tHe mAn iN mY LiFe rEcEnTLy..

he sings me to sleep every nightt AHHHHHHH
thanks my c-half, its one of the bestest burf-day gifts
ever!

cHiLLy & chOcoLatE anYonE?

wont tell you how it tastes, go imagine. The dark
chocs good tho. Ah tim tams, the love of my life..
advice - never buy the ones made in indonesia.

eVeRy eNtRaNcE tO mY hEArT hAs 10 ExiTs

dear jess,

ive written and re-written this, unable to capture my emotions, without harming the emotions of others. What I felt? Immense anger. Ive always been a personal person, and for good reasons to as I can see today. If had it my way, if I got married no one would be invited. To me that’s not a social event. How I fell in love, in hate, in mistakes, none of it is anyone’s business unless I made it so.

I guess every idiot has its day, including me. I trusted someone. Odd, I had that doubt nagging me at the back. That’s the last time I give anyone a second chance. Alas, now its gone a step further, my life has been retold in some form. Sweet.

I could spew on and on about how angry I am and perhaps equalize the anger here, and so everyone knows. Whats it worth. That’s silly aint it? Im sure people have their explanations that even me in my fury can see. Im sure people have explanations for accidentally telling someone else your intimate thoughts, im sure people have explanations for hearing someone’s intimate thoughts and telling everyone else, even indirectly, yes im sure they do. None of them would satisfy me though.

Now bugger off, and let me grow old cynical, angry, and not trusting the world anymore. My anger is not because I couldn’t trust, but the irony that some people can think that private issues can be made public. In addition, sometimes it implicates other people than me. My life and the lives of other people are never public material.

There it goes. When and if, I get married, have kids, and die, you will be sent a postcard, if you’re lucky.

Thinking is the hardest work there is, which is the probable reason why so few engage in it.
-Henry Ford


Yours when anger doesnt even describe,
jess

tHe aNti pRoZaC dRuG cOuLd bE tHE aNsWeR

dear jess,

do you realize that our lives revolve around bitching about something? That if we are truly, truly happy it doesn’t make any sense? I know its bizarre but it seems so wrong to say that everything in your life is going great, and you wouldn’t want to change it, well of course except for the occasional extraordinary people who win some reality show (what is entertainment becomin these days, lets talk about that some other day over a dollop of affogato)

If someone succeeds we silently curse him and in the back of your, fine, my mind you, i mean i, will list all his faults. And here's one, we hate chirpy people, i mean seriously what is their problem???? Can't they stop smiling so much, im pretty sure there's someone dying unjustified in an unknown country somewhere, while their smirk becomes engraved.

We love the fact that people annoy us and there are those that are so stupid we can become angry over, or give them a piece of our mind. A perfect world seems kinda far fetched and, err not so interesting?

I mean where then would all the people we bitched about end up? Who would we make fun off if there wasn’t a "im to old to go clubbin guy" at rum jungle who dances like there's a "cockroach in his pants" with tennis shoes, hands up in the air, to a song that was popular during the stone age; or what kind of conversations would we have if it wasn’t over the idiocy of the guy at the gym who asks you to follow the rules that makes no sense, but he tells you to do it with determination.

And seriously, who would we be left to bitch about if there wasn’t those annoyingly happy people that can't turn a smile into a frown?
Imperfectness. Its a drug. Or maybe our 'true happiness' comes from other peoples horrid miseries or this imperfection helps us appreciate the good times in our lives. Who knows.

Right now I’ll just look forward to all my little joys in life from Starbucks to eating Italian tomorrow with my cynical half and the "bloke wit the case of the mysterious missing autographed CD" (that’s another story altogether) WHislT we three perhaps bitch about the miseries of life, and people...

"Life is a hospital in which every patient is possessed by the desire to change his bed."
-Charles Baudelaire

love, or should i say hate?? :)
jess

wHiRLpOoL oF dEsIrE

dear jess,

there's no sudden desire to write to you today, but i will try perhaps just to fulfill the satisfaction that i have written something.

See also : People pleaser, Pathetic & Desperate.

Its interesting to see how people think just by reading what they write. There's always the usual people chatting about their love lives, or rather the lack of it, the pressures of marriage, and so on so forth that i find rather tiring. I suppose i myself can go into it, and make a list of who i want to end up with, where i want to get married, and name all my kids, which probably i already have at the back of my mind only to be dissapointed, that my life wont turn out the way i planned it.

See also : Wedding, Sex, Romance, Names For Little Boys and Girls.

Moving on. I can write you another immensely depressing letter about my past hurts pains and torments but ive already done that, plus i had Starbucks today and Starbucks always puts a smile on my face, so there goes my painful inspiration much needed for some form of artisticness otherwise non-existant.

See also : Frappucino, Deppresion and Prozac.

I can write you my future dreams, my hopes, etc etc. But that sounds so boring or too exciting that i fear it might never come true. Or perhaps im in a state where time feels like its paused and there's nothing much to look forward too.

See also: Self-Pity, Time Travel and Idiots Guide to becoming a succesful person

So i dont have anything significant to write. But you read this anyway. Ill come back again when im inspired. If that happens.

See also: Idiot.

yours,
jess

wEdDinG bLiSS

drAmA qUeEns

mY dArLiNg gAviN, WHeRe ArT tHOu??

Dear jess,

Ive gone to three places, and loads of other illegal outlets, when I asked if they’ve seen Gavin they all either tell me no, or ask me to look elsewhere. Today was the most depressing, not only did they say no they don’t have him, they say that loads of other people have come in asking for him!

His name is Gavin deGraw, my latest infatuation. And if you haven’t heard him you probably heard Bo Bice sing his “I don’t wanna be.” They play gavin on the radio so much, lately with ‘Chariot” and yet, no Cd’s fake or real here.

The fact that other people are looking for it and there isn’t any makes me want him more. This aussie chap, has a lovely, sexy, infectious voice that makes me sigh, or smile, most of the time both.

In my spur of desperation I remembered I asked my cynical half to get it.. but I wasn’t sure if she did, and at that very moement she could be on the plane back already! So I message her only to find out she did get it for me!! And she said I’d be extra happy, ill find out why later.. I cant figure it out, unless of course she’s bringing gavin back for me to..

So ive heard only two full songs of Gavin, and snippets of others, but im shaking with excitement and anticipation to get it! No one else is going to get to loan it, the last time that happened with my much beloved Third Day Cd, from US, the answer I got back is “eh dunno where” “want me to burn you a copy?” Yes im still upset over it..

yours in a sweet chariot,
jess

iN a GaLaXy fAr FaR FaRRRRRRRR awAY

dear jess,

geeek alert coming up. i watched star wars premier yesterday, after my beloved (must lar now..) danny offered me and kit free tix. Just the week before i heard the church guys chatting about their much anticipated show that they will watch tonight and here i was thinking, wow, luck must be on my side, a handful of guys i know would kill me to watch it a day before everyone else.

there's always something that gets me when the music comes on and the words begin to roll on the screen, the classic memories of episodes 4,5 and 6 comes back again. Anyways, after free pop corn, coke and the movie, i found myself grabbing for a free poster! sigh the things i do, i got the last copy of the 'nice' poster that wasnt torn.

So here's the thing, i know a friend who loves star wars more than me. And whilst im not referring to a best friend who made me watch episode one 3 times in the cinema.. i started to ask myself. Do i really want the poster because i know i have something that is of value to someone else, which as i speak the poster has just seconds ago fallen off from my door.. stupid blu tag. Or do i really want it, because i liked it too?

Sigh, i have an odd guilt conscience and i couldnt live with the fact that i knew i would have something i know someone else would love more than me, but at the same time i realised i didnt want to give mine up either.. so what did i do?

On my way out, i saw a bunch of posters, but they werent being given out.. so i drove past, and when the other cinemas were out, i pushed my friend next to to me out of the car to go get another one! She was kinda rejected the first time, so she asked again, this time to someone else.

So there it goes, i have two now, and im giving one away. So if anyone wants the 'perfect' untorn huge nice poster of Star Wars episode 3.. u can go fly a kite.. or of course you can watch it at tgv, which apparently is giving out posters for every ticket you buy. Darn all this and probably the dude im giving the poster would watch the show at tgv just to get it.

All this for something that will land in my rubbish bin in a few years time. Sigh, oh well, I shall go bask in the satisfaction that i got to watch it first before alot of hard core fans. im so full of myself.. lovely.

yours,

jess

iVe diScOvErED wHaT LeAvEs mE SpEecHLeSs..

dear jess,

i hate writting too many letters in a short span of time, because i usually think that the previous letter makes a much better read, especially in this instance, and i figure people would skip reading that. However, i have discovered the one thing that made me absolutely speechless tonight.

i ironed an absolutely difficult pants, wore heels, willingly got lost in KL to watch a play i was looking forward to. Its been a while since i stepped into a theatre and the feeling gave me joy again- shortlived.

The play opened with a guy who was shouting, as it seems i think he thought he was projecting his voice. He then starts to limp and after two seconds of pushing the thought that im being a perfectionist, he stops limping. So was he suppose to limp? Ok nevermind. Then the whole family goes on stage, says lots of line, the plot goes no where, actors are shouting, the conversations were as fake as pamela anderson's front, the ligths were going off at the wrong time, the setting looked worse than that of a school play (im very defemsive of school plays these days haha)....

For the first time ever, i found myself looking at the curtain, counting the lights rigged up there, and like in an episode of Simpsons, my mind said "you can stay here but im leaving." Then there it was, intermission, i turned looked at mei, and we both couldn't say a word! We walked out of the play, its the first ever play ive walked out of, to which our only regret was not leaving earlier. Usually no matter how bad, you wanna give it a chance or at least see how the story ends.

And for the first time, i couldnt say a word, all i did was groan, and sighed, over and over and over. It was such an "overwhelming" experience of displeasure. Im still shaking my head thinking about how bad it was. Well, if its one thing we knew, we had to give ourselves enormous amounts of pleasure to erase such negative emotions, so what did we do? have lasagna and choc nescafe ice blended at williams, of course. Ahhhhhhh

Every single play we've done or watch that we thought were horrible fades in comparison. Gosh, we have definitely got extremely talented people in MAM :) makes u appreciate it loads. I so feel like hugging all our lighting people, actors, SMs, ASM's...

If im ever in a play that bad, dont tell me its bad, just shoot me.

ps. thanks michael, love the thought hated the show.. :)

yours thanking God for a guy named william,
jess

pLeAsE gEt nAkED

dear jess,

As i start to take my clothes off i can feel the cold wind blow against my neck. No, this is far from a short porn romance, the irony of that statement, but hopefully just as daring. What does being nude feel like? In front of prying eyes? I start to shiver because as much of a beauty as people proclaim naked bodies to be, they are shameful. How can anything God create be a shame? As i stand there my mind takes me away to the days of Rome, when men's physique were worship and made statues of.

I look down, and i see that there have been spots and marks that ive never even notice were there before. Then i try to cry, but fail, the emotion seemingly stuck halfway in my throat. I curse, then the eyes, already staring at me with great piercing depth becomes fiery.

I think for an endless moment what i should do in this horrible situation. Having failed to come up with a solution, and being unable to run away my mind starts to wander.

No one is ever free to run naked without being ridiculed. Our bodies are a product of everyone else but us, what everyone thinks but us, we are never us. We never dare to be ourselves, we never say what we think and and we are never honest.

We never tell the guy who makes a mockery out of us at work how we feel, we never stand up for ourselves, we never move to make a difference in an ever suffering world although we dream it, we never tell our best friends that the shirt they wear makes them look like crap, we never, never, God forbid cross that line of social politeness and etiquette.

When we go to church we become even more a fake than we already are. We put our little halo's and sit on the pews, we smile and greet whilst at the back of our minds we think that we'd rather be in bed, or out bitching about the person we just wished good morning to. We put other people, religions and denominations down whilst we sit on that same pew, that has a stamp of how our butt looks like whilst people suffer all over the world, we say yes, lets love one another. We never tell others that we're struggling with issues of sex and porn because we'd rather be unreal than admit that we are forgiven humans.

We watch someone perform then say "good job" and try to smile, whilst hiding the obvious, we become trademarks of who our parents want us to be, and because we're too young or too insecure we never dare show them who we really are or what we really think of them, we never say no simply because we are tired or we just dont feel like seeing your face today. Instead we say yes, because we need to be nice.

We never let other people see us pick our noses, and we will never tell them straight to their faces that we dont like them.

We never, never take our clothes off in public. Because really its shameful. Isnt it?. We never notice what we really look like naked and we fear being honest with everyone and ourselves. We will never be who we really are, or even come close to knowing who we are, and we will always live within the barriers of social norms. We will never talk back to our parents or bosses, and they will never know how we really feel or think, allowing them to assume we are who they want us to be. And we always will, just be.

We will always hide underneath the big t-shirts and cute baby tee's that will clothe our bulging fats, and of course our... for the sake of being polite, i will restrain what i really want to say.

See? we will never be naked in public and create shock, but truthfulness. We will never be the person at our death, be spoken of as the one who spoke the truth, but instead we probably will be the one that was 'nice to everyone' and as everyone departs from our funeral, they'll go away thinking that we liked them.

We'd rather stride around in our clown suits, than proudly walk naked in public.

"As a gay man, ive found that its easier for me to get sex on the streets than to get a hug in church"

yours,
jess

a LoVe LeTtER..

dear jess,

i fear i have fallen out of love. Where once i would shiver with passion, i now shun in cold. Where once i would be jealous of everyone else being with him, i now am ignorant to his existance.

When i first met him, i was head, heels over him. I wanted him so much, i threw everything away, just to be with him. I waited a year, then i left what i knew, my job, and stepped into new unknown territory.

We always had our cherished times. We pursued the dream together. We went to auditions, we were there when mark, as much a novice as us was nominated at the first kakiseni awards!, when we first performed at bangsar, when joe hasham directed us, when we were sharing hugs with dato' rahim, a.k.a my bapak!, when we saw gavin put his skirt and heels on, when we saw edwin strutt along in his G-string (eew), when bernie shared make up tips with us, and so much more.

We were also there when directors screamed at us, when most auditions became rejections, when rehearsals finished at 1 and work began at 9 the next day. We were there when everyone we knew 'made it' but us.

He use to be able to give me chills. One that made me shudder with excitement of the very chance of performing, or just watching others perform. There is no other feeling like the feeling of the last 5 seconds before you go on stage. And that, that was what i used to live for, to feel the strike of fear of not being able to perform, and trying to rise above it. It was the high he gave me.

I ask myself if i still love him? I dont know, but i will always have a special place for the arts in my heart, and hopefully one day i will fall head and heals again.

The reward of art is not fame or success but intoxication: that is why so many bad artists are unable to give it up.
- Jean Cocteau

love,
jess

tEn tHinGs tO dO At 6.30aM

1-10 : gEt dReSsEd iN yOur dRamA cLassEs ChiEf fiRemEn's HaT & aXE. OfF tO fIGhT fIrE! TA!

look at the way im sittting! some things really dont change after ten years! 

TiMeEeEee is oN yOuR sIdE

dear jess,

Time does funny things to you. Not just you physically, but mentally as well. The one enemy no one has avoided yet, age. When you're 21 and roses are still red, aspirations seem bright. When you are 27 and the clock strikes 12, you sit at home and go what do i do know? Should i mix bourbon and coke and drink it down by myself watching something lame on tv? Or go prepare for the class i have to teach tomorrow? Then as it does to you every year, you start to think about your "achievements" in life, and the wonderful perceptions people have of you. What? you only work that few days? What? you're not done with that theses yet? What? you dont have like a "real" job? And of course being the 'brave' person you are you just shrug off the normal concept of 'securities' and secretly laugh it off, as they dont know the the real 'perks' you get. Thats fine and dandy.

Time. It also makes you more cynical and harsh, less caring about having to be nice to people, and my favourite- the guts to tell people what you think, most of the time. You stop caring about making impressions, and you have the 'if you dont like me attitude, too bad.'

All the reality in consideration, it has been a decade. A whole ten years. And so we did it, and apparently we were pioneers too! RBS96 got together and celebrated our 10 year anniversary! It was a strange thing to describe. What do you do when you meet so many people you havent seen in ten years? Remember in the days when you use to wonder what you would do or be like in ten years time? Well heres my conclusion...

myth : In ten years time most of us would be married with kids or at least attached.
reality: most of us would have put on weight, with honest frens to remind us of it.

myth: in ten years time, we'll be driving nice big cars with professional jobs to back them up.
reality: in ten years time, we'rel still struggling probably hoping for a nice big car in the next
ten years.

myth : in ten years time people will know how to spell
reality: in ten years time some people still make spelling mistakes, twice.

myth: in ten years time you'll be matured
reality: sigh, maybe another ten?

myth : all guys become gentlemen, given another ten years?
reality: the faster you stop believing that myth the better your life will be :)

myth & reality: yes, that guy on malaysian idol was from RBS!! (im spinning around..)

I could probably go on another ten years, perhaps what striked me hugely about people who've gone through lengths to be there that night were two things. In our group, we had people who range from doctors to teachers, our oldest RBS graduate is 65, two who already have kids, those in US or Australia, and yet what striked me was the reality. We didnt come to compare successes although im sure there were many, but instead i saw in the eyes of everyone the pain and trials they had gone through in their lives, and the reality that after ten years they are still found faithful.

Of course the second thing that strike me was that we had our pictures on a cake! Wait that sounded shallow. Hence my point that some things really dont change even after ten years.

...you're not how much money you've got in the bank. You're not your job. You're not your family, and you're not who you tell yourself.... You're not your name.... You're not your problems.... You're not your age.... You are not your hopes. Fight Club, Chuck Palahniuk

yours, for ten more years,
jess

theRe wE arE siGh hOw tiMe doTh fLy 

iM sPiNNinG aRouNd..

first time viewers of the infamous malaysian idol audition. check out the worker at the back amusingly picking in. he's just as surprised!!

d DeCo tEaM n.. SheRmAn tsK tSk 

siGH isNt thIs thE mOst aMaZing cAkE evEr!

cAn you spOt mE haha wiTh boBbEd hAir!! ps. i ate myself

LeTs dEcOrAtE! 

tHis WiLL B aRcHiVe fOr oUr 20th AnvRsrY!