|| Of Mas Tulen and Honey ||

The one that got away.

2011-11-30T19:49:00.001-08:00

Dear Love,

I wanted to write, staring into thin air thinking about you. Forgive me though, for I have things to do. A few day ago I watched The Kitchen Musical and it hit me. We tend to associate songs to our lives. when you're in love, you feel like all love songs are yours to sing along. When you're frustrated, you opt for rhythm that matches your soul at the time. So, this is mine right now.

Someone like you

2011-11-01T23:28:00.000-07:00

"If you've ever had a broken heart, you're about to remember it now.."

You're invited.

2011-11-01T02:37:00.000-07:00

Department of Languages and Communication, Faculty of Social Development, UMT, in conjunction with The Japan Foundation Kuala Lumpur, is thrilled to bring you The Mugenjuku Troupe Tour: Traditional Sounds of Shamisen.

For more info, please read here.

Dream.

2011-10-25T19:33:00.000-07:00

So today I woke up, chuckling. Why you might ask. Well, I rarely dream in my sleeps but last night, I dreamed of Steve Tyler. Yeap. You got it right the first time there. Steven Tyler. Aaaaaaaaauuuuuuu.

Thing is, I didn't think about him (faaaar from it); I didn't even discuss about him (nowadays it's more educational talking about politics) with anyone, in fact I don't think anyone that I am friends with now know anything about him; I haven't listened to his songs for quite a long time (I skipped listening to my collection, don't ask me why); I didn't watch any Liv Tyler's movies lately (which she has not so many that we tend to bump into one accidentally); and I guess lastly I didn't meet any guys who look like him. I mean come on!! we are talking about Stevie here.

They say you tend to have a dream of something in particular when you have been thinking/talking about it.

That's the reason why today I woke up with a smile on my face. Gees. Dreaming about Steve Tyler and I was grinning like a small girl who just got her first taste of.. err..(what should I say here) ok..perhaps the first tingling sensation of bumping into your crush.

Oh. And it's Deepavali. And Steve. Hmm.

Boy, am I over-analyzing things.

Dreams are true while they last, and do we not live in dreams?
- Alfred Lord Tennyson

A wise man once said...

2011-10-16T03:57:00.000-07:00

"There are three things extremely hard, Steel, a Diamond, and to know one's self."

Benjamin Franklin

Simplicity of Love: 'I want to hold your hand'

2011-08-22T02:00:00.000-07:00

"To teach is to learn twice over" - Joseph Joubert

2011-08-21T18:19:00.000-07:00

Dear Boy,

The brief meet-up a few days ago still put a smile on my face.

Teaching sometimes can be frustrating, stressful and at times may seem unrewarding. It's even worse now when some Universities are looked down upon, by the society; saying that we haven't done much;especially when it comes to improving the graduates' English language. However, occasionally I have to admit that we educators experience some moments that make it so worthwhile that we forget all about the negatives.

One of those moments is the joy of bumping into an ex student of mine; like you. When I was in your previous school, I was quite happy being surrounded by smart and compliant students. Teaching there was pleasurable as you guys’ level of English proficiency was satisfactory. What I treasure the most, whenever we did games/discussions; the Learning Objectives were highly achieved! Something I can hardly say the same about some groups of students that I teach now. *sighs

You remember me; though I need to stress here that I was in your school for only 5 short months. Now I understand the meaning of joy for teachers whenever a student comes up to you and claims cheerily that he/she was your student. Talking to children who are now adults and them saying to you; "I remember you because..." and then coming up with an emotive reason. Sweet ey?

You are no longer the innocent-looking boy who once admitted in class that you love baking. You’re home for a couple of month’s break, only to go back to the UK after Aidilfitri.

Congratulations from a proud teacher who is proud to have been part of the team; even just for five months. Keep striving for the best. You’ll make an excellent engineer, InsyaAllah.

Regards,

"Teacher"

In teaching, you cannot see the fruit of a day's work. It is invisible and remains so, maybe for twenty years. ~Jacques Barzun

Poor English: Bangau oh bangau

2011-08-21T00:46:00.000-07:00

Of late, for the umpteenth time, the nation was on fire once again due to Malaysians with a poor command of English. Major highlight: these kids are entering universities. There they find that the academic books are in English but the medium of teaching is in Bahasa Malaysia.

Some parties claimed that Universities have to give importance to English if they want to produce employable graduates. Very quality graduates. Universities, you say?! Hmm..

Here's the thing.

I was speechless at first too, when I first came to my current workplace teaching final year students English for Occupational Purposes; finding out that more than half of each class, they couldn’t communicate properly in English. How? It was crystal clear when we did Mock Interview session; a session where the students get to be either the interviewer or interviewee, taking turns of course. The questions were given beforehand, all they need to do was answer the questions. Yet, they couldn’t say what they want to say. They were at lost in answering the simplest of questions. As simple as that.

There and then it came to me; after 9 years in schools learning English, what have they learned??

It is no surprise also that just like the cartoon strip above, asking the students to sing some English songs, the words coming out of their mouth so smoothly you tend to believe that their level of English is, if not poor, not bad at all.

I would really appreciate it if my students try their best to communicate in English wherever they are. But of course the fear of being called a snob or simply 'poyo' or, or 'mengada nak cakap omputeh' always holds them back.

I can't really say that the level of English among teachers in schools are poor and therefore it is one of the factors that contributes to downfall of English language quality. However I can't deny that I have some experience with teachers in schools (even English teachers) who can't really speak properly in English.

"Tepuk dada, tanya selera".

*Cartoon strips are borrowed from Portal Pendidikan Utusan

"... I girl. You boy."

2011-08-15T01:05:00.000-07:00

......

I stopped talking in mid sentence when I say those words instinctively. I was stunned. For four seconds. Then I chuckled.

He wondered.

I offered nothing. I simply continued where I left off earlier. As if that pretty awkward moment never happened.

Nobody needs to know.

Death. In Ramadan.

2011-08-14T20:46:00.000-07:00

Today I received shocking sad news via Facebook. My old friend back in primary school just passed away. Khalis succumbed after a courageous fight against leukemia.

I wrote about another dear, special friend of mine a couple of years ago who died of leukemia. You may read it here if you like. Am going down memory lane for awhile here. May Allah grant Afifi Jannatul Firdous and may Allah grant comfort to his family and friends. Ameen.

We were together in the same class from standard 1 until 5 Anggerik (happened to be the first class (performance in studies basis) out of 6 classes. Yikes. I am being ridiculously pompous now. Stop. ) He left us at the early year of standard 5 though and got transferred to Sekolah Rantau Petronas in Kerteh.

Khalis was a smart boy. He was always number one and I remember once when the three of us; me, Cheok and him making bets behind the stage before taking our small, cute trophy. It’s a custom in any school I think to reward their students for getting number 1, 2 and 3 out of all students of the same level. I can’t remember exactly what the bet was though. Come on! I was in primary school, man.

Here’s another blurry incident involving him in Makmal KH (Kemahiran Hidup). Something happened and he was in pain and our dashing teacher at the time, Cikgu Mobeen came to the rescue. I guess it got to do with some of the devices there.

It was long, long time ago. Still, his lost sent a shock to all of us.

Death is indeed a strange thing. Everyone will experience it, yet everyone goes in disbelief when it happens to one of us. The ones that we know.

May Allaah have mercy upon him and grant him the best of His forgiveness.

Al-Fatihah..

I pity those who came knocking on random doors

2011-08-11T00:01:00.000-07:00

It is quite common to have outsiders coming on to us, knocking on our doors, especially during semester holidays. These outsiders are book agents/salespersons, insurance agents and err..probably just those two categories. Perhaps I’ve left out another one or two. I’ll just chip in the extras if I could recall any later.

The reason am writing on this piece? People are simply annoyed.

We are suspicious at first wondering how on earth they manage to slip in, wandering from one faculty to another. Guess they have asked permissions from those up there before committing their act of pursuing happiness..err..I mean pursuing people.

One thing that we need to remember, they can never force us into buying things that we do not need. Hold on. Sometimes they do sell things that worth buying. However, we can always say no. Nicely.

I do agree though that sometimes their awkward, harsh attempts on stepping into our offices annoy us to huge extend. A colleague once recalled her experience with an agent who insolently pushed her door open without knocking. Given just a second or two of her to say anything, the agent simply put his files on the desk and with such pride, declared that he, yes he needs only 5 minutes of her time to explain insurance packages.

Long story short, these so-called agents are like plague that people tend to run away from. Simply locking their doors, saying nothing whenever anyone knocks on the door.

There are nice ones though, am telling you. Most of them actually. Imagine their apparent vulnerability, having equipped beforehand of the 110% rejection from each prospective customer. Of course they are nervous, especially the amateurs.

I detest anybody who is rude in his/her effort to push the agents away.

In my opinion, simply be nice to them. If you already have the things they are trying to sell to you, say so. If you don’t and you are not interested, say no politely. There are many nice, well-mannered ways that we can imply that ‘I don’t want it’ or ‘Sorry, I am busy’ without hurting these outsiders.

Like I said;

I pity those who came knocking on random doors.

London riot: A display of The End of Humanity

2011-08-10T19:27:00.000-07:00

Dear Asyraf,

My heart twitched watching you in the clip. My eyes glued to the screen; praying that you are better now.

You must be scared to death; while you were bleeding, sore and hurt like hell, all of a sudden a gang of well-built boys surrounded you. Perhaps at first you were relief that they came offering help. How on earth would you know that they only came to rob you! It is indeed a sickening world!

Since the embark of London riot a few days ago, we over here in Malaysia have been contacting families members and friends in hope of continuous safety.

I pray for your speedy recovery, dear.

Read the details more here and here.

Just breathe

2011-08-10T03:04:00.000-07:00

Dear Diary,

It is quite fun today. Someone whom I know a very strong willed person, rarely succumb to any sort of challenges; finally admits defeat. It must be the hot weather or something cos’ he’s been looking all gloomy throughout the day, makes him snapped and there you have it; white flag soaring high in the sky!

Thing is, there’s nothing wrong in admitting that you have weaknesses, or admitting that you have made a mistake.

I have two types here. One; a guy who seems to think he is built out of steel that just the touch of his fingertip would shake if not the world, the water. Lol. Someone who rarely, I repeat rarely says no to things. Two; a lady who is a whiner, attached to her weakness til the day she finally understands the words ‘Get a grip!’.

So. Let’s talk about type Number Two. Like I said earlier, it is OK to admit your weaknesses. Just don’t overdo it. I have the privilege of knowing the lady, whom I would safely name her Joyah. Joyah is an example of someone who goes overboard in admitting her flaws again and again, and again. She is quite known of this flaw of hers (let’s just focus on one for now shall we) and it is quite safe for me to say that we (aka friends) tend to help her whenever she comes across having this flaw getting in the way. Yet instead of trying to improve or do something about this repairable weakness, Joyah does nothing but self-loathing herself. Saying over and over again how she STILL can’t do it. I don’t know about others, but gees, she drives me nuts. Don’t get me wrong, she’s a sweet lady, but whenever she does that, I’d be running away in split second.

It’s a reminder really to myself. About balance in life. When you can’t do it, when you have flaws; try to deal with it. Improve. It’s important.

I read somewhere that admitting weakness and vulnerability portrays us as a human and hence encourages others (who know they have weaknesses too) to be sympathetic and to bond more closely with us.

It is not wrong at all when at some point in life we are beginning to feel frustrated and angered that we take some time to think first and relax. That exactly what has happened to type Number One.

I was pretty naughty I know that I grinned sheepishly at him, resisting myself from saying ‘Told you to take it easy’.

Let’s face it. We all need to be reminded that it is OK to slow down.

Just breathe.

If you forget me

2011-08-09T19:28:00.000-07:00

*Thanks Elviza, for that one powerful poem by Pablo Neruda; has haunted me.

The moment I clicked that 'Play' button in her entry, I was hooked. Perhaps the words, the voice, the background music; I wept. 'Tonight I could write the saddest lines' is one of the honest, deep love poems I've ever encountered.

Here I am now, listening to Madonna.

All I want is..

2011-07-02T21:43:00.000-07:00

Dear blog,

By the time I finally met you and did my ritual, I noticed that I have turned you into a video blog; which was never my intention in the beginning. However, sometimes songs deliver what can't be expressed by spoken (mind you, written) words.

It is what I am feeling. It is so raw I can even taste it. No matter what I do I feel the pain. Putting the hideous sight of those five boys aside (JT didn't know what he was doing don't ya think? Lol), it's tearing me apart considering the fact that I can't see beyond..'now'.

Here's the problem. We are living in a community where books are judged by their covers. A community where normality is a way of life where being a bit out of norm is a question mark.

I don't expect people to understand of course.

People would question, "Is that the right thing to do, Suria?" or, or "See the whole picture, open your heart to the possibilities" and the best one would be "Come on, time will tell, just give it a shot". Easy for you to say!

It's all jumbled up; my mental jigsaw puzzle. I can see there are so missing pieces that I have to grit my teeth and take a deep breath.

I'll manage, believe me. But in the meantime....

just take me away to Agra and I'll be free!

I miss you, b.

Syukur..

2011-05-15T02:25:00.000-07:00

I was early today and this song was played the very minute I had the engine running.

While singing to it the entire short route to work, it got me thinking that "I'll have a good day today, as one of the coolest 80's songs greeted me this fine morning". Though I knew earlier I would have a stretch of work piles waiting, I was gleaming.

And guess what, right now it's already 5.15pm and boy, I am still feeling great! Plus, a dear friend has just said something sweet to me and I thanked her for adding extra hours of happiness for today.

I thank you Allah for making me feel this way today. Alhamdulillah. How I wish for more good things come my way and my love ones'. Amin.

Somewhere in.. anywhere but here.

2011-04-27T02:13:00.000-07:00

Dear Bruno,

I was right there, going through the files of my quite-for-awhile-unattended office desktop; cheekily laughing as I went through the old photos of my friends and I (remembering the good ol' times), even choking up tears as I bumped into old sappy mementos of so-called true love (we can always be naive and all velvety when it comes to love right).

Suddenly I noticed this one lonely song left untouched at the corner of my 'hanie2' folder and I made that magical click and I was hooked. How in the world I could have missed this song of yours before, Bruno?!

Do you wanna know what came into my mind when I first listened to it? You may laugh all you want but I can say these three words; my first crush.

Yup. Ask me why. Ask me how. I would just blink cos' I have no idea how the image of that boy popped right there in my messed up mind. This song reminds me of him. The beat. The melody.

Memory is funny sometimes. In my younger days some memories I remember vividly, others I remember as snapshots. Ok. So here goes nothing. So he would be named..er..he. Lol. (if you could only see me blushing like a school girl right now..gees..)

He mattered back then because I generated my first developed feelings towards opposite sex into him. He was the turning point of it all. Before him I saw no significance of wanting to be noticed, to be cherished. However, at first I remember going through the confusion. I mean, when you see your childhood crush, a part of you might feel quite embarrassed and you might want to run away and hide. As if you had your skirt got stuck at one part in your panties at the back or something. Another part of you might imagine your crush noticing you and sharing the same feelings.

The heart would skip couple of beats, legs would refuse to stand, toes would sketch artful semicircles, and eyes would glow with special light.

It was a nice feeling. Even nicer and surreal when he and I were good friends. Yeap. We were both the school prefect and I can never forget the day when we were punished by our Prefect Advisor, Cikgu Zakaria Tahir (wow I can remember his full name! Bravo Suria) at the meeting for not wearing our yellow tie. There we were, standing side by side, in front of our fellow mates throughout the meeting, embarrassed and all, yet that was the day I favoured the most! It was as though we were meant to be together, even when you're going against the rules. Lol.

There's another day that I can remember clearly. Of cos' it is still about him. It was the day when UPSR result came out and it happened that we had our sport carnival or something, so we were all in such good spirit, not wearing school uniforms and all. To cut a long story short, after congratulating and hugging, I was on my way to the field when I saw him. He was leaning forward with one hand against the wall, the other continuously bashing the wall; sobbing.

I was devastated. Am telling you, it was the worst feeling ever watching him like that.

We had our moments. He was the boy who was complicated and intriguing. He was the boy who lit up whenever he saw rainbow (and Coke). He was the boy I wanted to marry.. (hey..hold on..too wordy there..). Pardon me. He was the boy I wanted to spend the rest of my life forever with when I was 12 years old, and now he was gone. Taken. I guess. I dunno. We went our separate lives. I haven't seen him for years.

Of course now he is no longer a boy. Hell no. I mean, even back then when we were in school, he was already like one of the coolest so-called teens with such attitude as if he owned the world, ya' know. Perhaps he is already a father of a boy. Or boys. Wow. Imagine that.

He is somewhere out there. Happy and healthy, InsyaAllah.

Some of my friends claim that they never fully got over their first crush. Not me. It's just a childhood crush, for crying out loud! Now I wonder, perhaps they got mixed up between first crush and first love???

Whoa. Huuuge difference there. I know someone who can never ever, I repeat never ever forget his first love. Not in million years. OK. Enough. So there.

Omg. Did I just spill about my first crush to you? Gees, I blame your song. Darn you're good.

Regards,
Suria Perkasa Hitam

p/s: He used to call me that before we.. you know. Lol.

Knock! Knock! Who's there? It's me, L.

2011-02-15T06:56:00.000-08:00

Dear Ne-yo,

People who know me, know I love you. People who ride with me, would bleed to death listening to your numbers back to back in the car. Though Peter (Cetera) is still one of the best, you darl; touch me. Deeply.

Then he came along, and soon enough he claimed “One in A Million” as his. I ached, when I should have jumped with joy witnessed by the glittering skies when he hummed the song and effortlessly sang the chorus. He took me by surprise.

He; listens, and I twitch because of that.

Before, one and one person only I see dances along with you, Ne-yo as I cruise along the melody. Now, numbly I linger for the film to roll; just to see whether the image remains the same.

“Jasad tidak setanding mimpi..”

2011-02-06T07:56:00.000-08:00

Dear Tuah,

Watching you again tonight brings up memories. Do I need to remind you that I went and watched you performed on screen twice?

Your love, my unspoken rogue, went uncherished. You who broke Gusti Putri’s heart; paid the price.

You who didn’t do anything; cringed under the dark skies. It was too late. Could you not hear her shrieking, haunting cries of regret?

You who could only say; “Apakan daya...tangan terikat di langit, kaki berpasak di bumi, jasad tidak setanding mimpi.”

I quote what the one and only princess of Gunung Ledang said with such unbearable pain, watching her other half admitting, committing nothing;

“Kanda sambut kedatangan dinda dengan niat melukai..”

Enough said.

“Kuhinakan diriku sendiri untuk merengkuh cinta sejati. Cintamu bagai cahaya mentari yang membakar wajahku. Meski sekilas kurasakan, namun akan menjadi bekal hingga akhir zaman” - Gusti Putri Retno Dumillah

Let's be friends again

2011-01-23T06:21:00.000-08:00

Dear AI,

You must be wondering why o why after so long I’m writing you this letter. I know we haven’t spoken (at least face to face) since 2 or perhaps 3 seasons ago. I had this severed memories of us laughing and babbling together over some ridiculous acts by Sanjaya and us being all critical over Taylor’s grey hair. Even the memory of us got all goggly eyes over the way David caressed his guitar. Gees, that must have been ages ago.

We were happy back then. (*sigh..) Oh well, we’ll just put all that bad feeling behind us and let bygones be bygones.

Last Thursday I realized that you have finally changed, my friend. It’s a good sign. I sincerely missed the way you presented yourself in such an authentic, memorable persona and guess what, you made me ache for more of you, ..er.. I mean your existence before me.

Dear friend,

We must have avoided each other’s paths as I didn’t realize up till last week that you are friends with Steven (sometimes I feel like reaching out for him and you know, do things like touching his lips.. ok.. abit too much there) and also the delicate JLo (oh yea, she doesn’t approve being called that, uh. Can you ask her again for me why?)

Steven is the ultimate reason. No, that didn’t come out right. Let me rephrase. I want us to be friends again because I know you have become a better companion for me because you have seen the light. Being sarcastic and cynical 24/7 is not a good thing and I silently cursed you before for being so close to that mean Simon for way too long. For nine seasons I have to say.

Things with work and relationships and et cetera etcetera are pretty much smothering over my schedule and sometimes way too absurd really to comprehend but I do know I am looking forward for our next get together. You know that I enjoyed every single moment spent with you.

Take care and could you please tell Stevie that my own version of ‘Aaa..uuuuuu’ is perhaps better now. And Jenny there, I hope she won’t abandon her talent of acting even though people claim she is too much of a diva to handle over some movie. She can act, believe me I know. Yes, yes I know Gigli ruined her but still.

See ya'!

Regards,
Your old friend

Salam Maal Hijrah 1432

2010-12-07T23:20:00.000-08:00

A new year. Phew.

It’s been a good start. An opposite to last year. I started off 1431 with heartache and sarcasm on the side. It has been a pretty crazy year for me. A rollercoaster of work expansion, mood swings, relationships, diversity of the assignments, and being massively loaded with extra teaching here and there.

Thank God though that my second part of the year got better, in fact got really good. I couldn’t stop smiling on a few occasions.

So, I am expecting really nice, happier things this year. Am praying for the simplest thing really; to be happy.

With the highs and lows of 1431/2010 now put to bed and plans pretty much visualized for 1432/2011, I have one over-riding New Year's ambition:

I want to be better at everything I do. Like a lot, lot better. I want to make every single thing matters and better!

Well, of couse I’d be adding more to the resolution list in the near future. Which most would not be carried out or achieved. Hey, I’ll make it happen this time. Yiiiieha!

Yikes, make way for my conscious, highly composed self to speak:

Ehem.

I think that the biggest problem with New Year's resolutions is that people (especially me) have grandiose and unrealistic ideas, promise that they will fulfill them in the coming year, then in many cases, don't manage to succeed.

However, I believe that if one merely resolves to attempt to change something for the better (realizing full well that one might not succeed), and does so with you know, realistic expectations, this can be a good thing.

Good luck!

Wishing you

happy memories of the past and

a great beginning for the coming of

HIJRAH 1432

Until it's time

2010-11-30T02:23:00.000-08:00

I’ve done a mistake. I mean, I’ve done many mistakes before but last night is a new record.

I’ve hurt someone and I feel bad. It’s a new feeling. Guess I’ve finally collected the luggage left unattended at the airport months ago, and now I’m restoring my feelings and sensitivity clothes to their original spaces again in the heart compartment.

I ought to say that ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘I didn’t mean what I did or what I said’ but I just can’t. At least not yet.

………………..... (?)

No. I am not ready. I’m repacking. I shouldn’t have the luggage opened in the first place. I shouldn't have. Yes, that’s it. I’m putting all back inside.

A longing.

2010-11-25T00:54:00.000-08:00

After spending many ridiculous hours working on papers, it turned out that the internal deadline have passed without anyone knowing. I can only hope it was a joke.

Before you know it, it’s already the last week of November. Whooosh. Making friends with the bullet train aren’t you, dear time?

I've been reading articles and articles for class.

I’m reading ungrateful undergrads’ write ups which more than half of them bringing regretful tears into my eyes out of their lack of originality and passion.

I'm reading books and books in an attempt to catch up and have better look on my proposal.

I'm not reading enough though.

I'm not reading enough fiction. I miss reading fiction. So much.

It’s been awhile since I sat quietly, holding a novel in my hand, and merrily breathed in the words, as the world faded in the background.

I have a stack of new fictions on my shelf (looking sadly at them now). They are exciting books. Good ones.

I wish I had the time to read them.

*sigh

Mental note: It cuts both ways.

2010-11-25T00:16:00.000-08:00

It cuts both ways
Our love is like knife
That cuts both ways
It's driven deep into my heart each time
That I realize
How it cuts both ways
Can't be together
Cannot live apart
We're heading straight into a broken heart
But I can't stop

'Cause I feel too much to let you go
I'm hurting you and it's hard I know
To stay and fight for what we've got
Knowing it'll never be good enough
'Cause you and I are dangerous
We want too much and life ain't that way
Don't ask for more
You'd be a fool
Haven't we already broken every rule

It cuts both ways, we're in too deep for sorry alibis
Can't have regrets or even question why
We can't say goodbye
Because it cuts both ways
No more illusions of the love we make
No sacrifice would ever be too great
If you would just stay

'Sampai bila-bila'

2010-11-09T16:59:00.000-08:00

Dear Diary,

Yesterday, I've lost it again. I poured my heart out, in fact I even revealed some things that even to myself I don't have the courage to tell (*sigh.. yeap, that bad)

I was in a state so vulnerable that I simply opened up and spilled.

I was asked again and again to simply open my eyes. To allow the reality to kick in. Close friends are worried that I might hurt people who really care about me along the way if I keep doing this.

Yesterday, I longed for something that was mine. Yesterday I forgot to breathe and instead, I tried to reach for uncertainty.

Love does that to you. To me, I mean.

I went to sleep with a sore heart. Heartbroken. Big time, again. Then I woke up at 4 am. Everything came flashing in my mind while succumbing to darkness early in the morning.

I can't let go. 'Sampai bila?' they asked. I simply shrugged my shoulders.

'Bila-bila. Sampai bila-bila.'

What we cannot change

2010-11-02T03:03:00.001-07:00

Dear Diary,

Here’s another love song that tugs, that speaks about relationships and choosing acceptance instead of conflict.

“I will learn to let go what I cannot change

I will learn to forgive what I cannot change

I will learn to love what I cannot change

But I will change, I will change

Whatever I, whenever I can”

I have accepted the fact that we cannot fix everything, nor do I believe everything is meant to be fixed. Some things just are. The sooner we stop trying to change things and learn to embrace complexity, mystery, and wonder, we will find an enormous source of peace.

When we come head to head with what we cannot change, we have a choice to let it go, to forgive, or to love. Perhaps the latter is the hardest for most to understand. I think it’s wise to say “I will learn [to let go, to forgive, to love] what I cannot change.”

It is not easy. It hurts.

It is a process, and one that we may not fully understand until we’ve been there and come out on the other side. It is possible to love what you cannot change, to embrace it, and to find beauty and truth in even the smallest of joys and heartaches.

The defiant resolution “but I will change” is really the key in my opinion. While we often have little power over situations or people in our lives, we have complete control over our own thoughts and actions. We begin by taking responsibility for and owning our baggage: When I need to get my way I know how to pour it on thick… the pain is self-inflicted… I can’t care about how everyone else really feels, I have enough hurt of my own to heal.

It may be “easier to please the world than it is to please myself,” but we have to learn to make ourselves happy and find fulfillment in ourselves and not in others. Relying on things, circumstances, or people to make you happy is futility.

Thing is, it is an amazing song full of powerful truths that could take years to discover and a lifetime to learn. I am a bit lucky to finally get it when others can’t. Or won’t.

Ada apa dengan ikan?

2010-11-01T02:03:00.000-07:00

Here's something about me. I have never, ever taken care of fishes. The idea of feeding them, cleaning their tank etc seem to be out of reach. Seriously.

Truth is, I am not into fishes in aquariums but wait, there's one, ONE exception. The aquarium/tank should be really big and spacious so that they all can happily swim all over. I pity those fishes that are quite big and yeah, I know they are really nice to look at but still, their movements (is that the right word?) are limited. I can't stop myself thinking that they are better off in the river(?), ocean (?) or other places.

Anyway, to cut a long story short, students from one of my classes gave me this:

I was taken by surprise at first, because chocolates, shawls, oranges (CNY y'all) etc would be some of the common gifts from students but a fish?! Gees. After a total one minute quietly staring numbly at the small tank, I started beaming from ear to ear. A cute gift, don't you think?! LOL

However, after a few minutes more, I started to panic. I have zero experience, I repeat, zero experience handling fishes, mind you. The fact that they provide everything plus the food and all didn't help me any better at the time. It was a hilarious moment for me and the kids for a while there.

Now I have both the art of fishes and a living fish! Yieha! Yes, you can have the real one because I worry I might innocently kill the fish earlier than I expect (in fact right now, I am fighting the urge to keep feeding the fishy- words from my students echo 'Feed it only twice a day, Miss. And not more than 4 pellets')

I was like, 'Not more than 4 small, tiny pellets??! You're joking, right'. Gees. Yes, you can have the living, swimming fishy but not the beautiful, gold-coloured fishes. The accessory box is ultimately mine forever. A special gift from Vietnam. *wink

Now if you'll excuse me, I have an additional mission in my office; staring at a bluish, tropical fish.

A fish may love a bird, but where would they live?
~ Drew Barrymore

Left unsaid.

2010-10-18T00:42:00.000-07:00