i walked a long while in worn-out shoes.

no kidding. they have been through heavy showers. they made my feet smell. they were flatten by the roads i walked on, and the time i spent on the roads rushing through hours. but i have been busy, and lazy, i find shopping time-wasting and annoying, and the idea of spending money on me meaningless.

about a year ago i told a guy that i had no idea why my shoes kept falling apart every few weeks. he laughed at me and said maybe it was because i bought cheap cheap shoes. (*note the double "cheap" he used.) oh maybe he was right. for some moments i felt really bad about that. i almost felt ashamed of myself and the cheap shoes i walked and worked around in. all those women in the fair, they have shinny heels so high and chic.

my old gallery boss hugged me warmly and gave me a gift tonight, saying that she appreciated me. i am overjoyed, so happy that i can cry. my boy thinks i am drunk being so high. oh but how comforting that was when my feet are sore and my spirit is low! it was a real boost. i needed some hugs real bad.

it was at tsim sha tsui again. a boy followed me all the way to the bus stop. i forgot to pretend that i did not speak chinese. he asked for my number. i told him to ask someone else. he said he did not want random people. he stood there and waited in a frozen pose. it was so embarassing that the people in the queue started to leak out laughter. i said no. he stood there still. and for about 5 minutes more he gave up, i said bye to him and he walked away.

i do not give out numbers to strangers, but it was sort of funny and romantic. there must be something about that bus stop.

i bought myself 3 pairs of new shoes tonight, one in blue, one in pink and one in champagne. they are not expensive still, not that cheap though. i would have lived some more days on those worn-out ones, but mom asked me to stop by the supermarket and buy some stuff home. and on the way to the minibus stop i passed by a shoe shop newly opened.

i think life wants me to treat myself something good and comfy. i have been harsh on myself for a long while indeed. :)

i want to build a treehouse! oh or at least, a rooftop garden. someone promised to build me a swing, maybe i should build me one instead.

it smells like papa was here.

mom is in the kitchen making curry and roti. my little brother has invited his friends over to have an indian food x barbecue party. a moment ago i was lying half-asleep on my bed, in my perfect fit little black dress. mom has made me hot lemon tea. she turned out the light for me. my elder brother bought the dress with me the summer i got into university. it comes with an adorable bow at the backside on my waist. that summer i was happy. that was the summer in which i almost went to greece alone. papa bought me my first real car that year, besides the red mini automatic jeep he got me when i was 3. it was a white little thingy, i forgot to give it a name, i remember it as JS3242. having a brother was nice, until his wife stole him away, but then they made hugo boy happen, he has been the sunshine of my life since then. i know i will love him till i die, as my own son, probably. this is a perfect moment in my life. i am overjoyed and satisfied. there is nothing bad about working hard, i would work my lungs out even, knowing that i can come home to this simple happiness.

it used to smell like this almost every night when papa was here. he would be watching the 7:30pm news on TV while mom was cooking in the kitchen. he would turn the volume up so loud, i don't know where he got that old habit. sometimes i would pour him a glass of warm water, or helped him look for the remote control. we would go for tea in the chinese restaurant early in the morning, after that we would drive mom to the market, and wait for her in the car, we would then take her home and drive to the sunset by the sea. after the sun was set we went home for dinner. it was a big family back then. we would play UNO after dinner, mom was often confused by the rules, and dad would teach her, playing smart. i always held my papa's hand wherever we went. i remember them warm, strong and big. oh dear lord i love my old man.

i will always remember myself as the apple in my parents' eyes. life has brought me many miseries. it has given me wounds on my heart. but i love it still. i love everyone and everything i have, even my stupidity and silliness, for i am whole, and i am real, my imperfections perfect me.

what a cozy evening i have here. :) nothing can take my love away from me.

someone whispered "you are beautiful"

to my ears when i was rushing to the bus stop tonight. it was brief. it made my day. i was in the art fair and i saw 10 pretty women walking pass me every minute. byron's "she walks in beauty" kept repeating itself on my mind. i wonder where they were when they were 24. and i wonder when i will become a real woman, so confident, so charming, so sure about everything. everyday i feel my presence awkward. i don't feel fit in everywhere i go.

i keep having bad dreams lately. every sign is a bad sign. dear god i hope you bless me, your little cherry has been weak.

it still breaks my heart a little everytime someone asks about my dad, and people do that a lot because they are often curious about the making of me e.g. what languages my father used to speak. it has been 3 years. many people think i should let go. it's a stage of life. a process. life has to go on.

life has been going on, so well, i have managed. but there is something about life that you are not supposed to let go. may it be a person, or a piece of memory, or both. how do you tell yourself to let go of something so dear? it is worth all those tears and more. it is worth too much of me.

i think it is because people eventually get bored by the same story repeated too many times. they are always looking for stories. and they only want stories. brand new ones.

but these are not just stories to me.

so what if i cry a little?

the last shot

after the last film was used, it was the last shot.

someone asked me if there is a reason that makes me gloomy. oh there must be some reasons. but above all reasons it is just me.

maybe i can blame it on the period still (which hasn't arrived yet and it bugs me. i am possibly under too much pressure again. no wonder why my skin has gone bad. oh my hair is a mess. my boobs are small... etc.) i am far from pretty these days. the hormones are major. they make me want to do what spring does with the cherry trees. i wonder if he would be the spring or the trees. anyways, he's so far away.

you've got to love someone while you're able.

i need someone to tell me he loves me. i cannot go on with this uncertainty anymore.

i am fragile tonight.

there is something about my life that makes me sad.

i feel like sooner or later i will arrive at a deadend.
and i have no idea how to stop myself from continuing on this journey.

i wish i could break free.

it feels like no matter how hard i try and how much i give i am still not trying and giving enough.
everything falls on me and me alone.

this headache won't go away.

oh whatever. i do not matter.

i write for the few people i love, those who find me strong when i am fragile.

this is what writing means for sagan, this is what writing means for me. sometimes i am embarrassed by my own words. but afterall i do not mind how the world sees me or how naked this writing thingy is going to make me. those who love me will love me for who i am. i would be careful not to drag others in, by taking away their names, making every him a he, speaking in codes, and making everything vague. but still, i never lie about my feelings, when i feel like i need to do that to make someone feel better, i stop writing.

but sagan knew it best. not being able to write is like being in love without love, drinking without getting drunk and travelling without arriving. in other words, it sucks.

this is how being in a relationship hinders my other life. this is how sometimes things get complicated. no real person has to be in it. does it sound selfish? but i do not write for a particular purpose. even if what i write is all about him, it does not mean i am writing to make him react in a certain way, or to react at all. i expect nothing out of anything i have written, except my words standing pretty on their own and leading minds onto a dreamy state in a metaphysical kind of way. i would have addressed someone, written a letter or sent over a text if it were my purpose to make things known. but most of the time i am simply writing. i have to have my little outlet. there are things that i have got no one to talk about with. there is a part of me that has to be put into words.

why are holidays passing away in a pace so fast while weekdays are tragically long? i dreamt of nipples the other night and i checked out the meaning. it said that i am either feeling sexually inadequent or weak and dependent. i surly don't want to end up as an old virgin. honestly i cannot wait. i cannot wait to get him over here or me over there so we can make crazy love to each other. i wouldn't mind not getting married if it were with him, knowing that we are only going to last for several thousand years. if it were a crush it would have been over in 4 months, by the autumn of 2009, considering the fact that we also do not even get to see each other, not even on skype. but i haven't lived many days without him on my mind yet.

spring has left. the cherry trees have had nothing done.

it has been raining heavily all day. how nice the raindrops sound. :) dear god, please bless this lovely world. amen.

i am in the middle of somewhere.

hello. late saturday night. early sunday morning. we had a bbq tonight. and it started to rain. i spent the morning preparing birthday surprises again. it was absolutely fun. the sun was so nice.
the rain was, too. this world is gorgeous.

after everyone was gone, i watched a chick-flick lying on the sofa. call me shallow. but movies like this make me happy, when i was 14 and when i am 24. i bet they will still move me as much when i turn 34. because they convey simple messages, they perfect lives, they make mistakes small, and regretful things forgettable. and well, most importantly, they always have cute guys playing the absolutely in love role, and these guys act like they hardly have an idea how cute they totally are.

and i love that.

when i was unhappy i went into the shop and rented 5 or 6 movies each time and kept playing one after another each night, filling my world with somebody else's fairy-tales. there is a reason why these movies have a market, because many souls are lonely, and many people yearn to be happy, and the real world lacks romance. and movies take away time.

so i think that is what i will do again.

i am not sure what is making me unhappy. i am indeed, feeling sucessful and all. i am good at what i am doing, and i am doing things good. i think i can do a lot still. but there is something i want for myself and no matter how hard i try i don't think i can have it for real.

a girl like me is only ever going to be satisfied with one thing, the one-life-one-love-you-are-mine-i-am-yours-you-love-me-i-love-you-say-goodnight-and-stay-together sort of thing.

well, i am sleepy. goodnight.

fly me to the moon

i hate it the most when i don't even feel pretty. my boobs have somehow downsized to the extent that no bra is necessary. i am a woman without cleavage. how pathetic is that.

no matter how hard life is, feeling good about myself always helps. i could cry for hours and hours until i had to vomit and still manage to feel beautiful. but not today, not this week. not these days.

life is seriously wearing me out.

but i am thankful. i love my job. i love having a job. i love having a job that pays enough for everyone to get by. i love paying the rent on time. i love settling bills. i love being the angel for somebody. it is my vanity. it must be. it makes me feel good being all loving and responsible. it makes me feel wonderful being the giver. it gets my nerves hopping knowing that everyone has something or someone to count on.

everyone is vain in some ways. i am not especially good, or bad. i am just vain.

charity itself is vanity. the worst kind of vanity, possibly. building your own sense of goodness on someone else's misfortune. oh that's just ridiculous. who invented it at the first place? why wasn't society implemented with the concept that the real meaning of charity is simply giving back what you have taken from others? the extra share that you have taken due to whatever reasons?

have you ever thought about what you have actually done to deserve this? to be born lucky and able to good parents in a good city?

why is life so unfair?

i feel guilty being who i am, having all i have. but i need more, and i will always want more than i need. and i will still whine from time to time. and i feel pressure. sometimes i envy those who only need to think about taking care of themselves alone.

i wish i lived in a fairy-tale. stupid eve why did you ever eat that apple? (i am blaming you every period of the month.)

ohhhh maybe it's not about what i have done, but what my parents have done, and what my grandparents have done. if i am ever deserving, it must be because of the good seeds they sowed.

obviously i am in a bad and confusing mood.

how much is too much?

aching shoulders, bad skin, uncombed hair,
impatient tone. expensive lives. being obessed
with robin hood. messy room,
sleeping alone in a double-bed,
period pain, temperamental moods.
missing my baby nephew.
long days, no time, unfinished books,
delayed plans, having left my heart
in denmark. the annoying fact that
a cherry is never bigger than a small potato.

i should have been named watermelon.


may god bless the good, the helpless and the innocent.
(as for me, give me the guts to be great.) amen.

those that i have, or have not met -
i love you to the moon and back
everyone, everyone of you.
and i will, i will, i will.

my thoughts scatter in late night thunders.

it was 5 in the morning and we were sitting in the car.
i was about to depart.
i dared not to think of a way to keep us.
so i didn't. and i haven't been thinking about that still.
but a part of me knows that we are just going to be well-kept
in one way or another, despite time and distance.
i think i have managed not to be that lovesick anymore.
being in love means you know you can have anyone else in the world
but you want him/her instead.
they say showing a boy how you feel will only make him take you for granted.
but i have been taught by life to always be open about my feelings
because you don't know when forever ends.
so i texted him in the middle of a night casting a love spell on us
and turned around feeling completely awkward about myself like i do everytime i send a risky text over.
i would do anything, if i know he wants me just as much.
i have always secretly wished that i could be the boy, and he the girl,
you know, so i can send him flowers and chocolates,
make love to him like i know how, and eventually propose.
but i am stuck in this girly active-passivity.
maybe i am waiting for someone who can take me even for my sentiments.
no one needs to understand the way we work things out.
we are no players. there is a string attached.
but this is what happens when two free spirits fall in love.
we are the laziest lovers and i am in love with our laziness.
i have been hardworking enough, for years
to finally understand that it does not take backflips to make love work.
whatever i do or do not do, it is all about love.



apart from all the above.

things keep falling on me. the really mundane ones.
i am giving out more than i can ever afford,
though what i am doing is still too little.
but i just can't stand aside and watch people die.
it is still about me. the fact that my heart sinks all the way down
knowing that there are helpless people out there waiting for help.
but there is one thing i believe in: the more i give the more i will have.
afterall i don't keep things. things gather where life is, automatically.
and if i am ever going to mess my life up
i hope it'd only be for some good reasons.
i should cast a spell on myself tonight, a spell that is mixed
with all the wisdom, power, bravery, spirit and love i need.

i cast a love spell on us tonight

with my magical words, a handful of stardust
of some irresistible worth. maybe a heart-shaped amber,
and a diamondless ring. i will wear you forever,
if time allows and if distance does not matter.
but forever is a word too long, possession a word
too heavy, my idea too insignificant. i don't feel well honey.
i want your hugs, i want your kisses, i want us.
life is stressful and it is tiring to be
always making pom-poms, back flipping to make things whole,
and i just can't wait for that particular moment -
i cannot tell you when, but i know it will happen.
i am not worried, a smart boy like you
will love me. i must have repeated myself too many times.
i have tried to be creative, you know, speaking in codes
playing the witch's worst role.

i would have written about this tremendous pressure.

but it is meaningless to write about it. i know what i am doing, and i know what i want. i will work as hard as i can to keep everything in place.

now if the universe would just push things a little bit and give me all the power, the courage, the love and the wisdom i need to tackle all difficulties, i will be more than grateful.

everyone of us has got to learn to stand on our own, and trust ourselves a little bit more. there is no way i cannot make it. there is no way i cannot give everyone what they need and still get what i want.

everyday of the week i am exhausted and overworked. i just need a good night sleep, and then i will wake up strong and positive. cherry knows all the tricks and secrets to make life better. :)

the evening game

most women are easy in the sense that love and care give them impossible strength. if you love enough, and if you care enough, or if you hold that magic to make them love and care enough, they will stick with you through ups and downs. they can take a lot, almost everything that life can bring, and the only thing they ask from you is for you to be there and give them what they need when they need you to be there for their needs.

some women can even take cheaters, actually, the same cheating boyfriend, for a million times and more. but even if they stick around, it does not change the fact that a ruined relationship is still ruined. the i-love-you-but-i-cannot-trust-you kind of love brings the greatest misery and backfires in the worst ways. they are not sad that you lie, what makes them sad is the fact that they cannot trust you anymore.

don’t give your girlfriend any excuses to even think about getting even with you, maybe you are only sorry when you get caught, but what goes around comes around. that’s what people call “karma”. i was told that “karma” is not only the magical way to work out the universe, it is one of the human instincts, it is the ghost in your stomach – knowing the fact that someone can do the same things to you the way you do the same things to them because you know you can.

you can go mess around with girls and explain that as a joke to your girlfriend, or disguise that as nothing but friendship, but keep in mind that this girl you love, you love her because she is not stupid. are you sure that you can get away with lame excuses?

that is exactly why the honest bad boys are often more attractive. they do not lie. they will probably do all sorts of bad things but you can expect them to be honest with you and most importantly, with themselves. you can trust them to be bad. the most attractive kind of boys is the kind that is open and honest about things while those who sneak around disguising their chicken hearts with one lie or excuse after another are the biggest turn-offs.

life is not just about being picture perfect, it is always more about digging our souls, confronting our vices, being open about them and accepting ourselves as the way we are, and only by doing that can your soul takes its very first step towards refinement.

our relationship with others is a result of our relationship with ourselves. maybe it is necessary to lie to the world sometimes, or omit certain uncomfortable truths, but why lie to ourselves when we were basically born to know that this world comes with imperfections?

it's time for a little bit of self-reflection: maybe this is why i keep going back to the same boy, sometimes he is too honest that it hurts, but i can take the hurting, at least he is not underestimating the capacity of my brain by counting me to build my trust on some stupid talk. ok, now i think i love him even more.

oh.

it's 2am.

and i am so completely in love again. from hell to heaven
or heaven to hell, it really takes only a step.

he is still the same as the him i know.
i should really just trust myself a bit more, and ignore norms, and avoid generalisation, and always remember that he is different from the rest of the world.

and i only like him because he is the way he is.

ok! goodnight then. :)