it’s my party, and i can laugh if i want to

03Jul09

now i know the painful truth; where “yes” really means no,  “maybe” means highly unlikely, and “not now” means not ever.

well, better late than never, i always say.

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Tags: whims and fancies

then again, maybe i won’t

30Jun09

in the end, all you have are memories. and usually the ones you have with friends are the ones you treasure most. 

not that there’s really an “end,” and “usually” means there are indeed exceptions; like dancing in the dark, walking in a park, and some of those really loud sneezes.

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Tags: notes from the universe, whims and fancies

come on now

25Jun09

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Tags: art

: cloud cuckoo land

25Jun09

when this is all over, i will go to the rain forest, or the pyramids, or a beach as white as bone. i will eat grapes from the vine, i will swim with sea turtles, i will walk miles on cobblestone streets, and i will smile and laugh, because i deserve it.

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Tags: fairytales and happily-ever-afters, whims and fancies

someone you used to know

22Jun09

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Tags: fairytales and happily-ever-afters, the end

freeze-dried romance

11Jun09

“you have lost your cheer”, E said, in a tone of disgust, similar to “i have lost all hope in you”.

have i honestly? bah humbug.

i am in a quanandrum.

a good friend told me: you can tell when you’re over someone. it’s when you’re able to incorporate him back into your life. have his number, his facebook feeds, and speak to him normally, and that means an actual adult conversation that does not consist of awkward silences and feet shuffling, thumb twiddling, but vocabulary stringed together to form meaningful sentences. if you can’t do that. you haven’t gotten over him.

oh. *shuffles feet and twiddles thumbs*

and with all this talk about me being over and done with “he who shall not be named”, it only took a phone call, a text message, and external circumstances to make it all messy again. i’m a sham.

tell me, did you fall for a shooting star
one without a permanent scar
and did you miss me while you were looking at yourself out there

i have nothing to more to say except; happiness comes first, charmaine. partners, abundance, and cool shoes come later. but i can’t help loving you. i’m hopeless.

na na na na na na na.

Filed under: life in general, so chin-up, the past and present, uncertainties   |  1 Comment
Tags: baggage

untitled

08Jun09

what words are appropriate
for a person who has just lost someone dear?

what amount of tears are appropriate
for someone who tries hard to remain stoic?

and so, it begins.

i didn’t see him, but i heard his voice, bad enough. i paid my respects, i saw her resting there, peaceful, tranquil, alleviated of pain and worries. i grit my teeth, bite my lip, hold back my tears, hold back the emotion, this tidal wave of suppressed grief, loss, regret, and nod as his mother fills me in on how she passed on.

i look at her again. trying to remember the last time i saw her, trying to recall what she said to me. i dig my nails into my palm to keep from tearing. it was dinner, after a normal sunday at his place, before my life went topsy-turvy, the last semblance of normality. i was sitting at the dining table, having dinner with her, with him. she was eating lesser and lesser, the pills more and more, “age” she said, “old age and weary bones”. i also remember the stories she used to tell; how she learnt cantonese from her neighbors even though she was not born into that dialect. i forget some parts, but the animation on her face as she imparted her life story, how she married her husband, how she worked eight hours a day even though she was pregnant, how she learnt to cook, how she taught his mom to cook all the food the family loves. i never knew that that would be the last time i would sit with her, tv blaring in the background, asking me what dialect i was born into, chopsticks working the food, fly-zapper on hand. she was good at zapping flies. she was good at alot of things.

i listen half-heartedly as his mother continues, saying it all happened so fast. tuesday, and then by saturday, it was all over. scenes keep flashing back, but above all, the heightened sense of sorrow, that it had to come to this, to bring me back here to a home i used to know inside out. but that’s life. and as i pay my final respects, as the joss stick burns, i look at her picture, and i think about how lucky she was, to have had all that she had, to have lived a fruitful life, a cheerful life, a blessed life.

i see people i used to know, back in happier times. i smile regretfully, they grimace back. i meet the cousin who wanted me to play with her, like all those years before. i wonder what would have happened if she didn’t guess that i was the one. but what does it matter? she was wrong. i wasn’t the one. i wasn’t even close. i creep to the back of the house, taking in everything, yet trying not to. i see the help, she remembers me, offers me some tea. asks me how i am, tells me about how he kept the pictures that used to be on the walls, tells me his mother often talks about me to her. it doesn’t matter, i feel like telling her, he doesn’t love me anymore, you don’t know how hard i tried. pictures are nothing but pitiful reminders of the past, of which he probably no longer cherishes. you don’t know how many tears i shed, i want to scream, how many times i went home in drunken stupor, buying into the catchphrase that you forget everything when you are drunk. you don’t know how much i’ve been through, how much i’ve lost. but i smile and nod, asking after her, telling her to take care. i hear the dog that i miss so much, the one that we bought together in happier times. the only happy times i know. he cocks his head and looks at me, then launches himself on the floor, paw on my knee, head in my hands. i pat him, look him over, hug him, kiss him, miss him, tell him silently that i am sorry for everything. i am sorry for not being there for him, to watch him grow, to feed him his kibble by hand. i am sorry that i am not there to walk him when he needs to be walked, to play with him, to buy him his favorite green chew sticks. i am sorry for all those times i wept into his fur because his owner told me he didn’t love me anymore and i was too stubborn to believe it. i am sorry for asking him to pray, for me and his owner, that everything would turn out fine and that it was just a rough patch we were going thru. i am sorry for not trying hard enough to be who he wanted me to be. i am sorry that everything has changed and that there is nothing he can do about it. i kiss the top of his head, silently willing him to be strong, telling him that boys don’t cry and to love me forever, because if only life were that simple, it would be enough. i tell him that i may never see him again, because i cannot take the hurt and pain that comes, wrenching my heart, when i step into this house, when i see all the memories, taunting me, haunting me. this, i think, might last forever. i look at him, trying so hard to memorize his face, his eyes down to his nose, his paws, as he shuffles around me, lying down again with his head in my lap, pawing for a pat on the head, a scratch below the chin. does he know? can he sense it? parting is difficult when you know you may never see that person again.

seeing his grandmother lying there, his family grieving, after taking away the layer of painful awkwardness that comes with the long absence of contact, let me see how everything has changed, yet at the same time, nothing really has.

his grandmother’s death, to me, was akin to the ending of an era. similar to the ending of the final chapter of the life that we once shared together. the hope is gone, the faith relinquished. it’s over. it’s really over. it’s time to wake up now.

婆婆, 對不起, i was not all that you wanted me to be.

Filed under: tears and rain, the past and present   |  Leave a Comment
Tags: baggage

the millionaire round

07Jun09

me: “well, i can only imagine a cartier ring.”

keli: “fwah. cartier ah.”

me: “but of course.” *grin*

keli: “hmmm. maybe there should be a show. “who wants to marry a millionaire“.

me: “WAHAHAHAHAAH. oh man. that would be perfect. could i join? oh wait. does that mean he’ll be ugly?”

someone, call Mediacorp and let’s get this out before the yanks get their grubby fingers on this gem of an idea! just think. 25 money-diggers ranging from 18 to 30, consisting of 10 blonde bimbos, 5 brainy-brunettes, 5 hot asian chicks, and 5 complete losers. lots of luxe, wine, bitching, and sex. ah, the ratings will go through the roof i assure you. from rags to riches, baby.

ps. pardon my bimbo-esque comments. i can’t help it. it’s been a long day. o.O

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Tags: just for kicks, whims and fancies

see you in the VIP

07Jun09

i should think one ought to look fondly back over their shoulder, at all the times in their life when they were overcharged, tricked, or taken advantage of, cheated on, because for every single one of these transgressions, they’ll be paid back like a rock star on an international stadium tour (think deep purple, aerosmith, jay chou), hanging out with the coolest cats, flying on private jets (ah, the luxury), eating twinkies (or in my case,  steamed tofu and vegetables), and being waited on hand and foot by their former transgressors. if, that is to say, that is their thing.

well, obviously.

and that’s in addition to all of the other incredibly wonderful things that will be happening to them forever and ever, as they do for all great people.

sigh.

when you tell me, when?

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Tags: just for kicks

the velveteen rabbit

31May09

absolutely splendid!

read it here.

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Tags: just for kicks