is almost always a given that they will be loved in return)
(i was looking for pictures of dawgs online for my publication when my mind retraced what it read about dogs - how they save their masters from burning houses, how they guard the house, what a joy they can be when they greet their masters at the door with such enthusiasm... i think people love dogs because it is almost always a given that they will be loved in return)
in new light
(this is scrawled onto a piece of paper more than a few days ago, two weeks after i had handed in my resgination letter)
the shift in perspective is always interesting when you've come to a conclusion.
it's like it does not matter anymore;the hang-ups that been a large part of your daily life are no longer important, nor urgent.
...how unlike back then, when it all mattered!
the shift in perspective is always interesting when you've come to a conclusion.
it's like it does not matter anymore;the hang-ups that been a large part of your daily life are no longer important, nor urgent.
...how unlike back then, when it all mattered!
Monday, December 11, 2006
there's something about tsetse
oh, the tsetse in the office. it be so cheery when i walk in. 'din-din' at someplace cool and posh.
almost like i were the trigger to show off. haha
bluebottle against the windowpane. rather amusing. hahaha
almost like i were the trigger to show off. haha
bluebottle against the windowpane. rather amusing. hahaha
a friend in need
i read in an email from a friend, five days too late, that she's facing some trouble in a foreign land. it's not work trouble, that's easy to solve. it's not exactly money issues, that's still alright-ish. not friendships, she's an affable person - it's familial.
anyone who's not an orphan probably would have witnessed - or worse, tasted - the sting of family politics. hers, is probably the best and the worst position to be at the same time. now. the said friend is a sassy young lady with smarts and a sense of justice. she speaks her mind, has opinions, is strong mentally, emotionally. package that with a likeable character and a pretty face and you will begin to see how it might be if you were to meet her.
from what i gathered, she is, as i said, in the best and worst position to be in in family politics.
no, she's not directly involved but rather she had to witness the injustices carried out right before her eyes. for fifteen years she had endured that and hadn't said a word about it. now that she's facing it full in the face, being stuck as a student overseas where her family businesses are, it got worse.
she still isn't saying anything about it. or maybe she did and had gotten stung in return. one thing's for sure, is that she's now keeping it all in and i know it's killing her, changing her; as mine had killed me, is killing me, is changing me.
i don't know how such human ugliness transpired into a monster such as this exactly but i do know this is not an environment i want to forge with my future family, friendships, etc.
thus... i beseech anyone who reads this: if you dislike someone, please, do not oust that someone. if you must, remove yourself civilly. if you do not deem it possible for you to move or that the other person should move out instead, well, do what you need to but please do not allow others to get caught up in YOUR web.
because it is YOUR web and no one else's. keep it that way.
anyone who's not an orphan probably would have witnessed - or worse, tasted - the sting of family politics. hers, is probably the best and the worst position to be at the same time. now. the said friend is a sassy young lady with smarts and a sense of justice. she speaks her mind, has opinions, is strong mentally, emotionally. package that with a likeable character and a pretty face and you will begin to see how it might be if you were to meet her.
from what i gathered, she is, as i said, in the best and worst position to be in in family politics.
no, she's not directly involved but rather she had to witness the injustices carried out right before her eyes. for fifteen years she had endured that and hadn't said a word about it. now that she's facing it full in the face, being stuck as a student overseas where her family businesses are, it got worse.
she still isn't saying anything about it. or maybe she did and had gotten stung in return. one thing's for sure, is that she's now keeping it all in and i know it's killing her, changing her; as mine had killed me, is killing me, is changing me.
i don't know how such human ugliness transpired into a monster such as this exactly but i do know this is not an environment i want to forge with my future family, friendships, etc.
thus... i beseech anyone who reads this: if you dislike someone, please, do not oust that someone. if you must, remove yourself civilly. if you do not deem it possible for you to move or that the other person should move out instead, well, do what you need to but please do not allow others to get caught up in YOUR web.
because it is YOUR web and no one else's. keep it that way.
Thursday, December 07, 2006
Sunday, December 03, 2006
the toy
the toy that someone inevitably picks up because it looks pretty gets picked up often. it gets loved, gets attention. but then comes a time when something else beckons - like work, or family, whatnot.
that's when the toy is left.
not to say that the toy isn't important - the toy's role is quite crucial in times of crisis. it's a symbol of safety, of normalcy, if i may. it is something some may cling to as a token of the past, or an ideal, or maybe even a dream of an idea of how a person may be.
..toys.
they can be dreams. however real or unreal, there are the things that you hold to yourself each night when you go to sleep, because 'everything else' can't be trusted. just like a certain cousin of mine said: i love walt disney's productions. they're so beautiful. and yes i believe in the romance in those productions. that's what you can hold on to when you go to bed at night.
..and he, in typical fashion, said that it is not possible in real life in the following breath.
"that's why i love walt disney's," he would say, "because that's the ideal. my kinda ideal."
...by and by, i'm beginning to see how he sees it.
and i wonder, if it's such a bad/good thing being a toy.
that's when the toy is left.
not to say that the toy isn't important - the toy's role is quite crucial in times of crisis. it's a symbol of safety, of normalcy, if i may. it is something some may cling to as a token of the past, or an ideal, or maybe even a dream of an idea of how a person may be.
..toys.
they can be dreams. however real or unreal, there are the things that you hold to yourself each night when you go to sleep, because 'everything else' can't be trusted. just like a certain cousin of mine said: i love walt disney's productions. they're so beautiful. and yes i believe in the romance in those productions. that's what you can hold on to when you go to bed at night.
..and he, in typical fashion, said that it is not possible in real life in the following breath.
"that's why i love walt disney's," he would say, "because that's the ideal. my kinda ideal."
...by and by, i'm beginning to see how he sees it.
and i wonder, if it's such a bad/good thing being a toy.
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