I was blind, but now I see, but perhaps too late.. :.

Last night, I got a wake up call. There was no telephone ringing, or a shake to the shoulder, but a flash of final moments. It was God calling to me, his lost child, the wayward one, telling me to come back to the path I had strayed so far from.

As I stood in the blinking light, and I breathed, a solemn, almost relieved breath, I knew that this was it. This was my last call, and if I didn’t listen, I would be lost forever.

I know now three things:( a) I am not immortal (b) I cannot keep running, hiding and ducking from my mistakes forever (c) everything and everyone I needed was right there, and I just never realised it.

I escaped with my life, last night. From what, I’d rather not say. I don’t want to dismiss it easily, but rather publicise another mistake that I will obviously never learn from, I’d rather keep it to myself and carry it in my heart as a reminder of who I was. I am definitely a much different person today, than I was last night.

I guess I don’t learn unless something shocks me into reality. The vivid, vibrant world I was living in was just an illusion, and last night, it snapped in two, revealing in the harsh light of day, that everything I had been doing/living so far was just an escape.

I am sorry, but I am also grateful.

My eyes are wide open, and damn, it’s bright. My mind is clear, and it’s strange and beautiful. Though I’ll be in the doghouse for a long while,but it means that there are people who love me and care for me enough to put me there.

For now, I have to put aside my dreams and wishes, until I can truly stand on my own two feet again. There are other things I have to think about before I can once more be a dream chaser, but perhaps, it’s for the better, because maybe by then, I will have better insight and wisdom, and I won’t be just chasing the dream, I’ll be living it.

Last night though, someone whom I had taken for granted stepped into the light. And I finally saw him for who he truly is. And though, I had locked away my heart in reserve for someone else, it somehow broke free from it’s chains and and landed in his hands. We stood there, over the wreckage of my once carefree life, and he held me close and tightly, and I knew that not only I was safe, but I was cared for. As we conversed into the wee hours of the night, our thoughts no longer guarded, our opinions honest, and most importantly, my mind open, I realised that perhaps all this while, I had been chasing things, too far and too hard, that I completely forgot all the things that were right in front of me.

For now, I think I must retreat back into the maze which I had lost myself in, and find my way back. Start at the beginning and instead of just trying to find the center, I have to find my way out.

I close my eyes, and as shaky and frightening the memory of last night is, I can feel : hands that reached out to help me stand, arms that held me to tell me I was alive and safe, a gentle kiss that comforted, angry words that meant someone cared, but above all, shaky breath that let me know I was alive, and that God still loved me and wanted me back in his fold.

So friends, and dear readers, I don’t know if this will be my last entry here, or if it’s the last entry for now, or the last entry for this year. Everything now is entirely up in the air. I’ve been given a second chance at a life I don’t deserve, but from now on I am grateful for. I need to do more than the superficial soul searching, I need to dig deep and find myself again and climb up from the dark and evil pit I threw myself in.

But let me just say this, if anything, it definitely happened for my own good. And the fact that it did in December, perhaps was a reminder that yes, you’re reaching the end of the year, the end of a cycle, and also the start of a new one. I cannot honestly say that from now on I am going to a pious, better person, but only that I am going to change things for myself.

Friends, don’t look for me for now. I’ll find you when I’m ready. Readers, both old and new, thank you for actually taking the time to read any and all rubbish that I had to share in my life, and especially to PTB (I’ll be in touch) and Jasmine, D and all other who have been kind enough to leave a comment and let me know that my humble, yet sometimes arrogant words were duly appreciated.

To all, Selamat Hari Raya Aidiladha, Happy Hannukah, Merry Christmas, Happy New Year and Happy New Life. I hope that when I decide to return, that perhaps my stories will be richer, fuller and more colourful. Thank you for your company in the search for serenity. I thought I had found mine, and it’s obvious that I haven’t. And when I start anew, I hope you will join me again.

To the one I wasn’t looking for but I have now found, I’m so happy that I’m starting anew, and this time the journey is with you.

One night a week :.

I think we should just declare one night a week where everyone in the world should be bonking. Everyone that’s the age of legal consent anyway.

Think about it, apparently, there are more and more recent studies that state the benefits of regular SAFE sex, like:

Lower mortality rates.

Reduced risk of prostate cancer.

Improves posture.

Boosts self esteem.

Makes a person feel younger.

Firms tummy and buttocks.

Keeps spouses connected emotionally.

Offers pain-relief.

Gives people a positive attitude on life.

Reduced risk of heart disease.

Makes a person more calm.

Improves fitness level.

Makes a person less irritable.

Among other things.

You bet your bunions, regular sex can be beneficial. So the world should just declare one night a week (I’m favouring Saturday) as the designated night to mate. Male singles form a line to the left. Female singles, pinch the butt of the guy you fancy. First fingers on the guy gets the ass for the night.

Yes, one night a week where we won’t be lonely or horny, the world gets a break from negativity and the world slows down into one big cataclysmic orgasm. Even thinking about the entire thing gets me hot under the collar. Like I wasn’t there already anyway.

It’s just a crush… :.

… so why am I squee-ing with glee from seeing his name in my inbox?

Last week, while conducting a course out of office, I met a really good bunch of interesting people. The good part was they were my age, and I made a lot of new friends. The best part, I met someone who gives me butterflies when he smiles at me.

Initially, I thought he was just the joker, the clown of the group. The comic who didn’t take anything seriously. But after he smiled at me for the 10th time, and gave me a compliment which he meant from his eyes, I felt so smitten.

I felt like a teenager in high school again, internally sighing when he said my name, quivering with excitement if he paid attention to me, and trying not to blush when he winked at me from across the room during a lecture.

Yes, I confess to taking pictures of his butt, because it was just as delightful as the rest of him.

I found excuses to wander over to his table, to hang around, and stay close, but also had to keep myself at a distance, because I was there with him in a professional capacity. But that didn’t stop me from wanting something so much more from our interaction.

There was no denying our flirtation, I think everyone else knew. But I guess, maybe the attraction wasn’t strong enough to warrant something more forward. Or perhaps there was that heavy blanket of professionalism that hung over our heads.  We parted as friends, and with a sad smile on my face, because I wondered if I ever would see him or hear from him again.

My heart flutters when I read the friendly e-mail, sent in the late hours of the afternoon, that read with as much personality and friendliness as if he were addressing me in person. With each smiley, I can imagine that cute, friendly face, with the mischievous smile that makes me want to melt like chocolate on a hot sidewalk. And I think I can hear his voice in my head.

It’s just a crush… I hope.

Love, marriage and other half-truths :.

Love and marriage, love and marriage,
Go together like a horse and carriage..

Wasn’t that how the theme song of “Married with Children..” That was a funny show. I loved how dysfuctional that family was.

Okay, enough fluff.

Marriage, that’s the buzzword these days. No matter where I am, that word inevitably pops up in conversation, bringing with it the good, the bad and the ugly. Mostly the latter reaches my ears though. And it makes me more determined to enjoy my life and be true to me before I settle down.

I don’t have to look far for examples of marriages that don’t work. In all honesty, my parents marriage has hardly been all hearts and roses the past 7 years. There are times, I don’t know, I just want to ask my parents to go and get the hell divorced because I am so sick and tired of living day to day in a warzone. There are times I’ve had to choose sides, and it kills me on the inside, because as much as I am Daddy’s little girl, I love my mom too. But little miracles happen, and they stay together another day. Often I do wonder why they do, is it because they love each other, or they’re just too old to live without each other?

Excuse my cynicism when I illustrate with another point. I’ve got friends in marriages who are so unhappy, they have to find other pursuits. Loveless marriages, the only glue keeping it together are either children or family pressure. Some are just with their significant other because they’re too afraid that if they leave, they may just end up alone. And the thing is, they pop up so often, you wonder if there are any ‘real’ marriages left in the world?

Like anyone and everyone else, I am myself afraid to be alone. I feel like there’s this missing part of me because I long for someone to share my life with, give all of my heart and soul; full and complete. It’s not that my life is lacking because I don’t have someone, but it would be more richer with someone in it.

But I guess I’d rather be alone than be in a loveless marriage, bitter and angry at my husband, and forced to pursue extramarital affairs just to keep myself sane.

Typical scorpio, it’s either all or nothing, either one of two extremes and never in between.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not pooh-poohing the whole institution of marriage. I do have illusions and dreams of adjusting my husband’s tie before he goes to work, sitting by the sink as I watch him shave, having all out spats and making up on the kitchen floor later. But I think I’d rather wait it out and find someone who I can be happy with the rest of my life.

Maybe I ask for too much. Yes, I’d love a guy with Hayden Christensen’s brooding looks, or Jake Gyllenhaal’s dark, blue eyed gorgeousness.. But you don’t have to be hot or cute to get me. I’ve said before “Romance my mind and you have my heart,” I’d love someone who has much to teach me and open my eyes. But by the same token, he should be ready to learn from me, seek adventure and love life. I’d enjoy the give and take of good intellectual conversation for the rest of my life. Yes, and he should be tolerant enough of my ‘blonde moments’ and my demanding personality.

Back in August, I was sitting with Gray Eyes in ‘The Dead Poet’s Society’ and he was listening raptly to what I was saying, and wasn’t even shocked when I revealed a little of my wild side. I could live that afternoon ala ‘Groundhog Day’ forever, because I saw in his eyes, not just wisdom from living a lot longer than I have, and living on the other side of the world I have known, but, this great sense of eagerness to listen and learn to what I have to say. When I was telling him about how engagements go in Brunei, (‘The Village’, our inside joke), he just so earnestly wanted to know more.

I want that from a guy, that you never stop getting to know me. The same way I’ll continually discover new things about you everyday, even if it’s the fact that you have this aim to collect 100 plastic lobsters from a particular restaurant on the Upper East Side that gives you one everytime you eat a lobster there.

I was never a ‘sweet kind of romance’ girl. Don’t give me roses, give me gerberas. And call them by the nickname I give them. I don’t want cute bears with hearts, give me a Stitch or Yoda doll. You don’t need to sing me “I will always love you”, sing to me your favourite song of all time badly on karaoke. Even if it’s Aqua’s Barbie Girl. Give me a thousand memories, rather than one super romantic moment.

I in turn, will probably laugh at you if you accidentally swallow the ring while drinking the champagne it’s in. And then I’ll help you by performing the Heimlich maneuver when you’ve almost turned purple.

I don’t care if ends up the most spontaneous yet manky ‘Britney’ quickie wedding in Vegas with the worst looking ‘Fat Elvis’ presiding. Janji saja sayang selamanya. (Just promise you’ll love me forever.)

No, I don’t want to be unhappy in a marriage because I said yes to the wrong guy, because I had an ‘accident’, because I just didn’t want to be alone.

And I could have very much made that mistake earlier this year, with Zz. I’m glad that my reluctant heart hung in there as long as it did, and didn’t fall for all the songs of romance and perfect companionship. No. It wanted the right love, and it wasn’t going to settle for anything less.

If anything, all of these words that have been burning my ears have made me realise, I’m going to wait for the right one. Not Prince Charming, but the guy who will understand that his geek wife will get dressed up in cosplay and drag him around to Sci-fi conventions.

It’s better to wait than regret. I don’t want the only regret in my life to be the biggest burden for the rest of it.

One family of cousins all got married in their 30’s, and they seem to have done alright for themselves. Even though they were the talk of the family, and the subject of clucking tongues for the longest time, they decided they were going to do the right thing and wait. And wait they did, they’re all happy, with no pressure to spawn future progeny anytime soon, all taking it at their sweet pace.

And under the very same roof as one dysfuctional marriage, a life’s journey between two kindred souls has begun and blossoms more with each passing day. I talk, of course, about my sister and her wonderful husband. The very same people who gave me a song and dance routine for my birthday, complete with excited, high pitched singing. Their love story started a long time ago back in High School, but unlike High School sweethearts, they didn’t get together until later. No, the romance in their story comes from a single page, with a pencil drawn sketch of a rose.

When my sister first left for the UK, her classmate handed her a letter of several pages, wishing her luck, and so much more. One of those pages contained that hand-pencilled sketch, which my sister kept along with the letter.

Several years away studying, and a VERY BAD BOYFRIEND later, these two souls would be reunited as friends, and start spending more and more time together. And last year, they got married, despite initial parental resistance, and differences in education and status, which in the end, truly didn’t matter.

Today, that pencil sketch is framed and hangs in their bedroom, as testament to a love that started long ago, but didn’t blossom until late. The rose has become their logo, and their love just evermore grows.

I will not get caught up in the excitement and wanting of all engagements and marriages around me. I will not be brainwashed by the cutest babies in the world, and googley eyed couples. I will not envy the happiness of my friends as they take the next steps towards the rest of their lives. My time will come.

But I reserve the right to be Bridezilla, and squee myself hoarse when the time does come. And until it does, I will wait.

No Anonymity :.

Not that it just occurred to me, but two separate incidents in the last couple of days made me think about how I can’t just be just anyone walking down the street or collecting my mail at the post office.

A couple of days ago when I was collecting my parcel at the office, the lady customs officer who was examining my parcel took one long look at me, and asked directly, “Are you so and so’s granddaughter?” Though I was taken aback at how she could recognise me from my family tree no less, I answered yes. Then she proceeded to question me about my parents. Though slightly annoyed, all I could do was smile, and answer questions about my mother and my grandmother, wishing that she would hurry it up and I could leave and examine my goodies in the privacy of my car.

Today, I was at one of my favourite local Indian, waiting for my egg bread, when I thought I heard my father’s name being mentioned. Then I also heard my dad’s former workplace  said too. I groaned inwardly, as the table I was standing close by to was probably either a bunch of distant relatives or my dad’s friends. Just when I thought they could say all they could, the man who had been talking mentioned that I was probably the unmarried one. I was so grateful that my food was ready and I could flee quickly, and walked off as fast as I could in my baju kurung.

My parents are good people, and lots of people know them, this I don’t mind. But it kinda puts me off when the conversation starts involving me. Here, as I’ve said before, you’re never your own person, you’re always somebody’s daughter, granddaughter, etc. I miss London where I was so anonymous, I could walk down  the street in my jammies and fuzzy slippers (Edgware Road, late one summer’s night, I was desperate and hungry and didn’t give a damn) and no one gave a fcuk or knew who I was. Hell, I once ran around the London Eye on New Years in a teeny tiny skirt, a big old parka, and heels.. randomly hugging people and wishing them “Happy New Year..” and the next morning (late afternoon, really) I didn’t have to worry about my conduct or clothing making the rounds on the BGN (Bruneian Gossip Network).

I guess really you could blame the fact that there’s nothing to do here except eat and gossip, and not necessarily in that order. *sigh*

I can’t wait to move to a faraway land where being someone’s daughter doesn’t matter.

Lib(er)ation at a price :.

The father gave me a look of pure disappointment as I walked in at the not-so-ungodly hour of 8.15pm. I pretend I don’t care, but I really do. It’s just the daughter in me, wanting not to disappoint and play it dutiful. But that’s not really me, so I brushed off the guilt and ran upstairs to continue the ‘party of one.’

Despite my best smile, and the thought of the party tomorrow, I can’t help but sit and cry and miss my Gray Eyes. He’s working hard during Thanksgiving. I know it’s for me. I wish that I would wake up one of these days and not be alone, that I’d wake up hearing his soft breath by my ear, and feeling the fuzzyness of his beard caressing my face. Even though I hate winter with a vengance, I want to wake up to a cold New York morning with Gray Eyes, and go out with him grab H&H bagels, and walk leisurely in the freezing cold snuggled in his arms.

Then I think about everything I would have to sacrifice to be with him. My family, friends, and perhaps the country of my birth which I long to raise my children in. Though nothing prepares me for that.. I don’t think I could live a life of loneliness.  I would sacrifice it all in the name of love. Not just love though.. I’d sacrifice it all, just to live a life so free.

And as the days go by, and I get closer to that date I so long for. Much fear, anticipation, hope and courage fill my heart. I’m like a soldier readying for war, you can prepare all you like, but nothing could ever really prepare you for the true horrors about to be faced.

When that date comes, I’ll know if I cease to be a daughter. And no matter how the decision goes, I’ll have to live with it.

All in the name of living a life you want to lead, and not the life chosen for you.

I’m not selfish. I just want to be me.

Catching Up – Small Bytes:.

Whoa, Wednesday crept up on me unawares.. I guess I’ve been partying too hard. The date of doom has come and gone, my  emotional spiral has finally stabilised and I had the best damn birthday weekend ever. I’ll blog about that on a later date, I suppose.

Today is my Brother-in-law’s birthday. The quiet unassuming guy who will break out into song with his wife. I think he and my sister are a pair and a half..

My strange bruises are slowly disappearing. I have these two odd bruises, one on the upper wrist/lower thumb area of my right hand, and the other in the fleshy lower part of my left arm. Very odd. They are just in such odd places, that I can’t help but think about where I got them.

A couple of items I ordered from eBay ages ago have finally arrived. My magic moisturiser and a couple of DVDs. I’m still waiting on my hair products from the U.S and the Transformers posters for my brother’s birthday. His birthday was back in September. Can’t blame the post office though, because if it hasn’t arrived there yet, obviously I can’t collect it.

Last night, I went with Green to meet Doris to collect my ring and oogle jewelry. I bought a couple of other pieces that I’m so in love with, a butterfly pendant and a pair of pink star earrings. I’m really hoping that Doris can order the shamrock earrings for me. I wish I had bought them at the BCL event a couple of weeks ago. I’m having the ring resized, and a necklace loop made for the pendant at a silversmith. I hope it won’t cost a bomb.

I find myself missing a couple of people who are not so far away. I miss my little moments with them. Is it because that I’ve had so many of these that now I’m being greedy and wanting more? All I know is, all these little moments fan the flames, and I feel so alive because of it.

I just want to run around and feel.

A christmas… snippet?.. :.

Ice and snowflakes falling everywhere…
Tiny crystals shining in her hair
Mouse in hand, she stood waiting
Heart beating fast, anticipating,
But when she looked he wasn’t even anywhere.

Phew :.

Yesterday was quite an adventure and a half. After a really awful morning which I couldn’t get my head together at all.. I decided to fcuk it all, and go for a very spontaneous road trip to Seria. Gay Husband D-leng, came along for company and to give me directions, I was so ‘siuk sendiri’, singing in the car and just ‘layaning’ every whim. Because sometimes you just gotta do that.

I honestly don’t know what compelled me to want to drive across the country, just to go to Naafi, a supermarket of sorts in the British Garrison in Seria. But sometimes, you just gotta drive, far and fast. Serenity had her work cut out for her, certainly, since I had to hurry back. But it felt good to be somewhere different, even if it is in the same country. I’m not familiar with Seria, so I was looking at it with quite fresh eyes. The people there say it’s too quiet. I found it quite calming. It just reminded me about how much I need to get away from the toxic atmosphere of home.

I went over to D’s again to hang with the gang, which was a great respite. I loved just having girl time, playing cards and chatting. Seriously, ever since I taught D-leng and J-leng to play Big Two, they’ve been playing like crazy. But it’s cool, I was in that phase once. Except I was so obsessed with the game, I ended up playing triple games myself. My favourite playing partners are in London for now, so it’s nice to have some new people to play with, especially those that really challenge my game.

I’ve noticed, (actually, I know) that my moods have been more or less… psycho? And I’m taking it out on my friends. I really don’t like myself at this point in time. I find myself emoting first, thinking later, and regretting it often. I’m so not in control of things right now. I can only keep my fingers crossed and hope for the best, I suppose. My famous last words are probably “I have a plan,” and as always I do. Executing this one will be a feat and a half though, and it may just change not only the course of my life, but affect my relationship with my family, for better or for worse.

Meanwhile, my little distraction keeps surprising me. Some pleasant, some I find odd, but mostly piqued my curiosity. It’s easier to wake up with a smile when you have something to look forward to. Little encounters that keep the body warm, which in turn, keeps the heart warm, and hope alive. It’s a little callous to use someone else to keep the heart warm for someone else, but we both know the status quo, and it’s fine with both of us. And I don’t have to worry about getting my heart stepped on, used up and spat out. No, I’ve had more than my share of that, and I think I’ve tortured my heart enough in my own short lifetime.

So yesterday was emotional, journeying, amazing and fun. And I wouldn’t change any a second of it.

Fuss/No Fuss :.

This week there’s a whole slew of birthday babies. With mine right around the corner, I’ve more or less started the downward emotional spiral.

I’ve really tried to just keep my standards low, and not expect anything this year. No. If it sucks, it sucks, if it rocks, it rocks.

It’s of little consequence anymore, because the older I get anyway, things don’t change. I’m still expected to be home early, blah, blah, blah, staying under the thumb of my over protective parents, and do exactly as they say.

I’m going to keep my excitement for the bigger picture. You know, that city with the bright lights? Yeah. There’s this plan forming slowly in my head. It’s the only way to make my dream come true.

So Saturday, I’m just going to have dinner out with Green, that’s fine, as long as I get my lamb and mint jelly, then I’m a happy bunny. Think I might just straighten my hair this Saturday too.. the roots are beginning to annoy me. I don’t want to get to the point where it gets on my nerves.

Someone was asking me why I don’t want to big up my birthday.. Let me put in this way, in the scheme of things, were I that important, the birthday would be big, no matter what. So I guess consequentially, I’m not really that important. And besides, I can forget about the sycophants, and control freaks, and non-friends when I move. Period. I’ve got so much to worry about personally, that sometimes, things like your birthday aren’t just really that important anymore. It’s more important to get out and get free now. I’m just tired of other people’s whims and being the so-called ‘burden’ in peoples lives.

If you wanna give me something, give me freedom.

I don’t change lives with enigmatic speaking and wise words, I don’t save people from falling buildings and car accidents.. Sometimes, all it feels like is that the only reason I’m here is to prop up my parents when they need someone to look after them, and give the rest of Brunei fodder to talk about.

No.

That’s not my life. My spirit was too free, too wild, too untamed to ever live here in a half non-existence. I’m not afraid. I am not afraid to work from the ground up to build a life for myself. A life that I really, really want. A life where I’m not just someone’s sister or daughter, where I’m not 2nd place, where I’m not supposedly causing grief, or crying everyday on the inside. To strike out on your own. It’s almost unheard of here.
No matter how old you are, you’re still someone’s child here. People ask, “Anak siapa?”, and continually blame parents for current and future transgressions. I want to be in a place, where people see you, not your parents, where my credibility doesn’t stand because I’m this person’s daughter.

Okay, I’m tired and I’m angry, and I could probably go on forever, but I won’t.

Dear parents,

If you love me, set me free.

Love,

Your wayward, independent, free-spirited daughter.

Maybe it’s the music.. :.

Maybe it’s the music.. Maybe it’s that I’ve fallen in love with life all over again.. Or maybe it’s because I’m watching wonderful beautiful romances bloom in the gardens of my friends..

I’ve been listening to Gipsy Kings for most of today and over the weekend. The music makes me get up and dance, and fortunately, I have plenty of room to shake my booty like an idiot..  If I had a partner, I’d cause a lot of damage.

I was having a crazy daydream, about visiting a friend in Egypt, and we’d take off to Italy or Spain, and dance in the cobblestone streets.

That would be cool. The other would be to have a party at my house, and dancing to the Gipsy Kings.

I wonder where my wandering brain will take me next.. : )

Italian Memories :.

I was cooking my infamous secret recipe “Coronary” lasagna today, and as I was making the cheese sauce, I couldn’t help but smile as the memories of cooking in a danky kitchen in a London flat on a chilly night.

The great secret to the lasagna, is that the recipe is not mine. It was Leo’s, a cute guy with dark hair and blue eyes, whom I was sure had Italian in his blood. His temper was as fiery and fiesty as his cooking. And whoa, could that boy cook. He was as passionate about food as he was in the bedroom, and that’s all I’ll say.

He tried to teach me to chop onions and garlic (which I never do anyway), cook decent eggs, prepare pasta, put together a mean rissotto that would not only feed your soul, but comfort it through the harsh winter nights in London. He showed me that when you cook, passion and especially, love had to go in every drop of the dish, and it turns out amazing. (Seriously, his eggs florentine were to die for.)

He’d boss me around in his kitchen, as if I was his sous chef, and we’d always argue, me about how I could not cook and would not cook, and him usually about how since I was eating, I was helping. No matter how loud and raucous the fights were, we’d always end up staring each other down at the dinner table, eating richly and luciously, and retiring to burn all the calories.

It was a short lived affair that ended quite as passionately and loud as when he cooked. Leo did teach me a few things, a few secrets that I’m keeping ’til I teach them to my own daughter. If she should have one skill, let it be the ability to make the most amazing lasagna. She’d at least be in no shortage of Italian men wanting to marry her.

The recipe is still under wraps, in case you were wondering.

And if you’re thinking of locating Leo, I’m not helping you in that department either.

I’m 15, not 25 :.

For some reason, I felt like a total teenager tonight. Blonde and bizarrely happy, as if the rest of my world was not falling around my ears.

Maybe it was the company I needed. Maybe it was the fact that I’ve been holding my breath the last couple of days wondering. Maybe it’s because today, I finally got an answer.

Even though I knew that answer a long time ago. But to look into someone’s eyes intimately and know the truth where you stand, you can breath a sigh of relief and really not wonder anymore. Months ago, I walked away, cutting my losses, and set my mind free. Today, I set the rest of my spirit free.

I confess to that tiny, tiny grain of hope that lay somewhere deep in my heart that wanted something to be there. But it wasn’t.

What confirmed the rest was the naive attitude towards all things, perhaps ignorant? Don’t pretend to understand my life, or try to be condescending. Lecturing me about right or wrong?

Lady, I have seen shit that would scorch the hair off your balls.

I have made it through enough personal hell to know my fucking consequences.

Karma? You don’t know diddly squat. Karma owes me big time.

My fucking point? Maybe there is none. I was looking at a mere shadow of a person today. One who didn’t venture beyond their own boundaries. And will always see a line and the sign that says “Do not cross.”

I’m not that kind of person. I know I venture where angels fear to tread. And sometimes, I take too many risks. But if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be standing today, I would have long passed from this world by my own hand.

Some people were made stronger than others. I’d like to think I’m one of those. I’ve said this before, and I’ll say it again, I’ve forged my own path, I dared not to follow convention. And I don’t regret it.

After the anger passed, I started feeling sorry for that shadow of a person. I did honestly want to take them by the hand and say, “Go out and live before it’s too late.” But I smiled, said nothing, and let them go on their merry way.

Funny thing about life is, when we were born, we were born with all eyes open. And along the way, some decided to close their mind’s eye, and in effect, close their heart and their souls to other experiences. The choice varies from person to person. My choice is obvious. Their choice is theirs, and as much as I want to grab them, shake them and tell them… whatever, it’s their choice, and I have to.. abide by it, even though I don’t respect it in the least.

I’ll go have my fun. I will enjoy myself, live life to the full, make mistakes, stumble and fall, brush myself off, pick myself up and keep doing what I feel/need/want to do. I am a more fulfilled person, and I know I have touched more than a few lives. And I know so many interesting and wonderful people. Any butt-kissing, soul-sucking, egotistical, selfish, moronic, holier-than-thou fucking wannabes… you can go sit in your little invisi-square and stay there. Put your personal velvet rope up, and limit yourself to that small piece of “What you want to know and nothing else.” Me and my amazing, personally enriched, fulfilled, open-minded, beautiful and loving friends, we will take over the world.

In fact, the world is already ours.. you’ve just been too busy not knowing.

Shadow Person. Thank you for today, everything before and goodbye. You go your way, and I’ll go mine.

My wonderful friends, old and new, I love you. Thank you for accepting who I am, bits, pieces, baggage and all.

God, thank you for all your blessings, for the courage and strength you have given me, for carrying me when I felt I had none, for your faith in your wayward child, and pointing my compass, even when I have ventured far from your way.

To the one, whoever you are, thank you for loving me. It’s all I ever wanted.

And to the someone who’s momentarily chasing my demons and shadows away, making it not such a lonely place to be in right now, I don’t have words, but the smile on my face, the happiness in my heart, and the twinkle in my eye says everything.

In ten days, I hope all this wisdom is still intact. Who knows.

Anyway, I started this off light, I’ll try and finish it light.

I had fun today. I went shopping with one of my best friends. I hung out with some fun friends. I got to see someone I really missed. I have cute tikuses. I bought more make-up on eBay. I kissed two people today.

Two cute mice, see how they run! :.

I just the most adorable mices in the world! Green took me to OGH during lunch time to check out the BCL sale.. Lots and lots of gorgeous stuff.. basically, I just dipped my hand in my purse and threw money at people there..

But I must talk about my mice.. these two cute Ty Beanie Babies mice… A grey one with a gingerbread man and a white one with a wreath. I shall name them ‘Snuggle’ and ‘Snowy’…

Eeeee… I want to hug them and kiss them.. Too bad they’re going to be separated later this month.. I’m going to send one to my gray eyed guy, and we’ll reunite them when we see each other next. Right now I’m imagining this movie-like scene, it’s snowing at the Rockafeller Centre, and people skating.. I’m holding Snuggles in my hand… and suddenly the crowd parts, and Gray eyes is standing there, clutching Snowy the exact same way I’m holding Snuggles. And you can imagine the rest.. something to do with kissing while the snow’s falling, and the mice look like they’re kissing too.

I know.. I’m turning into a sentimental softy in my old age. But maybe it’s not such a bad thing.. hehe.

That said, if I see this scene ripped off in a Hollywood movie, I’m so going to sue.

I’m just wondering if I actually have the heart to bundle up this cute little mouse, and put it in a box to send half-way across the world.

Edit: Picture added here – tikuses

Chocolate. Crunch. Cake. – Small Bytes :.

I woke up craving the mother of all cakes. The crack cocaine of cake. Cake so sweet, so good, so bad for you, that if you were to eat one cake alone, you’re guaranteed to suffer from the mother of all crack cocaine of cake sugar highs and suffer a hangover the next day.

Ooh.. I fancy a really good sugar hangover…

On a similarly sugary note, does anyone know where I can get Mountain Dew in Brunei? Seriously, I searched high and low, to and fro, far and wide, side by side for that canned oddly yellow liquid sugar badness. My precious little secret stockpile is running low, and I’m not going to Singapore anytime soon.. and for some reason these past couple of months, it’s been a running craving.

Someone suggested ‘Kickapoo’, but you’d have to pretend really hard to even get that shit to taste like Mountain Dew. Why, oh why didn’t I just OD myself on it while I was in New York? The last time I was in Singapore, I went to a KFC and quite literally gorged myself on the damn Dew. I was jittering in bed for the rest of the night.

Now stuff totally unrelated, I found my long missing favourite make-up bag yesterday. Just popped up out of the blue, in a place I would have never put it. The one thing I’m annoyed about is that I had just ordered replacements for the missing make-up yesterday morning.. (a minor fortune), and found the bag in the afternoon. Grrr. Oh well, yang mahalnya, at least I found my favourite eye make-up brush. Now I have to wash all my brushes after the aftermath of the festive season, which did a number on both them and my face.

I have just finished watching the third Season of Stargate Atlantis. Oooh! I knew I shouldn’t have OD’d on my SGA, but I couldn’t help myself. I got so excited after seeing it on the shelf of my local *cough, pirated, cough* DVD shop, I actually bought it on the spot and started watching it that night. Being the hardcore (in Bruneian terms) Stargate fan that I am, I will buy the rest of the original series the next time I hit up the Big Ol’ U.S of A. Am still in love with Sheppard but now me soft spot for Carson has grown, and yes, I got more than a little teary after watching ‘Sunday.’ However, I was more than happy to see Jewel ‘Kaylee of Firefly’ Staite, and see two of my favourite worlds collide.

I’m having lunch with a friend today. Ooh, nervousness. I haven’t talked to him properly in a while, so I confess to butterflies. Maybe just shadows of an old feeling, and of course, worry because well.. we haven’t really talked since our last run in which led to a lot of stomped on feelings. I am definitely better now, and I really, really want to mend our friendship.

Dear Satan Santa, since I’ve been a sort-of, maybe, perhaps, almost good girl this year, here is my list of stuff I want for Christmas/ Raya/ my birthday/ whenever you see fit:

1) the entire Stargate collection on DVD

2) Firefly Season 2 (Yes, Santa, please tell Joss to make it!)

3) a writer’s job in Hollywood

4) Jake Gyllenhaal in a dress.

5) Lt. Col. John Sheppard

6) A Betsy Johnson ‘Love Struck’ Sweet Punk Dress in my size

7) A pair of cyberlicious Dior purple, black and silver heels in my size

8) The entire M.A.C makeup collection

9) Adam Levine (dressed in his album cover clothes)

10) A Green Card

11) A sense of humour (not for me, for the cranky pants in my family, you know who that is, they’re on your Nice but Very Naughty list)

12) The Guinness loving, gray-eyed, Irish soul from the Upper West Side, wrapped up in a bow.

Thanks Santa, I know you’re really Superman, cos only one man can turn back time and fly really fast and lives at the North Pole. *wink* But your secret is safe with me.

Oh yeah, don’t forget, I totally saved the world from total annihilation.

Love, Buffy.