2 years later

For a long time, I had in my head the words I wanted to say most if I saw him again. I have rehearsed those speeches in my nightmares so many times that I thought I could reel it off at the top of my mind if I ever bump into him. When it did happened, when he finally sum up enough courage to ask me out for coffee and chat, the ghost of our relationship has already found its resting peace and the disappointment that has been left unspoken of for 2 years is so prodigious that I honestly think, would never go away.

 

Nevertheless, it felt like a huge boulder stone has been lifted off my chest to be able to trash out my emotions proper after such a long time. The long silence served its purpose as  a.) space for us both to breathe, b.)healing turf for my pain and c.) an aperture for me to grow with grace and in maturity.

His apologies and contriteness were expected. His admittance of guilt of infidelity and of being a cheating jerk were anticipated. However, I did not augur that his idealogy of me as a person was bended and distorted to an extent. He expected me to club him to death. I would rather he stay alive and live to reflect and regret on his selfishness.

After being part of his life for half a decade, he knew so little of me, understood just a fraction of my character and never saw that I profess the emotional intelligence to cope with his lies and transgressions, until that day.

I am not perfect as a person. I admit that I have my imperfections. I had my fair share of ugly side and tantrums throwing in the relationship. I whined and I complaint. I had my dissatifactions and I did drive him up the wall crazy with the expectations I set up for us.

I was stubborn and silly. No matter what the odds were against us, I persisted to help pull us through the storm, even if it meant mending heartbreaks after heartbreaks. I refused to listen when others around me told me - that I could do better without him.  

His book of excuses has expanded indefinitely. He confessed that he still possess a filthy lot of excuses till today. Old habits die hard.

Although the wound has healed, the scars never stop reminding me that once, someone that I loved so dear betrayed me. By his own admittance, he ran away when the going gets tough. He abandoned ship and took the easy way out. I just wished his character build up was better. If I am able to turn back time to when he was a child, I would teach him never to cheat. on his exams. and on his girlfriend.

The things I said to him 2 years later were the same as the words I had 2 years ago. Maybe then I lacked the maturity to articulate it the way I could now but the message has never changed.

The DNA that very much make up who I am still has not changed. Its surprising that he said I make more sense to him now - now that he is willing to listen and more compassionate of a person. I failed to tell him, if only he was not screaming that much back then, he would have heard what my heart wanted to say and it would have saved me from having to pick up pieces of my broken heart.

My well of bitter ale has run dry. There are no more vestiges to hold on anymore. It is cathartic to come together as adults and make decent conversations after more than 750 days in silence. It is a relief to be able to see the wolf in the sheep disguise.

If I could change one thing back then, it would be complications he put us through. The very foundations of our relationship, trust, has been hammered through and through by him. He literally pulled out the bricks that constructed our relationship and when that's gone, what more had he or could he have expected?

I very much doubt that he will be able to capture the catastrophic effect he has rained upon me. He never will because I think he lacks the emotional intellect to understand that feelings are fragile and a human heart must be treated with care. He is not a fighter when it comes to love. He is a seeker. A seeker of an exit door and a seeker of excuses.

Everything happened for a reason. His departure made me the person I am today, more stoic, more independent and more liberated. He freed me from those deceptive rose coloured tinted glasses and now my visions are clearer. Others have been right, I am better without him.

It now make sense that those closest to me were able to tell that I was falling for Mr. Wrong when I could not. Its now laid out so clearly in front of me why he is a bad idea. Perhaps then, I was too young, too willing to believe that all I ever needed in a relationship was someone who made me laugh. Things have changed. I am now wiser by leaps and bounds now that life has played its little joke on me and my cynicism has just about eroded the last of my girlish hopes and dreams, imbuing me with a wary eye and an unfailing gut feeling.

Blame it on those damn rose-tinted glasses again, but when I was in the throes of a passionate relationship, it is easy to overlook the details, wave off his shortcomings, finding explanations and excuses. This fail relationship taught me something the hard way. Self respect, patience, never to disregard my gut feeling, courage and self confidence. This lesson came unexpected but it is always the hands on experience that makes an impression.

Thank you for 2009

My weekend trilogy was amazing. I clocked in so many hours of sleeping, eating and drinking time that I am probably overworking all my organs. I managed to squeeze in a little serenity time at Borders but only to grab a cook book for Christmas present. The countdown to Christmas is always exciting, its looking forward to meeting friends and family, its knowing that there will be surprises waiting for you underneath the tree and its the memories of past christmas that keeps us on our toes, wondering what is in store this year for us all.

At some point in this year, we may get nostalgic and realise that 2009 will be gone in just barely 2 weeks time. Like drinking, its in that moment when the last drop tickles down your throat, that's when you see that moment of clarity at the bottom of your the bottle.

Someone made me realised that life is short and too often, I find myself not having say enough from my heart to the people around me. in life, everything comes in pair. the good comes with the bad. the beautiful with the ugly. the dark and the light. the beginning and the end. with good times, comes inevitably, the bad. at least in my life, I find this to be invariably true. for one, death is a departure. one of the tenets in life should be to have fun and enjoy it as much as possible before you have to leave.

I had a rather good 2009 so far, with a few days left for it to play a prank on me, screaming, tricks or treat!Before this year ends, I want to give my bits and pieces of awe-inspiring thank you rambles to those who have made my life count. you have to put it all into perspective. words may do no justice in capturing my profound emotions for all your people  and if you were just next to me, I would have manifest all these emotions into a big hug. However, as all my favourite people are scattered around the globe, words will just have to suffice.

In this journey of life, I am blessed to have had friends to discover things with. To grow with, to laugh with. To bitch with and to rattle with. For all of you who have came from far and wide, brace the traffic and put your livers at risk and witness my celebration of my 24th this year, a big thank you. For those who have tread with me patiently in my walk with God, guided me and enlightened me on His words, I owe you more than words can say. I can only tell you that you have given me the sight and the faith throughout the storm. For those who has whisks me away for holidays and getaways, thank you for sharing my stressful moments, my bad haired days, and left me with wanting more of you people. You kept me moving and looking forward when life throws me in the deepest end. I will not understand why you choose to be friends with me. I will not know why you all stuck by me and I will never have enough to go around for each and everyone of you sweethearts but I thank you all for such awesome 2009...be it bitter or sweet.

I ran through a fullisade of emotions and I like to believe that my rationality kept my sanity for the year, but what struck me the most is that you kept running this race with me. I can't say much for the next, what with female hormones, menstrual cycles and all the symptoms that precedes them. as we get older, our love comes with MANY conditions. we have our list of wants and our avatars of idealism. some of us, God-willing, may happen to meet someone who meets all these expectations. Nonetheless, with my flaws and imperfections, I am thankful that some of you could see pass them or even have the audacity to pretend that I am perfect as a friend in ways that I cannot conjuer.

I love you guys too for such an amazing friendship.

Here are snippets of my life in 2009

There were of course many others who has been part of my 2009 but they were and still are too far for me to capture any momentos with them for viewing here. They were the most extradinaire of all as they bridge the miles that seperate us with their phone calls, their emails, they drops -ins of hellos on msn and skype, their scribblings on my facebook wall and snail mails. John, Shean, Patrick, Wai Shin, Rachel, Victor, Roxanna, Maria, Joyce, Fungying & Paul Koshy, Ricci, Shawn, Andy, Hisako, and all my other friends whom I have unintentionally left out, it isn't because you arent signifcant in my life but rather, my memory tends to fail me at this age - thank you for 2009!

Love Bites

I used to think that if I stop talking to a person, we have ran pass the line of fate and that our season has passed. It's always hard to let go, to move on and to cut ties. Above all else, to feel the lost, to weep in grief, to experience that heart wrenching pain of knowing that that person will no longer and can no longer be a part of your life, to be the one left behind and to be the one who is staying, it's hard. Everything feels simple, feels easy until you think of it and go through it. Love is intensified by the absence. We sometimes hope and wait. Like the women of fishermen who have gone to sea. We stand at the edge of the waters, scanning the vastness of the sea and into the horizon for that tiny ship. Praying that our men will return to us.

How does it feel to be the one waiting?

Each passing moment, each waiting moment is as transparent as glass. You go to sleep alone, you walk alone. You work until you are tired, you watch the children play and you hear the patters of rain. Everything resonates loudly. On some days, you wake up and feel like you are in a dream. One of those dreams you realize you forget to study for an exam you are taking and you are wearing you pyjamas out on the streets. And you have no money with you. The saddest thing is that this dream doesn't go away.

There will no longer be someone to catch your tears, someone to hear your rattles, someone to pick up your calls at wee hours in the morning, and someone to call your own. They may still be there, but they are no longer there when you need them. It is not their place to be anymore. It is not their number you should dial anymore, not their hands to hold when you fall and not their ears to whisper to.

Love is a strange and funny thing. Love is an invisible string that ties two heart together. It is the conductor that orchestrate a symphony in your hearts. Love is a verb. It is an "action" word. Not just a proclaimation or a declaration of affection but rather as a promise that will be put to actions. Love as a commitment. "All you need is love." "Love hurts." "Love is a many splendored thing." "Love is a dog from hell." The clichés and jabberwocky of love spill forth from even the most skeptical poets. We always buy into the experience because, like age and death, it's the one damned thing that nearly everyone will suffer in our lifetimes. It's never easy.

In an unflinching honesty through an uneven concoction of nostalgia, sorrow and terrible insights, love makes you wait. You do not know how great those feelings can be until it hits you with a ton of bricks. Someone says to you, steal a car and drive it off the cliff and you asked, automatic or manual. That's the trouble in waiting for somebody special. You become numb. You might even suggest to set the car on fire before driving it off the cliff.

There is no one defined feeling. Neither can it be articulated into words. Others simply refuse to acknowledge that the lost can be consuming. They figure if they cannot see it, maybe it will just vanish, like a scary ghost. But that is like giving up on our dreams and ourselves. We just do not hear the tiny sobs that echo in those empty hearts. Even if we, how long can we live with it for? We should never give up on ourselves. Even if others do, we don't. If we care enough, we will talk about it. Why have we stopped doing so? I now realised, the reason I stop talking to a person, the silence, is because I have given up on that person.

Perhaps I was too willing to believe that every relationship had a shot no matter how bleak it look on the surface. We believe that by standing at the shores, we were being good women. Faithful. Resileient. Stupid. Strong. Those damned details bites you where it hurts. When your life is no longer such a dream, reality bites and sinks its teeth into you flesh, promising to get the best of you. The best of you should be left for the best person for you. Don't let it go. Forgetting someone may be impossible, but ignoring someone isn't. Time waits for no men, so should every women.

Suzie and Phillip

Last Raya weekend, I managed to squeeze time to catch my aunt and uncle who had came all the way to Genting from Singapore for a romantic gateaway. Besides my parents and the walrus family, they are the two people whom I have grown very fond of for their worldly wisdom and nurturing love. Though I hardly see them, I would still like to think we did great as relatives who live abroad from each other in trying to keep in touch, catching up and appreciating this blood relation.

It is great to be around them. They make you feel loved, cared for and accepted just as you are, warts and all. No matter how far we live from each other, how little we see each other and the sporadic occasions we speak on the phone, they are still family. I am still their niece whom they have watched grown up, went to university, had her heart broken and now, wishing my parents will find my a husband and marry me off. So yes, the marriage topic is popular nowadays. I feel so close to expiry everytime some relative pop that question. I know my eggs are limited (because Plan Bee told me and brag about his unlimited supply of sperms) and that my wrinkles are showing but marriage...it is there but not quite there. *Wails in despair*

I spent a few hours with them debating on life, sharing my ups and downs, and generally getting their 2 cents worth of what should I do next in life. It feels nice to see people that knew you when you were small and cute and didn't know any better; then to meet them again years down the road and talk adult talk. I have always enjoyed their company. They were there to talk me through when I found it difficult to return to England after the heartbreak. The right words were spoken - accolades, hugs, tears, listening ear, simply being the wise adults for their niece. Meeting them that weekend reminded me of how much I have matured over the years. How different I have become since I was kid, how proud my parents would have been of me for not bringing up a messed up kid who has no future, no dreams, no ability to stand on her own and without a thinking mind. We mused and laugh with them for a couple of hours over starbucks, took me to the casino, share their stories of grandchildren and jackpots winning, and ride with me on the monorail. Sadly, time flies and goodbye was so hard to say. The only consolation was knowing I was riding back to KL to a bunch of nutters who will take that sadness of my face and replace it with stitches in my stomach.

Thank you Aunty Suzie and Uncle Phillip for being such cool relatives. It was grand to see you both again, younger than ever and lovelier than I can remember. and yes I got it, a rich husband is not good (but if treat you nice, then good lo), find a not so rich one and also not so poor one. Most importantly, I am independent on my own. See, I told you they are wise...

Miserably unfrench

I was there

I caught the musical Les Miserables when I was traipsing in London. I debated with the Astronomist for 10 whole minutes on how to pronounce this miserable french word before embarassing myself trying to buy two tickets for us at the counter.

Me: less miserable-less
He: it's Lee Mee Zeerab
Me: Huh? why so difficult wan..leh mah mee sedap serap?!!
He: You really need to dig your ear...not mee sedap or mee goreng la..its Meezerab. you've gotta say it quickly.
Me: I am freezing..SEE my teeth are clattering, (*clatter clatter clatter*) its' impairing my pronounsee-a-shawn
He: Its french. speak it like the french. they like to join all they syllabus together.
Me: I am Chinese. I will say it the Chinese way. Less Miss-a-rabbless
He: yeah..i miss your ramblings. *grins*
Me: I-diot. Now I am lost in translation..aiyo..just go watch la

At the ticket counter:
Me: Two tickets for Less Miserabless
Ticket guy: Wot''s dat, Love?
Me: Erm...the musical which is showing now.. that french one? *looks innocent*
Ticket guy: Wots the name, love?
He: *and when a hero comes along* Lay Mizerabh for two please.
Ticket guy: Ai, two tickets for Lay Mizerabh *grins at me*

It was quite an alright musical but I didn't like it as much as I enjoyed Lion King or Phantom of the Opera. Victor Hugo ( the man who wrote the novel) is an amazing writer who articulately piece together the nature of law and grace that evolve around life and it very much entails the centuries old of France history, architecture, culture, justice, religion and moral principles. A man who wrote in such great length of a convict, Jean Valjean and his journey through life and its bitterness. However, it was too much for me to comprehend it all. I must also be tone deaf as I didn't quite like all that singing. or maybe (a) I prefer masked man singing. or (b) maybe singing animals were a tad more interesting or..(c) just maybe, I wasn't french enough to understand the miserable-ness of it all..

That love affair

I was lucky to catch "The Proposal" by Sandra Bullock and Ryan Reynolds last night. The night before Monday blues catch up. I had to make 3 rain checks with the Engineer before we finally could fit each other into our busy schedule to make time for a little catch up and movie date. As the weekend had been a saga of tumultuous shifts for the Date, I decided to heck with the Date and found a replacement in the Engineer. Its not healthy to sit at home during the weekends and feel sorry for your state of misery.

I would give two thumbs up for "The Proposal" which is a funny movie threaded with romance. Sandra Bullock played Margaret Tate, a highflyer, pushy and devilish editor with Ryan Reynolds, a.k.a. Andrew Paxton as her yes-man secretary who dreams to make it big one day as an editor himself. At the risk of being deported back to Canada when her visa application to stay in the U.S. was rejected, she force her young assistant, Andrew to marry her. He grudgingly accepted it on the condition he will be promoted to editor. To sell their lie to the immigrations, both flew to Alaska to spend the weekend with Andrew's family whom Andrew has not seen for 3 years. The uphill tasks to keep up their charade and a series of comedic situation after situation eventually saw the two falling in love. I won't spoil the story for you guys who have not catch this movie and for those who already have, I am sure you will agree with me that this is one quirky movie that sends us scurrying for a tissue or two at the unexpected twist and turns.

I like to think that my love story with the Astronomist had spark in a remote place like Sitka (Alaska, baby!) where we have to endure horrendous long bumpy rides to get there and have our breath taken away by the scenery. Unfortunately, such fairytale romance is only a barethread scene in hollywood. For a poor peasant like me with no luck of being close to getting on the next plane to Alaska, I had to settle with someone who brought me to a place where I discovered, the best in me.

I still remember vividly the ride on the London eye where he astounded me with the panaromical view of London city and captivated my heart with the twinkling lights of Christmas joy. It will always etch in memory those little trips to the SPCA and the Great Osmond Children's Hospital where he was attached to. He opened my eyes to the things unseen and my heart to a love so true. Taught me more than I ever had. Showed me what love was truly about. Enveloped me in his embrace and removed the cacaphony of hustle and bustle of life from mine. Ride in silence with me and listen to the things unspoken. Endure my endless ramblings and never-ending expostulations. my pillar of strength. my rhapsody of a man. my foreign affair.

Its been awhile now since I last saw you, Andy. Watching the Proposal inspired me to force you to marry me so i can stay in england jolt my semantic memory to recall that time we say our goodbyes in Heathrow (not that you proposed and I am not implying that you should have). It was at that brief moment that caught my heart to discover that when two people fall in love, it can sometimes happen in the most unexpected way. It is a defining moment that has settled into the pieces of my heart.

Trying to say goodbye

Life has became a blur of mediocrity and chasing deadlines. I was driving home the other day and I felt a wave of sadness washed over me. That wave left a salty trail in my heart and stained my cheeks. Nobody's sees the heartache that I cannot bring words to describe. That deep sense of longing to be complete. Its been awhile now, I have noticed but denied, my eyes never twinkle like it used to, the laughter ring empty and the tears never stop coming. There is so much I have yet to say and still wanna say to him since that day at Tullamarine. So much mendacity I have yet to unearth and spill...prayers that have yet to be answered.

I tried too hard to make it all go away in a flash. I pressed on a speedy recovery as Munchkin said. I miss you more each day and at each passing silence, I wonder, where did I go wrong? The song, 'Home' by Michael Buble plays in my head on a rewind. The very song you sang to me when you were away from me. You sang that may be you are surrounded by a million people yet you still feel all alone and you just wanna come home because you miss me. You knew why I couldn't go along with you because it was not my dream but I always believe in you..and you know that, right till that day. The texts you sent me, the emails you wrote and the phone calls you made...I just wish it never stop.

Nothing has been right since. Nothing feels right. Its knowing there will be no ducky voice to console me over the phone at 2 in the morning when I am upset. Its losing the essence of you. The jokes you make, the silly things we fight about, the tickles, the kissing through the phone, the tantrums, the whole 5 years of memories - gone. We shared a life albeit far.

Question is, what made you give up? Why didn't you wait like you promise? The dreams we shared, why did you have to shatter them?

When did it all happen and I didn't know...until you were gone...

Why is it so hard to say goodbye to us and to you? Why did it get so complicated? Why the lies, the tears and the pain...you could've tried and kept to your words..no more lies, just no more.

You did not need a 2nd chance....all you need is an atonement that will never come..and all I need is a little more faith that the details in the fabric of our relationship will fade out

To June, with love

Last June, the astronomist asked if I will miss him when he returns home to the States for summer, I shrugged, closed my eyes and walked away, whispering, "so much". He ran up beside me, sling his arms across my shoulders while we continue walking down towards the monument quietly enjoying the morning sun. I thought 'I can handle this, he being away and me staying for summer'. I let me eyes meet his crisply iron shirt while inhaling in the fresh lemony wash on it.

It was an awkward silence, both not knowing what to say and skeptical to say anything. It is always interesting hanging out with the astronomist but that day was a little different. I just held on to my womanly instinct to let the moment hang in the air like it is. For whatever reason it felt good to have someone just being there by your side while the world around you zoomed by, yet the silence was nudging at our hearts. He escorted me to the bus stop and our silence bubble was popped with sheepish smiles. He wrapped his arms around me, embracing me tightly. I just let myself snuggle in those arms. I felt him leaning to smell my freshly washed hair and mumbled in between of hair stuffed in his mouth, "summer came too early."

My public ride came and we heard our souls whimpered at it. I missed him terribly that summer he was away but with every separation comes a realisation. A dawning and a discovery of your heart's song. Last week, I received a present with a card that says, "I love everything about June". He sure knows how to strum the strings of my heart....

Let Him take the Reins

A year ago, it should and could have been the most wonderful time of the year. looking forward to graduation, finally leaving behind years of slogging away in law school, a step closer to achieving a life long dream, a flight away from that 6 figure salary, and a leap of faith to a wonderous ending in long distance relationships. With a big bang twist of fate, not only I had to watch each of those being taken away from me one by one, I also had to walk on each shrapnels of those exploding dreams. i always thought i had it all, you name it, i got it. it was just all to surreal to be true but yet baby, it was happening to me. sometimes, being the placid, get-along-with-everybody and the i-had-it-all person robs me the opportunites to show grace and allow God to deal with others.

I had more questions than answers. I had sense in my head that seemed like nonsense to my heart. As children bring their broken toys wih tears for us to mend, i brought my broken dreams to God because He is my friend. But then instead of leaving Him at peace to work alone, I hung around and tried to help with ways that were my own. I pace up and down, peered into it and at last snatched them back and cried, "How can you be so slow?". "My child," He said, "What could I do..you never did let go."

It goes without saying that words leave a scar deeper than a sword. I would love to go to Him and say, Fix me. I've got an hour. Unfortunately, no pill or prayer can work that way. We all try very hard to keep watch of our image so as not to let it ruin our reputation. However, no matter how hard we try to clothe the wolf in fleas fleece, it can never be a sheep. It is the inside that counts. truly. what if, there is no daintiness and sophistication to start of with? so what's there to really keep you in sync to speak 'properly' and be civilised? A person who doesn't have character protecting his talent shatter dreams, hurt people and lose possibilities. No matter how brilliant a man may be, how gently they try to speak, how smart he is dressed up in, if his character is flawed, his words will still breed distrust no matter how gentle and everything he does will be perceived as manupulative.

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So, where am i to begin? I chillax with Him. I sit back and file my nails watch him mould my character and fix my dreams. I give him time and be patience myself. Let Him do his Jedi-trick-magic. what a man is, survives him and that is what make a lasting difference.

kind words won't come cascading out of your mouth like a waterfall until your heart is a wellspring of kindness. Unsafe people has a heart that is build up with a core of selfishness. It tends to put its own interest and its own feelings before others. So, some speak what their heart feels. Horrible, but who cares? Betrayal is the iceberg that sinks friendship. But yet, like they care. As long as it doesn't sink their life. that's how unsafe people operate. they are a little like the stepford's people. perfect on the outside but lacking empathy on the inside.

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When you chillax with God, you must know how to just sit back and watch. It is like a friday night with God, eating popcorns and watching a film on tv. as much as you want to punch the guy who cheated on his girlfriend, you know God is sitting there beside you, watching too. Let Him take rein of the remote control and switch channels for you. You just got to stop jumping up and down the sofa and watch Yoda saber off the tongues unsafe people OUT of your life.

Forgive me for my nonsense, as I also forgive the nonsense of those that think they talk sense.

Our Last Summer

Munchkin, as promised, our last summer - 21/6/2008

The summer air was soft and warm
The feeling right, the Newcastle night
Did its best to please us

And strolling down the Northumberland

We had a drink in each cafe

And you You talked of politics, philosophy and

I Smiled like Mona Lisa

We had our chance

It was a fine and true romance

I can still recall our last summer
I still see it all
Walks along the Tyne, laughing in the rain
Our last summer
Memories that remain
We made our way along the Tyne

And we sat down in the grass

By the Newcastle tower

I was so happy we had met

It was the age of no regret

Oh yes

Those crazy years,

that was the time

Of the flower-power

But underneath we had a fear of flying

Of getting old, a fear of slowly dying

We took the chance Like we were dancing our last dance

I can still recall our last summer

I still see it all
In the tourist jam,

round the River Bend

Our last summer
Walking hand in hand
Newcastle restaurants

Our last summer Morning croissants

Living for the day, worries far away

Our last summer

We could laugh and play

And now you're working as a scientist

The man that I miss, a violinist

And your name is Munchkin
How dull it seems
Yet you're the hero of my dream

In pursuit of happiness

Happiness is only true when its shared.

The banker asked me last night over dinner and juices whether I am all ready for a new defined relationship if the time was propitious. Over the sugar rush, I would think what he meant was, am I finally geared for some stability in life and all suited up to take the leap of faith - he also crudely pointed out that my eggs were near to expiry and my biological clock must be ticking insanely by now.

My needs and expectations has evolved through time. When I stand from a higher ground and see my life from a different angle, through less myopic lens, I realised, how small circle I have based my life around that I have never seen and even try to explore beyond the lines. with more clarity, I can only hope that I have gathered more courage to do things at a heartbeat, hesitate less, compromise a little more than I used to and be less reserved to go after what I want. I can see myself handling failures better, continue fervently to achieve my goals, and not falter at the first beat of difficulty or when I slip from my rhythmic pattern. Having the confidence is different from knowing that I am intelligent, well-educated and all-rounded. It grinds deeper. It is in knowing that storms are not to weather us down but for us to soar above the clouds. It is knowing that the right choices to make, the moral high ground to take, and how to calculate the next step in life.

My persiflage and repartee must have been soporific to the Banker because in no due time have I embarked on sharing my 20 minutes of intelligent conversation albeit high-projectile saliva spitting, he started to talk about his visit to the dermatologist. He has long considered the condition of his skin to be less than satisfactory - too huge a pore, too red a nose and too putsalated around the T-zone. Granted he could have suggested to the char koay teow seller to use the oil on his face in replacement of cooking oil.

He has lost confidence in facial and creams. They are too slow a remedy and resulting to an accumulation of debt. Thus he finally resorted to see a dermatologist who, much to the banker's horror and insult, couldn't identify what the banker's huge fuss was about his skin. To the dermatologist, it seemed alright. skin that best belongs to any homosapien. Apparently so claimed by the Banker, the patient who went in before him had blotchy skin and colour discolouration. sounded alien to me. I guess martians have also found the need to have alabaster skin and green is no longer in fashion as skin colour. For the next hour and over 2 cups of juices, we squabble and laugh about his skin, the condition of it and the myriad ways he had tried to achieve skin like a baby's bottom.

In 3 hours, we flooded our bladder and ran our salivary gland dry. sharing the ups and downs of life. Letting go of our inhibitions in our state of sugar rush. Who said we need alcohol to make us inebriate for silly anecdotes. No one told you that sugar does the same trick too? two boisterous college mates who have grown up together and mature through time, catching up on the loss times, the forgotten joy and fulfilling the longing of genuine companionship. The cherry on top of all these is having the sea splashing it waves behind us and the gentle wind blowing our worries away. In my years of pursuit of happiness, I never thought of sharing it. Reminiscing on that night, I now know - it feels good to share your happiness.

The things unspoken

Dear Diary

I miss the equanimity of a starry starry night that paints the sky palettes blue and grey. I covet for a summer's day with eyes that know the darkness of my soul. To be with you to catch the breeze and winter chills. Now I understand what you have been trying to tell me in that 2 years. A wave of sadness crash on me. An understanding that came too late. The daffodils that dance freely in the green fields now seem to be such a distance memory. There is so much I want to say, so much that is left to share. As days go by and issues go unaddressed, gaping holes developed and slowly I feel I am no longer here nor there anymore. No longer wanting to be part of your life but yet I am intrusive as to 'what if'. A longing that once dominated my desires. A longing that has come to pass.

Your jeremiad ring sonorously in my ears clearly "I am tired of chasing your shadows. I am drained. Knackered from this endless wait for a propitious season. The winding excuse of 'I am not ready'. Your asperity of tantrums. tarty moods. I am afterall expandable in your vocabulary." Funny how that its all coming back to me. Now I'm listening. ruminating and digesting your word for its prima facie meaning. How could I miss it? You kept your sanity, your weathered face lined with pain. For I could not love you but yet your love was true. the lies crushed and broken on the snowy slate of our love story. Like crushed rose petals sprinkled over clean sheets. and now I think I know what you tried to say to me.

There will always be someone in our life whom we once love and always will love. Whose memories with us stay close to our hearts. Whose faces we can still draw out in our dreams. whose warmth of lips you can still feel. Whose eyes still burn in our souls. The one you will never be ready to forget, never ready to smooth all the pain, never willing to throw out the momentos. D, you were right. I never gave you a chance. I never open up for you. After 3 years, I know so little about you albeit our long chats and miles of journey together. A relationship that lack versimilitude. My insouciance towards your feelings and most of all your caring nature I can never compare to. I fell in love too late with you. When I was finally ready...you already left. Now I am chasing your shadows and wishing that I have one more chance to make things right.

Love, J

Wednesday Ramblings

My ebullient nature fell like leaves during autumn time. My obsession with the pass reflects in my incessant return to the same few themes, scenarios and questions; mine meticulous examination and re-examination of banal minutiae for hidden meanings that simply aren't there; like cancer, it has its way like how an idee fixe usurp other important organs of function. this obsession is a mental exhaustion that threatens to black out my life -- is that it is confining, not rebellious, and not fascinating but maddeningly dull.

The french screams merde when they can't orgasm after 20 minutes of thrusting. I feel like an exemplar of someone drowning in a sewage of merde. After 1 year of thrusting, the vaginal stays in a dry spell. No succor seems to be available to rescue me from the dry spell or any e.coli infection from all the thrusting in a sewage system.

No cadging for the past 366 days seems to work. There seems to be no light to my black hole of abulia, feeling feckish by each slow thrust, numbed. Oh man, this is eating my up.

Dear dairy, will i lose my raillery one day with this draught of sagacity? what do you think can mollify me? A taste of some Michelangelo paintings in Italy or perhaps a rendezvous of the sex museum in Paris? A walk down the Thames in London or to catch a picturesque aplenglow in Switzerland again? Maybe feed some kangaroos in Australia or walk till corn sprouts on my feet in Hong Kong?

Its time the public who call themselves my friends start showing some generosity to my Disneyland fund. I should start writing emails to them, highlighting my plight and destitute life. I must do something to precipate my trip to Disneyland...sell my collection of adult toys, write some adult novels and direct some adult films. anything adult to fulfill my childhood dreams. Life is a box full of chocolates. Currently I am chewing on the dark ones. Bitter and I am beginning to long for the raisin filled saccharine ones

Breakfast Thoughts

I'm positive that every thought that's popped into my head and every epiphany or conclusion that I've arrived at has been come to by someone else during the course of time. Sometime or somewhere in the span of the cosmos someone has looked up into the same night sky and pondered the same questions and arrived at the same conclusions. It doesn't dawn on us that we are actually looking at the same bright sky no matter where in the world we may be. While societies and circumstances are different the important questions never change.

Why are we here? Who am I?

And why do we treat each other the way we do?

It is amazing how the human race could have survived for so long and never have learned anything from each other. The common adage is to avoid learning the lesson the hard way if we can so choose it. But really no lesson can be truely learned unless it was hard, unless it was experienced - firsthand. Humans are pitiful short-lived creatures; it is a shame that we cannot continue our dreams during the prime of our developement or at least pass on the knowledge we've collected. Just when you've got things figured out life changes and fucks you where it hurts the most.

But then again maybe it is because of our constraints that we achieve so far. We take what brief time we are granted and borrow/steal what we can get to squeeze out every last drop of precious opportunity. Each and every one of us needs to experience the lessons of life ourselves, firsthand - the hard way. We may want and we may try but the lessons never pass on. It is through this strange and torturous proccess that our truths today are more true than than they were yesterday - because each succeeding generation has been forced to find them ourselves and refilter everything untill we are closer to perfection.