1-10 : gEt dReSsEd iN yOur dRamA cLassEs ChiEf fiRemEn's HaT & aXE. OfF tO fIGhT fIrE! TA!
Thursday, May 05, 2005
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!
Wednesday, May 04, 2005
Tuesday, May 03, 2005
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
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
Monday, May 02, 2005
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!!
Saturday, April 30, 2005
kRiShEn JiT diEs..
dear jess,
in the surreality of things, even great men die. Its odd really, as i was talking about the purpose and legacy of lives. i read the news minutes ago, and i felt i could hardly breath. This just from finding out about a man i dont even know.
i "met" krishen last year. Actually i had to act in front of him. It was the most horrifying experience ever, i had to strut out in front of krishen, marion and jit murad and do my stuff! The wobbly knees and full bladder screaming, i had to act in front of pioneers of theatre, and the very place where my feet were, was owned by him. I was in front of a living legacy who has been practising theatre even before i could walk, and practically created the arts world to where it is today! He's written books, lectured, directed, and is perfectly synonym to the word theatre. And there he was sitting down to watch me act! In retrospect now, it brings sweat to my palms.
And what does one do in the presence of a legacy? Put your head down and shyly avoid eye contact. What can i say!
Im speechless, i would love to in all flair write about the arts, krishen, etc but i cant right now, im just lost for words. Ive never had to write a letter this way. I know for a fact that the arts community pauses in time as they reflect on the great loss. He was 65, and still actively directing and contributing to the arts. Perhaps what strikes me most of all about this man i knew not was that he made changes in what he was passionate about.
I guess some of us do make a mark in the world that leaves impressions for a long, long time. We've really lost a huge part of the arts, but his legend and contribution will live on. How many of us can say that about anything we do?
yours in memory of krishen,
jess
in the surreality of things, even great men die. Its odd really, as i was talking about the purpose and legacy of lives. i read the news minutes ago, and i felt i could hardly breath. This just from finding out about a man i dont even know.
i "met" krishen last year. Actually i had to act in front of him. It was the most horrifying experience ever, i had to strut out in front of krishen, marion and jit murad and do my stuff! The wobbly knees and full bladder screaming, i had to act in front of pioneers of theatre, and the very place where my feet were, was owned by him. I was in front of a living legacy who has been practising theatre even before i could walk, and practically created the arts world to where it is today! He's written books, lectured, directed, and is perfectly synonym to the word theatre. And there he was sitting down to watch me act! In retrospect now, it brings sweat to my palms.
And what does one do in the presence of a legacy? Put your head down and shyly avoid eye contact. What can i say!
Im speechless, i would love to in all flair write about the arts, krishen, etc but i cant right now, im just lost for words. Ive never had to write a letter this way. I know for a fact that the arts community pauses in time as they reflect on the great loss. He was 65, and still actively directing and contributing to the arts. Perhaps what strikes me most of all about this man i knew not was that he made changes in what he was passionate about.
I guess some of us do make a mark in the world that leaves impressions for a long, long time. We've really lost a huge part of the arts, but his legend and contribution will live on. How many of us can say that about anything we do?
yours in memory of krishen,
jess
Tuesday, April 26, 2005
wiNe, tHe cOLoUr oF yOuR hEaRt
dear jess,
You smile as you think about your fascination of drinking that shimmering glass of red wine, with harry connick jr. in the background, the rain tapping gently on the window, you just had a warm bath, not shower, a bath, one that was foamy and relaxing. You bring the glass closer to your lips, smell it, and give it a slight twist, letting the wine 'breath.' The first touch of red gold on your lips is satisfactory, not too bitter, and not too sweet. It slides down your throat, and the warmth tingles the throat and the soul. That was the last bit you had. The one you saved for a special occasion or simply just to be selfish. He told you it was a speacial blend, made from four different grapes, and can't be bought here. You curse a little, knowing that that was the last time you'd appreciate that refiness on your lips, from this specific brand.
Then in your old fashion manner of being melancholic you start to think about the process that took just to give you that small moment of pleasure. The four types of grapes, which only purpose in life was to give you that intoxicating satisfaction.
Then you think about yourself, sitting down all alone in the couch listening to the rain tap, and you can't help but to wonder the lifelong purpose of the pleasures you might remotely bring into other peoples lives.
Your work, was that your purpose in life? or just distraction? Your loves, your passions, your "unselfish" time investing into other people's lives, your studies, your strives, your good fights for what you believed in, your work outs at the gym, your habitual movie watching, your gleam at buying new jewellry, your fantastic race car driving habits, you trying to make others happy when you're aching inside, you making a mark in the world so it remembers you.. all distractions?
They're very good ones, if they are, because with all these distractions you tend to forget your purpose, but then again, you dont really know what your purpose is in this life do you? So in the meanwhile, you might as well pile up on distractions? Perhaps until the harvest comes, and the grapes are picked, and you're squeezed into wine, where somewhere, somebody will reflect on their own purposes in life.
You smile as you think about your fascination of drinking that shimmering glass of red wine, with harry connick jr. in the background, the rain tapping gently on the window, you just had a warm bath, not shower, a bath, one that was foamy and relaxing. You bring the glass closer to your lips, smell it, and give it a slight twist, letting the wine 'breath.' The first touch of red gold on your lips is satisfactory, not too bitter, and not too sweet. It slides down your throat, and the warmth tingles the throat and the soul. That was the last bit you had. The one you saved for a special occasion or simply just to be selfish. He told you it was a speacial blend, made from four different grapes, and can't be bought here. You curse a little, knowing that that was the last time you'd appreciate that refiness on your lips, from this specific brand.
Then in your old fashion manner of being melancholic you start to think about the process that took just to give you that small moment of pleasure. The four types of grapes, which only purpose in life was to give you that intoxicating satisfaction.
Then you think about yourself, sitting down all alone in the couch listening to the rain tap, and you can't help but to wonder the lifelong purpose of the pleasures you might remotely bring into other peoples lives.
Your work, was that your purpose in life? or just distraction? Your loves, your passions, your "unselfish" time investing into other people's lives, your studies, your strives, your good fights for what you believed in, your work outs at the gym, your habitual movie watching, your gleam at buying new jewellry, your fantastic race car driving habits, you trying to make others happy when you're aching inside, you making a mark in the world so it remembers you.. all distractions?
They're very good ones, if they are, because with all these distractions you tend to forget your purpose, but then again, you dont really know what your purpose is in this life do you? So in the meanwhile, you might as well pile up on distractions? Perhaps until the harvest comes, and the grapes are picked, and you're squeezed into wine, where somewhere, somebody will reflect on their own purposes in life.
Everyone seems to have a clear idea of how other people should lead their lives, but none about his or her own. (The Alchemist, Paulo Coehlo)
yours sippingly,
jess
Wednesday, April 20, 2005
wHeN sHoPPiN iS a CuLtUrAL vIsIt
the vibration on the handles makes the water.... BUBBLE,
i think its an ancient chinese thing or something...
sOmeThiNG oLd, sOmEtHinG nEw....
Things are cherished more when they are gone, therefore how does one cherish it when one has it?
dear jess,
in a land where the sun is always shining seemingly hotter than back home, and your now-under-your care nephew is in desperate need to use the loo, surprisingly, you can become a tourist in your own home.
Back in my native roots of malacca, where the only few portuegese words i speak from bong natal to well kumi arus, the others being to vulgar, i find interesting revelations. Do you realise, that you can be a tourist in your own home? On my first monorail trip to kl today, the dirty streets of kuala lumpur suddenly had an appealing sense of beauty and strangness to it. I noticed the artistic beauty of the temple, the church and the messyness of the melting pot heritage.
In malacca, i longed to go back to "my" A famosa or the bits that was left of it, and just bask in the glory it once was, of course i didnt get to, cos that would be quite an oddity to say i wanted to visit those places wouldnt it? after all, ive been there a million. Instead, i found myself appreciating a many other things, i guess due to my thirst for local culture. Shops that sold bargain goods at RM1 had really expensive looking sculptures that spit water.
So here i was in awe of things that weren't totally strange to me, in fact we've all seen it a thousand before. It felt somewhat like an out of body experience permitting me to see things for the first time again. Maybe that's how it should be isn't it? When you pause and appreciate something like you were doing it the first, and never before. Well, yeah perhaps that too, and of course the wonderful, wonderful taste of durian cendol and satay celop.. sighhh i can feel myself sinking in the chair right now.
yours in need to burn some off,
jess
dear jess,
in a land where the sun is always shining seemingly hotter than back home, and your now-under-your care nephew is in desperate need to use the loo, surprisingly, you can become a tourist in your own home.
Back in my native roots of malacca, where the only few portuegese words i speak from bong natal to well kumi arus, the others being to vulgar, i find interesting revelations. Do you realise, that you can be a tourist in your own home? On my first monorail trip to kl today, the dirty streets of kuala lumpur suddenly had an appealing sense of beauty and strangness to it. I noticed the artistic beauty of the temple, the church and the messyness of the melting pot heritage.
In malacca, i longed to go back to "my" A famosa or the bits that was left of it, and just bask in the glory it once was, of course i didnt get to, cos that would be quite an oddity to say i wanted to visit those places wouldnt it? after all, ive been there a million. Instead, i found myself appreciating a many other things, i guess due to my thirst for local culture. Shops that sold bargain goods at RM1 had really expensive looking sculptures that spit water.
So here i was in awe of things that weren't totally strange to me, in fact we've all seen it a thousand before. It felt somewhat like an out of body experience permitting me to see things for the first time again. Maybe that's how it should be isn't it? When you pause and appreciate something like you were doing it the first, and never before. Well, yeah perhaps that too, and of course the wonderful, wonderful taste of durian cendol and satay celop.. sighhh i can feel myself sinking in the chair right now.
yours in need to burn some off,
jess
Sunday, April 10, 2005
aLwaYs iN tHe "LaIn- LaiN" cAtEgOry?
I told him that i had been in love many times but had been worried about whether I could ever become serious with anyone. If I had continued that way, it would have led to a solitary old age, and I had been very fearful of this.
I dont't think you look to love as a means to a comfortable retirement.
Coelho, The Pilgirmage
Dear jess,
If you can take a snapshot of your life, what would it be? The day you were born? the day you graduate? Close your eyes and imagine with me for a moment a photographic collection of your black and white pictures, almost faded, the one with your mum carrying you as a child, and the one with your first birthday, the one with the wild 21st party or the one with the whole family at Christmas.
The snapshots of our lives that contain people we love, the ones that contain people who've died and left, but forever looking so happy in those pictures, and in every picture, people are always smiling. Rarely if ever at all, do we catch snapshots of tears. I remember when mama passed on, i took pictures of the coffin, i know its madness, but something voyeuristic, if i may use that word, made me do it.,
Whats my point really? No man is an island they say, but even more so for people who are extreme extroverts. For them, us, and me, a short walk to the shops nearby can seem like hours without anyone next to you to express how stupid that guy looks dressed in those shorts, or how beautiful those plants are.. They have a constant need for companionship. Some people are created with the amazing ability to be single all their lives and some people just have the ultimate aim of wanting to get married. But perhaps the worse, or the best, depending on which you are, are the people who have the constant need for companionship (not necesarily romantic) and the high explosive need to be independant- even of the companion, adventorous and just plain mad.
Watching a movie, shopping alone, and even havin lunch on your own feels like a liffetime of torture, and yet the idea of living with one person for the rest of your life is just too much to take. These 'free-spirited' folks confuse people who dont understand their diversed need for companionship and yet independance.
What scares me the most is that the jess i once knew who had so confidently said that she can live without marriage and have a ball might one day become the jess who looks to love as a comfortable retirement. Perhaps if my girl bestfriends who are all in this limbo category never get married, we would start a womans fraternity and live the rest of our old age having loads of fun, drinking champagne's nightly, and traveling the world and when we need a man to come change the lightbulb, well we'll look for one then.
your companion,
jess
Saturday, April 02, 2005
eL cAmiNo dE sAntiAgO
"the ship is safest when it's in port, but that's not what ships were built for"
"we must never stop dreaming. Dreams provide nourishment for the soul, just as a meal does for the body"
Dear jess,
im writting to tell you exciting news about a new man in my life. Now, before you draw any brash conclusions, let me tell you that the man i speak of is none other than the great Coelho, Paulo Coelho. Yes, the famous author and inspirer, if there be such a word. Okay, fine, i havent had the privillage of meeting my portugese counterpart, but i did meet him on the road to Santiago.
As you, can see my great love affair with the little i know about Spain is far from over. And my limited knowledge is contented with wanting to eat tapas and paella, whilst drinking Sangrias in Andalucia, the place that invented the guitar, but where i really want to be is on that Camino that extends for miles and miles on a pilgrimage that would teach one so much more than just reaching an end.
The famous road to Santiago is one of the three pilgrimages that Christians take ending in the place where the apostle James is believed to be buried. Regardless, it has brought upon me the thoughts of these wonderful dreams. Sometimes when i sit back and wallow in thought, iam brought back to the time when i sat under the moon with a best friend, and i swore never to be contented with a 9-5 job, a stable income, and a 'wonderful' life that promises security, a high rise apartment, a dog and a husband that comes along with the package. Ironically, today he has a stable income.
As i was saying, when i met Coehlo on that Camino, his friend Petrus was saying this, maybe ill just let him tell you himself...
The first symptom of the process of our killing our dreams is the lack of time, the busiest people I have known in my life always have time enough to do everything. Those who do nothing are always tired and pay no attention to the little amount of work they are required to do. They complain constantly that the day is too short. The truth is, they are afraid to fight the good fight.
The second symptom of the death of our dreams lies in our certainties. Because we dont want to see life as a grand adventure, we begin to think of ourselves as wise and fair and correct in asking so little of life. We look beyond the walls of our day-to-day existence, and we hear the sound of lances breaking, we smell the dust and the sweat, and we see the great defeats and the fire in the eyes of the warriors. But we never see the delight, the immense delight in the hearts of those who are engaged in the battle. For them, neither victory nor defeat is important; what's importnat is only that they are fighting the good fight.
And, finally, the third symptom of the passing of our dreams is peace. Life beccomes a Sunday afternoon; we ask for nothing grand, and we cease to demand anything more than we are willing to give. In that state, we think of ourselves as being mature; we put aside the fantasies of our youth, and we seek personal and professional achievement. We are surprised when people our age say that they still want this or that out of life. But really, deep in our hearts, we know that what has happened is that we have renounced the battle for our dreams-we have refused to fight the good fight.
I believe that when one has quoted Coelho, one need not say more. I hope to someday see you, and myself on that Camino de Santiago. For now, adiós..
yours still dreamin,
jess
all quotations are taken from "The Pilgrimage" by Paulo Coelho
Wednesday, March 30, 2005
mY bLeSsiNg, My cUrSe.
Dear jess, I knew one day, one of these two would get me into trouble of some kind. Number one, being an "artist" number two, being a girl who has male best friends. Little of course did i realise, that the combination of these two was fatal, in some psychological way. Sadly, due to the number two, my personal life has lately become a public life, and if you knew me as well as karine knows, you'd know thats the one thing i hate more than anything else in the world. Even more so i had to sit in what i would describe as being in the scrutiny of incriminiting question not just on my personal life but my personal most intimate feelings! Just so as to satisfy my accusers, i cringed answering, waiting for the ground to eat me or up or tears to well up, but nothing of that sort happened, just my luck, i wasnt dreaming. Hence, the saga of my life continues. A director once said, to be an artists- it is our blessing, it is our curse. It is our blessing because believe it or not not everyone has a passion for it (thank your lucky stars!) and it is our curse because we need to do it, love it, practice it in an insecure cycle of perhaps not getting a stable job - as that is the typical perception. It is the drug we need. Perhaps thats why most artists are always depressed and in their odd personality types they are strong against all odds of what society thinks of them. Then enters my story. So once again what does the equation of being an "artist" and the number two get you into? Trouble. Having been accused of several things that i cant wait to be proven innocent, amongst them is making other people love the arts and consider it as a future career, i sit here and for once, unlike all artist i wont mellow in depression. If it is true that i discovered and gave breath to just one other person who's passion and soul thrives on not just the arts, but using this gift for God, then i shall smile. I shall smile knowing that if ever you were privillaged to be an artist and have an "insecure" job, and that you have to rely on God for jobs, and for God to provide an income, whilst you so faithfully practice your gift, then so be it, blame me for all i care. After all, arent most artists misunderstood? yours the starving artist, jess |
Monday, March 28, 2005
iF itS sO fUnNy hOw cOme iM nOt LauGhInG?
dear jess,
Isaiah said My mind reels; my heart races; I am gripped by awful fear. all rest at night - so pleasant once - is gone; I lie awake, trembling.
its funny how human beings are.
ive been up to mt kinabalu and back, in the rain, the last one to reach, having an injured walking partner to support, leaving the jungle after 10 and yet human beings are the hardest feat.
Its funny how people can be.
my grandmother passes away and in less than 3 weeks my closes cousin's mum passes away. Today we have an extended adopted family who has lost a wonderful mum and my mum's closest sister in law. And yet the grief of another human beings words hurt longer and is remembered further.
Its childish how earthlings are.
The same day my grandmother passed- which was officially the worse so far because i had pre-anticipated a huge VIVA in front of lecturers and friends, defending not only my theses that gave me sleepless nights but my ego, which came out crumbling, fades in comparison to the fact that i remain baffled that people twice my age who have misjudge me, not only fail to confront me but sees it fit to bring it up to someone else of "higher authority" instead.
Its stupid how human beings can be.
need i even explain this one?
jess, ive always been nothing less than honest to you. In the depths of my heart i wish that i dont have to write such painful letters. But they are the truth. I can't tell you although you probably already know, despite being Easter, this Sunday was one of the worse days of my life. Ive never had an issue escalate so quickly and so out of hand that i dont know what to do. And so i sit here awaiting my fate, hoping that there is still some justice left on this earth.
Its scary what humans what humans are capable of.
I did a self mutilation 'cruelty exercise' recommended by Coehlo (maybe ill tell you about it one day) that left the skin in between my thumb raw for days and yet, the rawness of people thinking that they are right, and going all out to make my life miserable fades in comparison.
The consequences? I have to sacrifice a friendship. So please if i write more depressing letters dont hate me. Deep in my heart, i want them to stop too.
yours looking to the God of justice and hope,
jess
Isaiah said My mind reels; my heart races; I am gripped by awful fear. all rest at night - so pleasant once - is gone; I lie awake, trembling.
its funny how human beings are.
ive been up to mt kinabalu and back, in the rain, the last one to reach, having an injured walking partner to support, leaving the jungle after 10 and yet human beings are the hardest feat.
Its funny how people can be.
my grandmother passes away and in less than 3 weeks my closes cousin's mum passes away. Today we have an extended adopted family who has lost a wonderful mum and my mum's closest sister in law. And yet the grief of another human beings words hurt longer and is remembered further.
Its childish how earthlings are.
The same day my grandmother passed- which was officially the worse so far because i had pre-anticipated a huge VIVA in front of lecturers and friends, defending not only my theses that gave me sleepless nights but my ego, which came out crumbling, fades in comparison to the fact that i remain baffled that people twice my age who have misjudge me, not only fail to confront me but sees it fit to bring it up to someone else of "higher authority" instead.
Its stupid how human beings can be.
need i even explain this one?
jess, ive always been nothing less than honest to you. In the depths of my heart i wish that i dont have to write such painful letters. But they are the truth. I can't tell you although you probably already know, despite being Easter, this Sunday was one of the worse days of my life. Ive never had an issue escalate so quickly and so out of hand that i dont know what to do. And so i sit here awaiting my fate, hoping that there is still some justice left on this earth.
Its scary what humans what humans are capable of.
I did a self mutilation 'cruelty exercise' recommended by Coehlo (maybe ill tell you about it one day) that left the skin in between my thumb raw for days and yet, the rawness of people thinking that they are right, and going all out to make my life miserable fades in comparison.
The consequences? I have to sacrifice a friendship. So please if i write more depressing letters dont hate me. Deep in my heart, i want them to stop too.
yours looking to the God of justice and hope,
jess
Thursday, March 24, 2005
tHe ePiToMe oF pAiN
dear pain,
when will you leave me? when will you go and let me be alone? You seem to be there at every crevice and crack i hide from you. Leave me and let me be. I look to things and friends to help me, but it only eases you for a while, for you always return to me, swearing your vengence.
You reside in the depths of my soul and heart, and make my heart melt within me. My nights and days become dreary and hands shiver from fear. Leave me and let me be, can't you see im already wretched.
I can name the people who brought you to me, but whats the point? You wont leave. The pain you bring with these people who have come to claim me guilty, judge me, and what's more, now they want to confront me with this lies they so persistantly believe.
I long for you to leave, and give me back my peace. I long to taste the joys of existing without fear. The strength of confidence that i am innocent. My bed gives me no rest, my eyes wont let me stop tearing, my heart wont stop sinking.
I long to write letters with more dreams of joy and less pain, but alas that is not to come. I long back for the days when people loved without judging, when he understood, and when she let me stay in her home despite not knowing me well, when they showed me that being Christians were opening their lives to me, when he made me believe in myself. Those sweet days are strangers now.
Dont be alarmed, and dont think that you have to comfort me. I hope it passes, and when i come out of it, be it in failure or victory, i hope to write you letters of joy and dreams once again.
yours,
jess
when will you leave me? when will you go and let me be alone? You seem to be there at every crevice and crack i hide from you. Leave me and let me be. I look to things and friends to help me, but it only eases you for a while, for you always return to me, swearing your vengence.
You reside in the depths of my soul and heart, and make my heart melt within me. My nights and days become dreary and hands shiver from fear. Leave me and let me be, can't you see im already wretched.
I can name the people who brought you to me, but whats the point? You wont leave. The pain you bring with these people who have come to claim me guilty, judge me, and what's more, now they want to confront me with this lies they so persistantly believe.
I long for you to leave, and give me back my peace. I long to taste the joys of existing without fear. The strength of confidence that i am innocent. My bed gives me no rest, my eyes wont let me stop tearing, my heart wont stop sinking.
I long to write letters with more dreams of joy and less pain, but alas that is not to come. I long back for the days when people loved without judging, when he understood, and when she let me stay in her home despite not knowing me well, when they showed me that being Christians were opening their lives to me, when he made me believe in myself. Those sweet days are strangers now.
Dont be alarmed, and dont think that you have to comfort me. I hope it passes, and when i come out of it, be it in failure or victory, i hope to write you letters of joy and dreams once again.
yours,
jess
Monday, March 21, 2005
rEaLitY hAs a KnAcK fOr hItTiNG hArD - ALL tHe tImE
dear jess,
what is it with this man called Reality? i keep bumping into him every now and then. A colourful odd ball that one, carmouflages with just about everything. Just yesterday Reality disguised himself as a she, called me up. She claimed to be the mother of my best friend and said something terribly nasty. I listened carefully and thought, ah ive heard this voice before! The last time i heard it, she was making fictitious claims, that i must say terribly upset me. This time, i was surprisingly calm. So as i was saying, she claimed alot of anger in her words, and she even called me a ***** twice. Lets just say no one has, and this coming from a 40 plus mother was amusing to say the least. So wat do you do when Reality calls you and doesnt let you justify yourself, because Reality has already decided who and what you are? what do you do?? why, you hang up on him of course!
But, as some of us are already aware, Reality is a stubborn one too. Following that, Reality insisted on coming over for tea today and he got me thinking. He told me about this woman he met- Ms Dysfunctional. She is a pain in the neck. They use to date i think. anyways, what she does is pry into families when they werent watching. In my best friend's case, she was a long term house guest. The mother would pry into the private lives of her son or daugther and would then think that her adult son shouldn't be friends with this girl or guy base on external factors, youve heard them before, stuff like racism? Amazing, because Ms Dysfunctional has the amazing knack of making people think their views of the world and other people are all wrong, except theirs! so what do these mothers do? They actually call up their children's friends so that they can scream the very bad words to them that they've taught their own kids not to use.
Reality explained that people are far and beyond what we imagine them to be, that Ms Dysfunctional was the key to todays's society, that many children suffer under their parent's 'rule' and all this at the same time appearing 'godly' and pure to its finest degree, they are the same ones who emotionally torment their children, and anyone who dares to be close to their kids suffer the same wrath.
And while Reality was talking, baby Thanksgiving whispered to me, and looking back at my own family i rejoiced that my parents were gold in comparison to what Reality explained.
A little while over tea, baby Confusion crawled in. Confusion got me thinking about how could families like these exist not only in our society but in our churches? Confusion kept repeating to me past thoughts about names and gossips that have hurt me before. Confusion for a second even led me to think that it was my fault that cause all these dsyfunctionality.
Just as i was about to hit bulk of depressions, Reality put his heavy hand on Confusion, told him to hit the road, and reminded me of but another friend who had Dsyfunctional in her home for the last 20 years or so. In her home, Dysfunctional made her father hit her mother. Once again, this happens right under our noses! Is Dysfunctional still living there? will she continue to live on?
Reality then did something weird, he looked me into my eyes and he cried. He said jess, i hate to tell you this, but im gonna have to live with you for a long time. as long as you have best friends with Ms. Dysfunctional living in their homes, and as long as you have girlfriends who needs you when Dysfunctional makes her dad hit her mum, im gonna be living with you. So get use to the fact that i sleep anywhere i like, eat anytime i like, i dont flush after peeing and everything about me spells uncomfortable to you.
Well, i was about to tell Reality that no one tells me how my life is going to be and all the other nonsense i abide my life with when another voice hit me. Softer and yet louder that Reality's. Was it the voice of reason? Or was it the voice of Hilarious because i could still laugh? Was it the voice of Pain because it felt like my heart was taken out and chewed on, and then placed right back in? Was it the voice of anger that Carmouflaged itself?
I think it was a combination of voices. First came the voice of helplesness that just told me to lie back and let it go, because there is nothing i could do. Then came the voice of Hilarious that made me laugh because people like these were blinded by their own fault, and yet had the amazing capability of picking out somebody elses. Then came confusion and just about everyone decided to take the day of to visit me.
finally, came the voice of God. Yes, i've rarely spoken of Him in my letters to you, but dont be mistaken jess, He has been the very voice of Grace. I couldnt explain it but along with his voice came a sense of calmness and joy. Sure i was angry that Reality was going to be my permanent roomate and with that came a flood of other horrific emotions.
its difficult to explain. The pain and the longing to change things remain but as long as Reality is still walking aoround my room STARK naked i sit back realising that there is little i can do- for now.
yours schizophrenicly,
jess
what is it with this man called Reality? i keep bumping into him every now and then. A colourful odd ball that one, carmouflages with just about everything. Just yesterday Reality disguised himself as a she, called me up. She claimed to be the mother of my best friend and said something terribly nasty. I listened carefully and thought, ah ive heard this voice before! The last time i heard it, she was making fictitious claims, that i must say terribly upset me. This time, i was surprisingly calm. So as i was saying, she claimed alot of anger in her words, and she even called me a ***** twice. Lets just say no one has, and this coming from a 40 plus mother was amusing to say the least. So wat do you do when Reality calls you and doesnt let you justify yourself, because Reality has already decided who and what you are? what do you do?? why, you hang up on him of course!
But, as some of us are already aware, Reality is a stubborn one too. Following that, Reality insisted on coming over for tea today and he got me thinking. He told me about this woman he met- Ms Dysfunctional. She is a pain in the neck. They use to date i think. anyways, what she does is pry into families when they werent watching. In my best friend's case, she was a long term house guest. The mother would pry into the private lives of her son or daugther and would then think that her adult son shouldn't be friends with this girl or guy base on external factors, youve heard them before, stuff like racism? Amazing, because Ms Dysfunctional has the amazing knack of making people think their views of the world and other people are all wrong, except theirs! so what do these mothers do? They actually call up their children's friends so that they can scream the very bad words to them that they've taught their own kids not to use.
Reality explained that people are far and beyond what we imagine them to be, that Ms Dysfunctional was the key to todays's society, that many children suffer under their parent's 'rule' and all this at the same time appearing 'godly' and pure to its finest degree, they are the same ones who emotionally torment their children, and anyone who dares to be close to their kids suffer the same wrath.
And while Reality was talking, baby Thanksgiving whispered to me, and looking back at my own family i rejoiced that my parents were gold in comparison to what Reality explained.
A little while over tea, baby Confusion crawled in. Confusion got me thinking about how could families like these exist not only in our society but in our churches? Confusion kept repeating to me past thoughts about names and gossips that have hurt me before. Confusion for a second even led me to think that it was my fault that cause all these dsyfunctionality.
Just as i was about to hit bulk of depressions, Reality put his heavy hand on Confusion, told him to hit the road, and reminded me of but another friend who had Dsyfunctional in her home for the last 20 years or so. In her home, Dysfunctional made her father hit her mother. Once again, this happens right under our noses! Is Dysfunctional still living there? will she continue to live on?
Reality then did something weird, he looked me into my eyes and he cried. He said jess, i hate to tell you this, but im gonna have to live with you for a long time. as long as you have best friends with Ms. Dysfunctional living in their homes, and as long as you have girlfriends who needs you when Dysfunctional makes her dad hit her mum, im gonna be living with you. So get use to the fact that i sleep anywhere i like, eat anytime i like, i dont flush after peeing and everything about me spells uncomfortable to you.
Well, i was about to tell Reality that no one tells me how my life is going to be and all the other nonsense i abide my life with when another voice hit me. Softer and yet louder that Reality's. Was it the voice of reason? Or was it the voice of Hilarious because i could still laugh? Was it the voice of Pain because it felt like my heart was taken out and chewed on, and then placed right back in? Was it the voice of anger that Carmouflaged itself?
I think it was a combination of voices. First came the voice of helplesness that just told me to lie back and let it go, because there is nothing i could do. Then came the voice of Hilarious that made me laugh because people like these were blinded by their own fault, and yet had the amazing capability of picking out somebody elses. Then came confusion and just about everyone decided to take the day of to visit me.
finally, came the voice of God. Yes, i've rarely spoken of Him in my letters to you, but dont be mistaken jess, He has been the very voice of Grace. I couldnt explain it but along with his voice came a sense of calmness and joy. Sure i was angry that Reality was going to be my permanent roomate and with that came a flood of other horrific emotions.
its difficult to explain. The pain and the longing to change things remain but as long as Reality is still walking aoround my room STARK naked i sit back realising that there is little i can do- for now.
yours schizophrenicly,
jess
Tuesday, March 15, 2005
wHeN iCe mELts..
Dear jess,
Although i have never been a fan of Sigmund Freud, I am reminded now, the 5 cycles of grief, or emotions similar. The first one? Denial.
If you havent met Cold hearted people yet, please, at all cost, avoid them. Although i too am not a believer of the study of astrology, some of it oddly seems to talk about me. An aries, people born in the fires signs as well, somehow encompass these Cold hearted people that i speak of.
Cold hearted people can make decisions in a split second, grieve or feel sad about it in a week, then move on. Even those that effect friendship and relationship. This bunch of oddities have a high ability of moving on in life, not looking back, starting anew and being competitive. Or do they?
As bad as i make us out to be, we really do feel alot. Perhaps it is denial to a certain extend that awaits a fresh encounter, or something that sparks the thought. Perhaps it is when someone you hurt mentions somethin, or a picture, or a thought that brings back flood of memories and emotions.
Perhaps it is the inability to change situations and the stark reality that makes us the cold hearted ones a misunderstood bunch. But nevermind that, whilst we are the last ones who would be seen as romantics and the first ones to be seen as ice queens, we do hurt for you.
Perhaps it is pride and denial that brings together for a nasty combination that will not admit how we feel. Perhaps it is the will power and strength of being rational that overrides our emotion.
Our gift, and our curse is the ability to separate our emotions, that really one day does come back to haunt us. And when it does, we too like you cry, regret and hurt for the fact that there are forces bigger than us and our emotions. Maybe we only feel that way for a short while, but in its intensity, we still hurt.
unfortunately yours ,
jess
Although i have never been a fan of Sigmund Freud, I am reminded now, the 5 cycles of grief, or emotions similar. The first one? Denial.
If you havent met Cold hearted people yet, please, at all cost, avoid them. Although i too am not a believer of the study of astrology, some of it oddly seems to talk about me. An aries, people born in the fires signs as well, somehow encompass these Cold hearted people that i speak of.
Cold hearted people can make decisions in a split second, grieve or feel sad about it in a week, then move on. Even those that effect friendship and relationship. This bunch of oddities have a high ability of moving on in life, not looking back, starting anew and being competitive. Or do they?
As bad as i make us out to be, we really do feel alot. Perhaps it is denial to a certain extend that awaits a fresh encounter, or something that sparks the thought. Perhaps it is when someone you hurt mentions somethin, or a picture, or a thought that brings back flood of memories and emotions.
Perhaps it is the inability to change situations and the stark reality that makes us the cold hearted ones a misunderstood bunch. But nevermind that, whilst we are the last ones who would be seen as romantics and the first ones to be seen as ice queens, we do hurt for you.
Perhaps it is pride and denial that brings together for a nasty combination that will not admit how we feel. Perhaps it is the will power and strength of being rational that overrides our emotion.
Our gift, and our curse is the ability to separate our emotions, that really one day does come back to haunt us. And when it does, we too like you cry, regret and hurt for the fact that there are forces bigger than us and our emotions. Maybe we only feel that way for a short while, but in its intensity, we still hurt.
unfortunately yours ,
jess
Thursday, March 10, 2005
wHaTs wOrSe tHaN dYiNG?
dear jess,
living an unchallenged life.
Being a possibly manic deppresive person, life couldnt possibly be more colourful. when you are happy and high, it feels like you just sucked the life out of a world of adrenaline, your heart starts to pump, the smile on your face refuses to fade and your talk becomes not just faster, but louder, excitable. You feel that you have fallen in love with the world all over again, nothing can change that or challenge that, and anyone willing to even let their shadow fall on your path is defaced, eaten up alive.
Then as if to balance out the yin and yang, you have those dreary days, normal people like to think that its depression they face, but God forbid it that they ever do. Life becomes dreary and stark dry like the dessert of the sahara and normal chores become an impossibility.
But then there is possibly another side that psychologist have yet to discover. The one where life becomes normal. Everything starts to set itself in pace, its just normal. How can one live with that? Its not an up, its not a down.. its a flat. flat! what do you do when its flaT???!!!!
There are the normal shares of people annoying you and also the ones loving you but so what? There are the normal shares of jobs to be done, money to be made, but so what?
Scripts to be done, performances to watch, auditions to go to, so what?
Suppers to gorge at, lunches in the heat, errands to be done, people to be met.. but so what?
I need something, someone or to go someplace to be jolted into gear. There have only been two people in my life who has done that. People who challenge me, my mind. One of whom i admire is already halfway around the world living out his dream. And so im left here thinking about my own pilgrimage i hope to make someday.
I need to find that place and i need to go there soon before my soul runs dry and im doomed to be trapped in the forever land of my flat, unchallanged life.
i do not like to admit that i might fear leaving this flat land, where it holds people and memories of those i love, taking the risks of changing those relationships and heading towards the unknown where i will melt into the faces, having no history, no ties, no one to fallback on. Perhaps that is not what i fear, perhaps what i fear is that i may never want to come back.
yours in hope of a pilgrimage,
jess
living an unchallenged life.
Being a possibly manic deppresive person, life couldnt possibly be more colourful. when you are happy and high, it feels like you just sucked the life out of a world of adrenaline, your heart starts to pump, the smile on your face refuses to fade and your talk becomes not just faster, but louder, excitable. You feel that you have fallen in love with the world all over again, nothing can change that or challenge that, and anyone willing to even let their shadow fall on your path is defaced, eaten up alive.
Then as if to balance out the yin and yang, you have those dreary days, normal people like to think that its depression they face, but God forbid it that they ever do. Life becomes dreary and stark dry like the dessert of the sahara and normal chores become an impossibility.
But then there is possibly another side that psychologist have yet to discover. The one where life becomes normal. Everything starts to set itself in pace, its just normal. How can one live with that? Its not an up, its not a down.. its a flat. flat! what do you do when its flaT???!!!!
There are the normal shares of people annoying you and also the ones loving you but so what? There are the normal shares of jobs to be done, money to be made, but so what?
Scripts to be done, performances to watch, auditions to go to, so what?
Suppers to gorge at, lunches in the heat, errands to be done, people to be met.. but so what?
I need something, someone or to go someplace to be jolted into gear. There have only been two people in my life who has done that. People who challenge me, my mind. One of whom i admire is already halfway around the world living out his dream. And so im left here thinking about my own pilgrimage i hope to make someday.
I need to find that place and i need to go there soon before my soul runs dry and im doomed to be trapped in the forever land of my flat, unchallanged life.
i do not like to admit that i might fear leaving this flat land, where it holds people and memories of those i love, taking the risks of changing those relationships and heading towards the unknown where i will melt into the faces, having no history, no ties, no one to fallback on. Perhaps that is not what i fear, perhaps what i fear is that i may never want to come back.
yours in hope of a pilgrimage,
jess
Wednesday, March 09, 2005
Tuesday, March 08, 2005
wHaT bEtTeR wAy To sPeNd yOuR LaSt NiTe In MaLaySia ThaN bEiNg iN... SpaiN!
oNe of THe mAnY LoVeLy piCs On ThE wALLs Of LaBoDeGa
Monday, March 07, 2005
sEcOnd hOme.. LONG BLACK!!
mE & mY cYniCaL hALf (gosh i luv that nic girl haha) gAsP yOuR pIc oN tHe NeT fOr d wOrLd tO sEE!!!!
Thursday, March 03, 2005
aNd wE WoNdEr wHy peOpLe cOnsIdEr sUiciDE..
dear jess,
Have you ever wondered what a suicide note would sound like? mine at least? Oh dont worry, id just like to be melodramatic for a bit. I think it would go something like this..
To whoever who reads this first. By now, you would have found my body all sprawled no wait i decided to take some medication instead, i mean i surely didnt want an ugly body at my funeral. Yes, yes, it isnt funny right now considering the events that have taken place.
Let me move on, why yes, you all would be wondering why i committed suicide isnt it? tsk tsk, the ardous task of making you try to understand is just too much for me, but if it makes you happy, so be it.
I contemplated this decision so carefully in the last three months. Whilst doing so, I decided to put in a good work or two, so i could contribute to society. By doing so however, people misunderstood me, and thought i was doing it for my self glorification. Odd, considering i didnt think that my time at the old folks home cleaning up their poo was very glorifying at all. But nevermind, i put that behind me.
The next thing on my pre-suicide consideration was to spend as much time with my lovely friends as possible. lets see there was Ben and Ken, John and Lenny and of course Jamie. Yeah sure, i had more guy friends but that wasnt my fault that they made better friends than the girls (girls are too bitchy sometimes arent they..) So out i went with ben and ken, johnny and lenny, and you know what happen? Suddenly people thought it wasnt too nice to be seen hanging around with guys. Funny isnt it? our world sounds pretty much the same as when men carried clubs and women well who knew wat women did then.. And of course they all decided to judge me and suddenly i had a historical reputation that seemed like i had a huge 'A' in the front of my chest...
Well bother not these small minded people, i moved on to my pre-suicide considerations, and just did what i wanted and somehow as it turns out my friends were all younger than me too. Its probably not that funny since im such a big kid at heart. And of course by now 'the people' had something to say about that too, from the friends i had to the guys i dated. Wow. the people really dont have a life of their own do they? Im starting to feel like a celebrity on the front page of a gossip magazine with a sign that says 'Celebrity Star On the Edge Of Controversy Again...." with my face printed on in some 'scandalous" relationship apparently.
So it was the end of three months and i decided if i had my way i would be able to help society in a big way without commiting suicide- I would cut half of the populations tongue out- Its hilarious really, people can't handle a small little thing like that, its just too much responsibility, isnt it? But well since i thought about that i also realised i'd have to go open their mouths and fit my nice pretty hands into their big, Filthy, Stinking, mouths and i think weighing those possibilities, my own suicide sure sounded nicer than that.
Yes, perhaps its not worth my while to waste my life on a few tarts - or more than a few of them but i suppose a girl can only take so much. Funny isnt it how a little thing like that tongue of yours can make or break? You know whats even funnier?? The people who talk about me have this pretty, quite, good person image.. talk about irony??!!
I heard a quote once and ill try to recite it as the pills kick in..
Great People Talk about ideas,
Normal People Talk About Events,
Small People Talk About Other People..
To all the small people out there, goodbye forever, and oh if you wake up without your tongue tomorrow morning.. just remember me laughing in your face..
I havent thought about how people sign off suicide notes.. but yeah,
...........me...................
So wat do you think jess?
i wait upon you Lord, in tears i cry, please hear my cry, and seek judgement for me, Tired of being judged, and tired of being assumed.. Let your judgement come quick, and your comfort just as swift.....
Yours when it feels like im dying inside,
jess
Have you ever wondered what a suicide note would sound like? mine at least? Oh dont worry, id just like to be melodramatic for a bit. I think it would go something like this..
To whoever who reads this first. By now, you would have found my body all sprawled no wait i decided to take some medication instead, i mean i surely didnt want an ugly body at my funeral. Yes, yes, it isnt funny right now considering the events that have taken place.
Let me move on, why yes, you all would be wondering why i committed suicide isnt it? tsk tsk, the ardous task of making you try to understand is just too much for me, but if it makes you happy, so be it.
I contemplated this decision so carefully in the last three months. Whilst doing so, I decided to put in a good work or two, so i could contribute to society. By doing so however, people misunderstood me, and thought i was doing it for my self glorification. Odd, considering i didnt think that my time at the old folks home cleaning up their poo was very glorifying at all. But nevermind, i put that behind me.
The next thing on my pre-suicide consideration was to spend as much time with my lovely friends as possible. lets see there was Ben and Ken, John and Lenny and of course Jamie. Yeah sure, i had more guy friends but that wasnt my fault that they made better friends than the girls (girls are too bitchy sometimes arent they..) So out i went with ben and ken, johnny and lenny, and you know what happen? Suddenly people thought it wasnt too nice to be seen hanging around with guys. Funny isnt it? our world sounds pretty much the same as when men carried clubs and women well who knew wat women did then.. And of course they all decided to judge me and suddenly i had a historical reputation that seemed like i had a huge 'A' in the front of my chest...
Well bother not these small minded people, i moved on to my pre-suicide considerations, and just did what i wanted and somehow as it turns out my friends were all younger than me too. Its probably not that funny since im such a big kid at heart. And of course by now 'the people' had something to say about that too, from the friends i had to the guys i dated. Wow. the people really dont have a life of their own do they? Im starting to feel like a celebrity on the front page of a gossip magazine with a sign that says 'Celebrity Star On the Edge Of Controversy Again...." with my face printed on in some 'scandalous" relationship apparently.
So it was the end of three months and i decided if i had my way i would be able to help society in a big way without commiting suicide- I would cut half of the populations tongue out- Its hilarious really, people can't handle a small little thing like that, its just too much responsibility, isnt it? But well since i thought about that i also realised i'd have to go open their mouths and fit my nice pretty hands into their big, Filthy, Stinking, mouths and i think weighing those possibilities, my own suicide sure sounded nicer than that.
Yes, perhaps its not worth my while to waste my life on a few tarts - or more than a few of them but i suppose a girl can only take so much. Funny isnt it how a little thing like that tongue of yours can make or break? You know whats even funnier?? The people who talk about me have this pretty, quite, good person image.. talk about irony??!!
I heard a quote once and ill try to recite it as the pills kick in..
Great People Talk about ideas,
Normal People Talk About Events,
Small People Talk About Other People..
To all the small people out there, goodbye forever, and oh if you wake up without your tongue tomorrow morning.. just remember me laughing in your face..
I havent thought about how people sign off suicide notes.. but yeah,
...........me...................
So wat do you think jess?
i wait upon you Lord, in tears i cry, please hear my cry, and seek judgement for me, Tired of being judged, and tired of being assumed.. Let your judgement come quick, and your comfort just as swift.....
Yours when it feels like im dying inside,
jess
Monday, February 28, 2005
mAyBe tHe tImE hAs cOmE fOr mE tO LeAve
dear jess,
there are times when battle is tough and wounds even more painful. There are times when the enemy bites your nose off and you cant see it bleed, but you can feel the trinkle of warmth slowly streaming down your ugly face. The brutalities of war and the triumph of the stories later fades in comparison. You crawl on your belly, hands and half scrapped knees, and wished that you were out shopping or getting your nails painted. You turn to look at the back, whilst keeping your head down, you shout out to your comrades of the incoming bomb, only to see that they've all backed down, leaving you all by yourself. They probably left you about half a mile off ago, but you were too busy surviving you hadn't noticed.
You come back from battle, tired, angry, exhausted and the least you feel right now is victory, because the enemy is still there firing at you, and you've lost your nose and knees, not to mention pride.
Jess, i think its time to stop fighting. Its time to stop standing up for myself. its time to stop being different. Its time to.. give up.
The very one place i'd expect people to reflect God's love, has also been the very one place where i've bled over and over and over and over again. Ive looked back a million times to not only see my comrades leaving me behind but taking the gun and shooting at me. The very place i'd hope people accept me for who I am has become a battle ground.
Maybe just maybe its time to stop fighting. Its time to just put my gun down and leave. A part of me can't wait to leave and turn away from this muddy, messy battle ground and for once in my liffe, perhaps just once in my life i can stop fighting.
Im putting my gun down, turning and walking out that door. Perhaps its about time.
your's closing the door,
jess
there are times when battle is tough and wounds even more painful. There are times when the enemy bites your nose off and you cant see it bleed, but you can feel the trinkle of warmth slowly streaming down your ugly face. The brutalities of war and the triumph of the stories later fades in comparison. You crawl on your belly, hands and half scrapped knees, and wished that you were out shopping or getting your nails painted. You turn to look at the back, whilst keeping your head down, you shout out to your comrades of the incoming bomb, only to see that they've all backed down, leaving you all by yourself. They probably left you about half a mile off ago, but you were too busy surviving you hadn't noticed.
You come back from battle, tired, angry, exhausted and the least you feel right now is victory, because the enemy is still there firing at you, and you've lost your nose and knees, not to mention pride.
Jess, i think its time to stop fighting. Its time to stop standing up for myself. its time to stop being different. Its time to.. give up.
The very one place i'd expect people to reflect God's love, has also been the very one place where i've bled over and over and over and over again. Ive looked back a million times to not only see my comrades leaving me behind but taking the gun and shooting at me. The very place i'd hope people accept me for who I am has become a battle ground.
Maybe just maybe its time to stop fighting. Its time to just put my gun down and leave. A part of me can't wait to leave and turn away from this muddy, messy battle ground and for once in my liffe, perhaps just once in my life i can stop fighting.
Im putting my gun down, turning and walking out that door. Perhaps its about time.
your's closing the door,
jess
Friday, February 25, 2005
tHe wOrLd cAn bE DiViDeD iNtO BoHeMiAns, bUmS aNd BuSyBodiEs
dear jess,
i asked my drama team 'how do you feel?' a common need that artist need to be in touch with, as if it were their second nature to know how they feel and to express it despite the norm of social inhibition. well, i feel a whole mixture of feelings that i wouldnt dare to share with even you, jess. You see the world is made up of three people, bohemians, bums and busybodies.
Let me start with my favourite ones, the busybodies. Whilst they're the most annoying ones, they are (trust me on this) the most fun ones to toy with as well. They're the ones that who have no guts so they go around asking other people about your private life- including (or rather, especially) love life. Met them before? i sure have... LOADS too. I just LOVE them!! They wonder if you're still dating the same guy, and they wonder why you are always seen with a guy, who by golly God forbid that he is just your new best fren, they wonder why you are willing to send your bestest friend home miles away although once again, God forbid thats what the car is for, and they simply need to know what you're doing in your personal life under the pretext of well, being up to date. And you know why they're my favourite people in the whole wide world???? i just love it when they start drooling with curiosity and yet lack the guts to ask me personally. I get my kicks that way these days. I love creating a controversy, altough im pretty sure its them who creates the controversy in their beautiful own mind. There you have it, the busybodies that come in all shape and sizes and the funniest part? they think i dont know they've been asking about me, watching me with the intensity in their eyes and shock in their faces they try so hard to hide but fail miserably.
The next ones are the bums. Well, ill just call them the bums for now. Thats what most people think of them anyways. They're the ones that the world cant seem to be happy about. Theyre the ones who actually take time off to do their thing, not worry about the pace of the fast changing world. I have a friend who once told me "im going to be out of the rat race one day" guess what? he's still in it. its an Asian thing perhaps that being busy means being productive? i use to work in a company that frowns on you if you left at six, because you should sell your soul to the company you worked for, and leaving before the sun was down was a no -no. i work twice a week these days.. and i guess im a bum. i admit it i love my sleeps and im a procastinator for the life of me. Someone said to me 'you're not young anymore you know' i guess that means i have to be married, have a stable job and be like everyone else before thirty. Well, you know what? if i wanted a predictable life, i would have done it years ago.
Which of course brings me to the bohemians. When i was lucky enough to perform in theater, i heard this word alot. A Bohemian is defined as someone with artistic or literary interests who disregards conventional standards of behavior. These days anyone who chases his dreams, without taking into account the norms of society is a bohemian. Bohemians dont care about material wealth or social status's because they live for the dream. Im not a bohemian and perhaps i would love to claim it. The bohemian probably suffers the most and whilst 'going against the norm' sounds like a youthful, idealistic propaganda these days, it is tiring indeed. From a simple decision to abandoning the norms of who you should marry, which till these days can get you into a whirlpool of dirty stares to family abandonment, to what you will do with your life. So bohemians will be the last people on earth to own a nice apartment before they are 26, and the first to be bad mouthed (i can think of a lot worse words..) But they are the ones that stay true to themselves and challenge who they can become. The safe path was never an option and they wont regret wondering 'what if they didnt try.'
So lets see, if there are really just three types of people i reckon most people would be the busybodies? Oh right, of course there are the wonderful norm that have normal lifes and normal everything else.. right. But who on earth wants to hear about them?
Be neither a conformist or a rebel, for they are really the same thing. Find your own path, and stay on it.
-Paul Vixie
yours,
jess
i asked my drama team 'how do you feel?' a common need that artist need to be in touch with, as if it were their second nature to know how they feel and to express it despite the norm of social inhibition. well, i feel a whole mixture of feelings that i wouldnt dare to share with even you, jess. You see the world is made up of three people, bohemians, bums and busybodies.
Let me start with my favourite ones, the busybodies. Whilst they're the most annoying ones, they are (trust me on this) the most fun ones to toy with as well. They're the ones that who have no guts so they go around asking other people about your private life- including (or rather, especially) love life. Met them before? i sure have... LOADS too. I just LOVE them!! They wonder if you're still dating the same guy, and they wonder why you are always seen with a guy, who by golly God forbid that he is just your new best fren, they wonder why you are willing to send your bestest friend home miles away although once again, God forbid thats what the car is for, and they simply need to know what you're doing in your personal life under the pretext of well, being up to date. And you know why they're my favourite people in the whole wide world???? i just love it when they start drooling with curiosity and yet lack the guts to ask me personally. I get my kicks that way these days. I love creating a controversy, altough im pretty sure its them who creates the controversy in their beautiful own mind. There you have it, the busybodies that come in all shape and sizes and the funniest part? they think i dont know they've been asking about me, watching me with the intensity in their eyes and shock in their faces they try so hard to hide but fail miserably.
The next ones are the bums. Well, ill just call them the bums for now. Thats what most people think of them anyways. They're the ones that the world cant seem to be happy about. Theyre the ones who actually take time off to do their thing, not worry about the pace of the fast changing world. I have a friend who once told me "im going to be out of the rat race one day" guess what? he's still in it. its an Asian thing perhaps that being busy means being productive? i use to work in a company that frowns on you if you left at six, because you should sell your soul to the company you worked for, and leaving before the sun was down was a no -no. i work twice a week these days.. and i guess im a bum. i admit it i love my sleeps and im a procastinator for the life of me. Someone said to me 'you're not young anymore you know' i guess that means i have to be married, have a stable job and be like everyone else before thirty. Well, you know what? if i wanted a predictable life, i would have done it years ago.
Which of course brings me to the bohemians. When i was lucky enough to perform in theater, i heard this word alot. A Bohemian is defined as someone with artistic or literary interests who disregards conventional standards of behavior. These days anyone who chases his dreams, without taking into account the norms of society is a bohemian. Bohemians dont care about material wealth or social status's because they live for the dream. Im not a bohemian and perhaps i would love to claim it. The bohemian probably suffers the most and whilst 'going against the norm' sounds like a youthful, idealistic propaganda these days, it is tiring indeed. From a simple decision to abandoning the norms of who you should marry, which till these days can get you into a whirlpool of dirty stares to family abandonment, to what you will do with your life. So bohemians will be the last people on earth to own a nice apartment before they are 26, and the first to be bad mouthed (i can think of a lot worse words..) But they are the ones that stay true to themselves and challenge who they can become. The safe path was never an option and they wont regret wondering 'what if they didnt try.'
So lets see, if there are really just three types of people i reckon most people would be the busybodies? Oh right, of course there are the wonderful norm that have normal lifes and normal everything else.. right. But who on earth wants to hear about them?
Be neither a conformist or a rebel, for they are really the same thing. Find your own path, and stay on it.
-Paul Vixie
yours,
jess
Saturday, February 19, 2005
wHaT's HoTTeR tHan eAtInG cILi pAdi?? DrInKing ThEM!!!!
tHis iS aS bAd aS hOw aNyOne wOuLd LoOk iF tHey hAd CiLi pAdi vOdkA!!
wHat's yOuR FLaVouR???
sO cOoL tHeRe wAs bLaCkbErrY, rAmbUtAn, mANgo, LaIci, ChoCoLate!! yOu NamE iT mAn.. ALL eXcEpT DuRiAns.. hMMM... ohhh and thats karine's leg.. since she didnt allow me to post her pic :) hey girl!
ohhh and thats karine's leg.. since she didnt allow me to post her pic :) hey girl!
Sunday, February 13, 2005
ReLaTioNshiPs wOrK oNLY whEn iT goEs tHe wAy wE wAnT thEm tO..
dear jess
When your mum gave birth to you, it worked because she didn’t realize you’d become a starving musician,
When your dad paid for your pampers, it worked because he didn’t think you’d be single for so long
When your husband proposed, it worked because you thought he could give you security,
When you signed the divorce, it worked because it might keep him away
When you forgave him, it worked because you thought he wouldn’t do it again.
When you agreed to the friendship, it worked because you didnt know he was gay.
When you started sulking, it worked because you thought we cared
When you started to attend, it worked because you thought you’d fit in
When you started giving, it worked because you imagined a breakthrough.
When you started loving, it worked because you didn’t think it would hurt.
When your best friend told you who he liked, it worked because you didn’t know it would be her!
When you started trusting, it worked because you thought she wouldn’t tell.
When you started to be honest, it worked because you didn’t think she would lie.
When you decided to move away from them, it worked because you didn’t know that people are all the same.
love,
jess
When your mum gave birth to you, it worked because she didn’t realize you’d become a starving musician,
When your dad paid for your pampers, it worked because he didn’t think you’d be single for so long
When your husband proposed, it worked because you thought he could give you security,
When you signed the divorce, it worked because it might keep him away
When you forgave him, it worked because you thought he wouldn’t do it again.
When you agreed to the friendship, it worked because you didnt know he was gay.
When you started sulking, it worked because you thought we cared
When you started to attend, it worked because you thought you’d fit in
When you started giving, it worked because you imagined a breakthrough.
When you started loving, it worked because you didn’t think it would hurt.
When your best friend told you who he liked, it worked because you didn’t know it would be her!
When you started trusting, it worked because you thought she wouldn’t tell.
When you started to be honest, it worked because you didn’t think she would lie.
When you decided to move away from them, it worked because you didn’t know that people are all the same.
love,
jess
Monday, January 24, 2005
tHe LiFeLoNg qUesTiOn Of WhAt DO wOMen WaNt?
dear jess,
what do women want really? and why on earth dont men get us? its a question probably before the dawn of time considering that we are two totally different beings who despite the fact ive had had best friends who are guys, still manage to leave me in total puzzlement.
As a pro modern woman, why i mean seriously WHYY...
WHYYYYYYYY do women want to be competitive at work and YET would love it if you opened the door for them?
WHHHYYYYY would women want men to see them as equals and yet want to be coaxed when their crying?
and most of all, whilst playing futsal- which in case you guys dont know is probably the next feminist movement of today, WHY do you have to GIVE us the ball or on the other extreme IGNORE us totally? guess what guys? the girls can play! and if that hurts your egos to much, guess again cos some of them can play much better than you!
Okay, so ill stop the male bashing for one second and help you to try understand our difficult consequences. Girls havent been playing since they were young, unlike guys, hence the slight advantage that its second nature to guys. However girls can play and its just like if you added a new guy team member to your team, and guess what? even that guy doesnt get what i call the PITY PLAY that we girls do.
hang on guys, just a bit more.. Do you know that women have to work three times harder than guys on the "field" because they need to proove themselves twice as hard, and then at the back of their heads they are aware that the men feel uncomfortable with them on the "field", hence playing 'softer' or you know.. its not a real game.
So i know you tell me that in "REALITY" there are no mix leagues anyways, but really this is beyond the game? its an attitude of how guys treat us in reality as in, in the game!
Which brings us to the next problem of which the guys are probably frustrated by now? So what do girls want? Do they want to be treated extra special in work or in games? Would we like it if the guys were tooo rough? if we dont give them the ball, we're mean, if we give them the ball, we're mean too? i mean girls seriously how do we want to be treated?
So lets compromise to answer this one? Girls get off that pretty looks and long hair and go grab the ball, don't expect the guys to give it to you, if you want to be treated equally. AND guys whilst we dont want to be pitied, when we happen to be in your team? i think we should be treated just that way, we might, might just LIKE YOU GUYS miss one or two kicks, but we'll get there.
Whilst we let the men be men, dont forget that the women still want you to open their doors, and be a gentlemen, right after that grueling game!
Still confused? well its simple, women arent a bi-product of a singular answer, just like men.
yours kicking and fighting,
jess
what do women want really? and why on earth dont men get us? its a question probably before the dawn of time considering that we are two totally different beings who despite the fact ive had had best friends who are guys, still manage to leave me in total puzzlement.
As a pro modern woman, why i mean seriously WHYY...
WHYYYYYYYY do women want to be competitive at work and YET would love it if you opened the door for them?
WHHHYYYYY would women want men to see them as equals and yet want to be coaxed when their crying?
and most of all, whilst playing futsal- which in case you guys dont know is probably the next feminist movement of today, WHY do you have to GIVE us the ball or on the other extreme IGNORE us totally? guess what guys? the girls can play! and if that hurts your egos to much, guess again cos some of them can play much better than you!
Okay, so ill stop the male bashing for one second and help you to try understand our difficult consequences. Girls havent been playing since they were young, unlike guys, hence the slight advantage that its second nature to guys. However girls can play and its just like if you added a new guy team member to your team, and guess what? even that guy doesnt get what i call the PITY PLAY that we girls do.
hang on guys, just a bit more.. Do you know that women have to work three times harder than guys on the "field" because they need to proove themselves twice as hard, and then at the back of their heads they are aware that the men feel uncomfortable with them on the "field", hence playing 'softer' or you know.. its not a real game.
So i know you tell me that in "REALITY" there are no mix leagues anyways, but really this is beyond the game? its an attitude of how guys treat us in reality as in, in the game!
Which brings us to the next problem of which the guys are probably frustrated by now? So what do girls want? Do they want to be treated extra special in work or in games? Would we like it if the guys were tooo rough? if we dont give them the ball, we're mean, if we give them the ball, we're mean too? i mean girls seriously how do we want to be treated?
So lets compromise to answer this one? Girls get off that pretty looks and long hair and go grab the ball, don't expect the guys to give it to you, if you want to be treated equally. AND guys whilst we dont want to be pitied, when we happen to be in your team? i think we should be treated just that way, we might, might just LIKE YOU GUYS miss one or two kicks, but we'll get there.
Whilst we let the men be men, dont forget that the women still want you to open their doors, and be a gentlemen, right after that grueling game!
Still confused? well its simple, women arent a bi-product of a singular answer, just like men.
yours kicking and fighting,
jess
Thursday, January 20, 2005
WhEn yOu ASS-U-ME u MaKe aN ASS oUt oF U aNd ME
dear jess,
i learned some years back from 16 year old then, that the word ASSUME means when you assume you make an ASS out of U and ME. Words of wisdom from a person almost a decade younger.
i Assumed that you didnt want to go to dinner so i didnt ask, who's fault is that?
i Assumed that that the world is unchangable, so i dont try, who's fault is that?
i Assumed that despite my deep disatisfaction with the way things are runned in this organisation, that lil ole me can never do anything about it, who's fault is that?
i Assumed that just because we are close, that i dont have to ask you how you are doing, who's fault is that?
i Assumed that just because you say things without thinking, that people would forgive you, who's fault is that?
i Assumed that just because security means money, all couples should be rich before marriage. who's fault is that?
i Assumed just because our parents created us, they have every right to right off our friends, girlfriends, and boyfriends, who's fault is that?
i Assumed that just because im a parent, my child is the tamest person on earth, who's fault is that?
i Assumed that just because that girl is sexy (and this term can be defined in a 100 ways) that makes her a bad person too, who's fault is that?
i Assumed that just because someone has had a bad history that she is always going to be that way, who's fault is that?
i Assumed that its okay to tell everyone about someone else, as long as they dont tell anyone else, and when everyone knows who's fault is that?
i Assumed that people should forgive me in an instant but i have every right not to forgive them for what they did to me, who's fault is that?
i Assumed just because a girl hangs out with lots of guys, that that makes her a bad person, who's fault is that?
i Assumed that just because someone has flexible work and study hours, that they are lazy, who's fault is that?
i Assumed that just because i've had a huge tragedy in my life, that its okay to do the whole self pity thing and be justified, who's fault is that?
i Assumed that just because i've had it BAD that no one else has had it WORSE, who's fault is that?
i Assumed that its okay to impose my views on others, just because i once again ASSUME im right, who's fault is that?
i Assumed that its okay to leave a friend behind on a field trip because i couldn't wait, who's fault is that?
i Assumed that because its really difficult to say sorry i dont have to, who's fault is that?
i Assumed that i dont need to say sorry, because you know what? it was never a mistake, only an ASSUMPTION after all, and we cant blame that now can we? and after all we do ASSUME that as friends we should just forgive each other, isnt it? i mean im not wrong not to assume that right?
i assume, it hurts when people assume, what do you think, ass? i mean jess?
yours assumingly (PS what makes u assume im writting this?)
jEss
i learned some years back from 16 year old then, that the word ASSUME means when you assume you make an ASS out of U and ME. Words of wisdom from a person almost a decade younger.
i Assumed that you didnt want to go to dinner so i didnt ask, who's fault is that?
i Assumed that that the world is unchangable, so i dont try, who's fault is that?
i Assumed that despite my deep disatisfaction with the way things are runned in this organisation, that lil ole me can never do anything about it, who's fault is that?
i Assumed that just because we are close, that i dont have to ask you how you are doing, who's fault is that?
i Assumed that just because you say things without thinking, that people would forgive you, who's fault is that?
i Assumed that just because security means money, all couples should be rich before marriage. who's fault is that?
i Assumed just because our parents created us, they have every right to right off our friends, girlfriends, and boyfriends, who's fault is that?
i Assumed that just because im a parent, my child is the tamest person on earth, who's fault is that?
i Assumed that just because that girl is sexy (and this term can be defined in a 100 ways) that makes her a bad person too, who's fault is that?
i Assumed that just because someone has had a bad history that she is always going to be that way, who's fault is that?
i Assumed that its okay to tell everyone about someone else, as long as they dont tell anyone else, and when everyone knows who's fault is that?
i Assumed that people should forgive me in an instant but i have every right not to forgive them for what they did to me, who's fault is that?
i Assumed just because a girl hangs out with lots of guys, that that makes her a bad person, who's fault is that?
i Assumed that just because someone has flexible work and study hours, that they are lazy, who's fault is that?
i Assumed that just because i've had a huge tragedy in my life, that its okay to do the whole self pity thing and be justified, who's fault is that?
i Assumed that just because i've had it BAD that no one else has had it WORSE, who's fault is that?
i Assumed that its okay to impose my views on others, just because i once again ASSUME im right, who's fault is that?
i Assumed that its okay to leave a friend behind on a field trip because i couldn't wait, who's fault is that?
i Assumed that because its really difficult to say sorry i dont have to, who's fault is that?
i Assumed that i dont need to say sorry, because you know what? it was never a mistake, only an ASSUMPTION after all, and we cant blame that now can we? and after all we do ASSUME that as friends we should just forgive each other, isnt it? i mean im not wrong not to assume that right?
i assume, it hurts when people assume, what do you think, ass? i mean jess?
yours assumingly (PS what makes u assume im writting this?)
jEss
Thursday, January 13, 2005
eVerYoNe's eATiNg tOeNaiLs, i ThInK i ShOuLd ToO!
dear jess,
im feeling really passionate and idealistic tonight. yesterday i took a plane to my ideal country spain, and guess what? everyone there eats toenails. No kidding, and so i thought about it for a while, it seemed silly i know but i decided to ask a commoner. Hey whats with the toenails? and well apparently it was a norm, an accepted thing and so if i didnt do it id be weird. So i went ahead and took a toenail and just as i was about to put it in my mouth i woke up.
What makes us do the things we do? or more importantly what makes us accept the things we do? Why do we sit back and accept the fact that we will end up in a white collar job, get married before our 30s have two kids and die- thinking our lives were nice and complete? What makes us accept the fact that because things were done the same way as they've been 10 years ago it must be right? what makes us believe that our lives will end up happy? What makes us sit down and watch whilst indonesian's and philipino workers have absolutely no rights, and no ones fighting for them, what makes us sit back and knowingly let them be punished by fellow malaysian's? what makes us think that it is the mad men who are crazy and not us? What makes us think that women are the ones who needs rights to be fought for whilst men suffer in silence? What makes us think that we shouldnt stand up and make a change? Who on earth let us think that it was wrong to be idealistic?
Its funny, our paths have been set out in our head even before we realised it. When we were young and idealistic we swore we wouldnt spend ten hours at a job in front of a computer for the next 20 years of our lives. Is that so wrong? No but neither is leaving every comfort and security behind, taking all your money and travelling the world.
Why do we accept the fact that change has to be done by someone else, and not me? Because we're too comfortable, and because we love the taste of toenails..
Yours in the midst of spitting some nails out,
jess
im feeling really passionate and idealistic tonight. yesterday i took a plane to my ideal country spain, and guess what? everyone there eats toenails. No kidding, and so i thought about it for a while, it seemed silly i know but i decided to ask a commoner. Hey whats with the toenails? and well apparently it was a norm, an accepted thing and so if i didnt do it id be weird. So i went ahead and took a toenail and just as i was about to put it in my mouth i woke up.
What makes us do the things we do? or more importantly what makes us accept the things we do? Why do we sit back and accept the fact that we will end up in a white collar job, get married before our 30s have two kids and die- thinking our lives were nice and complete? What makes us accept the fact that because things were done the same way as they've been 10 years ago it must be right? what makes us believe that our lives will end up happy? What makes us sit down and watch whilst indonesian's and philipino workers have absolutely no rights, and no ones fighting for them, what makes us sit back and knowingly let them be punished by fellow malaysian's? what makes us think that it is the mad men who are crazy and not us? What makes us think that women are the ones who needs rights to be fought for whilst men suffer in silence? What makes us think that we shouldnt stand up and make a change? Who on earth let us think that it was wrong to be idealistic?
Its funny, our paths have been set out in our head even before we realised it. When we were young and idealistic we swore we wouldnt spend ten hours at a job in front of a computer for the next 20 years of our lives. Is that so wrong? No but neither is leaving every comfort and security behind, taking all your money and travelling the world.
Why do we accept the fact that change has to be done by someone else, and not me? Because we're too comfortable, and because we love the taste of toenails..
Yours in the midst of spitting some nails out,
jess
Tuesday, January 04, 2005
I hATE wEaRiNg hEeLs sO sUe mE!!
dear jess,
Being a woman like me, and yes i do sometimes would like to be thought of as a woman, i was wondering if you ever wondered what really makes a woman? Should we all be dainty, presentable and soft spoken? Nothing wrong with those characteristics, but what about women who wear their hair short, and are big bonned? and what about women who are well not so on the soft side and speak out right? what about women who dont want to stay at home when they are married, hates cleaning the house and thinks manicures are a waste of time? are we any less a woman? heck no! are we any less attractive? i hesitate to answer that..
Now see, i was thinking about this and i realise that despite the fact that we've entered into worlds of change since our parents' time, alot of men still find a typicallly 'woman' very attractive. Whilst im not saying that women should just 'let go' and not look after themselves, are women more accepting of men and how they look? Are we the ones who end up with beer bellied men and accept it anyhow? Or are women culprits to the whole idealism of what a men should OWN rather than BE in preparation of a relationship? Worse still are women just as guilty if not MORE of placing 'womenly women' on a high up pedestal of what a "REAL WOMAN" should be??
I have to admit that i realise this through my own dreary mistake that i so would love to blame on the upbringing of society, but i am society. Upon looking at a girl who was beyond dainty but nevertheless beautiful beyond skin deep, i made the comment that 'she would grow out of it' in my mind thinking that it was a phase. And what if it isnt? Does that mean she would be lesser of a woman, or less attractive?
Im talking about beyond "womenly" personality. So we dont speak softly, we're competitive and maybe we're not always "beautiful" (dont even get me started on the meaning of beauty..), but never short of being a woman.
Well enough said, i dont think a woman should say so much? what can i say im a product of
so-cie-ty.. haha
yours, a different kind of woman and proud of it,
jess
Being a woman like me, and yes i do sometimes would like to be thought of as a woman, i was wondering if you ever wondered what really makes a woman? Should we all be dainty, presentable and soft spoken? Nothing wrong with those characteristics, but what about women who wear their hair short, and are big bonned? and what about women who are well not so on the soft side and speak out right? what about women who dont want to stay at home when they are married, hates cleaning the house and thinks manicures are a waste of time? are we any less a woman? heck no! are we any less attractive? i hesitate to answer that..
Now see, i was thinking about this and i realise that despite the fact that we've entered into worlds of change since our parents' time, alot of men still find a typicallly 'woman' very attractive. Whilst im not saying that women should just 'let go' and not look after themselves, are women more accepting of men and how they look? Are we the ones who end up with beer bellied men and accept it anyhow? Or are women culprits to the whole idealism of what a men should OWN rather than BE in preparation of a relationship? Worse still are women just as guilty if not MORE of placing 'womenly women' on a high up pedestal of what a "REAL WOMAN" should be??
I have to admit that i realise this through my own dreary mistake that i so would love to blame on the upbringing of society, but i am society. Upon looking at a girl who was beyond dainty but nevertheless beautiful beyond skin deep, i made the comment that 'she would grow out of it' in my mind thinking that it was a phase. And what if it isnt? Does that mean she would be lesser of a woman, or less attractive?
Im talking about beyond "womenly" personality. So we dont speak softly, we're competitive and maybe we're not always "beautiful" (dont even get me started on the meaning of beauty..), but never short of being a woman.
Well enough said, i dont think a woman should say so much? what can i say im a product of
so-cie-ty.. haha
yours, a different kind of woman and proud of it,
jess
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