Proposing with rocks

It's pretty hilarious in a way.

This morning started off with some good news about Lisa's flight being delayed and won't be back till we're gone for the day. That brought some sparkle to our day.

So Cathleen and I were talking about boyfriends proposing. Sparked off by her being totally worried that her boyfriend is going to propose to her, cos he will, she just has no idea when. The story is, she loves him to bits and they've been together for a couple of years, living together in this land that he worships, and she's not sure whether she wants to live the rest of her life with him, yada yada.

We drifted off to Sex in the City episodes, where Carrie found this hideous ring her boyfriend was going to use to propose to her, which Miranda helped to choose. As we were saying, we'd be stuck if we were proposed to with an UGLY ring. Like how her friend's guy proposed with his grandmother's ring, with a freaking huge diamond, yet it was incredibly hideous. She was so stuck with it cos well, it's his grandmother's?

Thus, we concluded we'd rather have a small yet beautiful ring, instead of a huge yet ugly ring. In fact, I've always had a thing against big diamonds. Call me nuts, but yeah, I've got a thing against diamond studded rings. I think they look too cluttered.

Come to think of it, I've got a thing against getting flowers too. I sometimes suspect, I'm not really a girl inside.

Cathleen's a huge advocate of women's rights and all. It's interesting how she sees the conventional white, virginal wedding gown with puffy sleeves, making brides look like a doll demeaning to women.

I can see and feel the war brewing when her guy proposes. Pigs in a blanket at a huge All American wedding VS a classy elegant yet simple affair with salads and snazzy finger food?

On a side note, being nice may not get you everywhere, but apparently, being nice does get you away with things.

There goes my morning, well spent. Talking about boyfriends, ex-boyfriends, wedding rings, Sex in the City, nice lawyers who think everyone else is stupid and the culture Down Under.

My work week is, unofficially over.

Yes, I can't save the world.

.....as much as I try.. I'm still fucking pissed.

I have half a mind to scream the house down. The other half to ignore everything.

I don't own anyone, neither do I owe anyone anything. The only actions I have to account for are my own. Don't lump whoever's deeds to mine, cos I don't have that kind of power to control, nor to manipulate.

Pushing no blame to anyone, I just need to be treated as a separate entity, cos that's what I am.

I didn't blow based on one sole fact, but of incidents and emotions too complex and too intricate to be weaved into words. The fatigue's not unknown, neither is it within my control. It's not as simple as yielding to que sera sera.

"It's not your problem," they say.

I'm making it mine, cos you mean so much I want you to have the very very best of it all.


Sometimes, just sometimes, I wish, I'm not me.

Babes, I NEED a hug, Chevrons and that little space of my own. I want to be in that little space on the roof, where everything seems so unimportant and minute. Yes, I can't worry for the world. Perhaps, even in this little world of mine, not everything can be made right. Could they be wrong for a right reason?

I want to be evil, for once. This time, I truly am drained, right to the toes of my feet. I'm tired of providing the answers, I'm tired of being the shoulder to cry on, the listening ear, of being the constant in everyone else's life. Where's my shoulder? Where's my listening ear? Where's the constant for me to follow?

Somehow, when I start edging the border to being in the centre of attention, the wrong one seeks me out. But, I need that tiny bit of attention once in a while, to remind myself of my own existence, and not in the shadow of everyone else's spotlight.

I am real, after all. Even machines break down. Who knows, I might just disappear into thin air some time.

Not now perhaps. Thank you my lovelies, for making everything less significant and me more significant. I'll drop by your shop tomorrow for a hug and say goodbye to your shop for the last time.

Keeping the faith.

There's this shell I use to hide, away from the glaring stares and haunting chants.

It doesn't hurt when you don't feel. It probably won't hurt as much if you're not aware of it happening. But what it doesn't shield, is the actual fact of the hurt happening. The actual resentment of things you don't want happening. The evil stares of that creature that lurks in the dark, though unseen, it's pure existance is overbearing.

The long withheld belief is now put to the extreme test. A matter of whether I believe in it enough to want to make things change, or silently await its arrival. Either way, the consequences are daring me in the face to will me to yield.

Be it black, white or grey, I will hang on to the faith and grasp at every chance of a miracle.

"Look what you've done, you've made a fool out of everyone..."

You know what?

I don't really want to know what's going on in there. I don't care the least bit.

I love the flowers on my side. The grass isn't greener as it always seems to be.

One last cigarette.

I've come to realise...

It wasn't that I wasn't happy with you.

It's just that....





I'm happier without you.

Traumatised!

Some incredibly traumatising photos..... oh well, for old times' sake! I know I'm going to regret this!

sweetie.

You know something? I miss you too. I didn't think it was possible after the long absence.

All of a sudden, the episode seemed like it happened only yesterday.

I need your healing messages once again.

Mercy.

I've always believed in euthanasia. It's not ethically, morally or whatsoever correct to take charge of someone else's life into your own hands, I agree. What if you know that that's going to take all the suffering out of that person you love, lying there, with no control over anything at all?

If I'm infiltrated with a dozen illnesses, been through countless operations, surviving in a sea of colourful pills, or... if it takes a machine to keep me breathing and my heart pumping, then, please do me a favour and not hang on.

It's not just a grey area, but one of fog and mist and all things bleak.

Take mercy on me, and shut the power off.

Nobody's there.

You could be screaming your head off with joy amongst a sea of bobbing heads, and no one gives you a second glance.

You don't really care, cos the very incident that sparked that behaviour meant the world to you, something you worked so hard for, for far too long and far too hard.

This part of my life...this tiny part right here, I call it "happyness".

Yes, spelt with a 'y', just cos...I like it so.

With all those unpleasantness drifting out of my system, all's good once again. Sometimes, playing by the rules and roles we ought to be in is so much healthier.

To my dear friends who are going through a bad patch right now, stay firm and stick it out.

I'm here. Anytime and anywhere. Just think of how you can laugh all these off once its over, and that very moment is just round the next corner, or perhaps 2 more corners, but it is there. It really is.

To the girl we hold so dear...

Perhaps, we're all out of your system now, but there's a tiny part of you that wants it all to come back. At least, that's what I'd like to think. We grew up together, we grew up fine. Yet, for so long, you've been there and we've been here. Are we never going to take that step out? Are we just hanging around in our spaces?

I have no idea what and how much my words or our words mean to you right now. With every gathering, a glimpse of hope hangs in the air that you'll be there. Have we gotten used to your absence? I guess so.

Have we given up on having you around? No we haven't and we won't.

The short bitching session felt like you never left. You said you'd come but you didn't, but it's okay.

Just holler whenever you need us, all right babe? Love ya.

Waiting...

Shuffling around last new year's.

Lying in bed, unable to speak, half paralysed this new year's.

I touched her and she smiled, unwilling to let go, yet clinging to hold on with hands she can't command.

Unable to move anymore now, stricken with pain, or is it when paralysis sets in, you feel nothing at all?



Told to wait...for the time she lets go.

Is this way the lesser evil, for her, or for us? Perhaps both.