The conversation scared me.
When the rightest thing starts to drift, everything else seems wrong. Even when they aren't.
Then everything else will start to hover around where they are, like how everything just comes to a standstill, in mid-air. You can't go on, yet you can't go back.
Somehow, when everything seems right in place, something will definitely go wrong. It happens every single time. Never fails to prove me wrong.
It hasn't happened. YET.
On a side note, when your mother messages you at work, to inform you that she has done the favour you asked of her, and tells you the price of it. 6 bucks.
What do you do?
Excuse me for a moment while I go transfer the 6 bucks to her. She needs the 6 bucks in order to truly enjoy herself in Japan, spending grands.
So tell me, do I reply her saying thank you for ruining my day? Or do I reply her saying sorry it cost you 6 bucks. Tell me what should I do.
Friday, June 30, 2006
Thursday, June 29, 2006
When familiarity becomes foreign.
The steamboat sessions, laughing till our sides ache, taking photos like there's no tomorrow, the chill-out sessions, all the "can't be bothered with what other people think, we just want to have fun" sessions, oh yes, these happened before.
We used to be so close. We used to have so much fun. We used to love each other.
"No one remembers these, or perhaps, no one wants to remember."
We all still have the photographs as evidence. What's evidence without a case to fight? It's like, there was a murder, a weapon was found, everyone knows that it happened, but no one's doing anything about it. So what do you do, continue with your own business and just cross your fingers a miracle will happen.
"It's no longer about the tension. It's like we've never crossed each other's path before."
I really don't know how to pen all these, my exact thoughts, what I hope to see.
What happened to us?
I have no idea, anymore. I have absolutely no recollections or whatsoever of what went wrong. Yes, "things happened."
I want us to all be fine again. You're all pieces of me, people who make me the person I am, the loves of my life.
Even if each of us wants to go back to what we were used to be, maybe not, but it's just....hard. Everyone is headstrong in their own way. Too headstrong to just take a baby step back.
Being close to one doesn't mean I love the other any lesser.
10 years from now, we'll still going to be talking about it, reminiscing about the fun times, laughing at the old jokes, passing on the story of how insane we were, breaking into a smile with thoughts about the past, but, we'll still just be going to talk about it.
As much as I want things to go back, things don't always happen the way I want.
You can't undo what went wrong. You can't try make things better now, hoping that all these beautifying will cover up the debris that's buried below the surface.
It's one thing about not hoping. It's another about having no hope.
We used to be so close. We used to have so much fun. We used to love each other.
"No one remembers these, or perhaps, no one wants to remember."
We all still have the photographs as evidence. What's evidence without a case to fight? It's like, there was a murder, a weapon was found, everyone knows that it happened, but no one's doing anything about it. So what do you do, continue with your own business and just cross your fingers a miracle will happen.
"It's no longer about the tension. It's like we've never crossed each other's path before."
I really don't know how to pen all these, my exact thoughts, what I hope to see.
What happened to us?
I have no idea, anymore. I have absolutely no recollections or whatsoever of what went wrong. Yes, "things happened."
I want us to all be fine again. You're all pieces of me, people who make me the person I am, the loves of my life.
Even if each of us wants to go back to what we were used to be, maybe not, but it's just....hard. Everyone is headstrong in their own way. Too headstrong to just take a baby step back.
Being close to one doesn't mean I love the other any lesser.
10 years from now, we'll still going to be talking about it, reminiscing about the fun times, laughing at the old jokes, passing on the story of how insane we were, breaking into a smile with thoughts about the past, but, we'll still just be going to talk about it.
As much as I want things to go back, things don't always happen the way I want.
You can't undo what went wrong. You can't try make things better now, hoping that all these beautifying will cover up the debris that's buried below the surface.
It's one thing about not hoping. It's another about having no hope.
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
I miss being sixteen. Today's the day it gets tired. So keep the blood in your head and your feet on the ground.
When does it reach the stage, when everything in the past and whatever you're dong now comes and bites you hard in the butt and starts to hold you down, forcing you to slow down and perhaps, even take a break?
Can you still afford to take that break? Perhaps, it could just be that little time for you to revitalise and push yourself even harder. Perhaps, it could be that little amount of time you need to hold on in order to reach the end, but you chose to give up. You look back and tell yourself in exasperation, "If only I had known...". But, it's too late, it doesn't work this way.
If it wasn't for what we did before, we wouldn't be what we are now. True. But, if it wasn't for what we did or didn't do in the past, we could have been someone we are not now.
Every step we take is a decision. One can be influenced, one can be intimidated, persuaded, convinced, or whatsoever into making a decison. Ultimately, we're the ones making the decision, walking the talk, answering for the consequences, it's going to make the person you will be 50 years down the road.
When it boils down to it, we're simply living our own life. Do or die, or at the very least, the effort put in, it's our call.
Now, as the realisation of all these starts sinking in, with the responsibilities and commitments tagging along, all I feel like doing now, is walk out of this office, and shut myself out from the rest of the world.
When you have both your feet stuck firmly on the ground, pegged by all these nonsense that you tie yourself up with, whether by choice, or by default, you just want to let go of it all, but you can't.
At this point, all you can do is lean onto another for support, borrowing each other's life experience as a source of comfort. You laugh. You cry. You enjoy. At the end of the day, you go back home, knowing that you're on your own once again.
And the vicious cycle continues. Without mercy.
Can you still afford to take that break? Perhaps, it could just be that little time for you to revitalise and push yourself even harder. Perhaps, it could be that little amount of time you need to hold on in order to reach the end, but you chose to give up. You look back and tell yourself in exasperation, "If only I had known...". But, it's too late, it doesn't work this way.
If it wasn't for what we did before, we wouldn't be what we are now. True. But, if it wasn't for what we did or didn't do in the past, we could have been someone we are not now.
Every step we take is a decision. One can be influenced, one can be intimidated, persuaded, convinced, or whatsoever into making a decison. Ultimately, we're the ones making the decision, walking the talk, answering for the consequences, it's going to make the person you will be 50 years down the road.
When it boils down to it, we're simply living our own life. Do or die, or at the very least, the effort put in, it's our call.
Now, as the realisation of all these starts sinking in, with the responsibilities and commitments tagging along, all I feel like doing now, is walk out of this office, and shut myself out from the rest of the world.
When you have both your feet stuck firmly on the ground, pegged by all these nonsense that you tie yourself up with, whether by choice, or by default, you just want to let go of it all, but you can't.
At this point, all you can do is lean onto another for support, borrowing each other's life experience as a source of comfort. You laugh. You cry. You enjoy. At the end of the day, you go back home, knowing that you're on your own once again.
And the vicious cycle continues. Without mercy.
Saturday, June 24, 2006
A mind once stretched will never regain its original proportions
Can one ever truly forget and get over a person he/she loved so much before?
A question that's been ringing through my mind since a very long time ago. When it comes to become a play on the conscious and the subconscious mind, can we fault the subconscious mind? It's bewildering me, still.
The thing is, do I identify with that feeling? Do I require an answer to that? Do I already know the answer? Do you know the answer that I'm supposed to know but do not know?
Does coming into contact with familiar places, familiar activities, familiar faces, somewhat functions like our peripheral vision, registering in our subconscious mind, forcing us to dig up these melancholic feelings without us realising?
Or, is it a case of "I'll never get over you getting over me"?
I've thought it through and through, over and over, tossed and turned in bed, those words rolling about in my head. I suppose I've got to answer that for myself and to myself first.
For me, I'd say I've closed that chapter of my life. Looking back, not that I regret what I did or starting the relationship. I learnt from it, bringing what I learnt about myself into a new relationship. Perhaps, in a way, he taught me things about myself I never could have come to terms with by myself. Recalling the aftermath of the breakup, it was horrible. So horrible, I cringe just thinking about it. Yet, some good did come out of it. I came out of it stronger as a person, started loving and being in touch with myself and friends again, made new friends, lost my way and fumbled around for a quite awhile before finding my direction once more. The way out seemed clearer once I came to terms with the facts I had stubbornly ignored.
I was self-deluded and craving badly for attention. I was hating him. I was dying to move on. I was forcing myself to move on. I was all things negative. Emotions were an insane rollercoaster ride. One common advice I received was to throw myself into work to distract my thoughts. After watching all those lovey-dovey movies and shows, I suppose, that was what people normally do after a breakup. I wanted that too. One problem. I had no work to throw myself into. Instead, I threw myself into nurturing new friendships, repairing old friendships, focusing on other people's problems instead of my own. In a way, the constant act of pushing my limits and his limits, resulting in self-torture did help.
I gave up. I moved on. I became happier. I learnt how to smile once again. Finally, eating made sense to me. Someone I love alot told me this, "Start doing everything for yourself from now onwards."
The downside to all this, negativity started building up in me. I was afraid of history repeating itself. I was terrified of going through this cycle once again. I couldn't bring myself to love again. I started seeing things from Su's cynical point of view, "Since you know it's coming, why start it in the first place?"
Well, all this aside, I've really moved on. I've gotten over questioning and seeking answers long ago. Some things just do not require an explanation. He's just someone so familiar, yet so foreign. Without a doubt, it did take some time to break out of that routine. My feelings toward the whole past relationship is no longer about it's a pity things didn't work out. It's now, smile because it happened. I found a whole lot more because it happened. I don't deny that I still treat him as a friend, but a friend who's kept at the back of my head, in a teenie weenie little corner of my heart, as I close this chapter with a smile. I've come to the point when I don't look back with tears in my eyes, nor a sad wrench of my heart that makes me just want to turn away and collect myself once more.
The dust has settled. For him and for me.
On a side note, I'm really glad I found you. One month and still counting. It has been quite a ride.
A question that's been ringing through my mind since a very long time ago. When it comes to become a play on the conscious and the subconscious mind, can we fault the subconscious mind? It's bewildering me, still.
The thing is, do I identify with that feeling? Do I require an answer to that? Do I already know the answer? Do you know the answer that I'm supposed to know but do not know?
Does coming into contact with familiar places, familiar activities, familiar faces, somewhat functions like our peripheral vision, registering in our subconscious mind, forcing us to dig up these melancholic feelings without us realising?
Or, is it a case of "I'll never get over you getting over me"?
I've thought it through and through, over and over, tossed and turned in bed, those words rolling about in my head. I suppose I've got to answer that for myself and to myself first.
For me, I'd say I've closed that chapter of my life. Looking back, not that I regret what I did or starting the relationship. I learnt from it, bringing what I learnt about myself into a new relationship. Perhaps, in a way, he taught me things about myself I never could have come to terms with by myself. Recalling the aftermath of the breakup, it was horrible. So horrible, I cringe just thinking about it. Yet, some good did come out of it. I came out of it stronger as a person, started loving and being in touch with myself and friends again, made new friends, lost my way and fumbled around for a quite awhile before finding my direction once more. The way out seemed clearer once I came to terms with the facts I had stubbornly ignored.
I was self-deluded and craving badly for attention. I was hating him. I was dying to move on. I was forcing myself to move on. I was all things negative. Emotions were an insane rollercoaster ride. One common advice I received was to throw myself into work to distract my thoughts. After watching all those lovey-dovey movies and shows, I suppose, that was what people normally do after a breakup. I wanted that too. One problem. I had no work to throw myself into. Instead, I threw myself into nurturing new friendships, repairing old friendships, focusing on other people's problems instead of my own. In a way, the constant act of pushing my limits and his limits, resulting in self-torture did help.
I gave up. I moved on. I became happier. I learnt how to smile once again. Finally, eating made sense to me. Someone I love alot told me this, "Start doing everything for yourself from now onwards."
The downside to all this, negativity started building up in me. I was afraid of history repeating itself. I was terrified of going through this cycle once again. I couldn't bring myself to love again. I started seeing things from Su's cynical point of view, "Since you know it's coming, why start it in the first place?"
Well, all this aside, I've really moved on. I've gotten over questioning and seeking answers long ago. Some things just do not require an explanation. He's just someone so familiar, yet so foreign. Without a doubt, it did take some time to break out of that routine. My feelings toward the whole past relationship is no longer about it's a pity things didn't work out. It's now, smile because it happened. I found a whole lot more because it happened. I don't deny that I still treat him as a friend, but a friend who's kept at the back of my head, in a teenie weenie little corner of my heart, as I close this chapter with a smile. I've come to the point when I don't look back with tears in my eyes, nor a sad wrench of my heart that makes me just want to turn away and collect myself once more.
The dust has settled. For him and for me.
On a side note, I'm really glad I found you. One month and still counting. It has been quite a ride.
Saturday, June 17, 2006
My last day: 16 June 2006
It's official. I've left the place I've was with for 9 months. Taking with me the relationships I've fostered, the things I've learnt, the experience gained, and so much more.
I recall an interview I went before, the interviewer questioned my employment duration with each company I was with, mostly not more than a year of service. I graduated in April 2005, officially in July 2005. Come to think about it, I've been working since November 2003 till now without a proper break.
With each termination of service with the various companies I was in, I learn a little more about myself and the so called "working world". I stepped into this crazy world of one's survival with not much of expectations, not knowing what to expect, not knowing what is expected of me.
Despite the reluctance in leaving this last job, it's something that's going to happen in a matter of time. Regardless of the short duration, it was enough. The relationships I've fostered I'll bring into the next phase, next chapter of my life. As the lessons I can learn comes to a standstill, I knew it was time to go.
I used to be unwilling to move on to new environments cos of the unfamiliarity that comes with it, starting the whole new learning process, building new work relationships, adapting new routines, so on and so forth.
People come and go. No matter how much you did, how well you did in your job, you're never indispensable. No one is indispensable.
That brings me to the next chapter, closing this chapter with a smile and memories sealed in time. It's time I move on to my next chapter, next job with a fresh burst of enthusiasm and eagerness. That's one day left to recollect myself, my thoughts, my emotions.
I recall an interview I went before, the interviewer questioned my employment duration with each company I was with, mostly not more than a year of service. I graduated in April 2005, officially in July 2005. Come to think about it, I've been working since November 2003 till now without a proper break.
With each termination of service with the various companies I was in, I learn a little more about myself and the so called "working world". I stepped into this crazy world of one's survival with not much of expectations, not knowing what to expect, not knowing what is expected of me.
Despite the reluctance in leaving this last job, it's something that's going to happen in a matter of time. Regardless of the short duration, it was enough. The relationships I've fostered I'll bring into the next phase, next chapter of my life. As the lessons I can learn comes to a standstill, I knew it was time to go.
I used to be unwilling to move on to new environments cos of the unfamiliarity that comes with it, starting the whole new learning process, building new work relationships, adapting new routines, so on and so forth.
People come and go. No matter how much you did, how well you did in your job, you're never indispensable. No one is indispensable.
That brings me to the next chapter, closing this chapter with a smile and memories sealed in time. It's time I move on to my next chapter, next job with a fresh burst of enthusiasm and eagerness. That's one day left to recollect myself, my thoughts, my emotions.
Thursday, June 08, 2006
From a distance...
If wishing upon a star could make really make the wish come true, I'd stay up all night to wish upon the stars I see. A wish to erase the hurt, the unhappiness. Another one to wish for the best, for you, for me, and for us.
I wonder, how I seem to you, the me you've come to know so far.
How much time exactly does one need to be sure of compatability? Perhaps, never.
People change, trees grow, flowers wilt.
"Nothing lasts forever, and we both know hearts will change."
This pursuit of self-indulgence, comfort, companionship, effort, hard work, commitment, and a whole lot more rolled together into one huge ball called love could either surge you right into the sky, or pin you down leaving you helpless and disillusioned.
Love is a big word. At least to me. It emcompasses a whole lot more than its superficial definition. The ties that come with it, the commitments it brings, it comes in a whole package with "fun, laughter, indulgence, euphoria and all things sweet and nice" in bold print and "possibility of hurt, pain, sorrow, confusion, denial, dependence" in fine print. Regardless whether one is aware of all these stated, we all step into this, willingly.
When I say "I love you", I mean it with all my heart. It means saying yes to all the terms and clauses enclosed. Talk is cheap. Yes, i totally agree. Yet, I can tell you a million truths, and you selectively choose to perceive them as untruths, where does that leave me? Am I to be labelled a liar? Am I to be labelled as being untruthful? Am I not true to this relationship?
Talk is cheap if you choose to perceive it to be so.
"A picture can paint a thousand words, so why can't I paint you? The words will never show, the you I've come to know."
Is talk still cheap now?
You decide the value and weightage of the words you listen. Listen, not hear.
If a man could be two places at one time,I'd be with you. Cos that's right where I want to be. Believe me when I say so.
I wonder, how I seem to you, the me you've come to know so far.
How much time exactly does one need to be sure of compatability? Perhaps, never.
People change, trees grow, flowers wilt.
"Nothing lasts forever, and we both know hearts will change."
This pursuit of self-indulgence, comfort, companionship, effort, hard work, commitment, and a whole lot more rolled together into one huge ball called love could either surge you right into the sky, or pin you down leaving you helpless and disillusioned.
Love is a big word. At least to me. It emcompasses a whole lot more than its superficial definition. The ties that come with it, the commitments it brings, it comes in a whole package with "fun, laughter, indulgence, euphoria and all things sweet and nice" in bold print and "possibility of hurt, pain, sorrow, confusion, denial, dependence" in fine print. Regardless whether one is aware of all these stated, we all step into this, willingly.
When I say "I love you", I mean it with all my heart. It means saying yes to all the terms and clauses enclosed. Talk is cheap. Yes, i totally agree. Yet, I can tell you a million truths, and you selectively choose to perceive them as untruths, where does that leave me? Am I to be labelled a liar? Am I to be labelled as being untruthful? Am I not true to this relationship?
Talk is cheap if you choose to perceive it to be so.
"A picture can paint a thousand words, so why can't I paint you? The words will never show, the you I've come to know."
Is talk still cheap now?
You decide the value and weightage of the words you listen. Listen, not hear.
If a man could be two places at one time,I'd be with you. Cos that's right where I want to be. Believe me when I say so.
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
we are family. but, what's your name?
I was never close with the cousins from my dad's side of the family. Well, almost. The one and only time I recall us being close was at my granddad's funeral. How ironic. His leaving brought us together, though not for long. That 3 days of sorrow, brought us together in a way that was just beyond words. We were truly like cousins. Unfortunately, after the wake was over, it was all lost too. The bond we had went into the crematorium with my granddad. Perhaps, at the very least, that was what my granddad wanted to us to be.
Since then, it has always been a once a year "gathering" for us all, with not more than 10 sentences exchanged. We probably can't identify the names to the faces we see. Even if we pass each other on the streets, we're just a "oh so familiar" face to each other, at the very most, a hint of smile as acknowledgement. Nothing more, nothing less. I've always believed that we don't speak much to each other cos of our age gaps. Then it hit me, I had a relationship with someone 11 years my senior, even older than some of them are. What basis do I have to claim that we can't communicate? All of us never had put in that extra effort to build the bond, or to even sit down and have a proper talk. There always had been that barrier between us.
Does it matter whether I have a cousin who's a lawyer, one who's a pilot, one who's a teacher, a distant one who's a singer and all? Does all these truly matter when it comes to family? I'm not proud of it. When it boils down to it, we're just passing strangers on the streets who happen to be related.
I've met them on the streets, a couple of times. We don't say hi, we don't smile. We don't even have each other's number. All I know is, that's my cousin I just saw. His/her name? "I think it's so-and-so. But I can't be sure." 21 years of my life. I can safely say for sure, we've not met more than a 100 times. How tragic.
So, is it better to have been close before and drifted apart, or is it better to have never been close before? A question to think about, a question I can't answer. The family tree we've filled up like 5 years ago, still remains on the same piece of paper it was written on. I wonder, if 10 years down the road, where will this piece of paper be.
What went wrong, where went wrong, I don't know. I stopped finding answers. It has all just become something we're all used to. Now, that's why the television is so very important during the Chinese New Year visits. It's our source of escape and excuse to be quiet. We all stay rooted in our seats and when the time comes to leave, we all breathe a huge sigh of relief.
Since then, it has always been a once a year "gathering" for us all, with not more than 10 sentences exchanged. We probably can't identify the names to the faces we see. Even if we pass each other on the streets, we're just a "oh so familiar" face to each other, at the very most, a hint of smile as acknowledgement. Nothing more, nothing less. I've always believed that we don't speak much to each other cos of our age gaps. Then it hit me, I had a relationship with someone 11 years my senior, even older than some of them are. What basis do I have to claim that we can't communicate? All of us never had put in that extra effort to build the bond, or to even sit down and have a proper talk. There always had been that barrier between us.
Does it matter whether I have a cousin who's a lawyer, one who's a pilot, one who's a teacher, a distant one who's a singer and all? Does all these truly matter when it comes to family? I'm not proud of it. When it boils down to it, we're just passing strangers on the streets who happen to be related.
I've met them on the streets, a couple of times. We don't say hi, we don't smile. We don't even have each other's number. All I know is, that's my cousin I just saw. His/her name? "I think it's so-and-so. But I can't be sure." 21 years of my life. I can safely say for sure, we've not met more than a 100 times. How tragic.
So, is it better to have been close before and drifted apart, or is it better to have never been close before? A question to think about, a question I can't answer. The family tree we've filled up like 5 years ago, still remains on the same piece of paper it was written on. I wonder, if 10 years down the road, where will this piece of paper be.
What went wrong, where went wrong, I don't know. I stopped finding answers. It has all just become something we're all used to. Now, that's why the television is so very important during the Chinese New Year visits. It's our source of escape and excuse to be quiet. We all stay rooted in our seats and when the time comes to leave, we all breathe a huge sigh of relief.
Melancholic smiles
There are times. Times when the melancholy and memories sets in and starts to eat up the determination and restraint built up the past few weeks. When I just happen to let my guard down and browse through photos of us, sms conversations and flashbacks. It hits me again, like the feeling of accidentally bruising a recovering wound. It will not hurt as much as it did the first time round, but nonetheless, it still does, but just a little. As the wound heals, these accidental bruising will just hurt less and less, and fade gradually over time. The wound will heal, and it is healing.
When I start thinking back, it simply feels like a bad case of deja vu. Something between reality and dreams. The kind of familiarity that leaves you bewildered and confused if it truly happened. Then, the more you think about it, the more it fades away and you start losing pieces of the familiarity. All you remember then, is the gist of it.
You stop wanting to talk about it, even when you start, you lose track of the events that happened and simply brush it off with a "It just wasn't right,". Perhaps, that's the last point before you truly heal. Its just a matter of time anyway.
You start telling yourself, it really wasn't meant to be.
Despite these, the lost love does leave impacts, subconsciously in you. I'm trying not to bring these uncertainties and distrust along with me. It's just harder for me to start a relationship now cos I've seen an ugly side. I'm just wary of being hurt the same way before. Now that I've let you go, it's time I truly let myself go.
I'm happy now. It's a whole new experience. Like how he puts it, our past experiences have enabled us to appreciate each other a whole lot more. Thanks for everything, dear.
When I start thinking back, it simply feels like a bad case of deja vu. Something between reality and dreams. The kind of familiarity that leaves you bewildered and confused if it truly happened. Then, the more you think about it, the more it fades away and you start losing pieces of the familiarity. All you remember then, is the gist of it.
You stop wanting to talk about it, even when you start, you lose track of the events that happened and simply brush it off with a "It just wasn't right,". Perhaps, that's the last point before you truly heal. Its just a matter of time anyway.
You start telling yourself, it really wasn't meant to be.
Despite these, the lost love does leave impacts, subconsciously in you. I'm trying not to bring these uncertainties and distrust along with me. It's just harder for me to start a relationship now cos I've seen an ugly side. I'm just wary of being hurt the same way before. Now that I've let you go, it's time I truly let myself go.
I'm happy now. It's a whole new experience. Like how he puts it, our past experiences have enabled us to appreciate each other a whole lot more. Thanks for everything, dear.
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