I am not a wuss. Not even schmuck. Or anything so. Because I do believe that my life is way better than that. Way better than you have. So much better than I can't be, before. But now, life has shown that this is actually the way I should live it, from the day one I smelled the fresh air, up until now where there is nothing but sickening stench.

God forbids we met.

Dream

You know how when you're a little kid and you believe in fairy tales, that fantasy of what your life would be.
White dress, prince charming who'd carry you away to a castle on a hill,
You lie on a bed at night and close your eyes and you had complete and utter faith.
Santa Claus, Tooth Fairy, Prince Charming, they were so close you could taste them.
But eventually, you grow up.

One day, you open your eyes and the fairy tale disappears.
Most people turn to the things and to the people they can trust, but the thing is, it's hard to let go about fairy tale entirely.
Because almost everyone still has that smallest bit of hope or faith that one day they'll open their eyes and that will come true

At the end of the day, faith is a funny thing. It turns up when you don't really expected.
Its like one day you realize that the fairy tale might be slightly different than your dream.
The castle, well, it may not be a castle. And its not so important that if it's happy ever after.
Just that it's happy right now.

See, once in a while, once in a blue moon, people will surprise you.
And once in a while, people may even take your breath away.

As narrated by Meredith Grey

Grey's Anatomy

Dear bloody H,

As what I've expected, I aced the crucial time I had just now. Felt like I was flying on a soothing weightless feather, freed from everything that has been incarcerating me all this while. I should not expect much as there would be no more to be saved from this good-for-nothing relationship.

Maybe I had too much to endure. Maybe, but I couldn't understand the matter why this thing has to be happened to me. To us. To everybody that lives around us.

I write more after this. I want to get out of this system.

Later,
E

To H,

I'm having my big day today. Just hoping to receive a modest Good Luck wish from you.

But it seems like it won't happen.

Loving you endlessly,
E

An Open Letter To H

Dear H,

I came back to my abode this evening at 8 and straight away tossing up my keys and drove to this little Thai restaurant or could I call it Kelantanese restaurant because the guy who took my order talked incomprehensible dialect which later I found out it was a Kelantanese dialect because his dialect was so different from what I’ve heard from my other Kelantanese colleagues I had at work or when I was in boarding school and maybe it was incomprehensible because he was actually a Thai(landish?) at all.

While I was waiting for my Tom Yam to be served, I gazed up to the sky and I saw stars of varying intensity mapped onto the black night canvas were so persistent, I could see a star, shining brightly and she was the one who stood out among others and I thought a soothing Jim Brickman’s song would be nice to complement the absolutely amazing moonless night but all I heard was a shriek from the TV with a man and a woman mumbling over the death of the beauty Mongolian Altantuya whose body was blown into pieces and sometimes the shriek dimmed for a few seconds when trucks with annoying sound passed over on the street beside the restaurant.

All of a sudden, I came to think of you. Gazing at the star, the way it shone was so irritating, it did bring back the memory and the remembrance of things past that happened between us. For sure I didn’t want to think more about you, any deeper. No. I wouldn’t. But shit happened and when it happened the least I would like to do was to recall the reminiscence we had together and the least thing I would like to have was the first thing that came to mind. Because I was so miserable and pathetic, I did recall the memories back. I didn’t cry. I wasn’t that melodrama. It yucked in many ways, you did know how wretched a woman cried for a little man as though I have nothing to cry for but you.

And then I came back home, watched National Geographic about this Korean Air flight that crashed in Guam, then Supernatural whose the big brother was so hot I came to think of having his lil brother instead, then more NatGeo which the title was “The Vanishing Tattoo” or something like that and then I lied flat on my comforter did nothing but stared at the ceiling watching the comforting creamy white paint. I couldn’t stop thinking about you so I did text you which it sounded something similar like this

“I had my hair cut today. So much similar like yours when you decided that you needed a new brandishing hair style. A bit boyish but I like it. And I do hope you like it too but I don’t think so because you haven’t replied to any of my SMSs or even return any of my calls, so I guess you must not like me anymore, do you?”

I wait and wait up until now where there is still no sign that you’ll reply me. I presume the 1 cent charge for the SMS is too pricey for you eh? I think I lost you.

Goodbye H. Whatever your reason is, I still kiss you on my laptop screen every single day.

Bollock!

I have ten minutes before the clock hits 2 in the morning. Better sleep rather than dozing off in the office. In this small hour, I am starting to feel bad how stupid guys on this Earth who do not know how to cherish a girl like me. I feel so bad so that I will be running amok on the street alone, buck naked, holding lethal weapon and start to chop everybody’s head. And then I’ll swim in a pool of blood and people will leash me with torturing belts and send me to asylum and give me Valium and I think Valium is all what I needed right now!

Why he doesn’t want to reply my text? Why he doesn’t want to pick up my call? Were my messages I sent him annoying? Were calls I made didn’t ring his brain?

Guys are so mysterious and moron it is even better to be a woman. At least, we have lactating breasts and pink nipples and cute faces and the qualities that most of you blokes chase after or maybe you don’t if you are gay or a man with the endocrine gland being pressed by a gigantic deadly cancer or a lad with a low sex drive because your spouse is ugly. What qualities does a man have? Fine-looking? Well-built torso? After shaved beards?

I don’t need those, bollock! What I need is a guy who could be the safety jacket when I’m drowning. Or a guy who knows how to pretend to be happy even though he’s not when he’s with me. Maybe it does sound selfish, but every woman is selfish. And it is even more selfish if the guy we choose is the guy who can be the safety jacket and have fine looking and possess well-built six-pack salivating body and have cute after shaved beards! What a combo eh?

And I have a minute more before 2 because I don’t want to spend my whole life weeping over a stupid good-for-nothing man! Please ignore my previous entry. The one with over the moon feeling. Cut that. Pretend that you never read that. And I’ll tell you when that entry will be valid again.

Soon maybe, after I found another cute guy that has the safety jacket characteristics with extra safety features.

It is two. Better go. Good night.

*I published this in the morning by the way. Thihihihi.

?

Have you ever had a hunch that you are actually fallen in love with someone that isn’t meant for you? Like violating the law of karma or driving in the night time without having a tail light to make sure people can see you at the back. I think I did fall in love with a wrong guy, but that’s it, I love him. One’s so stupid and smug with his own sheer stupidity; the bad side of him is blurred leaving the greatest characteristics in the lime light. All these few days, I’ve been thinking of that issue, whether I’ve made a great decision by falling in love with him or am I just needed someone to eliminate the insecurity?

Looking at his face, I can see him struggling with problems he doesn’t want to be in. But for sure the trouble he had created like a plastic duck in a kiddy pool, it swirls and swirls until it disappears into the plughole down to the drain. But he is a tough guy for sure; I’ve never seen such a strong guy in his emotion – he contains every single thing not to be ruptured because dignity is what he left to save for. 

Now he is afar from me, left me all alone, reminiscing the memories he’d left me. But as wrong as the fate has been driven me on this winding road, as much as the karma laws I’ve been defied and how moron am I by seeing my future in him, I have no regrets whatsoever to be with him, up until now where love’s blossoming and keeps on flourishing. At least I can treasure the color and the sweet smell I’m having right now just before it rots and starts to poison me with its stench, leaving me perished and demolished like the pure white snow falling from the sky – it’s falling so slow and wavy until it hits the ground, safe and sound and lie over there untouched and hoping to be melted bit by bit when the sun shines.

And though this is the way I’ve chosen, I’m starting to contemplate when I write this, what if the road not taken?

Jolt

I need a jolt. A big one. The one that’ll leave you shocked for the rest of your day. Like having a pinch from your mom at the bottom of your belly when you were five because you did an art on the wall, leaving the white coated bricks with stains that couldn’t be removed. It was so painful. Throbbing. Like a sonar. And it was lasted for more than an hour, and you thought of paying revenge but you couldn’t because you were too small and eventually you lied down on your bed, head down, breathing through the voids of your mattress, hoping that your mom will come back to you and said “I’m so sorry I got angry” but it didn’t happen because your life wasn’t that perfect.

It was perforated at some points. And I wished mine wasn’t perforated. I liked it perfect.

Because when mine was perfect, I don’t need a jolt right now to wake me up from my flight of the imagination. Maybe this fantasy I made by my own self isn’t a fantasy at all. Maybe it is just the reincarnation of a night mare that has been haunting me all this while. It is just me who being ignorant, didn’t realize that this is actually the occasion I’ve been fleeing. Maybe.

I hear the singing of a bird. Far away but still can be heard. Except there isn’t any bird at all. The setting would be perfect if there is a bird chirping. I wish. On a tree at the back of my lawn. And I am on my butt underneath, reading Ken Follett’s The Pillars of the Earth as I am having quite little time these days for a book. 58 pages in a month? I need to take a leave. A week maybe. Just to read all those novels I bought. But will those birds poo on me?

Crap.

I should resort for an ice-cream perhaps. That’ll of course alleviate a little amount of weight in my head. Some say that eating and licking ice-cream is a warning that you are in a massive strike of depression. Is it?

I suppose I am going mad. Or insane. Or kooky. Or mentally unstable. Whichever applicable. I need a rest and rent a DVD. A Beautiful Mind maybe? I heard it was all about a guy going insane. Or should it be avoided?

I’ll sleep instead.

.

.

.

.

Maybe later, I need a rush of an ice-cream right now. Vanilla ice-cream coated with thick crispy choc layer.

Then, I’ll go sleep. Or read a book. Or watch a DVD.

I am absolutely insane, now.