Inspirations from my Baby Niece

Went to the baby shower of my niece.

Babies are such amazing creatures--they smell nice, incredibly soft and chubby, like marshmallows and their tiny hands and feet.

And when they smile, it is as if they tell you with their smiles, "I come from heaven/fairytales."

Like all newborn, my baby niece is cute by default. 

She grabbed my finger, smiled at me and stared at me with her round innocent eyes.

The moment her tiny hand grabbed my finger, she eased me a bit.

It is not the baby that makes me feel uncomfortable and alienated.

God knows I'm most comfortable with children in these occasions.

It is everyone around her that I am not at ease with.

No, I don't hide in corners to play with my phone.

I take a deep breathe, walk in looking relaxed, mingle and chat, smile and talk. 

That is my mission of the night.

But the truth is, the voice in my head that urges me to leave was louder than the party itself.

Got myself a drink, chatted with a bunch of people on boring cliche topics, walked to my cousin's wife,  played with the baby, handed the wife an envelope of cash...most of the mission was accomplished when she took the envelope.

The way all of a sudden she smiled so broadly after the envelope landed on her fingertips makes me sick.

I don't want to look at her for a second more.

I looked at my baby niece instead--this innocent newborn whose world is still purely beautiful, new and exciting.

No, she won't be able to see the dark side of the world as she is one of the lucky ones.

She would be pampered like a princess. With all my heart, I hope she won't be spoiled like my cousin.

And I know exactly what's in front of her as she grows.

There won't be that much of laughter in her family, 

fun things are not always allowed, 

her choices are limited, 

she doesn't need to study hard, 

she is already born with a high-ranking post in the family business whether or not she can do business,

the "family friends" are the business partners

and so on.

I have seen this too many times. 

Basically most of the kids in the family live this pattern.

The moment I realized this pattern, I respect my parents even more.

They want something more than this, they want to break the cycle.

They want laughter in the house, the warmth and love, hugs, real conversation and even heated argument and tears, followed by sincere apologies and hugs.

Things that are raw and real.

A family that is human.

I was there at the banquet, people asked me about my job, interested in whether I have insiders' news and connections.

Motives are such turn-offs. 

And frankly speaking, most people are pretty bad with disguising their motives.

The only message I sent them is: I'm happy with my job. I'm not interested in your business. Good luck.

In a sea of around 200 guests, I looked around and the sight saddened me--all familiar faces, none I can have a real conversation or a good laugh with. 

(Maybe except the kids, they are happy to see me and I do like being surrounded by kids showing me their drawings and asking me questions.)

I found myself looking around several time, perhaps I was unconsciously looking for my family and my  cousin who was like a brother to me.

The overwhelming loneliness is so immense and unbearable that I lost words and remained very quiet for some time, until some other guests came to talk to me and out of basic manners, I am left with no choice but to respond.

It is almost a year since my cousin passed away and still the sense of loss and grief is there, painful and unhealed.

Like any other loss of human life, his death is supposed to teach us something about life and be an inspiration to us in living a better life.

As I overheard people around me talking about Grand Cru Classe red wine, investment, love affairs, gossips and basically everything that has nothing to do with the newborn or life, I feel the invisible wall between me and my so-called family thickens.

How ironic it is to be a complete stranger to those who I am related by blood, while I can be close at heart with people who were once strangers but now close with me.

And even more ironic, that I cannot have a real conversation with some of my family while I am opening up to readers who I have never met and perhaps never will.

Isn't life interesting?

Another family event coming up, a wedding, let's see if I get a different inspiration next week.

I hope it's gonna be something more pleasant.

Love,

N

A New Stage

Dear readers,

Sorry that I was absent for quite some time.
Thank you for sticking around. I'm back.

Sometimes, people are surprisingly adaptive, aren't we?
Every time I am confronted with changes or something new, I find myself fearfully clinging on the old and usual, saying things like "I can't image what it is like to (do/ have sth new). Is it possible that I live without (sth old)?"
Part with the fear and embrace changes--something that I am learning and trying to do.

It has only been two to three months since my "new" life as a working adult started, and I'm already quite used to it now.
Not too long ago, most of my spendings were coming from my parents and my savings.
Now, I spend what I earn, not just on shopping, but also bills of all sorts.
It is not difficult to notice that I'm entering a new stage in my life.


I am glad that my sense of security is coming back, along with work and a routined life, but at the same time, I caution myself not to fall into the trap of a boring life.

Along with the glory of "growing up", I found answers to some of the questions I always have in mind.
Questions like: why people no longer appreciate their job and life? Why do people feel bored and what turns people boring?
I figured out why whenever I ask my friends "how's work?" or "how's life?", some of them always give me the same answer--"as usual".

If you flip through my daily schedule, you will find out that I live a routine like this, 5 days each week:
Wake up, get dressed, make breakfast, hop onto the bus, arrive at office early, work, lunch, work, lave work, go home, eat, relax, sleep---basically the same old routine that 99% of the workforce is having.
Well, maybe I don't work overtime and it's much better than people, but still, the idea and the hard fact is that:
I have a boring life too.

At the moment, I am really happy with my job.
But I still hear a faint voice somewhere in my head asking, "is this it? Do you settle with what you have or do you want more?"
Looking back, I'm already quite amazed by how far I have went.
But my contentment should never be the reason why I don't keep going further.

If I stop right here, getting laid-back to enjoy the thrills that come along with a new stage, I won't grow up or at least I won't be growing up to my full potentials.

Dear readers,
Is your life becoming a routine now?
Are you in your comfort zone, fearful of changes while secretly wanting them or wondering how it would be if you dare to make some bold changes?
Is there anything you don't like about your life now?

If you answer any of the question with a "yes", I think we share something similar--time for new goals and challenges!

Sometimes life forces us to start new chapters.
But sometimes, we have to be the ones who lift ourselves to a new stage.
And I guess it is better that we do it ourselves when the choice is still ours to make, am I right?

Love,
N

P.S. It's good to be back. :)

Madness

These days, whenever I'm asked how I am feeling,
the answer in my head is "um...I think there is a Hulk inside me trying to break out. Help me."
while words that spill out from the tip of my tongue is "I'm okay, thank you."

Hypocrisy.

Even the tinniest thing makes me burn with anger.

For example that mega size rubber duck that is in town.
The madness is not the rubber duck itself, but the crowd that flooded the district just to see that rubber duck.

People in our time are the weirdest--they get impressed by basically everything.
That stupid game Candy Crush, a mega size rubber duck...how old are they really?

Even though I get angry, I didn't let it out.
No shouting, no screaming, no crying, no throwing a temper...just nothing and nowhere to channel it.
This anger just stays inside me, corrodes and gobbles me up alive.

There must be something wrong with me.
Is it stress, frustration, sadness, anger, or just the pure madness after mixing everything together?


Other than this anger coming from nowhere, the inner devil in me is driving me insane as well.
I wanna do all the bad and evil things.
I wanna destroy.

Why is it that the intolerably incomprehensibly bad things are always ineluctably, irresistibly fun to do?
The temptations creep underneath your skin, foil along a trail of synapses, pierce though your little brain cells which are cringing themselves in vain to stay morally vigilant...
But before you know it, you've already done it.

Why is it that doing the seemingly 'wrong' things always brings that inexplicably good feeling?
And they turn you into this person with 'stories to tell', making you so much more interesting, mysterious and attractive.

Pain and pleasure go hand in hand.
But sometimes, pleasure come and go and leaves the pain behind.

Looking at the scratch marks, I am terrified--what have I done?
With my fingertips, I gently trace the red, slightly swollen scratch marks one by one, hoping to ease the pain.
At that moment, I am most certain that there must be a monster in me.
Just an ugly, pure evil monster.
And it makes me a little scared...of myself.



Love,
N

A Working Girl or a Superwoman?

'Brunch and shopping? I'm free...oh! I'm not...'
Okay I'd like to think that I am still free for brunch and shopping, but if you read the previous post, it's clear that things have changed.

So, here is a day in the life of...me, March 2013.

I wake up early.
I hear my alarm 30 minutes after it went off at 7, hop out of bed and get ready.
After freshening up, the first thing I is to update my Tumblr  getting some fresh air outdoors and hear birds sing.
Then I have my breakfast quietly, because I still feel sleepy after 8 hours of sleep enjoying the morning calm after a quick shower.
I wanna crawl back on my bed. I'm ready for a brand new, exciting day.

It's 7:45a.m. I get back to my room, open my closet, thinking that I should have picked my outfit the night before knowing exactly what I want to wear.
I spend a minimum of  less than 15 mins thinking of an outfit  dressing up.
As much as I want to wear a maxi dress,  I put on a simple and chic outfit for work, comprise of the first pieces of clothing I see when I open my closet.
I put my hair up in a loose bun or a pony tail, as I have over 50% of chance that I have a bad hair day.
And of course, makeup to cover my dark circles, even though it doesn't seem to work very well.

It's 8a.m. and I leave my place, hop on to the minibus and then the insanely crowded  MTR which drives me crazy.
I get there at 8:30a.m., half an hour earlier than my office hours.
I like my office, it's right above the MTR, so convenient.
Once I'm back in my office, I start making tea  working right away.

It’s 9:00 and a colleague brings me all the newspapers I need.
An email alert pops up to remind me that I have a meeting in 45 mins..
Oh my! I totally forgot about that!  Great! I am totally ready.
In less than 20 mins, I use the speed of light to read through everything do a re-cap with the documents I already prepared.

Then I start getting myself ready and go to the conference room with a blank mind.
I always dash to the conference room when I see my boss coming out from his room  get there early.

After the meeting, I have to re-schedule my priorities of tasks which means I can never finish the newspapers that are piling up on my desk.
I am super productive so I can always finish my morning tasks before lunch, 1 p.m.

Usually at around 12:45, I start counting down for lunch.
Time for lunch!
As soon as I leave the elevator, I see many others rushing for lunch-- damn! Could I still get a seat in the restaurant?! And I have to wait for my food for god knows how long! What a vibrant and lively city!
Since I'm a boring person To simplify my life, I usually go to the same place.
I have quite a healthy diet now.
I still have half of my lunch break left, so I rest and relax in my office and really enjoy some private time.

After lunch, half the stack of newspapers is still on my desk, unfortunately.
While I read the newspapers, my fingers are stained with ink, I wash my hands frequently, so frequent that I'm afraid I'll have obsessive-compulsive disorder.
After the clippings and analysis, I clear them out as I like to keep my office as organized as possible because I am trying very hard to not to be as messy as I naturally am.

Around 4pm, I start stressing myself out because I just realize that I still have some un-finished tasks finish everything and have a break.
If I run out of things to do which rarely happens, I start writing up or even clearing the next day's to-do list, I wish.

At 5: 30, everyone is still working and I start thinking if I stay for another 5 mins  packing up and leave.
I don't know why they always stay behind till late---I am always leaving pretty on time.
I have a life, and even if I love what I do, I need to keep everything in balance.
That said, I turn off the lights of my office, say goodbye to everyone and leave my office with exhaustion a smile.

Dear readers,
Not all the crossed-out parts is what the 'real me' do or think, and of course I can't have my energy up for all day long either.
I'm sure my daily work routine is like a zillion others', but I want to point out one thing:
Attitude changes everything. It really does matter and makes a whole lot of difference.

Having a positive mind means you are more efficient and productive, you do your work better and enjoy it more and you get along with people better--isn't it all we want from work?
So, don't forget to smile and keep your head up!
Remind yourself to discover something new each day and never stop learning!
I do enjoy working my ass off--I believe in the value of hard work and actually EARNING something with effort.

Whether you are a worker ant or a superman (or superwoman), it's yours to choose.
I hope this post gives you a bit of power and support.
Love life. :)

Love,
N

A Cruel Moment of Realization

No matter how exhausted I am after the Chinese New Year celebrations, I still don't fall sound asleep.

In the middle of a quiet night, my phone vibrated--probably just because a random promotional junk mail landed in my mailbox.

That buzz woke me up. 

I was completely and wide awake the moment that buzz hit my eardrums.

I opened my eyes and found myself balled up in fetal position in bed.

It was then when I realized something...

Chinese New Year is all about family.

This Chinese New Year is already so different this year----with the absence of my cousin.

If home is where the heart is, what will Chinese New Year be like next year?

I don't even wanna think about it.

My family has been the source of my sense of security throughout my life. 

And I'm sure it is gonna be, for as long as I live.

Not only them, but also people around me and those I love and hold dear.

But I can't help feeling that the earth under my feet is shaking.

The mantle of my life is shifting--perhaps slowly but things are definitely changing.

Whether the changes are for the better or for the worse, I do not know.

And I have faith that while life has plenty of unpleasant things, life is gonna surprise me in good way too.

But it wasn't the changes that hit me hard, it was the realization that I was balled up into fetal position that alarmed me.

Yes, the position itself.

It is the fetal position that I realize my body just screamed in my face, telling me that I have been feeling so insecure, weak and vulnerable lately.

And this is what bothers me.

Still balled up on my bed, I snuggled up tighter as if the position can shield me from the sense of insecurity that comes from within.

That moment, together with the silence and darkness of the night, I felt terribly lonely.

Eventually, I fell asleep as the moment of loneliness gave way to physical exhaustion.

The next day, the sense of loneliness and insecurity lingered for a while, until I get dressed to attend yet another gathering on this festive period of the year.

How ironic.

Dear readers, sorry, I didn't mean to ruin the festive mood of Chinese New Year.

I just have to write it down because it bothers me too much.

Anyway, wish you a happy Chinese New Year.

Wish you happiness, good health, lots of love and abundance of blessings in the year of Snake.

Thanks for reading. :)

Love,

N

Letters & Cards

I think I'm a logophile, a lover of words.
Words are simply fascinatingly beautiful----the way they look and sound, the way they are structured and placed and the way they magically carry and express meanings and feelings.
And I like to play with words.

How can I talk about the art of words without talking about writing?
Writing is an art which transform intangible things into something so tangible like words on paper.
But such a transformation is bizarre when you think about it--when the heavy intangible things are distilled into something tangible yet light and paper-thin.

I have a soft spot for anything hand-written.
I love how emotion-charged and intimate they are.
But sometimes, I find hand-written letters so intimate that they are almost provocative.
Sometimes, letters are so intimate that I'm scared of them--both sending and receiving.

A hand-written letter is so...how should I put it?
Tangible,
touchable and
traceable.

Hand-written notes and letters are the traces of people's existence in our lives, or ours in theirs.
They are so permanent and unchangeable.
What was written is gonna be there no matter how many times you read it.
But unlike the permanent ink stain on paper, feelings and people change.
Scary, isn't it?


And who knows what people do with our hand-written letters that we poured our hearts into?
Maybe the receiver might dig the letters out some years later and find them ridiculous & hilarious and throw them away as if they never mattered?
Or some have their letters boxed up and hidden, wanna throw them away but never have the guts to?
Who knows what people we loved would become, those people we held dear and who held us dear?

While guys dream about gadgets that could do everything, I dream of things that are less ambitious.
For example, a certain type of paper.
Is there a kind of paper that will naturally disappear or vaporize if not touched in a long time?

1) If people don't want me to leave traces of my existence in their lives or vice versa, that would be the type of people I would use to write letters.
2) This type of paper would tell me who treasures my hand-written notes and who doesn't.
3) I would allow my strong emotions to flow, pour them all out in writings without the fear for embarrassment afterwards. It is the type of paper that I will use words so absolute like 'forever', 'always' and 'never'.

I just had a dream in which I was pouring my heart out word after word, sentence after sentence.
I was writing the most romantic (or disgusting for some) letter, though I don't know who I was writing to.

'Your voice stays in my mind. Every word you said is my treasure. I find relief in every thought of you. Every pore on my skin longs for your touch. There is not a single day that goes by without me thinking of you... '

It went on and on.
And the worst line finally came----'I love you, forever and always.'

" 'Forever and always'?"
"I don't use such words."
Even in my dreams, I am fear of not being able to deliver my promise and the fear for embarrassment which follows when someone reads my handwritten messages.
At the same time, I am aware of the fact that there is no guarantee in life.
I am so clear about that, even in my dreams.
Are these reason why people stop writing to each other now? I mean with pen, paper and ink, not internet, computer and keyboard.

Being so clear-minded means I woke up from the dream before I sign the letter.

I woke up, feeling the urge to write letters to people I love and hold dear---family, close friends and my love.
Along with that desire to write was the same thought: could there be a special kind of paper that will disappear or vaporize if no one reads them for a long time?
Would someone please invent them? Please?

This time, a soft voice in my head gave me the answer.
Another example of how my brain always amaze me in the most unexpected ways and time.
The soft voice said,
'The answer is skin.
Write your love on skin, with your fragrance and the warmth of your touch.
No permanence. No trace.
But what you write and your love would leave a mark in the heart----forever and always.'

Ok, an answer that almost rhymes.
Nice job, brain.

'Dear self, you are pathetically romantic but nonetheless, it's a fantastically creative answer.
Problem solved.'
I smiled. And started my day with a decision of giving myself a challenge.

Challenge of the year:

Write more handwritten letters (or cards and little notes).

Dear readers, when was the last time you wrote a letter/card/note to someone?

And remember how precious it feels to receive something handwritten?

Sometimes doing things the old-fashioned way is the best way, isn't it? 

:)

Love,
N

P.S. Just pick my outfit for the first day of work. White shirt, blue pencil skirt and a color block cardigan with red strips and a patch of blue around my waist to 'fool the eyes' for a better figure.
Navy, red and white.
Um....the inspiration is France (it could be the American flag too!)
But wait, shouldn't I be inspired by Canada? Oops!
Not today, I like my outfit :)

A Dream Within a Dream

I had a great dinner and made a fairly ugly but still tasty apple pie.
I was tired but contented.
It was supposed to be a good night of sleep.

But something woke me up in the middle of the night--I heard myself crying.

I was having a dream.
To be more accurate, a dream within a dream.
In my dream, I was dreaming about my cousin.
And when I woke up (still in the dream), I was telling my mother that I have been dreaming of my cousin a lot these days.

The dream looked very real, only except in reality I don't go around crying and telling people what breaks my heart or what drives me crazy.
Well, maybe this is what I'm doing now, here.

I was in both sorrow and frustration, much like a spoiled kid crying in front of her mum asking for a new toy.
Pretty lousy comparison, in terms of comparing a life to a toy.
But you know I'm only talking about the feeling of sorrow and frustration.
Not only do they combine, they also magnify each other.
That feeling hurts.
It hurts so bad.

In my dreams I was almost shouting as I cry, something that I very rarely do in real life.
Why do we do things we normal won't do in dreams only?
Why couldn't I even cry and shout in real life?
Do I not even have the courage to do that?

In my dream I spilled out everything I feel about my cousin's death.

I hate this feeling that I'm dying to see him again but not being able to, no matter how much I miss him.
I hate not daring to even say his name because it puts me on the verge of breaking down.

His face, his smile, his words and those happy childhood memories.
I hate when memories emerge from the night around me.
No, not only at night.
But anytime, anywhere and for no reason.
Memories just creeps up on me as they wish.
Both the good pleasant ones and the ones less pleasant.

Whether or not it's a pleasant thought or not, I can't help having tears blur my vision every time I think of him.
A thought of my cousin.
Tears blurring my sight.
Memories become so vivid as if I watch them replay with my own eyes again.
Hurts me so bad that I have to close my eyes and shut it out.
Tears drop and roll down my cheeks.
It happens like that every time I thought of him.
Every single time.

I hate the blunt cruel truth that he existed but not anymore, especially when memories are still this fresh and vivid.
I feel helpless and angry, when death sort of turns my cousin, a real person with flesh and blood, into an imaginary person who never existed.
He was there in my life.
He was THERE! But where is he now?
I am still helpless and frustrated months after his death.

One day, we will be gone. And then life goes on and people move on.
The world doesn't seem to change.
But it's never the same.
It's never the same anymore.

Does it even matter if a person exists?
Will I be remembered? For how long?
It scares me.

The moment I poured out everything in my dream, I was in silence.
Just empty silence.
The kind of silence that makes you wanna hold your breathe because breathing is simply too loud.

I spilled out all my feelings and now what?
Does it change anything?
Does it bring him back to life?
Does it make me feel any easier?
You and I both know the answer--nothing's gonna change.
Even in my dream, I knew the answer.

Perhaps it's not the sound of myself crying that woke me up, perhaps it's reality that woke me up--the reality that I lost him forever.
I opened my eyes only to see that I was surrounded by the darkness of the night.
I was hushed by the silence of the night which seems to tell me 'crying and shouting: forbidden.'
The moment I was awake, I was also awaken to the irony of dreams and reality--when I could be so genuinely expressive of my emotions in my dream while not having the courage to do the same in reality.

Human brain is such amazing thing.
In the midst of my confusion between dream and reality, and being consumed by all the powerful emotions, my brain could just pull out lyrics randomly with ease.
The lyrics adds to the irony, my confusion and sadness,

'Why live life from dream to dream and dread the day when dreaming ends?'

Love,
N

P.S. Today is the type of day when I couldn't leave my bed or my place.
Was supposed to be out to get something and for work out, but the thought 'maybe I will do that in just a moment' left me spent the entire day at home and screwed up all my plans for the day.
Day wasted.

On Making Mistakes and Being One

Recently I went to an interview, an easy one.
One of the questions goes more or less like this:
'To err is human, please tell us some of the mistakes that you have made in your life, how you feel and what you do in response to them. It can be mistakes you made when you were studying or working.'

They only wanted to know how I deal with crises and manage unfavorable circumstances at work.
Somehow this question came into my mind again, for a different reason.

You know what?
Making mistakes is perhaps not the worst---being one is.

Have you ever felt like you are a mistake?
No, I am not referring to an unexpected child.
I'm referring to that subjective feeling of which one has--the delicate mixture of being both inadequate and excess at the same time.
And also the guilt and self-blame that come along with it.
Sometimes, even knowing that I'm blessed and loved, I feel that life is a series of mistakes.
Worse, sometimes I feel like I am a mistake myself.

Feel like I shouldn't have appeared in certain people's lives.
Sometimes I imagine if people I know would be better-off without me.
What if my existence is a mistake by default?

Whether or not I'm a good person or a bad one is not relevant, it has nothing to do with me being helpful or not.
It doesn't even matter what I do or what I don't.
The simple fact of being at people's lives at the wrong timing can be a mistake by default already.
Pretty much like the idea of 'original sin', a concept which I detest.
Oh, I fucking hate that idiotic bullshit of original sin.
But, at the same time, I'm feeling almost exactly the same thing.
How ironic.

Sometimes I feel doomed and touching upon people's lives a mistake, for two reasons:
1) My action or inaction would turn into a mistake sooner or later.
2) My insignificance. My action or inaction would not change anything.

Sounds like that stupid hamster running inside the wheel.
1) Whether or not it runs on it doesn't matter
2) The spinning wheel is gonna spit it out sooner or later. The hamster is gonna fall, just a matter of time.
3) It doesn't matter how hard it tries or how fast it runs. It is always stuck there, on the very same spot.

Do the hamster not learn anything?
Do I not learn anything?
Why do I feel like I'm stuck at the same cycle and same sort of problems over and over again?

Around this time last year, I was saying, 'don't be afraid of being wrong. Enjoy making mistakes! Life would be boring if you spend your life only doing the right things.'
And today the opposite. Don't know if my thought or mindset has changed but at least how I currently feel
I don't expect myself to change the world, but at the same time I don't expect myself to be pressing/ a source of trouble.
So, tell me, what has changed: the situation or me?

Guess I should blame everything on myself, since I'm the one who said 'there is something wrong with the female brain.'
Well, at least there's one thing I am right about.
No one is to be blamed. Just me and my female brain.
Sorry, I'm just a woman.

Love,
N

Oh Deer!

If, just if, you can have any wild animal on earth as pet, what would you choose?
Being a wild child, I have a hard time answering my own imaginary question--it is simply too difficult to limit my answer to one!
But I can be very sure to tell you that among all the wildlife animals, I'd love to have a fawn or a deer.
I know, I know.
Living in a semi-tropical city where living space for human is already scarce and pricey, having a pet fawn is not only expensive but also a ridiculously selfish and inhumane act.
But this is just an imagination.
Yes, I want a fawn, please.

My love for this graceful animal started since I was small.

Their round, dark, innocent and watery eyes.
Their slender long legs.
The way they jump--so effortlessly, so swiftly.
The colour of their fur, and the white spots.
The antlers male deers have, those majestic antlers and their beautiful angles.
Their gentleness, timidness and shyness.
Their quiet and gentle nature.
Their grace.

I remember watching Bambi when I was very small.
Thanks to Bambi, I came to getting the idea that fawns have spots as camouflage to help them hide and keep them safe.
Knowing that I was also very small and my mum called me a baby, I thought, 'maybe I have spots on my back too, just that I couldn't see them!'
I remember lying among cushions on the sofa, thinking that I could blend in and my mum couldn't see me.
Of course, she found me with ease and asked what I was doing.
I pointed at Bambi.
Wasn't I silly?
Somehow this personal anecdote of mine always makes me wonder if my future baby would do the same.

Those majestic horns

Another memory about deers happened on one of my trips to Japan. Also when I was a small kid.
It was the first time that I saw deers. Almost a dozen of them.
It was somewhere near a shrine, a rather quiet and unusual sightseeing spot.
It was a cold winter and my hands were cold even under the gloves.
My parents bought a few grilled/ roasted sweet potatoes from the stalls nearby, as snacks and also to warm our hands.
Those deers then slowly appear before us--they knew we are gonna share.
They are larger and taller than I was.
I didn't know what to do except standing close to my parents.
But god! Those animals are beautiful.
They moved and walked so gracefully, came before us and did something very unexpected--they bowed.
Apparently these animals learned this trick to get food.
But me as a little girl, fascinated by their grace and gentleness, thought they are trying to be friends with us.
My mum encouraged me to feed a smaller deer with a small piece of sweet potato put on my palm.
I did.
The doe walked near. Her eyes were dark but bright and round.
She bowed, ate the potato and licked my fingers.
I still remember vividly that the way she licked my fingers--gently, as if she was saying 'thank you'.

Maybe my fascination with deers has a lot to do with how I innocently perceived them in my childhood.
But the thing is, I grow up still fascinated
Deer becomes one of the things that I draw.
I have two deer figures as decorations in my bedroom, bought from FrancFranc.
Sometimes I search for information about this lovely animal, learning that they make very loving pets.

I found out that an iconic lady kept a pet fawn which would accompany her on her grocery trips, slept by her side, followed her around and considered her the mother.
This iconic lady was equally graceful and cute.
She was Audrey Hepburn. And the fawn was named Pippin.

I also found out a beautiful artwork, by Peregrine Honig, called the Twin Fawns and the sad story behind them. (Peregrine Honig's website, click here)

The Twin Fawns

These sleeping beauties look as if they are peacefully and quietly sound asleep.
Their closeness, the way they were positioned--nose-to-nose.
They are beautiful; gentle, tender, sweet.
They look so fragile.
But the sad thing is: they were never born.
The mother doe was dead and her body was by the side of a road.
Someone found her and wanted to dispose her body properly. Then they found out she was pregnant.
Having twins is a rare thing for deers.
Amazed by their beauty and rarity, the full-grown fawns were taken out and preserved.
A say story and a beautiful work of art, nature's beautiful work of art.

So, readers, I picked fawn to be my imaginary dream pet.
Oh dear (or deer), what is yours?

Love,
N

Hello, New Phone!

While almost everybody is using smartphones, I still cling on to the conventional ones.
Those with button keyboards, if you still remember them.
My love for button keyboards is probably as intense as my love for paper-tearing.
Same in a sense that both of them are weird obsessions that seems like I'm the only one who stubbornly have them.

The idea of using touchscreen is, at least the way I see it, bizarre.
Fingertips is one of the body parts which has the strongest sense of touch.
Why on earth would people choose to lose their sense of touch, in favour of a smooth screen that gives no sensation at all?
Up to this point, I still find it incomprehensible.
And when I bring this question to people around me, no one seem to have an idea and an interest to solve it.
'Are you from another time or planet?' Sometimes they say it, other times it is written all over their faces.

So, me having a brand new smartphone, one of the latest models, has enough shock factor for people who know me.

A short conversation between me and my 14 year-old brother:
Me: Felix, teach me how to use the S3. (eagerly, like a child with a new toy)
Him: Yea, right. You must be kidding. You don't use those things.
Me: Oh, really? (raised an eyebrow as I took the phone out and flashed it in front of him)
Him: What?! I can't imagine you using that.
Me: Well, believe it or not, BRO. (evil grin)
Him: Ok, I'm not teaching you anything.
Me: Pleeeeeeease. (completely change of attitude, miserable)

The phone itself shocks me as much as I shocked my brother.
Readers, don't laugh at me: I lost count of the number of times I gasped or screamed when I experiment with the new gadget.
Yes, it's real: I literally lost count. And I literally gasped and screamed.
With both horror and/or amazement.
All for a damn phone.

It happened like this:
When I set up the apps for social networking or communications, everybody's' pictures and statuses popped up with a sec, I gasped.
I feel connected, in a bad way. Or I should put it as 'exposed'.
I prefer keeping a distance from most of the people I know.
Now they are all there! Bombarding me with their where-abouts and what-abouts.
Ok, way too accessible, no thanks.

I let out another gasp when I got some texts.
To distinguish the sounds of my phone from my family members' phones, I randomly picked something.
So when I got a msg, my phone let out a loud bird's chirp and vibrated.
It scared me.

For people who know me in person, you'll know that my another weird obsession is that I don't like phones that produce noise.
I don't really like it when mobile phones ring.
Odd enough, I'm okay with my home phone ringing.
I guess one of the reasons is that I never find a suitable ringtone.

Apparently my family thinks it's funny and cute that I gasp and scream like an idiot, so entertaining that they left me to experiment with the gadget that is smarter than me.
Having a phone that is smarter than a human being is a pretty weird thing.
But not as scary as those artificial intelligence robots.
(It is so wrong to create sth that look so similiar to human beings. Those things creep me out.)
I'd compare me having a 'smart' phone to a man being emasculated, even though I'm not a man and would certainly not know how it feels to be emasculated.
Ouch!

Oh, talking about men, I have no idea why electronic gadgets only seem to operate smoothly in the hands of a man.
Maybe they operates well in everyone's hands. Except mine.
I swear I did the same thing, be it setting up wifi or the new phone, but nothing happened.
But once a man touches it, magic happens.
While men exclaimed, 'voila! There it is', I grumbled, 'what?!'

Another thing that made me surrender is texting.
I shouldn't have laughed at iPhone users who make typos when they text.
Or in some cases, extremely funny mistakes after the autocorrect.
I didn't know I have clumsy fingers myself!
Can't help but 'urgh!' when I typed 5 letters and have 3 of them wrong.
As if this isn't bad enough, I continued to make a series of txts with typos.
Clumsy fingers on touchscreen keyboard VS obsession with perfect spelling.
Who won? Let's say I compromised.

Okay, that's about my little struggle with modern day technology.
Don't get me wrong.
I'm truly excited about new things that will make my life slightly easier.
Just that, like every beginning or change, it takes a bit effort and time to adapt and adjust.
This is one of the many days that I feel like I was born in the wrong era.

Love,
N

La Tristesse Durera Toujours

'La tristesse durera toujours', a line that I borrow from Vincent van Gogh to describe how it feels to suffer the eternal loss when a beloved person pass away.
To translate it back to English, it means 'the sadness will last forever.'
I write this post bit by bit on different days and don't feel ready to post it even now.
Pretty much like letting go of my beloved cousin--I'm not ready.
There is still so much that I want to say to him. I miss him.

Dear S,
Where are you?
We all miss you so much, so much that I can almost hear everybody's hearts and thoughts thinking about you.
But at the same time, we miss you so much that we are afraid to even say your name.
I know this is a lie to myself, but I'd like to believe that you went to the airport and are traveling around the world.
Just that the trip is going to be a very very long one. And you forgot to say goodbye.

You had seen so many of us before you left, none of us is worthy for you to stay?
Not even for a slightly bit longer?
I told you about the pain of losing someone this way, especially someone dear.
Now I can tell you, it really is one of the most painful and devastating things one could ever experience.
Absolutely no one should lose someone like this.
How could you do this to us?
I told you that I've got glimpses of how it feels to be depressed and hopeless.
I told you that I would understand.

Remember when you announced to the family that I sleep so little because I was working hard for my honors project?
In case I haven't told you, I got a very good grade. And I still sleep very little.
This time because of you.
I have got loads of questions in my head that I can never find answers to, as well as the unfulfilled promises that you made.

You said we could go out for dinner if I get rejected by the graduate schools.
You said we could revise and take the civil service exam together.
Why don't you keep the promises?
Have you forgotten all these promises you made to your sister?
I very much want to be angry and mad at you for forgetting about our plans, but I can't.

S, was it planned or was it the blinding, irrational rush of pain?
Why did you want to take away your own life?
Was it the urge to escape from fear and pain or the exact opposite, the courage to put an end to all these sufferings?
They say it takes courage to kill yourself.
I think they just don't know what a suicide is all about.
It is about making a desperate choice between two type of fears and terrors:
the fear from the suicide method and the fear for continue to live.

It is not that death all of a sudden becomes an appealing option.
No one desires to jump off a bridge. All of us are afraid of great heights.
So, what makes people kill themselves is the other factor: the lack of desire to live.
When being alive is worse than falling from great heights, falling to death becomes the slightly less scary option.
You must have felt trapped and felt that living is way more terrifying than falling, weren't you?

What was the moment like for you?
Was it a relief or how did you make the decision?

I guess this fear and sadness blinded you from considering an important fact: 

life is terrible but we are with you.

How could you ever forget this?

With all my abilities to make myself believe in something, I'd like to believe that you are now in a place where my close friend describes as 'a place with peace, no worries and no more pain'.

All of this sorrow we go through right now, all the tears and all the memories and thoughts flashing in my head on the sleepless nights are due to one simple reason: we love you.

I like to imagine that all these love we have for you would turn into the 'materials' to build a very beautiful place for you to rest, wherever you are.

It would be a place where you can smile so brightly like you used to when we are small, a place with a lot of parrots that we used to feed together in Australia, a place with dogs because you loved dogs so much.

Tell me, is it a beautiful place?

Cousin, thank you for being my dearest brother.

The loss is eternal and the sadness will last, but so do the love and happy memories. :)

Love,

N

My dear readers,

Life is difficult. Sometimes we just feel like we can't bear it anymore, we don't see hope and we just wanna give up.

Well, I admit that I have gone through times like that and I did considered different ways to give up.

But don't give up, hang in there.

There are still ways to get out of what is trapping and suffocating you.
You may not see a way out now, but as we create our own life paths, maybe the change is just around the corner.
Please be patient and have a bit of faith and hope.

If it is really bad, please please please talk to anyone and seek help.

Remember: You are not alone and you are loved. :)

Love,

N

How to Survive Unwanted Conversation As a Fresh Graduate

Went to two dinner parties this weekend.
One birthday party for 200 and another much smaller Father's Day family gathering.
I'm glad to share with you that I survived both parties very well. Phew! :)

As a fresh graduate, the single most scary question to be asked is,
'so what are you going to do next?'.
Or more specifically, 'how's job search? What job are you looking for?'

Well, if I made it into psychology, I wouldn't have to go through such awkward moments.
But the truth is: I didn't get into Psychology and I have to deal with those questions all the time, which is why I want to be absent from or escape from social events.
I feel bad about myself.
That familiar feeling that I'm a failure--a recurring and terrible feeling that I cannot get used to.

I know, people ask about you because they care about you, but sometimes it is the concern that pressurizes.
I have thought of ways to avoid be asked questions.
Examples:
1) Stop being well-dressed. Ever feel like you wanna disappear or become invisible? Yes? Me too. So I thought if I stop dressing up and kick off my high heels, I could just blend in so well that people won't notice me anymore.
Result: Fail. Those who wanna talk to you are still gonna catch you, especially very persistent (/annoying) ones, they can always hunt you down somehow. The fact that you are not dressed up makes you feel even worse.
2) Be absent or escape. It's good to take breaks every now and then, but you can't do this all the time.

There are other ways like speaking rubbish but pretend that you are saying something meaningful, excuse yourself for toilet trips or phone calls, etc etc.
All of these little tricks doesn't help me to get rid of that anxiety, awkwardness and feeling of 'failure'.
So I thought, 'why bother to live in such a tiring manner?'

I survived the 1st dinner easily. Mostly because there were many guests and I was too unimportant.
It is very easy to hide or 'swim' among the guests.
Get a drink, mingle for a while, move on, disappear to washroom, come back and talk to someone else, smile and disappear. Repeat the process.
People are certainly aware of your presence, they talked to you for a while but they didn't have enough time to find out your future plans. Awesome.

The 2nd one was a bit more difficult because it was a family gathering.
My tactics for the night:
1) Find a topic that THEY can do the talking while I just listen (or pretend to listen)
Good ones: News. Anything related to money, any type of market. Shopping. Health. Their kids.
My recent trip to Turkey is proven to be quite an interesting topic that makes people forgot the fact that I have to find a job. And thanks to iPad, I showed them pics to distract them even more. Nice.

2) Keep answers short and do it firmly & politely.
Send the message: I don't wanna discuss further, if you could excuse me.
I don't mind telling my grandpa that I'm still figuring out my direction, but he doesn't have to know the storm in my mind like 'I'm feeling really nervous, miserable and insecure. I don't know what to do with my life. I wanna go back to university, not for escape but to feed my curiosity. My current supervisor doesn't trust/like me. I don't wanna work there anymore.'
The world has enough negativity and everybody has their own problems, who'd wanna listen to me bitching about such things anyway?!
And after all, we all face similar situations in our lives--so, no big deal, I can handle that. :)
Besides, I don't want them to worry about me.
Somehow, I think it is a type of disrespect to your parents or older family members if you make them worry about you.

Last but the most important thing to survive unwanted conversation:
Be yourself and be honest.
It always works.
As we all go through similar situations and people only ask about you because they care (with some exceptions who just wanna make you appear as a loser), it's perfectly alright to let them know that you are still figuring out your way.
None of us are born with everything. To create our own lives is something we should all be very proud of.
Never be boastful and make things up to appear better.
What's the point of doing so?
For face? To impress people that you don't even like?
I'd rather save that energy to build my life.

So my answer for tonight was, 'I'm still figuring out what is suitable for me and I'm open to all possibilities. Staying positive and working my best won't lead me too far astray. After all, it's just my first job, I can change and create my path, can't I?'
Oh! I just realized that I have used a tricks, subconsciously: end with a rhetorical question so they can only agree with you.

Um...what else? Yes! Be confident and smile.

Dear readers,
Next time you go to a social event, don't be nervous, probably many of the guests are as nervous as you.
And now, with the little tricks I shared with you, I think you are ready to go.
It is not as difficult as you thought, right? You just need confidence and a bit of practice.
Be confident, be honest, stay cool, have good manners and just smile.
You are gonna be fine. :)

In case you are still nervous, loosen up by looking at such cute pictures!

By the way, happy father's day! :)

Love,
N

Wuthering Heights

Emily Bronte's Wuthering Heights is made into a movie.
The film did create the atmosphere and heaviness, but it is much less heavy or dark compared to the original work. The plot is still there but a lot of important details are missing but of course, it is understandable. Some of things happened in the movie did not happen in the book.
Turning a novel into a movie is a daunting task. And usually doesn't work.
For me, because visual images, no matter how stunning they can be, can hardly compensate for the beauty of words that is lost.
Wouldn't call the movie a disappointment, nor a surprise--mostly because I don't have much expectations and I know I would always prefer the book.

Read it when I was 15 in my English Literature class.
It became one of my all-times favourite novels. Re-read it a few times and still enjoy it.
It used to be my obsession--not for its romanticism, but for its almost unbearably immense anguish.
Sometimes it's so painfully heavy that it suffocates me, but I am obsessed with how excruciatingly intense it is.
The combination of pleasure and pain in exquisite extremes--it makes me feel both alive and surreal at the same time.

Some of my favourite quotes that I thought would appear in the film:
'He (Heathcliff) shall never know how I love him; and that, not because he's handsome, but because he's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same, and Linton's is as different as a moonbeam from lightning, or frost from fire.' -- Catherine, Volume I, Ch IX of Wuthering Heights

'If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue to be; and, if all else remained, and he were annihilated, the Universe would turn to a mighty stranger. I should not seem a part of it. My love for Linton is like the foliage in the woods. Time will change it, I'm well aware, as winter changes the trees--my love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath--a source of little visible delight, but necessary. Nelly, I am Heathcliff--he's always, always in my mind--not as a pleasure, any more than I am always a pleasure to myself--but, as my own being.' -- Catherine, Volume I, Ch IX of Wuthering Heights

'I love my murderer--but yours! How can I?' -- Heathcliff, Vol II, Ch. I of Wuthering Heights

'May she awake in torment! And I pray one prayer-I repeat it till my tongue stiffens-Catherine Earnshaw, may you not rest, as long as I am living! You said I killed you--haunt me, then! Be with me always--take any form--drive me mad! Only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you! Oh God! It is unutterable! I cannot live with my life! I cannot live with my soul!' -- Heathcliff, Vol II, Ch. II of Wuthering Heights

Now as I look back, teenagers shouldn't be allowed to read this book, let alone making it a learning material--as we all know how easy romantic novels intoxicate defenseless young girls who simply have too much imagination about love.
Well, I enjoyed it.
It is particularly interesting as I read through the notes I scribbled; my thoughts and interpretations of the story.
I don't usually write on books but it used to be my textbook, so I did.
Funny feeling of a dejavu, '7 years ago, I held the same book, read the same story, felt something strong and wrote this. And now, I'm back again.'

'The love between Heathcliff and Catherine, the star-crossed lovers, is expressed through giving and receiving pain, not tenderness nor sweetness,' I wrote.

On a slip of paper clipped into the book was written some questions,
'what would it be like if Catherine married Heathcliff? Would they be happy? Maybe they are not meant to be together, they are meant to be apart.'

Do I have a different interpretation? Do I feel more, deeper or less?
Do I understand it better than I used to, with a few more years of experience?
I used to think the love depicted in the book was beautiful because it is deep and unforgettable.
But now, I don't know what kind of love it is.


Everyone dreams of a love that consumes them--the kind of love that you completely lose yourself into, like when Cathy says she is Heathcliff.
But when Cathy says 'I am Heathcliff', who is Cathy?
Once that fire fades, what are we left with?
Just excruciating grief, uncontrollably haunting memories, regrets, self destruction and a wound that never seem to heal.
The saddest thing of losing a love like this, is that we lost ourselves.

As we are consumed and lost ourselves completely in a love like that, we blur the line between who we are and the person we love.
When that relationship is gone, we are gone. We are not even left with ashes of who we once were.
Then the world becomes a dreadful collection of memoranda that she did exist, and that he has lost her.
Every single day becomes so long that he has to remind himself to breathe and almost has to remind his heart to beat.
Life becomes a long fight that never seem to end. Yes, he wish the long fight will be over, but at the same time, he doesn't want to get over it.
Why? Because saying goodbye means going away, and going away means forgetting, as Peter Pan says it.
And he couldn't forget. It was too deep, too memorable, too dear.


Why would we still want to losing ourselves to have a love strong enough to move mountains?
What kind of logic is that?

Heathcliff thought he loved Cathy all through their lives.
But no, he only loves Cathy for who she was, not who she eventually became.
And that young, mischievous Cathy who spends time with him in the woods is gone, even though she stands in front of him as a well-behaved, grown up lady.
Who Heathcliff loves is his old (or young) self, who he used to be when Cathy was with him, before Edgar appears.

What good does this love do for anybody?
One can hold on to beautiful memories, but not drowned eternally by it.
Love shouldn't trap a person in the past or in anguish. 

Love is scary, life is scary, aren't they?
I wish recovering from pain is as easy as giving cliche advices like 'set it free, let it go'.

Dear readers,
I still believe in love.
So I take risks, have a 'love like I've never been hurt' attitude and stay hopeful.
I hope you do as well.
Love life as hard as you possibly could. :)

Love,
N

Work the Murderer

Ever wonder how long does it take for life to kill a person?
Ever wonder how long does it take for a society to murder one's inner child?

Faster than you could ever imagine.

Thought it is insane enough to be given an entire long-term project on my first day of work.

When today, my supervisor said, 'arrange a brand new vending machine in a local uni campus on the coming Thursday', I know I was wrong--it only gets worse.

To make things much worse, no instruction was given on how to do that. 

Just a pile of contacts and product list and the project is all mine. 

Given that I only work 2 days per week, this means I only have 2 more days to make it happen.

So I spent the day contacting the vending machine company, machine packing and decoration artists, traders, making sales log and stock log templates and arranging logistics.
Still a lot of phone calls, arrangements and co-ordination to be made next Monday.

It's challenging but I love that I'm in charge of this whole thing and it feels good to be in control.

 

See? 

Caution no.1 of how work life destroys a person: turning a woman into a man. 

Being efficient, strong and capable shouldn't mean the loss of femininity--unfortunately many of us got too occupied by work that we suffocate ourselves as women.
And that is absolutely wrong. Big mistake. HUGE mistake.

I'd like to share with all of you my favourite quote which goes like this,
'Nothing is so strong as gentleness and nothing so gentle as real strength.'  

Reminder to self no. 1: A woman who loses her femininity is nothing. 

Strength of a woman comes from the fact that she enjoys being a woman.

Step 2: how a person is silenced by exhaustion.

I hate it when locals make phone calls using a typical 'work voice'.
They all have exact same patterns of pausing, use of same useless words that create this weird 'work tone/accent' that make their voice terribly annoying and fake.

I know we have to sound nice and efficient, but that work voice is so freaking annoying.

And it's even more annoying when once the person gets off the phone, he/she speaks in a whole different voice again!

I hope I don't have a work voice.
And for the first 15 mins my colleagues finishes their calls, I don't wanna talk to them at all.
After making 1-2 dozens of calls, I don't wanna speak anymore.

So exhausted that I kept silent even when I went out for dinner with my bf and have not talked since I got home.

Note to self no. 2: don't let work destroy you so quickly.
Recall your happy, positive times at school, when you are with your family, friends and loved ones.

Even though there are things that you dislike, suck it up and be an adult.
Be mature and nice.

My dear readers who have already started working,

Please forgive me for being rude, but allow me to ask a question?
Have work destroyed you? Or the opposite, that you managed to be yourself under stressful work?
If you belong to the latter, congratulations and please, I beg you, tell us how you did that. 

Lessons to learn for work-life balance (if there is such a thing...):  <--unintentional sad face!

Be yourself.
Strength comes from embracing your femininity, or masculinity.

Be aware of how life could destroy the best of you, never let life murder your inner child.
:)

Love,
N

On Introspection and Change

'Discover yourself and embrace differences'--my teenage motto.
Knowing myself--for me perhaps one of the most important lessons in life.
Last night, I was in a struggle between playing the role of 'good' girlfriend or being myself.
Well, the two are not mutually exclusive.
Maybe I should put it as 'fulfilling his expectations' and 'following my heart'. (still not mutually exclusive, but anyway)
If it is my friend who is in such a situation, I'd tell him/her right away: be honest, be yourself, that's the way to make relationship work and last.

We met and fell in love at a church. I have always described him as an angel.
There was a time that I was a devoted believer.
Then things changed, many aspects of my life shattered. Religion no longer gives me peace.
Positivity gives me strength to move on. I brought myself inner peace again.
Loving life, loving myself, loving others--love is my religion.

I told him exactly how I feel: I found inner peace, I don't feel the need to go to church.
Tried to explain myself as clearly as possible. In fact, I have been trying to explain this for years.
Tried to go to church for other reasons but the religion, as he suggested, like thinking that I'm accompanying him or making a bunch of mutual friends.
I really tried and I got tired.
The harder I try, the more reluctant I get--I don't want to be an actress, lying to others, to him and to myself.

Am I selfish? Have I not tried my best?
Such introspection makes me feel bad about myself.
Not that I think not going to the church immediately makes me a bad person--which, unfortunately, is the logic of  many believers. In their language, I'm a 'lost soul that went astray and desperately needs to be saved.'
Even though every single time I hear that, I want to ask, 'how lost am I exactly?!', that remains a question that I never bothered to ask--even if I ask, I won't get an answer as we speak different languages.
Or maybe to them I'm so lost that I don't even know that I am lost?

The major reason I feel bad is letting him down--letting him down lets myself down.
When he said, in disappointment, 'so there is nothing I can do to change your mind? Think about why you went to church, think about how we met, think about how it changed your family.'
I am truly grateful for all these blessings, but going to church should not be like...repaying a debt.
He quietly said, 'you changed.'
These two words are heavy to take, a bit like a judgement or an accusation, because what they really mean is: 'I'm disappointed about you, you let me down.'
Like a reflex, I said, 'yes, people change. All of us do. The thing is I'm more happy now than I was.'
Oops! Sounds like an automatic self-defense, even to myself.
So, I went silent.
I was saying the truth but I'm old enough to have learnt one thing:
Most of the time accepting the truth is more difficult than telling the truth.
Sometimes, much much more difficult... 

Have I changed?
It'd be a lie, or a mere lack of self-understanding or self-awareness, to say I have not.
Too bad that most of the time and most of us, by that said I'm included, only see the bright side of our own change, but not so much about the down side of it.
The funny (or not-so-funny) thing is: when it is others who change, we often see the bad side of it first.
While we are so obsessed with 'be the change you want to see in the world', everybody want to change the world and nobody want to change themselves.
You know what that is?
Human nature. Our flawed human nature.

After a while, I told him I still love him and don't want this matter of going to church to come between us.
I said it is 'a small thing, an individual choice.'
I went silent again. This time because I found myself wrong, sadly after I said it.
It is not a small thing. Values can never be small things in a relationship.
But then, not going to church does not mean that I disagree with all the morals that it preaches.
I remained silent because I see how hard he was trying to understand me without judging me,
I appreciate his patience, don't want to overload him/ confuse him.

Today I threw a temper on my parents and my boyfriend, about booking flight tickets.
I burst out my frustration.
A short one and I only let out just a small part of my frustration,
but I was loud enough to put myself into silent again.
This time because of shame.
I am ashamed of myself, for such a lack of self-control, for my impatience, and for hurting people that I love.

 'Am I spoiled and hot-tempered? Have I become a nasty pompous girl who takes everything for granted?'
I really hope not.

My pursuit of happiness should not equate selfishness, at least I never intend to or want it to be.
We can discuss but please don't ask me what's the difference between 'loving yourself & be yourself' and 'being selfish & self-centered'.
The line between is so fine that I won't and will never be able to give an answer, not necessarily to you but also to myself.

I don't like what I did today.
But in general, I like that I'm much more positive and happy now than I was.
The truth is: Bit by bit, day by day, all of us change. I won't stop changing. You won't stop changing either.
But I hope there is one thing that would stay with all of us, no matter who we become,
that is: the desire to keep changing for the better, the aim to become a better person.

Constantly ask:
'Do I like who I am right now?'
'How, and in what ways, can I become a better person?'
And then, more importantly: if you don't like it, do something and change it.

Lifelong goal:

Be better, everyone. Be better. :)

Love,
N

What's the Name of this Song?!

What is worse than getting distracted while you should be working/ revising?
Getting distracted by yourself.

Found myself humming familiar tunes when I was writing my papers and revising.

Could even sing with some of the lyrics but couldn't recall the name of the song.

Every time when I'm sure that 'I know it!' but my mind gets stuck and I couldn't name it, then my mind goes crazy and I will be totally obsessed with it that I couldn't just leave it.
I know it's gross but sometimes I describe such a situation as 'brain constipation'.

Running around in my place, humming and singing it to everybody and begging them to tell me the name of the song.

And the part of lyrics I faintly remember is the funny part,

'we won't have to let others know that we own a telephone'

Mum asked, 'A telephone? when were you born?' 

She never seem to grow tired of making fun of my obsession for anything from the good old days of 1920s or 1950s, anything old-school and vintage.
'Yea, mum, I was born in the wrong time. Before someone finds out I'm a time-traveler, I should go back to my room to wear my bustier, then go back to my withdrawing room and have a cup of tea.'
On a second thought, I do all of what I have mentioned. 

Anyway, so none of them know the song in my head and I'm not surprised.

As I sing it again and again, it sounds more and more like a cha cha.
Not the typical fast and hot cha cha, but more like jazzy, bossa nova kind of cha cha.
Oh, right! I used to dance to this song.
I still remember vividly my dance classes. I was so young.
The first time I dance to this song is a summer day, much like today.
I like how my dancing school is located on a building near the flowers market.
Noisy, crowded and full of flowers, but once I push through the glass door of the school and the bell hang on the door rings, I'm in heaven.
I usually have classes after school, in school uniform and my schoolbag, but I always have a set of sportswear or dance outfit there for change.
No matter how tired I am, once I'm in my dancing clothes and shoes, I'm blissfully energetic.

I still remember the little details:
how we stretch against the mirrored wall,
the sound of dancing shoes on the wooden dance floor,
that relaxing scent of the classroom and
the bubbly sound from the tank of goldfish.
Oh! And one of the goldfish has a broken tail.
Those good old times....

In a split of a second, I understand why none of them know the song and I understand why my parents always tease me for my liking for anything from the past...

The song is 'Tea for Two'.
It was a popular song in 1925, reintroduced and made popular again by Doris Day in 1950.

It has such lovely lyrics:
I'm discontented with homes that are rented so I have invented my own.
Darling this place is a lover's oasis where life's weary chase is unknown.Far from the cry of the city, where flowers pretty caress the streams,Cozy to hide in, to love side-by-side in. Don't let it abide in my dreams.

Picture me upon your knee,
 just tea for two and two for tea,
Just me for you and you for me alone.
Nobody near us, 
to see us or hear us,
No friends or relations 
on weekend vacations,
We won't have it known, that we have a telephone.

Day will break and I'll awake
and start to bake a sugar cake 
for you to take for all the boys to see.


We will raise a family, 
a boy for you, a girl for me,
Oh, can't you see how happy life would be?

As I finally recall the name of the song (and singing it right now),

partly blissful reminiscing my good old dancing times and partly miserable about my revision,
I guess maybe my parents are right,
I was born in the wrong time and place...
but who cares?! I'm blissful singing Tea for Two in 2012 :)

Love,
N

Class Dismissed

My life as a student is coming to an end.
Even though I still have one more day of makeup class, yesterday was my official last day of class.
Counting from kindergarten, I've been a student for almost 20 years. 20 years! I'm just 22!
I still remember vividly how reluctant I was on my first day of school at the kindergarten; mum sent me on the school bus, I cried my heart out.
Going to university was similar--well, I didn't cry on my first day of school. But I was still far from being happy: I didn't want this major. The first year and a half was pretty miserable.
And now, in a blink of an eye, I'm about to graduate.
Losing my identity as a student--quite a change, isn't it?

Don't really have strong feelings like most do, knowing that this transition is perfectly natural and that I can't stop it from happening.
Didn't feel much yesterday. But today, on a second thought, I do feel...a bit awkward.
That mixed feelings and emotions.
Don't really know how to describe it, but perhaps I can share with you something that I ask/say to myself. :)

1) 'What can I feed my curiosity with?'
My prime concern.
I hear my heart and mind exclaiming: I need to learn! I need stimulation! I need inspiration! And I need plenty of them!! Will I be able to get enough of them outside school? 
I'm born curious.
I love learning, I love reading (and staying up late to do so), I love thinking & developing new ideas, I love writing, I love attending lectures (well, most of them).
I even like exams--that adrenaline rush, that excitement. (Even though most of the time after an exam, I feel like I screwed up and I could have done much better. And that's doesn't feel very good)
Sometimes I like to imagine myself as a sponge, trying my best to absorb every drop of knowledge.
Yes, learning is that satisfying for me.And now these things are coming to an end, or at least I won't be doing these in a campus setting anymore.

Didn't feel much yesterday. But on a second thought, this is pretty scary.
I need plenty intellectual stimulation. What can I feed my curiosity with?
Don't call education/ learning an enrichment, it is a necessity for me.

2) 'Do I hate my major of study?'
Yes, for the first year and a half. But now? Not at all. I truly enjoy it
'Trying to love and enjoy it, trying my best to learn as much as possible, trying my best to excel at it'--that became my attitude.
Doing good in what you are good at or interested in is perhaps the most natural thing.
But under unfavorable circumstances, make the most out of it, enjoy and appreciate it, break your own walls and learn new things? That's the challenge.
I'm glad that I challenged myself. It is very humbling as well as satisfying.

2) 'Will I miss this university?'
While I'm sure that I'd miss university education, I'm not so sure if I'd miss this particular university.
Don't love it, nor hate it. Just no attachment to it.
It's just that I never really belonged.
Or maybe at the beginning I was simply too self-absorbed into being angry and disappointed with myself, that I never really allowed myself to appreciate this place.
Or the negative emotions are so much associated with this university that I could not love it.
Um...probably I won't miss it much.
One thing for sure: definitely NOT gonna miss the canteens and the stinky smell.

3) 'Which place(s) will I miss?'
Not the canteen, not the construction sites.
Maybe the library. And the cafe which is almost the only place that I eat at.
Maybe some particular classrooms which I have good memories about.
Definitely my withdrawing room.

4) 'Will I miss my classmates?'
When you are angry with yourself and don't feel like you belong too this new environment, it is easy that you close yourself to meeting new people as well.
The first half of the sentence happened, and I couldn't let the second half happen as well.
Even though I can name a few things about them that I cannot get used to, I do like my classmates. They are nice.

5) 'I'm gonna miss my profs.'
It's not even a question.
My grandma-like psychology prof who is so encouraging and supportive. feel like I'm a pampered little girl whenever I talk to her.
My insanely funny Jazz prof whose sense of humor I'd definitely miss. The Jazz class was so fun, one of the most enjoyable classes in 3 years.
My 'intellectual Santa Claus' who is so interesting and whose classes I really enjoy.

Among all the people I'd miss, the most important of all is definitely my awesome adviser/prof.
Definitely top on the list when I count the blessings about my university life.
Why? Tell you when I graduate. :)

Should go back to reading and start writing my papers now.
Grabbing my last chances and trying my best to be a good student.
Be curious & enjoy learning!

Love,
N

P.S. Went to a concert by Mouron and the local City Chamber Orchestra.
The theme was classic French songs, showcasing a total of 20 of them: La Vie en Rose, La Mer, Ne Me Quitte Pas, Je Ne Regrette Rien, Je Suis Malade, etc etc.
Quite enjoyable.

And I saw a French couple wearing white suits, white from head to toe!
Fine line between chic and fashion faux pas. Too bad my camera wasn't with me.

Love for Brutality?

Preparing for tomorrow's class activity on the Syrian Crisis.
Going to speak as the Syrian National Council, the opposition group.
Know very little information, if any, about the event.
So little that I actually feel ashamed, as I spend the night doing some last minute reading on the topic.

Accidentally came across a vid on Youtube about the issue, with a title clearly against the hypocrisy of states which remain supportive to the Bashar regime.
So I clicked...and I shouldn't.
It is all about children who were severely injured or killed in the crisis.
Cries, blood, wounds, the corpses and their faces.

Not my first time watching death-related videos, but this is disturbing.
True that it is very sad but it doesn't make me cry, simply because it is so disturbing that it terrifies me.

The images are horrifyingly disturbing.
But the worst thing is, this horror is experienced by human beings just like us (and children).
This horror is happening in the same world we are living in, as I type and as you read, at this very moment.

How could anyone do this to another human being? Do they ever regret or feel ashamed?
How can they sleep at night or feast, knowing that their hands are full of blood?
How can they face their own children, when they murder other children the same age as their own?
War, or any form of violence I should say, is going to continue as long as human beings exist.
Sometimes, human beings are just animals, even though we believe we are not beasts.
But perhaps the only difference is that people justify and rationalize beastly behaviours while animals are completely honest.

Is our desire or love for brutality a part of our human nature?
The destructive or dark side of us, the 'death instinct' that Freud suggested?
Sometimes, I imagine: if we evolve fast enough to remove this brutal nature or desire for atrocity in our genes, could we live peacefully and happily together?

Words can't describe how I feel, with those images vividly flashing in my brain.
There is nothing more powerful than love; not hatred, not fear, not anger, not jealousy, not even violence or brutal force.
Readers, love as if today is the last day of your life.

Love & Peace,
N

On Understanding

Hate this feeling of 'no one understands me and it's useless to explain because still no one would understand anyway'.
But sometimes I'm glad about it because it means people around me have not gone through the same shit that I did.
Not trying to say that my life is difficult, because everybody's life is difficult in their own ways and honestly I know I'm very lucky and blessed.
I really don't have the right to complain about my life.
But I guess it's right to say that it is my personality and who I am that make everything more complicated.

I usually get stuck in this whirlpool of negative emotions and haunting memories that I just vanish into the world of negativity.
I couldn't tell you how good it feels when someone find the time to give you complete attention and says,
'tell me everything, I'm here to listen, I'll try to understand.'
The best thing is regardless of whether or not he understands everything, he still says, 'I trust you. I believe in you.'
I love being able to be so honest and open with another person about my thoughts and feelings, without the fear of being judged.

That incredible patience, attention, understanding and acceptance.

Thank you for listening to all my bullshit and me bitching about everything :)

You have no idea how wonderful you are.
Really, you have ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA how fantastic you are.
I wish you could see yourself from MY perspective: You are awesome.
Thank you for being such an amazing and special person. : )

Upcoming posts for the summer: A series of articles about urban life.
It's gonna be sarcastic but still SO fun.

Love,
N

What am I Thinking?

Talking about 2 different issues today.
1) Relationship with my bf
2) Something else

'I don't understand you. I don't know what you are thinking.'
Sometimes I don't know what I'm thinking too.
After all those years of wrong relationships, recklessness and mistakes, finally I have found him and settled.
And all of a sudden I yearn for a little more freedom and space.

Is this just that I haven't fully adjust to life without my project?
Or is this what they say, a wild heart that cannot be tamed?
I hope I'm not starting another cycle of messy, troublesome, self-destructive and confusing life.

It feels terrible to be misunderstood, yet not being able to explain what's in my mind.
Not that I want to hide, I just don't know how to explain everything.
Even if I try to, no one would understand the slightest bit.
And most probably, the more I explain, the more confusion and misunderstanding.
I have enough experiences of that sort.
So, what's the point to even trying to explain anything?

Oh, another thing about people misunderstanding me.
Following one's heart is not easy.
Even though I believe in loving life as hard as I can and spreading love to people around me, it is not easy.
Especially when people explain your behaviour in their own way and never really understand your logic.
True that people come and go in our lives, even those who we hold dear to, those we are close with.
Life has taught me that the worst thing is not about how distance or the reality draw people apart.
The worst thing is not being able to show them how much you care when you still have the chance to do so.
Then what is left is just regret, when it's too late. You never know the consequences of your in-action.

If people are gonna drift apart anyway, shouldn't we make the most out of the present?
I still remember vividly those who I valued and how I lost them, eventually or suddenly.
Love never disappear, but so as the pain and regret.
The point is not whether these people stay forever in your life, because no one stays in your life forever except yourself.
The point is: the impact they have and you have on each other's lives when your lives touched.
Be the positive impact.

I hate it when people try to classify intangible matters like relationship, love, freedom and space.
Sometimes it makes everything more complicated than it actually is.
I never meant to hurt. But I don't know why I always manage to bring trouble to myself and others.
I hate to see my boyfriend being so confused and helpless when I'm just too complicated for him to understand.
Then, apart from him, I confuse others.


This is such a depressing post, but I just can't pretend to be cheerful and positive with this fucking mess going on inside me and my head.
Once I start to overthink or reminisce, I end up getting stuck in this whirlpool of emotions.
Then when I finally get over it, I'd feel stupid/awkward/embarrassed.


To save me from that, I'd better stop saying anything now, won't even try to explain anymore.
I guess this is how people eventually learn to be cold-blooded, shut the world outside, stop caring about others and only mind their own business.
If I were a little more cold-blooded, a lil more simple, less caring/curious and have a poorer memory, my life would probably be easier.
But then, is an easy life worth living or what I want? That's another question.

Love,
N