Wednesday, June 28, 2006

When's next.?

I don't know what I'm supposed to feel now. I'm leaving my hometown in less than ten hours time and I couldn't exactly tell what I feel or what I'm actually suppose to feel. Perhaps that's because of having more than one home town.

I stepped into the teenage hood back in Tawau, and lived through it here. But to think of it, the place where I really grew up is this double K city. Double K, how familiar. =)

It's the place I've learn most, yet. Or perhaps, the place where I started to know myself in this never ending road of learning throughout the years of my life.

The journey is always more important than the destination. The process of growing up is priceless. Irreplaceable. Nothing in this gigantic living sphere can break the spell.

Does great anticipation of certain things are always generously welcomed or accepted with an excited red hot cheek and sweaty palms.? Nervous wreck it almost blew your brain off.? Yet, when it arrived, it felt, [insert what ever suitable word]. For me, there's not a single word to describe it.

Is patience really a virtue.?

It takes time to tell.

I wonder when will my next post be.?

A rather melancholy tone in this post, but I still would like to say, I'm still feeling awfully blessed. =)

Tuesday, June 27, 2006

Those Were The Days

Last night, it rained. It was so heavy that it once again cut off the electricity while I was watching England and Ecuador and I lost yet another long unfinished unsaved post. To hell with SESB. And I should off my PC whenever I'm away. -.-!!

The rain continued till the whole morning, covering almost the whole day. The sun was hardly seen. Hiding behind the soft bed of heavy clouds concentrated with water preparing to launch to the earth with every hard drop cruising all their way down from the sky.

Some say the grey sky contributes more to the melancholiness because of the gloomy feeling, in other words, blue. Some say it reminds them of certain memories, especially blue ones.

Someone once told me that rain reminded him of his childhood. Watching those water droplets falling down from the atmosphere slowly, creating moist in the air while patches of water started to accumulate on the ground. Especially those muddy earth with holes, watching every drop of water plunging down, touching the water surface followed by little round of waves breaking the surface tension, slowly filling up the hole.

The smell of rain and soil mixture fills the air, tickling your nostrils, bringing you back to the era of your childhood, where the biggest crime committed in life is being caught by the queen of all, mom for playing under the rain. These flashes always makes you ponder back to the sweet old days, days you no longer have, days when back then, you hope you'll grow up faster so you don't have to listen to your nagging parents anymore. In a blink of an eye, you're hoping to go back to those innocent care-free days.

AH! Those were the days.

These old memories, are like bitter sweet chocolate. There are kiddies stunt that makes you laugh your belly out, there are also those which reminds you how disappointed or a loser you once was. But whatever is it, its what makes the today-you.

I remember being scared by my elder siblings. Especially my brother who loves to jump out of no where, behind the door, behind the curtains and whatever creative places he can come out with, scaring the timid me which usually ends up with me screaming. Once, running to mom with tears streaming down my red hot cheeks. Trust me, my brother succeeded big time in one of his attempts. Or perhaps, I'm just a coward. HA!

There was also the funny moment where each of us compete to finish up our dinner, ensuring not even one single tiny bit of rice are left in our plates, showing it to Dad, hoping for a GOOD or simply a thumbs up. Or when we'll try to impress some dinner guests by helping out to clean up after dinner where we rarely do with my parents raising their eyebrows wondering what in the world are we doing or trying to prove. HA! Innocent yet hypocrite.!


When I was five, I took an egg from the fridge and gently put it into my school container. I was feeling proud that I'm handling an extremely fragile object successfully without causing a mess or breaking it, until my maid come screaming at me. I was puzzled, with a halo of question marks dancing on the top my head, having no idea what's wrong with bringing an egg to school.? I mean, its still the same hard rock egg where all you need to do is peel the shell slowly and it's smooth white flesh will be there ready for consumption already. But the innocent me back then didn't knew at all that an egg taken directly from fridge is inedible!! I hadn't the slightest idea that it was raw!! I thought it was those boiled egg!!

Extreme hilarious stunts pulled when we were really young that brings out our smile or silly grin sometimes can really brighten up a gloomy day. Or some little painful scenes serving our punishment that reminds us how idiotic we were back then.

Childhood, it shapes up the person you are today. It leaves a great memory behind and marks a great territory in your brain cell even when you're already an adult. Telling you from time to time of what you've done and what you haven't.

Some people say, childhood are suppose to be happy memories, no-worries days that are full with love. I guess that's the normal picture most people usually have. But I guess everything changes as the world grows older and things get uglier day by day. Can I say I have a beautiful childhood then.?

I'll just say I miss being a kid.

Sunday, June 25, 2006

For Better or Worse

I'm starting to get wishes and of course advices from people around me before I depart from here and it felt a little different. After all, it's always me who's been wishing others "Take care" and "Keep In Touch" and stuff.

My mom practically say to me boldly that,
"Aren't you happy now.? You're finally getting away from home.? With no one else to control you anymore.?"
I didn't answer her. It's not necessary. As always, its a rant. Not exactly a question that require an answer. Even if it's not. It's still useless. She's dear mom. She's the one who's calling the odds and ends. And that's exactly what I told her. Hmmm....

Honestly.? Yes, I'm glad. But not to the extent that I'm thrilled whatsoever. I'm not some naive underage girls who's dying to crawl out under the protection or control of their parent's five pointy fingers.

In fact, I'm damn sure that I'll be home sick very soon. I guess, this is what you call normal feedback.

It's commonly said that, its not what back at home that makes your heart stay while your body is thousand miles away. It's who that's back there that makes your heart ache.

Absence makes the heart grows fonder.? Well, for some it could damn well be. For some, absence just speed things up. For better or worse.

I'm still feeling damn blessed. =))

Friday, June 23, 2006

I'm blessed.

I woke up this morning, feeling blessed. How often do you honestly actually really felt you're blessed.?

The appreciative mode that's hardly there. We're never grateful of what we have. You've only counted your unlucky and bad days. But not good ones. More like, our eyes are accustomed to see only what we do not have, but turn a blind eye to what we have.

That's why you'll never see your luck even if it's right in front of your stubborn eyes. Luck is always with the one who doesn't need it. Did they realize how fortunate they were because they didn't need it.? No, because they saw it. When you need it desperately and it comes by, it'll go by unnoticed. Because you'll just grab it conveniently without a doubt.

I guess the same applies to the "You'll only appreciate what you have once you lost it."

Slightly different to the "You'll never know what you have until one day you realize you no longer need what you have".


Recent happenings seems like a television to me. Images flashing in front of my eyes and POOF.!!

My next step is queued up for me. Next destination slowly building up their imaginary appearance or expectations are created in my tiny brain cells that's all self working busily lately keeping me occupied.

My heart tells me I should be grateful. Am I not.? I think no. I do know what I have, what my fate and luck has brought me and I couldn't be more happy about it. Perhaps, my melancholy has blinded me in expressing my gratitude. Or the sudden fact that slapped me across my face wake me from my seven months of slacking.

So, I should count my blessings. Here goes.

1) I should be grateful for being granted the fifth choice out of the eight programs and universities I applied despite scoring only an average CGPA in STPM.
2) I should be grateful that I got what I wanted and that's to get out of here even though it's not a city of my top choices.
3) I should be grateful that a close girlfriend-classmate is going to the same place as I am even though we're in different faculty and college.
4) I should be grateful I have my family going KL with me for an early shopping spree despite mum declare herself being unfair because non of my elder siblings has this baby sitting process during furthering their studies away from home.
5) I should be grateful I'm sorted into a college (hostel) that's extremely near to my faculty even though it's a pretty run out place with food that you can hardly chew.
6) I should be grateful my college has internet coverage despite it has a lousy connection.
7) I should be grateful I have seniors I've known for years studying in the same Uni and being in the same faculty as I am is helping me out. A lot.
8) I should be grateful I have people around me helping my preparation even though at the same time some are driving me up the wall.
9) I should be grateful with what I have but not what I need that's an extra benefit. Even though sometimes it makes me feel bad when there's other who need it more than I do and there's nothing I can do about it.
10) I should be grateful that I'm being grateful.

Trying my best to be positive in practicing optimism while unable to avoid the realism I have in my obstinate blood. Hey, at least I tried.

What can I say, I'm blessed. =))

The Dream (Part 2)

The grasp was strong, it almost hurt.

I was rolled to the side. Then,

There was light.!


Shhhhhhhhh......They're looking for you.! Stay still.!

Another hand covered my mouth. It smells of sweat.

My pupils dilated. I looked at him.

I could feel his heavy breathing, but I couldn't see his face.

Not even when we're so close.

But how did I know it's a he.?

Something swept past. Something, or someone.?

What is it.?

The faint yet cold breeze cruising over my bare naked legs.

The unwelcome feeling is back. Goosebumps.?

What.? No, frozen, immotile temporarily.

My eyes rolled and rolled.

To left, to right. Rigid body.

I saw it.! The black shadow emerged.

Behind the hooded cloak, a face that's not a face.

A face that's not there.

It's frightening, I dare not look.

But I have to. He turned.

Oh no.! He sensed me.!

Smelled me.

I close my eyes. Hard.

Listening to the surrounding with my heart.

A gentle hymn sung by the night rainbow.

The rhythm, that sounds like a lullaby

A heartbeat, rocking me into safety.

I open my eyes slowly, and looked at him.

My savior.!

Not the hooded faceless hunter. He left.!

A tremendous relief.!

His cold icey-blue eyes, piercing into mine.

Eyes, the door to your soul.

Only, he has no soul.

Just another flying immortal.


The one being hunted, the mortal.


To be continue......

Thursday, June 22, 2006

Nothing comes without a cost.

I'm leaving for KL on the 28th. Thinking about that makes me miss my blog so much. Not that I wouldn't be able to blog, just much lesser. Mean time, will update as much as possible and for now, I have to stop. I have no glasses with me now. And typing is a little difficult.

Less than a week to wrap things up.

Wednesday, June 21, 2006


I'm getting a little woozy woozy. Instead of the usual blue. Perhaps is the sudden fact or fate that bestowed me, that I am indeed really leaving soon. It felt like being slapped straight in the face, to wake me up. Only, I was awake. And the smack hurts. Big one. (With an enormous red colour hand print lying beautifully and proudly across my face.)

By the way, I hardly dressed in blue colour. But I guess, its just a word resemblance. My usual choice of black colour tops simple speaks out my melancholy. Loudly.

Tuesday, June 20, 2006

Toss A Coin

It was a day we were all waiting for. Another anticipating day that marks a great turn in our respective life. The path you take that will line out the rest of the entire journey. A great leap perhaps.?

A new life is about to begin.

Am I anxious.? Nervous.?

I do not know. It was a shock. The news came earlier than expected. But it sink in pretty soon. It's not the idea of starting a new life in a new place around new people. Its the fact that I'm leaving. Going away from home. For the first time. (Yes, I know I'm 20 freaking years old already and only leaving now is actually not such a big deal what so ever.)

I got pretty used with people around me leaving all the time. Furthering their studies here and there while I'm always the loyal one staying here back home and waiting for them to come back during their holidays. And being the one to leave now feels kinda different.

Here comes the time. My time.

I honestly declared that I do want to get out of here. But now when the fact tells me I am indeed will be getting away, it felt different. Uncomfortable.? Or perhaps just some mere pre-byebye-home syndrome.?

Was I rebellious in toying with my choices.? Was I wrong to allow fate decides my path while making a bundle of choices.? For merely tossing the coin while calling for heads or tails.?
But then, I wasn't someone who has the ability to will the coin to reveal the side that I prefer, or make both ends meet. I was only free to make any choices I want by simply calling 'heads' or 'tails' and let the loose ends tie themselves up when the times come. May the wind blow me to where ever it desire to. Where I supposedly belonged to.

And now they did, I'll just go.

No, please. Do not take me as a loser. Who has no stand nor enough integrity to make her own important decisions in her own life. Those that determines the following route as you're in a T-junction now, left or right.? As my dad always said.

It was too early to tell. I wasn't allowed to make a turn. Was I stuck.? No, it so happens I wasn't in a state to do so, yet. Now, I'm consented. The coin is tossed, the side is shown, and I took a turn.

Saturday, June 17, 2006

Football, not soccer. I'm no American.!!

Well well, I know guys who can't live without football. With their favourite team tattooed in their arms or ass. Who would actually grieved and mourned when Arsenal lost the most important match of the season while unfailingly making your girlfriend thought she did something awfully wrong since all you're doing is frowning, sulking and keeping quiet. Most of all, ignoring her. Or, FIFA world cup seems to compress every other thing to the size of ant or seems to monopolize your brain and your sighting capability. With the single and most commonly used reason of course. What.? You expect me to missed a once in a four year event just because its [insert whatever important events here, etc exams, deadline].? Everything is just simply BOLA.!

And there are those, who doesn't give a damn about football. They do not understand what's the fuss about almost 2 dozen of people racing over a stupid ball towards the goal. Not to mention the millions or perhaps billions of people cheering world wide and of course the gambling. Ooopps. I mean, investment.

They find it rather ridiculous and considered football extremely highly over rated and deviated from its real significant. Considering how much one football star-player actually made a year or the enormous brands sponsors that spice up the price that's at least a few times more worth of the original price, say a pair of shoes. Make that sport shoes.

And of course, made other normal football-loving-mania MEN wondering do they really have actual balls just because they don't enjoy the same passion of kicking a ball across the field or get an orgasm when someone scored.? Of course, they're in the same line with most girls. The I-don't-know-anything-about-football or football-sucks clubs.

Hey, don't hate me football fans aka MEN , I'm just quoting. HA!

And of course, girls naturally love them more for that little matter. But some say guys who only have a slight interest in sports are kinda gay. I mean less masculine perhaps.? Okay, nicely said, studious or less sporty guy.

Actually, to think of it, its pretty much the same thing. Guys doesn't understand the point of shopping for shoes or manicure, pedicure, this and that. And don't start pointing that finger to the over flooding wardrobe or excess amount of unpaid credit card bills when you're all over beers and footballs and three basket full of unwash stinking laundry just because world cup is on. Not to mention you're practically surviving on one piece of underwear for a couple of days. YUCK!!

Okay, so I exaggerated. =P

Well at least not all girls are anti footballs. They are girls who play football, love football and of course, watch. They are indeed girls, who watched really because they like it or enjoy the ball chasing game, not for the sake of pleasing their boyfriends or watching some super hot mouth-watering football stars like the Calvin Klein underwear model, Freddie Ljungberg. *DROOL*. Hahaha. Come on, Beckham is like SOOOOO off season.? I mean, he's like has 3 kids.?


I mean, its pathetic. Blokes can say the latest mega carnival sale is highly over rated and completely just another lame reason to empty your wallet. And why can't females announced that football is too.? It's the same thing. Blame it in our genes. The extra X chromosome in our DNA compared to the big Y in guys are indeed an enormous difference between these two sexual opposition. And for this, we have to thank our creator. Big one.!

I'm not saying this just because I don't fancy football. In fact, I do not hate football, I just don't go crazy over it. I do watch football not because I'm drooling over someone or trying to please someone, I just watch to fill up my boredom. I know that sounds so unright or a great disrespect to the I-can't-live-without-football world. At least, I do enjoy watching some game sometimes and won't declare world war 3 and goes ballistic when my partner forgot [insert any type of anniversary] because England is playing against Sweden or what so ever.

But still, its the forces of nature. Don't blame the ladies, don't blame the gentlemen. Try the semi tolerance of letting the ladies shop all they want and preferably not a word of complaint while carrying their shopping bags and in return, the blokes get to watch all the matches with a bonus of silence.

Ladies, be grateful that FIFA only comes once a four year, minus the Euro Cup, English Premier League, Spanish and Italian leagues. Gentleman, be grateful that ladies are still ladies despite the I-don't-have-anything-to-wear syndrome when she can practically open several boutiques of her own with her massive collections. After all, you wouldn't want your personal lady friend to be wrestling with the rest of your guy friends right.?

Go figure. =))

Friday, June 16, 2006

The Dream

My feets were numb. I couldn't move a muscle.

What is this place.? Where am I.?

Why is it so dark.? Where's the light.?

What is that.? What's the silhouette.?

Who is it.?

What's that sound.?

Shhhhhhhhhhh......Don't move.!

Who said that.? Where's everyone.?

Shhhhhhhhhhh.....Its THEM.!

I gasped.! My sweaty palms cover my shivering mouth.

How long can I hold my breath.? How long before my fear betray me.?

The black shadow move swiftly on the roof, floating by.

Like a ghost. Except, I do not know what does a ghost look like.

I felt a drop of sweat, trickling down my face.

I panicked.! I tried to stand.


Everything froze. Silence fills the air.

THEY stop. They heard me.!

I ran. I ran and ran and ran.

I never stop. I dare not look back.

I tripped.! The rock gave me away.


An enormous shadow topped over me.

Oh no!!!!

My little soul cried.

I close my eyes, and prayed.

To be continue........

Thursday, June 15, 2006

One Art

The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.

--Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

--Elizabeth Bishop

Reading this poem in In Her Shoes made me so blue again. How tiny things which supposedly are wearing an invisibility cloak usually pass by without notice or commonly shove into the back stage nowadays somehow always manage to trigger the melancholiness in me. It's like a disease or perhaps, a brand new addiction.? Is this the results of having too much free time for my brain cells to wander around.? Or the unrest mind and anticipating feeling as the day draws nearer and nearer.? Creating little thoughts all the time in this state of mind which is rather, gloomy.?

Oh! Where's the light.?

Love and hurt..Parallel.?

Today, dear mom unload some real life stories to me, I felt blue again. Which revolves around what hurt you most always happens to be what you love most. Or more familiar known as, the one who hurt you the most is always the one who you love most.

After all, if you didn't love the person enough, how could their action possibly hurt you that deep.? It sucks, but reality speaks otherwise.

Why does loving someone with giving everything you have will always end up getting hurt with nothing left.? Because they're not the right one who deserves it.?

What if you have no choice.? But you're born to love them.? Are you that cold blooded to ignore the blood relation in between.? Even if you've lost them once, when they come looking back for you, the sad teary face begging for your help and sympathy, how could you possibly has the heart to turn them away.?

You've always love them till every bits, but they're also always the one who conveniently hurt you till your roots and make you wish you they were never born. And they happens to be the only one who can make you happy again after all the damages they caused.

But then, if you're damaged that badly, is it possible to recover.?

For me, I trust its a curable disease. It's just the matter of time and who's the magic curer. After all, nothing is impossible. Of course, assuming the fact that the culprit could no longer be the one who makes you happy anymore. How sad, yet you felt a sudden relief. No more burden, no more sadness but you lost the special joyous feeling too, the one that can only be given by one person.

There's no such thing as dying permanently inside while you're living outside. Unless you're buried six feet under the ground, there is still hope to turn it inside out. Is either you be the pusher yourself, or you just sit by and wait for the motivation or person to come knocking in your doors and start the healing process.

To bring you back alive as a real person with inner and outer contents, your reincarnation. Not only a walking body without a soul that doesn't feel a thing or a moving and talking mannequin that's hollow inside. Empty.

Tuesday, June 13, 2006

My life is bored for now.

"Hai! So bored lar. How you spend your time one arr.?"

Okay, so what was I suppose to answer.? Me, who spend 90% of the time in my room, 5% outside, 1% bathroom, 1% living room, 1% kitchen, and miscellaneous 2%. My sister who just came home for ten days after spending three years studying away from home, and practically going out all the time everyday is actually moaning bored to my ears. How am I suppose to tell her how did I manage to pass this almost 7 months doing practically nothing.? Tell me, what then is considered bored.? Or perhaps, I'm a boring person, that's why I don't feel the extreme boredom.? No, I feel it alright. Just that I'm immune to it already.

You call this life.
I'm feeling extremely blue again.

Monday, June 12, 2006

Good In Bed

Ever had the feeling when you're reading your latest obsession paperback and it reminds you how much it resembles your own life.? Or simple little details that relates to reality so much and almost identical to what's happening to you.? You just simply love the book more and more and couldn't put it down unless you finish it.

There are times when you were so deep into the book that your emotion or mood flows with the book's plot. Like when the story turns somber, your mood drop 18th floor and you start wearing a sulky or drowgy mask that makes people surrounding you back away one by one to avoid being your potential victim. Perhaps, you should ask why are you so easily infected by the book's agenda.?

If you're not a little down yourself, or because it didn't sound like your life at first, you wouldn't be that deeply influenced right.? Especially if you're talking big here. Extremely highly affected by the story that you find yourself talking and conversing in the way those characters does in the book. And your day dreams started to shape towards the story you've been reading with different characters, fantasies and goals all slowly transforming into something new yet familiar.

But then, the limelight is when the book pops in loads of unexpected surprises especially happy or warming ones, that somehow manage to touch your heart and without realizing, your row of pearly white teeth are showing more and more. You're reading the book and at the same time grinning like mad and your mum or sister beside you start scratching their head, are you crazy.? Hahaha.

But the most important thing is, your heart is smiling. Genuine smile, that suddenly you feel a joyous feeling running in your vein. And you feel happy. Happy for the character in your book? Sounds rather silly.? It's absurd, how can you possibly be feeling something about the character which isn't even real.? But guess what, sometimes you do. For the simplest reason of what happened in the story, you do. Just that you didn't realize it or perhaps dare not admit. I for one, do. And no I'm not trying to act sentimental. HA!

Every story has a beginning, a problem, more problems, more and more problems or you can call it climax, problem solving and then the end. There's so much you can learn from it, not to mention some new vocabulary, ways of conversation, ways of dealing, ways of overcoming problems. But then of course, you will only learn, if you allow yourself to be taught.

People read boldly most of the time, just because the story is damn interesting and entertaining that you read it just to laugh and then that's it. WHAM!! You close the book. Even though you still loudly proclaimed that you loved the book so so so so much because it's so so so so nice. So what.? You still never learn from it didn't you.? You came across something, go through it and then that's the end. You never stop once at least to think about it.

That, would be such a waste and disgrace to the book you once so-called owned. Read it once and kiss it goodbye. The paperback that you once loved so much when you read it a million years ago, has been send to a new residence, the furthest row behind your ancient book shelf that surprisingly still manage to survive till the present day. And, it carries a brand new mission from then on, collecting dust.


I was reading Good In Bed by Jennifer Weiner when some part of the story hit me really hard and I put the book down immediately and my fingers started to work really fast with my soon-to-be-retired squeaky keyboard. Within a few minutes, all these was written and I saved it in draft without reading it. I was surprised at my sudden unpredictable self again and getting those weird feelings that I'm getting odd again. But then, it occurs to me that how is it possible that suddenly I feel weird when I AM already indeed weird all the time.? HA!!

Anyway, this book of course unsurprisingly turns out to be a really enjoyable read. After all, its not entitled good for no reason. And please, do not deviate your thoughts just because of the title. Though, this is strictly a woman fiction and blokes I presume wouldn't be interested but absolutely will be attracted to it's eye catching title. It hardly has anything to do with bed business beside the fact that its really Good In Bed to be read. And Ping Yin dear, I'm highly recommending it for you. There read the first chapter here. Enjoy.

Sunday, June 11, 2006


I have a number of drafts saved in my blog, most of them under construction of course. I do not know what's with the writing mania that's gotten into my blood lately. It just seems like every single view that went pass my eyes or merely a simple conversation will triggered some sort of mini typewriter in my brain where I would start citing words and sentences silently. Hoping that they would remain long enough in my brain for me to jot it down later.

I once read somewhere that writers are born more than they're trained. How true is this.? Honestly, I do not care. Or perhaps, I'm not someone who's qualify enough to care.? I write because I like to and because I want to. There's no one that requires your explanation nor reports on why you write so much especially when your writings clearly aren't categorized as the work of a writer or even potential-to-be-writer. In other words, rubbish.? Nevermind.

I do not and never addressed or think of myself as a wannabe writer or someone who will never make it because her writing is so wayyyyyyyyyyy behind of what's labeled as appropriate or perhaps readable material.

When I started to write a lot, I knew perfectly well that I write completely and solely for me myself. I guess that simply makes it much easier and comfortable to write and rant whatever you desire. Regardless, of course there are the hopes of someone who would appreciate your work, or perhaps even like it. But on top of it, as long as I'm free to write what and when I want to, I don't see why I shouldn't. Nor why should I give a damn when what I wrote happens to be beyond the acceptable or ingestible level. How surprising.

I remember my first attempt to write a story when I was little. Can't remember how old I was, perhaps 8 or 9 I guess. But I do remember getting weird gazes from my parents when they were enquiring what was I doing sitting at my study desk for so long which I rarely do. The only thing I did remember about what I wrote what was my WANT was written as ONE. Sounds funny now, but thinking back, its pretty predictable as those two words clearly has a similar pronunciation where WANT is usually pronounced without the T sound. (Okay, laugh if you want to but I'm not ashamed of my confusion between these two words that's used every second and no, I'm not defending the kiddo me. Haha.)

Assuming that my story was as cheesy as possible, it was pretty obvious that it's barely near to be called a successful attempt. Actually, I think I'm perfectly positive that even my young mind doesn't register my story to be well, even readable to the kid that I was. After all, that was the only story-writing stunt I pulled or remember. Perhaps, it was the only one, excluding the rest of the homework.

Sometimes, I do wonder why I'm writing so much more than I usually do. But, I've learn not to ask WHY all the time where most of the time it's unproductive, unnecessary and even sometimes inappropriate. I'm not a quiet person in reality, only to some strangers or people that I couldn't bother to care less because of their impossible characters. In fact I'm pretty much of a talker if given at least an okay conversationalist. But then, I find myself hardly talking about what I write here at all. Deviation from the real world.?

Perhaps I should start keeping a private personal journal. This blog is extremely personal to me, but it isn't private for anyone with an internet access can run into your blog with a simple click. If you're thinking who do you think I am and who would actually want to dig up the entire infinite world wide web just to read my lousy brainless writings.? You're wrong. Even though there's hardly any random person who would come across your blog unless you're in the top list of the bloggers in the blogosphere world, you would never know who would come across this page when the unfaithful day decides to make its unwelcome and previously-thought-unanticipated entrance. POOF, your blog appears.

I had ideas of starting various kind of journals. Diary, movie journals, food journals, dating diary, favourite quotes journal and even prayers diary. Some of them really did existed as I have a thing about nice journals that when I saw one and it would seems like they're calling for me helplessly to rescue them from the dull and boring display shelf and sometimes, I do. That's why I have a small collection of nice notebooks. And I don't see why I shouldn't make use of them, even though none of them lasted very long.

I'm seriously trying harder to prolonged their life.

Saturday, June 10, 2006

I'm a Klutz.!!

I have to confess, I'm an official certified klutz. Not any usual clumsy fatso who tripped once a while cause their tiny feet can't support them,(pardon me, I'm not being offensive) I'm an authentic royal klutz queen that never fails to embarrass herself out in public. Its as easy as the click of a finger. Just a piece of cake.

Which explains why I have a slight humpty dumpty phobia. When you're wearing a pair of heels and walking down the stairs in an open public place like the mall, I tend to have this gushy feeling filling all over me and some wicked voice start whispering in my ears though it felt more like an invisible person looking directly into my eyes saying,

"You're gonna fallllllllllll, you're gonna falllllllllll..!!"

Or when I come across a big pile of water or wet spot on the floor, the feeling returns. The weird phobia that I might just slip and BAM!!, falls flat with my ass landing on the ground first in front of just about a million people with their eyes staring at you boldly and laughing their heads off. And then, people would start gathering around you fishing for what had just happened and there it goes. The new circus clown in town had just performed the best trick which got the audience bursting into laughter, only its a wicked one instead of the usual genuine HAHAHA.

All of a sudden, it seems like time is under some sort of spell and the next few seconds or minutes simply just froze in your eyes whereas your loyal Swatch's minute needle never seems to able move even a tiny muscle. And you silently pray that there would be a nearby hole for you to hide inside and reemerged when the coast is clear. But then, the fugly scene is still there and unsurprisingly, you're the new laughingstock and highlight for the next few hours of those shop attendants near where you made your alarming and bright memoir.

Perhaps, that's the most embarrassing moment of your entire life. To some, its just an amusement of the day. But then, being clumsy or a klutz is no crime or black sheep or what ever. It's just what makes you learn to walk like a so called real lady which is quite absurd like you're floating. It's just you being you. Learn to be proud of it and live with it even though it seems pretty hard to be glorious about your public bashful encounters. But then, it's either you learn to accept and simply laugh about it like its no biggie, you better start learning those swan walking gliding steps with an inch thick ancient book on top of your head that you're trying damn hard to balance.

Okay, I was exaggerating. I never did mistook a step and come tumbling down the stairs in the mall, but I do have some quite humiliating historical scenes of my own. And yes, it seems like eternity before the effect finally decided to bid me farewell especially after a rather memorable nasty event but then, I lived, didn't I.? My "klutz experience" was indeed pretty humorous but not as flowery as the above. It's just to emphasize the message and make it more understandable. =)

Well, since I wrote something like this, I might as well include one of my various extremely awkward position I walked fell upon before in these almost two decades since I crawled out of my mom's belly.

Beside the pom-pom dance episode when I was 6, about 4 short years ago, I slip and fell beside the pool. And, this is no ordinary pool that's isolated in some sort Recreation Club that hardly has any regular visitations from members or some high profile clubs that's so grand that a membership cost a ridiculous five digits amount, this was a PUBLIC swimming pool. No, I'm not kidding, I was wet from head to toe and naturally there were splashes of water everywhere near the pool and perhaps I was indeed walking in a slightly faster than average pace. After all, the 16 year old me is a little shy and of course wouldn't wander around in her bathing suit and will try to return to her belongings as soon as possible. Well, klutz blood caught me and those water beneath my wet ducky feet pulled some trick that obviously and unfortunately succeeded and I fell. At least not terribly and I regain my stand as quickly as possible to avoid further embarrassment and giggles from anyone who's aware of the little action that my genes managed to create.

Yes, I was awfully embarrassed and my face was boiling hot and red of extreme humiliation while saying hello to fate that decides to throw me yet another catastrophe. But hey, its just another regular everyday stuff and I happen to have more of it and well, it's either I've grown used to it or I've learn my lesson of improvising and acceptance. Okay, so I'm not really that generous nor humble, at least just enough to share some shame shame accounts of my life and losing your balance when you're supposedly the sweet 16 teenager isn't something you share everyday.

Okay, that's one and it's enough for the record.

Thursday, June 08, 2006

Ambiguous relationship

It reflects a bond between two person that's closer than best friends, yet further than a family member.

Mutual feelings between each other obviously exist, but both are perfectly aware that its not solid nor rich enough to embark on an actual relationship.

It's where you fully understood that life has too many things that cannot be altered, too many questions without answers and reality has too many limits and barriers for you to conquer. You knew something are just meant to be impossible, but you just wouldn't let go. Perhaps, you can't.?

It's the foggy state when you're armed with the impulse to move things a step forward, but unfortunately, are not accompanied by the courage to do so. And hence, stay stationary.

One never confesses how he feels, while the other always acts innocent. In the end, one's forever a mute, one's forever an actor. Both, remain unknown.

It's a bond where she's not your lover, yet she cares and understands you more than your partner does.

She's the FRIEND that would text you just to remind you to take your medicine, put on extra clothing, tighten your cozy blanket and sleep early whenever you've caught cold after the weather turns chilly.

She's without a doubt someone you can call in the wee hours and chat with whenever insomnia attacks and you couldn't sleep. And you're just too afraid and hardly has the heart to disturb your sound asleep girlfriend.

When problem strikes and you just couldn't solve it, and your partner is unreachable or simply it's something you can't tell her, she's the first person that comes into your mind.

When ever she mentions her other half, it pains your heart so deeply, but yet, you sincerely wish her all the best. While cursing him madly of course!! After all, just because you can't have her, doesn't mean someone else can..!!

You know perfectly well that if you load her with your relationship problems, you would worry her and even saddens her at times. But then, besides her, you have no one else to go to.

What you've gone through together is like bitter sweet chocolate, but yet, nothing real actually happened before. After all, the two of you never really did begin. You're deeply in doubt, very uncertain with what you've gained and what you lost all this while with her.

It's where you always misunderstand your actual relationship with her. You're afraid once you clear things up and tell her what's on your mind all the time, nothing but the truth, not only you might shoo away a potential lover, you could lost a best friend too.

It's when you can't see her, you miss her. But when she's right in front of you, it doesn't feel like more than anything out of the ordinary.

It's when both of you ponders at the same question. With you wondering all the time whether has she shows you any signs yet.? And there you go, start self criticizing that you're just over reacting and thinking too much. Perhaps, you're the only one feeling all these itsy bitsy teenie weenie goosebumps, the only one with a quicken heart beat and sweaty palms.?

Could it be.?

Yes, I know I suck big in Chinese and trust me, with my level of literacy in Chinese, this took me quite a while to so called translate it. Yes I do admit that I'm ego and decides to add in a little something something of my own just to add up the juices a little. Haha.

Wednesday, June 07, 2006

















I do not know who originally wrote this. It's just a piece I come across from a friend's blog and would liked to share it since I found it rather interesting the way it relates to the many types of relationships that happens to exists in reality. Will post the translated English version of my own tomorrow. Enjoy.

Tuesday, June 06, 2006

06.06.06 or 666.?

The triple 6. Some say it's the devil number and could even mark the day of the end of the world. Some say it's a once a lifetime date and its a tremendously good sign and hence a massive popular amongst the Chinese as a day to tie the knot.

Well, whatever it says, seems like just another day with a rather beautiful date isn't it.? Does it brings other meaning behind those cubic numbers then.? Of course, only if you let it to bring some major or minor significance to you.

Hardly anything to the non superstitious and common people. Perhaps meaningful to some dying to get married people. And who knows some circle of people in any corner of this earth are performing some sort of rituals whether its worshipping what ever is it they believe or perhaps chanting some mumbo jumbo incantations at exactly 6:66:66 06:06:06 a.m. on today, the 06.06.06.? I don't know, the possibility could be one in a million, but no matter what, there could be still. After all, who knows.?

Perhaps this is what we called variety.? After all, we do have a bloody 6 billions of Homo sapiens living in the same sphere don't we.? Well, what a nice number of coincidence. =)

Forgive me for a rather hocus pocus post for I just don't want to miss out such a nice date and hence wrote a rather gibberish post. By the way, the time posted is a hoax. Cheers.


My head was screaming inside with migraine and I was alone in the dark lying in my cozy bed. The current was once again doomed to somewhere. The constant black out lately is like some sort of witch or sorcerer cast a black spell to the neighbourhood. Yes, its like a few bloody times a week and it's more than sickening. I can hear myself cursing FUCK out loud when I'm occupied with my beloved computer and suddenly, the screen went pitch black and there it goes again, electricity stopped. Not only its harming my dear pc, there's practically nothing to do when there's no current. Yes its that bad. The degree of reliance towards electricity to survive or continue our daily routine is that pathetically high.

Can you believe our so called rainforest city is still always undergoing this sort of scenes.? Perhaps we're just Orang Utans wearing a human mask living in tree houses in this developing city then. At least, that's the image people living in giant cities have about the Land Below The Wind. Don't you know.? They practically think we still live in tree houses and are stark naked while going online using broadband. How sweet.

Courtesy of the recent black outs, I started to wonder why I rather spend time alone in the dark with practically nothing to do when I could have went out. I don't know why. The blazing headache perhaps.? No, I just wanted to be alone. I LOVE being alone. I don't understand why I adore it so much. I really can't explain. I want to know, I wish I knew, but I don't and now, I don't care about it. I just enjoy it.

Perhaps it's the usual thing where there's no reason behind certain thing you like so much heh.? Then why think so much about it.? Knowing that you loved and enjoy it is sufficiently enough. Why go digging the reason beneath it.? Don't go asking so many irrelevant questions that's not necessary to answer. In fact, I enjoyed it so much my dad think something is wrong with me.

Why do you spend so much time alone in your room.?

How am I suppose to answer him.? Well, I don't. It's not meant to be a question. More like a comment of his unsatisfactory towards my behaviour perhaps.? He mentioned it more than once occasionally. Sometimes followed by another complaint about what exactly do I do in my room all the time.? But then, it's always only a mere rant of him once a while that brings no further conversation. Not that I have a lot of conversation with him. Well not nowadays when I spend ninety percent of my time being a couch potato in my little world. We used to talk more when he used to fetch me to school every morning.

Anyway, the thing about being alone, I just don't understand why I do that. I'm just like that. Am I spending too much time alone then.? Is that considered unhealthy.? Why do I need so much of my own space.? But what how much is exactly considered as excess or insufficient then.? Is there a thermometer or some sort of measuring equipment to measure the human mentality needs.? Do you wish they have.?

I rather not.

Monday, June 05, 2006


I've just erased an entire entry which is rather melancholic and what Ping Yin calls deep. I realize, these writings not only make me grow up, sometimes they would bring me back to the sulky and gloomy feeling. Yes, my entries reminds me of my unpredictable and unexplainable mood swings. Or perhaps, it simply reflects what I'm feeling.? I don't feel sad. I just feel, not happy. Rather spiritless.? Or what people called, blue.?

No, I don't even know what I feel right now. I wonder if I'm obsessed to melancholy.?

Sunday, June 04, 2006

Less melancholy, more regular.

My sis is back. As in, finished her studies and back for good. Actually, both of my siblings are graduating this year and as for me, probably would be leaving next month. I wonder does that explains why everyone is encouraging me to stay here because it's nearer to home.?

Usually when either one of my siblings are back for holidays, I'm quite thrilled. But silently. I won't want to look like an excited 6 year old waiting for her Big Brother Billy to come home everynight and rocked me to bed right.?

When you're the youngest in the family, or you can called it the forever endangered protected species especially when you're a girl and being alone here with both parents is like...Erm....Enough said, you get the picture. I'm not being ungrateful what so ever just that their full attention is completely concentrated at me only. And that I'm quite a homely girl, I stay at home a lot. Well most of the time being in my own room only. My parents are of course great people just that, in this span of 3 years, I'm always the saucy beef steak SQUASHED between two pieces of hamburger loaves. And trust me, being the temporary only child ain't that good all the time. All though you do get extra pampered, you get extra lectures and loads of unwanted unnecessary attention too. And can't blame me when I hide stay in my room all the time.

Another thing, I woke up this morning thinking that there will be exactly one more month before starting another new life. Since last November, things have been moving at a pretty fast and slow pace at the same time. Two years ago, I spend the 6 months SPM break doing practically nothing minus the fact that I spend 3 weeks overseas and 5 weeks stuck in my dad's office and so-called work.

Not that I'm doing much now, besides the fact I didn't go traveling this time and spend 6 months staying here growing mushrooms with 2 weeks baby sitting teaching spoiled brats and another 3 months dedicated in substituting my part time maid and still is now.

I realized in this hyper long break, I've watched countless of movies, read quite a few books and even made much more and regular entries in my blog than I ever did in this 2 years of blogging. Can you called this a productive break then.?

There's people telling me to really find a job and I seriously don't see all the fuss about it. I told them I do have a job, and that's cleaning my house 3 to 4 times a week and do mountains of ironings. After all, it's right under my nose, and the house needs help anyway. Plus, it's a job that I get to sleep until the sun set or whenever I desire. Not to mention the extra allowance I get.

Well, I do complained a lot before this. Having to wake up with a lazy feeling all the time and here comes the "I have to clean the whole damn house AGAIN". But now, I've actually grown used to it. Not that I'm saying I don't need my maid anymore, I still can't wait for her to get back and I actually even dreamt about it. Just that when you have no choice and even though you're doing the task rather unwillingly at first, sooner or later, you'll get used to it. In fact, the other day when I was busy being a free tour guide and skip quite some chores, the skin of my tiny hands started to peel when I get back to the old broom. I wonder was it the effect of my sun burn or my supposedly fragile hands?

Anyway, posting a pretty regular entry today. Read back a few previous entries of mine earlier and noticed that they have been rather melancholic. Well, gotta take a break sometimes and guess it's time to go out and breath some fresh air.!!


Friday, June 02, 2006


It pains so much when no one knows what you're thinking. Worst, no one knows who you are, what you are. When you're suffering alone in the darkness and it still seems like millions of fingers are pointing towards you. There's no place to hide your face. No where to go. You just have to stay there and look at everyone else with their big bulgy eyes staring straight at you directly right into your heart. Demanding hungrily to feed their starving ears with what they wanted to hear regardless its the truth or not. The mixture feelings of guilt and innocence all jumble up beneath you gasping for every next breath but ignored and you remain there, suffocating. But no one cared. Not even a soul. You're just like another lifeless dummy on displayed that your appearance or existence brings no significant to anyone at all. Your heart cries terribly where every single tear drop hurts you so deeply when it rolls down one by one. But then, those invisible crystal drops are of course no where to be seen. Waiting to be discover perhaps.? How long would it take.? Today.? Tomorrow.? When.?

Thursday, June 01, 2006

I can't think of a title.

It's commonly said that getting busy and work the hell out of you will make you forget what you're constantly worrying or thinking of. The usual example being that taking work to numb your feelings when you're missing someone badly or trying to shut something off your mind completely but clearly isn't working.

But then, the way I see it, not only it doesn't works, it makes thing worst. Call it avoiding or lying to yourself as you like, occupying yourself with heavy work load doesn't make you forget someone or wipe the problem away. Of course it does, but only temporary and that's during the time you're working your ass off. And when you're done, the feeling returns, making their red carpet entrance that you dread everytime but you know it won't go away. You've expected it from the beginning, hoping that the next time it returns, the feeling would have faded, or at least you would feel a little better, that you don't have to go through another series of miserable emotions but everytime, the same cycle goes on and on. And guess what.? You still feel the same.

It pains so much when all you want was to get rid of something, but it just won't. There's just too many issues that lingers around so long that nothing would make it go away. You're not alone here tackling with unbearable moments or unhappy memories that you wish it would disappear simply at the click of your fingers or a wave of a magic wand. But sadly, we're not living in a fairy land and magic wand simply does not exist. And here, the difference is how every different individual handle it.

Some decide to just let it be, paralyze it. Ignorance is bliss. But how true is this phrase.? Of course, as far as you allowed it to be. The time will come when the cycle completes a full circle. And there it goes again, your turn has arrived and here comes the familiar uninvited moment. You're so used to it and you've already know how it feels. But you just leave it and made no move nor attempt to get rid of it completely. You thought you've remained stationary, but then you didn't realize the problem is deteriorating at an unbelievably rate that's also bringing you down. You're just too damned to feel it.

There are also some who are courageous enough to finally take over the problem and ruled it out once and for all. Too bad, this happens to be the road that's the minority choice for it bear too much pain and risk even though it promises potential amazing outcome. Why.? Are people too afraid to undergo pain and disappointment then.? That the fear itself is totally blocking your sight that you're incapable of making decisions that you might regret.? Or perhaps, you're chickening out.? Not brave enough to go through such expectations that you dare not even think about.? Not even once.?

And hence chose to put it aside? And let it rot.?

Is ignorance really a bliss.? Something that you dread to happen sometimes isn't as bad as you think it would be. And bitter past aren't suppose to be a burden that you silently wished you don't have to face when the unfaithful day comes and someone brings it up. It's not to remind you the ugly scene of what you've done wrong or what that's happened. They're there to educate and guide you not to repeat the same mistakes again. So that you don't have to bear those painful consequences all over again. After all, it's from mistakes we learn. Failure is a harsh teacher, but it's also the best one.

Simply reminds me the oil stain you got on your brand new lucky shirt that just landed you the job of your dreams but the big yellowish spot just wouldn't go off no matter how many times you try to wash it away. It was meant to stay whether you want or like it or not. And its up to you how to hide the stain. Do you cover it up with a nice brooch the next time you wear it, or add another piece to your "wear once only" list, or dye your shirt a new colour, or just ignore the stain and continue using it.? After all, it's still your lucky shirt.


Okay, so I was swearing more than usual at my previous post that explains my rage that wasn't suppose to be there but was there. Which reminds me, is swearing really that influential to younger people, e.g. kids.? When I was a kid, I don't remember me swearing or whatever. I was banned to even utter a slightly impolite word and hence swearing isn't something we practice or commonly do even though I was raised with a mum who swears in Cantonese like nothing when she yells at her kids. Was I influenced.? You be the judge. Haha. But, as much as I swear in my blog, SMS and online chatting, I hardly swear when I speak in real life. I don't know why but I just don't. I guess I prefer sharp excruciating words than foul words in real life conversations when you come face to face with bastards and bitches, swearing just makes you sink to their pathetic level. Though, I do remember once almost saying fuck out loud in front of my dad and I held my breath right away. I have no idea what picture will follow if I really did swear it out but I guess it's better to leave it untouched. Plus, I can't recall hearing my dad swears in English, not even when he lectured me for he lectures us in full queen's English. The most I hear him say is SHYT and DAMN. Well, once in a blue moon, he does swear in his Hakka dialect, yes, but I guess its common for people to swear once a while when their in deep rage.? As for me, do you think I should swear less.? After all, I'm still a lady.? Hahaha. Yeah right, and I rather swear and be Kelly than don't swear and act like miss imsoperfectandfake.

端午节快乐!! Don't forget to eat dumpling and I forgot what festival it's called in English. Cheers.