A good-friend-turned-colleague is a rare find.
You find lunchtime a scary affair, afraid of the noise you may find yourself churning out when timid mouse becomes you whilst you play the role of the office rat during working hours. Make that - Very Afraid.
We irritate each other with dubious visitations. And random emails.

Me disturbing her:

“wherefore art thou climbing thy dwellingcase with thy beloved shaslinda?

thy deluge of language upon such as myself hast caused thy beloved to macam become confused liddat.

methinks my language abilities suddenly not very pro.
need a walking-a-thon break.”

And she goes..

Her infamous ode to Today-The-Last-Friday-Of-The-Year-So-It’s-Pig-Out-Day:

“Oh chocolat chocolat
Wherefore art thou tres delicieux
Deny thy tummy and refuse thy gluttony
Or if thou wilt not,
Be but sworn my love
And I'll no longer be a detox wannabe.”

When is enough ever enough? When the simple things in life eludes one, you start wishing for a simpler existence.

***

Stranger than Fiction

***

Strife is an ugly emotion.
It leaves one drained and robs one of all the ‘what-ifs’ of beautiful rainbows, psychedelic mentalscape and,feel-good-lovelove walks on one’s emotional tight-rope.

***

The School of Hard Knocks.
Some live to avoid it so much that every action, thought and emotion is predicated on Major Avoidance through a series of Disciplined Follow-Up of the turnings of one’s life. Everything has to have a logical conclusion. How boring. Chance has no hand. Free Will is an evil component. Inevitability is the order of the day – Logical Mental Theoreticizing becomes the core guide to one’s life ethos. Pride in one’s seeming acumen to project the future has only one outflow - the Projection of that exact personal vision upon others. Is that fair? It reeks of condescension.

***

Pre-emptive measures can be wise. But pre-emptive theoreticizing rooted in fear, paranoia and insecurity can be equally as destructive. There is only so much that you can pre-empt. Why and when do people start controlling the elements of their life? The answer lies in a certain fear of Something. Every action becomes calculated, every emotion in tandem with that calculated pre-judgement. There is no progression. There is no freedom in spontaneity, in second chances, in new beginnings, in breathing in new life.

Memory becomes a cursed Doppelganger, an unwelcomed yet equally non-intrusive entity, an insidious joy-killer.

Live.

***

Oh, the good life, full of fun seems to be the ideal
Mm, the good life lets you hide all the sadness you feel
You won't really fall in love for you can't take the chance
So please be honest with yourself, don't try to fake romance

It's the good life to be free and explore the unknown
Like the heartaches when you learn you must face them alone
Please remember I still want you, and in case you wonder why
Well, just wake up, kiss the good life goodbye

***

Trying your best suddenly becomes redundant. Efforts get foiled with a singular cutting look, a calculated graze in someone's heart meant to 'teach one a lesson'. In that concept of warped 'Lesson Provision', it may benefit some those who plug into such a militaristic school-of-thought. However, the free-spirited often just get pierced.


A smile is a curved line that sets things straight.

Christmas is coming. I love the magical feeling. Something’s in the air, undoubtedly it is that festive air. The human mind transposes its own explanations, finds continuity in the present circumstances and deciphers its own understanding of it. I, choose to call it, Magic.

I asked God for favour last night while walking back to my rented place. It seems that my heart has been touched countless times ever since dusk, as of yesterday.

Im happiest as a lark, seeing the look on his face. Lit up. Glowing full of love.

Then in the morning, a colleague of mine gave me a Christmas present. Someone else said ‘take care of yourself’ and ‘don’t be too overworked’ knowing that most would be taking off next week and ive to finish up some stuff, and to top that up, she gave me her chocolates (im a sucker for chocs, its really my only weakness to more saturated fats coming my way this Christmas). Then my fav sliced fish stall auntie gave me an agar-agar (cos i think she ke-lian I don’t quite eat rice) (and I saw that it was her personal agar-agar)! Then jasminder made for me this cool S-shaped paper machete.

Im gonna watch the Christmas musical later on in town. I miss them. I saw passing slogans on vehicles saying that ‘He’s the Wonderful Counsellor, Prince of Peace’… in short, I want to remember that God is good, loving and all the simple truths which can light up a starved heart. A heart like a child’s. Will you protect me from the cold harsh practical realities of life?

All I want is a room somewhere
Far away from the cold night air
With one enormous chair
Oh, wouldn't it be lovely?

Lots of chocolate for me to eat
Lots of coal making lots of heat
Warm face, warm hands, warm feet
Oh, wouldn't it be lovely?

Oh so lovely sitting abso-bloomin'-lutely still
I would never budge till Spring crept over the window sill

Someone's head resting on my knee
Warm and tender as she can be
Who takes good care of me
Oh, wouldn't it be lovely ?

Who takes good care of me
Oh, wouldn't it be lovely?


I thought living out of a suitcase would be easy. I thought that the axis of the world would continue to orbit as long as I simulated the past life’s version of a sanctuary. I thought that navigating through this shit would be all-righteable as long as I was settled with a roof over my head. But long are the nights. I thought I could push and shut everything out. But I can’t. I keep thinking and crying. I miss them so much. I rather be out there with the crowd than to be back at an unfamiliar place. I feel very displaced trying to suit my ways to someone unfamiliar. Sometimes I stay back at the office to push off being alone back my place. Its supposed to be home. But can you ever simulate your own version of Home without the necessary people in it? I have dinners outside, or I go shopping, Im even thinking of movies or keeping myself with my familiar libraries than to be in a simulated version of Home. I didn’t know it would turn out to be a farce. Its supposed to be a place where I rest. Where I rest my soul. But sometimes I stay back in the office and stoning doing work with my worship songs and That is Home. simple. But home at that place where you try so hard to make it one doesn’t work. Unfamiliarity. I don’t adapt very well do i? for once, this baffles me. I thought I’ve always been a master in adapting. Adept In Adapting. Pain.

Draw me to my knees
So we can talk
Let me feel Your breath
Let me know You're here with me

i get moments like these - i'm walking along a semblance of the ideal place in my mind and reality gets displaced. the rush of morning air, the rising sun warming the earth after a long-drawn shower. i think of china. i think boy i need a holiday real bad its been long overdue. i think of january, the end of the deluge that's been hitting the region, and the extra bit of cash i have left after settling the rent, my nus loans and whatever necessities i need to pay off first. i think of my virgin pilgrimage of sorts to bangkok china kl koh phangan/samui, somewhere plausible.

i think that 'rigor mortis' has blocked my heart to write any piece relevant enough to be deemed wonderful and i wonder why my writing ceases to map itself to the longings of my heart. i think back on my entry in 2004 on my old blog, and it seems that deja vu has found its intimate friend in its past.


"The FlyFreeBird
i really feel like disappearing.

to somewhere away from everyone familiar, it'd be good if the place i'd fulfil my death-wish (again, this term is purely metaphorical, only known fully to me), kill myself, numb my emotions, develop healing powers and go through an intense process of rebirth. whatever's happening now (it is not purely situational/circumstantial, but encompasses multiple aspects : the emotional, the spiritual and the Blah..) - i need a distancing away from this ragged self.

i could honestly do a Bali/Tioman-sorta getaway if i had enough money. i wouldnt tell anyone at all, it'll be my own little secret. and yes, i would go there alone. i'd book my own three-star hut, look up all the varying ways of transportation, bring lotsa books, my swimming costume (no bikinis on foreign islands), sunblock and shades, my trusty little notebook to map out the rebirth of my soul, absolutely no makeup so as to remain ugly and not attract attention of local men there who would disturb this very great peace that i so desire, a paper pad so that i can write to my beloved friends about the little bits and scraps of insight/epiphanies that i have gained on this solitary tour, develop a sense of lightheartedness, humour and a carefree spirit by the end of the week and notice a fellow male traveller who is also on his solitary pilgrimage to higher states of being and we would talk, debate, enlighten ourselves on each other's various life-stories, indulge in politics, religion, literature, good films, human dynamics, music that soothe our souls and we would talk and talk in between two to three successive moonlights and maybe we would hold hands and lie on each other's shoulders because of the superb connection that we have established. but this is where i toe my line and this is my individual pilgrimage and with my newly acquired sense of humour and non-seriousness, i would say, thank you for sharing a part of yourselves and adding a sweet measure of your soul to myself but i must get back to myself and this level of reality is only temporal and unique to this period of time and place and this part of myself that you have come to know would cease to exist and my other selves which belong to my beloved friends and family back home has to resurface and realign itself once again. and if i should not meet a fellow traveller to indulge in once the week is over and my social self feels the need to re-emerge, i would rely on my individual resources to have imaginary conversations with myself and with the One Above and maybe buy a discman and listen to all that jazz and dance at night along the beach barefooted alone and develop a child-like inner poetic spirit and be daring and brave to pass quoted poems to fellow hut/hotel neighbours during dinner (by the beach, the sort where they'll barbecue for you on the spot whilst you take in the sea breeze) and i would recommend them my favorite poets and poems and writers with phrases that would stab right into their hearts (oh, i would approach only solitary beings. no families, no couples. only like-minded/situational souls) and if they resist conversation, i would go away still knowing that its a Pay-It-Forward World. then after two weeks, i'd return home, call up my friends for the individual dinner dates and allow them to delve through the many individuals i've met, and if none, allow them to see that i've re-emerged a much happier soul with the various new perspectives and understandings that i've acquired. and in the midst of the confines of my own sanctuary, say to myself, you've done good sha, for the experience lies in the very depths of my being and i know that i can go on to higher heights of adventures in life, that i will wait for no one to see me through the things i very much wish to accomplish, that change is ever-possible if you're ever stuck in a rut. like now.

i could really do with a Flyfreebird.
its wonderful where the human mind can take us.
the powers of our imagination is indeed able to provide the sort of ekstasis that you desire to transport you to another realm.
the physical reality and the imagination, once it is allowed a symbiotic relationship, one propelling the other to greater heights, can do your wonders in your life."

Posted on 22.11.2004 at 4:16 AM

Work-Play Balance

A montage plays in my mind's eye as i listen to Tanto Tiempo by Axel Krygier. The world beckons to me in all its fragmented ways, realities and lives. I play the the lizard's repose - the chameleon blending in the background, watching everything about me whirl about in its complex, chaotic interplay.The only way to save my own skin without getting caught up with yet I didnt know how. It's been a difficult three months. My coping methods baffle many, especially those closest to me. Communal grieving processes frighten me so. I am not comfortable wearing Emotion close to my skin.

The only way to cope, growing up, was to pretend Nothing Bad exists. The room becomes one's sanctuary. The shoutings, the cussing, her helplessness, his loneliness - we grew up showing the world it was fine and dandy, no emotional lashing could touch us. And only then did it become reality for us - we seeked the creation of an alternate reality in the midst of the hovering Big Bang.

In my own solitary moments i let out - the pain, estrangement, loss, seething anger, shame. Many were afraid to leave me alone - they project their easy fears of me sinking into depression, estimating their own 'normal' reactions to situations such as mine. Some chided me for being alone, suspicious that i cried myself to death. Crowd me and I play the part of the rising phoenix that rises from its ashes. I've burnt myself, time and time again, as well as many around me. People making decisions for me, pressurizing me by projecting the direction of my life from that incident on.

The Rebirth. Judgement came upon me as I withdrew. I started to suspect that there must indeed be a method to this madness. Suspecting that people followed the ethos that there is a method to God. Is there and should there be one? Must I be someone holy, make something of myself before i am allowed that open line to God? Do the confused, heartbroken and mortal who knows the only way to cope is to be left alone and who doesnt want humans to deal and proffer advice in proxy, in askance for the only one who will be able to address these inner issues, be denied and deemed unworthy of God? In being mortal, and in being utterly scared - the refrain of Freedom in Him and Let the Joy of the Lord be your Strength sounds empty. I am veryveryvery mortal-ed. I find myself reassessing the meaning of such statements, letting them be My Reality. Wondering again in light of everything what That means.

Practical issues strike me first nowadays. I am not as carefree as i used to be. Worrywort fart becomes me. 'Give it all to God' -- okay. But how to give it all when i get the suspicion that there is a method to Him?

I want to rebond my hair. I want a camera. But i havent even washed my bedsheets to settle down in. I have clothes strewn all over. I havent even bought my duvet cover.I have moved out, in, out, in, out and now in again, finally. The Return To Normalcy. All in 3 fine months. Deal with that, and I am left physically tired and emotionally drained. But the tides' gone, and I am settling in. I love the new place despite a ngiau flatmate. My dream place actually, across the beach and opposite the library. When i viewed this place, she said ' I hope you have peace once you're here' and she actually told me, after i finally revealed to her my situation, that she wanted to let me go because Malay = Muslim but something prompted her into feeling that this house was a refuge for me. The wonderful thing was, after viewing her place that time, for once there was a peace in my heart and i accepted it straightaway. In such instances, God reveals Himself i am so thankful for even tho i am mere mortal. I was getting very very down because I have viewed likek close to 10-12 places and having to juggle work, people and the turmoil shit.

Work has been a stabilising factor - the comfort of a routine, pretending the lives people lead are normal and basking in that normalcy. The Math titles are driving me crazy but the cycle's coming to an end and i think they're gonna heap upon me the science and humanities titles, which i am glad for. I enjoy this job a lot :)

She's been in hospital for a faint and i cant even see her. The calls to the workplace have ceased. Last i heard, he has aggressive depression. I think the _ has a gf now and i am glad for that companionship that he seeks cos she seems like a nice girl. I dont' talk much about j. but i can't help but think that this boy is a delight at the end of the day, even tho' ive initiated countless breakups with him. we have gone thru so much shit sometimes we dont even know where to start dissecting but im hoping this phoenix doesn't continue to burn any longer.

Christmas. I remember last Christmas. Always with the Calvarites, dinners made with love at Ps Daph's. To date, this will be my third real Christmas.

I set up a Christmas tree for him. He loves it i know :) I am coming out of the hellhole and reclusivity. I am beginning to smile more often. There is a delight in my heart. I still miss. but i know that all is well. I am beginning to allow myself to be more transparent with those closer to me, to depend on them a bit more instead of pushing them aside. It's very simple - I want to be purely happy. I havent had that untainted joy for a very long time. I don't want to be overwhelmed anymore by the practical issues of life cos i dont do that very well, the whole handling of practical issues.

Love After Love

The time will come
when, with elation
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror
and each will smile at the other's welcome,

and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you

all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,

the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.

~ Derek Walcott