iM coMinG hOme, wiLL yOu?

dear jess,

language is a strange thing. some things should never be translated. i remember people who tell me that they cant or wont listen to malay songs. to say they dunno what they're missing is an understatement.

Aku tak percaya lagi
dengan apa yang kau beri
Aku terdampar di sini
tersudut menunggu mati

Aku tak percaya lagi
akan guna matahari
Dengan mampu menerangi
sudut gelap hati ini

Aku berhenti berharap
dan menunggu datang gelap
Sampai nanti suatu saat
tak ada cinta kudapat

Kenapa ada derita
bila bahagia tercipta
Kenapa ada sang hitam
bila putih menyenangkan…

Chorus:Aku pulang…tanpa dendam
Kuterima.. kekalahanku
Aku pulang…tanpa dendam
Kusalutkan.. kemenanganmu

Bridge:Kau ajarkan aku bahagia
Kau ajarkan aku derita
Kau tunjukkan aku bahagia
Kau tunjukkan aku derita
Kau berikan aku bahagia
Kau berikan aku derita

Berhenti Berharap by Sheila on 7

dont take my word for it. i promise you there is no way you can hear this song without being moved. one wonders, how every now and then music that lives up to its definition passes us by..

itu kamu, (nama lagu dari kumpulan estranged ;)
jess

loVe diScRimiNAteS

dear jess,

remember how it was when we were growing up, girls would ask each other "whats ur ideal guy like?" and then we'd say something stupid like, nice eyes, etc etc. and remember how when we went for camps, people speaking would say, "make a list, so we know what to look for?" and then, we would idealise that we "deserve" that man because we are oh so great.

and then we'd walk in the shopping malls and say how that pretty girl shouldnt be with that ugly guy, or how that fat chick shouldn't be with the skinny dude.

its just that, i suppose we've been brought up to think that the very idea of love is something that we can dictate and have control over. perhaps there are some types of people we are prone to not fall in love with, others that we are, and then others that we never expect too.

the love checklist, however is blocked by the idea that it defines our "principles" and what we "should" look for in a guy. perhaps whats important to us and what should be important to him as well. if he fits just one or two criterias in the list, perhaps ill just force him to fit in the rest eventually.

we asians plan e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g. even who we should fall in love. good luck with that.

yours,
jess

wHat's SpeCiaL abOuT bEinG sPeciAL?

dear jess,

we all like to think that we are special. the believe that we are different and that we contribute something unique to the world in some ways gives us reasons to continue living. sometimes we are so blinded at being "special" that we never realise that the term has somehow evolved since.

i suppose you can tell what a person takes pride in, in what he shows off, or if you like, in what he prizes. and some people prize in the strangest things. some people prize in being able to eat like a pig and not gain weight, or lose the weight in a week. others prize in the achievements of finishing their studies quickly, and still others because they managed to get hitched.

the modern day "special" isnt always nice and we sometimes use it on people who are deemed to be slower than us, or people way faster than us. someone once said that talent is a burden, its "a curse, a blessing"

does being special mean that you are the last three siblings of a generation only with your surname? you're probably just one of a hundred, if not thousands of rodrigues's, lim's or wong's. but then what happens when you are really special and you by some freak of nature end up being the only male left with your surname to populate the next generation?

being special isnt what its made out to be. But then again nothing ever really is. sometimes we just need to tell our children, that being normal is good; well that is unless of course you're that last remaining male of your ancestry.

yours,

jess

stUff iT

dear jess,

there is no apparent reason to write, no "agendas," no mindless philosophical debates, nothing, yet. i hate surprises, unless it was from someone im dating, my family or someone really close to me. otherwise i wouldnt consider a bunch of frens turning up at my house to give me cake a surprise, especially if i hadnt talked to them in the last few months or so.

i use to be the most unsurpriseable person in the world and id guess whatever surprise it was headed my way. so i guess when someone offers to take you out for dinner but instead decides to make the arrangemenst with my mother, i find that more than a tad irritating. however, in the spirit of trying to be nice, ive decided that maybe the intention outweighs the strangeness of going about such things.

the worse part about "surprises" is that it often ends up to be about the person surprising you, because you draw on your rusty melodramatic skills and feel oblige to go "oh thats soo awesome! i didnt expect that!"

all i have to say is. im gonna go fishing next week. :) salt water fishing, the kind where you wait for two hours before your first bite, and then reel in in anticipation as your fish fights the hell out of you to stay in the water, and you go "ohh thats awesome, i didnt expect that." and my fish wil just jump up and go "surprise"

yours,
jess

aRe yOu thE onE thEy cALL a hERo?

dear jess,

you know the feeling? the one where you thought, as a youth, you were going to make a difference? and then, money came along, and you thought i'll do it when i have bought my first PDA, my first laptop, my first house...

and then instead you thought, that what you really want, is the best for yourself. so you decide to leave, because someone once said, its better to be a third class citizen in another country than a second class in yours.

and then you decide, you're not happy, so you travel, because you can now afford to. first class seats, five star hotel and a tour guide to tell you whats nice.

then when you have children, you finally tell your children to make a difference in the world, or most of the time you just tell them to make as much money as they can and make a difference in your life.

someone once told me that when he came back from being overseas, all his friends could talk about was what new gadget they now own. pause and think what are we if all we have to our worth is a technology put together by somebody else.

hush now, we weren't meant to rock this boat. the country is too many men complaining about the few men conspiring against whats best for us. what difference would we be if we didnt do our best to seek out those who needs us the most?

yours, but are you mine?
jess

this is how i look like after only an hour and a half worth of sleep in twenty four hours..

We ArE wHat oUr faThErs WeRe yEsTeRdaY..

dear jess,

on days when i dont have the one i love or an obligation to work or studies that help distract me from life, i am but to be left with thoughts, a cup of coffee and people to irritate me. well, i did pick up a new hobby. skectching.

the thing is i use to hate drawing. i couldnt draw, and probably still cant. i cant even draw a straight line with a ruler, but my claim will be that if u have legs, u can dance, and i suppose if u have hands, patience, a sketch book. a 7b pencil, who knows. after all they think picasso is a genius.

do u know how they say that those who cant do, teach? this may be true. but i think perhaps it would be better phrased this way. those who cant teach, do. you see, teaching, is probably the most horrifying job in the world. and im starting to despise the modern young know-it-all generation. everyone says that children these days are smarter. i say, they are a bunch of smart arses.

so, when i do my best to teach people a simple thing like making their faces up, so that some day when im gone, at this rate im hoping sooner than later, they shouldnt question with their shrill, annoying voice, WHY? why should i put my own make up when someone else can do it for me?

that creates me to ask me why? why am i doing this? and to be honest, i dont think i know anymore. i've felt that way today, last week, maybe even last year. the truth is, im tired. tired of doing what i thought i love doing to people who dont.

i dont know how to draw. i have to be honest. i have no idea what rule number one is. and you know, my mum is a great visual artist, and im not saying that because she's my mum. perhaps, when i ask her some tips tomorrow, ill just leave her the sketch book, 7b pencil and eraser; after all she might make a mistake.

lets toast to the modernism we're so proud of; a land of immense knowledge and instantly thingratified ever-y-thing.

typing on behalf of her,

jess