Revelation

Today I said it, and it made me take a step back and look at myself, the situation
the people, actions, world, spinning on axis before me.

"I'm so fucking scared I'll get married because I'm bored."

In with the NY/CNY festivities in the past months, I've caught up with so many
that I haven't seen in a long time and the initial response is always the same
"You've been in KL for over 2 years?, that's a record for you!"

It is, KL for upwards of 2, Malaysia for upwards of 3.

I need a change of scene, a challenge.

And don't get me wrong, I do want marriage, kids, the whole she-bang
but right now, it terrifies, or maybe I just haven't met the sort of
person that it takes to move me into that sort of sphere yet.

And maybe I'm not done being just me.

Eyes

My boss and I are pretty close
So the other day she asked me for a usual, after work drink.

"Can't, I've got a date.'
"Is it a blind date?.'
"No, but if I married this guy I'd have to be blind"
"Maybe you can stab your eye with a fork.."
"Maybe I need two forks."
"Better use teaspoons, then you can save them as souvenirs."
"Yes, they can be his wedding gift.."
"You bring new meaning to the term 'beauty is in the eyes of the beholder."


A few days later...

I forward her an email that someone has written in very bad english to me
saying "You think this is bad, you should have heard him on the phone,
made me want to stab my eyes out"

She replied with , "You can't, you have to save them for your husband-to-be"

"PS this -_- is what you will look like when you give him your eyes."

Damn kwai lan.

Masochistic Me

I cancelled a date today in favour of the company of my colleagues/friends
who say that I should save my 'date cancelling' template
so that I don't have to sit with them and plot, each time.

And it wasn't until I sat down with them, took the first sip of wine
that I realised that I was upset.

I told them what I did, masochistic me,
how the permeation of scent served to remind me
the clinging embrace

And they said 'Oh Aj..' and stroked my hair

And sometimes, sometimes I want to stop being the strong one
but I don't know how.

Sometimes, I wonder if its time to stop deflecting, start engaging
stop saying 'we can't' and starting saying 'this is how we can'.

Work Fun

I pick up a colleagues call while she's on another line and MSN her about it after.


Me: (11:54:01 AM)
fong teng from ****** has just return your call

Me: (11:54:10 AM)
she wants you to return it back

Me: (11:54:15 AM)
to her, obviously

Me: (11:54:24 AM)
what kind of a game are you guys playing?

:p

Her: LOL, phone tag apparently!!


This you can do to highly stressed people when they are fielding calls all day and you are 15 minutes to a half day off before a long weekend holiday break at a boutique resort on a beautiful island with a catamaran to sail around the islands and cooking onboard while dolphins trail the boat with your kid sister on her first holiday with you since your mum passed away and ever *DEEP BREATH*


Gotta go!

Month Two

Two months ago, I arrived in Penang for my best friend's baby shower.
A week(or two?) later, I sat in the airport to leave, still coming to terms with
all that had happened, finding my mother dead after the baby shower,
making arrangements with my aunt in the funeral house, the mortuary
the wake, the funeral, the crematorium, cleaning out her effects,
her entire life..just gone..
so unexpectedly. I tried to write this then.

~~~~~~~~

No matter what you envision when you think about the people closest to you dying,
nothing ever prepares you for the fact.

Your imagination cannot begin to conjure it.

It’s been a week since we found mother, tried to get into the locked front grill,
then once we were in, battering down the room door.

A week since I looked at Cheryl and told her I did not want her there,
I could not have her there.

I thought that mum had finally gone and done it,
the suicide that she’d threatened off and on.

And I could not bear Cheryl’s last memory of our mother being this.

There was a flicker of optimism, maybe that she’d just needed a break,
gone on a holiday, away somewhere.

That thought filled me with anger, for making us worry,
Cheryl at 14.

But deep down inside of me, I already knew she wasn’t there.
I couldn’t feel her presence.

I took Cheryl downstairs, called her dad, called my aunt.

I had awoken early that morning, gripped with a slow panic.
And I told Sean at lunch, I said ‘I think my mum is dead.’

Cheryl and I had been trying to reach her all of the day before (Friday)
I called John, he said he’d tried Thursday.

So after I left John battering the door and I took Cheryl downstairs,
he phoned me to tell me that ‘Mummy is gone, Ja, she’s gone’
and I said ‘What do you mean gone?’ turning away so Cheryl couldn’t hear me.

‘Gone’.

I told Cheryl.

My aunt says we were crying when she arrived, but everything for me,
from then is a blur. I remember bits and pieces, others my friends and aunts fill in.

I remember Vig, Kok Meng, Chee Tuck and Ian arriving.
Me telling them point-blank. Asking Vig to go and check.

Aunt Nat says that I was crying on the phone, I kept telling her to
"Just come home, just come home!"


I never thought that I’d find myself in the mortuary 9.30pm,
Saturday, September 26, signing the papers to release my mother's
body. Or there again to identify her, pick her up and take her to the
funeral parlour.

I never thought at 26, that there would be no mum.

I never thought that I would have to collect her death certificate, anyone's death cert
at this point in my life.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And then I couldn't write anymore, I boarded my flight and I came back to KL.
Joe called me out for a drink, I said I'd just have one, I was pooped.
He said "You'll have as many as I deem fit."

And now, sometimes I forget, I look at my phone, I think
"Oh, I'll call mum" then realisation hits.

Sometimes I dream about her, wake up crying, and I can't say I regret

but I feel the loss of all the things that I had planned to do with her
how I had planned to try and mend our relationship
move away from last year and what we had been in my teenage years

I wanted to stop being the mother, be more of her friend,
then have her be more of my mother.

And now, when I watch a movie with the slightest familial
or even romantic emotion in it, I'm waterworks
because I miss her for all the times in my future that I will need her
my next heartbreak, my marriage, my children.

For Cheryl, finishing highschool, going away to college
for Cheryl growing up.

So, two months on, I really hope she's in a better place.
And it was peaceful, I'm glad it was peaceful, because my biggest nightmare
is that it wasn't.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cheryl and I go on our first holiday together in 2 weeks
Two sisters, different fathers, 400km and 12 years apart

We will be on a boat sailing the Andaman sea towards Thailand
I dreamt of it, of dolphins trailing behind us, her face lighting up
and I can see us, our feet dipping in the salty water
wishing our mum was with us somehow.

Communication

I suddenly remember that I am supposed to remind C about dinner..

A:Please notes that yous and Is ares supposed to having dinners tomorrows

C: And Is ares?Dinners noted.Qui tiam ar?

A: Dunno. You wanting to coming to town or I meets yous somewheres?

C:Vat dju vaan tu eet?

A:Maybe we theenks abouts it tomorrows. You have thoughts?

C:Haf huf tots ov za pasta. Yummmmmmmmm

A:Oowh..za pasta there's many good!here. Za Neros, za baritalia, za chiarascuro, za ciccio, za sumfink sumfink..many!many!

C:Okay!Zapasta eet ees!I za hungwy nao.

A:I jez eet za beeg salat. Why you no eet?

C:I eet. Juz zapasta toto zoundz good.

A:Ohkey! Tomorrow we eet zapasta!We try za new gutt!

C:Hokay! Eesa dade.

A:Wooooh!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


A:We are such lamers. Taking an evening walk on my own and *CRACKING* up! :p

C:HAHAha. Penang beeble are spechul.


Indeed.

Silence

It is an unsaid, intangible "Are we okay?"

but, yes, yes we are.

Rub My Temple

If this is not whipped into place
I could start my own forest reserve.

Time/Games

The push and pull
the ebb and flow
the struggle, the ease
the tease

Why do we play these games, unwittingly
whether or not we want to

Working so hard to make all things fall into place
and some will tell you, 'it isn't so hard'
that if it is then its probably not right, not worth it

Yet others will say that pain, suffering, work
are part and parcel of life

So what now?

Patience is apparently what I lack.
and so I am half-half

I want to ask, I want to say
So you don't waste your time or mine
'what do you want of me?'
but then what does that start/end
and am I ready for it?

I dipped my feet in
You let them languish
I will dip no further
And the pool, if you do not feed it
will evaporate
uncovering my feet
leaving them free to walk on

A Dream

I dreamt of mother last night
probably not for the first time, but it is the first time
that it is recalled with clarity.

We had found her again, and she was cold as stone
So we wrapped her up, in the kind of linen nappies that
you wrap babies in
It seemed she had been gone for two weeks
And as we were wrapping, she woke

And I remember thinking about all the arrangements
made, the money spent and how come she could be
gone two weeks and suddenly wake?

The next scene and it is a beautiful day
and for some reason we are rushing to the airport
through immigration
I've forgotten my passport

Then mother is at the top of a high building
I can't see the top it's so high and concealed by mist and clouds
and mother jumps
and as she plunges to the bottom
I remember thingking 'There is no way someone can survive this'
and she lands in a ripple-less dive in the pool at the bottom
and then she resurfaces, grinning.

What does it mean? What does it mean?

Sticking

Some of my close male friends I've insisted on calling by other names.
names that to me, seem to suit them better.

Like how R is Pete and A is Joe.

So couple of months ago, Joe, who has relentlessly fought being called
Joe for about 10 years, introduces me to his friend Joe.

"Nah Ja, this guy is also another Joe.."

My eyes meet his in mirth as realisation of his subliminal acceptance
is registered.

:D

MMJ

Office space sharer : Why have you looked so sad recently?
Me: My mother just died a month ago.

I say it bluntly, to wound rather than invite sympathy
for I've never taken to her and her pink crocs
and then I feel bad.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Walking to work today shuffling through Augie March, Art of Fighting and Kings of Leon
I thought 'Oh I must listen to My Morning Jacket'
so I did, and I must have momentarily gotten distracted
because I was surprised to be struck by how much I like,
no, love My Morning Jacket.

The best.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cooked cous cous and lamb and roast potatoes in duck fat for
three people last night, starting at 8.30pm, these latin people sure eat late
last arrival at 9pm (with a bottle of choya for moi!)
and they help me, stir, chop, peel, as I season

"Soy sauce?really?" they say when I marinate the lamb with
We duck and stretch, all four of us in the tiny kitchen
they pass a joint, I sip from my wine-glass
we sit down at 9.30

grilled lamb, cous cous, vegetable and chickpea stew
golden roast potatoes, pan con tomate, grilled pumpkin and eggplant
mint and redcurrant jelly, just us four and the table is laden

First we are famished, then too soon, we are unable to eat, move, speak
"Can I offer you anything?" my hosts say while I try to figure out
how to move
"If you're going to offer me anything, offer me a bed".

One Month

Today marks a month since we found my mother,
but I'd say a month plus a day or two since her death.

I went back to Penang this past weekend,
to see family, to see my best friend and her new baby
and came back late last night, exhausted to the core.

And today someone asked me "Was it difficult?"

"Was it difficult, or were you iron-strong as usual?"
I said to her that while it wasn't that difficult, it was just tiring.

Being strong and calm and collected is just tiring
but I don't know how to be anything but.

I wonder if I'll ever learn
Sometimes I feel like I am made of stone
so conditioned am I to dealing with the tough
that fragility is lost.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My sister and I, hand-in-hand lying in bed
talking about her dreams about our mum,
hand-in-hand, at the market, picking out flowers
to put at her grave,
we decided on a red and white colour theme
she picks the whites, I pick the reds

At the grave, we sit on the marble, rub the dust off (There's dust already?!?)
of the picture of mum smiling
and then we busy ourselves arranging flowers
over mummy and nanna, stripping off leaves, thorns
five minutes, ten, twelve past
I stand up, look over at the kid
"Ready?"

We stand hand-in-hand at the foot of mother's grave
and I say "May her soul rest in peace"
my sister says "Amen" the same time I start to continue with
"and let the perpetual light shine upon her o lord"

"You got it wrong che-che!" she says
"Oh whatever!" I say as we make our way through the headstones and weeds.

And then its done.

Chat

I am chatting with my three aunts

who are together in Singapore

One from Penang, on from Japan, one from Singapore

They have been sad they say, thinking of my mother

feeling guilt for not being there enough,

solitary, weepy

so they've come together for support (and shopping)

and things are slightly better.

I remember the last time I was in SG, the same three aunts

plus one

And we were playing cards, eating Chinese devil curry

and aunt Nat said " I wish Mina were here"

and then everyone snapped at her for, thinking but not doing

but I guess in our own ways, we all did what we could

They tell me that they have to go, they got

"Noodles and then shopping"

They tell me they love me

"Have fun!" I say

"Don't die".

Tooth & Nail

I sometimes feel like I am struggling, hanging on

by the skin of my teeth

to something where the end is inevitable

And yet though I know it, know rationally how this story will play out

for this goes against common sense

I have stopped trying to fathom

how it has such a hold on me

It is a cycle that I must go through, masochistic and self-damaging as it is

that I must wholly give in to it, before am wholly cleansed of it

I feel like I am treading in a river, the current somehow holding me aloft

I am trying to make my way towards the left bank,

despite seeing that it is crumbling into the water

and on the right bank, someone has tossed me a life line

but I cannot yet reach for it

not till I am ready, not till I am sure

even if you split my face into the widest of grins

It will take me being clean out of this mess before

I can even begin to clearly and fairly

assess the options that I am lucky enough

to be presented with.

But I've done this before, and though it doesn't get easier

it will pass, and life goes on, as it does.

Bruised

I took my heart out from its protective cover
placed it in my palm
held it out
and it got bruised.

But then, I knew it would.

And I am learning
that seeing other people only serves as temporary cover
adds confusion
and clarity where I don't want it.

Unless I can be so selfish as to tell someone
'don't fall in love with me'.

Unless I can draw lines across the blueprints of a 'relationship'
say 'this is what we are, what we can be'
'what I can give, but no more than this'
Is that fair?

Anew

In the past 24 hours, I have pondered the ease, speed and intensity of which
relationships are built online, and just as equally, their demise.

Since returning from Sydney, I have made two random friends online
and marveled at how little it takes for one to reveal oneself on the internet.

"A quick check online reveals that you have started two blogs and abandoned them," he said
"start a blog, write.."

And I though, "Why? what could I possibly say that is of any interest, significance, to anyone else?" (the precise reason I stopped blogging)

Then when I think about it, I always blogged for me, to sort of clear my mind,
say what I need to say
regardless of whether anyone reads or comments and etc

There was the question of whether I should start a new blog,
or just reopen my previous blog and start posting from there
because I always go back to it anyway, to touch base
to see how I have changed, progressed, matured in my insights
and I thought, "This is me, who I was, who I became, who I am becoming."

I worried about how people would just read me, and judge me from there,
never get to know the real me,
just assume they know from what they read

And here we are :)

Very often people say to me "You've done so much, experienced so much,
for someone your age."

And I think to myself these days,
"Really? How have I contributed positively to anyone but myself?
How am I any different?What difference am I making?"

But maybe that thought is what keeps me going.

Solitary Lunch

Today, my eyes are tired.

Lunch today, myself, a steaming, basil-laden bowl of pho
and The Diving Bell & The Butterfly.

Later I sat under the trees, just finished, contemplating the book
If anything, the sheer feat of producing this book makes
one review their own life, are they appreciating it enough
doing enough, living enough

And while I sat, three men sat down next to me
They asked me whether I work in the building
showed interest in the book, asked me about it

And for a split second, I was about to write them off
leave, go about with my own business
when I remembered how Mr PP and I we're having
a discussion about being so quick to write people off
and how I had resolved that I would now give people
a chance.

So I sat and summarised the book, how incredible
and thought provoking it is

As I shared the story, they shared with me other such stories
they told me of their work
then did a sales demo that astounded me
because I cannot speak to strangers like that,
let alone sell.

They asked me about me,
said there was boredom and sadness in my eyes
my background, my work, my daily life

And in the end, of course, asked to exchange numbers.

A card yes, numbers no. Email me.

In the end, it turned out to be enlightening,
to make such a connection however slight.

:)

High Enough From All The Waiting

Lalalalalalala such a nice day in the valley.

I was up high in the building, doing a quasi photoshoot when I peeked out
of the window,
the sky was clear, and you could see the mountains
surrounding us at the edges of the city.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

and I received a sweet gift today :)

I'm not an unhappy person, I realised as I was bopping down the
street home listening to Frou Frou. I caught myself dancing at the
traffic lights and had to stop for fear of being labeled freak.

Really, the slightest things make me happy.

But then the opposite works too.
Like I feel horrid when I decline to take a flyer
handed out by a person slicked in perspiration from standing in
the noon scorch.

I also have this inherent inability to sit still and watch life pass
me by, thus I try and embrace every second
that's why I don't get the people who just sit and wait
wait wait wait wait for what?
Life to pass you by?
You know some people are stuck, you know they have no choice?
You do.
Scared.

There's so much to take in, so much to be grateful for and gracious about,

even a connection is hard to make these days
but I guess there are some things that even the best of us
must let pass us by.

Trust me to come back from Ho Chi Minh City and crave
Vietnamese food everyday.
Yesterday for lunch, then dinner.

And today maybe dinner :)

I should stop sweating.

I should reply to that sms. 4 days late!

And oh yes, I've decide to give people more of a chance.
Because of karma and all you know, and because
I want to be a nice person (not that I am'nt already)

Exhausted!

It is one thirty in the morning in Saigon and dew has begun to settle
I am on the back of a motorbike barrelling down the tree-lined avenue
towards Ben Thanh Market

Save for my driver, I am alone in the wee hours of the morning
and I feel safe, like Copenhagen felt.

We stop at the market, my driver procures a bag of thumbnail sized longans
and hands them to me, we can barely communicate

He takes me around, to sights he thinks might interest me
He patiently takes photo after photo as I starfish :)

Later, wending our way down a street he says
"Madam, I very like you."

I say thank you.

He asks for my number.

I ask to go home.

And that's how my last night in Saigon ended.

Photos on FB and http://picasaweb.google.com/aja.belle/Saigon#.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I am so grateful for the friends that I am blessed with :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Its uncanny, whenever they sense that you no longer think of them,
they always pop up.

But there is no goal to work to
Neither is there...I don't know I don't even know what it was
There's nothing for me to work with or
towards there
There was no communication and everything was
just at surface level
And more passive-ness than passion.

It's like taking up with a brick
when all around you...uh...flowers
are beckoning.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I said but two days ago
"I'm leaving in three months."
He said "We'll talk about it when we get home."

Lol.

~~~~~~~~~~~~