This has not happened before.

So I hardly have interest in phones. Sorry. I just don’t. Anyhows, this is the tale of the prankster getting pranked.

 

 

Scene: After a group gathering at the office, me and two others were cleaning up.

 

Me: hey! Someone left their phone here.

Girl 1: Oh, that’s [male colleagues]’s phone. Keep it. Wait for him to ask for it.

Me: (thinking it would be funny to see him run around looking for his phone) Ok, I’ll keep it.

 

So I wait for hours and hours (ok, that’s a lie. It was an hour and a half) before finally going up to him, take out the phone, and wave it in his face. He just looks at me back. Me, thinking he was being egoistic and not wanting to admit he had left his belongings helter skelter, pocketed the phone back in front of him and walked away.

 

Girl 1: Did he take it?

Me: No! He just stared at me.

Girl 1: Don’t give it to him. Let him ask for it.

Me: Ok.

 

I walk past Girl 2 who looks at me.

 

Me: (thinking she knows what it’s about) He didn’t take it. He just acted like it wasn’t his!

Girl 2 snickers and goes to her desk.

 

I continue to work another couple of hours, then finally before going home, I stop by the person whose phone I am in possession of.

 

Me: I am going home. Are you sure you don’t want your phone?

Him: Yes. Go home. I don’t want it. It’s not mine.

Me: Fine. I’m going home. You won’t see me until next week (threatens)!

Him: I don’t care. Go!

 

 

I leave the office area, go to the washroom, wait about a minute and march back to the office.

 

(to boss) Me: He was going to let me leave with his phone! That is the extent he would go to keep up his big fat ego!

Boss: whose phone?

Me: His! (points to male colleague)

Him: It’s not mine. This is mine (takes out phone)

At this point, another colleague joins us and looks at the phone I have. I start to feel uneasy about the situation.

Male colleague 2: Hey, isn’t that [Girl 2]’s phone?

 

Him: She thinks it’s mine because I was sitting where it was left.

 

Me: (sudden realization) But [Girl 2] asked me if [male colleague] had claimed his phone! Why would she do that?

 

Boss then takes the phone from me and goes to Girl 2. Girl 2 takes it and giggles. Everybody laughs.

 

Upon exiting the office, the other fella who was with me when I pocketed the phone looks at me, laughing.

 

Fella: So now you know whose phone it is?

Me: Omg!! So you knew?

 

 

 

I am confused. Who pranked who? And who knew about it??

A new year is fast approaching

No, not a list of New Year's Resolutions, but a planned out year of magnificent challenges.






Yes, you are always in my thoughts. Always.

Yes I will get to these

Psychosomatic illnesses and upturned boats

"It's over there!"

Enjoy.

Strategies will have to change..you thought you had it all ironed out, but now here's your curve-ball.

What have I been Googling that has warranted an emergence of Tabasco sauce adverts to pop up at my sidebars? All over the place!!

Yes I am!

Making a salad is more than just tossing objects around. There re ingredients to be chosen, dressings to be selected and you toss not to flaunt culinary skills, but to get all the ingredients mixed well together.


I am trying to make a salad indoors.


You, on the other hand, are tossing autumn leaves outdoors on a winter's day and saying "Hey, they be green stuff too, and I'm tossing them about just like you" as you heave your big rake and toss your leaves up in the air.



No, you may think you are making a salad, but really, one wouldn't expect a carrot to swim, and I won't expect you to understand the difference.

I don't know if this will make sense, but....

Negative forces.



Remember that a ship can only be sunken if the sea gets into it. That is, if the ship is broken in some part, and in turn allows the water to pour through. Even one as great as the Titanic cracked and crumbled when the damage was too great.

Being on the sea is not the same as being a part of it.

The sea water, it is salty, no?
But what of the fish in the sea? Is the flesh of the fish salty?

These fish live their lives swimming in the sea, yet the saltines does not seep into them. They live.

How of those up high on the ship's deck? Are they part of the sea? No, they are on their isolated world, believing that they are living the life of the seas. They  know not of the current's strength, let alone how to swim against it. They sit on their decks ooh-ing and ahh-ing in amusement at the ups and downs the sea brings them.

In the open sea, they fear. They fear that should there be any break in their saviour, the almighty ship, then they will surely drown. For they have not lived the lives of the fish in the sea. They are not born for that. Is it fair then to judge a human for its capability to swim and live. In the sea as such a fish?

To make sure that their ship does not break, they make rules. Rules that they must all abide by. Any risk of the ship being broken must be immediately taken down. For they fear what will happen should they be part of that sea. Do not even speak of wanting the sea water. Bad luck, they say.

So there they stand, on the decks, and as the occasional splatter of the waves comes up to them, they are quick to wipe it away.

What would they say if anyone declared they wanted to jump into the sea? "No, we must stop him. That is our duty to save him"

















Forgive them for their ignorance, for it stems from the fear of the unknown. They fear the worst, and can only assume the worst.
You. You can be that generation that breaks free that ignorance. Embrace. Accept. Love. Instead of judging and isolating as they have done, educate.

The ones who have knowledge of the strength of the current are more likely able to overcome it.

May I never be like that.

Bad things happen.
You fall down,
You trip over your brother's toy.
Your tray of food clatters to the floor.



Even worse when it happens in public.



But the difference, is in your grace and humility in accepting the situation. Whether you break into a string of profanity, you start blaming the staff f the facility, you lash out at your companions,.. that is all you.


Falling might have been bad luck, but bad behaviour? That is all you.

Jump into the wagon, we will.

Recently it made news that a boy of 15 chose to quit school, and marry a girl of a similar age.

(Seriously, this is what journalism has become.)

 

 

The nation has gone in an uproar, celebrities have come out to gain their share of the limelight and given opinion into the matter, various “concerned” parties have emerged and spoken of this traffic-stopping occurrence.

 

“They aren’t mature enough to understand the responsibility of being a husband/wife, let alone to be a parent!”

 

“They should focus on getting an education instead of marriage”

 

“How can he support a wife when he can’t even buy his own underpants?”

 

“Good, this will prevent them from pre-marital sins”

 

“What a waste of his youth. Why rush into marriage when there are so many things he hasn’t gone through yet on his own?”

 

 

 

I shall now tell a story.

 

There was a girl who struggled all through school. Never got good grades, barely passed to get herself a certificate. Couldn’t write an essay in her native language if her life depended on it, and any maths beyond the basic + - is far beyond what she could handle.

 

Her elder sister, well, her sister wasn’t brilliant either. But she passed all her exams, some even with good grades. She joined school activities, and was a prefect (ok, it may be a foreign term to some of you. Prefects are the ones who get to monitor us lowly delinquent students and report to the teacher. Like cops, but without the donuts and coffee.). She finished school, went off to college, where she passes all her exams..some good grades here and there.

 

After finishing school, the younger sister announces that she will not be pursuing any tertiary education, and instead will marry a boy who has asked for her hand. Not that it matters to the story, but the boy happens to live in the house across the road from the girl. He was a similar age to her, had no job, and wasn’t planning to go to college either.

The family is horrified.

How could she be so short-sighted of her future? How could she not give herself that chance of at least trying to go to college, so she could get a decent job, so she can better provide for her future, as well as the future of her children? How would the boy support her?

“Look at your sister! When she finishes college, she will have a degree, get a high paying job, then she can marry and live comfortably. Even if her husband leaves her, she will have her education, and she will have a job so she can support herself and her children. You? You will always be dependent on your husband, and what can he provide for you?”

 

 

Both sisters look at each other.

 

 

Regardless, the younger sister is married off to the boy of her choice. She remains a stay-at-home wife, and soon a bundle of joy is announced.

 

 

I’ll fast forward the story several years.

 

The elder sister has completed her degree, and now has that high paying job everyone spoke of. She has all the designer clothes, when she walks into a room she smells of fairytale happy endings wrapped in angel dust. Ok, that’s an exaggeration. But you get the point. She drives a car of her own, lives in the city in a place she has all to herself, and any bill that needs to be paid when the family goes out is always taken care of by her.

 

The younger sister, now has two very active children running at her feet. Yes, they are all over the house and at the same time manage to also always be under her feet. Her clothes were bought at the local discount store, she hasn’t seen the inside of a restaurant since the last time the elder sister decided to treat the whole family to a dinner out. Her fingernails were shriveled and pruned, her hair thinning out from her last pregnancy.

 

One day, at the dinner table, the mother pointedly asks the elder sister

“…and you, when are you going to settle down? Enough of all this ‘fun’ you think you are having. It is time you take on more responsibility. Look at your sister, she already has two children. You? What do you have other than pointless material possessions?”

 

 

 

************************************

 

People forget, that all choices come with some sort of sacrifice. The only question is whether you are aware of those sacrifices at the time you make those choices. Knowing those sacrifices, and weighing them cost-over-benefit before jumping into those choices; that is maturity.

Maturity does not come with age. It increases as we get older, perhaps; but not all of us mature at the same rate.

Instead of judging right from wrong, wouldn’t the world be so much better if we tried to understand each other first, before giving our “concerned” thoughts of the matter?

Painful, but necessary.

I know it needs to be done. But comfort, that longing for stability; that has started its clutch upon me.

If only, if only
The woodpecker sighs..



No, I shall not be the singer of that song. Most people have it all set, to follow that all known path. That is why it is called the norm. That is why it surprises them so much. That is why they will fail to comprehend.


But me? No.

Someday, somehow... one step at a time.

There's a first time for everything.

Kids, please turn away. This is not kid-appropriate. I repeat, this is not kid-appropriate.

 

A friend had seen me returning after a run. He asks what I had been doing…I told him I had been running and just finished. He said I looked like I had just come out of the office (no sweating like the pig I should be sweating like). I told him I don’t sweat easily. He said that perhaps I should try the sauna, and that will help me train my body to break sweat.

 

 

So I did.

 

 

 

I wrapped a towel around my head (otherwise my hair would be dry), a bigger one around my body, and stepped gingerly into the sauna. Now, to wait. I covered my face with the towel. I had to loosen the towel around my body so I could have some cloth to reduce the pain of breathing in hot air. I close my eyes. Mind starts wandering.

 

 

The door opens softly.

 

 

A girl walks in. The first thing I see as I open my eyes, are b***s. I turn my eyes down so as not to be looking at those b***s.

 

 

She wasn’t wearing any bottoms.

 

 

Not even holding a towel. Meaning, she walked in bu** n***d.

 

 

I tried not to feel alarmed, but suddenly the air felt painful to breathe in, mind starts swirling, and knees start trembling.

 

 

Holy

 

Mother

 

Of

 

GOD.

 

 

She proceeds to climb up the sauna seats. Yes, UP. And the sauna room isn’t that big so by her climbing up, of you can just imagine how I prayed no unwarranted odours reached my stinging nose.

 

She proceeds to throw some water onto the rocks, and lay down.

 

Feet facing me. If I just turned towards her, oh…….

 

 

 

All I could think of, was that if I were a dude, I would be the luckiest dude. But I’m not a dude. And this is not at all enjoyable.

 

That’s when the fun started.

 

 

She started moaning. Moaning!!!!

 

Lying down, bu** n***d, MOANING!!!!!!

 

Why…..why,…..why do these things happen to me??

Thank you, God…hope you’re enjoying your sitcom of my life.

 

After what felt like an eternity of her moaning, and some of my blood starts circulating again, she sits up. I can feel her look at me.

 

“No, it’s better to take off, easier to sweat….” She says.

*I can almost tell what was going to transpire, but I was almost powerless to prevent it.*

She bends towards me, and starts unravelling my towel. It was already loosened, so this wasn’t that difficult; except that I was holding up bits of dignity with my forearm.. She gently moved my arms apart and discovers……

 

 

 

“Oh! You’re wearing panties! You can take that off”

 

 

Holy Mother of….^&%*^$*$#%$@%#*(^%(*%^#@$

 

Does this not sound to you like the beginning of a porn video?? Who else does this happen to? Who???

 

 

And whether you are already thinking that this is the highlight of the story, think again!! It is not!

 

 

As she bends down to push my towel away, her aforementioned b**b gently waves into my face.

 

Houston, we have a b**b in the face!!! I repeat, we have a b**b in my face!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

I wanted to cry!

 

I tried to move away from the b**b, but I was already against the wall. I had nowhere to run. It was either the scalding heat of the wall, or the b**b.

In this series of unfortunate events, my slight movement caused her to lurch forward and instead of the b**b just waving into me “Hello”, it was now securely planted against the side of my face.

 

I could see n***** from the corner of my eye! It was brown, and pointy!!! Oh my God, whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy…..

 

 

 

 

She is finally happy with what she has done to me, and returns to her previous position, which I initially found disturbing, but this time it became a comfort that at least it was out of my face.

 

She leaves the sauna about a minute later. Relieved, I count to ten and decide to leave as well. I decided to go to the steam bath to “sweat” since the sauna just gave me cold feet and an almost heart seizure.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And there she was I the steam bath.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I swear I saw her go down the steps to the locker area!! B*** n***d, and to the locker room! But no, it had all been planned out for me.

 

 

 

 

No occurrences to be reported in the steam bath. I proceed to shower, and change.

 

 

There she was, in the locker area, with only panties on.

 

 

 

Now I wonder:

Since I saw her, I have not seen whereabouts of any towels. Could it be that she forgot them? There were none near her as she dressed….

 

 

 

 

voiture

I think of you, and what could have been.
But you let me go...



I could've been a princess, you'd be my king...
But no, you let me go.

All in a Day’s Work

 

 

One.

I was driving out to lunch. Slightly groggy, and the window no longer rolls down so I have to open the door to get to the parking thing. Instead of pressing the brakes to slow down, I press on the honk. One clear, low honk echoes through the still parking lot. Security guards rush out to see what the commotion is. They see nothing but me in the car. Calmly tapping at the parking thing. No accident, no wild dogs blocking the way, nothing wrong with the parking thing. I proceed to calmly drive out. Security guards are bewildered, I am embarrassed, but no longer groggy.

 

 

 

 

 

Two.

She was getting dressed, and her friend comes along remarking “My goodness, your shorts are so short!!!” (I am reminded of the Psammead-keeper’s escalator encounter). The following conversation ensues:

Friend: Eh, your shorts are d**n short!!

Shorts: Huh? Can see a**?

Friend: Yes!!

Shorts: Where?

(at this point I wish I could say “There, right behind your knee-caps.” I mean, where else would your a** be?)

Friend proceeds to poke at Shorts’ behind, where she sees a**.

Shorts: You poke inside, of course got a**. (huffs)

Friend: Yes, can see… (proceeds to turn her head upside down, squinting at Shorts’ a**. But you have quite a nice a**, so I suppose it’s ok.

Shorts: Really? You think so?

 

 

This goes on for about 10 minutes.

 

 

 

Three

I exit this room daily and I am almost always alone in doing so. I am the one who turns on the lights, so I make sure I turn it off as I leave. Except today, I wasn’t alone. However, being the habitual creature that I am, my hand automatically went to the switches and turned off the lights. DESPITE, smiling a polite goodbye to the other two in the room as I was leaving. Tsk Tsk…

 

The funny part was in the few milliseconds it took for me to realize there were people still in the room, these two started proclaiming loud ghoul-banishing chants…it was pretty serious for a moment. I turned the lights on and poked my head in to apologize.. they said all was good.

 

 

 

Four

She had a tube top on. I was curious if she had exercised with that on..because those tend to slip down, even when you’re not moving rigorously. But at the same time it did look sports-y. I looked on, and as I did, she just took it off!!

I don’t regularly see topless females. It can be quite traumatizing. In this case, I would rate it a 4. The scene wasn’t horrific, but the action was.

So she proceeded to move around with those two just flapping freely about. I’m afraid to go to sleep now.

When profound thoughts emerge.

So I needed to use the lady’s, but the cleaners had locked it for cleaning. I tracked my way back through the office area, through another door, to the big pantry, and to another toilet on the other side. On my way I ran into one of my office colleagues, and on the office floor we paused briefly to say hello. As I was exiting the door at the other end of the office, that colleague I had said hello to was pushing the toilet door open. We both knew that we were there as a result of the door on the other side being locked.

 

It got me thinking.

 

We make independent decisions, based on our individual wants and needs, we encounter blocks along the way, or fast forwards as well. However, destiny sometimes aligns so that we still meet at some convergent point. We may have chosen different paths in life, struggled through our own toils and troubles, be brought there by different motivations; but if it was written that we meet at that checkpoint, then so it shall be.

 

 

 

 

All this, from a trip to the loo.

Reminders of you

I had a long memory recall. I was uncomfortable throughout the whole ordeal, but I made it through anyways. The brain does magic, it does. You might think that small little things have made it out of your mesh, but no. It is still there, and every now and again you'll have subtle reminders that they are still there. Still there.

I am part of this.

Thank you, for making me feel welcome. Not like the chucked away cigarette butt after a much needed smoke. Thank you for taking the time to notice small little details and telling me about them. I feel truly included; not just part of some hocus pocus fake attempt at inclusion.

Alex the Lion swing left and right.

 

 

 

I know I’ve written about this before, but I just cannot stress how much I cannot stand strangers invading my personal space. Especially when it is unwarranted, unnecessary, and done so repeatedly. I can’t stand it. If you do this to me, please know that I am mentally flipping tables at your unborn children to avenge the annoyance you have caused me. Trust me, if it weren’t for the threat of going to jail, this would be the main reason I would be committing murder.

 

So today we are at a small stall about to buy food. I have been standing in the same spot for about 7 minutes. She was at the other end of the hawker stall. She wants the hawker to pack some beef for her. She moves closer. I sense it coming. She stretches out her hand. I know it. It’s going to happen. She places her finger on the beef tray. Her wrist…her wrist (takes deep huffing breaths) rests on my folded arm. Mine! Lady, my hairy arm has been in that spot for the past 8 minutes now. What makes you think it is ok to rest your unthinking arm on mine? I do not know you. I do not wish to be intimate with you. By intimate, I mean to say I do not want any of your body parts on me. Even if this were just for a brief moment for you to point to the beef tray, have you not the ability to do so without coming into contact with me? Grazing my arm would irritate me already, but having you rest your arm upon mine….ohhhhhhhhhhh….

 

 

 

SO.

 

 

 

In honor of you, I shall list the various things I wish I could do to you, and the rest of you who like to invade random people’s personal space:

1.       In a queue, when the person comes up to my back and I can see the side of her face from the corner of my eye, I wish to smack them right on the nose. SMACK!!!! And I have pretty long fingers. They sting.

2.       When at the hypermarket, and their cart pushes into my butt, I wish I could start taking out items from their cart and put it elsewhere, like in the baskets near the counter. When they ask what the h*** am I doing, I’ll say “well, you involved my butt in your grocery shopping, so I figured I’d choose what I don’t want you to buy.”

3.       Seriously, I want to smack them in the face. High five. In the face.

4.       On the bus, when they spread their legs until it rests on my leg, I wish to take a picture of our touching knees and look at the person saying “this is going on Instagram as the obnoxious things people do on the bus”

5.       To the lady who rested her hand on my arm, I want to start yelling like Drago Bludvist calling for his Alpha, complete with wildly waving my arms above my head.

 

 

 

I wish I could mail this list to Santa.

Get ready, set,.....Go!!!

One after another, adventures are to be had. He was right, I had to be here to enable these little bouts of fear. And much fear do I feel....

If you give it thought, then justification should only be to yourself.

Why do I do this?
Because I can. Because I want to. I want to. This is not for show, not for the glamour (is there any?), not for bragging rights. I want it for me. It becomes me.


When will I stop?
When I decide I have had enough. When I find another way of feeding my mind, my soul.



What do you gain from it?
Well, if you buy a pair of shoes, you gain a pair of shoes, but you lose a certain amount of money. Same concept here, but I gain a kindred soul and an active mind.

Obsession with llamas.

I think it is because of their long necks. Not too long like a giraffe's, but quite long in itself. Also, their smiles.

What I have forgotten

As I am busy growing up, finding my place in this big, lonely world, my parents are growing old.

Canada and Indonesia

I've only heard nice things of you, Canada. And met plenty nice people to match.
Oh, and I know the story behind Indonesia...



Regardless, Hello!

Ukraine!

I wish I was brave enough to venture there... perhaps, someday. But until then, Hello =)

Let's see what happens.

Three days, or three weeks,...I guess once you've boiled yourself down that much, you can't lessen it out much more.





Life is catching up to me again... that "being and adult" part, that is. Does that mean that hopes and dreams are the gifts of children and children alone?





I long for you badly. I remember him saying that after a year he couldn't take it...I think it will be the same for me.

To a whole new book.

It's not like the first, where I laboriously spent hours on it. But this one will be good too, I can feel it.

The definite impossible journey is the one you never begin.

I want to be able to speak French fluently.

And Spanish.

Maybe someday, German.





But now I must struggle with the English language.

A good one.

Money = happiness



Today, a friend asked if I was going to take the next step anytime soon. I said "Not that I know of"; and to that she replied: "Money is more satisfying, huh?"


That struck me.


True: the lifestyle I live grants me the opportunity to have plenty luxuries. To dine at nice restaurants, wear the designer clothes, perhaps even join a club, drive a fancy car,..


But what struck me was one word - opportunity.


Happiness is subjective. It is a feeling that, granted the same situations, may or may not be produced. It is intangible.
Opportunity, however, is tangible.
I can tell you that I chose to eat at this café rather than the other. I chose to spend my holiday here instead of there.

Choices. Not everyone has them. I have plenty of that. Whether I sleep in or go out, that is entirely up to me. Whether I go off on random adventures, or go café hopping, I determine that. Whether I go up to someone and start a conversation with them, no one can or will tell me otherwise.

Money just means that I have more choices. But it also comes from other factors. Do I have the time to do those things that I choose to do? Or is my life consumed by pre-determined factors that are beyond my consideration?




No, money is not satisfying. Experience is. Money just enables me to choose what experiences I have. Where I spend my time, and whether or not time is a luxury of mine.

Indeed, my life is for me to determine. There are portions of it that have been written on my behalf; but I determine how I walk those paths.

You've got attitude.

There's a table: finished, varnished, polished, waxed. Gleaming.

She takes a nail, and drives it in. Pounds it. The hammer goes up and down, each knock uneven in strength. The nail is stuck fast. Not enough. She wants the whole nail in. She keeps pounding. The nail eventually is fully through the table top. Not enough. She keeps pounding away until she is done hammering.


What she wants is not to see the nail go into the table; but rather the table to be cracked and broken. Until she sees that, she keeps pounding.















No, it's not that I disfavour you. I just find your actions unjustifiable for your position, and by effect cannot find it in me to respect you for it.

Symptoms of demotivation.

Please, no one ask me why am I doing all of this. What I need, is a warm reminder that I am capable.

I should be relieved...shouldn't I?

Last one of the year. Next year, a new start, new eager faces and personalities. I wonder what I will be doing this time next week.

Oh, there's groceries that need shopping for.
The car should be serviced.
I wanted that notebook, didn't I?
Will I get up for my early morning coffee?
Laundry will have to be done.



The week after? Ok, that's safely mapped out.



Then it's December.



There will probably be reading I'll need to catch up on.



Where will my next adventure take me?




It'll be Christmas soon. Already some shops have Christmas décor up.












Oh, blessed is the life of me.

A little change

 

Coffee seems promising.

 

There are strrop waffles!! Those are absolutely heavenly. I wonder if it’s imported or homemade?

 

Perhaps if there’s space, I can have one later.

 

I miss them.

 

Would I be able to regain my former glory if I returned? No, I am a different person now. I am capable f different things. It would be unfair to assume that I would remain unchanged.

 

What did they drizzle over the tomatoes? This tastes awesome!!

 

Coffee’s a bit burnt..or is that the way it’s meant to taste? I guess you can’t compare it to Starbucks. That’s loaded with super-sugars. This is like a weaker version.

 

I have like, zero cutlery skills.

 

Was that thunder? No, some a**hole’s exhaust…

(Did I just curse?)

 

Seriously, how barbaric am I? Why can’t I figure out how to use cutlery without looking like an ape-woman trying to ignite fire using a dead bird and twigs?

 

 

 

I was sure I had work I needed to do…..what was it again?

 

I don't need to wait until the new year

I have made resolutions, and I will stick to them.

I can make my dreams come true. Patience, perseverance, and blessings from up Above.

If my intentions are good, and I follow them through one action at a time, someday I shall reap my rewards. Perhaps it may not be in the exact shape and from of what I had intended, but there will be rewards awaiting.

For now, let me endure my aching muscles, cry my way out of bed, try to close down my wounds,..





I will get there.

Comment ca va?

France!!!

By the Beard of Odin

I need to set myself deadlines. There is plenty to accomplish. I have set my goals, but there are the little steps along the way that I need to complete.

 

Why does the fatigue come at this time? Am I so tired because of the various thoughts in my head? Wow, I guess a dormant mind really does energize a body.

 

Breathe.

 

Eat.

 

 

Sleep.

 

 

Plan.

 

Do.

 

 

So much has changed, and it all began with a small adjustment: that belief that I can. I no longer sit in envy of others, or pride over myself, for I am pre-occupied with the various “I want” “I can” and “I will”s that I have.

A sense of purpose, a sense of duty, responsibility and that belief that I can actually make it all happen. I just need to push myself to do so.

I admit, there are days when I really, really need those words of encouragement. Today was one of those days. Instead, I decided to tuck myself away and slink to my corner.

 

 

 

The Return of A.

 

 

I feel her presence; lurking in the corner. I knew she was gone, but it had to be her. I know her scent; her stench. It fills a room no matter how large, in just a few seconds. And it stays, lingering, for long after she was supposed to have left.

I knew she was gone.

I never wanted her back. I missed her; meaning that I felt that her presence wasn’t there. We were childhood “buddies” if one could call such a thing a “buddy”. We grew up together. I never knew a time without her.

Then she was gone.

It took a while for me to realize it, or rather, to feel her being “gone”. I worried, I feared, I wondered: what happened to her? What really happened? How could she just be “gone”?

 

 

 

 

Until she returned.

 

At first it was just glimpses at the corner of my eye. Then more and more evidence popped up here and there. Today I saw her. Felt her. She has returned.

 

 

 

And now, I wish she were gone again. But it won’t be as easy this time, will it?

Shed some light.

"I don't have a life"


Blame it on our job: how much it pays you, the hours that you work, the duration of your work, the nature of your field,....

Blame it on where you are: The shops close too early, the pubs stink, the clubs are full of ugly people, there is nowhere to go, the traffic makes it impossible to reach at a reasonable time, parking,....

Blame it on your family: They always want me with them, I am not allowed out, I have to care for my siblings/ ailing parent,.....


And the list goes on....





And on.....




And on....







Before you make a quick judgement, whether onto yourself or onto others of whether who has "a life" and who doesn't, have you considered what it is to "have a life"?




Is it hanging out with friends, laughing and drinking to the early hours of dawn? Every day?

Is it being able to spend time with your mum and dad, play with your siblings, and eventually be the mum/dad and play with your children?

Is it having the coolest game console and making sweet sweet scores every night?

Is it bringing a new girl home every night?

Is it having the same girl to come home to, every night?

Being able to sleep whenever you want, how long you want?




Shouldn't life be what we decide it to be? Why should one person's happiness equate to yours? Decide for yourself, what fulfils you; what makes you want to get up; what do you want to have to say of yourself?



You can't have everything. If you want the fancy car, you'll have to work for it. Or if you want that hot babe, she'll need time AND maintenance.

Everyone is tired.


The auditor that comes home for a short three hour nap before starting a new day.

That fitness buff that works out 4 hours a day. He must make a living for himself too, somehow, right?

The teacher who teaches for half a day, but has five piles of books to mark, three books to read, class prep to do, and that parent who insists on "speaking about her child".

The cashier who works a twelve-hour shift.








Whether or not you have a life, YOU decide. Yes, there are powers beyond us that set our paths, but we choose the steps we take. Whether we zigzag, skip, run, or curl up and stop entirely.


Above all, stop blaming circumstances.

Those times you are proven wrong.

Him: [photo of a scooter] Look, I have a scooter.

Me: Where are you going to ride it to?

Him: Around home.

Me: Well, then I can take it.

Him: Hey! That's mine! Evil sister!

Me: [doesn't reply]

Him: Sorry.

Me: I was just playing. What am I supposed to do with you if I can't play with you?

Him: I'm not a toy. Brothers are to be loved, not played with.

Permanent markers

[Be more specific]


[Give example]


[Too long]



[How does this relate to your main point?]




[What is your main idea?]



[No.]




























I miss those days. But soon enough, they will return. Life is good. Opportunities are abundant. It is up to me to figure out where they lie and how I will take them up.



Each day, I become more and more amazed at the grace that has been endowed onto me. May I have the strength to give back when so much I am given.

Tales of fondue running

I wish I could question why my thoughts keep returning to you. But I know why.

Each to his own

He has his toils and struggles. Why do you question his? Are yours too easy that it not be enough? That you have to judge the severity of others' in order to justify that you have things easier?

Goodmorning kisses

Lightly pan-fried salmon

Drizzled in creamy sauce

Potatoes on the side.

I'll peel the potatoes.

Let's go buy the salmon.

Where did you plan on bringing me to buy the stuff you were going to cook for me?










No, I'll just create a mess.

If not for the big chunk

They were scattered all over the floor, as though someone had biscuit diarrhoea and couldn't hold it in much longer. But it was a cream sandwich biscuit.

*tsk tsk*

She was used to seeing this. After years of teaching the little ones, seeing scattered crumbs was a relief. It could be actual diarrhoea sometimes. That was unpleasant.

But she wasn't where the little ones dwelled. All adults here. Didn't they have the decency to pick up after themselves?


He trotted out... bound for the bacon, he must be.

"Look, who did that?" she asks.

"Not me! I haven't been out" he responds,

"Well, it made me think of you when I saw it" she says to him, munching at her lunch.

"What? I wouldn't do that! Or at least, I wouldn't leave it that way" he retorts.

"Well maybe that was why it reminded me of you. Because I knew it would bother you"

"You know what? I'm going to pick it up" he says.



She was surprised. She didn't think he would go to that kind of trouble.



"Yes, you would think that at least they would've picked up the big piece" she says, as he chucks a chunk of broken biscuit into the bin.



"Oh yes, the big chunk" he muses, as he turns back to the biscuit-rastrophe.





What did he pick up just now?????

They were in the car opposite the road.

As they fought, she played with her toys. She tried to pretend it didn’t bother her. They always fought. She wished she could make it stop. She wished the fighting would stop. What could she do? Why did they stay together if all they did was fight?

 

Plates started crashing.

 

 

There was one time, she read a letter her father wrote. Full of promises even her young mind knew he would not be able to keep. It broke her heart. Not because of what he wrote, but why did he have to write those things in the first place?

 

Sometimes they fought when they thought she was asleep. She would hear her name too, sometimes.

 

Was she the cause?

 

No. They were just unhappy. Why were they still together if they were unhappy?

 

But if they weren’t together anymore, what would happen to her? It was then that she realized, she was part of why they fought. Why they bothered fighting at all. It was because she existed. They could easily give up on each other had it not been for her existence.

 

When they fought, she would curl up in a corner, praying to God that should it bring them happiness, that He take her away. Let her be with her unborn brothers and sisters. Did He not want her in the heavens?

 

When she got sick, and she was often so; she thought that it was her time. That He had come for her. So Mommy and Daddy can be happy. Let her be taken away. No one seemed to want her anyways. At least, not her. They always seemed to want a different version, and no matter how hard she tried, she never seemed to meet anyone’s standards.

 

Somehow, always, she seemed to recover. She wondered if they ever felt disappointed that she did.

 

 

 

 

She still wonders to this day.

Oh!

Hello Australia!!!




And nice to have you back, Switzerland =)

Why do I teach?

 

I don’t. At least, that is not my goal each time I enter a classroom. Anyone can teach. Or at least, claim to teach. To stand in front of a group of students and deliver a lesson; not so difficult. That is the easiest part of the profession. Some people think it is the only part of the profession. Me? I am old-school; in the sense that I believe that that person entrusted to manage a group of fellow human beings should do more than instruct and deliver.

 

How do I motivate?

 

How do I create awareness?

 

How do I encourage a future generation capable of not only thinking for themselves, but for the betterment of the human race?

 

No, I don’t walk into a classroom so I can teach my children how to do their sums. I want them to know it is ok to raise their hands to ask for help, but if and only if they have listened to me explain it the first time, if and only if they have allowed themselves to struggle through figuring it out themselves, if and only if they want to learn how to complete the work; not just get the answers right.

 

What do I stand to gain?

A hope that I shall leave better children to the world; instead of a better world to my children. To have at least tried to produce a society of people who are good. Not just doing things correctly; but are good people deep inside.

 

 

Sometimes I feel like I’m fighting for a lost cause. That no matter how hard I try, whatever successes I have will always be just a drop in the ocean. And that is not yet to speak of my failures. Yes, I have those too.

 

 

No. I still have a lot in me to give. And to hold back and take the easier path is a sin to myself. I owe it to myself. To that person everyone gave up on. I will fight on.

 

 

Mother loves all of you equally. Some more equally than others, but equally nonetheless.

When you awake at 6 in the morning.

Today’s breakfast was good. Was it that I woke up feeling fresh, not tired and haggard? Maybe it was the full kilometer I finally ran. Was it the sense of purpose I have suddenly developed?

 

 

Maybe, it was the warm ambience that greeted me as I entered. Perhaps it was the scent of coffee. Perhaps it was that face at the counter who gave me a taste of a past that I miss. Yes, it is the ambience. Even though I am tucked away, tapping to the sound of my never ending thoughts, I feel a strange sense of belonging here. No, I feel like I am there again. Those mornings I woke up with a sense of purpose. Tired, but that pull towards wanting to do something; I miss that. I miss having that pull of what I wanted. Not what society has deemed for me to want. How do I achieve what I want? I must first discover what it is. Then, and only then, can I work towards making it happen. But then, life comes in the way. There are responsibilities to uphold, bills to pay, friends to meet, relationships to upkeep,..then the next question comes: is it still even possible?

 

Impossible is the journey that I never begin.

 

Have I began mine? Yes. And this fine morning, in this wonderful new place I have discovered, I have made it move just a little bit more. Today is the day I set greater goals in motion. I will move forward. No, the path is not set in stone; but what is the fun of walking a straight road in which I absolutely know the outcome?

 

Will I be here again? Most definitely.