It’s been some time
I’m now sitting in front of the laptop, going through a cooling off period before I indulge in a new book.
I like this; the idea of letting the story I’ve just been feverishly reading over the last few days sit in me, as I go through its intricacies again with my mind. And marvelled over the imageries projects whenever I read about a certain scene getting a very detailed description, ponder over the loose ends that never seem explained, or rather, maybe it wasn’t meant to be explained in the book.
I’m a little disappointed at the abrupt ending, but also surprised at how readable it is. Neil Gaiman is truly a master of craft. I might, just might, read through his other books which are slightly more “shoujo”, as an acquaintance puts it.
But first, a short break. I don’t want to dive into another Neil Gaiman book so quickly, although I’ve been dying to read it. American Gods, that book. I started with Neverwhere, and now, to prevent myself from getting overwhelmed, I move on to Stephen King. Get a different flavour for a change.
There are so many changes in me, I also wonder if I can catch up. I need time to simmer down, but I do not want to halt to a stop.
I’m writing here because I need my writing privacy. The novelty of writing my feelings on Facebook wears thin nowadays. But fiction writing is best publish there. An unwilling reading audience, as I’d say.
I’ve met and greeted too many cuties. Let them all go, they won’t want to be seen with a whale.
Yes, I’ve ballooned in size. Don’t really care, if only my mom would stop nagging about health.
2013 has been treating me well. With all the new music that’s been coming out. Amazing stuff, my favourite bands have matured so much, their newest music suits my taste.
When will be the next time I drop by here again? Hmm, not sure. But the feeling of wanting to hide is ebbing, followed by a new sensation of wanting to dive into that new book I just brought out.
See you in a bit.
Part of me wants love as I’m now aging into a woman; Part of me listens to Ashlee Simpson’s “L.O.V.E” and relive angsty teenage moments where it’s easy to yell “Fuck Love!”, points a middle finger at it, and then dance nonsensically.
Still kicking myself for not knowing who is Damon Albarn before he was part of Gorillaz. His songs were eponymous, but it never occured to me he was rock too, part of the band Blur. And I listened to those songs since I was a kid!
I guess what I appreciate about men is true. I see a man, grown and matured, well poised of his ways and mannerisms. But then I stumbled his previous works and wished I met him when he was a boy, still bursting with creativity and craziness. But then it’s only a wish, never really something I want it to happen. Since I can’t get through a boy’s journey to manhood. It’s tough.
“ Things have gotten closer to the sun
And I’ve done things in small doses
So don’t think that I’m pushing you away
When you’re the one that I’ve kept closest ”
Crystalised, The xx
Unfortunately. I have been (really) pushing you away.
I returned the very first memory that got me attracted to him. I know I shouldn’t be bothered with what or how he may reply; heck, he may not even open it. But I figured, eh, I did what I want to do. I’ll just brace for the reaction in a not too distant future if there’s any.
On the other hand, a close friend made it to the finals of huge importance to him. Amazing moment to see his countrymen all cheering for him and congratulating him :). And also, found out that Malaysia made it to the main category in the quarterfinals.
Cynically, I’d say that Malaysia’s been doing so well in competitive debate it’s because there’s the only platform where we can throw out facts with people listening. Either that, or we’re just so good at making our selfs look good we just wing it and win. Of course, whether do we actually do any of those things….it’s another matter. And whether is competitive debate actually a useful tool in the actual society of Malaysia, well, it instills a certain pride to it. A pride that can turn into arrogance if not well managed.
But hey, keep my fingers crossed, who knows, debate really can bring the best out of a future leader.
Went to a friend’s wedding, and saw her journey with her husband. It was good.
I probably should also only get married when I found someone who walked the journey like that with me instead. The first one would have been embarrassing to retell.
Have you wondered why the right hand is given more expressive hand movements in a piano?
Not really...because majority are right handed?
Well...that stupid bias aside, do you think it's linked to how our brains work?
What do you mean?
The right hand is linked to our left brain right? Synchronised with logic, mathematics, science, discipline. So the right hand is given more expression, because it will be able to control the music
Interesting theory...so, what happens if the left hand becomes the expressive one in piano?
...I guess it will go out of control? That it can't stop itself, and the right brain just wants to keep expressing and expressing, if possible, it doesn't want to stop, does it?
Ah, but then...you still think the left hand should be given a chance?
Of course! We must let loose once in awhile! And just play to the heart's content, not let some discipline and tempo stop the left hand from being the potential they can show.
...huh, you're taking this piano theory way too seriously
I'm pretty sure they have scores out there for the leftie, darling
You got me into some argument about the linkages between how our hand functions and how our brain works. Well, I'm pretty sure that though the left hand's rhythmic outbursts are unheard of, it shouldn't be stopping you from innovating and try, see if the audience appreciates that kind of confrontational concerto just spitting right out there at their face.
Exactly, so before you go out there waltzing and waving for the need to show off left-handed creativity, have some discretion and master the control of how your right hand move across the piano.
(A spontaneous dialogue conjured after some inspiration. Classical music related)
A little trivia:
I share the same birthday as Jodie Foster and Meg Ryan, as far as actresses go
I share the same birthday as Kefka Palazzo, the crazy villain of Final Fantasy 6
I share the same birthday as Nurul Izzah, our up and coming politician with plenty of gutso.
I share the same day as World Toilet Day, a day dedicated to promote sanitation and health of having a proper place for excrements and urine.
Not that I’m complaining. I guess all this really explains my character and craziness sometimes.
1) Since my birthday coincides with World Toilet Day, I might as well embrace it and hope that every child should have basic amenities so that they do not die of diseases easily resolved with simple building of toilets.
2) In light of the violent conflict that has happened between Israel and Palestine, I wish a certain resolve can be met, with both nations looking beyond the violence and see the danger the dispute has inflicted towards women and children, as well as understand that no system should deprive any groups of their basic right to live. World War II history be done, a shift is growing and much compromise needs to be done and dealt with.
3) That I learn how to live a life of my own and be clear of my directions.
It’s a plain birthday, but perhaps a plain birthday is what I need to set my priorities straight.
Maybe next year I’ll have a really big blast. Who knows.
This is probably the first year where I did not have any plans on a day like this. Couldn’t think, and not sure what to celebrate about.
But no matter, Let it happen, let it breathe.
Happy Birthday to me.
Yet another comment about my weight. Not to make me feel better or motivate me, but to make me feel inferior, and bad about myself. Of course, always that feeling when it’s uttered by the ex’s bestie and the ex himself.
And I hold on to this idiot for three years?
Seriously, whatever did I do to create such negative presence that it lingers on and on TWO YEARS after the breakup? TWO YEARS man, I’ve moved on. Seriously. Whether it’s to work or to readjust life, that guy should’ve moved on as well.
I’m no hottie, but I think I have the dignity not to continue keeping him in my memory. Why can’t he just do the same already?
I was tempted to comment after I saw that comment, then I think to myself, why did it matter? It’s not like I’m ever going to try and reconcile with those two, asshole and dickhead.
If my reputation rot with them, be it la. Whatever man. The thing is they can keep talking about it and knowing it will do nothing to my ego.
I’m more worried about how to spend my weekends than worry about them. I worry more about trying to know new people and make friends than actually look at myself and cry over it. I worry more about my performance in work and would cry about work stress than stressing out about asshole and dickhead.
The past two years I’ve been reconciling with myself, telling myself to move on, adjusting to the new life, embracing the fact that I loved him, and stepped out of it, found someone new to like.
Suddenly I just think: I should just skipped all that embracing shit and just jump to the phase where I’ll just have multiple crushes over boys WAY WAY BETTER than that shithead.
Sure, I admit, I have problems with trying to lose weight. It’s something I’ve been struggling and something I haven’t been actively doing. But hey, at least other people who commented on it were concerned that I should regulate myself, otherwise I may have health problems day in day out.
But this is not exactly a problem they should worry about, nor something to laugh about. But if that’s the only thing they can think of doing, which is insulting other people’s appearance as their pasttime, then ho! I’m not at the losing end here.
Because 10 years from now, asshole and dickhead will still continue to use me as a subject of insult just to justify the idea that my ex cannot get laid. While I’d have gone on to do other things than worry about my fatness.
The only thing I worry about with my fatness is the idea that I cannot get another boy. There, I said it. I worry about my single, chaste life more than what other people really think of me.
And the fact is I am truly disappointed I wasted three years on somebody with such a small heart. And even then, I would’ve thought he have moved on already.
But no, he hasn’t. No worries, he’s earned a very solid memory now.
That I will never ever simply step into a relationship again until I know what that other person’s real character is like.
As for me, God, please, either smite this unnecessary negativity or smite me, since I’m such a painful existence in the very first place.