honest to blog

so here we are at that time of the year again…

my pretty little head is emitting some ringing sound that is annoying the equilibirium system within my ears. maybe it’s the pillow i’m sleeping on, or simply the lacking amount of snoozefest if at all. either way, some clocks that have been taking reside at the base of my spine is tapping my eyelids open and they are tapping hard. the bright light seeping uninvitingly through my window blinds are not helping much either. but that’s fine. uhmmm … ok, i’m awake. now what?

bone’s calling. it’s been a while since the last time i showered her with my undivided attention and sincere affection. funny thing really. i feel guilty. after all the times she’s been used and abused for my own selfish amusement; as a tool of escape from boredom, or frustrating therapeutic sessions, she deserves better than just the frequent graveyard situations i’ve been leaving her with. after all, we went through a lot together.

anyway, it’s that time of the year again. around this time last year, i was a few thousands feet above the ground, leaving las vegas and on my awesome way back to san fransisco. this year, i’m finding myself having to work till an hour before countdown, and with some plans to party up a (hopefully) pg-rated storm thereafter. despite all the less-than-pretty things that happened in my life so far, i figured that to count my blessings is the only way to go. this is a notorious timeline in the world really. right when i’m ready to go out and jump into its water. who knows what 2009 may bring?

there are times when i feel that to dream is futile. and reality is a very cunningly insistent son of a gun. but really, i shouldn’t waste what’s this great thing that’s been given simply. lest youth waste me away. for this i’ll try to promise myself; to take and inhale happiness in the little things and every time i’m given the chance to meet one. even if it’s not served up on a silver platter with cherry lemons on top. i’ll try not to be wary of the bad guys that i’d always suspected is lurking around the corner whenever those butterflies make their way into my tummy.

i’ll absorb what life will let me have. i’ll treasure moments and seconds, every detail. i’ll appreciate this. i’ll keep challenging myself; be it by looking at things from different perspectives or anything adding to the awesomisation of my character. i’ll learn more about art in movies and music, and not simply settle for anything that’s easy or even logical. maybe i’ll learn to wear my heart on my sleeve. i’ll let me cry, and pick myself up again afterwards. i’ll laugh, i’ll be silly, i’ll listen to more stories strangers will serenade me with. i’ll hope, i’ll be cheesy, i’ll be naive. and i’ll clean up my room if i plan to. once in a while, i’ll even try out that new corner bistro or alley-way bar i’ve just discovered. i’ll try, and try with an open mind and cloudy efforts. i’ll be good. i’ll be bad. i’ll live. and i’ll keep writing about it.

so bone, it’s good to have you buddy. and all things awesome require a form of exit only so deserving. with fascination, tears and all things colourful paper-y. with a bang.

BANG!

“Bliss it was in that dawn to be alive, but to be young was very heaven.”

- Wordsworth

 

was walking by on top of a bridge in perth a few months ago when the paternal decided to use the restroom and i waited nearby with the maternal. a young boy, shorter than little short me just left the restroom. he could be ten, he could be thirteen, didnt’ matter, his eyes said he could all be eighteen. he’s got a backpack and a piercing on his ear.

“can i get a dollar?” he inquired to my mother, kid hadn’t even break his puberty vocal.

my mother turned to me.

“sorry, haven’t got any,” i replied, looking around.

“i just need a dollar for the train fare,” he said again.

i shrugged, “don’t have any.”

“ya,” he answered with a certain annoying melody.   

“nope, sorry…” i stood my ground.

“ya,” sing-songed the kid with no singing upon any kind of song.

“wha…?”

“yahhh, ya you have,” kid went again, a little bit more accusingly.

i shrugged again. i kinda pitied the rude kid. but a friend of mine once told me that a lot of people ask others for money on the street to buy some booze or drugs or stuff. i was just practising caution. but ended up looking like i was this little inhumane mutha-flippin’ son of a witch.

the kid took off and approached a ticket machine. my father exited the restroom and we walked towards the other end of the bridge, and had to pass the kid again in the process.

“excuse me, sir. can i get a dollar?” he asked my father.

my father looked to me, and i anwered back, “no, he hasn’t got any.”

“i was asking him, not you,” kid said.

“tough luck…” i mumbled.

it’s just a dollar, i told myself. it’s not like he’d be able to start an underground illegal substance network with that kind of money. or even purchase firearms to rob some banks. for all you know, he might be trying to return home to his faily or something.

but he could use the money to get on a train to meet “the man” and start this organ black market operation. honey, the possibilities are endless, another side reminded me.

in times like these, i really wish that i could be a better judge of character. level-headedness has not been a quality of mine lately. and so is reasoning. is it so insane to be so paranoid most of the time?

“so where are you from?”

“indonesia.”

“here for studies? holiday?”

“ya.”

“okay…”

i knew i was being a curt little bitch. why, i, or rather we as a supposedly collective entity, just lost two of our luggage. some virgin airplane system casualty, i suppose. and someone in particular just had to have the opinion that i, and only i, was at fault. holiday, my foot.

the shuttle driver for the car rental station finally dropped us at the designated area. i gathered my stuff (or what’s left of it) and marched quickly towards the counter to sign some papers. it was around 9.30ish in the evening. why the heck did i pick a semi red eye anyway?

after the usual legal stuff, we went out to inspect the car. and someone on my party went full throttle on it. not a speck was missed.

“wow, he could really get a job doing this.”

“yeah…” i replied, and flashed him my ironic smile, another patented of mine. i just wanted to get this done and over with. but that was when i noticed his wristband. and somehow i thought about jimi hendrix.

“okay, if you would come around here, there are some teeny-tiny scratches and peeled-off paints, but that’s alright. this is a white car and the weather hasn’t been friendly.”

“uh-huh…”

“so…” he turned to me, “do you know how to open the trunk?”

eh, i must have looked so dumb, no?

“pull that thing right there?” i asked, pointing at a button with an outline of a car and an opened trunk on it.

“wrong.” he then proceeded to the back of the car, “there was a lady who rented this car and found herself stuck after accidentally dropping the car key in the trunk and closing it. she spent three hours trying to force open the trunk. and when she finally *click* press this thing right here, it opens right up. you can tell she wasn’t really happy about it.”

i smiled, “that’s unfortunate…”

“and now, here’s the complimentary map for brisbane and gold coast. here’s how you use it. this part right here…”

*hotel room music*

“so,” he finally finished, “would like me to show you how to get to your apartment address?”

“sure…” i said.

“no, i can’t,” he replied, “just kidding, here i’ll show you,” and he proceeded to write lines, crosses and some scribbles on the map while i looked on.

“and just so you know, in brisbane, there are no supermarkets or stores that open after 6 much less 24 hours.” i looked at him minimally weird and wondered how did he know we were looking for a supermarket. maybe he caught something from the conversation i had with mum earlier.

“however, near where you’re staying tonight, there is this place called stop ‘n save,” and he wrote down the name of said place on the map. “it’s really close to your apartment, two to three buildings away. you won’t miss it,” he continued. “and it opens 24 hours. how do i know? because i used to work there.”

“nice…” and i mentally made a blueprint for a shrine dedicated to him. grocery handlers have never looked so sexy.

“okay, so, what did i say about getting there again?” he turned into something that somehow reminded me of early primary school time. only cuter.

“down this road, and right this way…” i answered, playing along.

“and what did i tell you about that particular road?” he interrupted.

“err…keep…left?” i stuttered back.

“correct. and when you get here, remember to go below 60. the camera could get up to 1200 a day just from that lane.” he seriously (and adorably) pointed out.

“got it. okay. so, can i make some scribbles on the map as well?” i inquired.

“well, yea sure. and then i could keep it and sell it on ebay once you got famous.” he answered.

sigh, what shrine? i was organising a cult. how could you not love this guy?

“okay then. we’re all set. by the way, can you tell we just lost our luggage?” i nodded towards the leftover of our traveling supplies.

“why? what happened?” he asked with … (running out of adjectives to use here, help!) and such concerned smile.

“the airline messed it up.” i shrugged.

“so are you going to share your clothes or something?”

i gave it a thought.

“nah, i’d probably just sew something out of the curtain.”

“ha ha ha, okay. that guitar yours?” he pointed.

“nope, it’s my sister’s.” i answered. “well then, we better go now. i’m quite bad at navigating when there’s no sun,” i moved up.

“alright. by the way, my name is Mark. if you need anything, just give a ring.”

“sure, thanks a lot. really.” i shook his hand back.

more than just mean it, i did. someone, something, somewhere, somehow just place this (awesomely super awesome) guy right there to -for lack of better words - show the light on a dark brisbane night.

cheese, i know. but i was a total damsel in distress.

oh, did i mention that he was insanely* cute and totally my type?

heh heh.

*)technically, everything is technical.

i was ordering some grubs at the cashier from a fast food joint restaurant when a young boy looking kinda young enough to still giggle uncontrollably from some toilet jokes came up beside me. why, nobody knows nothing about manners no more nowadays.

the little boy tried to talk to the cashier who was OBVIOUSLY still taking up my orders. and by the blue blue sky, there was not a soul standing behind me. would it melt his skin or gauge out his eyes out if he’d just wait for another 5 minutes? i guess it would. so the cashier asked the little boy to wait for a few minutes while she collected my order. a cup of hot water for tea has then been placed on my designated tray and the cashier scurried back again to retrieve my chicken parts. it was then that out of the corner of my eye, i spied the little brat moving his hands towards my cup and taking it back. all in flash time, mind you. bet he didn’t think i caught that. bless my vision.

i felt like a little trouble anyway. and the universe offered an excuse.

“excuse me, did you touch the cup? or the water?” and just for fun, i got my patented alaskan-cold stare on.

“no, i didn’t!” he answered back. interesting, he didn’t look at me in the eye. sigh, it’s the end of the world as we know it.

“you know, i saw you,” i egged on.

“no, no, i didn’t, no!”

“you did…”

“no…no…”

“excuse me, miss. may i get a replacement for my cup of hot water? he touched it.” i sweetly asked the cashier. if i had learned anything out of the jungle of primary school, it’s that it always pays to act like the goody-two-shoes.

“oh okay, sorry about that,” the cashier complied.

“i didn’t touch it! not on that part anyway!” little boy mumbled to i-have-no-idea-who. and if anyone has watched my little epic war, they would have noticed the invisible writing of 1-0 for the lovely young lady on the invisible writing board.

so i picked up my tray and smiled my victory way down to what i hope was a fine short assassination byproduct of moral casualty. then i reflected on my naughty little self. and how i spent the last 10 minutes like some kind of a trouble-seeking missile. it has been known that my extended maternal family members were the types who would challenge authority (ie. lecturers who think the world of themselves) if they think they are on the right. it has also been known that there are lots of activists striving to bring awareness to the causes they believe in. me? i guess i’m cheap that way.

well, he started it…

Don’t hold yourself like that
You’ll hurt your knees
I kissed your mouth and back
That’s all I need
Don’t build your world around
Volcanoes melt you down

And what I am to you
Is not real
And what I am to you
You do not need
And what I am to you
Is not what you mean to me
You give me miles and miles of mountains
And I ask for the sea

You give me miles and miles of mountains
And I ask…

What I give to you
Is just what I’m going through
This is nothing new
No, no, just another phase of finding
what I really need
Is what makes me bleed
Like a new disease
But still too young to treat

Volcanoes melt you down…

by: Damien Rice

am not usually the type of person who wears her heart on her sleeve. most of the time, my emotional chip gravitates more towards subtlety or some very, very delayed response. so far, this works for me.

i had just finished processing some good conduct certificate for my visa’s penal clearance, and was walking back towards the car with my parent that day. to get there, i actually had to walk past some kind of boarding house for rookie police and luck placed me chronologically synchronised with the loading of some mini troops unto uncomfortable-looking vehicles. maybe it was the heat, or maybe the fact that i had to pay for some "administration" fee to retreive the certificate was getting to me. either way, those government minions, and a cornucopia of them, were giving catcalls and wolf whistles and whatever it is that neanderthals do. and it got to me. bad. nothing really artery-bursting. but bad nonetheless. and to think that they wouldn’t actually act the same had they not been in groups. and here’s to hoping that their camaraderie would actually produce certain benefits for the betterment of society of the amount directly correlative with that of the taxpayers’ money. am personally not against public appreciation stares. i do that some times as well. and if people, and there are still many of these fine specimens left, can just do that with respect, that would be really nice. i’d say bless you and may your souls go gleefully to heaven.

and as for the other kind. particulary THAT other kind. well, let’s just say that i had to act like the educated, mature, nice little lady that i was.

i told them to go to the other side.

and that they should go do it like they do on the discovery channel to themselves.

guess it’s about time to bring some sense and sensibility back to the drawing board…

that i should be scared. very, very scared.

turns out that the world is way bigger out there than the usual never-ending academic life and afternoon extra-curricular ballet courses. that the super-almighty ministry of schooling in their self-entitled glory of so much self-importance, is not that super-almighty after all. turns out that that particular power-hungry control freak machine has been making me undergo tests and exams that are nothing short of like real life. and in the process, has been conditioning my simpleton brain into believing that those tests and exams ARE real life. and there goes some late-night memorising on some fabricated history lessons. though little miss me 2008 would believe that the truth is relative after all. and it turns out that if i don’t have any idea on how many floors does the local government office building has, i can still survive another day.

that said, the me 1998 should not fret so much. it turns out that one can stay up even after the 9pm news and that one doesn’t have to finish all those pesky veggies on those dinner plates if one doesn’t wish to in 2008.

word.

what is philosophy, really?

it’s naught but learning about "dead guys who came up with the answers to questions no one asked" - s.c.

always brings tears to me eyes…

i describe myself as self-driven.

so self-driven, in fact, that my source of drive should only come from my very own awesome little self. if anybody else attempts to drive me to do something, i’d make the outmost effort to refrain from doing whatever it is that said anybody else pushes me to do. all in the name of ensuring the genuine maintenance and integrity of my self-driven quality. even when i have had the intention and some motivation to perform a certain task. if some dudes or dudettes pop in in the middle of my thinking process, and decide to voice out their concerns and encouragements, i would rather choose to wait and postpone that thing that i planned to do. because then, if the task is done, i would be dudes-or-dudettes-driven. but if nobody else is pushing me to do something, then i’d have delay in hope for the revelation of the perfect time to execute the actions. if not, that would be circumstantially-driven in all technicality. makes one think that one has to do something ’cause one has to do it. and if it’s that important, why is nobody else reminding me to do it? that’s a form of personal principles’ selling out, mind you. and i don’t want that.

yep. i’m a purist that way.

- Procrastinator Anonymous -