im GriEviNg foR yOu?

dear jess,

Im grieving a pain I thought was long gone. Perhaps ive denied you too long, for too much. Perhaps its just the desire that’s unexplainable and so painful that makes you cry. Its just so hard living without you..

in an attempt to sound as non dramatic as i can, i dont think i can survive if i dont find either of you. i wish i was a simpler person who was contented with the normalities of life. woe is me

i realise how much i miss you both. but oh will i ever get to be with you again?

yours,
The heartbroken, depressed again jess

the blurred out picture, as there are too many sharp things already.

Me and the rest at the Importance of Being Earnest

Bernie, me, shah and megat goofin around in

d dressing room during production of OTC

sUgaR anD sPicE anD aLL thiNgS niCE??

dear jess,

He told me that he was afraid of talking to me because he thinks that perhaps I don’t like him. Well maybe in some ways I don’t actually like him, or maybe in other ways I just don’t want to like him.

In a crude, mean and “im an old maid” way, I was so pleased to be told that ‘I was feared’ and that ‘I don know what goes on in your mind.’

More pleased than I would’ve expected. You see, ive always seen myself as someone that everyone walks over. Perhaps its my own fault that I let them.

Heres my reply. Im sorry, but you know im just the kind of person who doesn’t want to be close to many people. Because they’ve always disappoint me. at the very moment you think I sound arrogant and you’re probably right, I’m not looking for someone superhuman. its just that some people you let in your hearts, disappoint you one too many.

Im pretty happy where im at, intimidating people I never knew I was capable of. You see, at some point I wasn’t always cynical. In fact on some days when cynicism takes a holiday to Mauritius, I make that call for tea to the “friend” who betrayed me. But since holidays don’t come too easy, be prepared to be afraid. A concept of me I still find hilarious and unfathomable.

yours, and yet in reality, that isnt true,

jess

wHat wiLL bE neW abOut thE nEw yeAr?

dear jess,

so, in reality i dont have much to say to you. however, ive been thinking about one motivating factor that will help me get through this year. yes, perhaps im that much of a suicidal that i have not much reason or motivation in life. or in reality i am just a slacker, and it doesnt worry me much that i have no motivation to thrive in the new year. *bleah* hate the overachievers.

so anyways, i have found one, actually two things to look forward to the whole year and to get me through teaching a class of 12 boys and 2 girls, surviving the mundanity, and live in anticipation.

still in retrospect i did learn how to fish this year, and swim the year before. maybe it hasnt been too bad? and surprisingly i thoroughly enjoy doing the two. and for those who think fishing is boring, they sure havent fished for real.

i digress.

as for my anticipation? i shan't jinx it.

its time to go to bed and wake up to mundanity. *groans*

yours,
jess

cHaLkS, a ThiNg oF thE pASt

dear jess,

have you wondered, if you wondered in retrospect whether you did the right thing that perhaps you didnt? because if you are pondering about it right now it means that youre really regretting not doing something that you shouldve done.

its one of those spur of the moment things that requires you to find the voice deep within. should i have fought that fight? do i pick this one or is being quite the best way out now?

the thing is. i dont really know.

right now the girl who told me she wants to do theatre is going to do dance. and i wonder should i have said more despite them not believing that she said she wanted to , despite she putting dance as her first choice in the past, despite having already been shot down by the teachers? despite being my first time in the discussion?

and yet i didnt. i kept quiet.

are teacher's asses? you know. i had a math teacher once and she collected all these "weak" students and had extra classes.

you see. the girl who can dance and act will be the ones that we regret not fighting over whilst the incipit, insignificant ones that cant do anything, no one wants in their department. probably me regreting not saying anything makes me wonder was it because i missed a chance at a great talent or that i didnt do her right? what about the ones that claims loves dance but freezes up for a full ten minutes during auditions?

maybe im making myself feel a little better that the brilliant girl will probably be fine anywhere, in my theatre class or in her dance class. in the meanwhile. i was one of those that no one wanted. seriously. how many people do we know that never gave up on us?

i had an ass of a teacher who went "from you i expect a C lar, and from you pass also can lar" if only i was smarter and replied, i expect better too? i was too busy ducking my head behind the girl he just wanted an E from.

are teachers important because they teach? or because they are willing to teach the weak ones. the ones that you hate because they come to theatre class and go "i have to act?" or the ones that get stage fright?

did someone believe in whatever little talent i had or put in extra hours or spoke up for me? we always complain that our students arent good enough and theyre not living up to our expectations. maybe we should live up to theirs. i mean heck, the good students dont need us. in truth, we're the ones who're desperate for them.

truth has been revealed. before they martry me, the best teachers crave for the best students. in fact no one ever wants the sucky ones.

and i have no conclusion. teachers dont know everything

yours,

jess

bRinG oUt tHe cHaMpaGnE

dear jess

After too many years of eve’s of those so called new years, one wonders what the fuss is really all about. Why on earth are people lookin so drunkardly happy and screaming on the top of their lungs that its going to be another long, dreary endless year? If you haven’t already noticed, im all hoo haa’ed for the new year.

My pain in the a** eve – literally saw me running up and down to the toilet for 3 and a half days with my appetite currently remaining at a lost. Im not too keen on finding it back if it means I loose weight, on the other hand, im not sure who iam without my appetite.

Speaking of, in my arguably most insignificant new years of years im still wondering why ? again? Considering the people suffering in this world, I should be contented that I have basic health and the promise of things to come? So why do I remain not the least bit thrilled?

How many people hate their lives and am I one of them? Why should I call it new when everything is going to remain unfortunately as steadily the same as it was before? I will not remain in the blanket of hidden truths and pretend like the year is suppose to make me happy and I will not lie that I feel the distastefulness of things to come like the blandness of my food.

I am fed up. Of the everything being so frighteningly familiar, or perhaps that im letting it be that way. Everyday I pray for a reason.

yours,
jess

dear jess,

Ive been mooning over this letter for some weeks now. The ending or beginning of something always perplexes people to consider, reconsider, think, re-evaluate, look back and then forward. Perhaps sometimes with little point of the ever throbbing repetition of history, the same mistakes we will make, the same unachieved dreams, and the same wants of success and the blah blah’s of human cycle.

Sometimes, its difficult not to be bleak and dark when in reality our life seems so much like groundhog day. If not yours, then mine, perhaps.

In my quickie of re-evaluations I tend not to ponder on for too long, for the fear of a dip in the dark, ive come to see that in just one year ive had people closer to me than the skin on my bones, now familiar faces in a crowd of strangers. Friendship is a strange and deceiving thing. Ive always been biased to having male friends and ive realized that in my life to date ive had 3 girl pals who’ve betrayed me and my friendship. Perhaps that, in comparison to the one who has remained loyal for the last ten years makes up for the pain.

To be honest, I am empty and therefore re-evaluations and trying to be poignant just because it is the end of the year will be a failure by the end of this letter. Perhaps ive learned to be more patient in the face of accusations that I haven’t been nice enough or that ive used people or neglected many in the last year or maybe I’ve learned not to trust anyone anymore, or perhaps ive just learned to drag my legs in a world where my dreams are getting slightly bleak.

We always call Christmas a pagan festival in replacement. But I reckon God had a plan for that. Perhaps now in my evaluations, I see that no matter how you’ve failed me and how I’ve failed you, how I know the next year will be as filled with pain as joy, when I reach the end; there is hope, and that is the one single word that keeps human beings living and dreaming.

And perhaps the single hope I have for me and you this Christmas? Is that we find hope too. Bless you and as we say in my mother tongue bong natal.

yours this year and the next,

jess

tHe cOnStaNt pOunDinG iN yOUr heAD

.dear jess

The spread of humankind is plagued by verbs that limit us. Fear. Is that a verb? I never paid much attention in English classes. It was. Boring.

Life is a funny thing. When you have to do something that might be important to you suddenly you fear. You fear going to the audition because you don’t want to be rejected, or worse still if you got the part you fear you will really know how much you weren’t made to do the part.


The little voice that plants fear in your head always gives you the easy way out. You have no time. You have no money. You don’t really need it.

We fear making ourselves more interesting, or was it just plain laziness. We are too lazy to discover the deserts of western Australia, is there a desert there? I never paid much attention to geography, and yet I minored it. We aren’t too bothered about aiming for studying somewhere or working on a cruise ship that will take us places, because it’s much easier to be a computer technician here. We are too lazy to rock our world.

Here’s my “favourite.” Regret. Most of us live most of our lives in regret. We think that if we regret enough that we will have punished ourselves enough. We regret that one night but its too late because now we have Aids, we regret that one week, but now its too late because the due date has been long gone, we regret that one second, because now its too late, that she’s dead, gone and she will never know.

In that too often than not more than one moment we always wished we did this and didn’t do that. Went for this and not that, said this and not that.

Funny things we are. Human beings. And yet, more often than not we don’t find ourselves laughing.

Through all the world there goes one long cry from the heart of the artist: Give me leave to do my utmost. -Isak Dinesen

yours,

jess

conGrAtS :)

weDdiNG dAy :)

I mAkE a LoUsY frEN aNd iM noT asHaMeD!

Dear jess,

Someone asked someone (why do most stories began that way?) if the reason I hadn’t met up with that someone was because of a boy?

As I ponder in thought – not for an answer to the question but rather for how I should react. As I did, think; some things crossed my mind, do I seem like the type who would ditch people for a boy?; do people not know me? and of course do I really care enough to react?

Whilst it is the easiest and most reasonable to pick on that reason, the privacy of my quirky, less unfathomable personality must once again be made known much to my discomfort.

I don’t make a good friend.

And admittedly I don’t intend to. As selfish, ignorant and down right silly that sounds, one must be given credit for being honest.

With the best of persons there are, I sometimes just cant be bothered. I love going into my hole and being there by myself. The much noisy and extrovert person I thought I was has a stone in which she hides in for months.

Perhaps there are reasons for this. Sometimes it’s because meeting up with people means the worse of all; being put in a position where I’m somehow obligated to tell them my personal life. Being ‘friends’ and having a past together means I have to tell them my present. Or perhaps that there is nothing much that have changed; and even more so nothing that changed that they can accept as much as they would like to believe they can.

I am strange. no doubt. when im in a gleeful mood i feel that im in love with the whole world and want to have coffee with everyone. hence the bipolar disorder i claim to have

Im probably one of this people who will die a lonely death (laughs to self) or contrary; a crowded one with people all looking for me because i havent met up with them in months.

yours,

jess

Your Quirk Factor: 42%

You're a pretty quirky person, but you're just normal enough to hide it. Congratulations - you've fooled other people into thinking you're just like them!

How Quirky Are You?

i WenT anD goT mE a FisH :)

my first cAtCh :)

SO irresistably adoring.. thanks sis or rather i just stole it off your blog :) 

poSt cOLLoNiAL bULL****

dear jess,

ever since ive been accused of being to casual in my research writings, ive transfered my ‘need to be’ into using my large aesthetic words here, instead. lacking anymore emotional or personal depth and repeating regrets, ive decided to pick on something else instead.

as i was rereading comments from 'oh-so-great' theatre practitioner cum owner of studio cum im white but actually lebanese who once lived in australia, i came over this horrible play he once did. and when interviewed it was interesting, his reply was. to the question 'theatre goers did not enjoy your show, but non theatre goers did.' he loudly 'kutuk' theatre goers and applauded non theatre goers that he manage to 'entertain' them, because that was his aim.

you see, in a country where i-can-win-a-reality-competition-alto-i-cant-sing-dance-or-even-look-good but simply because im a village boy; one strives for the faintest, littlest hope that once again the stupid white men can save us.

but of course, that is post collonialism bull****.

why do white men walk into OUR theatre doors and pretend to understand gamelan and mak yong and wayang kulit whilst in the way they speak and look at you, you know they thing they're better than you?

simply because.

we let them.

my best example is the i-can-win-a-reality-competition-alto-i-cant-sing-dance-or-even-look-good boy.

we let them

we let the talentless win competitions, and the ones with the talent who fail to admit that even they can put up shows that fail, performances that will fall flat, theatre that has gone bad.. to those, we instead suck up and tell them that it was good, so that we get on their good sight. it still feels like we let them rule us. we've let ourselves become the product of post collonial... all together now..... ******

tesco's anyone?

yours

jess

bUttEr pRaWnS aNyOne??

dear jess

I sat there for three hours, squatting and standing and rarely blinking whilst my heart waited in anticipation and pounded like crazy when I caught one.

I was prawning.

They should allow that word in the dictionary, after all fishing for prawns is quite an oxymoron. jessica has got a new hobby (big grin)

As I sat there a few minutes before I discovered my new obsession, yes obsession that leaves you thinking of the next prawning session, I waited on the boys to finish their snooker game.

And just as it were to be me, it occurred that there are either two things wrong with the world. One, is that the world is very much male biased, OR two, is that women, lack hobbies.

Everything non “passive” that doesn’t resign the female gender to watching movies or shopping consist of generally male based hobbies. Fishing, snooker, pool, arcade, golfing etcetera.. of course I said generally. Most of this stuff is done by my male counterparts.

The strangest thing is that never will you see a woman taking a man and say hang on whilst I play three rounds of snooker. A woman just doesn’t do that to her man!

Nope. Not saying that one is better than the other, after all I caught seven prawns on my first prawning session and my experienced male counterpart, two.

Perhaps going to fishing ponds four days in a row and being the minority, or sometimes the only female will tend to induce baffling thoughts on any chick. In the meanwhile, I recommend prawning. The feeling is quite indescribable.

And if you’re gonna ask the men to wait for five rounds, make sure its not just five rounds around the shopping mall.

yours,
jess

iF i SeE yOu aGaiN, i SwEaR iLL kiLL yOU!!

dear jess,

At 1.30 Tuesday afternoon today, I was about to get into my car on the way to teach at school. The care was parked outside my house. As I was picking off leaves of the car, which I had just washed, admiring it, I see by the side of my eyes and hear the sound of the motorbike with two men skinny, young men on the bike. Reflex tell me to get in the car, which I do and out of paranoia, habit and mostly by Gods grace I lock the car door even before starting the engine.

As I start the car I see in my rear the two idiots on the bike coming back my way, I shift the auto gear into D and once again something in my heart and mind told me to get ready to drive off.

One of the men jumps off his bike, and pulls the door of my passenger seat open. And as if I could see this all happening in slow motion, the only thing between me and my perpetrator was the door of the car, I hear the door click- as it remains lock. I horn, and ram my car. In panic im not sure if my car moves but he runs back on his bike, I drive and turn the car, perhaps subconsciously wanting to drive into them and kill them but in my state of panic I didn’t get a number plate or anything.

They leave, im left shaken, now, three hours later all I really want to do is stay indoors for the next twenty years. Its really scary and I figure they wanted to open the door and grab my bag on the passenger seat, or come in and sit next to me with who knows what intentions.

All I can say is that if I see them again I swear ill drive into them. However since this is the by far the scariest thing that has happened to me, drivers, women and men, regardless please be aware of your surroundings and lock your doors BEFORE you even start the car.

Thank God, who clearly protected me, my ever present help in times of trouble. thank God, thank God, thank God, cant say it enough..

Im gonna go hide under the blanket for a while and pretend that my world is a safe safe place.

yours shaken but safe,

jess

coNfOrM, oR LoOsE yOuR sAniTy. .

dear jess,

On some days, like this one, you lie awake in bed at four, you scream the quiet scream till your jaw hurts and when you finally realize that sleep or any peace of mind will be as far to you as the chances of winning a lottery, you wake up and write a letter hoping that solace will find you.

On some days like this one, you feel so tired. So tired of fighting and justifying and saying you know for sure that the decisions you made in life were the right ones, that the man you chose will never leave you, that the job you wasted your life away for will eventually pay back.

I use to not want to have a child because I would fear that eventually I wouldn’t be able to tell her what to do and that one day she or he will make their own decisions, most likely those that I wont want them too.

And sometimes it would be so much easier to pick the easy choice and live up to expectations of everyone around you. Let them tell you what to do. Almost as if life itself was one whole big arranged marriage.

On days like this, you feel like rolling over, so that by doing that the tears will stop rolling, the confusion will end and in reality no one ever wants to be different. The punks punk their hair because they'd like to think they’re individuals, but of course, only with a group who all have the same punk hair. More so the popular girls at school, the not popular ones and all the odd ones.

Everyone thinks they want to be an individual but only if there were a few others like them.. Being an individual isn’t always being special anymore than what the word already is- being alone.

Woe is the woman who will not fall for the man of her parents dreams, who will not let her friends think for her, who will not let the way she was brought up affect the way she chooses her future, who will let herself be.

Woe is that woman, for she will indeed spend many a sleepless nights and share many silent screams.

yours,
jess

sMeLLs LikE sEptemBer, AgaIn

dear jess,

I have a box with a sarong, four pieces to be exact, a bottle of brylcream, a comb, a small radio, a mirror and a little purse. All belonging to my grandmother. Its been only the second or third time ive opened this box in what is now the last two years..

And the reason ive opened this box so few times is because in a lot of ways I always handle tough times by ignoring they happened. Because everytime I smell that bryclream or let my face feel the sarong’s or look at that comb, more than just my external senses are awaken. In fact, each time I see an old lady that remotely resembles her I hurt inside.


I miss taking her to the movies, where she would talk and laugh at the top of her voice or watch her holler at the nephews and neighbours in crude Portuguese, or write numbers on that paper of hers or even stand in the kitchen for hours and help my mum make chips for Chinese new year, the same old lady with more energy than any young person i know, that will dry her pickles in the sun and remember to write everyone's birthday in her little book. There’s a little bit of her in all of us.

Death in the family can be so painful, but missing someone so much and not being able to do anything except smell brylcream can be worse.

The world population on eleventh january two thousand and six is 6,554,023,161. Six billion people, and sometimes all you need is just one.

yours, and always yours,
jess