It's 2 in the morning

And the tears are pouring and I want to make worth the night...

Ahem. Nice improvisation ..no?

Having completed one part of my project, I had the pleasure of reading Joan Lau's "Labels, layabouts and those ladies who lunch".

I must say she beat me to it. No. Not claiming the first rights to discussing this topic, but I had wanted to blog about people and judgements, and pigeon-holing people, after a nice quiet dinner at a popular bistro in Bangsar before I had a chance to read Lau's piece.

My dinner mate and I watched a group of ladies enjoying a bottle of champagne and we echoed similar thoughts of not belonging in that restaurant. We watched more diners stroll in, kissing on cheeks to greet and loud giggles that originated from a lady that clearly did not mind others listening on her chatter.

I thought to myself, why are these people so pretentious, or what seemed to be like pretension as least from the way I understood it. Could I have been able to laugh dramatically over petty dinner conversation or could I wear that slinky little black dress to draw attention, admiration or gossip.

I thought I couldn't. I immediately "boxed" these people in stereotypes that I have in my head. The girls drinking champagne probably are not paying for it out of their own pockets, the loud chatter is sounds of dramatic, flamboyancy that could very well be shelved for a quiet nite and the slinky black dress was fit into after weeks of dieting on super shakes and water. (ow)

Upon reading Lau's article, I must say it made me catch my breath. I am quick to dislike those who stereotype me, my gender, profession and choice of music, but I am so equally quick to stereotype others in perceptions I have conditioned myself to believe in.

Is this fair? My bumper sticker has the saying to the effect of treating others as you would like to be treated (It is 2.30 in the morning and I can't for the life of me remember it's exact words).

Would I want to be treated the same way I treated those champagne drinking girlfriends.. or be scorned for looking attractive in the slinky black dress.

I guess not. I suppose you would not to..:)

More interesting finds..

"On the mountains of truth you can never climb in vain: either you will reach a point higher up today, or you will be training your powers so that you will be able to climb higher tomorrow" ~ Friedrich Nietzsche

Digressing

I love my circle of friends.
I love how I learn almost each moment I'm with them. Phrases, ideas and kinky concepts thrown in for giggles.
First, I decide to list new words I've learn during a 3 hour drink and laughing session.

1. Cadaver
Meaning:-
a dead body, esp. a human body to be dissected; corpse.
(Interestingly enough... this is different from that night's conversation)

2. Bi-curious
Meaning:-
Someone who is bi-curious does not identify as bisexual, but usually identify as heterosexual or homosexual, in most cases as a heterosexual person, and are curious about having sexual intercourse with the opposite gender that they state their preference as.

3. Inebriated
Meaning:-
an intoxicated person, a habitual drunkard.

4. Genuine
Meaning:-
possessing the claimed or attributed character, quality, or origin; not counterfeit; authentic; real
(I already know the meaning of this one, but apparently Scrabble lets you score 50 bonus points if you finish your tiles! I have been living in the dark ages for too long now)

5. And.. something to do with peanuts.....hic.

*Source: http://www.dictionary.com, Wikipedia

Time

is really a precious commodity. I didn't realise seven years or more flew by. As I put away the bottle of vodka, the dead plant and the dictionaries (I am still missing a calculator), I reflect on the stories behind the paraphernalia that clutter my journalist table.

I had prayed for change long hard over the last year and it is here at my doorstep.
Somewhat hard to believe, perhaps I have been living in a surreal phase in the last four days that I finally made the decisions that I made. Somehow when change is imminent, it feels a little more awkward to embrace.

Cold feet? Some might say. But if change is needed for rebirth and a recharge, change is what I have to embrace.

So many chapters have gone by, some closed, one nearing closed and others to open. Exciting, no?

Somehow with this open canvas I have in front of me, I am excited and nervous at the same time to hold the different paint colours to start fresh.

I need to calm down.

I don't like

being here when I'm upset. Or if I do end up here upset it's usually disguised.

I often tell myself that being thick-skinned is both an advantage and occupational hazard. But for once, I couldn't.

Frankly, I don't get why judgements are so important for people to feel secure about themselves. Assessing, grading, benchmarking, surely there is a point to the whole process? No?

Decisions are hard to make in the first place, but petty judging is worse. For a long time I have not been bothered with other's opinions about my choices, senses, decisions and taste for cheap cigarettes.

Inhale, they say, inhale the good and exhale the bad.

I suppose in one way, reacting often stoops me low as those who petty judge, who assess my abilities and even gender. Yea, the weakness of my gender. No?

In the meantime, I'm going to hunt down the person that stole my calculator at work. Pftth.

I know..

I should be sleeping at this hour, seeing how the bloodshot eyes looked right back at me at the mirror earlier. .

But, I needed a distraction and found a common theme amidst inspecting my wardrobe earlier.

I really need to get new pants. And several pairs at that, mind you.

Other than the one that has a hole from a manhole fall, (it wasn't my fault, the manhole should not have been there in the first place), the rest also suffer from some sort of defect.

After close inspection, I realise that these pants, some as old as 8 years, needed to be replaced or ragged. Other than the usual wear and tear (one of it had to be ragged due to a bad fall after chasing the former Transport Minister on 3 inch heels.. yes, I know, journalists do NOT wear heels, but I was such a greenie then), the one common feature was the wear at the side of the left leg due to the constant contact with my strap(on, ahem) laptop bag.

Anyway.

I don't know if it is about maintenance or the lack of it in my life, or some could even say the lack of care for appearances. I don't know, maybe I'm not big on appearances or maybe I selectively care for whatever hangs in my closet. I swear, if not for that spring cleaning imposed by the lady of the house, there would be alot more (90s) gems in there that could be pulled out for today's wear.

I guess, my point is that, there are days when there are bigger issues to contend with and there are days when the RM148 hairdryer purchased from KK meant so much to me. Ok, ok, the two BCBG dresses at a 50% discount were also a steal. :)

Things are about to change, I believe, and it's not about having new sets of pants in my wardrobe.

And, I must admit here in this space, finding the courage to push oneself further is one of the tougher challenges anyone had to go through. I figured, if I can keep at it, I can really work on life's aspects closer to my heart. Focus, clarity and patience. Patience is the one I lack most.

Pants to patience.

Something worthwhile to consider.

Murphy's Law

When life hands you lemons. You have tequila shots. (pffth)


Updates soon.

Err with Endorphins...

There are some days you wish people would pay attention to you.
There are days you wish you could hide in a hole and disappear.

And there are days that you do not realise how MANY people are watching you.
And you did wish that you were not being watched and could hide in a hole and disappear.

Monkey see, monkey do, right?

I decided not to wear my overpriced Lulu Guinness glasses at the gym dance class tonight for fear of perspiration leading to algae growth or worse on these very expensive frames my dearest optometrist friend convinced me to have.

I digress.

I stood at the front of class, being short-sighted, it helps me catch up with the dance moves of the instructor, on the stage. With the class 40 minutes into session, the instructor sits back to watch us, encouraging the class of 30 to get with it.

Being short-sighted in the head as well, led me to execute moves, WrONG moves, into the third verse of the song. Not realising that the class of 30, execute those wrong moves with me.

Fooyoh. Power.

Malu-lah. I had the instructor laughing away, while I attempted to redeem myself by picking up where, I er, left off ala Beyonce.

On a larger context, think of all the influence I can yield and the power.

Rock on.

A fresh breath..

I love the greyish shades, the cheeky undertones and mood of the photograph. Taken of course by skillful and talented, and not too mention gorgeous photographer, to which I owe this set-up to.

I stepped out from this realm for while, like my ethics teacher taught us to, to step back and reflect and cherish. I have to say, today, I am grateful for the quiet nights that I previously disdained.

I learnt a much in that space I took out for myself. Patience, tolerance and gratitude, kindness and the value of friendship.

I toast to a new beginning, a new start and a fresh take on the next chapter than unfolds. I learn to manage expectations, treat tenses with light-heartedness and keep my canvas open.

Taking a time out

Two thoughts came over me this weekend, to shelve this blog. Or to take a time out.

There is much, much work coming in the months ahead. Research, streetwork and moving out of this country.

I will take a time out.

Ringing in my head..

I was feeling depressed last week. Not often I admit it here, usually disguised in some other forms of words.
I know the usual reasons but last week, there was a new element. Death.

I don't deal with it well. Who would. I don't know. I just felt my legs heavier than usual. Plodding along the hours of the day. Felt detached and out of focus. Maybe I was tired too. I don't know. Who knows. But not morbid. Just heavy.

I do want to apologise here to those close to me that had to see this side (again?). I don't mean to snap or to lash or to unload endlessly. I am truly and sincerely sorry if I hurt. I wish I have better outlets. Here. Maybe. I don't want to be complicated. I don't know.

I often associate moods with music or music with moods. I found her again after a decade of not listening to her music.

"Wake Up"

You like snow but only if it's warm
You like rain but only if it's dry
No sentimental value to the rose that fell on your floor
No fundamental excuse for the granted I'm taken for

'Cause it's easy not to
So much easier not to
And what goes around never comes around to you

You like pain but only if it doesn't hurt too much
And you sit...and you wait...to receive
There's an abvious attraction
To the path of least resistance in your life
There's an obvious aversion no amount of my insistance
Could make you try tonight

'Cause it's easy not to
So much easier not to
And what goes around never comes around to you
To you to you to you to you to you...
There's no love no money no thrill anymore

There's an apprehensive naked little trembling boy
With his head in his hands
There's an underestimated and impatient little girl
Raising her hand

But it's easy not to
So much easier not to
And what goes around never comes around to you
To you, to you

get up get up get up off of it
get up get up get up off of it
get out get outta here enough already
get up get up get up off of it
wake up

*Thank you, Alanis Morrissette, Jagged Little Pill

Tears

She gave me a tight hug that evening when I dropped in. I heard her crying when she called me two days before and my heart went out to her. I am a big softie and also a big coward.
Her son survived a bad accident and is recuperating. I pray for his recovery.

I pray too that my grandmother is comfortable. Her 94-year-old frail body should not be pricked with tubes, wound with bandage and tightened with discomfort.

I am not the best granddaughter in the world and I do not know if I would be able handle it when it comes, as I remininsce the times she scolded me for disobeying her or when she effortlessly sorted out my dinner menu during my terrible tantrums.

Is it not human nature to reflect during times like this, I believe so. The long conversations about ex boyfriends and the skeletons in the closet that she revealed to me at the kitchen table.

I cried when I left the hospital one evening thinking about these memories. I suppose again, is it not human to feel?

She was there when I was fooled into believing a stranger, she was there when I was missed the bus home from kindergarten. She walked me home from school and stayed up with me to watch The Love Boat.

I tear. I cry. I want to be there too.

Idle minds ... Idle hands..

I'm not a big fan of waiting, no one is .. One night at a celebration of sorts, the gang grouped up to participate in it. Two hours before the event starts, we had plenty time to goof around.
Scroll for the colours of the night... bwahaha.

It starts with small talk, daydreams and wishes that the food will be served soon..








'


Then some say waiting can make you go mad....








So when two angelic faces pose for candid shots..









The two devils will be up to no good..








* Photos courtesy of candid pixman Yeow Pooi Ling

We interrupt this programme..

*Source: www.wellingtongrey.net

Who you gonna call...

Ghostbusters!

I certainly was tickled pink with that line. For those who remember this series, and theme song, you'd better be chuckling in happy memory or groaning in embarassment (!). I love the movie, cartoon series, song and more importantly, people who remember it with me.

One can always let their hair down, at least once in a while, keep the sanity in them, and what better than to "sing" down memory lane. Some snaps from this moment shared with equally crazy 80s kids... scroll...

But when you think about it, at least for those who remember, if lyrics for catchy songs in the 80s (I grew up with Solid Gold and Top of the Pops, ok) were derived from life moments, pains and giggles rolled into a rhythmic dance or a melancholic croon, then life then (or earlier) is really that simple?

Words and meanings for song sentences didn't sound too complicated, lyrics were sad but not broody, they were fun and straightforward. I am really not thaaaat old, but find that the top hits today are filled with angst, anger, revenge, pain, hurt, bubblegum talk, maybe I read too much or too little into it?

The gyrating hips, the skin, the "I do not care I do as I please" attitude, certainly did not exist during the NKOTB (ahem) days or days when Madonna adorned three layers of clothing in her rendition of "Like a Virgin".

Perhaps there is Darwinian-type theory that can explain this, evolution of songs, evolution of social behaviour, trends, culture and the like.

As much as my peers may disagree, whichever way the trend goes, I still hold dear to.... the running man move, shoulder moves, and jumps that goes with..
The Right Stuff!

(Admit it.... you had the stickers too...:))

*Pictures courtesy of avid photographer, singer and 80's music fan

Day Four

Woke up with a cough today.. *cough* *cough*.

Focus...

noun
1. the concentration of attention or energy on something; "the focus of activity shifted to molecular biology"; "he had no direction in his life"
2. maximum clarity or distinctness of an image rendered by an optical system; "in focus"; "out of focus"
3. maximum clarity or distinctness of an idea; "the controversy brought clearly into focus an important difference of opinion"
4. a central point or locus of an infection in an organism; "the focus of infection"
5. special emphasis attached to something; "the stress was more on accuracy than on speed" [syn: stress]
6. a point of convergence of light (or other radiation) or a point from which it diverges
7. a fixed reference point on the concave side of a conic section

verb
1. direct one's attention on something; "Please focus on your studies and not on your hobbies" [syn: concentrate]
2. cause to converge on or toward a central point; "Focus the light on this image" [ant: blur]
3. bring into focus or alignment; to converge or cause to converge; of ideas or emotions [syn: concenter]
4. become focussed or come into focus; "The light focused" [ant: blur]
5. put (an image) into focus; "Please focus the image; we cannot enjoy the movie" [ant: blear]

WordNet® 3.0, © 2006 by Princeton University.

My current addiction.

For now. 14 hours and counting.

The Empress

You are The Empress

Beauty, happiness, pleasure, success, luxury, dissipation.

The Empress is associated with Venus, the feminine planet, so it represents, beauty, charm, pleasure, luxury, and delight. You may be good at home decorating, art or anything to do with making things beautiful.

The Empress is a creator, be it creation of life, of romance, of art or business. While the Magician is the primal spark, the idea made real, and the High Priestess is the one who gives the idea a form, the Empress is the womb where it gestates and grows till it is ready to be born. This is why her symbol is Venus, goddess of beautiful things as well as love. Even so, the Empress is more Demeter, goddess of abundance, then sensual Venus. She is the giver of Earthly gifts, yet at the same time, she can, in anger withhold, as Demeter did when her daughter, Persephone, was kidnapped. In fury and grief, she kept the Earth barren till her child was returned to her.

What Tarot card are you?

Take the test to find out

Bad beer..

An oxymoron? I think not. It's making me feel sick and I can't sleep.

Help.

Surreal....

Luxurious rooms.... One luxurious room....

Jewellery, clothes, plush bed...

Piano recital.....

Sneakily looking in one luxurious room... Not stealing, just peeking....

Admiring, relishing.....

Photographer.... Luxurious washrooms.....

Kink in manhole...... Toxicity...... Lime and soap....

Two long kisses.....

A piano recital.... full house... White grand piano........


... And I wake up....

Don't you get that feeling?

I cracked up. *LOL*
















*Source: Australian Press Council

Pre-thesis mode...

*Source: Colonialmanormotel.com

Intimidation

noun
1. the act of intimidating a weaker person to make them do something [syn: bullying]
2. the feeling of discouragement in the face of someone's superior fame or wealth or status etc.
3. the feeling of being intimidated; being made to feel afraid or timid
4. a communication that makes you afraid to try something [syn: determent]

WordNet® 3.0, © 2006 by Princeton University.

Current favourite song ..*evil grin*

Before He Cheats, by Carrie Underwood

Right now he's probably slow dancing with a bleach blonde tramp,
and she's probably getting frisky...
right now, he's probably buying her some fruity little drink cause she can't shoot whiskey...
Right now, he's probably up behind her with a pool-stick, showing her how to shoot a combo...
And he don't know...

That I dug my key into the side of his pretty little souped up 4 wheel drive,
carved my name into his leather seats...
I took a Louisville slugger to both headlights,
slashed a hole in all 4 tires...

Maybe next time he'll think before he cheats.

Right now, she's probably up singing some white-trash version of Shania karaoke..
Right now, she's probably saying "I'm drunk" and he's a thinking that he's gonna get lucky,
Right now, he's probably dabbing on 3 dollars worth of that bathroom polo...
And he don't know...

That I dug my key into the side of his pretty little souped up 4 wheel drive, carved my name into his leather seats,
I took a Louisville slugger to both headlights,
slashed a hole in all 4 tires...

Maybe next time he'll think before he cheats.

I might've saved a little trouble for the next girl,
Cause the next time that he cheats...

Oh, you know it won't be on me!

Ohh... not on me...
Cause I dug my key into the side of his pretty little souped up 4 wheel drive, carved my name into his leather seats...
I took a Louisville slugger to both headlights,
slashed a hole in all 4 tires...

Maybe next time he'll think before he cheats.
Ohh.. Maybe next time he'll think before he cheats...
Ohh... before he cheats...

A late night message

I had a late night tinkle on g-talk the other day, from a journalist friend, soon to be former journo, based in Bangalore.
This journalist came online to share a message with friends from all over the world.
Moved by the gesture, I'd like to dedicate the message too, to all those who matter to me.


"One fine day, all of us will get busy with our lives, long working hours, no more meetings, discussions about girls/boys,friends, and no SMS."

"Won't have time for ourselves. On such a day, you will look outside your window and see the good old memories flash by you and you'll smile with a tear in your eyes."

"You will turn back to your work thinking I wish I could go back. To all my friends who helped me in creating such memories...Love You."

Snaps of the moment

This post is drawn from inspiration from Paula Guevara, a Filipino friend I met through Ling.

Reading her posts on random mobile phone images, it amuses and interests the curious to the mind behind the neat gadget.

I thought I'd share my homemade photo album. Enjoys.

*One of the many black and white postcards I collect on my random visits around the world. Picked this up in tiny bookstore, in Soho, London

*At chef & brew, heated debates on wine, men and audition videos.. not necessarily in that order

*On a chilly night in a sidewalk cafe in Bandung


*It's cute, it's hairy. And it doubles up as a CD case. Hedgehog courtesy of Acid.

*And, er,the gallery. For those who know, it is undergoing a revamp. Watch this space!:)

Of coconut trees and flying kites..

Word often go around, a break from routine welcomes freshness to the mind.

Did just that, over weekend in Kota Bharu. Most reactions I had received were looks of puzzlement, surprise and cynicals.. but why?

It is a beautiful town, like all towns in Malaysia, a tad optimistic, na? I think not. I suppose when the mind is a empty slate, colours of the varied kind can be painted upon.

As an urbanite, living with 24 hour stimulation of the technological and monetary kind, I find the slower pace of life a welcome change. I can't say I can live such, but I appreciate it a lot more.

Kota Bharu, not bustling like Kuala Lumpur or Ho Chi Minh, but busy just the same. Different trades, enterprises and colours paint this town. As a state governed by an Islamic based political party, I find that perceptions of outsiders are often influenced(wrongly?) by the different media driven by self-serving agendas.

I found it refreshing, warm and as a senior political writer terms it, outback-ish, although I had begged to differ.



From my little time spent in Kota Bharu, extremist sentiments I did not experience, awkwardness of being a different race and colour I did not feel.. It was refreshing.





*Photos courtesy of fellow traveller and photogapher, Yeow Pooi Ling

Don't go far off..

A serendipitious find, from a year ago from a close confidante

Don't go far off, by Pablo Neruda

Don't go far off, not even for a day, because
I don't know how to say it:
a day is long and I will be waiting for you,
as in an empty station when the trains are parked off somewhere else,
asleep.

Don't leave me, even for an hour, because
then the little drops of anguish will all run together,
the smoke that roams looking for a home will drift into me,
choking my lost heart.

Oh, may your silhouette never dissolve on the beach;
may your eyelids never flutter into the empty distance.
Don't leave me for a second, my dearest, because
in that moment you'll have gone so far I'll wander mazily over all the
earth, asking,
Will you come back?
Will you leave me here, dying?

Pricks..

I didn't realise it hurt. I guess often the foolish ways of mine I forget prick others.

I'd like to call it an occupational hazard (LOL) having to listen to people's concerns, issues and arguments on how things should be fixed, work it into material that should provoke change and make a difference.

I forget sometimes emotions are involved and that others are human too, like myself.

I hurt her and I'm sorry. I saw that it stayed with her for so many years and I've not realised that it still impacted her. Wearing the hat of the question-eer, I asked, one, two many times. She did not like it. She did not want to accept that it had happened and I do not blame her. It was an awful decision, she was only 7 when it happened. I do not see any fault of hers to react this way to the decision.

Closure, some say? I doubt. I do not see it.

I guess it hits home when you have encounters like this, often we act impulsely, savouring the spontaneity of life, living the moment as they say, but often it hurts.

As righteous as I believe I am, I am not.

I often live as I wished, making impulsive, spontaneous decisions, so much so to have the adrenaline rushes, embracing the joys that life offers.. often which, hurts.

A year ago today, she revealed herself to me, I was sick for days, in contemplation, in awful contemplation of what was revealed.

Wake up little Susie. It's time to wake up.

I should have thought of this earlier..

CLARITY

*Courtesy of "A Beautiful Revolution"

I could not resist ...yet again...

I have bought a shiny gadget

* This blog post courtesy of "A Beautiful Revolution"... more under "Check Them Out".. ... Hilarious!

Orgasmic...

And I'm not talking about the ice-cream........Happy sigh..

Mo-blogging..

Stepping on the edge...

I have a phone...


Watch this space!

Veronika Decides to Die..

I am about to close the chapters on Paulo Coelho's, Veronika Decides to Die, and it interests me that reasons often exist for the littlest things experience, feel and do.

Trivial to some, I find life's tokens, blessings and teachings comes in forms and sizes usually unexpected.

I purchased this book huffily at the airport terminal on the en route to crinkle free trip to Bandung and Jakarta early one morning. I was to leave the house at 4am for this flight when my chartered ride did not arrive.
Hastily finding an alternative, I'm grateful for the ride to the terminal, amidst trying to calm my nerves. However,sore was I, as I had left Paulo Coelho's Portobello's Witch at home. A book I had eagerly wanted to read as the synopsis had enticed me days prior to the trip.

I was mad at myself for having troubled others, mad that I wanted my crinkle free break to start out right, mad that the beginning of my break was turning out to be sour.

Months before deciding on this form of escapism, knots inside me were tightening.
It is true what people tell you about recharging, applying the brakes, and putting a stop if you've had enough.
I felt very much all that, to points where I wanted to stop even trying. Wanted to sleep with those pills and not wanting to open my eyes again. Low spirits, having very different dreams, aspirations, ideals, values, I felt I didn't fit in life anymore.

I depended on this source of escapism more and more .. I needed to run the status quo, I wanted to hide from the usual questions and brush all the usual disappointments under the carpet..

Standing in the bookshop of the low cost terminal, I saw my second newly purchased book, with the words Decides and Die attracting me to its sypnosis. A story about a girl, who had everything in the world, deciding to die, after realising that there was no reason for living... The story starts this way, but ends rather differently..

In the book, the unveiling of her uniqueness, the pecularities in the circles she keeps, the different desires she was exposed to.. and the surrendering of herself to the very passion that in the end drives her living soul... struck me .. hard.

One glaring viewpoint was the issue of normality. Veronika ended up in a mental institution as her behaviour was categorised as abnormal.

Truly, really, what is normality. I argued long windedly with an Indonesian journalist about societal's norms and "acceptable" social behaviour. He asked me a question that opens a kaleidoscope of views.. Is there a universal acceptance of what is normal in society....
I wanted to differ for what I've been conditioned to believe as societal's norms,may not be norms after all.

We dissected this question, only to leave ourselves more boggled, questions to whether norms are just a way of life accepted by a large number of people or are they a set rules to follow... what about the minorities, what about the differences..
To lift from Coelho's writing, one questioned that if the hands of clock were designed to move in the opposite direction, would that be considered abnormal..

My escapism to Indonesia provided me with my questions than answers naturally,and in a usual long-winded, roundabout way, I find that amidst all my knots and tightening screws in my head, there are reasons.

Reasons to why the ride didn't show up, to why I left my things behind and to why Veronika entered my life the way she did.

It reminded me that I have to catch my breath, hold on and let go. Actions often I avoid for fear of losing, hurting and experiencing disappointment.

While it is nice to realise the irony of that very feeling of life is encapsulated in writings of another, it drives home a point that life is very real, with or without the clock ticking in the right direction.

And then there was three...

Three.. whoopsee doo. If there is such a word, I'd use it more often. Although not as "learned" as some words like virufication, which is awkwardly pronounced, it raises the eyebrow to find it printed in reputable publications.

I digress.

Three. I have not forgotten about my list of Ten. Having shot at everything but the target at a recent outing in the Sungai Besi army camp, I had the opportunity to try out two more items on my own, not the Casey Kasem Top 40 list, but my own small ego boosting, narcissistic list.

Martial arts. I had the chance to try out a class with the dear friend who was very encouraging. It was my first attempt at learning the Wong Fei Hung slides, poses and very "cool" stances.

Initially thinking it was a slow paced class, I decided to keep my mind open and stood in the drizzle with the other brothers and of course, the grandmaster. We started off with the salutations, this is a branch of a grander style Kung Fu, of which I have yet to find the English translation to, nevertheless, I must say.. it was ..... rock on! My favourite phrase in the last couple of months since the shooting trip.

Anyhow, the master taught me the differences in punches, from jabs, uppercuts and hooks.. and ahem.. I must say so myself, he pointed out to me that although my jabs needed some work, I was doing fine (for a first timer), with my hooks and uppercuts. Fooyoh!

The conversation about physical strength and Kung Fu came up over breakfast and wine one night and another dear friend points out that men, being physically stronger or for some reason or another, find it easier to execute strong punches,.. she and my Kung Fu pal looked at me funny... And concluded that indeed, it was strange that sifu found my punches to be strong.
The two decided that I was indeed turning into a bloke, after I admitted I could not talk and text message at the same time while struggling to walk on a gravel road in my two-inch heels.
Very funny, guys.

I digress.. again...
Martial arts is certainly fun, but more importantly, it reminded me how important discipline is... .. I promise, soon, I will commit to Kung Fu soon..

I said three, right. Mandarin is what I promised myself to learn. I moved one step closer to the fulfilment of this item on the wishlist. Picking up one of those language CDs from the bookstore, I decided that I will commit to listening to it in the car, or on my green iPod nano. Commit is the operative word here. Nevertheless I take pride in the fact that the language CD is not in the store now but in my room, waiting to be downloaded and appreciated. Ha!

Three. Well on my way to fulfilling Ten.

No sleep..

Have you ever woken up in the middle of the night, feeling as it your heartbeats are unusually fast.. you pant... panicking as if the room will close up on you... your claustrophobic fears slowly engulf you....

Brr..

Well.. it didn't happen to me so dramatically.. but I can relate to that.
I did wake up one night, feeling that way. I thought I was going mad. Or that that third cup of coffee was working overtime.. I then talked about it at work one day and someone used the words anxiety attack, that perhaps it was an anxiety attack.

Strange.

I hardly take these things seriously, for fear of being labelled as a drama queen, as paranoid and overreacting. But.

These nights didn't exactly stop... In fact when insomnia crept in.. I wondered.. could these caffeine striken corridor chats bear some semblance to truth.

As my clock ticks towards the ams, and the nights grow quieter while I lay awake.. Hoping I can turn my thoughts off, hoping that I can get some rest before the day begins again..

Maybe.

Anxiety is a big word.

Breathe Susie breathe.......

Worn out shoes, broken key chains and Xanax

I take a slow drive tonight. I heave a sigh of tiredness. Thinking back, physical exhaustion was
source not of my sighs and dark rings.
"What is?" I ask as I stopped at the red lights.

Slowly walking to the corners to find quiet, solace and peace, my chain of keys fall to the ground, into pieces.

I stop. I realise. The worn out soles, the expired music machines, the broken keys.
I said to myself, "They break in my hands, as I busied chasing my dreams."

I penned moments hours earlier. I let out much earlier. I ask again. They break, they fall apart, they are not important?

I penned more morbidity earlier. Talked about slips away, words of living stopped captured. Stop, I said, stop asking, stop caring.

These words keep me awake at night, these words keep thoughts alive. She says anxiety, she advised tranquility.

Triviality to some. Nocturnality to others.

I want to. Turn off. Switch off. Shut down.

Perks and pecularities

Something rung in my head the other day after a long lunch with an old friend. This friend has just left the journalism fraternity to join the corporate world.

As I continue to jibe him about wearing cufflinks and a tie, he smiles and points out that the cheapest ties he can find from the shops close to his new office was priced at least a hundred ringgit.
I told him, today, he has to step out of his journalistic shoes and view the world from a different glassbowl.
He readily agreed, saying that working in the corporate world gives him a completely new perspective.
Gone are the days of flexible working hours, the numerous tea breaks and the cigarette time-outs. Gone also are the days of wearing tattered jeans and your favourite Hard Rock Bali t-shirt to the office.
Welcome to a world where attires are pressed neatly, collars straight, and stiff suits prevail. I reminded him that the lucrative package offered should buy him a nice tie.

As we laugh off it, he shared with me about his colleagues, and once again remind me how people are driven by very different things.
It never fails to amaze me to read the wonderful chapters of the societal pages, the colours that define our human cultures, behaviour and etiquette in the world we live in.

My friend opined that his colleagues, some barely in the workforce for three years, were driving luxury cars, wearing designer brands and carrying designer goods. A father of three, with over a decade of journalism experience, he shakes his head with disbelief.

His quote, “I guess journalism exposes us to different things, and I’m ever grateful for that experience”.

This last phrase before we went separate ways, rung in my head.

I can’t speak on the behalf of others or those in similar professions in similar environments, the stories we hear each day, make us laugh and cry, in shame, with joy, expressed in multitude of emotions.

I sit quietly when a tsunami survivor tells her story, as she tears and explains the devastation, I laugh when I hear a philandering doctor climbing out of his clinic window as fuming wife chases him after finding out about his other “close female friends.”

While having no prejudices for other industries, lifestyles and professions, a journalist myself, I find that it constantly makes me question, the drives behind the material goods, the motivation for the different lifestyle choices, the care for different status and perceptions people keep.

Like him, I am no different, I enjoy comfortable living, I have my indulgences, and occasional splurges. It is difficult not to sound judgmental, but it always fascinate me how different things mean differently to others.

I watch as my girlfriend delicately handles her new branded handbag, while at the other extreme, I listen intently to a friend who struggles to keep his medical commitments and filial responsibilities.

I watch as my own father washes his brand new car on a daily basis, and I listen as my mother tells me the stories of how she gives away her pension to help someone make ends meet.

Looking at my five year old pseudo four-wheel drive with a busted radio and my tattered shoes.. I say…….life is wonderful.

Damaged souls..

Restlessness creeps in
Doubt engulfs your soul
Still mad, still upset
Questions lingerin...

The expectations, the desire
For want of more
For want of fulfilment
Curiousities encroached..

Quiet tears fill the night
Amos' words ring in your ear
So sad.. it's like a good book I can't put this...
Day bad.. A sorta fairytale with you...

Ride alongside you....
Ride... ride.. till you lost me....... on the open road...

Not ready to make nice...

Forgive, sounds good.
Forget, I'm not sure I could.
They say time heals everything,
But I'm still waiting

I'm through, with doubt,
There's nothing left for me to figure out,
I've paid a price, and i'll keep paying

I'm not ready to make nice,
I'm not ready to back down,
I'm still mad as hell
And I don't have time
To go round and round and round
It's too late to make it right
I probably wouldn't if I could
Cause I'm mad as hell
Can't bring myself to do what it is
You think I should

I know you said
Why can't you just get over it,
It turned my whole world around
and i kind of like it

I made by bed, and I sleep like a baby,
With no regrets and I don't mind saying,
It's a sad sad story
That a mother will teach her daughter
that she ought to hate a perfect stranger.
And how in the world
Can the words that I said
Send somebody so over the edge
That they'd write me a letter
Saying that I better shut up and sing
Or my life will be over

I'm not ready to make nice,
I'm not ready to back down,
I'm still mad as hell
And I don't have time
To go round and round and round
It's too late to make it right
I probably wouldn't if I could
Cause I'm mad as hell
Can't bring myself to do what it is
You think I should

I'm not ready to make nice,
I'm not ready to back down,
I'm still mad as hell
And I don't have time
To go round and round and round
It's too late to make it right
I probably wouldn't if I could
Cause I'm mad as hell
Can't bring myself to do what it is
You think I should

Forgive, sounds good.
Forget, I'm not sure I could.
They say time heals everything,
But I'm still waiting


*From Dixie Chicks, Taking the Long Way

Adrenaline... rush!

Unbelievably fantastic! As cheesy as it sounds, it was fantabulous. Being able to exercise one of your top ten to do things for the year blows your mind!

I'm talking about being able to shoot a real gun, with live bullets and being in army camp, soaking in the explosive gunshots, drills and strict military instructions. And to have pictures to prove it really rocks on!

Awesome!

Adrenaline will wear off shortly, and the Valley Girl talk too. But I must say taking part in the Armed Forces Media Day changed perceptions, open minds, and was a whole lot of fun.

Starting the day early at 630am, no one knew what to expect. Having zero experience with guns and live ammunition, we were given the quick rundown of how to use a weapon, choice of the M-16 or ACR Steyr. As a newbie, I was advised to use the Steyr, lighter, easier handling (so they say) and a scope to help aim at the targets.

Being a natural klutz, my practice session saw me shooting at the hills, around the target but not at the target. Clearing bullets from the shell of the rifle was a task in itself requiring strength I did not possess. Yoga sessions at the gym is not working as fast as I would like it to.

Safety was priority at the sessions, with each contestant aided by a minder, helping you load you weapon clear it and ensure the safety lock was on and that you do not point the gun at her or at your colleague standing right beside you.

Crunch time came when we were assigned teams and rivals. All geared up, with ear plugs in place, Steyr in the right hand and magazines held by my minder. We ran 50 metres towards the canvas where we took our positions, aiming at the metal plates 100 metres away. Clinching the weapon close to my shoulder, squinting to get a good aim........and pulling the trigger. Nothing happened. I tried it again, getting help from my minder to clear the barrel, and took position, aimed again, nothing happened. Argh! I thought to myself, hearing the explosive shots all around me I felt I was going to be the reason for the team to lose. Grr. After a few seconds of fiddling with the rifle, my minder confirmed that the rifle was jammed. Jammed? I thought it was my natural klutziness that led me to this nail biting, tension mounting moment. Argh. Soon it was time to pull back the weapon, check the safety latches and step out of the shooting area.

I contented myself with the fact that I got a chance to practice and fire a few rounds in the wee hours of morning of this eventful day. But disappointed with the fact that it didn't happen for me.

Nevertheless. Redemption (of the ego) is good for the soul, so they say. I headed to the open area, where I got my first taste of being in an army personnel vehicle. It was exhilirating, exciting, being sandwiched among fellow colleagues and taken for a ride, more exciting than any theme park ride I could remember trying out.

Pushing my hair out of my mouth and from my face, clearing mud from my cheeks much later... I say, it was AWESOME!

Crinkle-free

Lists are fun. This is post #2 on details of unnecessary information
I am full of myself, once told, something I am not necessarily proud about. I rather be termed bull headed or stubborn, giving in rarely to exchanges that do not always drive home the point.
But I am also human, like the 6,499,999,999 people in the world today and will embarass myself at some point in life.
Things that make me go.. .."darn ...that was embarassing..."

1. Having fluff on my skirt
2. Getting into the wrong car... ahem
3. Misquotes
4. Listening the old man's jokes
5. Watching the old man inspecting vehicle tyres not of his own in a workshop
6. Splitting pants in yoga class
7. Having breakfast wearing your favourite top worn inside out
8. Insisting harpischord is an instrument
9. Losing at scrabble

Nine. I can live with that.:)

Ten.

A yoga instructor, teaching meditation, once told me to clear my head, relax and focus on my breathing. After imagining my lungs expanding and contracting for about five seconds, which can feel like eternity, I found myself dozing off.
He assured me and the nine others in this 7am class that meditation will help alleviate stress, keep minds focussed, and emotions balanced. Perhaps I am getting it wrong, because meditation is certainly helping me fall asleep, once a problem for me.

I digress.

I find my head cluttered with 1001 trivialities and issues of the (my tiny) world, hence why the meditation class was much desired.
At times wishing life came with a manual, I would then turn to page 61 to find that it was time go back to school, quit my job, get a pet iguana, or something of that effect.

I reckon, listing down the things I want to do or haven't done yet fun or otherwise, will help in me in authoring my own life manual. Serious or not, it didn't really matter. As long as I articulate it in my head, it should see progress. Someday.... soon...

1. Learn how to climb. A rock. Wall or mountain. Commando style over high security walls would be exciting but will pose issues.
2. Learn how to shoot. I had a conversation over breakfast today with a gf, she wanted to learn how to fly a plane, I wanted to shoot a gun, of course, in a controlled environment. She didn't look convinced.
3. Take up martial arts. Another friend introduced me to a slow paced kung fu, tai chi type class. I didn't seem so keen. I was interested in a lot of kicking action, blood drawing jabs and uppercuts. The gf in question had similar puzzling looks as in the one in no.2.
4. Learn to swim. No explanation needed. I figured as an adult I should get over the my "drowning " incident when I was six. It didn't matter if it happened in a kiddy pool.
5. Tantric yoga - Madonna's physique at her age is self explanatory
6. Set up an outfit to help abandoned children, orphans and homeless kittens.
7. Learn Mandarin - My primary school teacher once told me that I needed to learn Mandarin to work in a bank. The ironies, nevertheless, it's not too late to start on my mother tongue.
8. Teach English in Cambodia. I'm never known to be a patient person. But I reckon in this environment, it will teach me that much treasured virtue.
9. Help build a school in Cambodia
10. Own a singel ringen

Ten. Not a very long list. Not a terribly easy list too. Certainly, though, a list worth keeping.

I learn.

I realised .... I got it all wrong.

A close friend was right over afternoon coffee..... It took him so many years of failed friendships, relationships and ships of sorts to learn lessons of life.
I realised all these years, these numerous exchanges and experiences with people, with colours that life offers us I've been using on the wrong approaches in these ships of sorts.

I fail to understand that expectations can't be imposed, and that I had been treading on the wrong path all these years. Yes, as much as I mock my pal about not discovering this earlier, I am guilty of it. I state the boundaries in my head, I state the conditions in my life, I make the mistake of doing the same for others. Control as some would like to label it, I'd like to cry the plea of ignorance.

I forget that as much I enjoy fluidity, openness, I impose expectations, conditions and placements on people I care for without realising how much I hurt them. It’s the same journey each time I take when I behave this way, selfishly, not realising that constricting, expecting, cause pain and push people away. Friends, lovers and closed confidantes.

People change, people have their spaces and lives, and I do not give them the benefit of doubt, selfishly I ask, I plea, for values, time, space and conveniences that often or not, undeserving of me. Friendships, relationships and ships of sorts are not possessions, not within my control, not mine and mine alone.

I have to open my mind, values, moods, thoughts, feelings. I’d like to believe I’m generous, but clearly has shown that I’m not. Here…….I apologise to those whom I’ve hurt or had scarred. I want so much it slips through my fingers, I squeeze so tight it suffocates, I love so hard it breaks.

I hope to move on, to learning lessons of importance, in preserving friendships, relationships, ships of sorts, I won’t be not guilty of expecting again.

I let go and let live.

Who, why.. when..

Who really knows
Who really knows what lies in you..
Who ever questions…
Who asks

They try
They try, to come close
They want to, to come close
But do they come close enough?

The life of solitude
The life of one
The life of independence
The life of freedom

I built the wall
I built the comfort
I built the strength
I built it. On my own.

Who, who wants to come in?
Why, why want to venture
When, when will they reach
The point, to understand

Who knows.

Dark days. I am told. To have resilience. To have strength. To snap out of it.

How do people know what to do when days are dark, I often wonder. Will these advices work. I often ask.
I don't feel sorry for myself. I feel sorry for not trying hard enough. For not being able to battle harder.
For not letting the tears stop their salty pearls from sliding down the cheeks.

I anger over old issues. That injustices are served. Integrity not kept. Promises broken.
I should be used to it by now, no excuses that I am an emotional human being. I don't anger over others. I anger in myself.

I recall the vows I made. I recall the happy smiles when they sing Christmas songs, I see in them, only to really know the pains they sleep with. The blood that bleeds.
I recall seeing the cardboard boxes, folded carefully as if they were blankets, as if they were beds. I recall watching her walk the alley, as if it was her private room.
I watch the one-arm girl smile and play by the coffeehouse, in her pretty white dress.
I do not envy. I do not only want to sympathise. I compel. I will not advertise. I don't talk about actions.

What I can do now is to strengthen resilience, resolve. Maintain my beliefs, be nothing but honest. Be nothing but true to myself, despite the prickly thorns that are little irritants in life. Taken in stride, taken with strength. Resolve.

They were right. It does work.

Two syllable words

Alone. Two syllables, not difficult to pronounce, neither tough to spell.
Happy. Same number of syllables, easy speech.
Who would ever realise these two words are difficult to admit with honesty.
Rare are those who can mouth these words with conviction.
With honesty.
Without playing up to facades of their owns or of plays written by others.
Even more rare I find those who can coin these two words together in simplicity to mean..
Alone Happy. Happy Alone.

Crazy...

Not sayin'
not charmed at all
Not sayin'
that you weren't worth
the fall

And I was alone when
I knew it was real
Down the canyon
when I knew I had come

To the line
Through the dawn
To the light
To the turn

When you said
You could drive
all night
Drive all night

So I let Crazy
take a spin
Then I let Crazy
settle in

Kicked off my shoes
Shut reason out
He said "first let's just
unzip your religion down"

Found that I
I craved at all
Saw me melt
into your
native shelter

Where you carved my
name
Paper tigers scare
and came
Alive

Through the dawn
To the light
To the turn
When you said

You could drive all night
all night
Drive all night

So I let Crazy
take a spin
Then I let Crazy
settle in

Kicked off my shoes
Shut reason out
He said "first let's just
unzip your religion down"

So I let Crazy
pull me in
Then I let Crazy
take his spin

Kicked off my shoes
Shut reason out
He said "first let's just unzip
your religion down"

Heard that you were once
"Temptation's girl"
And as soon
as you have
rearranged the mess
in your head

He will show up looking
sane
perfectly sane
If I know Crazy


*Tori Amos, Scarlet's Walk

When I grow up..

Some things in life we take for granted, the fact that our laundry is done without our knowledge, ready made food on the table when we get home, our socks folded neatly in our drawers.


I am not short of this guilt, amidst the madness that runs in my head or the exaggerated dramas placed in my mind, I forget those close to me who are important and go unnoticed.


I return from a sharing session with a character older and wiser than I, who has seen life's trials and errors through jaded eyes and whoses eyes crinkle when they relay a decade old joke.


I believe we find ourselves in this situation some time and time again and do not recognise the need for openness, understanding and acceptance. I am blessed for forces beyond me gives me the chance to be accepted, understood and to be open.


I have had these encounters rarely and am again amazed at the levels of which this relationship has developed into. Twenty years ago, we would not have been able to talk about politics, love, pains and share lame jokes. Twenty yrs ago, he would have been advising me on which school textbooks to buy, how not to chew with my mouth open and to say hello aunty to strangers.


When I grow up.. I want to be like him.

I would want to be able to share as much as I can with my next of kin, the levels of conversation, thought and hopefully more intelligent jokes. When I grow up I want to be like my good old man.


A post dedicated to those fathers who have been able to share a bottle and half of Carlsberg with their 20-something (ahem) daughters... A post dedicated to my old man... who drank more than I did! And mothers too. :)

W.iL.D

Give me the chance
To let it all go
To scream in ecstasy
To live and let live....


Give me the moment
To dance it all up
To grind it down
To make it sexy
To get it off....


Give me the space
To shout it all out
To go mad
To let loose
To live crazy.....


Give me the chance.......

...........simple pleasures............

..........a back rub when you are having your menses...........
.........Getting out of two inch high heels after a long day at work....
........that scent of hot tarmac after a brief rain.........
........having double chocolate chip ice cream after chamomile tea....
.......getting to the loo in the nick of time.......
........80's music.......
..... being driven home while you listen to Tori Amos' A Sorta Fairytale on your new Ipod...
.......waking up to a sweet sms from a special someone..........
.......having a 4 o'clock Milo with that special someone......
........having a good cry........
.........rolling around in laughter.............
........singing a Whole New World.... in the right key.....
........hugging and saying I love you......
.........having a silent argument...........
.........unexpectedly falling in love.......
.........you and me..........

Sharing an Ipod, stealing music and Nantuket Nectars.......

type la nothing sexy comes to my mind yet
does it have to be anything sexy? Romantic?
yea life is boring without romance or sex..y
sharing an Ipod, stealing songs from your hard drive and sipping leftovers from your Nantucket Nectars......romantic? yes? no?
can't disagree with you on that. Amidst the crowds, gushes from the noisy water fountain and less than pleasant music from the next door bar, yes, it is rather romantic.
huh? sitting next to each other and sharing stuffs.......makes us oblivious to all and sundry??
Well. Despite coughing over month(s) old Dunhill lights and banned from smoking your Indonesian smokes, I must say spending moments with you evokes discoveries of a new kind and experiences unfelt before.
If this place doesn't close, reckon we could be here forever....?
You reckon?
Hazelnut hot chocolate, chamomile tea, scones, doughnuts and you.......yea....I reckon so.....
I appreciate being last on this list, but as tolerance is the key theme for me this year, yea. I could tolerate being the final item on our late night coffee meet.
But really, it doesn't really matter if it was here at the overpriced coffeehouse or the stalls by the durian tree, all that makes meaningful is to be able to share it with you.
Auwww......so sweet......shall we go home and make maggi mee and spoon while watching meaningles TV?
Ooh ohh... that means yes in Tagalog.
.....but you're boiling water......
Sure. I'll even climb Mt Kilimanjaroo for you.
.......but you're still boiling water.....
I love you cos your sense of humour can be as horrible as mine.:P
Me too.....split at birth I reckon......You getting condoms?
Condoms I never buy. But I'll make the exception for you.
Good! You getting condoms and boiling water......Yea!!

Dim Sum

I'm a firm believer in reasons behind encounters, moments and friendships.

Coercion, forces beyond will, lessons learnt with hope of no repetitions.

In the little years of my existence, I realise repercussions of speaking up, keeping silents, loving willingly, holding quiet grudges, bottling out, venting loud....

But despite the colours that paint out lives, the tears that drown our moments, I learnt of unconditional love that touches our hearts.

I thank the blessings for having these paths crossed, for making beautiful moments shared.

Moments of hours or moments of seconds, I believe, at least through my eyes, we do not stop to reflect enough and appreciate these moments.

I reflect, and hope to keep these thoughts fresh no matter decades or seconds old, that it matters, to stop and embrace and appreciate.

I found these moments in "dim sum".

Letting go...

I learnt lessons of letting go from a dear friend the other. The following phrases ring constantly in my head.
"People leave you because they are not joined to you. And if they are not joined to you, you can't make them stay. Let them go. And it doesn't mean that they are a bad person it just means that their part in the story is over.

And you've got to know when people's part in your story is over so that you don't keep trying to raise the dead. You've got to know when it's dead. You've got to know when it's over.

Let me tell you something. I've got the gift of good-bye. It's the tenth spiritual gift, I believe in good-bye. It's not that I'm hateful, it's that I'm faithful, and I know whatever God means for me to have He'll give it to me. And if it takes too much sweat I don't need it. Stop begging people to stay. Let them go!!"
Letting go, keeps hearts lights, smiles wide and souls happy.
Letting go of past pains, of memories not infinite. But I also learnt clocked moments are not crucial. An hour, a year, a passing second or eternity, beautiful so long you let go, smile wide laugh contagiously humors light.
Paths cross for a reason, stories shared for the telling, beautiful moments felt, cherished. Let go, spontaneity, light, happy.

In Your Eyes - In the mood

Tripped along many stones
Enough to say
I found my own way
I don't know where to go
Couldn't see where it leads

Making castles in the sand
Afraid no one else would hold my hand
I'm stained from the world
Sad, sad, sad little girl

But I see in your eyes
Your wear no disguise
Help me find my way
I'm like a bird in the sky
You helped me to fly
Fly away
Fly away
Back home... back home

Holding on to memories
Often scared
Of what I'd see
And then you came
And then you came
And rescued me
And I'm okay
I'm okay

But I see in your eyes
You wear no disguise
Help me find my way
I'm like a bird in the sky
You helped me to fly
Fly away
Fly away

Oh and I know you'll never leave me alone
I'll follow you just anywhere that you go
In my life I can see you
I know I believe you will stay, oh
In your eyes
You wear no disguise
Oh oh oh
Like a bird in the sky
You helped me to fly
Oh yeah oh oh oh

In your eyes oh oh
Oh yeah, oh yeah
Yeah hey yeah oh
I said you're like a bird in the sky
You helped me to fly
Fly away
Fly away
Back home
Back home

In your eyes
In your eyes

*By Anastacia, from Pieces of Dreams

*Three am mornings are spent listening to this over and over again... Beautifully crafted to capture this moment

d.O.o.r.s

Just when life's doors
Closes on you
Another one
Opens up to you.

Baby steps
As you take
Beyond what you understand
Beyond what your heart can take

It grabs you
It gasps you
You wonder
If you want to catch your breath

Nothing prepares
No one knows
The colours
Behind the doors

You smell
Inhale the whiffs
Of fresh air
Closing eyes

Baby steps not so
You exhale, smile
Open them wide
Embrace with heartfelt warmth

I'd Pick More Daisies

If I had my life to live over again,
I'd try to make more mistakes next time.
I would relax, I would limber up,
I would be sillier than I have been this trip.

I know of very few things I would take seriously.
I would take more trips.
I would be crazier.
I would climb more mountains, swim more rivers, and watch more sunsets.

I would do more walking and looking,
I would eat more ice cream and less beans,
I would have more actual troubles and fewer imaginary ones,

You see, I'm one of those people who lives life prophylactically and sensibly hour after hour, day after day.

Oh, I've had my moments; and if I had to do it over again I'd have more of them.

In fact, I'd try to have nothing else, just moments, one after another, instead of living so many years ahead each day.

I've been one of those people who never go anywhere without a thermometer, a hot-water bottle, a gargle, a raincoat, aspirin and a parachute.

If I had it to do over again, I would go places, do things, and travel lighter than I have.
If I had my life to live over I would start barefooted earlier in the spring and stay that way later in the fall.

I would play hooky more.
I would ride on more merry-go-rounds.
I'd pick more daisies....

*Anonymous

*Reproduced from a sharing of a close confidante, who reminded of what is truly important in life.

I

I don’t.
I don’t want to.
I don’t want to call.
I don’t want to intrude much.

I respect.
I respect time.
I respect spaces.
I respect… respect.

I withdraw.
I withdraw much.
I withdraw myself.
I withdraw from giving.

I seek.
I seek peace.
I seek solace.
I seek undying love.

I stop.
I stop whines.
I stop complaints.
I stop to look, think and act.

I focus.
I focus strong.
I focus on ambition.
I focus visions, goals and dreams.

I find.
I find love.
I find strengths.
I find unconditional understanding.

S.A.N.C.T.U.A.R.Y

It's raining outside. Pelts of water hitting the roof.

Perfect excuse to stay in. Sit in. Hide.

It is easy for some. To find this place. A place that will content them. And find heart's peace.

To some, it is not so. I rediscovered it's difficulties again.

I know tonight why I hide from the masses, seeking differences, seeking uniqueness. It shouldn't surprise me.

Behind the interactions of masses, behind the meetings of volumes.

One would think uniqueness exist. One would think the differences would stand out. It doesn't.

It doesn't. I don't have the answers. I've been searching. I stopped.

I started to believe that uniqueness will present itself in its form.

I find then a sanctuary of my own. Amidst my kinks, my niches, my corner, my peeves.

But.. uniquess taking its form, it did. It unfolded in ways unexpected.

I am discovering a sanctuary unknown, a sanctuary I met. I pray. I can stay.

Wounds uncovered, wounds healed

It was a nudge, it was a wake up call. I admit, it was something I was not prepared for.

I kept it under wraps for five years, six maybe.. I woke up to realise that I speak about acceptance, about differences, I had not accepted it.

The same close confidante pointed out an invisible wall around me. A wall I hardly realise, a wall I never imagined I could have built. How was it visible..

We never realise ourselves how we portray our happiness, our pain, our contentment. I did it by hiding, letting drown deep, deep into my past.

I'd never thought I'd speak about it again, but I'm very glad that I was shown this wall, shown this chance that I have to accept the pains, and the relief one feels after difficult moment.

It was exactly that wall. I build around me to protect from being hit again. To protect from being abused again. To stop from lashes of pain at me again. To stop the profanities, to stop the disrespect. To stop the throws, to stop the control.

I feel a burden leaving, I feel the acceptance. I thank you to you, for showing me that life's experiences does not make you any weaker.. It teaches you to accept that mistakes happen, pain hits you, and you DO find happiness, contentment.

How does one do that, I found it in accepting.

Acceptance

I love reflections. I love reflections amidst the blasting of my favourite songs. I find it gives me the peace, contentment, the 'one-ness' I have with myself.

I spoke long and hard with a close confidante one night. Of dreams, of aspirations, of the people we meet. How difficult it is to gain acceptance, how difficult it is to not be judged. How difficult it is to just live by your standards and not others. Time and time again, we are asked of the choices we make, the options we choose and the thoughts we have. No harm's done, but no value enhanced.

T-shirts and jeans as opposed to pretty dresses. Being alone as opposed to be in groups. Being simple as opposed to having a roomful of things. We live our lives differently and we respect each other it, we have our individualistic traits and idiosyncracies. But, do we accept each other's differences?

We are ultimately simple people. We all want to be happy with our choices, live by them, abide by them and accept them, even if it means to offend, we apologise. But it does not make us different from the person at the opposite end of the table, it does not make us evil or tainted. It makes us different. It enriches us. Can we take a step back to understand this?

Let's celebrate other's differences, let's celebrate each other's colourful lives. Let's live.