I quote...

"...On the edge of the roof a faded and tattered prayer-flag was flapping away. "Young man," the old monk said, "tell me: is it the wind that is in motion, or is it only the flag that is moving?"

"What did you say?" I asked.

"I said, 'Both are moving, Holy One.' "

"The monk shook his head, clearly disappointed by my ignorance. "One day you will realize that there is no wind, and the flag does not move," he said. "It is only the hearts and minds of men that are restless." "


-  The Garden of Evening Mists, Tan Twan Eng 

No way out

I, for one, never thought that my life would end up like this. And yet, here I am.

From here on end, I foresee a dark, narrow, winding path with treacherous cliffs on either side, where one wrong move can send me spiraling to an abyss so deep and dark that there will be no way out. And no matter which path I choose from now on, I still can't see the bloody light at the end of the tunnel because for me, there is just no light. That's just the way it is.

I am trapped and there's no way out. No one can help me because no one understands, or they simply do not want to understand. I'm tired of hearing people tell me maybe you should do this or maybe you should do that. All these maybes just give me a whole lotta hope which has turned out to be a whole lotta nought. So enough of listening to people. Enough of maybes. Enough of waiting.

I wish there was a procedure out there where I can replace this sad heart with a happy heart, even for a few seconds. Because I honestly cannot remember the last time I was truly happy. And no matter what I do, I can't seem to be happy.  Grief follows me around like an unwanted shadow, a parasitic twin that has eaten away at all that was good in me, and it still scavenges for more knowing full well that I have nothing left to give. Soon i will be no more. Perhaps then I will find my happiness again.

Twilight zone!

It was a dark and stormy night. No, actually, it wasn't.

It was about 7.30 in the evening and still a bit of light left in the day. My parents were sending me to the airport in Kuantan and I arrived late because there was a jam on the way due to an accident. After a somewhat rushed goodbye I headed towards the boarding area and out of the boarding gate towards the plane.

In the Kuantan airport one has to work towards the plane, much like how one boards Air Asia planes. My parents and I have this ritual going on whereby they will stand behind the fence at a particular spot so that as I'm walking towards the plane, I get to see them and wave goodbye right up until I am actually in the plane.

So as usual when I exit the boarding area and head for the plane I turn around and there they were, my parents, standing at the fence and waving goodbye. I in turn also wave goodbye and in the course of walking towards the plane, I turned around at least 3 times and wave goodbye, and they also waved in return.

I then get on the plane and the landing was pretty scary, just before touching the runway the plane veered sharply to the left and I thought we were gonna crash for sure! People screamed, I accidentally grabbed the arm of the person siting next to me. What?? It was a natural reaction I tell you! Anyway, we didn't crash. 

 Upon alighting, I called my parents to tell them about the scary landing, and they asked me why I went into the plane so fast without waving goodbye, I should know that they would be waiting at the fence. Whereupon I told them that I did wave at them and they waved back! But they swear that they never saw me at all and hence, never waved at all.

!!!

Since then, there have been a couple of weird occurrences, like my tyre getting punctured but when I took it to the tyre shop, the man said there were no holes in the tyre, and it looked as if someone let the air out. And then the tv speakers suddenly didn't function and after a while, came back on by itself. Similarly with the hair dryer.

I don't believe in ghosts or fairies or elves or goblins, but Pahang is famous for 'orang bunian' which is something like fairies or elves in Malay folklore. If all of this is their work, I hope they follow me home to Kuantan tomorrow and stay there where they belong!

Give me a break

I had been waiting patiently for the arrival of The Good Wife Season 4. There I was, finished with all my errands and eagerly awaiting the show. And what do you know, my speakers decide to do a number on me and I had to watch the entire episode in mute, while reading the subtitles. Go figure.

I know this is a very minor setback in the bigger scheme of things, but this is life for me. You wait patiently for something good to happen but nothing ever does. Everything good that has happened is a result of my own efforts and hard work. Granted, the one good thing that has happened is that I have good parents. Apart from that, everything else I had to work for. 

Whereas things that I don't want keep coming my way, from frivolous things like a flat tyre to bigger problems like defending myself against what I call 'evil'.

The great paradox of life. That's what it is. I guess all I'm asking for is a break. 

This is what it feels like

It grips you. You can try to tame it, or contain it, or store it away in the furthest nether region that you can find, or hide it, or ignore it, or run for your life. But it eventually finds you. And when it does, it just grips you with the jaws of death itself and suffocates you until you truly believe that you will die. But you don't. Somehow you always convince yourself that you are a survivor, you are strong, you are worthy, you will live. And you do.

But it will always find you. And you end up going through this whole maddening process again. And then you ask yourself, is it really worth it? Is life really worth it? Am I really worth it?

Let me vent

Sometimes I am not asking for a solution. Sometimes there ARE no solutions. Sometimes all I want is a sympathetic ear to listen to me complaining and whining about the world, my life, everything. And yes, I do have a tendency of repeating myself. I don't expect to be judged or to be belittled. I know everyone has problems. I'm not for a moment saying that my problems are bigger than other people's. All I'm saying is that I too have problems. Some days are harder than others. I just need someone to listen, to tell me it's not that bad, even if I don't believe it.

Is that too much to ask?

Not good enough

The problem is that I am good, but not good enough.

Not good enough for my bosses, for my friends, for my ex-boyfriends, for my teachers in university, for my teachers in school, for my parents, for God. Yes, I am loved, but there is and will always be someone or something else that they love more.

I am not good enough. Never was, never am, never will be.

When in doubt...

I have tried again and again to explain my position to people. They still don’t get it. Go figure. Even my own parents don’t understand me, I really can’t expect the world to.

To them, I am in need of “professional help”, “wallowing in self pity”, “drama”, “selfish”. These are actual words used by actual people. I am sitting here wondering why I am still friends with these clowns.

If doing something that society deems joyful brings me dread, sorrow, grief, why in the world should I partake in that something just because society says it’s a joyful occasion? Because, according to one person, I am being selfish, all I think about is my own point of view. Well tough! If I don’t look out for myself, who the hell will? Why should I torture myself this way? Life is bad enough as it is.

And what they don’t understand is I can turn around and accuse them of being selfish, because knowing how torturous this is for me, they still expect me to do it. Isn’t that selfish?

And now let’s talk about professional help. I’m getting a lot of that lately. Personally I think they are tired of hearing my problems (which do not have solutions by the way), that they want me to be someone else’s problem. But that of course is not being selfish, that is purportedly being a caring friend.

Let me end by quoting what my dear friend told me when, in my grief, I asked him whether he thinks I need professional help.

His response :    Choyyy

                          We are each other’s professional help

                           ......

My response :   And this is why you are my best friend ever!

And that, my friends, is what a true friend will say to you.

What's the point of being good?

Don’t ever believe for a second that being good gets you anywhere. It gets you no where. Of course, I’m no angel but I’m certainly no devil either. And I know more than a few devils who are living happily ever after. Isn’t that getting the cake and eating it too? What do I get for being good? Self satisfaction? Overrated. Being able to sleep at night? Overrated. A clear conscience? Overrated. The answer is nothing. I get nothing for being good. 

It's time to switch camps. 

What promises?

I don't know how it has come to this. I thought I was full of promises. Of course, like any child, I fell off the well trodden path more than a few times to the horror of my parents and relatives, but even if they didn't know it, I always knew that I was worth just as much, if not more, than the next person.

From a life full of promises to a life of meager existence. Work, gym, occasional holidays, occasional hanging out or chatting with friends, occasional balik kampung, what does it all mean? Most of the time I feel restless, like I should or could do something more with my life but complacency has set me in a comfort zone so that I'm not motivated to go the extra mile.
I'm literally sitting on my ass, watching the world go by, and wondering about all those empty promises. Or broken promises. Same difference.