Thursday, December 22, 2005

LeT tHe OvEReATiNG bEgiN!!

dear jess

I have the ugliest handwriting on the block. And I know that. I don’t need anyone else to tell me that and in attempting to write a romantic letter, if ever; it would definitely be a failure. However when I flip through them in my journal, it gives me nothing but great pleasure, pain and intrigue.

The shadow of time is slowly caving in on me. This year the world didn’t celebrate new years and my family didn’t celebrate Christmas, which makes this one slightly more stressful, with the lost of significant others.

The ugly handwriting fails me not and tells me of the pain that I had to go through in one of the darkest times this year, gained friendship, and the death of it. Accusations, harsh words, hatred.

I’ve caused a lot of pain too. Lost love. Wrong values. Bad judgment and decisions that have left people in depression, pain and even regret.

I’ve also been treated with grace by so many around me. Im contemplating naming these people but perhaps it isn’t wise as I may miss out those that may have given me grace without my awareness. My friends and family who’ve been there when I was ‘mistreated’ at church, work and even when I had secrets I couldn’t share with anyone else..

Backpacking beautiful Thailand is one that was written with so much care, at guesthouses, the lounge at my stay when I was alone, in a bus on the way to the next destination, even on the floor as I cried once. It’s something that means so much to me and yet so few can share this experience.

To grasp a whole year in my hands feels like standing in front of a work of art and describing it all at a go. You see, the only calculated achievement or lack of it was that I read slightly more than half of the books I had wanted to read.

It’s all in this one big feeling I have right now stuck in my throat and is welling up in my eyes. It’s not quite a feeling of pain and or joy..

Sometimes its great not to be able to describe or journal something. And that the feeling stuck in my throat is something that no one can duplicate from me.

The good and bad thing about going into a new year is that I can never anticipate what will happen. I thought I was going to be shivering with excitement that ill be headed off for Christmas, as it turns out the feelings are opposite now.

You’ve been good to me. The silent listener of all my moans and groans. Whilst my letters to you will taper off as I shall indeed be busy stuffing my face, thank you for being crazy enough to read my letters, yet nice enough not to hate me.

In all soberness and sadness I wish I wasn’t in right now, from the intimate spaces of my heart, I want to wish you merry Christmas in my mother tongue..


Praise God the giver of life who somehow sees me worthy to be His. I hope that you and I will see that this Christmas

If it weren't for the rocks in its bed, the stream would have no song.
-Carl Perkins

yours in need of a shot of christmas cheer,


Tuesday, December 20, 2005

aLL mEn aRe.......................

....... idiots

dear jess,

We set ourselves up for disappointment all the time, just waiting for that moment when that one single person will pay our one single self attention for more than 15 minutes of their time.

So we make politically-incorrect-bias-sexist-remarks like all men are idiots. And by idiots I mean exactly that. Love lesson 101. When a woman is angry and you fail to call her? You immediately become an idiot. The excuse you swear by that is truth to you that goes along the line of ‘I was waiting for you to cool down’ is.. idiotic. How is she suppose to cool down when you were the only one who could make her cool down?

Failure to call her within the first hour of her fury being made known – you will face some anger, but redeemable.

Within the next two hours- begging is advised

Within the next 3-5 hours – be prepared for many hours of groveling phone time

After 5 hours – ask her to come see me for a reality check.

Perhaps it is us women who are idiots. The definition will range from female to female under the umbrella of giving losers who’ve wronged them second chances, waiting on them, waiting for them, and who knows what else.

I’m even more convinced that we are the idiots sometimes as we believe the empty lies of being wooed, romanticized, and hang on to promises that he will call, come or email.

Most idiots may or may not get that moment of realization when the brick hits and the realization dawns that if you were his or her priority; he would’ve called emailed or be at your doorstep no matter how tired, tied, or tried.

And there we go shaking our heads at ‘unhappy singles’, including ourselves. Who’s the idiot now?

From one idiot to another..

Friday, December 16, 2005

rAw aNd ReAL

dear jess,

We love at the expense of getting hurt. We make good friends at the expense of being betrayed. We share at the expense of being laughed, mocked and shamed at. We ask at the expense of being rejected. We forgive at the expense of being wronged again.

We close ourselves up at the defense of our emotions. We are sarcastic at the defense of our own insecurities. We stay away from relationships at the defense of protecting ourselves. We fail to share the truth at the defense of letting people know who we really are inside.

I hate it when someone talks to me about my letters to you. Asking me why am I this way. As if I should explain further the raw truth that came so hard to explain to you in a letter read by so many. He would ask me this as if my purpose was to be dramatic.

I hate it when the person who claims my loyal friendship treats me as a stranger when he is back and doesn’t speak to me more than 5 words or ask me out for a catch up drink. And yet to someone else I do the same.

I hate it when I think that I can keep my feelings free from a relationship and then when I’m hurt I cry, off the lights and type a letter to you in the dark.

In the deep recesses of my mind I get the feeling that someone is going to get hurt. And yet I use him. Maybe because he’s nice or maybe because he makes me laugh. Or maybe because he’s just there.

Mutual misuse. Even then, someone is bound to get hurt.

There is nothing wrong with hurting and giving hurt, only when you know it might happen with or without your doing.

Honesty. Its such a hard thing to do. Impossible in fact. Someone told me she’s going to approach this single one person who’s done me wrong. Finally someone who’s fighting my battles, the one that has for so long left a scar in my heart, the one that no one came up to me and apologize for the scars they left permanently.

The other day I put on my gold chain and choked in tears for the person who gave it to me.

If I know so much about causing hurt why should I let him into my life knowing that someday it will be his tears, and mine too.

growing too old for my own games,

Wednesday, December 14, 2005

i'LL bE hOME fOR chRiStMAs..

Dear jess,

After 27 years of being away this will be my first Christmas at ‘home.’ Christmas has always been a mad rush of putting up pretty things for people to come together and enjoy. We’d wake up at 6 and rush into a drained looking musical team who would later be completely happy with their performance.

In my years of being away, I have met a little few interesting characters. This one calls me when I’m asleep to tell me how happy he is that there’s breeze today and its Christmas soon! Then later, he would tell me stories of playing truant, gang fights and even sad suicides.

For once. It’s nice not to be the stand up comedian who has to tell stories and keep the other amused.

It’s also nice to have someone younger than me speaking Portuguese to me in bits and telling me that in the settlement, the week before lent is a water festival that leaves everyone drenched, whilst Christmas celebrations start from now with singing, late nights and of course the infamous boozing attached to it.

The format of this hedonistic lifestyle, somewhat amuses and attracts me.

Cracking into the nutshell of my life seems to be finding a balance in all sort of things. I seem to fail to reach it and perfectly hate the standards that others force on you. The spiritual will condone whilst the worldly will entice.

There are so many things wrong with the pictures in our lives today from going only as far as a stage to proclaim Christ to just being sarcastic about going only as far as a stage to proclaim Him.

Drenched, broken and still impossibly searching for the balance, I’m thrilled at the prospect of Christmas, going two hours away to a whole new experience with a group of people that even I know little about, and yet am related to alot and the promise of being taken to have chicken ball rice at 4.30 am by the interesting character, as a latest addition into my life.

It’s beginning to feel like Christmas, in any sort of spectrum possible.

waiting to wish you Bong natal,

individually named christmas balls...

Friday, December 09, 2005

a sPooNfUL oF suGaR

dear jess,

its raining outside, again and makes an awesome time for still reflections, silent longing's and typing on my bed. someone asked me today if i was ok, and that i hadnt been my usual self lately. perhaps thats true to some extends.

my life feels rather stale. like the bland taste on your tongue after getting sick. its pretty hard to describe but nothing excites me anymore. friends, church, entertainment. i guess most people would call it the mundanity of life that they've come to terms with at accepting, except, ive had mundanity, and this doesn't seem to be it...

its hard to cure something when you're not even sure what it is.


Wednesday, December 07, 2005

yOu caN rUn, buT yoU cAnt hiDe!!

dear jess,

Some people exist merely to torment me, I believe. As many as have come and gone, there are some that migrate back to promise and seal torture for my life. The scary part about these people is that they seem like lambs to others.

I’ve always told myself to trust my intuition more, like for example when I saw the unrecognized number on my hand phone and the little small voice was shouting out that it could be him. don’t pick it up!

You see, the problem with swearing by male best frens is that sometimes, ever so rarely, you get friends dressed as males, with the embodiment of a female. Something like the term wolves dressed in sheep’s skin. You enjoy the male accompaniment because they won’t sweat it if you forgot their birthdays, didn’t see them for a few long weeks, and wouldn’t argue over about watching a movie or doing something without him.

But every, now and then, a male exists without knowing that in reality he is more, if not worse a female. Well, for the sake of being politically correct, a male or a female that is high maintenance is absolutely riveting, hence my torment.

There must be some sin in complaining about a “friend” to you and not to him, which isnt right as I've seen some people do. But since ive told him in his face that he is high mantainance and annoying and also, confronting, plus everything else, I guess all that’s left now? Is to sit and wait till he corners me AGAIN about why I haven’t called him to spend my every waking moment with him so he can once again question why ive neglected him for the last 5 years. I wonder how long I can duck him with the 101 excuses before I have to see him and reveal intimate details of my life because he probably thinks he deserves to know whilst he stares at me and sits too close for comfort. Bbbbbrrrrrrrr a chill just ran up my spine.

Well, at least you can be sure that my letters to you will remain dramatic from here on.

Wish me duck, I mean luck.

Groan, groan, groan,

screaming or smiling? asian monalisa... i say screaming, and no one hears me..

painted poster outside a theater house, bangkok

Monday, December 05, 2005

siNginG in ThE rAiN or MaybE thAts wHy iTs rAiNinG..

Dear jess

I have rain tappin on my roof, and Christmas music in the background. With the atmosphere that’s as close to perfect as it can be for a Malaysian girl who adores rain and celebration, it must be good days ahead.

Everyone loves Christmas, because it makes you remininsce. And sometimes the gifts, the friends and family, and of course the wine drowns out the sorrows of normality, past pains and losses, or the fact that you’re away from home.

Its interesting how family structures work. Ive never come close to appreciating mine till lately. Last week, we sat down and listen to country, even josh groban with beer, nuts and live band. Yes, my family ‘structure’ is one that you can take pubbing. Because of course, when I was 12, they took us to watch the very same band in a smoky pub, watch the band play with their boots, hats, and husky voices.

You wont think much of pubs until you’ve gone into a Portuguese owned one, that ensures on the way out they know your name, and you’ve said goodbye to everyone, and the next time you’re back you can take credit for beers and booze!

Of course there is nothing like watching a band that has been performing for so many years from a lead who can yodel as well as do a josh groban. Even local group too phat came to watch.

It seemed like music week too, when the cousin and I watched movie, had supper and told a certain somebody that if we have an album we will autograph it for him. All this only to discover later that the certain somebody was also the lead singer of a local underground band. If I found a hole in the ground I’d hide it there, especially after letting him listen to our recorded singing of going to the chapel! Or was it worse when we screamed at him that he hadnt heard of the country and western group? I cant decide, but talking about music to a band that apparently was the first to have their demo tape played on Malaysian airwaves?

Note to self, bring portable hole wherever I go.


uncle charlie plays with os pombos

Wednesday, November 30, 2005

cOLLecTiVe CoNciOusnEsS

dear me,

you always believe that you should write only when you are inspired. Be it a sudden urge to say something that philosophically moves you or a stupid thought. But sometimes the inspiration stops. And you will not succumbed to that of what other writers do when they dictate their, “I was at school at 9 and had lunch at 12.” Even if my life was as boring as that, and it is, I never would do it.

Someone once told me that my letters to you were honest, how funny I found it to be. Whilst there were traces of honesty in it, it was always masked so that no one would fully understand it, or at least I would be led to think that.

Everyone thinks about death at one point or another. Their own that is. Perhaps its self pity or fear, but most likely narcissism, as our life flashes. It is isn’t it? Living, like writting, seems to make sense only if someone read it. We write with the proud security that people are interested in what we have to say. That someone actually cared that we were awake at 9 and having lunch at 12.

Maybe that’s also the same reason why we put all our energies and hope into getting hitch and married like it was the most important thing in the world.

Flashes of thought at the meeting of our maker, we think "did I get to outlive my dreams or have I done enough with my youth and most of all did I leave a mark to the world?" "Did I inspire anyone.?"

Do you want to know how to please someone? Get their ego bloated till they burst at the seams? Tell them they’ve inspired you. Heck, sometimes they even believe that without anyone acknowledging it. Oh she’s acting because of me, studying law because of me.

I think it was part of a movie. The secret to courting that girl is letting her talk about herself. It always works.

It always has and will be the big M-E. The fall of MEn, will be our very own self.

yours, of course,


Friday, November 25, 2005

a fUnNy tHinG haPpEneD oN tHe wAy tO thE moVieS

Dear jess,

My one weakness is going to the movies. I absolutely love it. My other weakness is being a person who's always rushing and therefore creating situations. After my ambitious back to back European film festival and watching turks speak german; which was a nice flashback to the days i actually took german classes, i was all set for my next movie.

One last usual stop before i go in. Get into the toilet, open door, get in cubicle, shut door, unzip pants, pee, zip pants, get out, grab drink left at the sink, notice guy on my left peeing in a urinal, which i apparently failed to notice on my way in, wash hands, leave.

You know whats worse? i didnt flinch. blink. blush. nothing! However, out of respect for a shell shocked innocent male bystander outside the toilet, i had to shake my head at myself.

Who needs entertainment when i can laugh at myself?

yours apologising to men everywhere,


Wednesday, November 23, 2005

cAkeS shoULd oNLy bE maDE oUt oF iCiNG..

Dear jess

indecisiveness prone. At the risk of sounding like a backboneless person, sometimes I wish my decisions were pre made for me. So much for the fight of freedom of speech and free will.

Most of the time, it’s the little girl within me wanting to please everyone else or wondering what everyone else thinks that makes me indecisive. And to think I was spontaneous when on the contrary I over weigh things.

The package comes with the over regretting too, and when you think about huge life changing decisions you cant help but to go what if I make the wrong choice? Everyone tells you that marriage is one of the biggest decisions in life you will make and that notion leads to a string of domino effects. The idea that we deserve the ‘perfect’ mate, the idea that we should wear make up and look good on a date, the idea that she should be pretty and smart, the idea that he should romantic.. Its almost as if the icing was set so that we would bite into the cake.

Its irony that the idea of love is suppose to be as close to ‘unconditional,’ overlooking our flaws and yet we look for what we, or even more popular what our parents, friends, church mates and all the rif raf’s in our life deem best.


Another cookie in my life I can’t swallow. What if ten years down the road I’m married and then I realized I should’ve married someone else? Its almost like a cruel joke I can play on myself.

Perhaps that’s why I should elope on a spur of the moment decision. Give me more than 5 seconds to consider anything and ill never decide.

My cousin is getting married next year, and ‘the bridesmaids’ haven’t stopped singing..

Going to the chapel and we’re gonna get married..
Going to the chapel and we’re gonna get married..
Going to the chapel and we’re gonna get married..
Boy I really love you and we’re gonna get married..
Going to the chapel of love!

I’m glad not everyone’s like me at least I get to wear a cute dress, eat wedding cake and dance to jingling nona’s once a year! That i have no regret's

Yours fickle as ever,

joops & jason at their wedding in Bentong last weekend, which is nearer to PD than it is to Klang. Good small town dinner made up for horrible maps..

the three of us at Camp Cam sang so loud with all the knockings on the table, we woke up some pretty angry campers..

this is what my "date" does when i say put on a tie!

we went to morib beach, uni senior, now psychologist watches the sunset..

morib's historical site of soldiers that landed here...

one of the many things we outgrow, inhibitions..

Wednesday, November 16, 2005

suNdAy sHoEs

Dear jess,

Inserted behind is a form for you to tick your religion. You may pick from these categories Buddhist, Hindu and White.

I pave my way out a church I’ve been visiting for a couple of weeks now. It’s built so amazingly that my friend says ‘the money could’ve been used to pay for 10 new churches.’ As I make my way to my friend’s car I see a few Mercedes, BM’s and an assortment of fine sweets parked near our humble car.

Its part of living a city life. Whilst some Catholic churches refuse to spend money on ceiling fans which I’m sure can cause fainting in those packed places one day, Protestants continue on the war they’ve waged against these “Christians.”

Some people come together after the young adults and head to some expensive restaurant in the city whilst some church leaders go into the project they’ve started with the family of the victims of JE, which we of course have conveniently forgotten.

Whilst we spend hundreds and thousands on singing Christmas trees so that people can come to us, others wait in the jungles and shiver with delight just because we’ve gone caroling with them.

Post Colonial Malaysia. We have inherited a white culture. Ive lived, grown, eaten, slept church. It is a place where I can sit in the aircond and laugh my heart out with people who’ve known me since I was a kid. Church is upper middle class English, with people who go there in dresses. There doesn’t seem to be a place for the poor as we walk on by with our Gucci shoes and Prada bags. Sure we don’t have anything against them, just our pretty church building might.

We battle to retain singing English hymns like it was our own culture, keep pews because we think its what should be in a church, wear a tie on a Sunday in a country that lives near the freaking Khatulistiwa and look so blankly when someone speaks in Bahasa Malaysia to the congregation.

Like I said, religion? White.


Saturday, November 12, 2005

uNvEiLinG the wReCk!

dear jess,

Its official. Im a wreck. Not only were those thoughts reconfirmed today, i had to do a "which desperate housewife are you" test that reaffirms this. I am Susan! Yeap, messy, clumsy, accident prone Susan.

Here's me. It takes me one week to convince myself to do something i hate, one week until i cant bear either the jabbing pain in my brain to go to the doctors, one week till i feel the sudden urge to pay the bills, one week till anything might remotely happen.

Procrastinating is one thing. Panicking is another. So after the one week of talking to myself that i need to do what it is i have to do, i do. Except that when i get to doing what i have to do; i have the tendency to panic, sweat, my heartbeat rate increases for the whole 2 hours, and ultimately i screw up. And what do i need? Someone to come to my rescue.

*throws hands in the air* Not only am i disappointed in the fact that today i had to do something new, scary and all by myself but failed in keeping myself calm and composed! Worse still i could think of two people i desperately wanted to be by my side and still i refused to call them because i wanted to do this by myself. Of course i failed and ultimately did make that call.

Its official. Im a wuss. I'd rather leave and run away than to face a task that is unknown and all by myself, which i almost literally did today.

Once i was late for a performance, and what do i do? Take the wrong turn a few hundred times. Then what? yes, once again, someone has to come to my rescue. It all becomes blurry when im panicking.

I dont mind sleeping in what looked like a seemingly haunted room all by myself in a foreign country but i cant drive myself to a performance without screwing up. Bravo.

Thanks to all my "knight in shining armours" im still emotionally and phsycially alive although i understand myself lesser everyday.. i think i make Susan look sane.

who are you?ps. guys find out which ones they marry!


Thursday, November 10, 2005

sPaRe cHanGe aNyBoDy?

dear jess,

My travel guru, who doesnt know ive just gave him that title has recently walked the Camino De Santiago, Spain. It is as ive mentioned in my previous letters, but for your sake, knowing you skipped or burned some of my previous letters; tell you again that the Camino is a pilgrimage journey thats about 37 days (800km) walk and ends at Santiago de Compostella where St James is laid. Legend remains that his disciples transported him to be buried here. The route since then has become a famous Christian pilgrimage, and is covered by beautiful landscapes. Okay, history lesson over. Back to my 'guru'

He left more than a year ago and recently i have found out how much it took for him to get started on this endless backpacking journey. 5000 ringgit, a relative home in London, and a month to get a job. 5000. thats probably a quarter of what some people i know make in a month. Okay so maybe a quarter is exaggeration.

So here iam. Left in my dreams and what he has made a reality. I know when he was babblin about this to me, i marked it off as a phase and almost wished he wouldnt do it. But im glad my wishes didnt come true cos his dreams have become mine! And i know soon enough there will be people, including myself who will wish this insane dreaming will stop.

You know, sometimes you sit there and tell yourself insane passions will stop, just as some have in the past. Then you imagine that you will live a good life where your highlight will be a wedding to a man you could live with, and not to the one you couldnt live without.

I mean there will always be honeymoons, holidays and retreats and with the family, normal family fights and dinners, joys and excitement when my cousins marry and i nominate myself to be the bridesmaid, tears and sadness when someone dies. Instead i want to exchange this for dirty toilets, damp beds, strange places, inedible food, possible arguments with travel partners, showers that will give me fungus, cheating cabbies or worse still those that will mug me.

What kind of insanity am i wanting here?

Spare me 5000 ringgit and ill tell you.

Yours counting every single penny,

Wednesday, November 09, 2005

mOo-iNg in Se-TYLE

dear jess,

seen any cool cows lately?. love this site. absolutely.
yours moo-ing,


Sunday, November 06, 2005

conFesSiOns oF a sEriAL boReDom-Er

“There are some people who live in a dream world, and there are some who face reality; and then there are those who turn one into the other”
Douglas Everett

dear jess,

I sit here at 12.32 am in the morning, sipping a three in one that insults hardcore coffee drinkers but meets my every desperate need to stay alive. My mind flashes back, as that’s where it seems its only capable of going and I think about the words “sliding away boring” that a friend so aptly describes his life, and he lives in a country where renaissance was born.

It goes further back again, now im convinced my mind only has a reverse gear, to the time when I met the most “colourful” people on earth. We all had one goal, more or less. To make life as abnormal as possible.

One would put up plays no matter how rotten and spend his every last penny on, and the other would throw out caution to the wind and travel the world, and work only when he had too. He, my idol for now, has recently walked the Camino de Santiago! A man who travels alone and rejects the normality of a day job, not living up his sonly duties is probably looked down on, but he has all my respect.

12.37 am.

I can hear the clock ticking in my head like a time bomb.

12.39 am.

Suddenly i discover the 1st gear, then the fourth. And so what if i do accomplish this madness? That one day i will go and never return, that one day i too will walk the Camino, see Andalucia, and maybe even the Renaissance period, the Mongolians, the groups of people no one has heard, and just about everything my mind and heart isnt even capable of containing!

12.40 am

Does the cycle of madness and continuous fix of adrenaline end? Will normality suddenly return when im done with wherever and suddenly discover that i shall settle down on a forsaken island and work, what else but a 9-5 job, maybe selling mango shakes and cappucino's?

12.44 am. future. on forsaken island. tanned beyond recognition.

Sitting down sipping cappucino, Mind goes into reverse gear thinking of the time i walked the Camino and met the Mongolians. Grow old and become one of those women who bore the grandkids with travel stories. Tell them where i grew up only to have them look back at me blank. Sit on the rocking chair and think..

My life is sliding away boring.

12.47 am
picks up cappucino. flashes back to home. Wonder what they've done with the house i use to live in.

yours in need of a fix,

Friday, November 04, 2005

Road To Taiping..

You must choose a road for yourself. –Kazoo Koike, in Road to Perdition, Max Allan Collins

Dear jess,

Collins opens his- I would call it almost inspiring- story that goes, “my memoirs like some people’s dreams, are in black and white.” It seems almost wrong to call his piece a comic. But then again im the same person who has a collection of Simpsons comic books stacked in the vault behind the secret door.

My stories will never be like his, because I almost hate to tell sometimes, or perhaps I just don’t know how to. Whilst im sure every first timer comic book writer didn’t start out writing it in letters to you, im going to attempt to anyway..

For every person who has had sudden inspirations..

Main Road, Taiping, 1960's. sometime's the only way to move forward, is to look back.

i do look back. And sometimes my past doesnt seem to inspire my future, and you wonder if you change at all. Whilst people cling on to the past, i just want me to change drastically, but maybe its everyone else around me i want to change so that they be more like me. The church reminds me of my faith, and im still challenged at what that means. An internal wager to reach 'normality' versus spirituality as i find out from the aussie guidebook tat taiping has the oldest church in malaysia! nope, its not this one though, its in my previous post..

we were excited, and i had two hours of sleep because my normal sleeping time was 6. so as i lay awake in bed my mind just kept working away. Fortunately my co-pilot, elsa drove alot for me. We missed our tim sum at ipoh, the food in penang sucked, and the sales people in keloxi just loves harassing me. However it was a crazy time of singing, making our own mtv's and meeting frens. Or rather fren.

Thursday, November 03, 2005

its always the little things in life isnt it? everyone has a sense of humour, you just have to look hard enough..

Open Most Days About 9 or 10
Occasionally as Early as 7,8 But some days as late as 12 or 1. We Close about 5.30 or 6 Occasionally about 4 or 5, but sometimes as late as 11 or 12. Some days or afternoons we arent here at all, and lately ive been here just about all the time, accept when im someplace else, but i should be here then, too.

everyone thinks theyre a comedien, aint it.

there's no guessing who the comedian in my family is Its the first time we went karaokeing as one big group. it was super fun, we sang and danced to kuch kuch.. ahem what happens in the room stays in the room, fortunately.

what does my family do when we travel? we play taboo, eat, "argue", laugh hysterically, eat, shop, more taboo, eat and of course invite ourselves over to some dude's deepavali house.. to.. eat..

As we drove to the house, i look down and notice that my shirt is worn inside out. Thanks to tinted car glass, pillows and co-ed school changing skills, the shirt was flipped in a second! Of course, nothings complete on deepavali until you lick your fingers..

There were days when pigging out could be justified easily, for example meals at 'circus grounds" cost 27ish. And there were 9 of us..

i should pause my reporting mode here and continue to attempt the storytelling. i remember in patches my childhood here, being on this huge slides.. when mum and aunty marie took us here. Today we take 5 year old ian. Life sometimes just happens before you know it.

as you drive down the roads of the lake, the trees lean over and just stops not touching the lake. Almost as if it knows when to stop, of course its just most likely a man comes and cuts it
more reflections agaisnt the water..

the setting sun against the lake reminds me of the setting sun against the sea that i love so much. Besides the many setting sun memoirs, it might be about reflections too.

a pancake a day keeps the blues away..

we packed all geared to jump into the lake, but it rained non stop, and we heard tragic previous stories of people getting washed away by the flowing stream during heavy rains. my uncle was an eyewitness to one such case as he stepped out of the water seconds before a gush to witness a woman being washed away with the fierce streams..

Look up to Maxwell Hill, when its cloudy, going streaming can be fatal.. The gush of the stream coming from the top of the mountain can't be heared until its too late! Beauty so enticing and deceiving all at the same time..

All souls day, 2005. Speaking of; it was like walking into the past. The long grass that cuts, the scorching heat, the waryness not to step on someones grave. We come face to face with where we can see eternal rest.

The sun hits me hard on my head, shocks me as its been raining the last few days. Something else hits. Its the first time in a year that we're back. I wonder how my mum does, and in silence, some things besides tears come flowing back..

We light candles for mama, aunty marie and elaine's grandparents, ex boxer kid pancho and his mrs. The wind breezes and the candles go off, almost as if it itself didnt want to hear about the past..

And so the journey ends, the memories remain. That's how my memory is i suppose. In pictures, captions and abstact colour. i scream, family photo! and a flashback in my head of our last family photo- with everyone in it, years ago, at mama's birthday. A few many people will outlive me, i wonder what abstract colour i will be then..

the rain i adore returns to accompany me. Its strength as strong as its beauty and shaded by the wonders of the hillside i lean back, step on the pedal and head home..
and as i put this letter in the envelope and send it to you i realise, as you would by now that my career in comic scriptwritting will never take off. Oh well, maybe after some violence and blood shed drawings, maybe ill make it big.

Until then, i shall resign to normal and mundane life stories. No apologies beforehand.

yours scratching off,

Saturday, October 29, 2005

giVe mE hOpE!

The notion that thought can be perfectly or even adequately expressed in verbal symbols is idiotic
Alfred North Whitehead

Dear jess,

Remember how I told you that there were two demons, fear and expectations that can cripple you? And yet at the same time its an unavoidable human emotion. Heres another. Hope.

Well, its almost the same as expectation really, but different. Its that feeling when you really hope something will happen AND you cant do anything about. Hope, helplessness.

Like when your boyfriend is on a standby list in Copenhagen and you miss him like crazy. Or when your job takes you to another state and you hope like hell the girl you like will say something. Or the person you think you’re meant to be with simply because you love the titles he reads and his life philosophies are a million miles away.

Hope creeps in. With nothing to rely on except your emotions.

Independent, single woman have a way of guarding their hearts. They don’t have expectations, and they don’t have hope. And anything that makes them vulnerable to being helpless, which obviously means falling in love will be pushed aside.

Im not sure which is worse really. Hope is like waiting and gambling. You bet all your emotional rupiah’s on that one single hope that he will come back, that she will say yes or that you'll see him again, and then you wait, and wait, and ….

And when you’re broke, you realize how stupid it was and you think to yourself, its ok, ill win someday- ill hope again.

yours trapped,

Friday, October 28, 2005

pLaY niCe

dear jess

Why is it that no one tells the woman who I have to work with that she’s rude? Or the relative that she shouldn’t be speaking to me that way? Or the friend, who makes remarks that doesn’t want to compromise that her attitude means I have to do more just so she’s comfortable?

Why are we "nice"? Perhaps because we dont want to be told the same? Remember when you're young and you wanted to fit into the popular group but never will? Its a stupid thing to want but still no matter what jerks they were, you were nice?

Does being nice to you means i have to bear with your selfishness and bitterness whilst i just smile and convince myself im doing the right thing?
Imagine a world where there was no hypocricy? we would just be as depressed. Go ahead, put on that smile whilst we all just take it in. Imagine a world where we said what we really thought at exactly the right time? Imagine the crudeness and the pain. The honesty and the openess?

Of course. im sure there are tonnes of people i owe my sanity because they're at this moment being "nice" and tolerating me.

*jess closes eyes* to savour moments taken for granted

in the meanwhile, happy holidays. The girls- those who were so unfortunate to be related to me are driving back, making road trip with loads of food stop. Know what the mum says? dont laugh so much! she thinks that elaine, elsa and me are going to laugh non stop for three, five hours. Hmm them again it isnt impossible. We've repeted lines from Dumb and Dumber a thousand times and we still find it absolutely hilarious!!! tag you're it!


Wednesday, October 26, 2005

bitter, better, best

dear jess,

have you ever noticed that people can be subtlely bitter, without even knowing it? Sometimes you wonder what theyve been through and why theyre that way? Whilst people half way around the globe are ducking hurricanes, and us fortunate people go shopping at tesco's? i mean its been a weird some days for me with people snarling at me for not doing anything. Here's my style, stare back, 'jelink' and then burn furiously inside!

Sure, that is if theyre right in front or your face, but what about sms'es or msn's? Have you noticed how when you tell someone about how trivially happy you are people make "subtle" remarks and "faces" that they cant just be happy for you? Sometimes i think even they dont know it! i use to think i would be bitter. But i think ive just met my match(es), either that or there is something or someone keeping me happy, and everyone else bitter?

hey maybe theres still hope for me?
ive been trying to learn to swim since i was a kid. It always ends up with my stuffed nose, and an unhappy ending. Lately ive been at the pool so often with the cousins, that we have taught ourselves, more or less how to swim. And you know what? i feel cheated.

All this while, theres been people around me who knew how to swim when i was gulping water, and you know they never once in their lives taught me how to swim! And i know a certain someone who knew how to float and when i found out, all it takes to float is to hold your breath! why is it that no one tells me this? All they tell me is how well they float or swim.

Its a knowledge conspiracy. Some things in life are simple. People say, i dunno how to teach you, when they can just tell you this is how i do it. Sometimes we gulp so much of water that we finally realise we didnt need to.
To be honest, i still think theres something i need to know that i dont, and im doing something wrong when i push my head out for a breath. But i guess if no ones going to teach me im just going to have to gulp for now.

yours drowning and happy, what a rarity for the latter eh?


speaKing of dRowniNg..

Reasons for travelling, reason number 6:-
To bore people with your travel slides/photos/videos
How many times have you sat through a boring slide show put on by your friends and family and wished the floor would open up and swallow you? Traveling gives you a chance to return the favour.
(taken from No Shitting In The Toilet, Moore)
the end of my trip, with my beloved lonely planet, sigh..
spend some days here, rooms are cleaner than my room back home :P
the last walk down the street, looking at the places we've spend. the internet cafe
i stayed here some days, dont be deceived the rooms are damp
my last walk down this street, i love the fact that its bricked, with everyone coming but never staying...


simone, federico and luca. its really fun just watching them speak italian
its true what they say about italian men... ;)
Federico & Luca - ora di colazione :)

bAck in BanGkok

if anyone asks, this is how bangkok really looks like, just like.. home..
sculpture behind the musicians
musicians sitting at the park playing traditional tunes
the thai's had some sort of festival and belief, that involved feeding the birds or fishes (they were huge!) or buying a fish and letting it go as a sign of err kindness? i cant remember, then again maybe i never knew..


mmmmmm doughnuts..
grashoppers and crickets. to be honest, you just taste the msg, but the crickets were the yummiest. no kidding!

NaTioNal MuSeuM

National Museam (part of its many parts) the largest museum in southeast asia! and i had to go twice lar!... its good tho
burung garuda, garuda birds, mythical creatures, its so cool seeing it when i learned about it at.. err now if only i can remember what and where i learned about these creatures.. sigh
according to a thai pop culture book, thais have a way of shaping their hedges...
this looks like a scene from LOTR man! wooo hehe
now thats what we call a door!

wEstErNiseD eaSteRneS..

never occured to me how roasted i was till i sat next to the sista!!!!!!!! i blame my cynical half
jess: now accordin to Lonely Planet tourist shouldnt be eating western food in Thailand! mei: i dunno, that looks pretty good..