When Harry met Sally

I just watched the movie. Again. And I was moved to tears. Again. No surprises there. I mean I guess it's a typical love story-ish feel-good flick but it's like THE love story. I mean I was totally won over (and I'm sure 56,8889 other women also were) when the fella tells her all these itsy things about her he loves - the way she takes a really long time to order her food, the way her nose crinkles up when she looks at him a certain way, how she smells and so on. I know a billion guys do that...but when I heard him say it, the water-works began and steadily increased in intensity when he said that the moment you realise you want to spend the rest of your life with a certain someone, after that, you cannot wait for the rest of your life to begin.

I want to be loved like that.

Now, it's time for sleepless in seattle. :)

White Lies

I've really been thinking this through, and I don't know how I really feel.

Are white lies bad??
What is a white lie anyway?
When does it begin to turn grey or maybe just plain black?
When is it a problem?

See, I really don't know. I think we, women, have the gift (or curse...?) of intuition, and so we find out most times when we're lied to. And also, we're the fairer sex, the fragile species, and men almost always want to save us damsels so end up divulging information themselves.

And then we know.

So I'm wondering, when is lying, okay?

I mean, I'm thinking it's okay to lie when :-

you say you're very busy doing xyz when you just want to sleep and you can't quite say so, or saying so makes you feel silly.....

you say you're in the midst of something important when actually you just want to get off the phone......

you say you earn $3k when it's actually $2.5k .... (heh.)

BUT,

is it still okay when you lie about where you've been, even though, maybe, just maybe, you weren't doing anything wrong...?

when you lie about your past, that might have seeped into your present just a wee bit....?

and you still lie when you're found out....?

I mean, it's not okay, is it?

Is it...? I don't know.

I just know this.....harmless or not, when you lie, and you're found out and you still lie, trust hits zero, and sometimes that becomes irreversible.

And it's such a pity.

because it's something even the sugared words, incessant hope and requisite snuggles won't cure.

Hmm.

I was thinking (very fondly....) of this tuna sandwich they sell at school which I lurve. It's one of the two things I eat at school. Heh. Anyway, one thing always happens when I make my order.

Me: Tuna sandwich please, no lettuce. (pronounced letters laaa)
Auntie: Girl ahhhhh, what letterrrrssss?
Me: No Auntie, no lettuce. (pronounced letters)
Auntie: Ahhhhh??? (looking wildly annoyed now)
Me: Oh ahh, no lett-ee-yuuuse Auntie.
Auntie: Say so laaa.

SIGH

And then in class, I was having this conversation with a classmate about credit card debts. And everytime I said debt (pronounced det)....he'd go, Ahhhh??? Oh de-bbbbb-t ahhh? And then, so I started going de-bbb-t also.

I mean I'm no shakespeare and I lapse into Singlish ever so often (and enjoy it especially when it irritates others, heh heh)....but I mean, it made me think.

Does something become right because the masses agree? I mean, my 'letters' and 'det' made me look like the uninformed freak more than anything else.

So, if the masses support it and say black is white, does it become so?

Of course, I'm consoled because everyone thought the world to be flat but it was proven otherwise yes??

But wait, the truth took years of study, and solid evidence in the midst of harsh ridicule before it was accepted.

The truth. Always so hard. Why??

Movie Mania

Juno

Knocked Up

P.S. I Love You

27 Dresses

After Sex

I dont't mean this to be a movie review, but I've been watching a few recently, and I've been dazzled by 2 above and I have to talk about it. 5 movies in a week is a big deal for me. I'm hardly a movie buff.

I was blown away by P.S. I Love You and After Sex. P.S. amazed me because of it's sheer romance - a love beyond the grave, or perhaps despite it. There were some themes in the movie that made me revisit feelings and thoughts forgotten or blocked. My tears were welled up in my eyes the whole time, but I refused to let them fall. I thought it would be a sort of defeat. I refuse to allow myself to relate to something so painful; and so beautiful.

Oh how silly I am.

But the idea of pure unadulterated love, faith and destiny, magic, the mystery of life, serendipity.....it was all in this movie. And I was struck hardest by the letter that she read by the fort - about their first meet.

I kept thinking - that's MY fairytale. That's how I want to fall in love - headfast, hard, suddenly and forever. It was a beautiful movie. Beautiful beyond belief but in an aching sorta way.

I L.O.V.E.

And then there was 'After Sex.' As the title suggests, it was about conversations couples have after....sex. It features 9 couples - lesbian, gay, old, young, teenage, married, illicit affairs.

And the type of conversations really make you think. Sex is very very intimate, and conversations after tend to come for a place deep down. (heh, I'm quite funny)....no seriously...and they're devoid of concrete walls and defenses.

I loved it for the idea of it. If you're into the detailed tiny quirks that make you ponder, you'll like this one.

The last worth mentioning I think is Juno. It just broke the mould of everything normal - was as 'real' as it gets and somehow made sense in the end. I liked it for it's intelligence that only hits after a while.

Okay, I'm done. Toodles.

Post-Valentine's.

Now that Feb 14th is over.......let me first admit that.....

it wasn't entirely annoying lookign at all the couples. Everytime, I saw a couple with a bouquet, or a couple holding hands, it put a smile on my face. Everyone looked so shy....and happy.

It was sorta sweet. It was. Especially watching them. And it was really cute how there were so many young couples around - stealing glances at each other, not knowing if they're doing the right thing.

Oh, what I'd give to go back to shy, innocent 15 year old days.

Voices

It's hard ignoring the voices in my head screaming 'stupid stupid stupid' yet desperately trying to believe otherwise.

I get so mad, because I can be okay and I know it, but I keep on being placed on this never-ending road of hope, desperation and despair. The road leads nowhere.

The realisation of my strength, but being forced to hold on, makes me mad.

I want to believe and trust; but this makes me feel like taking a knife and getting creative.

Is the truth honestly so hard?

Hmmpfh. coughchickencough.

Important

What's really important? What really matters?

It's been drilled into us - you get a good education (read: degrees are nothing now, higher! upgrade!), you get a good job (1231134141 hours a week and 5 figure salaries only qualify), you get married (if you're female, preferably to very handsome, very respectful, very adoring, very funny, very religious male who has a good job, meaning he works 1231134141 hours a week and has a 5 figured salary so that you can marry him, and he can support you while he has a tete-a-tete with his ever-helpful secretary)

woah, that was one long sentence.

Anyway, you are catching my drift no?

I mean, when did this become the formula? What happened to doing what you dream of, even if it's a unconventional job or one that doesn't quite finance your ferrari?

What happened to cutting back on work hours so you can spend more time at home?

Why can't this dog-eat-dog world be dog-help-and-play-with-other-dog world?
What happened to making love and not war?

Why does it always have to be a competition - who's richer, who's better?

And with partners, while certain superficial traits are important, why isn't the emphasis on who he is and how he treats you?

We're all weird.

That said, it's become impossible. We've evolved into freaks. And these things are in us already, so I think there's no turning back.

We're not gonna have fairy tale endings, and I think looking at how unpersonalised, mechanical and self-centred we're becoming, I figure our ends are gonna be very lonely.

Bummer.

the sound of silence can be very very loud

DEAFENING

Girls vs. Boys

I went to work yesterday. It had been a colleague's birthday on the 2nd. So I asked her how it went. She's 19 this year.

She scowled. (really she did, it was quite cute...) She told me it wasn't great. She said she spent it with family and a few girlfriends. That's all, she said. She said something about not having any guy to spend it with and that sucked.

Okay, I'm not gonna preach when I'm at the other side of the grass, but I clearly remember not ever feeling lousy about things when I didn't have a boyfriend, or special-somebody.
The girls were always all that and more.

And so, since she knows my birthday's coming up, she asks what my plans are. And truth be told, I have no clue. No real clue about what I want to do, so I tell her that. And then she tells me, it's not even an issue with me since I'll definitely be with my boyfriend. Okay, while that might be true, I told her I really really wanted to see my girlfriends too.

And then she stares at me like I was crazy and she goes - "On your birthday?? But you see them other times whattttt"

And I go - blink blink.
__________________________________________________

Are boyfriends substitutes for girlfriends? Is it so absurd that they both mean the world and chocolate fondue to you, although in different ways? Am I the crazy one for wanting to see the girls? I mean, duh duh duh I wanna see Kesh too, but I mean the girls gotta be there la.

I, for one, know I feel a little lost, if I don't see them, at leassssst, twice a month and that's already quite sad. That's just me, and if you think I'm mad, then whatever la. It's something I've grown to depend on. We've been doing this for a long time now, and we all know it's what keeps us sane.

The walks, the talks, coffee, dinner, ice cream (this one's newww), alcohol, sidewalk- falling is not something I'd ever give up or trade anything for.

Maybe it's me. I've seen and known these girls all my life. They aren't fair-weather friends.

They've known and been there through:-

- Psle results, Pri 4 mischief,
- Pri 3 Sacred Heart adventures, the Anjali Saga in Pri 5 (oh god that was a laugh).
- Lav has been part of my Pri 4 gangster legend. Okay la, one incident but we kicked ass like mad.
- Nisha has always been there through dance class and our playground and drain exploring with Shalu.

- Bad grades in secondary school,
- Thompson plaza-ing,
- Going to Fi's house endlessly,
- The boys, the girls (ha ha...gulp),
- SL (this has to be my longest kept secret),
- Family yuckyuckness,
- Surprise birthdays.

They've been there too when I couldn't adjust when I had to go to JC in South China. They were there through the problems at home. They were there when I was thinking about Poly, Law or re-taking my A's. They didn't just listen or pick up the phone when I called.

They never let me disappear.

They always knew what I needed. They'd call; they'd take me out. And when things were bleak, they always made me smile, and they always always always held me tight.

They've been there, all the time. They've been a part of all my major decisions.

I've grown up with them.

I love them, and that will never ever ever change.

Kisses till I'm 85, Girlfriends. ;)

Excerpts

I meant to post about letters I'd gotten through my life. There're lotsa funny ones - mainly from Kam, cos we used to fight like cats and dogs on paper. Then we gave up, and surrendered to sweet love. Ha. And then, there were the painstakingly hand-printed ones by Nisha. The kind that looks so precious, you fold and refold and safely put in a box. Then there were the ones by Kaart and Fi, with senseless humour that drives you wild. Yet somehow, they manage to inject words of support and love between the lines. There were also the ones from my mum. Heartwrenching sometimes, crazy funny others. The birthday cards were aplenty too, from acquaintences and friends seen no more, relatives who are no more. And of course, there are the notes of love.

Walking down memory lane sometimes can be very painful, and for me, because sometimes I tend to block certain things out, it can be one hell of a wakening. I leave you with a pile I found. These are all from one person; different letters. I couldn't get past this pile to leave you excerpts from the others. I was a little lost in thought, andddddd I have my darn project to get started on dammit.

- J


"I memorised all the lines for you, if you only knew, how that's so unlike me....."

"I spend countless hours pondering; thinking about just how I fit into the grand scheme of things"

"How expression might break past the chains that bind me to my fears. You aren't seperate from it all."

"I'm scared of who I am with you because you know just how to hold me and lull me to sleep."

"Because who I am with you is a direct result of who I am to you."

"Serendipity is not just a word."

"This year, New Years Eve is gonna be extra special.
One year since I saw a fragile angel sitting on the sidewalk."

"But all the shackles, the cliches and the arguments wear me thin."

"Stuck between a past I relive all too well and a future I'm all too cautious of."

"I can see you everyday and not once fail to notice how beautiful you are"

"By the time you read this, things will either have gone south or be blessed bliss with us"

"Perhaps we'll get better navigating the minefield"

"I mean this when I say, when the bomb goes off, I'm thankful our limbs will go flying off at the same time. You drive me crazy."

"Sitting here, looking at the pile of torn-up letters, remnants of hate and anger and something that still endures"

"When you came along, I was capable of looking past the bitterness, the pain I wore so proudly on my sleeve"

"It's not beyond me to love with all my heart. That, I learnt from you."

"One more run, one more try, I could keep on holding on. But that isn't gonna make things better"

"I wish I didn't make you cry so much, God, I really do. It scares me how much of a monster I feel like."

"We keep drawing these circles in sand and wiping the slate clean. But the memory remains."

"You'll find someone who loves you. Perhaps more than I do. But not like how I love you - with an ache in my heart that goes away everytime I hold you"

"Stop all this and come back home dammit. Oops"

Blog II

I get distracted so easily. My last post was supposed to be about why I started blogging and look at me, I went right off track, so here's attempt number 2.

Okay so I was talking about certain heartening comments I got, and about how that got me reminded about why I wanted to write. Yeah, change the world, blah and blah again, but also...

it was to reach out and make some sort, any sort of difference.

While I wish I could say I blog for so noble a reason, I don't. I started it because well, I decided to jump on the bandwagon. Everyone had blogs, dammit. And one afternoon, I was seriously bored.

I didn't think it would have lasted this long, or even that I would write religiously. I had started blogs before only to have them deleted within weeks.

I was never one to be too comfortable with everyone, stranger or not, peeking into my mind with a magnifying glass, and then adding their zero cents worth.

But now, this space is just for me. While I am mindful of certain things I say and there is a little censorship here and there, recently I've thrown almost all caution to the wind.

I say what I will, and deal with whatever comes later.

And you know what, this makes me happy. =)

Blog

I came home today and checked my mail, after what seemed like ages. I'd been away. And as I had pedicted, I got quite a few comments. Read previous post, and you'd figure why. And it all made me think.

While I got the expected angry responses, I got a larger number of heartening ones. And I realised, although the reason I started my blog in the first place, was not about garnering support or making me feel like I was not alone, or even about getting my message or any message out, I realised, that the fact that I'd reached to at least one other person, in some way, made me feel pretty darn good.

It made me remember how I used to be at 14, or 15 years old. I had amazing spunk and confidence. I had complete confidence in my abilities and intelligence almost to the point of arrogance. I had passion. I had a goal. I strongly believed there was a greater purpose for me.

I was going to be a writer. I was gonna be fabulous.

I wanted to reach out and tug at heartstrings. I wanted to reach to a specific audience - the book-flipping, coffee-sipping, get-high-on-wilde-or-walpole sort of radical thinkers wearing all black and no smiles on their faces. The intellectual crazies. The eccentric weirdos. I truly believed they were the brains of every society and I wanted to write. I wanted them to read me. I wanted them to know me. All of me. And then, together with them, I wanted to change political ideals, social errors, break societal backbones and then have a cuppa.

I was going to be revolutionary, and believe me, I was convinced that was my path.

And then, I grew up, and saw that the world was ugly. Sure. But I saw that, that ugliness was necessary. Black and white, Yin and Yang. The world had to be ugly, rough and raw in order to be beautiful. There is light only because there is darkness. And darkness is nothing by itself but the absense of light.

Oh Kon, I never thought I'd be repeating your words some day.

Moving on, I realised the magnitude, the importance of balance. I realised I couldn't sweep up my skirts, wave a wand and change Mankind. So, I decided to put down my pen, and take up business instead.

It's a decision that I think about everyday. Not about whether it's right or wrong, but the fact that I failed myself.

I changed my dream, my purpose, because at some point, I guess I'd stopped believing in me.

Why Men Cheat

Okay, a dear friend of mine recently blogged about why men cheat. At this point, I sense the urgent need for a disclaimer so here goes:-

I, Rajesh Uma, swear that I, again, have nothing against Men. I realise and recognise that women can be cheaters too. I promise my feminist days ended long back, and that I am not trying to incur the wrath of any male, cheater or not. ;)

Okay now that that's outta the way, have a look at what inspired this post, certain excerpts from said dear friend's blog, and of course as usual my 2 cents worth (in blue) :-

- These reasons (for cheating) could be genetic, psychological or simply lack of interest.

(Does this mean we're all damned cos it's in our cells, our genetic makeup? Sheesh. Explains some, though...)

- Women usually try to overlook certain things and think that everything is normal and under control.

(This reeks of d-e-n-i-a-l. Darn. Our biggest flaw. We believe what we want to, we see only what pleases us.)

- You (the woman) need to know the circumstances that led him to cheat on you.

(This is important I think, to sometimes rectify the situation and in other cases to stop feeling guilty or responsible for the sorry %%$^%'s actions)

- Sometimes, it is a woman’s fault to give her man a chance to cheat on her. If your man wants you to change some of your ways and habits and you can’t comply, chances are he would start looking for those habits in someone else.

(You know, while I see the logic in this, I refuse to believe that a woman is ever responsible for her partner's infidelity. If she can't comply, then they should bloody reach a compromise of some sort together. If that's not possible, leave, but don't bloody tell her it's her fault you found yourself in someone else's bed dammit.)

Now, that that's done, let me tell you why I think men cheat, and oh, it's really very simple, trust me.

It's because they bloody can.

Most men are egotists by nature, when it comes to sexual exploits of any kind. While most women keep silent about how many men they've had, men are respected when they score. The more the merrier, apparently. Their masculinity is upped by how easy they get with the girls.

As Lil Kim once said,

If you look back in history,

it's a common double standard of society

The guy gets all the glory, the more he can score

While the girl can do the same, yet you call her a whore

I dont understand why it's OK,

The guy can get away with it

The girl gets named.

So, in a sense, society accepts infidelity from men. How often have we heard 'boys will be boys?' Hell, we've resigned ourselves to it. The non-cheating man raises more eyebrows of surprise compared to the cheating man.

Also, the women make it easier, because when they're caught, they believe it when the cheaters say they're sorry, and oh, it was nothing (this one's a favourite) and that they love you so so much. (where was that love when you were busy with another woman, loser?)

Women believe constantly in that fairytale of 'ever-after.' Even when it explodes in their faces, they still want to believe in it, and that's the downfall. Cos the real world don't have gingerbread men, houses made of sugar and lil boys with long noses, sister.

And so, 'happily-ever-after' so often, is a myth too.

I leave you with a passage from this book I'm currently reading. (for the 67th time...)

"I'm a man, Harry. And the reason I'm here is to plant my seed in as many places as I possibly can. That's why we're here. That's what men do."

"Bollocks. That's what boys do."

But later, as I watched him leaving with the show's cutest researcher, I thought to myself,

"Why shouldn't he plant his seed in as many places as possible? What would he be saving it for?"

"What was so great about the solitary little flowerpot that I was cultivating?"

- Harry & Marty, Man and Boy.

(so you see, even the non-cheating man gets convinced or tempted sometimes. Brace yourselves women, there might just be no cure)

Edge

I'm constantly on edge now. I feel like a ticking timebomb. And sometimes, I feel like my heart will burst. Too many things are happening concurrently and it's not fair.

It's not fair, it's not fair, it's not fair.

How could he do what he did, when he'd lived through the exact same situation. How can he make it difficult? How is it he's not thinking about the most important thing in the world. God, I'm so worried. I'm hoping it all works out okay for them.

And then he, god. If I'd been angry and bitter before, I don't know what he's pushed me to now. Somehow this is his fault. Cos the genius idolises him stupidly. Oh maybe like Kam said, it's a vicious cycle, and I'm beginning to think there's no escape or rescue.

So what's my curse, because of my lineage?

And then, with all the drama around me, there has to be trash happening in my life too. Now. Because it's so necessary right?

I'm on edge all the time. I'm terrified. I fee fragile although I'm trying so hard to construct my walls again, to seem tough. I feel helpless, and that's the worst. I feel I can't do anything to save these situations and the outcome is too heartbreaking to think of.

The outcome of all the issues.

Pray for me. Please.

Dinner

Dinner last night, was a blast. It's always a laugh when we meet Fi cos somehow she's damn blur or damn funny in her own way. Ages since I saw her. It was quite funny cos I could see she was trying very very hard not to nag. We had a long, rather awkward talk, I guess. It was only awkward cos I think she thought I wasn't understanding what she was saying (and I was) and I thought the same. However, I know she wants the best for me, and no matter what you say Fifi, I'll love you to the moon and back, and you don't have to worry cos I won't hide anything from you la, nothing has changed. You're still my favourite cousin, and when we're old and grey, I'm still gonna move in with you and sing cool songs into your ears. I know you wantttttt thaaaaat. Kaart can join us too, since she's already started doing that.

Anyway, Fi says I don't mention her enough in my blog, so here goes:- I'm gonna tell you about the strange things she does that makes Fi, Fi.

Okay, so anyway, we were standing in front of some shop in Chomp Chomp, and it was called 'Ah Hock Fried Noodles'. Fi decides to tell us that, that is a sentence. As in, Ah Hock fried noodles. Okay, darn, not funny here, but you really should've been there. Kaart and I were looking for an emergency exit.

But of course Kaart's no better. Fi points to a sign that says you can ask for more vegetables and scolds Kaartsy for not asking. Kaart tells Fi, that there were no vegetables in her food so it doesn't count, cos you gotta have some vegetables in order to ask for more.

And then they start arguing about that, while I slowly inch away and pretend not to know them.

Freaks, but you wouldn't believe how much I love them. =)

Sigh.

I would like to ask, when it got so difficult, but when the time frame is minute, it seems a lil silly. So, I guess the question to ask would be, why.

Don't have to walk a mile in my shoes. Step in em, that might just be sufficient.

The world isn't a battlefield. Even if it is, as it always is with wars, when you emerge winner, there's so much you lose as well.

Paris

Update: r.e.s.p.e.c.t. great comeback. you're amusing me rather than getting under my skin. And that's really not because I'm tryna be some wiseass. You obviously don't know me, cos if you did, you sure wouldn't have said what you did. It's been fun MISTER. :)

This one amused me tonnes, and I'm bloogging this for the lack of inspiration.

So missy, specially for you.....

Hilton released a book in 2004, Confessions of an Heiress.

Hilton became a partner in an Orlando nightclub, Club Paris.

Her first musical album, Paris, was released in 2006.

Paris has also given back; she has done charity work for Toys for Tots.

She's got a book out, an album and fashion line out. She's making tonnes of money. She gives back to society. the boys want her, and I sure as hell know some girls wanna be like her.

Similarities, you say? Well then, right on, sister. =)

I hate you so much, 'hate' doesn't even begin to describe it.

This is 4 months too late but suddenly I had to do this, to put it out. Or maybe I just need to say this out loud. The blogging equivalent of 'out loud' at least.

You. I hate you. I've never hated before, and there's no one else I hate. But you, I hate. I would put your name here and deal with whatever conswquences later, but I have a little more class than that.

I hate how 2 months with you has equated to seemingly a lifetime or something of agony. I hate you for actually having the power to mess me up so bad. You don't deserve that kind of importance. And yes, I don't care, I blame you completely. I don't care if that's fair or right, but I do. Cos you know what, before you, I was fine, I could live with myself most days. Now, I'm a question mark, to myself sometimes but most painfully, to some of the people I love. And I hate you for that. I hate that 'almost strangers' tell me I'm lost and someone has hurt me real bad. I hate that I wear your stain on my sleeve.

I should have seen you for the cheating coward you were. I should have seen through the lies, the stale 'i love yous', the toxic hugs and kisses but I didn't. My glasses weren't tinted dammit, they were opaque. Blinding.

I hate, how to erase you, I changed; hardened; seperated myself into neat poisonous segments. To punish myself for 'us', I self-destructed. I hate you for everything you did, but most for everything you didn't do. And I hate you because despite everything, you're still the same cup of milk gone bad. Looks okay, but inside, all rotten. You're still at it. God. You don't deserve anything you have. You make me so mad.

I know this seems like the chicken thing to do, pointing fingers. But if you only knew, you'd understand.

I hate you, and nothing will ever make me forgive you, and someday, you will realise the magnitude of your actions.

It's so clear, everytime I see you, you wear your guilt like a brand. You can't look my way. Yet, it still is the same, isn't it.

Its scary and horrid how noone sees you for the worm you are.

I hate you. Completely. Those are the three magic words I'll be thinking of, whenever you cross my mind baby.

And trust me, one say, someday, I will have a laugh at your expense.

Video

Here's a video of my hot chick. She's just 2 hours old.

Goodbyes.

I thought this was funny, in a very err unfunny way. Kaart said my blog's black. She's a worrybug. Ha.

And, so it would be appropriate then for some dark humour? -J

______________________________________________

Should I drown in the ocean, so my salty tears will blend?
Or put my neck inside a noose, will that be my end?
Take a shotgun to my temple, put a bullet through my brain
Will that stop the endless, endless pain?
Throw myself off of a bridge, to the street beneath?
Take a hundred sleeping pills to sleep away my breath?
Or drink a thousand cups of coffee and wake myself to death.
Start a fire and burn myself to a char?
Or run out in the street, in front of a speeding car?
No one can see inside me or know how deep I feel.
Should I stand in a bucket of water and pet an electric eel? (my personal fave)
Should I lay across a railroad track and wait for the train at five-fifteen?
Or take a piece of jagged glass and ram it through my spleen?
I hear that God will answer prayers, I'm hoping that it's so.
And when I pray to God, he always answers NO.

Me. Stripped.

I'm an onion.

We all are. Some of us are afraid to shed our skins. I am. Although as I admit this, I want to cringe and shoot myself in the gut.

The person you see, is probably Jesh - smiling 24/7. Happy as a lark. Naive. Trusting. Blonde. Holding on to her rose-tinted glasses for dear life. Frail. Patient. Eternal optimist. Party animal. Leopard print top and dangly earrings. Eyeliner and lip gloss.

Painted.

And then, if you take the trouble to ever so gently look beyond that skin. You see Jesh - Happy still; but only because she believes life should be nothing less. Now you see, she's happy beyond the pain; despite the pain. Not quite as naive. Perhaps she merely doesn't see the need to prove herself as strong, or wise all the time. She doesn't need to wear the label of 'warrior' as a shield. She thinks shields are unnecessary. You build a fort when you have enemies. But if you vanquish all your personal demons and do not believe in 'hate' then your fort has no real purpose. Trusting; perhaps. But it's hard to be wary when she's so used to having the most beautiful people around her. Friends who are true, rock-solid. It's hard to think that God created people who are anything less. Her rose-tinted glasses are on by choice; but from time to time, she lifts them and stares hard at life, face on. She doesn't see the harm in believing in fairy tales and 'happily ever afters' if it makes day to day living, a carousel.

:)

You know, I believe if I had the courage to really think about who I am, or what I want to be- I'd take acting lessons. I'd want to do stage drama.

I think I'll be in my element, when I can run up the stairs, swinging my threadbare white dress around me and stand on a platform without caring whether or not I have an audience. Then, I'd say the most poetic or out-of-this-world things with a flourish and lots of drama; wave my hands all around. I'd quote Shakespeare. I'd go back in time. I'd be the wife who pines for her husband. I'd be the victim. I'd be the woman of scorn. I'd be mouldable; clay. I'd talk of surrealism, abstract expressionism; of artists and their mistresses; java with Van Gogh; rendezvous with Monet. My words will be oultined- stark and black. They'd be filled in with pinks, purples, reds and a bit of blues. My brush strokes, swift.

Then, I'd be content.

Expression would be my addiction. I am no performer; no writer. I however, insist that you allow me to be me, even if my eccentricites baffle, amuse or chase you to Mars.

God

I hope this doesn't offend anyone, I believe in God too, and I know He's right next to all of us, having a cigar and perhaps a laugh from time to time. I just thought this portion was interesting. Luv, J
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" It's like, if God saved that deer, He'd starve the wolf. Why would He favour one person over another?" "The Good don't get any better a break than anybody else. You could be a saint and still get the plague or step on a Bouncing Betty."

"At least you have something larger to fall back on." I said, touching the cross around my neck, zipping it back and forth along the chain. "You have a compass and a map."

"And if there's no God?"

"You act as if there is, and it's the same thing."

He sucked at his pipe, filling the room with its skunky smell, while I examined the board. "What does your mother have to say about that?" he asked.

She says, "Better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven."

"My kind of woman." He chuckled.

- White Oleander - Ray & Astrid.

Wild Roses.

This one I love, so haunting and sweet and tragic.

Must must must watch the video.

Its below the lyrics. Enjoy. -J
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Where The Wild Roses Grow
Word and music by: nick cave

They call me the wild rose
But my name is elisa day
Why they call me it I do not know
For my name is elisa day

From the first day I saw her I knew she was the one
As she stared in my eyes and smiled
For her lips were the colour of the roses
That grew down the river, all bloody and wild

When he knocked on my door and entered the room
My trembling subsided in his sure embrace
He would be my first man, and with a careful hand
He wiped at the tears that ran down my face

Chorus

On the second day I brought her a flower
She was more beautiful than any woman I’d seen
I said, do you know where the wild roses grow
So sweet and scarlet and free?

On the second day he came with a single red rose
Said: will you give me your loss and your sorrow?
I nodded my head, as I lay on the bed
He said, if I show you the roses will you follow?

Chorus

On the third day he took me to the river
He showed me the roses and we kissed
And the last thing I heard was a muttered word
As he stood smiling above me with a rock in his fist

On the last day I took her where the wild roses grow
And she lay on the bank, the wind light as a thief
As I kissed her goodbye, I said, all beauty must die
And lent down and planted a rose between her teeth

Chorus

Tunes.

This one isn't directed at anyone in particular; or perhaps it's directed at all of them? This song burrows its way into the inside of my body, leaving behind a bloody mess of tainted memories and cruel emotion.

This song is my cocaine-laced dagger.
Very painful but sweetly addictive.

I told myself I won't miss you

But I remember....

What it feels like beside you

I really miss your hair in my face

And the way your innocence tastes

And I think you should know this.....

- Better than me, Hinder

Love.

Love.

I would ban the word from the vocabulary.

Such imprecision.

Love? Which love, what love?
Sentiment, fantasy, longing, lust?
Obsession, devouring need?

Maybe the only love that is accurate without qualification is the love of a child. (like my Romeo's :) refer to earlier post)
But afterward, he too becomes a person, and is thus compromised.

"Do you love me?" I asked in the night; in my narrow bed. "Do you love me?"
"Of course" she hurriedly says. "Now, go to sleep."
Love is a bedtime story, a teddy bear, familiar, one eye missing.

"Do you love me, ling, babaloo?" he asks, forcing my face up; his words a blood-tipped needle.
Love is a sunflower, a used t shirt that smells of him, white stockings, the right side of the bed.
Sweet nectar sucked dry.
Deep; alluring; sacred, but negating.

"Your eyes, your eyes; I'm falling" he says. "I love you baby." " I love you too" I say with my heart in a porcelein cradle.
Love is sex in a car; music turned up loud; sweat on lace; another woman; poison.

"Tell me you love me." they all say.
"I love you; I love you; I love you"
And then I look up, and find myself on that desolate shore, littered with broken glass fragments.

All alone.

Steel.

Learn to endure. There is nothing to be done. Make sure nothing is wasted. Take notes. Remember it all; every insult; every tear. Tattoo it on the inside of your mind. Knowledge of the poisons is important. Nobody becomes an artist unless they have to. Pain is fragile, pain is colourful. Pain is art.

say hello to my newest reason to smile

My sister-in-law is due to give birth to a baby girl in two months. A baby girl I've already grown to love and make plans for even though she hasn't dropped by to say hey yet. :)

And now, whenever I see a little man or woman, my heart bursts with so much love, I can't take it. I see my little niece in the child and envision what she could be in 20 years.

More often than not though, I just take in the toothy smiles, their rounded diapered bottoms, the scent of milk on their skin, their soft hair you can fashion into a mohawk at will, thier pudgy fingers on your chest, the rosebud lips against your neck, their soft rhythymic breathing and their capacity to just, love.

Meet Mr. Rashvin Romeo. My latest obsession. The reason I rush home from school just so I can carry him, bounce him on my hip and hum little tunes into his ears. He stays at my neighbour and Aunt Aggie, Vishnu's house and I've fallen in love.

His fascination with my handphone, the palm tree, balls, my clothes and hair (heh) makes me so happy. I have the worst day and feel close to tears yet when I see his sweet little face, I know the world can be beautiful again.

'This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath,

May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet."

-Romeo and Juliet, Shakespeare