and uneloquent: Archive

(53)

It is never fun dealing with enigmas. Perhaps at first it will be, fun, as with all novelties. But novelties fade, like how wall paints dulls with the passing of weather, but faster, much faster. Only as long as human patience & whim can stand it; only that long. After that it becomes tiring. You are stretched to every fibre to just stand there and appear civil, heavy to the bones to just...

Apr 15th

4 notes

Sometimes I wish I have a phone number which I can call just to cry and cry and cry. Without any restraint. & sometimes is turning into a lot of times.

Mar 8th

(52)

What I wanted to say but couldn’t is that I want to be the previous person: nice & polite, undemanding & patient, non-chalant & unperturbed by changes or inconsistencies. I only see one way to do that: undoing all these. We are sensitive because we are affected. We are affected because we care. I don’t know why we care. But there must be a way of undoing all these. Until...

Feb 11th

(51)

I find it heartbreaking, not funny or sweet or warm and fuzzy - heartbreaking. Heartbreaking how we send encrypted signals back and forth. I don’t know what we hope to achieve, or not achieve. It is heartbreaking how difficult it is. It is difficult. I don’t know about you, but it is very difficult for me.

Jan 31st

(50)

People who say they will never leave will leave you. People who promise to make you always happy will constantly make you sad. They will do it the way amnesic people do: with an innocent smile as they turn back on their words. It is good that you are used to it.

Oct 19th

(49)

It is true that when I’m sad, I write a lot. I write almost everyday nowadays, despite my poor little mostly keyboard who probably wish I’d leave him alone given the heavy hint he dropped - by not bloody working. Sorry. I don’t usually swear, and say sorry, which is both stupid and pretentious. But it is also true that when I’m sad, I write poorly. It follows a simple...

Oct 14th

(48)

My heart sinks every time. For every glimpse I see. They’re not for me. And for each I don’t. Another place, another time, a different crowd. I wait but I don’t know what I’m waiting for. At times I get a fleeting chance of what I thought I wanted. But as quickly as it passed away, I realised, that I don’t really want it anyway. Doesn’t that make it mutual?...

Oct 10th

(47)

But I want to talk.

Oct 6th

(46)

It’s a weekend of high fever and unnecessary drama. Maybe unnecessary fever and high drama. I keep hoping people would forget what a dramatic person I can be. But playing it on repeat doesn’t help. I suppose our choices reflect our priorities; & how they shift and change. How they slowly do so, whether we choose to admit it or not. I suppose some things are transient, and some...

Sep 30th

(45)

I have a case to present. But nobody to present it to. It is right for one to be angry; but is it not only fair to listen to the whys. Why do we always assume we are right over everyone else. I want to know both sides of everything. But nobody to glean it from. It is right for one to blame the other, but is it not only fair to understand the cause of every act, before simply dismissing it on weak...

Sep 25th

(44)

When I was younger, I have a theory I wholeheartedly subscribed to. That good and bad come in pairs: so my shortcomings are compensated with the blessings. Like the fact that I’m short (despite my other siblings normalness) may be compensated by my good eyesight (which most of them don’t enjoy for long). & I’m secretly reluctant to correct my pronunciation in fear that my...

Sep 20th

(43)

Today was a bad day - so I need to write. People say that the best way to make your day is to make someone’s day. I did the opposite. Hooray. People is not my best skill. Awkwardness is the least of the problem. I’m afraid of the things less apparent. I miss him - and everything conspires to remind me of him, every single day. The way a stranger scrunches his elderly face; the...

Sep 13th

(42)

The void is getting bigger. And it’s turning me increasingly demanding and selfish.

Sep 11th

(41)

My sudden long post made me realise something perhaps very important: how I am rarely inspired to write anymore. Wait. Let me dissect how I write in the first place, did I need inspiration before this. & this is me thinking and writing candidly (another thing that post made me realise). It’s almost a yes-I-obviously-need-inspirations. Sometimes I don’t particularly need one. I...

Sep 4th

(40)

It’s pathetic how early I’m saying this, but I wish I’m younger. I don’t wish to turn back time; or to be born earlier; I want more years to feel young. Which is silly anyway - because time is relative, and I am young, on general terms. But I feel ancient already. People expect maturity from me. I expect maturity from me. Nothing else. I’m losing my idealism: my...

Aug 31st

(39)

When the time comes, nothing matters anymore - only the three as your supply. I want mine to be as endless and growing as his. But what a long way to go. And short a time in hand. Nothing else matters. Nothing. A thought that slaps me daily. I doubt I am the same person. I don’t know weaker or stronger, but different; just different. It’s amazing what you can achieve when you change...

Aug 12th

(38)

She said now is the time to grieve with all my heart. And build my strength bit by bit from there. She said talk, and let it go. She speaks with the authority of an experience, and with the sincerity that reaches over, hoping for an accepting hand. But grieving is a privilege. And letting go is not a choice. Avoiding a fact doesn’t change the fact. Nor casual brushing off of the numerous...

Jul 25th

(37)

I’m certainly not worth the pain.

May 22nd

(36)

Being this age puts me in constant wariness. Expectations just pile up at the corner. Responsibility burgeons daily. Decision-making gets more urgent: how do I even decide in this state of mind? I want to be reasonable but still retain my idealism. There is no point using the “you don’t know anything about life” or “if only I know what I know now, I would…”...

May 13th

(35)

This will be a bitter useless post I have always deem necessary but never get to curate proper enough words to do justice to whatever was. I now realise there will never be proper words. Just splinters, just splinters: “Problems begin/with a splinter lodged in memory. It is hard to remove/much harder to describe.” - Ewa Lipska, from “Splinter” I will start by saying that I was right all along...

May 7th

(34)

Now that I’m well again I want to start over. I suppose I’m so blessed with health I’m often lost in vulnerability when I’m down with illness. But I’m glad. I’m very glad I was ill. He knows best.

Apr 28th

(33)

The mind’s a jumble. I’m too much a burden to people I’d love to bundle myself up and roll down a hill to some spiky bush where people won’t find me. Nobody can promise happiness, only He can. I can never be consistently pleasant - strangely I’d want to, be. Even the self is surprised by the amount of effort I put nowadays, not that it actually equate to any...

Apr 28th

(32)

It rains often these days. The politics are more or less the same. Strange but the country looks less likely to disintegrate now than when I was away. People are more resilient up close than from hearsay: perhaps that is obvious, and thus make apparent my loss of touch with my own country. She looks so sad every time it rains. I now am not sure if people always disappoint because people are...

Apr 11th

(31)

I was suffering from a bout of non-reading. And picked the right book to heal it. It made me lost track of time, so I only read it while commuting to work (and end up missing my stop). I don’t know if it’s because I’ve been through those streets, and it’s the pleasure of recounting familiar names. But more than that is the human perspective he gives. Simple words...

Apr 4th

(30)

The more I have in my plate the more unsure I become of my competence. I worry about being too free, now I wish for some room to breathe. I might’ve said yes too quickly to too many things; my pace now become forced and rushed it might give up at a certain point. Soon. The spillovers are restlessness, paranoia, guilt, the need to be comforted I feel pathetic. I hate to be a burden. I feel...

Mar 25th

4 notes

(29)

It rained yesterday around here. And it rains this morning. I wonder if it is the same rain, stringing its melody all night. I wouldn’t know as I dozed off early. Yesterday’s started with a rage, just as the sun was setting. The sun was strange yesterday; but it was perhaps the clouds that made it so. Like us human: we sometimes become strange because of the relief against those around...

Mar 8th

(28)

I can’t get rid of this buzzing argument playing on repeat inside my brain: I’ve been mooting the exact same idea all this while. Perhaps not out loud, but in heavy hints. Perhaps not as direct; in fear of offending, in refusal of the higher moral claim I obviously don’t deserve, in confusion of where I stand. Yet, does my opinion sit so low in comparison to his. Contemplation...

Mar 6th

(27)

I keep forgetting that this is for real now. I’m supposed to pitch my tent instead of sleeping on the sands with just my water pitch at hand. It’s a mix of reluctance and being flattered for the chance given. The trust given. To say that my masterplan has shattered is a bit dramatic - let’s just admit that it was not that complete despite my long mulling over it, replaying it in...

Mar 5th

(26)

I now wonder what’s the whole point of it. Tawar hati. Semakin tawar hati. This the kind of sadness I was planning to avoid.

Mar 1st

(25)

Maybe that’s what killed us - the lack of art, creativity flowing. Is that what made us bloom so much at school? All those scissor-work, useless colours, name-creating, organising - being crazy and bold. When was the last time I created a font? Too much digital, pre-made things. When was the last time I made a fancy box, wasting all evening planning one, doing another? Beauty becomes so...

Feb 14th

She’s getting much better now :D

Feb 14th

(24)

It deeply frustrates me to be this far away; not that nearness would solve anything - but doesn’t it seems more comforting, to be aware of every flicker of new possibility, to treasure every moment precious. Distance is irony’s powerful tool. No amount of information transferred by that speed of light can replace the physical difference of sharing that same space. The bubbliest songs now sound...

Feb 9th

(23)

Sometimes this feels fleeting, like I’m not here to stay. Looking at how I buy in small portions and never really organise my things proper. As if tomorrow the luggage has to be opened once more and I’ll be off. If things be my way, I might still be living off my suitcase. Like her and her unnamed cat. It must’ve gone into my bones, this constant nomadic thinking. A nomad and yet...

Feb 7th

(22)

I wait for the day when we get bored of all these and watch smilingly as the ideals crash down like towers that suddenly realise they are made of grains. Perhaps it will be less dramatic, perhaps the realisation would come gradually, the way salt water corrode the metal of that gullible car who loyally waited for his drowned master. Slowly and painfully. For that will be the day I can feel safe....

Feb 3rd

(21)

The conversations (naturally) revolve around that same axis no matter how far we diverted from it. Like she said: once it was where are you studying, now it’s when’s the date? Funny. It was warm - time spent with old friends never cease to be interesting. Even the silence was comforting, as if we share the same thinking each time the exciting exchange tone down to knowing smiles: of...

Jan 30th

(20)

I sat down zombie-like fresh from an unplanned slumber still wondering of what I saw when the soul went wandering, with the world waiting for answers to things I wanted beforehand but no longer now. Updating the strangely populated calendar on autopilot, the boxes taste empty. That short gap was a dividing line sharp enough to cut the deceiving tie. When he says waking up is a chance for a fresh...

Jan 27th

(19)

There are things that make me feel young. Like daily tees and jeans, and student cards. Like sneakers and checkered dress in the morning. Like savings for short terms, for travelling on a whim and useless gadgets. Like sampling things, and daring each other. Like sitting anywhere to read. Like wearing clothes that allow me to sit anywhere. Like racing with the clouds, to play in the rain. Like...

Jan 25th

(18)

There are things unshaken. Like trees that weathered the storm. And the old mountains that watch us in old wisdom. And the love of a mother, and the love a father. And friendship built brick by brick; knocked down in parts, built again with those same broken blocks, chiseled debris and all. And my stubbornness. There are things impossible. Like that story we write about our future (the one we...

Jan 13th

(17)

How easily the wall did fall. In a brush of words it crumbled. One would think time is proportionate to the strength it builds. But no. When it evaporates, you are back to where you left off. I am scared of myself.

Dec 28th

(16)

The things I do spontaneously is often wise - despite requiring high amount of understanding afterwards (even I don’t understand why I do things). Wiser than those I do after (too) much contemplation. And yet, I now feel selfish, even more so when it was met with kindness. But promises are unreliable - despite made in the best intentions. And I am unreliable - despite my best intentions. Our...

Dec 11th

(15)

There are many things that we want and cannot get, and over time we make peace with that, shoving aside the nagging feeling of being sadly mediocre and convincing self that this is a show of strength, this ability to accept the hand of fate and give it a firm shake. And settle for second best. I should say “truth is,” and come up with some good rebuttals. But truth is, I never knew...

Dec 2nd

(14)

Naturally I want good English, something that has long awed me. I won’t be offended when corrected; instead delighted. And days of travelling, of sampling new things, mouthing strange languages, of getting lost together with the worn map at hand. Even the planning with little chance of realising is time well spent. I want comfortable silence as we watch the world go by. Silence spoiled not...

Nov 12th

(13)

Word vomit. Spending plenty of time thinking in the background I think I figured it out: it pretty much boils down to the fact that I can’t read your mind and that frustrates me in a major way without exactly realising it. My rational and happy times were often my busiest, when I have so much in my plate I spare no time to turn back and be disappointed. I love that, being preoccupied. When...

Nov 6th

(12)

In upholding the golden rule, I shall try my best to: Be sensitive in my words and actions towards other people; not provoke them and push them into a corner; say sorry when I offend anyone, and mean it; not compare someone with another, and definitely definitely not mention the comparison to both of them - as it basically cuts deep; take most care of the ones I do care; be gentle and...

Oct 28th

(11)

What would it be like if we all say what we really want to say? If we say what we really think? And really feel? Instead of muted signal often misinterpreted that leads to a malady of more misunderstanding accumulating into a snowball which moves so fast we know we won’t survive the crash and yet gape into the rushing wind with the wide-eyed innocence of a victim: What did I do wrong? Then...

Oct 25th

(10)

Strange thoughts of late. Strange habit of wanting to writing everything down. As if everything is coming back, begging to be properly explained. Over-analysing is a bad habit. Why do one admit a weakness and accept it so willingly?; another weakness. Lately the cafe takes shape every so often, the morning tea, near empty space, half-yawn of the university taking its sweet time to arrange its...

Oct 25th

(9)

I got it totally wrong. For one, there are no options. Not for now. Not for the near future. Not for the assumed million years. Not when the one you’re dealing with is your own self. Secondly, there are no easier options. They are all easy at the start, before slowly delayering into the same thing one thought is painful. Each will be painful. Pain is part of the deal. Thirdly, it is not...

Oct 5th

“Being born a woman is an awful tragedy… Yes, my consuming desire to mingle with...”

– —-Sylvia Plath I feel deeply of this.

Oct 2nd

(8)

The questions reoccur in frequent streams nowadays; always the same set, the same inquiring sly look. The answers more inconsistent in confidence: at times sighing of hope, other instances discreetly begging of help, sometimes thrown away nonchalantly, of tire, of frustration, of desperation for real answers. Often the eyes divert from the truth spelled out loud. Is this persistence a sign of...

Oct 2nd

(7)

I find dealing with elusive things hard. Vague statements, unspelled expectations. It is too much a guessing work. Am I supposed to say something? Is there a move to make? How is it cold to be indifferent to indifference? Why are we expected to act on something we don’t expect to expect? Say it out proper and we can start there. But one should not love things definite: the way one hates the...

Oct 1st