dear jess,
last week a friend's wife passed away. she was 8 months pregnant and only 30 years old. she fell in the bathroom and her husband found her in the morning. she had that anneurism thing that my grandmother did. its when a vein bursts in your brain and it has no age barrier or direct cause. the symptom would be this huge, horrible headache.
it was so tragic that she passed away that way and was pregnant. it was their first year into their marriage too.
life is fleeting and so is the time spent with loved ones!
love,
jess
Friday, May 23, 2008
Saturday, May 10, 2008
an ulcer a week, keeps the chatterbox away
dear jess,
im writing to you today because talking is proving to be difficult lately. quite literally having the ulcer on my tongue, my prone to ulcer mouth usually happens on the gum area, so now that its landed on the side of my tongue, i find myself talking only necessary, and pronouncing my r's as w's. its quite laughable - "buy me a swurpee please?"
as you can tell, i perhaps need to chatter and hence my foresight towards a non introspective mail. i have since being the little urban girl needed to pause and reflect on the changes in my life. well not so much changes in my life as it is surrounding my life.. in the last couple of years i have met people in gangs. Recently an individual badly injured because, as they say, he got "chopped." he has too many too-count stitches, lost his fourth finger and part of his skull! we travelled to malacca for the wedding and his story amazes me.
i really like being here, in the historical city and i would always do my ritualistic walk down to the mall and if i can squeeze in the whole "red" area, go to kampung portugis for my v-coffee and practise my kristang by picking up new vocab, sit at kolam chuan whilst the other half fishes and have chicken ball rice at the best place, far away from all the touristy ball rice. the extras wil be my classic ole skool ice kacang at saturday ice cafe, the oh so superb asam pedas and mary biadu's meehon.
i have in the last couple of years learned a few more strange malaccan and kristang traditions , the nicknaming, the heart and cross symbol for eurasian weddings, to go to pulau besar you must pantang from pork for a week, the st francis statue story, the most superb mango juice is the uncle's stall at settlement, pheng (feng) is a kristang dish out of pigs inerts which taste awesome (that upon questioning my mum, i learned she didnt learn to make it cos she didnt like it!), malaccans eat wan tan mee with cili boh and it actually tastes good.
im writing to you today because talking is proving to be difficult lately. quite literally having the ulcer on my tongue, my prone to ulcer mouth usually happens on the gum area, so now that its landed on the side of my tongue, i find myself talking only necessary, and pronouncing my r's as w's. its quite laughable - "buy me a swurpee please?"
as you can tell, i perhaps need to chatter and hence my foresight towards a non introspective mail. i have since being the little urban girl needed to pause and reflect on the changes in my life. well not so much changes in my life as it is surrounding my life.. in the last couple of years i have met people in gangs. Recently an individual badly injured because, as they say, he got "chopped." he has too many too-count stitches, lost his fourth finger and part of his skull! we travelled to malacca for the wedding and his story amazes me.
i really like being here, in the historical city and i would always do my ritualistic walk down to the mall and if i can squeeze in the whole "red" area, go to kampung portugis for my v-coffee and practise my kristang by picking up new vocab, sit at kolam chuan whilst the other half fishes and have chicken ball rice at the best place, far away from all the touristy ball rice. the extras wil be my classic ole skool ice kacang at saturday ice cafe, the oh so superb asam pedas and mary biadu's meehon.
i have in the last couple of years learned a few more strange malaccan and kristang traditions , the nicknaming, the heart and cross symbol for eurasian weddings, to go to pulau besar you must pantang from pork for a week, the st francis statue story, the most superb mango juice is the uncle's stall at settlement, pheng (feng) is a kristang dish out of pigs inerts which taste awesome (that upon questioning my mum, i learned she didnt learn to make it cos she didnt like it!), malaccans eat wan tan mee with cili boh and it actually tastes good.
whats the fweaking pont jess? im still that urban sheltered girl with education and dreams that go whoa, cool, now i know someting or someone new.
jak, yo kere by drumi,
jess
Thursday, May 01, 2008
its always about.. love
dear jess,
of all the capabilities of human beings, the most remarkable must be their ability to love.
at some point in my life, i reach the treshold and i had invested everythin in the one person that i had chosen to love. chosen. it would not matter as much what people said anymore. i remember once in the past, when i was much younger, i ran to this person- who would then seem to me to be wise, and i told her, foolishly, oh so foolishly about how much i liked this person. the next thing i knew, i was warned about being with someone who was- as i shall put it- not "protestan." and it went on, someone else found out and called someone else cos i was dating a - oh wait, here comes the word, a "non- protestan."
the equation in my life would be that none of my wonderful "protestan" friends would ever meet my "non-protestan" person in my life. my personal life, shut with a huge lock on it, and some of the "closest" people finding out events new to them that would have by then been a couple of years.
when people are different and things are hugely unpredictable, people become scared. me included, me especially.
i came to the realisation that my religion- not my faith was part of my upbringing. i went to sunday school, went to church camps, youth camps, brethren youth camps, served in church, etcetera, etcetera. I bring this to the relationship and i think that i dont want to change everything i know, i wont be "non-protestan" because apparently this is who iam.
i have more to say and less words to say them with at the moment. :)
yours my love,
jess
Thursday, April 17, 2008
aging with craze
dear jess
the best thing about turning thirty this year was that i got to act like a three year old. and it was allllllllll worth it.. i recommend it to everyone. rent a place, play games, eat, laugh, play dodgeball, run into someone while playing baseball, and most importantly throw ice water on everyone at 1am. if that happen everytime i turn thirty i wouldnt mind doing it ev-er-y-day.
more on facebook :)
the best thing about turning thirty this year was that i got to act like a three year old. and it was allllllllll worth it.. i recommend it to everyone. rent a place, play games, eat, laugh, play dodgeball, run into someone while playing baseball, and most importantly throw ice water on everyone at 1am. if that happen everytime i turn thirty i wouldnt mind doing it ev-er-y-day.
more on facebook :)
dodgeball punishment.. pouring ice water oh so slowly over you... 
Friday, April 04, 2008
...
dear jess,
God has been good to me. more so than i have Him. i know that there are things in our life that changes us, experiences, places, people, events. all of us thinking that our experiences is more important than anybody elses. the uni life, the boyfriend, the travelling.
and then one day, you find out something. perhaps its a death, a well kept secret or a sickness that requires a changed lifestyle. how does someone with cancer deal when he is told that what he thought of his body all this while, really isnt..
everything changes. everything is different. and the only experience more important than anybody elses, is how God still loves you.
it still surprises me, perhaps just as much as it should Him, that im still loved by God. my bad. i measure God against people i know.
undesrving, selfish, me, i cant grasp that there is nothing i can do or not do to make Him love me more or less. im pretty sure i wont till the day i die.
yours
jess
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
the good die young
dear jess
there was this sign that i fail to remember where i saw now. it was huge and it said "i love art, i just hate the art world" i laughed on the spot and did a "mental gesture" of fisting my heart towards the sign. my cousin, i think it was, next to me just remained blank. i didnt bother to explain.
there is a point in history-local theatre english history to be specific where someone was noted for winning the "first" english playwrighting script. the rules were that you can submit an unpublished work. his? wasnt. yet he wins first prize and he goes down in history for being the first at something.
there was another competition where the runner up was told that his play wasnt chosen because it was "too controversial." the "real winner" goes home feeling like a million dollars. he too goes down in history.
there are people in theatres today who write scripts and do a really bad job but still perform in large stages. they, will go down in history. all i can do is scratch my head and wonder frustratingly why so many untalented undeserving people can get so far.
i know that we all realise that at some point history is more closely related to fiction than anything else but im still, foolishly, a believer that our extremely imperfect world is capable of doing the right thing at the right time sometimes. i suppose "luck" plays a larger role in our lives than we think it does. well, perhaps more in other peoples lives than ours.
i love art. i hate the art world.
*fists*
jess
Monday, March 10, 2008
dear jess,
dramatic times!!
the embarassment, the shock, the slap on the face.. everyone loves a good tale of people fighting for their rights and actual change being made. truth be told, this should have been a long time coming. the facade of previous PM which people STILL think of him as a "godfather" should have too realised that malaysians were not happy with the unequal treatment. of course, back then we had some form of prosperity and malaysia was supposedly being put on the world map with tall buildings and big race track.
people i speak today of still uphold that we wouldve been nothing without some of those things. seriously, do we really need a tall building and a world class track if our basic rights were being compromised.
i know theres so much happiness in the shock, i guess i just think its scary that when you have a charismatic leader who can scold you into submission, people thought that was good. but alas, that was the past.
it was a crazy night with people at weddings standing in front of the tv's watching the news. i got a mail today that was addressed to tv3 and cc'd concering why we werent told the news of the results properly and on time. i didnt even know that selangor was in opposition till sunday evening. newspapers were sold out and i assume the people i lunched with also didnt know cos they didnt say anything!
so clearly im still in shock that selangor is in the opposition. good shock. the opposition has promised to be more transparent. no matter what happens, its good to know that the ruling should be afraid of the people and not the people of the ruling, yes?!
now, i wonder if we can get rid of that jail up north that allows people imprisonement without trial..
long live OUR malaysia!
sing mak bedah sinG!
yours,
jess
Tuesday, March 04, 2008
the countdown..
dear jess,
there is an epic proportion weighing in the back of whatever brain left that i own, telling me that in order to remain psychologically healthy i have to continue expressing myself. the eclipse of my time edges over and im slowly preparing myself for soon enough i will have to blow off the big three-oh on my cake. i cant even confront that by writing down the number. needless to say, denial has always been my best friend.
in my mind, im all set though. not like i have the option of turning back anyways. i grew up all of my 29 years never having a birthday party. not once. it has always been just family or close friends but growing up i didnt get any of those mc-donald parties or even those at home where friends would bring around gifts. i dont hold a grudge, but it has made me believe that parties should always be thrown by someone else who appreciates you, hence i havent gotten a party in 29 years HAHA.. im sure its just that no one would go through the trouble. denial, best friend; remember?
so im throwing a few -or so i think- for myself. and having a bash, while im at it, or so i think. but thats not the point of this letter was it? in some ways i think im looking forward to becoming a "woman."
time to be brave and to be my own person. time to go to the doctors without my mummy? she follows me, what am i to say i dont need you? okay so maybe i don really want to grow up, after all i always want my mummy for some things in life.
but i really want certain things that come with age, knowing who iam and being obnoxious about it, even when im wrong!
haha. well. there is always one thing that is good about growing older and i can attest to it. you stop wanting people to like you as much, realising that it really doesnt matter and you stop caring lesser and lesser about what people think about you, or things that relate to you. which explains why by the time you're 80, you can curse and not care!
to ageing and all its perks!
jess
there is an epic proportion weighing in the back of whatever brain left that i own, telling me that in order to remain psychologically healthy i have to continue expressing myself. the eclipse of my time edges over and im slowly preparing myself for soon enough i will have to blow off the big three-oh on my cake. i cant even confront that by writing down the number. needless to say, denial has always been my best friend.
in my mind, im all set though. not like i have the option of turning back anyways. i grew up all of my 29 years never having a birthday party. not once. it has always been just family or close friends but growing up i didnt get any of those mc-donald parties or even those at home where friends would bring around gifts. i dont hold a grudge, but it has made me believe that parties should always be thrown by someone else who appreciates you, hence i havent gotten a party in 29 years HAHA.. im sure its just that no one would go through the trouble. denial, best friend; remember?
so im throwing a few -or so i think- for myself. and having a bash, while im at it, or so i think. but thats not the point of this letter was it? in some ways i think im looking forward to becoming a "woman."
time to be brave and to be my own person. time to go to the doctors without my mummy? she follows me, what am i to say i dont need you? okay so maybe i don really want to grow up, after all i always want my mummy for some things in life.
but i really want certain things that come with age, knowing who iam and being obnoxious about it, even when im wrong!
haha. well. there is always one thing that is good about growing older and i can attest to it. you stop wanting people to like you as much, realising that it really doesnt matter and you stop caring lesser and lesser about what people think about you, or things that relate to you. which explains why by the time you're 80, you can curse and not care!
to ageing and all its perks!
jess
Thursday, February 28, 2008
do one thing that scares you, everyday.
dear jess.
ok. so maybe not everyday. i heard that from someone on tv and i cant remember who it was. i try to these things, like go to an audition and try out for weird roles. auditions scare me but also gives me a sense of perspective. it use to disraught me and i would leave knowing i didnt get it and wonder, whats wrong with me. that would subsequently lead me to three days of depression. these days i leave the room and laugh thinking i wouldnt hire me! maybe its a part of growing up, but i think the best thing i want to adopt in my life is being able to laugh at myself.
recently i had the opportunity to do a workshop. and the scary thing was that i have never taught adults beyond a certain age. in addition to the group that would range to a near almost retirement age, i had to train trainers. they would probably have hawk eyes eyeing my every move.
i contemplated hiding under table, as i do that best and shrugged it off. i would enter an experience that i had no control over. if i taught kids, i knew how to do it, young adults, no problem. but corporate people who train for a living from a top notch petroloeum company? *check* on scary thing for the month!
so there i was laptop on my back and a big bag with props on my side as i walked from the train station and got lost to the damn hotel no one was able to tell me where, WHICH as usual was only ten minutes away i took half hour through the blazing sun and the pack on my bag made me feel like i was on amazing race with no partner to shout at. finally got to my place with only four hours of sleep for a couple of nights already, i set up to the comments of "oh you're the trainer?" yes, the one time i actually wished i look older.
then as we were to start the first few comers were men that look like they were in their 40s and 50s with their ties and long sleeves and my mind went, im going to ask these people to play games, lie on the floor and touch each others diaphragm. God help me!
as it turns out, they were quite the opposite of the stuffy type office people i had in mind and my jaw was hurting from the laughter they caused during these games. how awesome!
at the end of the day i had to lug my things back to the train station, stood in the corner of the train where i felt like puking thanks to the rush hour and my back and feet still ache from the experience, it was well worth the sleepless nights and pain.
now, i wonder whats scheduled for march on my scare me list? i know whats on aprils list HAHA growing old that is :)
XOXO
jess
ok. so maybe not everyday. i heard that from someone on tv and i cant remember who it was. i try to these things, like go to an audition and try out for weird roles. auditions scare me but also gives me a sense of perspective. it use to disraught me and i would leave knowing i didnt get it and wonder, whats wrong with me. that would subsequently lead me to three days of depression. these days i leave the room and laugh thinking i wouldnt hire me! maybe its a part of growing up, but i think the best thing i want to adopt in my life is being able to laugh at myself.
recently i had the opportunity to do a workshop. and the scary thing was that i have never taught adults beyond a certain age. in addition to the group that would range to a near almost retirement age, i had to train trainers. they would probably have hawk eyes eyeing my every move.
i contemplated hiding under table, as i do that best and shrugged it off. i would enter an experience that i had no control over. if i taught kids, i knew how to do it, young adults, no problem. but corporate people who train for a living from a top notch petroloeum company? *check* on scary thing for the month!
so there i was laptop on my back and a big bag with props on my side as i walked from the train station and got lost to the damn hotel no one was able to tell me where, WHICH as usual was only ten minutes away i took half hour through the blazing sun and the pack on my bag made me feel like i was on amazing race with no partner to shout at. finally got to my place with only four hours of sleep for a couple of nights already, i set up to the comments of "oh you're the trainer?" yes, the one time i actually wished i look older.
then as we were to start the first few comers were men that look like they were in their 40s and 50s with their ties and long sleeves and my mind went, im going to ask these people to play games, lie on the floor and touch each others diaphragm. God help me!
as it turns out, they were quite the opposite of the stuffy type office people i had in mind and my jaw was hurting from the laughter they caused during these games. how awesome!
at the end of the day i had to lug my things back to the train station, stood in the corner of the train where i felt like puking thanks to the rush hour and my back and feet still ache from the experience, it was well worth the sleepless nights and pain.
now, i wonder whats scheduled for march on my scare me list? i know whats on aprils list HAHA growing old that is :)
XOXO
jess
Thursday, February 21, 2008
of black cats and green lights..
dear jess,
its kinda fun, like watchin miami ink without the annoying ami. thats where i have been spending my free time mostly..when you have no choice but to hang out in a tat shop -just cos- so wat do you do? watch people.. here was a girl who came into the shop and was totally freaked out, she was practically tearing before the inking. still, props to her she did her first tattoo at a veryyyy painful place (behind the ear) and she got through it blood, sweat and tears. its fun actually being able to watch people make their live changing-well sort of-decisions while i down doughnuts.
uni students doing an interview
kev doing a tat while SOMEONE knocked the bed!! lucky it wasnt me.
sunway pyramid has a cool parking system where u can see green lights on the empty spots! sigh sedihnya my life haha. will be back with more tales of other peoples life :P
yours looking for the green lights,
jess
Thursday, February 14, 2008
you can take the girl out of the jeans, but you cant take the jeans out of the girl
dear jess,
im tempted to just tell you that this and this has happened in my life and get over with the letter. you know, enough with the self reflection thing. haha like as if. ive had several information on my mind that i cant wait to list for you.
we went to old school last weekend and "witnessed" some sort of robbery, by the time i brought the ten men that came with me (haha) across the road and to where there was now twenty people, the robbers -three of them had grabbed the robbee, who was HUGEEE and whacked him and accused him of curi motor. since no one actually saw what was happenig from across the road at the dark petrol station, before you knew it the three had ran off on their getaway kap chai and the poor huge man was bleeding from his head and crying!
I hate feeling helpless. like there were twenty people who came to help him and none could because no one knew what happened. at least my one man stopped the three guys from further hitting him. i prayed that God would punish the three severely, but who am i..
i took the train to the heart of the city today in a dress, had espresso and went to meet my "clients." i finally got to see the view of the city from the sky bridge, well the same level, i didnt know if i wanted to sneak into the sky bridge with my visitors pass, but that made my day. who knew the city looks beautiful the further away you are from it.
oh, and look no self reflection. :)
yours.
jess
im tempted to just tell you that this and this has happened in my life and get over with the letter. you know, enough with the self reflection thing. haha like as if. ive had several information on my mind that i cant wait to list for you.
we went to old school last weekend and "witnessed" some sort of robbery, by the time i brought the ten men that came with me (haha) across the road and to where there was now twenty people, the robbers -three of them had grabbed the robbee, who was HUGEEE and whacked him and accused him of curi motor. since no one actually saw what was happenig from across the road at the dark petrol station, before you knew it the three had ran off on their getaway kap chai and the poor huge man was bleeding from his head and crying!
I hate feeling helpless. like there were twenty people who came to help him and none could because no one knew what happened. at least my one man stopped the three guys from further hitting him. i prayed that God would punish the three severely, but who am i..
i took the train to the heart of the city today in a dress, had espresso and went to meet my "clients." i finally got to see the view of the city from the sky bridge, well the same level, i didnt know if i wanted to sneak into the sky bridge with my visitors pass, but that made my day. who knew the city looks beautiful the further away you are from it.
oh, and look no self reflection. :)
yours.
jess
Friday, February 01, 2008
fashion advice?
dont wear black this chinese new year..
haha.. couldnt resist taking this. love the pants :P
HAPPY CHINESE NEW YEAR!!! cant wait to stuff my self and my pockets ..
haha.. couldnt resist taking this. love the pants :PHAPPY CHINESE NEW YEAR!!! cant wait to stuff my self and my pockets ..
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
...
dear jess,
i feel that i must write to keep my sanity. after all, that is what that does keep my sanity, somewhat. and this pain, it has been here some days now, and it is not true that you get use to certain things over a period of time.
but i don't know what i should say or should not. and all i do is suffer in silence. as i always do.
apparently. people who hold their feelings in die earlier, a survey done over the lifetime of some couples showed that those who did argue and fight lived longer because they expressed themselves. so the key is that im suppose to express myself.
maybe my blog will keep me alive. then again, with all my vaguness, maybe not.
yours,
jess
i feel that i must write to keep my sanity. after all, that is what that does keep my sanity, somewhat. and this pain, it has been here some days now, and it is not true that you get use to certain things over a period of time.
but i don't know what i should say or should not. and all i do is suffer in silence. as i always do.
apparently. people who hold their feelings in die earlier, a survey done over the lifetime of some couples showed that those who did argue and fight lived longer because they expressed themselves. so the key is that im suppose to express myself.
maybe my blog will keep me alive. then again, with all my vaguness, maybe not.
yours,
jess
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
how much are you worth?
dear jess,
the question, the reocurring question in my life has been the consistency of how much im really worth. if you were working as a managerial position of some sort, and got 10000 dollars a day, u would only be worth about rm500 a day. of course this is me doing math and i can be totally wrong but basically ure not worth more than rm62 an hour if u work an 8hour job. and that is if u make 10000bucks.
so anyways, i hate negotiating and to tell someone i should get paid more is the most difficult thing in the world for me. but i did that, only to retort to a "is that negotiable."
you people suck. for lack of a less rude word.
i remember placing a high price on myself and not getting the job altho in their own words were that i was "the most qualified." so now theyve hired someone lesser a man for the job?
ive collected a lifetime, well it feels like it, of materials, books and experience and i hate feeling like im gettting only ten percent of what ten students have paid the management. im going to open a drama school and give free lessons and make all of you run out of business..
*BLEAH*
lucky for you im a lazy arse. which probably explains my happiness for the fact that whilst everyone gets off two days a week i only work two days a week.
be damned people who dont pay me what i want. im only too happy to not work, passion or none.
yours,
jess
Friday, January 18, 2008
when i grow up..
dear jess,
ask anyone and i dare bet that they all think that they are "different." heres the thing that got me thinking. i was talking to one of my friends who is a tatoo artist (yeap) and a dj and a cameraman. talented apparently and as some of us were talking he told us about a story that ended with him talking about being himself, which includes liking to be different and owning tatoos was part of that.
here's the thing. if it were me i would say that having no tatoos is also being different since alot of people are jumping on the bandwagon. for that matter, i think that im the only person left on earth, to my knowledge, that thinks rihana's "umbrella" is still a stupid song, that somehow made it so big that everyone loves it.
not to mention her hair.
before everyone had it, i wanted it and now, im so thankful i dont. everyone has the same freaking hair style!!!!
back to the topic. ask everyone and they'll tell you how different we are. but are we so stupid to not realise that everyone is different and by saying that we are different, we are really being the same as everyone else???
get it??
ask anyone and i dare bet that they all think that they are "different." heres the thing that got me thinking. i was talking to one of my friends who is a tatoo artist (yeap) and a dj and a cameraman. talented apparently and as some of us were talking he told us about a story that ended with him talking about being himself, which includes liking to be different and owning tatoos was part of that.
here's the thing. if it were me i would say that having no tatoos is also being different since alot of people are jumping on the bandwagon. for that matter, i think that im the only person left on earth, to my knowledge, that thinks rihana's "umbrella" is still a stupid song, that somehow made it so big that everyone loves it.
not to mention her hair.
before everyone had it, i wanted it and now, im so thankful i dont. everyone has the same freaking hair style!!!!
back to the topic. ask everyone and they'll tell you how different we are. but are we so stupid to not realise that everyone is different and by saying that we are different, we are really being the same as everyone else???
get it??
ahhhh.. now that i got that off my chest :)
XOXO
jess
Thursday, January 10, 2008
lets start where we should start
i got my new journal and its the cutest little thing. so cute i hesitated to write in it and yes that adorable pen! how appropriate my book is called monologue. heres to the 2008. ps. if you're getting married this year with the throngs of others i predict will, you've just annoyed me by 10 percent.Saturday, December 29, 2007
everyone wants a new slate, or so they think
dear jess,
the year comes to an end, and im thrilled. somewhat, atlhough i dont know why. there are chances though that i will be terribly depressed as i go into another "age zone" in less than four months time..
ive read a book, and it tells of how in order for us to become better, or something like tat, we have to erase our personal history. and, at first that shocked me. for our personal history is who we are, isn't it? but ive come to realise that perhaps that is true. our personal history may trap us more than it gives us a sense of identity. our past traps us to think that we've made unforgivable mistakes, or that being a student and playing with snow was the best times of our lives, or that because we were once handsome, we might still have hope to become that again. ive seen people living in the past, and to a certain extend i do too, and truth be told, its getting awfully tiring. like tat old record playing over and over again or the uncle who keeps telling you the same story over and over again.
well, if i succesfully erase my personal history, that leaves me with not much writing material; of course with the excpetion of annoying people that i will always be able to write about.
sounds good right? im turning thirty soon (just to say it makes me quiver) and i dont have anything to succesfully show for it. im not worth a certain amount, im not at a certain social strata and for all the asians reading this, who rate success this way, im not married with kids. i guess what makes it okay would be that i dont care, i never have and refuse to. there, no personal history there?!
our attachment to things, experiences and routines are like personal histories.
If you have no personal history, no explanations are needed; nobody is angry or disillusioned with your acts. And above all no one pins you down with their thoughts. It is best to erase all personal history because that makes us free from the encumbering thoughts of other people.
Begin with simple things, such as not revealing what you really do. What's wrong is that once people know you, you are an affair taken for granted and from that moment on you won't be able to break the tie of their thoughts. I personally like the ultimate freedom of being unknown. No one knows me with steadfast certainty, the way people know you, for instance. From now on you must simply show people whatever you care to show them, but without ever telling exactly how you've done it. You see, we only have two alternatives; we either take everything for sure and real, or we don't. If we follow the first, we end up bored to death with ourselves and with the world. If we follow the second and erase personal history, we create a fog around us, a very exciting and mysterious state in which nobody knows where the rabbit will pop out, not even ourselves.
If you really want to learn, you have to remodel most of your behavior. You take yourself too seriously. You are too damn important in your own mind. That must be changed! You are so goddamn important that you feel justified to be annoyed with everything. You're so damn important that you can afford to leave if things don't go your way. I suppose you think that shows you have character. That's nonsense! You're weak, and conceited! In the course of your life you have not ever finished anything because of that sense of disproportionate importance that you attach to yourself.
excerpts from Journey to Ixtlan by Carlos Castaneda, on which Paolo Coehlo based his thoughts on for The Zahir.
so, looks like i have alot to work on for the new year. Well, happy new year and as they say in my mother tongue bong anu nobu :)
yours
jess
the year comes to an end, and im thrilled. somewhat, atlhough i dont know why. there are chances though that i will be terribly depressed as i go into another "age zone" in less than four months time..
ive read a book, and it tells of how in order for us to become better, or something like tat, we have to erase our personal history. and, at first that shocked me. for our personal history is who we are, isn't it? but ive come to realise that perhaps that is true. our personal history may trap us more than it gives us a sense of identity. our past traps us to think that we've made unforgivable mistakes, or that being a student and playing with snow was the best times of our lives, or that because we were once handsome, we might still have hope to become that again. ive seen people living in the past, and to a certain extend i do too, and truth be told, its getting awfully tiring. like tat old record playing over and over again or the uncle who keeps telling you the same story over and over again.
well, if i succesfully erase my personal history, that leaves me with not much writing material; of course with the excpetion of annoying people that i will always be able to write about.
sounds good right? im turning thirty soon (just to say it makes me quiver) and i dont have anything to succesfully show for it. im not worth a certain amount, im not at a certain social strata and for all the asians reading this, who rate success this way, im not married with kids. i guess what makes it okay would be that i dont care, i never have and refuse to. there, no personal history there?!
our attachment to things, experiences and routines are like personal histories.
If you have no personal history, no explanations are needed; nobody is angry or disillusioned with your acts. And above all no one pins you down with their thoughts. It is best to erase all personal history because that makes us free from the encumbering thoughts of other people.
Begin with simple things, such as not revealing what you really do. What's wrong is that once people know you, you are an affair taken for granted and from that moment on you won't be able to break the tie of their thoughts. I personally like the ultimate freedom of being unknown. No one knows me with steadfast certainty, the way people know you, for instance. From now on you must simply show people whatever you care to show them, but without ever telling exactly how you've done it. You see, we only have two alternatives; we either take everything for sure and real, or we don't. If we follow the first, we end up bored to death with ourselves and with the world. If we follow the second and erase personal history, we create a fog around us, a very exciting and mysterious state in which nobody knows where the rabbit will pop out, not even ourselves.
If you really want to learn, you have to remodel most of your behavior. You take yourself too seriously. You are too damn important in your own mind. That must be changed! You are so goddamn important that you feel justified to be annoyed with everything. You're so damn important that you can afford to leave if things don't go your way. I suppose you think that shows you have character. That's nonsense! You're weak, and conceited! In the course of your life you have not ever finished anything because of that sense of disproportionate importance that you attach to yourself.
excerpts from Journey to Ixtlan by Carlos Castaneda, on which Paolo Coehlo based his thoughts on for The Zahir.
so, looks like i have alot to work on for the new year. Well, happy new year and as they say in my mother tongue bong anu nobu :)
yours
jess
Thursday, December 13, 2007
its starting to look like..
dear jess,
im sitting here on the floor of a hotel, with the lappy on a makeshift table, which is a chair really. i dont really have anything to say except be like everyone else and perhaps i should somehow talk about the year and so on so forth.
i suppose we can measure the year in wat we've accomplished or how many people love us or how much we've done. which is why i usually dont do much of that. the only thing that i can count is the books ive read, which i tend to be quite proud of, even if its two.
but what i thought i was going to say, as i was on the way back from my grandmother's, grandfathers' and great grandmothers' graveyard this afternoon, here at the little town with 13 firsts of malaysia, was that we humans need to measure stuff, or do something in order to feel that we are of value or that we are alive.
we put flowers in the grave, despite the fact that it really wouldnt mean anything to a person who cant appreciate it anymore, people whomewe probably never bought flowers prior to their death, but it makes us feel good, or that we have something to do in the land which represents the absence of activities.
so anyways, the year, right?
i was looking forward to december, its a time of enjoying the christmas season, but not so much this one, because im crunching on my work and i need to finish that before christmas. otherwise i would be tagging along from shopping mall after shopping mall, and i would be in singapore, plus i would also be planning a childrens carolling in puchong. instead im stuck here, on my make shift table.
so i need to do those things, and buy those candy's i never eat so it feels like chrismas, you know.
back to the year.
well, by now, you would probably have realised that i have nothing to say about the year really. however im really proud that i manage to keep my life compartmentalise. does that make sense? perhaps not, because you're in one compartment that doesnt always have to understand what i was saying. i suppose im proud that i manage to keep my life to myself, and to me thats a big accomplishment. no award, no calculation just a personal satisfaction.
on that, let me leave you with a bizzare note, everyone should have carls jr, at least once in their lives, despite the fact that the burger cost 17 ringgit and the set 20 plus. yes, it is that good.
your,
jess
im sitting here on the floor of a hotel, with the lappy on a makeshift table, which is a chair really. i dont really have anything to say except be like everyone else and perhaps i should somehow talk about the year and so on so forth.
i suppose we can measure the year in wat we've accomplished or how many people love us or how much we've done. which is why i usually dont do much of that. the only thing that i can count is the books ive read, which i tend to be quite proud of, even if its two.
but what i thought i was going to say, as i was on the way back from my grandmother's, grandfathers' and great grandmothers' graveyard this afternoon, here at the little town with 13 firsts of malaysia, was that we humans need to measure stuff, or do something in order to feel that we are of value or that we are alive.
we put flowers in the grave, despite the fact that it really wouldnt mean anything to a person who cant appreciate it anymore, people whomewe probably never bought flowers prior to their death, but it makes us feel good, or that we have something to do in the land which represents the absence of activities.
so anyways, the year, right?
i was looking forward to december, its a time of enjoying the christmas season, but not so much this one, because im crunching on my work and i need to finish that before christmas. otherwise i would be tagging along from shopping mall after shopping mall, and i would be in singapore, plus i would also be planning a childrens carolling in puchong. instead im stuck here, on my make shift table.
so i need to do those things, and buy those candy's i never eat so it feels like chrismas, you know.
back to the year.
well, by now, you would probably have realised that i have nothing to say about the year really. however im really proud that i manage to keep my life compartmentalise. does that make sense? perhaps not, because you're in one compartment that doesnt always have to understand what i was saying. i suppose im proud that i manage to keep my life to myself, and to me thats a big accomplishment. no award, no calculation just a personal satisfaction.
on that, let me leave you with a bizzare note, everyone should have carls jr, at least once in their lives, despite the fact that the burger cost 17 ringgit and the set 20 plus. yes, it is that good.
your,
jess
Sunday, December 02, 2007
leave me be
dear jess,
a friend of mine was asked today if i was attending another church.
it makes you wonder, that in my anger should i just start binge eating in the next few hours? or perhaps it makes you wonder why i would be angry in the first place?
see, the thing is, i have had a strange history with church. the "church" and me have not been the best of friends. we were, once. then the "church" betrayed me. it said things about me that were not only untrue, it has scarred me so much for a few years now, that i have changed.
when i was younger and slightly more idealistic, i did what was me, and did not bother what others should think, less their assumption was wrong anyways. but apparently in light of that, i was still accused of being certain things, from people who had spoken less than two words to me in my whole life.
they seem so sure. they would say, jessica is...... and that would follow a warning. i would be so angry and yet i couldnt do anything about it.
so, after i was severly scared i decided that the church and me had to have a slightly new relationship. one that didnt see me talking too much, or hanging out with too many guys, or laughing too much. my church relationship was one that got me there and back again with little view of me, less it was necessary.
thus, it shouldnt surprise you if you hadnt met my new pet, my new dress, my new attitude or even a new person in my life. i have worked so hard and keeping it all away, nothing in my life should mingle, lest they, she, it, or he be judged.
so my anger isnt in a statement, or in a perception that at least i was attending a church, even if it isnt the one that i really am attending. my anger, yet again, i think frustration, is in the fact that no matter what i do, people find a fascination in assuming about me, my life, people who i probably havent said more than two words to.
perhaps i should look on the bright side of life and realise that i still have true friends who check these strange statements with me, or perhaps assume that other people's lives really arent interesting and they find that they just have to talk about me. perhaps that i should think that im like a superstar in my own life, getting "rumoured" about my oh - so - interesting life.
when my human spirit feels like its failing in me, when i feel that im so fed up and i have been doing good by not laughing too loud, or talking too much, or being seen and all else has failed.. i guess it brings back haunted memories.
im tired of being trapped as a creature of my past. so im going to pull up my sleeves and roll with it. the next time someone asks, tell them i attend a church in singapore every weekend, my boyfriend is brad pitt and that im migrating in the next two months. if someones going to talk about me, i should at least have some fun, no?
yours, and by that i mean mine,
jess
a friend of mine was asked today if i was attending another church.
it makes you wonder, that in my anger should i just start binge eating in the next few hours? or perhaps it makes you wonder why i would be angry in the first place?
see, the thing is, i have had a strange history with church. the "church" and me have not been the best of friends. we were, once. then the "church" betrayed me. it said things about me that were not only untrue, it has scarred me so much for a few years now, that i have changed.
when i was younger and slightly more idealistic, i did what was me, and did not bother what others should think, less their assumption was wrong anyways. but apparently in light of that, i was still accused of being certain things, from people who had spoken less than two words to me in my whole life.
they seem so sure. they would say, jessica is...... and that would follow a warning. i would be so angry and yet i couldnt do anything about it.
so, after i was severly scared i decided that the church and me had to have a slightly new relationship. one that didnt see me talking too much, or hanging out with too many guys, or laughing too much. my church relationship was one that got me there and back again with little view of me, less it was necessary.
thus, it shouldnt surprise you if you hadnt met my new pet, my new dress, my new attitude or even a new person in my life. i have worked so hard and keeping it all away, nothing in my life should mingle, lest they, she, it, or he be judged.
so my anger isnt in a statement, or in a perception that at least i was attending a church, even if it isnt the one that i really am attending. my anger, yet again, i think frustration, is in the fact that no matter what i do, people find a fascination in assuming about me, my life, people who i probably havent said more than two words to.
perhaps i should look on the bright side of life and realise that i still have true friends who check these strange statements with me, or perhaps assume that other people's lives really arent interesting and they find that they just have to talk about me. perhaps that i should think that im like a superstar in my own life, getting "rumoured" about my oh - so - interesting life.
when my human spirit feels like its failing in me, when i feel that im so fed up and i have been doing good by not laughing too loud, or talking too much, or being seen and all else has failed.. i guess it brings back haunted memories.
im tired of being trapped as a creature of my past. so im going to pull up my sleeves and roll with it. the next time someone asks, tell them i attend a church in singapore every weekend, my boyfriend is brad pitt and that im migrating in the next two months. if someones going to talk about me, i should at least have some fun, no?
yours, and by that i mean mine,
jess
Friday, November 30, 2007
knock knock
dear jess,
it seems that perhaps no one really had anything to say at all in the first place. that in the light of "facebook" maybe everyone really never ever had anything on their minds to say in the first and now that no one will pay attention to our blogs, we move on. maybe thats all we really want. us human beings. attention. im sure thats not a maybe.
perhaps thats all that makes us feel like we are part of this world and thats why we do the things we do. apart from facebook or bloggin that is. we get a fancy job, so we get attention, oops i mean so that we belong. or we do something different and travel or work odd hours, so that we belong, and yet dont belong enough for other people to envy us.
well, at least in my little crazy world where i try to find privacy on the web and yet have the feeling that im telling everyone and yet no one. perhaps this is just the perfect world for me.
Better go hungry than to be alone. because when you're alone - and im talking here about and enforced solitude not of our choosing- its as if you were no longer part of the human race. coehlo in zahir
it seems that perhaps no one really had anything to say at all in the first place. that in the light of "facebook" maybe everyone really never ever had anything on their minds to say in the first and now that no one will pay attention to our blogs, we move on. maybe thats all we really want. us human beings. attention. im sure thats not a maybe.
perhaps thats all that makes us feel like we are part of this world and thats why we do the things we do. apart from facebook or bloggin that is. we get a fancy job, so we get attention, oops i mean so that we belong. or we do something different and travel or work odd hours, so that we belong, and yet dont belong enough for other people to envy us.
well, at least in my little crazy world where i try to find privacy on the web and yet have the feeling that im telling everyone and yet no one. perhaps this is just the perfect world for me.
Better go hungry than to be alone. because when you're alone - and im talking here about and enforced solitude not of our choosing- its as if you were no longer part of the human race. coehlo in zahir
yours
jess
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