tonguetied

2011-11-21T18:08:00.001-08:00

The best faces in this world are the ones that lights up when they talk about their passion. They find reasons to bring up this one and only interest of theirs, be it crafting, stamp collecting or even politics. They can spend hours arguing on it, not because they will get emotions involved, but because it triggers a fire in them to always be better, to always go deeper into said interest.

Because those varieties run the economy, they run this world.

On marriage & equality.

2011-11-14T02:10:00.001-08:00

The first I heard of Malaysia's Obedient Wives Club was when my Journalist friend told me she got back from their first meeting (as an assignment). Then some of my friends grew angry on social network, about the news of this new club. Many were talking about the fact that they said, "We want to teach wives to be more appealing, alluring to their husbands, so that they (husbands) won't stray to prostitutes."

For a while now, I had said nothing. Because I didn't want to say something out of rage.

But today I've decided to publish my opinion.

1. Obedient Wives Club is a sign that Patriarchy is winning in Third World Countries.
Many individual stories about men patronizing women in everyday context, but OWC took the headlines. OWC made it very clear that women choose to adapt to men, than seek pleasure of their own.
It's not the marriage that I am against. I believe in love, I believe in marriage, I believe in being a good person when in relationship. However, the formation of OWC is clearly to"be an obedient wife so the men don't go to prostitutes".

Let's break down that motto

Be an obedient wife: This is already a gender biased sentence. Marriage is a commitment between 2 people.

Anthropologically speaking, and mentioned in a great article 'All the Single Ladies by Kate Bolick' (link), before "love marriages" came about, marriage was about building bridges among two families. Each family have a property/land/income of their own, and would like to expand their businesses and generations. So before Romeo and Juliet fought for love and ran away, marriages was an equal agreement on economic grounds and mutual interests.

Forward to the age of 'love marriages', where "two people in love" is always the big headline of the wedding day, therefore that same headline must be brought to the marriage, yes? That means, whatever decisions in marriage, must be a compromise or a middle ground. Both have a say.
That 'obedient wife' phrase just blew equality to the ground. If a wife must be obedient, then husbands should be too. That means, if their wives are obedient, and have vowed to be obedient, the husbands must also take on the title of being 'the obedient husband'. Now that's equality.

So men don't go to prostitutes - feminism fights for equality and human rights. Some women may or may not choose to go into prostitution. But that is their right. You may disagree and say, their profession is disrespectful, but it is their right to be in that profession. Just like how people choose to be Doctors, or Lawyers.

By saying that 2nd motto above, OWC not only creates a clear distinction between 'Wives' and 'The Other Woman (Prostitutes)' but subconsciously fights their own gender. Its women versus women here. The only difference is that one is married to the man, the other is not.
How are we going to achieve equality if we're fighting amongst ourselves? How are we going to fight patriarchy, if we're still creating class and distinction among women?

2. On polygamy.
Having a stand against or for polygamy is human rights. But personally, in the context of equality, if men are allowed to do one thing, women should too.

So, if men are allowed to have 4 wives, women should be allowed to have 4 husbands. And that is the answer I'm going to give, if God forbid, my future husband asks me what would I think if he were to take up another wife,

"Okay, so you want another wife? I'll say yes. But that means I can marry another man."

The other issue on polygamy is that, they said, men who are polygamous must be fair towards all 4 women.

Women are capable of being polygamous too. Women are able to divide their attention to all their children and husband. Women are able to juggle careers and their family. When women generate income, it would be for a family.

As said in this article, (link) written by Soraya Chemaly, (backed by UN reports) Women perform 66% of the world's work, produce 50% of its food, earn a whooping 10% of its income & own 1% of the World's property.

I'm not saying all women must refrain from relationships and marriages, I'm just saying as a woman, what do you think about the facts above? Are you content with the inequality?

Women, for generations, have been raised to fit societal roles of a mother and a wife. It's time to take on another, as a powerful individual.

addressing floating issues

2011-11-05T23:16:00.000-07:00

I'm walking on the line towards one passion, and if you know me well, you know it's gender issues. But this isn't a post explaining how much I love it, and who Gloria Steinem is, it's about the little things I come across in my life that strengthens my belief that I'm on the right path.

I haven't come across a harsh discrimination in my life, however, a discrimination is still a discrimination. Sadly, when it comes to discrimination, some people don't know (subconsciously) it's something offensive. Collective images and lessons that we have learned in our lives, make us who we are today. And human beings are far from neutral, always leaning a little to one side.

It's the gender-stereotype slurs that I see everyday on my Facebook news feed. Posting funny pictures or jokes that drive towards gender inequality, getting 'Like' on that post, just because YOU think it has some truth to it.

It's the observation of women (including myself) towards men. And as a young girl, consuming hours of glossy magazines & now websites, my experience in gender issues lie in girl talks I have with fellow female peers.

So this is what ticks me off the most, this is what drives me to gender issue, and develop a stronger feeling towards being a women's activist.

1. It's the dependence.

You should really get your mental health checked if you think your only happiness and pleasure comes from one person; your boyfriend.

You're happy not because of ONE person, yes okay he might have made you laugh during breakfast lunch dinner, but your friends make pretty good jokes too! How about your mother? Or your father? They try to make jokes, too right? Lame but it's still a joke to them! When you discover old photos about your parents, didn't that make you laugh? Or when you watched that stand up comedian on Youtube? I bet he made you ROFL to the ground!

Also, think about your first 10 years. Your first laugh, your first joke, your first comic book. WAS YOUR BOYFRIEND THERE?

WAS YOUR BOYFRIEND RESPONSIBLE FOR ALL OF THE THINGS THAT MADE YOU FEEL ENTERTAINED FOR THE FIRST 20 YEARS OF YOUR LIFE?

If he is, accurately for all btw, then good for you!

2. Getting a boyfriend, is always the easy way out.

I see people posting, 'I AM HAPPY' and the next they're like 'Life would be so much happier if I had a boyfriend.'

(IT IS DIFFERENT: if you post 'I AM HAPPY' but the next would be 'I AM EMO' cause that would just mean you're happy but you're sad the next, but you didn't state that YOU NEED SOMEONE TO LIFT THAT EMO-NESS)

It is not the easy way out, BY THE WAY. IT IS DOUBLE THE WORK.

Let's say, you're at your critical stage of University, and you feel a little lonely just cause you've got more free time. Getting a boyfriend will just make it more stressful. Imagine having to plan a week of hibernation to speed up your Uni work, but because you have a boyfriend you're gonna have to play the 'housewife' or the 'good girlfriend' even though he HAS NEVER asked you to play that role, but by motherly instinct you do. Your work gets put aside, you waste one week trying to make someone else happy. OK you may have made him say, "AWW" or smile or laugh, but he'll probably laugh harder seeing someone slip and fall because of a banana peel.

I understand if you know you're ready for a commitment and you state yourself, yes I am ready. Or other contributing factors. But if you don't really need someone, and if you're not ready, why would you burden yourself with one, that MIGHT lead to a bitter end anyway?

But if you really insist you're really THAT LONELY, and you have this loving character that needs to always care for someone, call them constantly, and feel the love back? Get a baby.

_______

I am human. I am prone to feelings I have said above and will no doubt ever deny that I have succumbed, and sometimes snap myself out of it only to find myself tempted to say, "Damn, I wish there was a guy that could help me move my boxes to my new house."

And these things I have said above, are not always entirely accurate to everyone I have come across. I have no hate for people who own behaviours above, and I don't suggest everybody to say no to relationships. Sure, it is nice to have someone to depend on. Some people want that.

But you came into this life alone, and many things can happen to you or that person you love, and if you rely all your purpose in life for that one person but God takes his/her life earlier than yours, then how would you live the rest of your age?

I'm growing passion for feminism, not because I hate men, or I want to be angry and attack stereotypes I come across in my life.

I just want women to be more powerful, in control of their lives, and that they have other choices too.

about being barefoot

2011-11-05T04:04:00.000-07:00

"Wear your slippers!" I shook my head again and again. That was mostly one of the lines Dad used to say to me as a child, and today, he said it again.

I know he means well; the floor is dirty. But I like being barefoot. At any occasion I choose to take off my shoes and feel the ground - on the plane, in class, in the jungle, at the beach - I trust gravity more when I'm barefoot, having shoes feels like another whole load of sleeping bag to carry.

Before you go and box me as a hippie, I want to ask, which do you prefer? If you like being barefoot, read on, if you don't want to be convinced, then close the tab, because I'm sharing one perspective that is mine.

Conquering new lands on your bare feet feels much different than on a thick sole of winter boots. You know the cold, feel the moist and smell it almost instantly, like getting to know a braille alphabet and sinking into life's creation.

I put my bare feet out for a short stroll at the Anse Vata beach in Noumea, where I am currently residing. I feel the texture of the sand, and clear waters washing golden shells. As I step up to find my slippers near the pavement, I had to feel the grass where the palm trees were shading. The grass is cut short, dry, filled with washed sea shells and fallen autumn nuts. I walk to the shower area, my feet still feeling each curve of the soil, vulnerable to natural thorns and bodies of deceased insects.

As I wash the chunk of sands away, I examine my feet closer.

These feet have traveled to countable beaches, wore different made shoes, stepped on Asian, European & Pacific continents, and most of all, these feet still prance to joy whenever I get the chance to go barefoot in public.

Life lessons #17383575

2011-10-27T22:14:00.000-07:00

1. Everybody comes into your life for a reason. It may not be for "love" reasons, it may not be for reasons you want them to. But they come into your life anyway, and with all the chaotic emotions, you are constantly asking yourself how did they manage to get through that door. How did you let them make a difference in your life?

You may not find the answer today, you might find it three years later when you stumble across old photos. Or when you're a confused 21-year old, trying to find her place in the world and the words you utter are the ones someone from your past have once told you.

Oh the cliche.

This is obviously inspired by talks with friends who've recently broke up, or and the overwhelming rants on my Twitter timeline. Of course, I still give myself time to sulk over loss. But do you really want to spend the next few months of your life crying over something that did not happen, or try to make way for new opportunities to happen?

_________________________________________________________________________

2. I sat down with my mother and Valentina Sagala the other day, and we came to a discussion topic about identity.

Being a third culture kid, answering the 'Who Am I?' question might be heavier than most who aren't. We are so used to fixed social identities in elements of: gender, citizenship, culture, religion etc. But when one box is a blur, you might have difficulties getting to know yourself as a whole.

(Aunt/Kak) Valentina told me that in the military, the first test you have to go through is the Identity test. Who am I? If you can't answer that, you will not go through the next and eventually become a part of the army.

I'm not going to enter the military, however, I'm at the first year of my twenty-something and looking for that one focused interest, but I seem to want to dip my feet in multiple interests.

But these are the perfect years to be bi-experimental right?

I'm not in a rush to define myself, everybody's constantly changing anyway.

____________________________________________________________________________

To all the Indonesian Diplomat Kids

2011-10-22T00:21:00.000-07:00

All the Indonesian Diplomat kids (whose parents work for the Department of Foreign Affairs) I met have one thing in common: getting bullied for speaking English as their first (or preferred) language.

You can't blame us for being dragged around the world at such a young age, and put into International Schools just because it's probably more challenging to learn a whole new obsecure foreign language. Most International Schools have similar curriculum, hence easier for us to adapt and transfer credits.

It's funny how the stories have the same outline: got back from foreign country, parents registered us in local/private school, and while we're adjusting to switching back language, our peers feel offended and decide to bully us for it. Not just the light teasing, "Why are you speaking English?", some made a big fuss about it, "She spoke English, what a SHOW OFF!"

Even as a victim at 12 years old, I never understood why they bullied us for it. It's just language? If I spoke in Javanese, or Icelandic, would they still bully me for it? Besides, English is a universal language and even taught in schools.

As we grew up, saw the multiculturalism growing in Indonesia and more pop cultures were adapted, we also observed a funny trend; our school bullies speaking, tweeting, facebooking in English.

And the Indonesian Diplomat kids that were aliens? Well, we indulge in pleasure whenever you try to speak to us in the language you once bullied us for.

What goes around, comes around eh?

first impressions, forever impressions

2011-10-22T00:13:00.000-07:00

A while back I had a meal with an acquaintance, someone I have always seemed close for years but never got to know personally. We exchanged conversation topics and finally saw each other as two individuals. I mentioned about my interest in anthropology, or sociology, or some sort as a possible future career field, and he frowned. As I asked him how his studies were going, he answered and ended, "But reading isn't your thing right?"

I felt offended, my ego heightened. I raised an eyebrow, "What do you mean I don't like to read?" It also didn't help that it's 2011 and I've only picked up 'Rich Dad, Poor Dad'.

I took a deep breath. It wasn't his fault. He was always in a fragment of my life where I mask my personality with a lightweight attitude; in short, social gatherings. Most of the time I don't try to pick up a topic of my choice to acquaintances, talking about mutual friends seem like a safer choice. I'd rather have them not listen to that The New Inquiry article I just read - I'd rather tweet, blog or Facebook about it.

Mostly I'm just angry at the mask I have decided on myself. A number of people 'Like' my Facebook status that said I'm a month off partying - some commented 'Impossible', while some were supportive which just confirms my identity of a girl who's strictly up for partying.

Yes I do love to go out and dance.Most of my acquaintances go out, and I'm blessed enough to be able to tag along. I love parties, and being 4 Fridays clean, the need to go out just grows.

But that's a fragment of my life.For the most part I'm a girl who consumes articles, essays and books. I'm following 400 people on Twitter, but I need it mostly for the newest information on all my interests.

I became defensive about the image and continued to justify myself, which turned into a big mess. I had nothing in my pocket but being able to finish my Bachelor's thesis on time - on the topic of gender and as thick as an encyclopedia. I wanted to prove a point. I wanted to fight an impression that has stuck with me for years in the eyes of acquaintances.

But then again, it isn't their fault.

I love to party, I love to be the camera owner of the night because I want pictures of myself, my friends, and that I have the first (sometimes the only) say in how the night would be remembered. But that's just a fragment of my life.

Most of the time, I'm a third culture kid who struggles with settling, identifies with anthropology, feminism, pop culture and social media through writing. So don't you ever, ever, tell me I'm not capable of doing research. Don't you ever, ever, ever, tell me I am not familiar with reading or writing.

Call me fat, call me ugly, call me a bitch.

But don't ever call me stupid.

21 in 12.

2011-10-18T11:19:00.000-07:00

I wrote this 12 days before I turned 21 a while back on a private platform, hence the title: 21 in 12.

#birthdaywishlist sister, mummy’s comforting smell in the morning, daddy’s crazy dance to Lady Gaga’s Alejandro, time machine, Lightsaber, a voucher to the plastic surgeon, a house full of dusty Philosophy and Literature books, a tub of belgian chocolate ice cream, a poet’s handwritten journal, golden beach sands in a bottle, a vintage wedding ring, Ariel (of the Little Mermaid) voice box, french speaking pair of lips, anything in silk.

21 in 12 days, and a rush of life settles uncomfortably on my shoulder. People tell me, they’ve been through it before, the heavy reality that 21 symbolizes that teenagehood ended over a year ago, and flashbacks will come haunting.

I’m taking my Paolo Nutini record for a run - and I only do, in moments of heartaches. But I feel that, this time, the lyrics are appropriate to the age of my existence.

I envisioned myself to be a in different version - definitely in much better exterior and knowledgeable mind. What did I end up with? 15kg overweight, an average passion towards academics and several life lessons - nothing special.

I’ve always talked about being afraid to drown in the city commotion, but I already have. The paths I’m building will lead me there - there is absolutely nothing special about me in comparison to the 6 billion people in this world. I’m just a tiny unit stepping on vulnerable ground, and soon I will fade into earth, just like humans are destined to be.

What is the point of all this? What is the point of living when we all die in the end?

What is the point of paying hundreds for gym membership, for University, for health (when we all are going to deteriorate anyway), for therapy, for beauty, for nightlife, for music, for movies, for a luxury car (that will look the same as a cheap one, if you run a bulldozer over it), for worldly unnecessaries?

I feel logic slipping away, my body still running, but my soul has escalated into the past.

21, one way ticket to adulthood.

something personal

2011-10-18T11:15:00.000-07:00

It's an hour into Wednesday and I've yet to obey my 12 o'clock bedtime (I swear it only happens when I'm living under my parents' roof).

I'm homesick. So far away from all the things I believe in, so far from the things I'm a slave to. I hear things - from the social media accessibility, but I can't touch. I can't change, I can't shift, I can't feel - I can only observe. I'm a prisoner of my own choice, perhaps, I should look at this differently.

Friends tell me, they would much rather be in my shoes. Few months off life after graduation, in Pacific Islands, doing nothing but pursuing things that I want for betterment of my soul. But I did not want to take a break, I insist on being in a rush to grow up, because a few months off would mean blowing away an opportunity that could have been mine. That could have probably, made me a complete human being.

There it is again, the idealistic in me prances around, riding each path I consider, creating disappointments in illusions.

I read a philosophy book late last year, which said; You need friends to always reconfirm your identity.

I am going to be without friends for the next few months, therefore I can be whoever. I can re-invent myself. And when I decide I like the change, I'm going to come back home with a fresh point of view. Perhaps, one that fits a growing 21-year old?

There it is again. Idealistic thought, tsk tsk tsk.

Thoughts on Gloria's article & The Playboy Club

2011-10-15T09:39:00.000-07:00

Saturday night reading Gloria Steinem's 1963 undercover piece 'I was a Playboy Bunny', which you can find here:

http://www.gloriasteinem.com/storage/I%20Was%20a%20Playboy%20Bunny.pdf

It isn't the free will of the working girl I am against. The existence of this sexual industry makes it seem okay (and supportive) for men to degrade women. Whether sexual favours are being exchanged or not (the rules at the Playboy Club as read on 'I Was a Playboy Bunny' said no sexual relationship unless etc etc), it is still a place where men and women are not equal.

That would be the first problem.

Men come as visitors, guests, which mean they have to be served. Women, dressed in the shortest most seducing outfits as possible, "serve" their male guests.

Men are rewarded for their dominance in the real world, this showed in the Club's system of Membership Key and further on, Number One Key holders. Again, this is a clear reality that men are celebrated for their power.

Though packaged in a pretty big bow, the birth of 'The Playboy Club' as a TV series (2011) would support the humanization of gender inequality in a form of entertainment. Being the flawed human that I am, I gaze upon the beautiful costumes on TV when it's Pilot aired. I internalized the images, most of all I love the cinematography and wish it would stay for a while instead of those distasteful Reality TV shots.

But having to watch 'The Playboy Club' every week would mean I root for "working women". It would mean that perhaps, by the end of the season, disillusioned by Hollywood's pretty cinematography, I'd be okay with it as a part of TV history.

"Messy hair, bad hair & bad makeup cost five demerits each". As said in Miss Representation, take apart knowledge, women will always be judged by their looks. And we are brought up to achieve all those in addition to good looks as the finishing polish.Not going to complain, I personally love dolling up, but to put looks as a work pressure (in this case a punishment) instead of a personal grooming choice?

Anyway, this brings me to today's world. Strippers and prostitutes. Same difference. I know, I know, prostitutes engage in sexual activities, strippers do not, but what's the difference if the male dominance is asserted and gender inequality is practiced?

I'd like to ask one thing though. As an admirer of beautiful women myself, what would be the alternative?

I stumbled on an interesting article on Jezebel, which tackled myths about sex and gender. Click here:
http://jezebel.com/5849842/six-myths-about-sex-and-gender-busted?tag=gender

Current Read

2011-10-15T00:39:00.000-07:00

Read R.Valentina's Pelacur vs His First Lady on the cab ride back to town. The writer is one of my mother's dearest friend, and a recent role model of mine.

Had some interesting points:

- On women being forced to please their husbands, JUST SO they will not run to prostitutes to fulfill their sexual needs.
- Prostitutes are seen as 'renting' out their body for the purpose of their work.
- The connotation of prostitution is worse than women who decided that the noble thing is to get married and enslave their body to one man. (This only happens when he man abuses his wife for sexual favours, in the threat of leaving/cheating/etc)

I certainly still walk on that line where I ask myself, "is prostitution bad?" Yes the connotation is near to disgust - related to poverty. However, some might say it's sexual freedom for women - they choose to become prostitutes and at the end of the day, the choice is in their hands.

I also thought about how sex is a common thing in today's world. Meanwhile prostitutes get money, how about the average jane that jumps from one man to another before she gets married? Isn't that just pure disadvantage for the average Jane to sleep with her current partner (boyfriend/fling/etc) without being paid?

One of the points I have to agree with in this book is:

- Patriarchal society has introduced class amongst women; you are either his FIRST lady (ownership) or a prostitute, the one satisfying his sexual needs with no commitments. And instead of being a strong united front against patriarchy, women enjoy calling another woman a whore when they are in position of ownership (FIRST lady).

Again, I haven't given much thought to it, but it definitely woke my mind from a long sleep.

Article Link: 'All the Single Ladies' by Kate Bolick on The Atlantic

2011-10-13T05:49:00.000-07:00

"One of the many ways in which our lives differed from our mothers’ was in the variety of our interactions with the opposite sex. Men were our classmates and colleagues, our bosses and professors, as well as, in time, our students and employees and subordinates—an entire universe of prospective friends, boyfriends, friends with benefits, and even ex-boyfriends-turned-friends. In this brave new world, boundaries were fluid, and roles constantly changing."

"If dating and mating is in fact a marketplace—and of course it is—today we’re contending with a new “dating gap,” where marriage-minded women are increasingly confronted with either deadbeats or players."

"It was in our personal and collective best interest that the marriage remain intact if we wanted to keep the farm afloat.

That said, being too emotionally attached to one’s spouse was discouraged; neighbors, family, and friends were valued just as highly in terms of practical and emotional support. Even servants and apprentices shared the family table, and sometimes slept in the same room with the couple who headed the household, Coontz notes. Until the mid-19th century, the word love was used to describe neighborly and familial feelings more often than to describe those felt toward a mate, and same-sex friendships were conducted with what we moderns would consider a romantic intensity. When honeymoons first started, in the 19th century, the newlyweds brought friends and family along for the fun.

But as the 19th century progressed, and especially with the sexualization of marriage in the early 20th century, these older social ties were drastically devalued in order to strengthen the bond between the husband and wife—with contradictory results."

Read the article here:
http://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2011/11/bolick/8654/?single_page=true

From the Pages of my Thesis #1

2011-10-13T01:48:00.000-07:00

My holiday has forced me to watch television, and think, think, think.

"The media acts as platform that contains everything acceptable and reprimanded in society. Subconsciously the impact is bigger than we can imagine.

We process information only to realize that later our impulses are derived from the images we were exposed to. We often take media as a reliable source, for it is constantly feeding us with overwhelming amount of information. Spending a whole day accompanied by fictional characters initially created to entertain without asking questions about gender representation, may lead to subconscious acceptance of these stereotypes.

Fictional or reality, the selective people portrayed in the media will act as a representation. If the media is our only window to a certain place, therefore our assumptions will be limited to the information included.

With the variety of gatekeepers and content providers in the mass media, it its therefore agreeable that with broadcast comes critique.
The many perspectives of individuals in this world pressure the media to think 3-Dimensional and idealistically fair to all gender, races, age and religion."

(Taken from my personal Bachelors Thesis)

Let's talk about size.

2011-10-12T23:38:00.000-07:00

My current weight is, well, devastatingly enough to put me down on dressy occassions.

The solution? To fit into generic sizes at generic mass produced stores. It's such a fascinating reality actually, think about it!

Mass produced brands need to generalize their clothes based on general sizes of the population. For example, weight range 50 will fit an S, and so forth. They probably do not have underlying messages or conspiracies to these sizes, they just need to generalize to mass produce.

The societal pressure exist in reality, after it is manufactured and displayed. With contributing factors from the media and visual images, people tend to cringe when they go up to a size L from previously wearing a size S. They feel a defeat when they used to wear size 27 jeans, and have to settle for size 29. They reminisce on the days they used to fit into skinny jeans and do things about it.

People live for clothes, and forgot the basic purpose of clothes was to cover the naked skin and complement the figure. Somehow, the roles reversed and now human need to look good for the clothes they're wearing.

I am, of course, guilty of subscribing to this social construct. I hide away the size of my clothes, prefer to shop alone because asking for an L size would be such a heavy duty when my friends are always on the Medium range. I cringe when my friends complain about going for size 6 when they used to be a size 8, I want to squeeze them like lemons and say, pack another 10 and I'll take those home.

Many people tell me it isn't the clothes that will wear the person, but the attitude, specifically confidence. But if my arms are the size of KL Tower and I'm standing next to skinny Minnie, that will draw comparison.

Being thin isn't the long term solution, but right now it seems like something I haven't accomplished before so I'm curious to know how I would feel with less weight to carry on my unstable knees. Perhaps I will breathe easier, and walk faster.

My Confession

2011-10-12T23:37:00.000-07:00

I am insensitive to injustice. Especially gender injustice.

I claim to be a fighter for women’s rights and proudly present my Bachelor’s Thesis in the topic of gender, but when it came to media, I consume to the commercialization of sexuality.

I read something recently that said, "injustice can only be understood when it is (bodily, emotionally) experienced."

I may have experienced those that aroused rage in my system, but without the knowledge of feminism and gender oppression, I will not be able to identify them as sexist remarks. Same goes to racism, and any form of discrimination.

My father once told me, justice does not exist in this world – that’s what the after life is for. It made sense for a second, and I could go on with my life ignorant, until I experience injustice. But it seems like the view of a defeatist.

So how do we fight against gender oppression? How do we fight against racism? How do we prevent poverty?

Re-Introduction?

2011-10-12T23:33:00.000-07:00

I’ve had many blogs before this, but at 21,
I have decided it is the right age to create one solid platform for my thoughts, and opinions.
All the platforms I had before this, progressing from my journal at a young 12 to Friendster blog has been one jumpy ride to hide my identity from unwanted people that might criticize my opinions.

But I’m sure I’m adult enough to handle different perspectives.

This brief introduction isn’t to state my interchanging human identity, but to justify that this shall be the one domain where I will be expressing my inner thoughts and hopefully, along the way, improve my writing skills.

If you don’t know me yet, my name is Tisa Hanifa. I prefer friends calling me Fafa, while on formal occasions I’d like older acquaintances to call me Tisa. I’m 21, a fresh graduate from Bachelors of Communications (Media Studies major) and a few work experiences here and there.

I’m not plenty, but I’m constantly falling into potholes, and I spring back up again before I drown myself in sorrow.

I don't have the answers, but I want you to think with me like two friends having coffee on a summer day.

sleep

2011-01-09T08:11:00.000-08:00

whenever there's a space in time, day or night,
I'd dream.
one of the best part about sleeping, is you get to wake up the next day to eggs,
the other best best part about sleeping is,
like going for a ride in a foreign dimension.
as soon as you close your eyes, its like sitting on a rollercoaster,
you don't know who you're gonna be or what you're gonna go through tonight.
you don't have a choice, and sometimes you do but you're completely powerless.
i can be whoever i want to be without interference of free will,
just for a few hours i get to screw up,
and still be emotionally intact when i open my eyes.

I think I made you up in my head.

2011-01-08T04:10:00.000-08:00

I can narrate you the events of previous night,
but I can assure you, its clouded by emotions.
I get tonguetied,
because I need a pause, to separate facts from feelings,
therefore sometimes,
the call to best friends the night after,
is usually long and it spans over hours.
Because I'd have to repeat, re-crystalize,
what's real and what's in my head.

On some days, and someone asks me, "So what happened between you and X?"
If this was a story dated more than one year ago,
I'm gonna have to stop you, because more often,
I tend to forget whether I made it up in my head,
or it really happened.

7, is your favourite number right?

2011-01-07T12:47:00.000-08:00

first post of the year,
and I'm writing to you about waiting,
as of recent, seems like I'm always assuring myself
that one day I will have it all
and I will be able to brag about it to my reflection.

tonight I listened, to the body language that are masked in between the lines,
although crowded like ant nest, but as you stop to breathe,
you see clear people are holding hands on one, drink on the other,
eyes, empty, far distance and very distracted to little nudges.
what lies behind these flashing colours?
can I tell you what's underneath mine?
an imaginary heartache and rejection of beliefs - the belief that there exist "signs" or fate.
people make of their paths, fate is just a coincidence because your paths are crossing.
so can you tell me yours? why your gaze is like a tinge of sadness but your smile so wide?

but I'm not gonna over analyze why people were looking far off
to the back of the door, instead of the person in front of them,
maybe they were looking for something; a friend, a familiar face?
all I know was that today, it slipped my mind to close my eyes on the dancefloor and forget about you.

but you see the thing about trying to forget about someone,
is that you're gonna have to think of them in the process of memory suppression.

what are you doing for new years eve?

2010-12-29T21:40:00.000-08:00

"Hi, what are you doing for new years eve?"

I think there's always a lot of pressure for new years eve plans,
the one night where it's supposed to be symbolic to the next 365 days.
who do you want to spend it with?
what do you want to do?
to be honesy, I can't picture myself in anything but a long black dress,
sitting on the front porch of my rented apartment alone,
watching the fireworks eject into the sky like it's rat race.
I missed the fireworks last year, I was too distracted to notice that the new beginning has dawned.
How do I tell people that the only thing I seem sure of this new year's eve
is the wish to eject myself from society?
That for two hours - last hour of '10, and first hour of '11, I want to spend it with me,
thinking about everything I have gone through in the past 20 years,
regrets and prides
and maybe if I can, find a new wishful thinking?

So I write, this wish to be alone, in the most public form possible.

my year in faces.

2010-12-28T21:33:00.000-08:00

(I'm just looking for reasons to look at my face over and over again on this page)

January

- started my year with awkward bangs. I thought to myself, if I can't be beautiful, I will be bold.

- Celebrated three birthdays in one night, a day after New Years Eve madness.

- Scored last minute Yeah Yeah Yeahs concert tickets in Singapore just a week before the date, booked bus tickets and hotels, and just left KL to see the best act in my 2010 so far.

- Organised my first music event, IN TRANSIT 1.0 at Cloth & Clef, Changkat

February

- Beginning of our Artista Bar and Restaurant days - sang for the first time on stage - NERVE WRECKING.

March

-Organised our second IN TRANSIT 1.6 at the same venue, this time I was photographer, jumped/climbed up and down getting photos of the bands.

- Trina's birthday - the cutest afternoonsy lunch birthday!

- Media for STYLO Fashion Week 2010

April

- Went for my very first wedding of a friend; beautiful gushing fashion blogger Ami! The wedding was quaint, and in her hometown.

- A friend gave me the best opportunity, and I ended up acting for The Platform, KLPAC

May

- Glowing tan from Langkawi trip and a short week seeing parents, then it was Alanna's birthday.

- first all-girls beach trip; soaked up the sun more than i have ever did.

June

- Grew closer to the winners of the first Talent Experiment, and sang a song on stage again - NERVE WRECKING PART 2.

- another round of Urbanscapes!

July

- Alanna's sister's wedding at the house - beautifully grand.

- barely surviving.

- One of the group outings at the zoo!

August

- Went to Jakarta to spend the fasting month with parents, a sabbatical well needed.

September

- Hatyai, Thailand for shopping.

- Drove 4 hours to see Alanna in Penang just for a 24 hour getaway & bunked in Hard Rock Hotel where our pool was just three steps from the sliding window door.

October

- Media for RUNWAY 101; a fashion event organised by fellow collegemates

- first housemate birthday

November

- Started hanging out with old school friends again - familiarity trumps new things.

- Helped out One Night Service (the band) to get to where they want to be, though it's still on the way, we're progressing more than imagined.

December

- fairy lights.

- Bali Trip, to end the offbeat year.

To end:

my year, in emotions.

2010-12-26T22:29:00.000-08:00

let's set the mood, shall we?
it's day, on the fifth floor, I'm facing the balcony,
and just outside is the monsoon gloom of the Kuala Lumpur horizon.
how about a tune, G6? that song has been playing in clubs non-stop,
or more appropriately, since I just got back, the Bali anthem,
Edward Maya's Stereo Love or Duck Sauce's Barbara Streisand?
okay, let's forget the tune, and get back on track.

I started the year with no sleep,
not the I-partied-too-much kind of no sleep,
but the one drenched in tears, due to (what else) heartache.
I was never able to pull all nighters - maybe I never tried,
maybe because enormous chugs of coffee do not have an influence on my determination on sleeping 8 hours a day,
but for the first half of the year, I never had a good enough rest.

I don't really like to discuss personal matters in details,
but with Facebook, everything unfolds in matter of time.
So my general recap, from my point of view, is here.

The first half of the year was my worst,
I was looking forward to my fashion editorial internship
and begged God that it will be the only thing that stresses me out on a daily basis.
but I was juggling roles, and at times I broke down in the office in the middle of daylight.
I may have mentioned but, having an internship at Tongue in Chic to me, meant a huge deal.
I told myself not to screw it up, not the writing, not the attitude, not the vulnerability,
but life wasn't on my good side at the time, sometimes it overlaps.
Thank God I met the best Managing Editor & Editorial Assistant & others at the office who genuinely cares about my well being.
I can say the best thing that happened to me for the first half of '10 was really, my job and the rest of Freeform office employees who I've grown to love.

Other than that, it was my downfall.
I was recovering from a heartache,
which I now think, partially was a bruised ego on my part and my inability to accept defeat.
to add salt, something happened behind closed doors,
something I suspected, but shrugged off.

I believe people when they tell you, trust your instincts.
of course I have mistaken it for paranoia, but sometimes, you're not at fault.
sometimes people,other than yourself, do not care for you enough, to listen to your rants.
they dismiss it off as paranoia, and YOU begin to think so.
but instincts are instincts, and you cannot consult them with anybody but yourself.

karma slapped me hard in the face,
then the little bad things trailed along with it.
I didn't give up, I still had hope,
and the first thing I did when I heard karma was just right upstairs,
I gave a call to the person that had to suffer my own selfish decisions two years back.
I called him, told him the whole story, laughed a little and said "So, I guess now we're even huh?"
We talked for a while, and for a while I thought I was fine.
I can let it go, though it just happened 24 hours ago.

That seemed like the end of it,
but with this blog online, people (on my circle) started caring
and started talking to me about it.
They probably want to know what was going on in my head,
since I always look happy and I still hung around the same circle,
like nothing happened.
There were a lot of drama that summer, overlapping 'things', friendships, lovers,
people began to take sides (subtly of course)
and my mistake was to ignore the thread we were hanging onto,
my biggest mistake was to forget that I'm human,
I get hurt, and I need time to recuperate all this
and get back into society.
Instead I suppress, put on a Bree Van De Kamp smile and spend my days like nothing ever happened.

The peak of it all was when somebody posed as Angel Sataanic on Facebook,
a fake profile with a scary photo, but anyway,
this person sent private messages to people in the social circle,
inserting his/her opinions and writing all the things that has been happening.
I'm not gonna say I hate the message he/she sent me, it was the nicest of the bunch,
but what ticked me off the most was that, it was there, written.
I was trying to cope with the problems, and suddenly it appears in writing,
it was kind of like a bad reminder.

I don't think they have noticed it, but I kept my distance for a while,
it helped that I still had Uni to focus on.
My younger sister left to Canada,
she was always my sanity, the person who keeps telling me,
that "some things that society spins off as a big deal,
is never really a big deal,
go read the news, those are important things in life."
and parents got posted even further, in New Caledonia,
they saw me cry, back in our Jakarta home, and I tell them its nothing, it's just a boy,
but it's not. Its friendships, its everything about my self esteem I forget to deal with,
and now its knocking on my front door.

after a month of sabbatical to be with the family, I came back to Kuala Lumpur with a lot of doubts.
Most of them, asking myself whether I can stand on my own without my sister and my parents.
Sure I have friends, but with all the crap I went through on the first half, I didn't know whether I can trust again.

the second half of the year got a little better,
my friendships grew and I stopped fabricating happiness,
God rewarded me with little things that made me happy.
a completed check list, but not without pain.
I fell in love with an idea, for a year and a half.
He was my best bet, my safety school, most of all; now that I'm alone,
I see clear why I have to fake it to make it, with this one.
But early this year I already rejected somebody I thought I can hold dear,
by telling him, I don't deserve a MAYBE.
and so I tell this one too.

The thing about going through so much,
and when you look at the calendar,
it's only November,
is that you stopped being depressed, you just can't cry as much anymore,
and you start seeing the good of being civilized with people.

I can stomp and scream, yelling, "Fuck you!" to everybody's who's stepped on my shoes,
but that's no use,
because in a month I'll get a new pair of pumps,
and then loses the bad memory, by choice.
So I kept my friendships, because I ask myself again, in five years, will all these matter?
It'll be a good life lesson that I'd like to discuss with the same people.
Friendships, sometimes, are like sisterhood,
we say things, we do bad things to each other, but in the end we forgive
because right now, I don't see why I should still be angry of what my sister did 10 years ago.
I still get pity here and there, but that's fine,
it just means, that there are people who care,
and a little speck of light, saying that there are people out there to trust.
If the 700 people on my Friends list don't fit,
then I won't wait up, and I'll go get my own happy ending.

I'm not sure how to end this post without sounding like an idiot for I have poured my heart out in 1000 words to complete strangers, but I'm gonna go for the classic,

so here's to a good year, 2011.

that little holiday trip.

2010-12-18T23:57:00.000-08:00

waiting two months for a trip, was nerve wrecking,
first there was the excitement, then the boredom, then the lack of enthusiasm,
and days before the due date, cramming errands as if it was a 30 day getaway.

three days, with a crowd of ten,
not a single dull moment in sight.
my body was relaxed, as soon as I smelled the humidity of the beach sand after the rain,
and my eyes followed the tide as it gets higher reaching the edge of my toe,
i knew this was going to be a good december getaway.
i didn't do any thinking, there was no lull made for contemplating about the past.
so just like any other, i attempted to recreate the beach life by packing imitations
of carefree spirit through the wardrobe that contains nothing but glitter perfect for a city night out.
turns out i ran out of care, and internalized thoughts and words I'd like to achieve,
i needed the beach to remind me that I should never reject,
instead breathe in, and live.
walk as much as you'd like, wear as little as you want,
talk as much as you need to get by, to survive, to learn new dimensions of perspective.
under hallucinogen of lights, i pushed myself to a downward spiral,
but no more, I'm too happy to be sad.
I'm too appreciative of right now, that I'd like to put '10 behind.
I laughed, more than I have ever, in twenty years.
I smiled, more than I have ever in the city,
it was like challenging manic lows, and always successfully batting it down like that game of crocodile in the arcade.

maybe I'm still under that spell, that bohemian delusion.

goodbye.

2010-12-10T16:52:00.001-08:00

I wanted to copy off a timeline, when it posted, "Where's the good in goodbye?".
In between cramming for finals, I had to choose a song that shoots right to the heart.
"Love is so short, forgetting lasts so long." in my notes, quote by Pablo Neruda.
I shouldn't have lingered it in my head for this long,
I knew what I was getting into, I knew at the back of my head, that it won't probably work, now.
But I followed my natural instinct - my curiosity and, honestly, I'm a typical warrior,
I stay stay stay, because I have hope, that in the end I will win it all.

But maybe some things aren't meant to be chased,
for the wellness of your well being.
I can preach about independence, about being alone,
but when it comes to you, say the word and I'll come running.

1.5 years, of falling in love with the idea of you.
it's time to say goodbye.

100 Words Project (37)

2010-12-05T12:59:00.000-08:00

my paper prediction said i should start the week spectacular
the rest will be a breeze
maybe they're talking about the calm after the rain
a drive, the open windows whispering the morning tranquility,
I play my little happy tunes, a comatose bliss tingling in my imaginary broken heart,
sedated right to my fingertips, my eye sight slowly numbing
all i can see is vignette sparkles of red, yellow and green,
i touch my lips, chapped
i sing, bleeding dry
i get home, and i lay under fairy lights.

tell me, why did I ever kick this habit again?
i should double up doses.

I'm just as foolish.

2010-12-04T05:40:00.000-08:00

Let's just stop and think, before I lose face
Surely I can't fall, into a game of chase
Around his little finger, that boy has got me curled
I try to reach out, but he's in his own world
This boy's got my head tied in knots with all his games
I simply want him more because he looks the other way

Why can't you want me like the other boys do?
They stare at me while I stare at you
Why can't I keep you safe as my own?
One moment I have you the next you are gone.
(Flight Facilities feat Gisele -Crave You)

the beginning.

2010-12-01T05:48:00.000-08:00

going for a run at the gym is never just a session of treadmill routine.
there is always a layer of depth that strings with the intention of shedding off
a few (or in my case, a lot) pounds of fats to desirable figure.

I say a lot of things, with no commitments.
throughout this blog I have said I'm going to learn spanish.
I remember very well I had the intention when I was seventeen, and that was 3 years ago.
I remember that because I was still living with my parents in a minimalist apartment
in the heart of Kuala Lumpur,
and I wasn't able to drive the Honda Civic just yet.

I now want to learn French because my Dad is currently in Noumea,
the capital to New Caledonia, in which people pretend to nod but then a slight pause
when my stare translates to "do you know where that is?" so they go,
"where's that?"
"Pacific Islands" I answer
they'll still stare at me with an empty face,
and I'll have to explain with hand gestures that
it's a french colony island, 3 hours off Brisbane, Australia.

Back on track, I am currently 15kg above my ideal weight
which you can't really tell from my Facebook photos because I spend a while caking up on make up
and belting my dresses, I also make sure I'm photographed from a certain angle to hide this massive weight gain.

Everybody tells me that its not the weight, its the confidence,
I do have many icons that are far more heavy in mass,
but this isn't about my peers,
this is about my personal goal, before I turn 21,
alongside the many other (maybe unnecessary) things I'm trying to go for this year.

Losing the weight seems harder than I thought,
I need all rounder support.
I read an article yesterday that the amount your friends have on their plate
is the amount YOU eat.
funny, because all my friends are fit, athletes and extremely enthusiastic about spending their weeknights
kicking footballs, while I opt to sit and gobble down a plate of meat.

Right now, I have stopped eating rice since September, noodles since October,
(I do indulge it once in a while but I have to say, 8 plates of rice since September)
I've replaced my milk with low-fat, reduce the amount of bread/pastries/cake,
stopped snacking and eat fruits instead, pack on oatmeal smoothies, and add greens to my meal whenever I can.

I was brought up with fast food, so this self control thing is pretty difficult,
but then again, I look at my photo 3 years ago,
and I just want to puke at the oily golden brown fried food that are displayed on supermarkets.

you may not choose to read this, but this is just a personal goal.
now that it's written and published in the open,
i have to make a commitment to my body.

when i open my eyes, I see this.

2010-11-30T04:31:00.000-08:00

I had nothing to do today, so I entangled my chains and necklaces,
decorated my fairy lights, and cleaned my room.
still, I have not found a good content to write about,
maybe, it's just still empty, like my bedroom wall.

100 Words Project (36)

2010-11-25T01:16:00.000-08:00

the bad way of putting it is that I make snap judgments which leads to stereotype, but in this case I'd like to defend that you're easy to predict, by picking up little signs within the time span of less than half hour. When you asked for my number through a friend, instead of subtly approaching my table and getting introduced so we can shake hands face to face, you're already less of a man in my eye. That's strike one. When you finally got my number, I text you first trying to be friendly, you reply that you're "shy", you're already at the bottom of the pyramid. That's strike two. I can go on and on, but it will outnumber the initial baseball metaphor. I may be made out of rules and standards and templates to meet, but I do it because first impressions filter out the people I do not need to know. Have you seen my list of friends? They're super awesome influential people, who are amazing individuals to get to know. Oh, and repeatedly telling me that you're shy with a "cute emoticon" yeah, that's strike three. You're a man, a few years older, grow a pair.

It doesnt mean that I don't want to be friends, its just that if you try to cross that line, you have a lot of second impression to work on.

100 Words Project (35)

2010-11-22T04:45:00.001-08:00

consider the farmer, he took his choice of seed, brings it back to an empty land.
he carefully planted the seeds, and watered them everyday for a few months.
he delicately takes care of it, trying not to cross anything,
he doesn't rush. in the end, sometimes it becomes a good harvest sometimes it doesn't.

i think that is how life is right now.
i regret pushing away many people just cause, i go black and white,
"what do you want from me?" right after two cups of coffee.
but loitering around the grey area can be a hell lot of fun too.
and this weekend have absolutely slapped my face, said 'live to be surprised.'

sometimes bad things happen, and sometimes you get lucky with good fortune,
all you need to do is not cross fate, and be patient.
your reward will come soon.

like mine.

100 Words Project (34)

2010-11-18T01:43:00.001-08:00

lately I have been finding love in things around me,
the love that society constructs is between a boy and a girl, a boy and a boy, a girl and a girl,
but in a form of commitment and a ring from Tiffany's.

like how I very well said few posts ago, I should have never doubted my ability to love,
for I have done that, for 20 years, as a sister.
I'm halfway to being the best lover, because I know responsibility, sacrifice, patience,
the ups and downs, and the growing process.

today, I learned another.

for a while now I have been an avid follower of fashion (oh that sounds so cheesy), just like every girl in room,
i'm your typical buyer of social identities; i go where the wave goes - high street brands, ideas to the local tailor, and flea market which is the absolute rage (and a miracle to my pocket). i tried for an internship at an amazing regional fashion website, and i got in. i wrote, for an online student fashion magazine that brought together young fresh talents in malaysia. and though i take my breaks, i still keep up. for a moment in '10, i decided to give it up, because it did not stimulate me to grow. i was just a writer, an observer, just like every other teen tween adult in the world - lusting for sheer perfections when the prestigious websites feature it as "trend of the month". i have stopped talking about my favourite designers, and keep it short to, "that's nice."

but there I was today, sitting in the office of my thesis supervisor, and we brainstorm for a solid topic - and it came down to fashion.

i realize now that fashion gives me so much headache - the hours of staring onto a computer screen going from window to window of countries in the world, major brain freeze from overload of style inspirations and preferences from established magazines, chasing the trend that is never consistent with time, draining my student budget wallet and pressuring me to lose lose lose so I can fit to a size 'average'. fashion have been so much of a trouble to follow, with so little outcome. what do I get from it, but one two compliments "hey, you look nice!" and the whole day pass by without remembering that I had on a pair of shoes that costs my dinner meal.

but that is love, I guess - do anything for it at whatever the consequences, being patient because it takes years to build trust and get to know, and if its meant to be, it'll follow you everywhere.

just like how I have to breathe fashion in twice the dosage for my thesis for the next 5 months.

100 Words Project (33)

2010-11-17T13:37:00.000-08:00

ladies and gentlemen, applause for glory, for i have joined adolescence, i have officially self diagnosed myself with insomnia. proof? one week worth of not sleeping until sunrise, and yes, i do not have all nighter assignments to pull off nor cramming sessions for exams. i am not chasing anything but nothing, and yet i have no desire to sleep. i challenged this body, to two days of treadmill, no tea before 7pm, buffering TV series, tire myself out with blank thoughts, but i still, stay awake in time for sunrise. it seems that sleep is only a necessity, and nothing to lust for. i have no desire of sleeping, for days. and i'm sure this is morally legit in some places of the world, right?

every morning I get up with the first thing on my mind; eggs. I ran out of eggs today. maybe that's causing my trouble of sleeping.

100 Words Project (32)

2010-11-14T07:53:00.000-08:00

in three days, this time last year, would be the start of, my naivety. I let my guard down once, and I fell in the darkness. this time two years ago, was what I thought the beginning of my strength, apparently my 18 year old self have not met 2010. the weight, of the world on my bare skin, has been lifted off months ago, and now i can say - I'm happy. did i win? Did I win the happiness race? was there ever one? sad to say, my happiness has gotten in the way of my writing. a good writer can write about everything beautifully, and convince you that it is the right emotions to have at the moment. but i can't. maybe i'm not a writer, maybe i write because its therapeutic. but if i'm not a writer, then what am I? what's my identity? have i lost it to real life happiness?

i write crappy when i'm happy. i'm just gonna watch 30rock now.

100 Words Project (31)

2010-11-11T04:48:00.000-08:00

Hi,
you,
I,
saw,
your,
photo,
on,
facebook,
today.
Congratulations,
are,
in,
order,
what's,
your,
next,
move?
Hey,
you,
know,
that,
place,
up,
in,
Damansara?
We,
should,
go,
there,
sometime,
its,
beautiful.
Okay,
have,
a,
good,
weekend.
:)

That will be the composition of my awkward text message to you, I thought about Facebook message,
but not knowing whether you've read and ignored it, you have never checked your Facebook inbox, or whatever the reason,
will just kill me.
So here, I blog.

Congratulations again, by the way.

100 Words Project (30)

2010-11-09T00:38:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I drafted a lengthy post on my after-college doubts,
I'm graduating next year and I need to make a choice,
graduate school, yes, but where?
Hence this is post 30, because I'm still rethinking post 29.

I wrote about, how I'm beginning to see myself ticking New York off my list,
as goes for San Fransisco and every Western city there is.
I don't see myself in that kind of establishment although my father likes to subtly imply,
for 10 years now, unless you are an innovating genius,
to get a competitive edge, you have to learn from the developed,
and bring it to the developing (country).

I had written over 200 words of my fear,
on losing myself in a crowd of diversity.
New York is the center of it all, and if I do, move,
I will blend into the crowd of passerby,
as bright as my trenchcoat might be.

My sister gave me a link over on Facebook,
Five Dials, a digital literary magazine for those interested in good writing. It compiles letters, poems, short essays and fictions from various writers.
As I read my first Five Dials: Orhan Pamuk's My Father's Suitcase over an iced green tea,
I immersed into the words written, and for 20 minutes,
I laughed, cried and wrote down the quotable story.

Instantly, I thought about the draft I wrote last night.
I had seen it all wrong.
New York won't fade me,
because no matter where I am, society will.
If I don't go back and lock myself up in hibernation with books and articles,
soon I will forget how to write and how to read.

How do I explain my situation?
Like Pamuk explained, writers escape through writing, because they don't find it in their reality.

I grew tired of the monotonous routine that is around me
and I speak for a number of friends,
everybody's got their own interests; some went into working events, modelling, leaving the country
and as for me, back into the square walls of my tiny room,
into writing and reading.
It is when we gather, talking pointlessly about others and going out to have fun - just about too much,
that we get so sick and tired of the same varieties of things.
I feel as though sometimes, we intoxicate each other, by doing too much of one common ground.
It is when we get into the rhythm of forgetting our own interest,
that we subconsciously drew a halt, onto our internal development as human beings.
But then again, sharing and human interaction are parts of self-development,
and sitting down in a crowded place, entertained by the clown of the group,
can really brighten up a day of solitude.

Someone told me once before, "I don't understand when people tell me, 'they don't care what people say.' You can't do that. You live in a society, of course you are going to have to listen or care a little about what people have to say. Unless you are living in isolation, where no one, NO ONE, is there besides yourself."

And I have to agree, sometimes I contradict myself,
I bash upon society, when its the one thing I come back to,
when my room seems like a prison cell of misery.

I don't really know where I'm going with this,
I've lost my focus,
and now, I'm only thinking how, I'm probably 200 words over the limit.

BEST SISTER IN THE WHOLE WORLD.

2010-11-08T09:32:00.000-08:00

I only have one younger sister and we're two years apart. For 20 years, I remember tid bits of how we used to play in the snow as kids, and fighting when we got older, and now maintaining a good sister relationship via Skype due to geographical reasons. I have to admit, 18 years of sisterhood is difficult to maintain, when the highs are highs, the lows get manic low.

It's always been just the two of us, and my mother never fails to remind me that I have loved my sister from the moment she told me I was gonna have a sister. So, at 2 years old, I made a promise, that I will love, cherish and appreciate her for the rest of my life. And I intend to keep to that promise.

Here are reasons why having a close sister bond is pretty dang awesome.

She's your first best girl-friend.
She is the first friend I made, and she has seen me in every state possible. We developed comfort at a very young age, so we didn't have to work at it when we grew older. Parents also made sure we were always in the same school, so we take care of each other. Since we move around a lot, she is the only friend in a new school, so we go lunch together before adjusting to new cultures. Over the years, we have build trust and therefore, being honest is never a problem. However painful, I know my sister will never keep me from the truth.

You can share a room, whatever age hence saves rent and more sisterhood bonding.
Though we'd like some privacy, but on some occasions, it's cheaper to bunk in together. Give us a single bed, and we'll make it work, without having to feel the awkwardness. Living in one room also give us the advantage of borrowing each other's clothes: 2 completely different wardrobes. And because we're in so little space, we end up sharing everything together hence, the synchronization of our interests.

She's a total opposite, so you learn new things from each other everyday.
Just like friends, she is the 180 version of me. We like different things and we argue, because our point of view are different but we make it work somehow. When you have one sister, you tend to be more willing to accompany her to new places/music she's curious of, and she'll do the same for you. It's like you have four eyes.

Love triumphs everything
I would lie to you if I tell you I don't believe in love because I love my sister more than anything in the world. And I quote from her own words

"Kak, when you hurt, I hurt. We're like the same people. We're one person."

I learn so much about compromise, sharing and responsibility by having a younger sister - that sometimes I forget, I forget that I KNOW very well how to love. I just need to apply those things to another person.

And if you're lucky, you'll stay close wherever you are in the world.
My sister and I are very privileged, because we were close since we were infants, so keeping a close relationship was never an issue. But the young adolescent things that we tried our best to tell each other - that needs courage and trust. The fact that no matter what awful things I have done, I know that criticisms will come, but never judgments. Every fight is totally worth it.

Dessy and I playing dress up via Skype.

100 Words Project (28)

2010-11-08T02:35:00.000-08:00

Dear Stranger,
I saw you today on the college bus that took us other side of the Uni,
you were wearing black and white staples,
you were alone.
I wish you stood in an eye distance while we waited for the bus,
I even tried looking for you when I sat down comfortably in the heated vehicle.
I slowed my walk pace when I got out of the bus, and into my car,
only to look for you, what car do you drive?
You know, last night I developed a crush on my high school crush,
and one may hope, but the best friend said, he gave a subtle green light.

But seeing you today,
I was so close to approaching you and say,
"Hey you're (your name), right? My name is Fafa."

100 Words Project (27)

2010-11-06T07:51:00.000-07:00

Dear stranger,
the first time that I heard about you was when my friend's boyfriend mentioned,
"ooh someone likes you!"
of course he makes big deal out of things so I don't believe him.
I began to wonder who you are, and how do even come to know of me?
I found out you're one of my friend's friend, on a different circle,
one that may not overlap, anytime soon.
then a while after that, friend of mine mentioned he was at your place,
and he said you said i'm something else.

I just brush it off in public,
but can I tell you this?

That few nights ago, I dreamt we were holding hands going up an escalator
of a shopping mall.
I want to tell someone, that I want to get to know you,
because I can't seem to get your name out of my head.
I want to be able to tell someone that these little hunches,
grew as a pull factor.
I don't know you, you don't know me,
we've never spoken before, we're not friends,
I've seen you around, and you obviously have seen me around,
I stopped by to say hi to your friend the other day and I want to catch a glimpse of your eyes,
but I was scared we'll meet and hit,
all I know is, we're under the same roof of institution,
but I think, I think I want to get to know you.

learn something today, kids.

2010-11-06T01:21:00.000-07:00

INFLUENCERS FULL VERSION from R+I creative on Vimeo.

Influencers is a short documentary about how creativity and trends are contagious in music, fashion, and entertainment.

100 Words Project (26)

2010-11-04T12:27:00.000-07:00

I published another content, few minutes ago,
but decided that it was too shit,
and now I'm gonna let enormous amount of medicine
do the writing.

I haven't been writing because I don't want to rant,
I don't want to self pity,
and the less I talk about it, the more i avoid unnecessary talks,
the more i have time to do other things.

But refraining from writing means I have restricted myself to freedom of expression,
and thinking twice about posting up 140 characters of rant just cause I don't want to annoy others,
means I am unkind to myself and my well being,
whereas I've been telling people, right now it's my turn to be happy.
I don't stand what I preach, I should be given a seat.

On another hand, listen to Eliza Doolittle's Rollerblades.

"While (you are) beating up on yesterday, I was on my rollerblades, rolling on, moving on!"

100 Words Project (25)

2010-11-01T02:27:00.000-07:00

its the week after halloween,
and again, I didn't dress up.
I went as an adorabubble Red Riding Hood last year
and wanted to go whimsical Fafinette,
with the whole green wig getup, but I guess,
I got stranded in a whole different culture,
and everybody's just up to the hype,
but when it comes down to it,
everybody picks the safest, angel or devil.
whats up with not being innovative?

i haven't written in a week,
and i can blame my uninspired life,
but truth is, it took me four days to complete a 30mn presentation,
and the other days i took for partying.
now i'm being chased by the horrors of assignments and everything that's due in 4 weeks.

all I've been talking about is Bali, bali, bali,
new years, bangkok, all that,
but when i look at my wallet, i have none, not a single cash,
and just papers to remind me that
i have gained so much weight, and that i have to stop eating dairy.

100 Words Project (24)

2010-10-26T08:14:00.000-07:00

I miss you,
you're my fucking rock.
I love you,
we've got this sister thing locked.
I'm so terrible at rhyming,
just a mighty laughing stock.

(This 100 words thing declined as my lack of sleep increases)

100 Words Project (23)

2010-10-24T08:04:00.000-07:00

the thing about change, is you gotta get into the rhythm.
fall down, but get back up again
it's not a temporary obligation, its an investment
every morning when I wake up, before I make my smoothie breakfast,
I listen to this:

show tunes empower me somehow, weird.

100 Words Project (22)

2010-10-22T14:19:00.000-07:00

Sometimes you stay long enough in a society,
and your mistakes resurface as first impressions.
It follows you around like a glue,
tell me, how many people you know as; the girl who cheated on her boyfriend, or the boy who owns (insert luxury car here)?

For a year, I had to live with the rumor that a girl despises me,
I've seen her around, we run in the same circles with similar lifestyle choices,
so what do I do tonight, when she joined my table at the club?
I hand her a drink, and said "Let's call a truce, shall we?"
turns out, she feels the same way as I do,
therefore tonight, I stopped conforming to grapevine
and took control of relationships with people.

There's just one thing that ruined the night a little bit,
when I saw him down the street, he said, "Don't worry, by 24 I'd stop working."
You want me to wait for you for 3 years, son?
Don't keep your hopes up,
I'l tell you fer' sure now that I'll be in the northern hemisphere, partying it up.

100 Words Project (21)

2010-10-21T05:37:00.000-07:00

I'm gonna call you on Friday, although I have been missing you for weeks.
Because why do you care?
You've got your overpacked schedule to live, everyday,
you have someone to whisper to you, "Wake up"
and you don't have a second to think about anything else.
No, that's not what I heard,
I heard you're not over her, yet.
I gave you space, I lead you to believe that I don't have anybody else telling me other information about you
and I play naive.
I play the party girl that keeps relapsing to change, and then do it again,
because thats when I'll call you, when I'm out in the dark,
when I'm out in the dim lights, where you can't tell the difference between a fake smile and a genuine laugh.
You do the same too.
You think we both don't have the same face?
That we try so hard to hide our dependence, and play pretend that we're adults now?
Its so much easier with us, because we don't have mutual friends with anybody,
maybe a few, but no one left from a year back.

I wake up in the middle of the night, realizing that you have made a fool out of me all these while,
only to wake up and say, I was just paranoid. A paranoid fool.
I'll call you on Friday.

This is probably more than 100 words, but
I miss you, or maybe I don't, I just like the idea.
I hate you, or maybe I just say it to suppress more feelings inside.
I want you, or maybe I'm just bloody greedy.
I'll call you on Friday.

100 Words Project (20)

2010-10-19T04:29:00.000-07:00

Is it possible to be happy for no big reason?
Today everything seems so right,
my best friend of six years can FINALLY go on a beach holiday,
the blend of my banana strawberry oatmeal smoothie was down right perfect,
30 minutes at the gym while I danced to One Night Service's Flowers,
the road was absolutely clear during rush hour,
when Razlan taught me guitar last night, he said I learn fast,
the pink, orange, turquoise and purple of my baggy shirt dress,
and the nostalgia of Veronica Mars reruns, that brings me back to high school.

And, the fact that this care package finally delivered.

I call this The Superficial Care Package,
reason: it's 5kgs of make up, bag, clothes, accessories, tights, and other necessities
for my sister in Canada.
I love her so much, and I love putting together packages,
serious sister love can make you do great things.

Can you tell I'm just a ball of happiness now?

100 Words Project (19)

2010-10-18T06:35:00.000-07:00

I drove to the end of the city, searching for this book.
My brand new paperback love, imperfect edges, and the last sentence on the back of the book says "I want sin."
340 pages of satiric utopian future, from the 1932 spectacle of Aldous Huxley, who once taught George Orwell.
After I read, I played the strings,
a friend gave me his first recording, "Flowers" by One Night Service.
There is a certain thrill living the second hand experience
of a friend and his success, it's almost like you were there right from the start.
So believe, give all your support to those around you,
people don't say it out loud, but yes they do need your help.
Believe me when I say, half a year down the line,
you'll feel the change.

Do the same to you, be kinder to yourself.

100 Words Project (18)

2010-10-17T19:22:00.001-07:00

I'm angry, today. Today I'm angry.
The disappointing thought I left with, before falling asleep,
was putting the pieces together - realized that you have made a fool out of me,
all these time, you have, and I was to blinded by the shiny superficiality.
When you get older, you learn to differentiate different emotions,
you don't just say, I'm sad and what you're really feeling is disappointment.
So I'm saying, my pride is wounded, at the past 1.5 years,
how you managed to keep me on the hook, without even trying a little.

I'm guilty of impulsive consumerism on social identity,
I have books, books, stacks of books,
of people's fantasies and opinions,
but I shrug real life perspective off.
I have clothes, piles of clothes,
with a shelf life of approximately one year.
I find new things to be obsessed about,
and discard it as soon as a newer shinier object comes along.
If I continue to identify myself with temporary tangible products,
I will soon become obsolete.

I'm sure I'm not the only one guilty.

100 Words Project (17)

2010-10-17T04:07:00.001-07:00

Have I written today? I swear I had something in the back of my pocket!
A little scribble of words, here and there? About what I saw last night?
Or what I think about today? Nothing?
What happened today? What's gonna happen today?
I'm probably just going to be home, tucked in the cold of the air conditioner,
and a yellow quilt blanket my mother left me.
On goodreads, I want to buy that Brave New World by Aldous Huxley,
I want to run to the nearest drugstore and get another pair of false eyelashes,
because I like how they make my eyes flutter, flutter.
I just finished Blink, now I'm thin slicing everyone,
making excuses and trusting little hunches,
maybe I should hear the sound of my intuition more often.
I still want to buy that book, I want to read the exact opposite of Orwell's 1984,
I'm going to buy it now,
goodbye.

100 Words Project (16)

2010-10-16T02:48:00.001-07:00

What you don't see, is what you don't know.
So beat it, stop talking, stop the badmouthing.
Just stop it, yeah seems kinda comforting,
talking about other people's problems,
compared to your mundane life,
but just stop.
We have more energy and time,
we are all given this advantage to do more than just,
sit around mope about what he or she should have done,
what we would have done, if we were in their shoes.
Truth is, when we finally get in their shoes,
we'd be the same fool
and then people would talk about us in the same way.
It's a vicious cycle.

100 Words Project (15)

2010-10-15T14:05:00.001-07:00

Is it time for a new day already?
I find myself being the biggest hypocrite in the universe,
I say I'm against something, only to prove myself wrong within the time span of two hours.
I have no self control, just like my biggest habit of always washing my hair as soon as the nice smell wears off,
its amazing what few centimetres of false lashes does to a girl,
a bigger confidence?
I managed to overlook my flaws and just look at the gorgeous flutter,
that will last me until 3 in the morning.
Why do friends say the darnest things?
Like, "Hey Fa, you'll never change, you'll always be stuck doing the same thing."
Why do friends don't believe you, especially when you say you're gonna change?
"Oh this will only last for 2 weeks"
Even if it will, just be kind, will you?
Thanks.

100 Words Project (14)

2010-10-14T09:12:00.000-07:00

everyday I wait for the clock to strike 12, the change of the day,
at least I get to forget yesterday and make a better one,
a new change of outfit, because I didn't realize that last one was ridiculously unflattering,
and horoscope - new day new horoscope prediction!
Yesterday it said that I was going through a perfectionist phase,
today it says, I have to learn to politely refuse.
in the city, your karma walks in the strongest form of weapon,
the mouth. have you ever thought how strong words are?

I'm trying to finish Malcolm Gladwell's Blink, and this one here, blew my mind.
The power of thin-slicing requires you to see an obvious pattern and improvise.
Just because you've done the most research, doesn't guarantee accuracy or victory.
Much like playing Chess. Everything you see is there, on the board,
but what you can't see is the opponent's mind.
What you can do, is learn his moves.

100 Words Project (13)

2010-10-13T09:03:00.000-07:00

I am speech impaired, I don't know how to get by with conversations anymore.
Everywhere I go, seems like empty talks.
I think that when people go out of their house,
they bring an invisible deck of cards, in this case the cards represent stories, fun facts, knowledge.
And when they sit, they flip the 3s and 4s, light stuff like, "The weather is so hot today."
and as the cards get higher, it gets deeper into your personal knowledge/interest.
right now I have no more cards in my deck.
Today, while the Chilean miners were being rescued (as of this moment, the count is at 14)
I was complaining about having a two hour class that starts at 8am tomorrow.

I think I'm in the biggest rut I have ever been,
I want more, I want more than to just sit and listen to people talk about other people,
I want more than this, because I know I can be better than this.

Social life, I'm gonna have to say hang tight, I'm filling up the cards in my deck.

100 Words Project (12)

2010-10-11T08:13:00.001-07:00

I'm boring, that plank of wood you bought for your DIY shelf
has a more interesting day than I am.
I cant type with my left fingers because I just spent two hours learning the guitar,
and now laying on my bed repeating Spanish words.
I need a new bag, a new pair of heels, and a new body.
Speaking of, Blood Type Diet Day 1 went pretty well,
the productivity distracted me from hunger.
I'm going to go back to new life, now. good night.

100 Words Project (11)

2010-10-08T08:26:00.001-07:00

once your mind is set, your body does all the work.
I felt that today.
My mum always tells me, "Don't think about that, its trash, throw it away."
at 14, I cringe, and tell her, she doesn't know what's important,
but I find myself throwing out the garbage more often in a day,
I've stopped carbs, and give myself a little bit to indulge once in few weeks,
from today onwards, I want to discover the pure hat fun I had back in '08,
I don't need any social lubricant, because these obligations are just imaginary.
the things I don't get from my social life, I find in books, goodreads and SparkNotes.
My parents just arrived in Noumea, New Caledonia,
the diplomat life once again, begins.

You know, I complain I don't fit in with society,
but then again, I'm a third culture kid,
we don't fit in society with our ever-changing roots,
we are an institution - of which variety of cultures come together in one individual.

100 Words Project (10)

2010-10-07T12:15:00.000-07:00

The definition of insanity is repeating the same thing over and over, expecting different results. - Einstein

I have so many things in my head, entangled in a circle of confusion,
so bear with me, I will jump from redundancies to irrelevant thoughts.
When it comes to heartaches, I'm a self taught expert.
Four, really God, four?
Darkness really make a big difference,
I was watching the crowd go up and down,
while the lights pan on their movements,
imagine if the club suddenly brightens up,
people will be conscious, looking at every inch of your clothing.
The darkness provide a certain kind of blind spot,
to prevent people from judging,
therefore distracts from uncomfortable staring,
and dance the night instead.
Am I just reading too much into this?

On another note, I think I know who I want to be for Halloween,
I will wear a brown painted fridge sized cardboard and go 'RAAWRRR' all night. (trademark)
You get it? No?

100 Words Project (9)

2010-10-06T13:42:00.001-07:00

They say when a woman changes her hair, she's ready for a change.
I dyed my hair brown, then switched it to violet black and stays comfortable.
though I'm itching for a bleach, so the purple shows.
same goes for the losing battle of my mind, and my heart.
if I can't get these two, under one body, to work,
how am I going to progress on the outside?
I admit, I have trouble accepting myself,
I go for other problems and exaggerate the lengths,
just because I don't want to hear, the root of it all.
but I see everybody's got their denials to deal,
what separates you from the rest is,
will you get out of it and move on?
or will you take it to your grave, let it rot with your bones?
just like my unbleached violet hair, I'm taking a stand on myself,
so please dear mind, listen to the heart,
and for the heartbeat to pace up the rhythm of logic.

100 Words Project (8)

2010-10-03T20:05:00.000-07:00

It has only hit the one week mark and I'm running out of ideas,
can you blame a single girl whose only occupied with two days of classes a week,
a little music and foreign language lessons on the side and keeping friendships intact?
here are random words I like, and I despise:

like - cake pop, loaf, tartine, bread, turpentine, plastic, porcelain, cat, paw, awesome, masochist, notebook, nectarine, socks, care package, brown bag, feathers, orion, neptune, feline,
dislike - random (totally overused), annoying, hiatus, gargle, chopper, fashionista, bougainvillea, pluto, spike, breakdancing.

is that hundred words?

100 Words Project (7)

2010-10-03T19:49:00.000-07:00

when you repeat something over and over again, it becomes reality.
thats what they thought me in class today.
my mind associates the line with two things,
'The Secret' documentary I watched back in '07, and this photo:

Because I remember back when I was 12, I told myself,
I want to be surrounded by creativity made by a fusion of guitar strings, bass, drums
with the vocals of a wildly imaginative frontman
now if we were in Almost Famous, my name will be Penny Lane.

with one fact in check, I still have one more,
and though my horoscope says that I should test the waters a while longer before making any commitment,
I say, the only commitment I have is to myself, new change, and the future of my name.

100 Words Project (6)

2010-10-03T05:56:00.001-07:00

I skipped a day, and just four hours to midnight, so I rush before I don't make another deadline.

I never understood the concept of window shopping.
Why make all the effort just to come home empty handed?
Why look for something you can never afford to own?
You walk walk walk, hold the fabric, lust over it, then put it back on the shelf,
and go on with your life.
The human need to look for somebody else who are going through the same thing,
is that really a basic need, or a concept that has been internalized for years?
I remember going to Anthropology class back in '09 and for 14 weeks,
my mouth opened wide, I could not believe how much concept human race has incepted in our minds,
and in time, it has become 'common sense'. So, with this, what is common sense?
Why are the things that can be argued as 'common sense', doesn't make sense at all?

100 Words Project (5)

2010-09-30T09:52:00.000-07:00

(Little Lou, Ugly Jack, Prophet John - Belle and Sebastian feat Norah Jones)

There were two breakups in a day and too much free fixtures to handle.
I care deeply about the emotional state of my two girls,
but last night, I was a slave to his presence.
Playing house in public, is the only time I get to feed my fantasy,
so I take what I can get, what I didn't expect is lingering standards, and leftover feelings from back in '09.
Still, I embrace the company. I like to think that last night, he drove all the way to end his night with me.
Other than that, I had a good good night, and yes, to get on the shallow end of the water,
eyebrows are the new size 0, and happiest girls are the prettiest girls,
good night, starvation!

100 Words Project (4)

2010-09-29T22:16:00.000-07:00

we spend our youths wrapped up in sins behind closed doors,
and last night was just like August '09 when I was dancing on the floor,
dialing your number, thinking I've moved on,
when its just pills at work.
except last night, as I begin to wear out,
your name appeared on the screen, "Hey, I'm outside, where are you?"
I got up in my Wednesday best, and better than any other night,
you pull me so so close to you, and that's it.

right now and in the near future,
you and I may not happen,
but when we live like the Greeks,
I know we will walk the same path, and this thing, might just be real.
But I don't do well on maybes, so for now, I will take you day by day.

100 Words Project (3)

2010-09-28T19:31:00.000-07:00

I jinxed myself today, I proudly announced my ability to sleep in any state of mind,
only to wake up 5 hours later, in dire need to bring my case to a friend.
I need a slap in the face, about my last sprinkle of hope, a glimmer of that candy happy person that I used to be.
I accepted the truth, and after 1.5 hours of therapy session with my sister,
I'm back to sane again.
I don't know myself anymore, and probably this is the real quarter life crisis I'm dealing with,
that I don't feel like I fit in with my friends anymore - because we're not in the same walks of life,
but I still do love them, nevertheless.
I lost my passion to the list of potential courses for graduate schools,
that it all comes down to, I want to write for the rest of my life.

100 Words Project (2)

2010-09-28T04:47:00.000-07:00

I hate my job, I'm working way too much (every day I'm stuck in an office)
At one o'clock, I take my lunch up on the roof
The city's right below, I'll write about a man
He's intellectual and he's hot, but he understands
(Belle and Sebastian feat Carey Mulligan - Write About Love)

This post is brought to you by 60s pop, the one that makes you dance in your bright blue Sunday best.
Last night I saw a man on the stage, he is a friend, but I may feel a glitch of tingle,
every time he takes my hand and stares, the chains dangling on his collarbone, and the sweat that blends on his white cotton shirt.
He runs like the rhythm of an influential genre, perhaps its the charisma he has under the pocket of his sleeve,
a fusion of strings, jumping up and down, good old blues, with harmonica.
I want to be forgotten as the girl who smiles when the music comes around,
and be left remembered as the writer who borrows the sound of the stage.

100 Words a Day (1)

2010-09-26T19:54:00.000-07:00

From today onwards, I will write 100 words a day; about anything, not necessarily true - because I like to take the basic idea of an event close to heart and spin it as my own. I will not describe where it comes from, leave it as your own interpretations. So today's entry:

Did you hear that? The eerie sound of betrayal?
Creeping up the backstairs of your big house, like the ghost of a child on a weary Sunday morning.
Sometimes I say, I can be alone, sometimes I say I’d rather carry this on my own.
But I’m a pathetic excuse of a human being, and I want to let you know I need help.
I need the courage of a widow left at the very beginning of her breath, on a working day where she forgets to make breakfast,
and drops her sons at school instead. I need the strength of a patient, patiently waiting for peaceful end,
and the suppressed emotions of a doctor, delivering bad news.

Dear Parents.

2010-09-24T09:55:00.000-07:00

I grew up like those teens you see on TV; full of rage and unnecessary demands,
the only thing keeping me from the extreme, is my parents.
I come from an average middle class family where the most we spent is on education,
and occasional gadgets such as digital camera.
We don't indulge in luxury items that has the same longevity as the inferior one.

I was never brought up to be spoiled, yet, the absence of Diplomat parent,
means that I learned my emotions from television.
For as long as I can remember, I never agreed to however my parents brought me up,
it seems as though they keep rejecting my demands.
I say, I want to go film school and grow up as a cinematographer,
they say, no, go into Economics.
I raise my voice, higher than the ceilings of our one floor apartment,
and storm out of the door more often than I'd like to admit.
For few years into my teen-hood, I convinced myself that my bizarre character
of wanting to be alone (and nobody understanding me)
isn't just a self esteem issue, but a disease than must be cured by modern medicine.
I scream, I laugh, then I cry.
I feel as though the only accomplishment in my teenage life, is becoming a difficult daughter.
I quote from my sister, I make being difficult look easy.

I could list a lot of regrets, but that would require a tub of ice cream, sappy songs, and 1 AM phone calls to my parents,
in which the respond is pretty default - why am I awake at such an ungodly hour?

I begin to see things clearly now that I'm completely alone,
without my sister as my sanity supervisor,
and I find myself regretting my choices for the past 10 years.

Dear Mum and Dad,
I am sorry for being such a difficult daughter, I will try my best to ease your burden for the next decades to come.
I do regret being too emotional and demanding, about unnecessary things that I will come to face at the right age.
If teleportation exists, I would tell my raging teenage self that, I will turn out fine - just enough to get by life, at least.

I'm sorry if I ever said anything bad, I don't mean it, it was just in the heat of the moment.
I love you both, and I want you to know that,
you are the simplest best parents I have ever met,
I can never imagine being brought up any other way.
With you, its never too much or too little,
always with love, faith and first things first, knowledge.
What we have in our head, must be bigger than the things we say and the materials that we wear.

I love you, Bapak Ade Sukendar & Ibu Isnawati Sukendar.

happy 18th birthday, my darling

2010-09-21T11:00:00.000-07:00

Happy 18th Birthday, my darling, I know this is probably too late.

I need you now,
and I know I will need you, always.
I love you now,
I have loved you before you were born, and I will love you, until the end of time.

47 minutes

2010-09-21T10:57:00.000-07:00

because only you can regain my sanity.

what did you do today?

2010-09-18T23:55:00.000-07:00

everybody has the same 24 hours, and what you do with it, is what you end up with at the end of the day.
yesterday I suppressed leftover emotions from a heavy Thursday night
by distracting myself with hair dye.
It would've been a bad Saturday night, but I kept chanting it'll be the opposite,
I had a cute dress on - that I bought 3 years ago but never wore,
but maybe I was not strong enough on the inside, still dealing with denials,
therefore was vulnerable to the negative vibes.

Under that black umbrella, I saw the different body languages,
crowding a late Saturday night, chasing the last half hour of 'happiness',
but I could tell most were uncomfortable about the rain getting on their clothes.

everybody has the same 24 hours, and yesterday I partied,
so I ended up with unnecessary emotions at 4am
and a courageous phone call to somebody I'm trying so hard to impress,
but maybe I can't pretend anymore,
I cannot play this 'game' everybody's so excited to feast on.
although he was delicately assuring,
but I felt my pride slipping from the grip of my hands,
and I just let go, let the conversation take its pace.

this Saturday I learned that finding inner strength comes from within,
no matter the external environment,
and when you fall down,
you get back up the very next day.

#nowreading Malcolm Gladwell - Blink

well, here I am

2010-09-15T12:54:00.001-07:00

subtracted from drama, and very little words to exchange.
in transition, of taking control,
though sometimes I still say things in pride, out of spite.
I'm not going back, ever, just forward,
but not with my head down to my feet, in defeat out of fear.

well, here I am, as stagnant as possible,
to a point where I can possibly bore you, with my graduating wishes,
and a closer relationship to the TV remote control.

I am happy, and I could ask for more in greed,
but for now I don't need anything else,
everything on the plate is enough.

what's out there?

2010-09-05T08:55:00.000-07:00

I just finished reading a post on my sister's blog about her eventful day up in the air,
and I also just came back from a cheap shopping hunt over the weekend.
As I stepped outside the car, I took a deep breath of home,
and it smells like routine.

the first place I went to was a mamak,
the second thing I talked about was partying and holidays,
and it seems like there are limited things to do in Kuala Lumpur
except to escape the dreadful drama, or unchallenging studies
people who work, drown in it, and gets a drama free card,
but for us students who spends half of the time complaining about the inefficiency of the university
and the other half wasting our nights away by talking about it,
well, we are left to run in the same circle.

I have not written very much, not even on my heartbreak journal,
and I find myself less tolerable and more open to honesty,
I'd like to think that it has something to do with my sabbatical in Jakarta,
or perhaps, knowing that I'm going leave Kuala Lumpur for good next year.

Today, in the car, on a long ride back from Hatyai (Thailand) back to Kuala Lumpur,
I thought to myself,
how Kuala Lumpur is like a goddamn merry go round,
its either you get stuck in the same new things,
or you get out of the country.
Then I thought about shifting all my friends to a new country for new exposure,
but maybe the problem relies on my social life.

(At this point, if one of you guys reading are my friends,
I don't have to justify why I said that because you should know my state of mind right now)

I still want to know what's out there,
and I want to place myself in the global society,
I want to know,
am I good enough?

And even though Plan B is to use my Malaysian contacts wisely to pay for my work visa,
so that I can stay, I'd like to be 60 and tell my grandkids,
that I went on with my Plan A, and became a writer.

subtracting the drama

2010-08-30T18:38:00.000-07:00

I dragged my feet towards that crowded line, I dreaded the minutes to boarding.
I didn't want to have to go back to a routine that was causing me to compromise a lot of myself,
I wanted to stay, in my 3 weeks sabbatical, in Jakarta, with my parents, and my sister.

I remembered 4 years ago, I was stressing over a little assignment,
I sat on the college corridor as a freshman, typing things on my brand new VAIO.
3 of my friends came by, Seth, Idris and Matin.
They said Hi, What's up.
I pulled my hair on each side, I'm stressed guys.
Then they simultaneously looked at each other with a cheeky smile.
Give me your hand, they said.
No! What are you gonna do! Are you pulling a prank? I hid my fingers away from their welcoming embrace.
Just give it! They insisted.
So I did, and then they told me to close my eyes.
They told me to visualize about serenity, and who I want to spend it with,
and made sound effects of the sea.
When I opened my eyes, they said, visualize this everyday, you will get it in real life.
Haha, I didn't stop laughing, until they stun me over a documentary called The Secret.
Yes, the modern philosophy may be doubted, but I am a firm believer of the law of attraction.
And also, God will give you things when you're ready.

When I arrived at the baggage claim, I realized my phone line was barred,
I went to the payphone and dialed some help for transportation.
I carried my guitar, small Delsey suitcase and handbag the whole way through - airport, train, car.

The first half an hour, I was reunited with my best friends,
and for the next twenty four hours Kuala Lumpur welcomed me with a bang.
A whole different turn of unexpected awesome events.
I was happy, and maybe because I was in a happy state of mind.

Life really is like mathematics and science.
What they teach you in school, can somehow be applied in real life.
My new found strength has convinced me to subtract the drama,
therefore my responses towards girlfriends that are having problems with boys,
are limited to,
"He's just not that into you. Move on. Next"

Its easy to say, I'm at a place where detachments to "boys" are my everyday drug,
but when I think, I do think about him.
At the Comedy Court tonight, I facebooked his photo, made some excuse to talk about him.
The night turned 180 degrees when I saw him, by chance, fate, coincidence, whatever it is,
I know I can never stay angry when greeted with that comforting smile. I have so many questions in my head,
but there is one thing I've come to confront, that I don't have the ownership to his soul,
neither does he,
all I can do is try, without knowing how the outcome might be,
but I do think, he's worth it.

Mostly, I want to see women empowered.
I don't know about life, I've been having a good protected one,
but even that, I see girls compromising for boys,
that just doesn't last very long.
In 3 years, he'll just be talked over dinner, Hey remember that douchebag? I was so stupid.
It has to start with little things, like not wasting your time for something that is making you sad.

I'm glad of my university results, soon I will be a graduate, maybe after 1 million bats of eyelashes,
but I will make it.
I will be twenty one, and plenty.

I have a few scares here and there,
about getting weaker as days come where my friends list pile up,
but as I preached at sunrise,
I'm tired of sugarcoating my feelings.
I'm exhausted of having to explain why I prefer going to shopping malls alone,
and why I didn't call Person A, because people just don't observe you.
They've got their own shit to deal with,
so communicate.

I'm subtracting the drama and multiplying more time for me to learn new things.
Which probably adds for more preach, but I'm happy.
I am really happy.

get off me, melancholy

2010-08-18T01:02:00.000-07:00

i have a baggage,
that's lugging me from behind,
in a form of a black thick leather journal; my heartbreak journal.

i carry it on a daily basis, but no one has seen the inside.
it's got names (real names) of people who's come and gone,
it's got figments of fictions that occupies the top of my head when i lose in reality.
it's got everything in the past two years.

nothing else says tragic, than a person who carries the weight of her failed flings,
in a form of book that she tugs around as a part of the fragile heart.

today, was my weakest - a broken spirit and cellophane taped mouth,
under the rain I listened to Nada Surf - Inside of Love, and read the heartbreak journal through and through.

I know that the journal gives me the most depression,
and now that I have decided to live differently,
I give myself til the end of the paperback,
and I will burn the melancholic contents of my heartbreak journal.

the internet was created by a lonely person

2010-08-14T05:31:00.001-07:00

the internet was created by a lonely person.
he was not invited to a mad dash party,
he did not have enough to buy women white gold and silver
he had time, solitude, knowledge and curiosity.

with many things that can be done alone,
mankind should never utter the words "I'm lonely."
and continue to repeat, in a crowded social event.
man should say, "I am too busy."

for several days, I have embraced this change,
and my eyes are narrowing its focus - 2011.
I always say, I will finish what I started,
and look at what I ended up with
free podcasts of Spanish and French lessons, free online courses from Yale, MIT and UC Berkeley,
a dusty guitar and massive weight gain.

I must, must, must, for the love of God,
must not get distracted by the urge to take the easy way out.

but I'm happy, I really am

2010-08-08T04:10:00.000-07:00

I know how to smile, I know how to laugh,
when I get introduced, I take their hand and smile - my brightest,
and say "HI!"
when people flash the camera, my first reaction is to smile,
because I can't make that funny face in three seconds,
I am happy, or at least, I repeatedly say so, but
for the love of God,
I really don't know how to write about happiness,
tragic isn't it?

you used to be so pretty, now you're just tragic

2010-08-08T03:57:00.000-07:00

there are a lot of reasons as to why I prefer to have a broken heart,
than a happy smile.
I'd stay in this deep dark hole, with ten million pieces of my heart scattered on the bed sheet.
there is something beautiful in pain,
that the sorrow will be over soon, sun rays through the silk curtains,
there is something tragically delicate
about a waif girl hiding behind her morning clothes,
getting a cup of coffee for breakfast,
smoking a cigarette by the porch as she thinks,
that what makes her day, would be blotted ink on paper,
and another manic episode.

I'm a diligent follower of my own writing,
and I see that over the years,
I have become more and more depressed.
but in reality, I think, I'm content with life.

it's a cruel reality when I admit, that,
I exaggerate my sadness to a point that I can create a memory for writing.

"You meant more to me than anyone I ever loved at all,
but you taught me how to trust myself and so I say to you,
this is what I have to do."
(Missy Higgins - Where I Stood)

I got to save the world from loving you

2010-08-06T07:06:00.000-07:00

a manic black silhouette standing by the door,
she crept up in silence, and whispered,
"I got to save the world from loving you."
her trembling lips, and tearful eyes,
counting the days to mayhem.
fear builds up as her threat grew wilder,
pain as life's treasured collectibles,
in a bruised vinyl of ego,
she only lives in her dreams,
a haunting state of mind,
no choice but fantasy over reality,
for the sake of victory,
"so give me what you got,
I can take one last shot,
make it good,
I'll be still.
I'll be still."

He laughed, took a sip of his pride,
"lady, you're as crazy as you can be.
and I will never find another like you.
take your defense down, and I promise you these; a change, honesty and a permanent smile on your face."

She glanced over the shoulder,
"Maybe."

just as the walls crumble, and everything became a series of love story cliche,
she said, "you destroyed me, the day you persuaded me to take my guard down."

so she took the twist and pinned it down to the head,
its just a matter of time now,
"I got to save the world from loving you."

+++

above is the result of Nicole Simone - Melt, dark sinful days that demanded a lot of thinking, and bringing up suppressed memories.

dear friends and family

2010-08-06T06:52:00.000-07:00

I never gave much thought to the power of words,
that is until I started this blog.
people often ask or even react towards what I've written,
and as much as I love feedback,
I'm a stubborn 20 year old girl in transition to adulthood.

I've only seen the effects of my writing, positive and negative, as of recent,
I complain that all you familiar people are restricting my words,
I don't want to have to explain myself
whether I'm over that guy, or I've resolved this issue, or I've changed my views,
I also don't want to unrealistically plea for a silent audience,
because I am truly grateful to the responses, which are mostly face to face.

but here is me, asking for you to understand out of social courtesy,
that if I ever write about you, don't ever think for a second that I do it to provoke negativity,
not even in personal relationships.

I am just trying to understand my life through writing,
much cheaper than hiring a psychiatrist.

I'll catch myself when I fall, thanks

2010-08-01T14:41:00.000-07:00

six years ago I came to this city with a fist full of revenge.
I complained to my new friends about my old ones,
it took me three years to forget a five month puppy love,
and a while longer to admit things I didn't like doing but rationalized back in Jakarta.
I told my newfound confidence repeatedly that Jakarta had to get it,
Jakarta has to learn that I am doing fine without it.
Of course Kuala Lumpur has proven to become my best and worst relationship,
ups and downs, but big cities are toxic like that,
but much like your relationship with friends and family, you gotta work things out.

for six years I played God to my own lifeline,
I postponed karma, and overstepped destiny.
but when I got entangled into this web of complication,
and was finally a part of the city,
I acted differently.

I know people would expect the obvious out of me,
but last month, specifically as of recent,
I'm beginning to see the good side of being the person who let go of things.

my mind is without hatred, dislikes are sometimes peer pressured,
but my vision is crystal.
learning how to be sincere in forgiving and letting go
really is a virtue to yourself.

today my horoscope said

"....when you choose to trust someone - and it really is a choice - then by definition you have to believe in that person completely and without reservation. You may have decided recently to put that kind of powerful faith in someone. You haven't known this person for very long, yet you have a good sense of his or her character. So don't do it halfway; go all the way if you are going to go at all."

in which Nini asked, "Who have you decided to trust?"
I answered, "Myself."

a scorned lover

2010-07-31T02:19:00.000-07:00

my all time favourite character is the scorned lover.
think 1920s, Marion Cotillard, a jazz bar, cigar smoke, rainy day, the deep erotic eerie voice of Nicole Simone.
the black widow is a little haunting, and her fragility is what drives her crazy.
a cheating husband, a dead fiance, a chauvinist boyfriend, forbidden love, lingering masochism,
any paranoia that makes her scream on camera,
better with blade on her wrists, and blood, all over her beautiful black dress.
she rinsed off the body, put the evidence over her coat, and that pursed red lips
remained intact, until she loves again. until she kills again.

always always, my favourite character in a film, always the scorned lover.

and just because I'd like to think I live in 35mm,
I'm listening to Nicole Simone's EP on this rainy saturday.
Here's her video, click if you'd like to be reminded of your deepest sorrow.

Each night and day I find myself making up the ways
That somehow you are worth each thought
I think throughout my days
Cause loving you is hard to do in every single way
How I wish I have the strength to send you on your way

I love you but let me go this is no way to be
Unlock my chains I won't run far just need to feel free
Like a king you rule your world and I am but a slave
On my own I'll never leave grew used to being shamed

You have got me
Oh you got me
You have got me
You really got me
You have fooled me
How you fooled me
And everyday I waste away by loving you

All I see is misery down the road ahead
But silly me cannot believe my eyes but just my head
All the love I have to give is going right to you
How I fear its running out and soon I will be through
(Nicole Simone - You Got Me)

hats off to you dear anonymous.

2010-07-30T07:46:00.000-07:00

I've been called mellow a thousand times, and to be honest, I'm tired of defending that I'm not,

and to be more honest, I'm tired of denying that I'm not.

half of the year have gone by, and it seems like I've been living in it forever.

+++

"hey fafa. i know you and you know me but i am not going to reveal who i am."
was how the message from an anonymous profile on Facebook started.

He/She was kind, and I would assume, is one of my dearest friends,
because it was a long thought-out advice about my messy dramatic life.

by afternoon, I found out other friends got message on Facebook from the same anonymous profile.

all micro-personal.
Believe me, the depth of the message was absolutely amazing.
This person knows me, you, him, her, us, them,
sees from an outsider vantage point, but knows like he/she's been inside all along.

I might be sitting in front of this person all along,
going for lunch, partying it up on Saturdays, and aimless days in the sun.

"take a second and think about it. if you want to talk. i am here.
just message me."

+++

I've never felt so much about a city, not in twenty years of my life.
So it's time to let go.
In my nature as a third culture child, it's time to move on to another city, another life, another identity.

table for one.

2010-07-28T10:53:00.000-07:00

I am unused

scraped piece of white paint on a damaged wall.

written all over on big black prints.

dart bullets through my insides.

I am irrelevant.

a redundancy on a piece of breaking news

adds a twist, unnecessary for publishing.

I am unimportant

drowned amongst the city commotion in rush hour traffic.

I don't have colour

I am faded as the sun rises gleefully.

I am nothing

just a dust particle on the face of the universe.

I am a nobody, not even in your tainted heart.

day one in happiness

2010-07-25T01:41:00.000-07:00

I've been in a rut for too long,

that I've been recycling the same cotton tank & jeans for a month,

threw away half of my wardrobe

only to find I have piles more that I can't fit

I gained so much weight that I keep regretting the past 3 years

of unnecessary binge eating

but last night,

a clincher belt saved my outfit,

the brush stability on my liquid eyeliner was perfect,

my cheap pharmacy lipbalm worked as a great plumper

and my literal out-of-bed hair curled the right way.

it made my day,

and somehow, it feels like the first day of something good.

i know boys don't generally get it,

but the little miracles that make you look good on a fat day

give a better outlook on life, for a girl.

inception.

2010-07-23T21:21:00.000-07:00

a few years ago, I had the longest dream of my life.

it happened over few days, in dream time.

i was walking barefoot in a city

that looked like a mixture of Tehran and Jakarta

i kept going round in circles to familiarize myself

post offices, restaurants, city hall, library,

the cars, bicycles, gardens.

fast forward a few years,

i went back to the same city, this time equipped with a car

explored the outskirts, and got to know the highways.

last night, i fell dead asleep, only to find myself

barefoot again on the same city,

but this time sleeping in a hotel bedroom,

went for conferences, tour guided a few strangers,

shopped, ate the food and chatted to shop owners.

funny thing is for all my life, in my dreams,

I'm always running.

last night I ran out of the conference hall and into the rain,

yesterday night I flew a thousand miles out of this island I was living in,

few months ago, I ran away from ghosts that terrorized like humans,

few years ago, I sprinted my way onto a lake where I found a friend,

and the same dream that kept occurring when I was younger?

the one where I drove a car, running away from dinosaurs.

since the Dream Share is real (refer: Inception)

I think I'd like to give it a try.

2010-07-23T13:39:00.000-07:00

I'm tired of living with my imperfections,

including the character that procrastinates with changing myself to a better person.

maybe a gun shot through my skull would be the best solution.

hand me that gun

2010-07-23T13:27:00.000-07:00

just shoot me in the fucking skull already,

it won't make much difference in the world.

yeah, so my friends would be missing that emotional little twat

and my parents would be missing their first born,

and my sister would lose her only sister,

but I would not make a difference.

I would just be a number,

maybe a sub-headline by the column of a newspaper,

"20 year old teen dies by jumping off the bridge"

no one will know my name or my face

I'll just be a victim of suicide

depression over the city coyness

and immorality.

hand me that gun,

tie my neck into that brown rope on the ceiling,

break my bones, for my soul have given up.

what is the point of living,

when I can predict the next decade going to be?

a life of rejection and fear.

I'm begging you dear Fate,

kill me now,

while I'm still young.

I can hear the birds outside the window

2010-07-22T14:40:00.000-07:00

its morning already.

my curtains are bronze and pale,

too thick to see the sunrise.

on this square bedroom,

I thought of you.

today I told myself not to fall, when I see you up there,

and I didn't,

maybe distracting myself with a glass helped a little.

I spent the whole night watching Glee,

thinking twenty is too late,

to finish my piano, guitar and vocal lessons,

not forgetting taekwondo or even dancing.

being completely alone is weird.

you spend less time typing,

while the dose for envy doubles,

those people on my right with a hand to hold,

while I, go home alone, not saying a single word until I wake up the next evening

to a phone call about where my friends are headed next.

the loneliness is settling in,

I'm enjoying every non-compromise possible.

I don't have to lose this weight, because no one complains,

I don't have to change my shirt, I can wear the same one for over a week,

because no one notices.

the invisibility is creeping in,

and I much rather stay home, on the comfort of my crowded bed,

with three pillows, two bolsters and one Domokun doll,

i'm not really alone.

dear twenty,

I promise by 11th April, I will finally be enough.

just learned a life lesson, don't mind the preaching

2010-07-21T14:29:00.000-07:00

a while back, in tears I said to a friend, "what will I gain from being the better person?"

and life really is a blessing in disguise,

because once you just let it go,

you cut everything short to a few weeks instead of months

of nonsense lingering pain.

I think that the first step to internal conflict is, stop the denial.

cut it short, accept the truth, work your pace from there.

When it comes to external conflict, the best thing to let out is, the truth.

as long as it's out there, you can't be held against anything, because of courage.

the contents, reaction, responses, consequences of the truth, are what comes with it.

And there is always enormous reward from being civil amongst each other,

you get a friend out of it.

words just haunts me, without meanings

2010-07-14T13:13:00.001-07:00

never sell yourself a fool,

for the rest of your life, they will mark you are.

first impressions in a glass box,

fragile to the edge of a hanging thread,

and never forgotten like permanent ink mistaken for acceptance.

just like music notes played as chords on guitar,

the play is in different rhythms

but always in similar varieties.

they will meet again someday, soon enough,

before the night closes into sunrise,

and will be remembered like an angelic tattoo

on the back of a whore.

let's play pretend.

2010-07-14T13:01:00.000-07:00

sometimes I say things I don't mean in pride,

out of spite.

I say, don't worry about me baby, I got this.

I'm stoned cold as a rock, and numb as a stone.

You give me anything

and I'll go around with a deep breath under my mouth.

I'm okay I'm okay I'm okay

I'm fine I'm fine I'm fine.

chants in the mirror,

and all's swell again.

all you need is love

2010-07-12T12:07:00.000-07:00

zoom out and you are just a tiny freckle in the eyes of God,

a loose vein that will soon be replaced in the pace of blood stream

stop looking at the little nuisances in cryptic society

because I believe we are all born to come together in unity for one aim that is to share,

and sharing needs the basic foundation of love.

but I'm going to stop the 60s revolution for now,

and say thank you, God.

to the Universe, I am inferior to the mysteries.

to Mother Earth, I humbly serve my human hands to repair the broken soil ground.

to you dear God, I apologize for always taking your presence for granted,

for never saying 'thank you' to the twenty years You have given me.

this is my prayer, to the land I only know, my home, the earth.

and to the highest power known by mankind, God.

let me tell you about my monday

2010-07-12T11:46:00.000-07:00

the sun was mocking me

from the selfishness of a sleepless night

where the world's eyes were on one phenomenon so great,

you stop to function for ninety minutes.

as I wake my tired soul,

I hesitated to put my feet on the ground,

what's the use?

I lost a face, due to my disgraceful

combustion of emotions, all the rage in one bloody football game.

before the day could claim its victory

I indulged in a little sunset,

and tucked in my miserable heart

to the city's jazz bar,

where they were having a benefit gig for PAWS.

as I look for flaws, I find perfection in music.

my ears did the thinking,

and by Jerome Kugan's cover of Hallelujah,

I wrote.

the acoustic night pulled a delicate lullaby string

that puts my worry at ease,

and maybe, by tomorrow, people will be forgiving

of what I have foolishly done

on Sunday night where not only I lost to my emotional battle

but also the great team, Holland.

bang bang I'm dead

2010-07-11T21:05:00.000-07:00

who'd I have to kill here to get some sanity?

every drop of poison, selflessness trumps silence.

HAH! as if I ever tried hard enough for self control.

I walk away because that's the only way I know how.

life pulls me out every four years by force,

not saying goodbye, pretending for another greeting soon in the future.

I create another being, tell them "this was me in the past life."

and when you're new, people believe your words.

I don't want to walk away anymore,

I don't want to think in layering metaphors,

I don't want my brains to connect one thing to another

that leads to the past, present, future.

stop it please, stop these pictures in my head,

disconnect my soul from this self destructive body.

bang bang, I'm dead.

self control's a bitch

2010-07-11T15:56:00.000-07:00

I have been distracting myself with what I think is "happiness",

buried all unresolved issues

just cause I don't want to create conflict in a circle of friends.

Six years in Kuala Lumpur, I have been molded to not just be accepted,

but to be attached to those I have come to know.

Therefore, lives are being compromised and clashes in views happen.

In true form, I walk away.

Maybe just a few miles off the grid before anybody catches me and say,

"This is the last time I will be catching you."

But deep, I want more and more and more.

This poison is in excess, didn't I tell you that my greatest sins are greed, envy and pride?

I've run out of second chances with my great friends,

and I sure have to be grateful

that in the midst of Lady Karma's visit,

there are those who lingers a goodbye hug just a little bit longer

to whisper, "Everything's gonna be okay."

Everybody knows, but they don't believe it until they see it.

Truth is, I'm not okay.

I'd like to be excused from smiling for the next few months please,

I know you'd all understand.

yeah, this one's about you

2010-07-07T15:17:00.000-07:00

your existence is sinful to the desire

as like the temptation of a fruitful tree.

the tragedy is when the want becomes more.

your presence is hauntingly beautiful

drifting me to a cabaret of emotions

though I'm never close enough to confess

but boy,

you and I could be perfect.

(its just bad timing)

Wednesdays at Artista

2010-07-07T15:05:00.000-07:00

has become a comforting second home.

the first half would be greetings here and there, catching up,

the second half is singing dancing (I open my notebook and write)

and like true Artista culture, random musicians jamming on stage.

so lets ransack the writings tonight:

what are we chasing, when clearly there is a neverending demand for greed?

I don't like to say,

how much I fray,

the good to stay,

while I let the bad play,

so take my hand and we'll sway

under the sinful eyes of a beautiful faye.

the city canvas

in distant flickering lights

ignorance; the secret to happiness

blank stares as Sundays pass

words thicken, just like the smoke up on the skyscrapers

the circus of commotion

and the hopes for a new dream

fades into the dim

of the distant city lights

++++

Bazli's doodles:

"When the broom of sorrow starts sweeping by, don't feel its sway, just keep smiling everyday."

"If you try to delete, that end you'll never meet, try to forget, maybe you'll find a way back, even though you're unsure, just be yourself and keep it under."

"The day will come when you realize that life is as it is, cold, cruel but simple."

++++

"just be yourself." which one?

2010-07-06T12:04:00.000-07:00

I went to a party once, and there was a palm reader there and when she looked at my hand, she just froze. And I said to her "I know. My lifeline is broken. I know I won't live past thirty.

(Factory Girl - 2006)

in a way, everybody thinks they are alone.
that's why the creation of distractions are always being made, i.e the internet, TV, radio, shows
so when are we going to deny reality and ever move on?

I think that people have a hard time to move from phase to phase
because they haven't accepted reality.
people alter things that happen to them to avoid bruised ego.
are you nodding with me now?
sometimes it "completely" slip my mind that this boy uttered this line that may be interpreted as "being friends"
so i just tell them the good part.

but it seems like Lady Karma will not go away until I stop denying.
so here is three cheers to accepting my average middle class life.

i'm boring

2010-07-06T10:33:00.000-07:00

people have been subtly hinting that loneliness may be good for my health
i admit, the silence at night has got me thinking less about the little things that doesn't deserve an inch of my memory.
so the night is my best friend,

and today, Amy Winehouse records is jazzing the silence.
she intrudes my insanity, and tells me, you can sing about it.
also, it reminds me of you and the city streets.

I really have nothing new to say on paper,
and I don't think I need to declare it,
because I know myself, that my life is turning upside up.

I wish I could say no regrets,
And no emotional debts,
Cause that kiss goodbye the sun sets,
So we are history,
The shadow covers me,
The sky above a blaze that only lovers see,

He walks away,
The sun goes down,
He takes the day but I'm grown,
And in you way,
My deep shade,
My tears dry on their own.

sunday night on the same street

2010-07-04T21:53:00.000-07:00

(take your pick of an artist for the day, today is KT Tunstall)

my life repeats in alternate years,
and in the gap months, i drown in the black velvet couch of a coffee shop,
ignoring people go by.

I went back to the comfort of solitude
after my only sister left me for Canada.
it hasn't sunk in yet, but today is the beginning of a new life.
a life alone, where i have nobody to go brunch in the morning with,
share music, grocery shop, bitch to, mostly it feels like I lost my other half.
she means more to me than anything in the world, more than myself.
18 years and we've never separated rooms, even beds.

just as I sat through an expected miserable sunday night,
he called, saying he's busking on the same city street.

i tucked in my connection to the world, and romanticized the city streets,
while he sang with his guitar, ended at the ice cream parlour.

the night ended early, as I slept on my single bed alone.
I miss you already, sister.

because last night's writing, was about you

2010-07-01T02:39:00.000-07:00

serenade me any night but tonight
any time of the day, if not I might,
split my veins in half, (I really can't be that daft!)
endeavor in the lust of your voice
in my head waking me from early sleep.
my night is yours, and sometimes a drop of poison
intrudes its solitude
but pull that string,
I'll come running.