Monday, January 31, 2005

On a lighter note people, and to celebrate the less melancholic mood of my blog, here is some nonsensical thing to read if you are bored.

Maybe this is destiny. Maybe all this was meant to happen for a reason, to illuminate certain things to me. I've really learnt one big lesson in life, when you fall down hard, you'd become more cautious in the future.

Maybe I was naive.

I am.

Sigh. . . I have to find someone, a kindred spirit, who would share my burden and this heavy heart.

Somehow though I feel stronger, I do not have to let all this wear me down, I can choose to grow from all this. I just wanted to be me. That was all I wanted in the end. Not you. Not love. Just to be who I am.

Thank you, mastermind (yes, you manda). You have made me a stronger person, and shown me who my true friends are, even though their efforts may be misguided. Please forgive me if I have been harsh, I was really hurt. Maybe you did do the right thing that God told you to, just that for everything we do, sometimes . . there is always a price.

That's the sick reality of life.

Let's put it all behind us. We can't possibly be the same people, we have differing opinions. Let's just agree to disagree. And to caspian, thank you too. You are really a good friend, I know you always had good intentions, I really hope others can see what you now see in me. Please forgive me too, if I have been harsh and cold since that incident, I was still stubborn and confused. I hope that they too, would take the time out to read the articles I've posted, and have greater understanding on people like me. Society is so ill-and under-informed, I'm just trying my best to show you some things.

To all the loving friends I have, whom I may have hurt. I want to say a big sorry! I was just a very troubled and confused girl who couldn't think straight (haha pun intended!), I have a clearer mind now. And I will try less and less to think of the past . . . and now look to the future instead. Things that I may miss out on becos of this incident, I don't really care anymore, cos I see that there are better things in life in the end.

That really, we all deserve better. May all of us find our own answers one day. Maybe I'll find my God one day, but haha, its probably gonna be in a gay church! Pardon me for my rants these past few days, as you can see I was really crazed and frustrated, maybe not so anymore. I don't lament the things that could've been, or the losses that ocurred. It was never my choice to control such matters anyway. I'll let bygones be bygones, let time do its work (if there's any work worth doing).

Look to the future people, cos that's what I'm doing too and that's what you'll want me to do. Thank you for the experience.

Man I feel like a Buddha who has found Nirvana.

Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind . . . I feel uncluttered.

The APA Resolution on Appropriate Therapeutic Responses to Sexual Orientation
A Comment by Gregory M. Herek, Ph.D.


------------------


Attempts to use psychological interventions to change sexual orientation are based on the discredited claim that homosexuality is a disease, a notion that represents an attempt to use the language of science to promote antigay prejudice. That view is completely inconsistent with the bulk of scientific research and with the official policies of the American Psychological Association (APA) and the American Psychiatric Association.

It is highly doubtful that the so-called "conversion therapies" and "reparative therapies" are actually able to change a person's sexual orientation. Claims about their success are based on scattered anecdotal reports, not on rigorous scientific studies that have been subjected to review by other scientists.

Some individuals with a strong motivation to become heterosexual – often based on intense religious beliefs – claim to have changed their sexual orientation as a result of these therapies. Even if their claims about changing are accepted, however, there is no evidence that such change was brought about by the therapy. The change – if it occurred – may well have happened without therapy. And for every story about someone whose sexual orientation was supposedly converted to heterosexuality, there are many other reports of people who tried unsuccessfully to change and who endured a great deal of psychological pain and suffering in the process.

Even if reparative therapies were able to change the sexual orientation of a small minority of people, however, we would have to question their ethical basis. These treatments are simply an extension of society's prejudices against gay men and lesbians.

Typically, the people who seek a therapist's help to become heterosexual are reacting to society's intense antigay hostility. Often, they have been pressured to change by their family or their religious group.

Therapists have an ethical duty to resist such coercion. Instead of reinforcing the stigma attached to homosexuality, therapists should help gay people to understand their sexual orientation, integrate it into their identity and relationships, and learn how to lead a happy life.

The APA resolution is extraordinary mainly because of the serious ethical questions that it raises about attempts to change sexual orientation. It points out that these attempts at behavior modification are based on the erroneous premise that homosexuality is a mental disorder.

It also highlights the fact that many people who are the targets of reparative therapy are not able to give informed consent to the procedure. This is especially true for adolescents who are being coerced into treatment by their parents or other adults.

The resolution also reminds us that psychologists are ethically required to respect people's right to self-determination, to respect values different from their own, and to refrain from discriminating against people on the basis of their sexual orientation.

This resolution lays out a series of arguments that can be used in the future to challenge the ethics of individual attempts to change sexual orientation. It is an important action by APA to reaffirm its commitment to eradicating the stigma that has historically been associated with homosexuality.


--------

Thank God, I didn't listen to you people. Read this as well. To the mastermind, do you know why you wanted to change me? Its becos you choose to stay away from me, and you never knew me well enough to understand why you must let go . . .

Sunday, January 30, 2005

For all those out there, who think that they are doing the right thing by changing me (or pray for my change), should do some serious secular (and therefore not religiously biased) research before they come to any conclusion.

Do you really think what you are doing would make me happy?

Let me show you something. Read the rest of the related articles there, then maybe you'll have a better understanding of me, and then see why your actions have hurt so much. Maybe then you'll see why . . . and accept. Read this as well, do you want me to turn out like that? To suppress myself? Take a good look at the last paragraph, and what this kind of false charades do in the end to us.

In the past, christians persecuted jews (you learn it from shakespeare! Merchant of Venice! Don't deny the sins of our fathers and the sins you yourself may be commiting now! And just like in the past, you say you do it in the name of God! Who's the real sinner?) . . . now they are doing something else. We all make mistakes sometimes.

Maybe you are.

Really sweet and lovely definitions of love by 4-8 yr olds. Guess where I got this from? Herstory of cos!

*******

"What does love mean?"

A group of professional people posed this question to a group of 4 to 8-year-olds, "What does love mean?" The answers they got were broader and deeper than anyone could have imagined. See what you think:

"When my grandmother got arthritis, she couldn't bend over and paint her toenails anymore. So my grandfather does it for her all the time, even when his hands got arthritis too. That's love." Rebecca - age 8

"When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different. You know that your name is safe in their mouth." Billy - age 4

"Love is when a girl puts on perfume and a boy puts on shaving cologne and they go out and smell each other." Karl - age 5

"Love is when you go out to eat and give somebody most of your French fries without making them give you any of theirs." Chrissy - age 6

"Love is what makes you smile when you're tired." Terri - age 4

"Love is when my mommy makes coffee for my daddy and she takes a sip before giving it to him, to make sure the taste is OK." Danny - age 7

"Love is what's in the room with you at Christmas if you stop opening presents and listen." Bobby - age 5

"If you want to learn to love better, you should start with a friend whom you hate." Nikka - age 6

"There are two kinds of love. Our love. God's love. But God makes both kinds of them." Jenny - age 4

"Love is when you tell a guy you like his shirt, then he wears it everyday." Noelle - age 7

"Love is like a little old woman and a little old man who are still friends even after they know each other so well." Tommy - age 6

"My mommy loves me more than anybody. You don't see anyone else kissing me to sleep at night." Clare - Age 5

"Love is when mommy gives daddy the best piece of chicken." Elaine - age 5

"Love is when mommy sees daddy smelly and sweaty and still says he is handsomer than Robert Redford." Chris - age 8

"Love is when your puppy licks your face even after you left him alone all day." Mary Ann - age 4

"I know my older sister loves me because she gives me all her old clothes and has to go out and buy new ones." Lauren - age 4

"I let my big sister pick on me because my Mom says she only picks on me because she loves me. So I pick on my baby sister because I love her." Bethany - age 4

"When you love somebody, your eyelashes go up and down and little stars come out of you." Karen - age 7

"Love is when mommy sees daddy on the toilet and she doesn't think it's gross." Mark - age 6

"You really shouldn't say 'I love you' unless you mean it. But if you mean it, you should say it a lot. People forget." Jessica - age 8

You know, I always thought I had a strange problem at night. Sometimes I even wondered if I was possessed or something, cos I had what I thought was living nightmares. But recently I realized that I wasn't alone, and that it was something others had experienced themselves.

Taken from forums of herstory.ws

Read the first and last posts. I just had a waking nightmare like two days ago, and was scared shitless. And yeah, I had the hallucinations mentioned as well. Saw stuff moving on the walls and at the corner of my eye, body cannot move at all but eyes wide open. Freaky as hell.

Thank god for this website man, its been eye-opening for me! Oooh, and it also has many links to cool webpages hidden like gold nuggets in the forum discussions. Check this fast food one!


****

There are also homophobic lunatics out there who will never understand me. Just check out this girl's ranting, it so sad and depraved (read the 25th June posts, there's also quite a sarcastically funny post on butches further down the page from there).

This is the reason why people like me have to hide, not becos its God or whatever, its society that forces us to. But I don't really care about such people any more. Any person, who is homophobic or scared shitless by my preference, are really narrow-minded, and choose only to acccept their world view. Hey, we must agree to disagree right? Not everybody's opinion is correct. And shoving it down other peoples' throat is frankly, bad taste. Homophobes, if you here reading my blog, describes you, I'd rather not have you as a friend. So if I dont know who you are that is reading, and you are going all "ewww! I didn't know elsa was sucha sicko!" Well then, stay far awayyyy from me. I do not need such holier-than-thou, shallow people, who can only judge me by my sexuality and not the full person that I am.

Yes. I am still angry at the homophobia of this world. I suffered becos of people like you. But I know now that there is always a light at the end of the tunnel. I will find my anwsers one day. I'll find my own place in the sun.

I will just be me.

Saturday, January 29, 2005

I'm on herstory.ws now. And there is a whole TON of girls out there like me. They come in all shapes and sizes, totally different ages, races, backgrounds. My goodness! There is a whole entire underground! Of cos its probably not as massive as the gay community but nonetheless . .

There are people out there! All I need to do, is send an email to anybody, and I might make a friend, or two.

But I don't know, I feel scared. Cos my family sees my emails, and secondly, I've never approached anyone online before. Like I said, you can't really form a proper friendship online. You have to meet them face-to-face. Gosh, I don't know what to do. I wish there was someone in NJ like me, that would make things so much easier. I want to meet people!

Run free! Jump out! Jump high! Away from this existence! Away! Oh how wonderful it'll be to be free!

I wished someone would chase me. No, not courting. As in like playing catch. I want someone to chase me, try to tag me. And I'll run for my life across concrete, tiled floors and drains. Pass pillars, trees, other people. Zigzagging my way through. Suddenly, I'll swerve left and right, attempting to confuse. But it'll only produce laughter and breatheless giggles, as my catcher grasps nothingness in the space where I was, nano-seconds ago. And as we run, we don't really feel the spinning of our legs in blurry circles, we don't feel the exertion. But all we get is this incredible exhilaration and adrenaline rush. I've heard of the runner's high in endurance runnning. But there is also another high, which comes from spontaneous sprinting. And this high is one of joy . . . short, sharp, but incredible nonetheless.

I want somebody to chase me.

Make me giddy.


****


There's another way.

I could spin around in circles on the spot. Fling my arms out and
twirl
. . . twirl
. . . . . . . .twirl

Faster and faster, till the world is a blur. Feel the wind and my hair whipping against the sides of my face. My feet in ramdon rotation. Head thrown back.

Make me giddy.




I'm mad.


Actually, its more like I have nothing interesting to blog about and yet I still feel like expressing something, so . . .

Patience. My friend. Yes, you are still my friend. I haven't forgotten you, I have my plans, I'm not so silly. Not like last time long ago. I will undo the damage this has done to us.

Patience. For my wait for redemption will be longer than yours . . .

And I will follow what the others say. Wait and hope . . . fate will come to you.

Everything that was meant to happen, will happen. I believe in destiny, to you, that is "God's will". Sometimes, we just have to let the person come to a conclusion themselves. They will only find the answer within them. No one can help them. You might urge a little, and that is good, but if you push to much, it will backfire. An unhurried mind, is a clear mind.


Your ephiphany will come one day
Just as mine has come for me
Then you'll realize what you nearly threw away . . .
Don't pay the price I did.

If you still want me . . .





friend.

Road run yesterday. I must say I'm real proud of the softball IP. Almost all the guys came in top 15. And Wilbert!!! So cute!!! He came in 4th for IP1. Me and manda could'nt believe our eyes when we saw him running in. I screamed my lungs out for him. Liyan too, she was sick yesterday and she still ran, coming in top 5 I think. Wow, I'm so amazed, considering that we have ZERO PT since the start of this year, they're still so fit!(and yes, Li's 2.4km timing is jaw-dropping, <11.20mins)

Well, as for myself, nobody wanted to run competitively with me. They all wanted to run slowly, and Chris even bought her handphone to do cultural mapping (take photos of houses along the route). Oh well. Anyway, I came in a miserable 37th, compared to 18th last year. There are so many good runners now in J2, as compared to J1. Didn't help that I haven't exactly been doing any cardio lately. Nevermind, at least I lost some weight I hope! And I didn't give up when temptation came, that's most important.

Went back to scgs after that with the PR girls. We met Kai there. Of cos, the main reason for going back is to eat the mee pok and fries. And it was really good, I was moaning while eating the fries (okay, sounds gross, but I've been deprived of this comfort food for so long). I also ate meepok though I wasn't a big fan of it. But I LOOOVVEEE the fries man. NJ people don't know what sort of junk they eat when they buy the western food stall fries. Mel said something quite thoughtful about scgs food. That it had character compared to NJ food. Yeah, I remember, all the kaya and cheese toast, chicken biscuit snacks. The yong tau foo. And of cos, the famous ones meepok, with its 50 year history (yes 50 years, that's how long the uncle has been cooking), and the fries (like pirated VCD, its illegal but loved by all) which are cooked by the bucket. PLus, our delectable ice-cream stall. The pao auntie even remembered me! Sigh . . so much nostalgia and history. We had so much memories of the canteen and how we bonded over food. There were really serious and heated discussions about topics such as religion, politics and others, fueled by packet drinks and fries, to stimulate the intellectual scgs mind. Yes, I always saw sc girls as intellectuals (well that was true as far as my class people were concerned). But it's so sad, you can see the whole landscape changing already. Franc told us that when she was in the toilet cubicle, she overheard girls speaking chinese!!! NOOO! That cannot be! Whatever happened to our anglo-saxon character? Is this really happening? My beloved scgs . . . I hope those were people from the lower-end classes, cos then they might speak chinese there. Yep, scgs hierachy again. Smart and top = english speaking, not-so-smart and at the bottom = chinese speaking.

*****

Been thinking lots lately (as if I haven't been thinking alll the time. . .) about the stuff around me. Then realized that some things are beyond my control. And me, the control freak, would have to accept that. In the meanwhile, I can bide my time, try to get back the mugger elsa of yesterday . . .


Saw this comic on the net, I really like it. I think its beautiful in a simple way.

I can smile . . . to change my mood.

Thursday, January 27, 2005

Sigh, just take away all my sister's pain, make her feel whole again, take it all away.

Please.

All hell broke lose today, I didn't even know it till I came home. It was something that was just waiting to happen. Don't be sad dear sister, you will survive. I cannot even begin to imagine what it must be like, my predicament is nothing compared to yours! There is so much that I should be thankful and grateful for, there are less fortunate others.

Be strong. You will be better, and you have your own faith in god.


****

Tomorrow will be the road run, I hope I'd do well. Since I got 18th position last year, I feel a little pressure.

Then on Saturday, I hope we will be able to accomplish something for the better.

Well, I've tried my best in something. That's all I can say, that's all I can do. When you've tried your best, there's no excuse, you have done your utmost already. The outcome lies in another's hands. Just watch and see.

This whole thing, this whole issue, has exposed alot of facades of people. Our ugly sides . . . for the first time I see mine, I always thought I was a calm-as-steel and strong person. But alot of assumptions about myself have been proven untrue. Hostile circumstances unleash a real demon in you, you can't help but just get swept up in all that mental tsunami. Maybe you've never felt anything like that before or gone through such trials/tribulations in your life. Maybe one day, you'll understand the way I've acted, how I may act now . . . and forgive me for it. I've lost total control, I'm trying to get it back now. A control-freak at its lowest point is when they've lost control of the world around them and worst of all, the aspect that they control the most . . themselves.

I've also seen other sides of my friends. Some good, some bad, some that feels alienating, and some things that regrettably . . . dissapoints. We are not simple friends anymore, our history together is loaded with scandals, fights, screaming (by me =) ), hurt, pain, compromise.

We are not that simple anymore. I guess that would be my most poignant moment in NJ. Not really softball, or the mugging, most definitely not the teachers. But the people there.



To the mastermind, maybe, in a way, you did do the right thing. And for that I thank you, cos I know now what I must do to really find myself. To find the place where I truly belong, and where I, can be me!

Today, was a day of enlightenment for me.

It seemed that after the melt-down of yesterday, all my conflicting emotions had exploded exponentially and then. . . disappeared. Into nothingness. It was as though the hurt had run off its steam. It has been said before anyway, that its human nature that we cannot stay depressed for long. Today, while in tutorials, I couldn't concentrate at all. But this time for different reasons. Maybe it seems that I was stoning, I mean I was, but my brain was running on pure concentration and focus. The pragamatic elsa has resurfaced again. For the first time in a long, long while, I could think clearly on my own, without weak and painful emotions to cloud the analyst's view. It was as though I had become a third party, an observer on the outside, looking at things from all sides, placing myself in others' shoes, and most important, looking for the answers that I seek. For about three tutorials I think, the econs and 2 chem tutorials, I was constanly thinking. Questioning. Seeking. Assessing.

Yesterday, while browsing through the forums at herstory.com (its some local lezy support website). There was this question posted, "What makes you happy?". Looking at the thread, everybody gave run-of-the-mill answers such as to be able to travel with my gf around the world blah blah.

But there was this one girl, who wrote something that was really empowering, and totally applied to me at the moment. She said, "The ability to smile and therefore change my mood . . . makes me happy." Yes. If I could smile, to change my mood, which, these days, swings like a pendulum from anger-hurt-numbness-hurt-anger. There was no reprieve or breathing space, between all those negative emotions.

If I could smile . . to change my mood.

It was not just the literal meaning that got my attention. It was the hidden one as well. That I could do something, to change a seemingly hopeless situation. That I had the power in me to change things, if only I wanted to do it. So I've decided, that since no one can really help me out of my sticky situation, I would have to amend things myself. Repair all that is damaged and neglected. And I'll try slowly, one step at a time. There is a lot of work to do. Before I come home, and meet my real 'family' and circle of companionship, I can repair what's around me. I can do something.

Depression is a quicksand. If you don't pull yourself out of it soon enough, you'll sink further until you finally drown in your own sadness. I have to be a fighter, and a smart and sensible one at that. When life smacks me down, I have to jump right back in its face and show that I can do it! I can be myself again! I will be whole again. If you're easily affected, you become an extremely vulnerable person. I would have to learn how to adapt, to this new and subtly hostile environment. Or change the environment. Either way, I cannot look back anymore. I have to get moving. Once I do the things I need to do, then I'll search, search with conviction. There are people like me out there . . . maybe we are all searching for each other, seeking solidarity in forums and small meetings. But we are there. We are present. And we'll stay in this world for as long as history has been and will continue to survive. Just a little glitch in the design of humanity, we are not perfect, but this glitch will always stay, you can't remove it.

You know, if things don't work out as I intended them too. At least I can say that I tried. That was the whole idea at the start anyway. That was the cause of all this from the start. I tried, and things spiralled downhill like this. But I won't be fazed, cos I'll pick myself up and fight to see another day.

There was a sad little revelation in class today. It produced a morose sort of acceptance in me. Straight people are out of the question. Those who consider themselves straight but want to just "try, try", are only bi-curious and will hurt you in the end, when they finally choose to end it. The only people that I can truly have a relationship with, are the people who are exactly like me. Who are clear in their heads what they want, what their orientation is, and the courage to brave society's "tsk tsk" in order to fight for their right to love whoever they wish. Yeah. And they too, would truly understand me.

Like I said before when I saw this message, " In a friend, you find a second self." That's right, my second selves are all out there, just waiting to be discovered. No matter how hard, how frustrating it may be, I'll have to find my elusive pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.

I have to do it, for my sanity.

I will survive the day!

Wednesday, January 26, 2005

I-ya, I-ya,
I against I,
flesh of my flesh,
and mind of my mind,
two of a kind but one won't survive,

A door step where death never come,
spread across time til my time never done,
and I'm never done,
walk tall, why ever run?
when they move if I ever come?
bad man never fret the war, tell'em come general
we have the stock, the mad fire burn

I-ya,
I against I,
flesh of my flesh,
and mind of my mind,
two of a kind but one won't survive,
my images reflect in the enemies eye,
and his images reflect in mine the same time,

Survive
Survive
Survive
Survive
Survive
Survive
Survive
Survive
Survive
Survive
Survive
Survive
Survive
Survive
Survive
Survive

----excerpt from lyrics of "I against I" by Massive Attack feat. Mos Def

I will survive the day!

School was seriously f*cked up today. My mind was so messed up. I was really struggling inside.

Be strong elsa, be strong.

Many times I had to hold myself back, not let the tears fall, still the urge in me to just explode physically and scream. Everyday, is nothing. . . but a hell-hole. I'd rather stay at home, the last two days had been peaceful to me.

I went to the NJ crest again. Loneliness is a tranquil thing, I think I'm getting used to it. Just sat there, stoning, to get a grip on myself. All around me were scattered furniture. There was just this insane urge to grab one of them chairs and fling the lifeless object over the roof. Just throw it all away, just as I had thrown my bottle through the air before when I felt this way. And I know I'll be able to throw it far. I'm a freaking softballer for chrissake. I know, and could imagine what a release that would give me, watching the chair soar in the sunlight and through the air, free for a beautiful moment. Free. I want that freedom, to just let go totally. Sunlight was crashing upon the concrete all over the area, while I was in the relative comfort of the shade. Around me the sky was blue, bright blinding azure blue. All I could see was building and tree tops, and not a single dreaded human form to distract me. I like it here. In this place, I face nothing but myself. I see and feel only myself, and I learn to come to terms with what I'm feeling at the moment. For a short little while, I have my reprieve. Maybe I should learn to meditate here, whenever I feel like I'm gonna lose it. I'm frequently losing control nowadays, its scary. Had to still the fists many times today. Watched them clench and unclench. I need to throw something. The handphone in my hand is an expensive but vulnerable object, all I can do is squeeze it till the palms hurt.


Be strong elsa, be strong.

Where art thou? The people like me? I need you now. Now. Freedom, give it to me, I don't like this physical and mental prison. Looks like the crest would be my secret and private hangout now. There must be a reason why there are chairs and tables there for my use. But I know throwing stuff around was most definitely gonna attract quite a bit of attention, its not like I can throw quietly. I did do something else though, that put the first genuine smile of the day, on my face, and gave me an immense sense of enpowerment and pride. It was almost as satisfying as throwing a chair. Now I understand how frustrated gay teens like me express their angst and anger through rebellion. Yes, I will rebel. I have the power, to lay my mark on every place I tresspassed, tarnish it with the anthem of the oppressed. I have my voice, I will make myself heard, in my own little ways. My legacy will always remain.

I AM strong!

One day, I will find a way . . .

Rage against conformity. I will NEVER bow down and suppress my true self again! And if you can't deal with it? Well then screw you!

Tuesday, January 25, 2005

Just yesterday, I had an epiphany while in the toilet. You may not know but I like to experiment with recipes, play in the kitchen. Last christmas, I made this roast beef with a 1kg hunk of rib-eye in the ovn. And it was good enough to make me decide not to buy steak when eating out, when I can make my own at home. Yesterday, I had a great idea to improve the recipe. Instead of using the usual types of mustard marinades, which turn charred and black after the meat is cooked and you can barely taste it, I decided I needed something stronger. Something that will tenderise the meat and give it flavour at the same time. Then I got it.

Coke!

Eureka! Its known to be a good tenderiser cos of its acidic properties and since its caramel flavour . . . . it would 'caramelise' the meat. Haha! I think its really gonna work, I'll just add some cinamon powder and herbs together with the coke and marinade the baby in a sealed bag, I'm pretty sure its gonna turn out goood! Damn, can't wait already!



****


Today, I spoke alot to my sister. And her problems are like infinitely worse than mine. If mine was weird enough. Hers is unimaginable. I'm not even gonna talk about it here. Sigh. . .my family is so dysfunctional. Imagine my mother's horror if she were to find out about me. She has enough problems already, I shouldn't burden her with more. And besides, I'm not gonna say anything with my homophobic family! Though my sister suspects (all thanks to a big MSN screw-up that seems straight out of some drama script, cos its so incredulously conincidental), I absolutely refuse to discuss the topic. There's been enough problems becos of it in school already. Don't want to bring all the ugliness to home as well.

Sometimes, she gives me like "duh" advice which are so simple and just staring me in the face, that I always fail to see for myself. Like for example, today I lamented to her that I had a match tomorrow and I haven't had important practice for so long. Then she told me to visualise practice myself since I can't do it physically. And it was like "duh!". Man, why didn't I ever think of that? All I do is sit on my ass and moan. At first I thought swinging with empty hands in front of the mirror was silly, but I did that during SRC and it worked! Besides, its better than nothing. That's what the band people do when they don't have their instruments with them. Visualize the notes. Sometimes, it just takes a different, objective person to help you see the light.

Have you ever walk through the streets of a foreign country? Seeing yourself surrounded by white people, feeling so different and out-of-place? Well, that's what I feel like everyday.



Welcome to my world!


Sigh. . . I wish I could find the answers to all my questions.

I just wanna be me.

Decided to stay home today. Don't want to go back to that hell-hole called school.

Its an evil place. Where I cannot be me.

I'm not really sick, though I still have some of that stomache ache in me. And god forbid I have to do the nasty in school! I'd rather stay home for it, no matter how little it is. I just want to be at home. Its safe here. Still and quiet, only me and the maid. We call her D12, that's our Eminem code-name for her. At home, at least I can be alone. Sometimes it can get quite stressful when you are surrounded by people when you aren't exactly feeling well, like in PE yesterday.

Life slows to a crawl, there's no hustle and bustle and madness of school. The atmosphere is still with inactivity. Small things become big. Small noises. The black bird makes a racket as it flies off the trash basket. D12 peeling vegie stalks can be heard across the hallway. Me? I surround myself with the comp music. Wrapped in the comfy hotel robes, I just sit and stare and ponder. I have loads of "me-time" now, that's what me and Keefe call quality time with yourself. Me-time. When you get to really do nothing but think and reflect.

I like this peace. Only half the day is gone and I have yet to complete a single piece of work since Sunday.

Somehow, I don't really care. It dosen't matter that much. When you have the whole day to yourself, you think you have forever to do the things you want. Not true as I've discovered before, but I choose to deceive myself once more. Its interesting to see how we humans repeat the familiar patterns of wrong mistakes. Procrastination. Everybody else is sprinting in the rat-race at school, slogging tutorial after tutorial, rushing for recess, rushing for lessons, for ccas, to get home. I'm sick of all the rush. You never stop to take a breather and assess what's really going on around you. Everything moves so fast. In a blink of an eye, the day is gone and you come home to prepare/recharge yourself for another meaningless day of constant activity.

I hate school.

I used to like school, you know. For the solidarity and fun you shared with your friends. For those moments of pure joy and laughter with them, at small instances and jokes. At corridors, toilets, lecture halls, classrooms. These small snippets of interaction somehow made the slogging in school worthwhile. Not anymore. I don't like school anymore. Class, to me, is a sad state of affairs. Sometimes I just detest being where I am. Can't breathe in this place. Cannot be myself. I used to feel part of the crowd, where I can blend in safely, no one would notice. Follow them everywhere, do everything together. These days, I sometimes walk alone. I hate not being able to act natural, having to pretend everything is all right when its not. Some days, I feel like just grabbing someone else by the shoulders and shake them, hoping to make them wake up. WHY? Why do you have to be this way? Why do you have to act this way, when I'm as natural as can be to you already? Don't you know it hurts so bad? To be treated this way?

I am nothing but a sick, perverted, repulsive . . . thing to you. Worse than pond scum. Or amoebas.

That's why I choose to stay home, so I don't have to face the crap in school. So that some people can be their natural selves and I too, at home, can be my natural self, girl-loving and all. I am so not looking forward to school on Wednesday. I hate this charade. But my mask and my costume are always ready to go when I leave for school, the theatre, tomorrow.

Run away, let me run away, from this tragic comedy forever and ever. There is only one person in class I am willing to talk to now, whom I think can talk to me rationally, and reason with me. Holy rhetoric is not going to move me. Therefore, to the mastermind and Brutus, stay far away from my thoughts. By the way you brute, all your gay friends will dessert you, if you continue to treat them this way. Once bitten, you should be twice shy. I am not surprised by your friend's reaction at all. What I'm surprised is that you continue to do the last thing that you should do.




This is the start of the third week. And until now I'm still paying the price of being me. How long is my "holy" jail sentence bestowed upon me going to last?

Monday, January 24, 2005

Everyday, I feel like some leprosy/plague victim.

Maybe its better that I didn't stay in school today. Maybe you'll feel easier.

Tomorrow, would be Tuesday, that would mark the start of the third week. Would this drag till a month? I don't know. Everyday, is as bleak as the first.

I hate it when I lose control, of my life and the things around me. I really hate it, when I'm left helpless. I'm a self-confessed control freak. Heheh, no surprise, I'm a Leo. Its all in the stars. Is there nothing I can do to make things better? I don't know, I really don't know.

I don't know. My life is so filled with questions unanswered right now. Sigh. . . sometimes I feel so frustrated I don't know whether to just stone, cry or hit something. Is these all?!? Why? Why can't I do anything? I just beg of you, oh god, I really beg of you. All I want is something, all I ask is for something. Only one thing.

Please.

Give me back the past.

Please.



*****

Stupid stomache. Of all times it had to screw up on me. PE today was sheer pain. There was Tong addressing everybody, and I was just cowering in the corner feeling my stomache twisted and knotted. I haven't felt such painful stomache aches in a long while. It was better when people left. At least I rested and could sleep some. Went home soon after that.

Of all times, it had to be today, when its so near the match. I'll be missing precious training. The last one before Wednesday. This really sucks, I want to practice my batting. Forget it, no point lamenting, I'll just throw up my arms in despair. I'll have to make do, without the pitch-bat practice. I wonder how softball runs without me? Who does the nagging? Or maybe not at all.

This is so weird, I don't remember eating anything particularly damaging. Maybe this is like the time last year, that horrid time when I had this like 3-4 times in a single month, and spoilt food wasn't exactly the reason. But then again, I don't remember feeling stressed out on the weekend. Maybe its a built-up of stress. My body rebelling against me. All the signs are there. EXACTLY the symptoms of last year. I have to take better care of myself. Concentrate, concentrate, oh but its soo hard to concentrate!

Just bring me back to the start. Please.

If I could start again,
A million miles away
I would keep myself
I would find a way.

---song from the comp now, "Paradigm" by Ani Difranco (by the way, she's gay. And if you can't stomache that fact, well then SCREW YOU!)

Sunday, January 23, 2005

Most of the time, I'm a real slob. I do things for the sake of completing it. Just hurry, do the bare minimum. Finished? Chuck aside and forget it. There's no pride in the work I do, usually school work. But certain things are different. When it comes to language, be it lit, english or GP, these things I really put my effort and thoughts into it. There is something else too.

You know, I've always toyed with the idea of collecting saga seeds. I know, quite cliched and overdone. Its so old school romance that people only remember it clearly when they are younger. Have you heard of lovers giving each other saga seeds these days? Not anymore. Its become all the material things that people can buy. Necklaces, earrings,bracelets, ipods. For the girls, it'll be cookies, cakes, brownies, some homely and house-wifey food items. Sure, all these presents take effort. Money to save up for the expensive gifts, hours in the kitchen for the comfort food. But there's something child-like and innocent about collecting saga seeds that appeal to me. A gesture of love from a forgotten era. I bet you could buy decorated bottles of saga seeds out there, but that to me is just so emotionally cheap-skate. There's no real effort in it. All you need is moolah, which ultimately comes from your parents. There's no . . . real ownership to the gift in question. Plus its so much more sincere to give something that you physically spend time over, instead of just using money. And I'm quite tired of food gifts already. They only last a few days then its gone.


I've tried collecting before. But its very difficult, mostly becos, there were very few dropped pods of saga seeds that I found. Even sadder, each pod had many hollow spaces for the seeds but most were empty. And there were few trees around. I only found a few, others were tarnished with dirt that did not seem to come off if you wiped it. So I went home and placed the most perfect, fire-red seed in a minature flower basket.

That was a long time ago, I wonder if its still there.

I also wonder, where I could find a place where there were many, many saga trees all in a row, like arranged in a boulevard. And all around the pavement were fallen leaves and saga pods. Lying on the ground, stirred by a light breeze, all bursting with small, perfectly shaped and hued saga seeds. I would scamper about, like a harvester, with a bag in my hands, ready to empty all those pods with their little treasures. It would take time, yes it would. Its not easy to be able to fill a bottle with those microscopic rubies. You'll need many of them. But I have the patience, cos I know it would make a sweet little gift. Then I'll go home, with my precious loot. Wash them individually, remove the dirt, and dry them out in the sun. I'll carefully select a nice minature glass bottle, which I would fill to the brim with seeds. Then I would decorate it, with laces, ribbons, and then stopper it with a wine cork. Lastly, I would write a poem to go with it.

Yeah, that's what I'll do. I think its a sweet thing to do for someone.

But I wonder, if anybody would actually appreciate such a gift from me, instead of throwing it in my face in disgust. Yeah, I can only imagine myself giving this to a girl. A guy probably knows how to appreciate these things even less. Or not at all. Heheh, seriously, can you imagine giving this to a guy?

Poems and saga seeds.

But there's this dream present which I know I don't have the skills to create. You take a block of wood, and if you have the know-how, you carve it into a cute animal or something other with sentimental value. Then you'll varnish it and apply some paint for the eyes. Or not at all, cos paint can fade or you'd may want to preserve the sanctity of the wood. This makes me somehow wish that I was an Art student. That way, you'll always have creative ideas and skills for gifts. But this also means that ordinary gifts can't satisfy the artist in you=)

I'll need to ask Charmaine where I can find all the cool and quirky art and craft stuff. The vintage trinkets which have old world charm. The decorations which are not only cheap but uniquely different. Not just something bought out of a mainstream art store. I'll trawl the shophouses and out-of-the-way places for these hidden gems. With them, I'll decorate my gifts.

All these I'll do for the person I love. But I wonder when I'll be given that chance though. . .

The evil of Murphy's Law . . . .

I've misplaced a library book for 2+ months already and the fine was up to $7.20. The family had given up trying to search for it and yesterday, we decided to settle the matter once and for all, paying a flat fee of $23. All for a book which was thin as a pamphlet, and which looked so boring I had not even read it. I don't know what possessed me to even borrow it. Even my mum said a second-hand bookstore would not buy it from us if we found it in the end.

Today, my father, who was previously not involved in this matter, found the book exactly where it was last seen. Less than 24 hours after we've paid the massive fine. There was no refund, the clerk had stated clearly.

Haha, you should've seen my mum's reaction, as she tried to whack me repeatedly with the book, and scolded me for obeying her wishes to pay the fine yesterday. "Of all times, you choose to listen to me this time and do what I ask you to do!" Then she started whacking her ownself.

I couldn't stop laughing.
.....

Saturday, January 22, 2005

"1979"

Shakedown 1979, cool kids never have the time
On a live wire right up off the street
You and I should meet
Junebug skipping like a stone
With the headlights pointed at the dawn
We were sure we'd never see an end to it all
And I don't even care to shake these zipper blues
And we don't knowJust where our bones will rest
To dust I guess

Forgotten and absorbed into the earth below
Double cross the vacant and the bored
They're not sure just what we have in store
Morphine city slippin dues down to see
That we don't even care as restless as we are
We feel the pull in the land of a thousand guilts
And poured cement, lamented and assured
To the lights and towns below
Faster than the speed of sound
Faster than we thought we'd go, beneath the sound of hope

Justine never knew the rules,
Hung down with the freaks and the ghouls
No apologies ever need be made, I know you better than you fake it
To see that we don't even care to shake these zipper blues
And we don't know just where our bones will rest
To dust I guess
Forgotten and absorbed into the earth below

The street heats the urgency of sound
As you can see there's no one around

---by the Smashing Pumpkins

Some song lyrics can be really beautiful poems. I like this one, it reminds me of teenage jadedness and delinquency. Of highways, and dusty cars in America. Of teens on a road trip, stopping in the wee hours of the morning at petrol stations, hanging at motels, hitch-hiking. I like this free spirit.

The wind in my hair . . . without a care for this world.

Something To Remember

Seems I've played the game for much too long
I let people buy my love and I
Never got to sing my songs for you.

I had all my bets laid all on you
Set your stakes too high, you're bound to lose.
In the game of love I've paid my dues.

Say that happiness cannot be measured,
And a little pain can bring you all life's little pleasures.
What a joke.

I was not your woman, I was not your friend,
But you gave me something to remember
Guess I'm waiting for my place in your sun. . .

----excerpt from "Something to Remember" by Madonna

You know how typical love can sometimes be right? First comes the physical attraction, then emotional attachment will follow.



What happens when it becomes the other way around?


Sigh . . . in the end, it basically just sucks lah. I am so not looking forward to the next one. Won't you rather be a kid whereby everything was black and white? Plain and simple? No wonder Peter Pan chose to stay a kid forever. Life can be more charming that way . . . cos its the time when we are all sweet and innocent, and not yet the cynical, apathetic and jaded adults that we become.



I don't like this monster I've become.


Yesterday, I watched Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, finally (!), and it was a really beautiful show. It made me realize how important my memories were, especially the happy ones. Jim Carrey had lost someone that he loved and it ended bitterly, then he wanted to erase all his memories of her to block out the pain. But then he runs through all the beautiful moments that made him fall in love with her, and he realizes, that he does not ever want to erase that truly happy period of his life. Even if it is nothing but memories now.

Memories. I'll never want to erase them cos it keeps me happy, in a sort of way, whenever I think back of the past and how blissful and sun-shiney it was. You don't know what you've lost till you lose it for real. Then you'll really appreciate those fleeting moments in the past. There was this scene in the show, that really echoed this thought in my head that I had many times. Now and years ago. He was going through one of his memories again. This time, he and Clementine broke into the beach house at night. Near the end of the memory, he was supposed to have left Clementine on her own and gone away. As he lives through that memory, he remarked regretably to himself that he wished that he had stayed the night. Cos then he didn't know what he was giving up by not being with her, he did not know how much she would mean to him in the future. Those who watched the show, you might remember this scene. It is something that speaks right to me.
Memories. Richard's blog title most aptly puts it and I love the meaning in it (I wonder if he does though)


Nothing remains except memories. When it seems like all is lost, I go back to my memories . . . and bask in its beauty.

I love happy memories. I hope I never forget.

Friday, January 21, 2005

Muahahaha! Today, I axed the irritant from the team forever. She will tick me off no more! Yesterday, she even had the nerve to ask me to get her glove down from atop the cupboard. Who do you think I am? Your slave? I order you to do things. Not the other way round. And when I said no, she said she couldn't get it cos she was shorter than me, then she asked what was my height. Now, now. My height is a preeetty sensitive topic and I wouldn't reveal it. Then she smirked and said, you won't tell me your height ah?

Man, I could punch the bitch.

When sending the "you got in" or "you didn't get in" message. I almost wanted to decorate my "you didn't get in" sms to her by starting off,

" It gives me great pleasure to inform you. . . ."

Haha, you get my point.

Sadly though, there were a few people that were really painful to cut from the team. Like the CHIJ tall girl who got hit in the face and yet still wants to continue with softball. I feel like I owe her an apology for having to cut her despite the obvious enthusiasum shown. I'm currently begging coach to give her another chance. Cos for sure some people will quit along the way on their own accord and I need to ensure next year's team got enough numbers.

Well, I feel really hopeful for this year. What's more with the 4 cresc softballers. We got to do it man. We owe it to ourselves. We must push hard this time around.

Do you know why I'm so mad? So angry? Its becos I get the sense that all this has been for nothing.

How would you feel? If one of your bestest friendships was like effectively killed overnight? Heck, it was the bestest friendship. Nothing but a distant memory right now. Yeah, you may say that these things takes time. But how would you feel if you had been ignored for over a week, and not a single friendly word has been exchanged face-to-face? How would you feel if your bestest friend did that to you? You would feel hurt isn't it? Its all natural to feel that way. And the silliest thing is that she herself can't help acting like that. Its not her fault. She too was an innocent party in this whole matter. Even if things got back to normal, would it truly be normal again? I've killed a friendship becos of my own doing before, and the pain from that was excruciating enough already. The regret immense. And now, someone else is doing it for me. I never wanted for things to turn out this way.

Don't make assumptions of me just becos you read this blog! Cos all I wanted was friendship in the end! I wasn't even going to make any move or anything, I was going to stay being pals! Yes, I may write my true feelings here. But its impossible for me to capture all my thoughts, all my emotions, cos it takes too much time and sometimes I just forget to put down certain things when I get carried away typing. So don't ever think for one moment that you can assess my true psyche just by reading this. Everything is not as it seems. I am more than the things said here. I just left out a crucial point and everything has to cave in. And the stupidest, stupidest thing is that I've been in such a situation before. And I handled things differently. I have loved others close to me without their knowing. And becos they didn't know, I could bide my time and slowly get over them, without ever tainting our friendship. Until now, even when I've completely gotten over, our friendship still remains pure and untainted. As though nothing ever happened. And I'm real glad I kept things this way. Friends at the start, and friends we will still be in the end. Cut out my hidden feelings in the middle, all that is past. I've done it before and I was going to do it again. I know I could, I'm an expert at hiding already. Why did you have to force things when I've my own ways of doing?

At least you told the truth. You said you were afraid that I would hit you. You have good reason to fear so. Becos I know that all this could've been avoided. If you just came to me first. How would you feel if I wrecked your friendship?

And please, I know what's done is done. No point lamenting the past and what ifs. Just stop bothering me about this matter (yeah Ian, you heard me). Stop hounding me. Just forget it k? Let me pick up the pieces, don't remind me of it cos I need closure on this matter. Just see my smile in school and believe it. I don't want to talk about this no more in school. No. I don't want to discuss my sexuality or that matter again. No.

Just see my smile in school and believe it. I can act very normal if I had to. I will. I promise. Just don't stir up a hornet's nest and you will have a happy-looking elsa.

As for the friendship problem now? I'll just have to suck it up and wait for the storm to pass.

Just let me be. Don't bother me no more. Let me be. .

. .who I want to be.

Thursday, January 20, 2005

Arrgh softball! Sometimes I get so frustrated with myself, with my skills. One thing improves, the other lags behind or I lose touch. Its just a constant see-saw of proficiency and lousiness. Today, couldn't bat the pitched ball for nuts. Every other type of ball I can hit, except for competition ball. Grrr, so infuriating! Sigh. . . I know, hard to understand the frustration of a sportman. Especially when it comes to softball, a sport that is so demanding on delicate, nimble, split-second skill, more than on your overall fitness. You never reach that peak of perfection cos there is always something holding you back. Some minor flaw in your throw, swing, or fielding style, that will blow up in your face when the mistake is made. Every movement, every turn is so precious. Lose your focus and you're gone. Get nervous and you'd have failed already. Everything is so psychological here, the score decided in a fleeting moment, the perfect play only possible when you're "in the zone" and instinct takes over you. As though you move not of your own free will but by an invisible force. And when it happens, you are shocked, for it ever happened. You couldn't believe it. Was it taiko? Maybe, maybe not. But it happened and that's all that matters. That was how I got the MLB nick in SRC. I hope I can achieve something as perfect as that again. All I need is to believe.

I can field anything you hit to me. I can do it. I know I can. See the ball. Hit the ball. Think positive elsa! Think win. I wonder if my team-mates have this desire to improve like I do. I hope they have, but it dosen't really show. If they don't, I gotta do something soon. Team talk on first day of school was apparently not enough to shake them out of their stupor.

If you were me, if you went through life as me. A crooked alien in a straight world. The oppresion is unbelieveable. You can't see it, but only I can feel it. And it suffocates you every second you are reminded of teenage dating and romance. Eating at you. Everyone is happy with their partner of the opposite sex. But you know you won't be satisfied if you had the same. There would be something missing. You can't exactly put it in words cos its so intangible. And yet you know deep down that the love of the other kind would make you feel whole, that it would put you at ease and peace. But no one else sees things that way. So you keep your thoughts to yourself.

I am as frank as I am. . .

. . . in this place. Cos its the only way I can express myself, the only way I can shout to the world the anger that people like me feel. Yes, when you've been driven into a corner, by all sides and there is no one there to say, "Don't worry, I can understand." How do you respond? No one can understand what I'm going through. If they say they do, they are either gay or they are lying. Are there gay people in this place? I don't think so.

All I've shown here, is the raw anger of a person. The kind which people tend not to show, or show only to their closest friends and secret diaries. If you don't like it. Don't read it. No one is forcing you to. And like I said before, I've stopped caring a long time ago what people thinks or expects of me. LESBIAN? Yeah! I am a sick, perverted, out-to-be-damned L E S B I A N. So there! I put a nice smile and a friendly facade in public, I act all normal and happy. The emotional turmoil is all inside, in this place. Only those who reads it, knows it. (and I don't give out my address) The rest of the world is blissfully ignorant. You too can choose to be blissfully ignorant. Just don't come to this place anymore. Then you see my smiles and laughter in school.

And you'll really believe it.

Your choice. I don't really care. I'm too tired to bother. And remember, it wasn't my choice ever to have the confrontation. There are ways to resolve the problem in a less damaging manner.

I'm very tired. I just want to lie down, and sleep. Forget about the worries of the world.

Heheh, you know something. All 10 years in SCGS I've never ever cried before. And now, in NJ, I've cried publicely and so deeply. Many times. Sometimes in front of others, sometimes alone. But I've also realized something. Its a good release, just as blogging here is to me. This is how I cry.

Hmmm school.

Same old, same old. Come to school, mug, sleep, stone, eat, worry. All the things I do in 24 hours. After school, went to library to mug. Did chem, econs, maths, but after I while I got really sick of doing work. Its as though the personal resolve to work hard has sort of lost its steam after trying to sustain it for a few days. That's right, I have way too short an attention span. Tried to concentrate in back-to-back lessons today and failed miserably. After first tutorial, I literally zoned out for the rest. At least others were zoning with me, but of cos that's a minority =)

At library, did my work, wrote a letter. After a while I seriously couldn't concentrate anymore, and I needed some time to ponder. So I left the place and decided to go to my little hide-out at the NJ crest to think. But first, I had to get myself some snacks. At the canteen, I went to the snack store. Saw classmates, SJ and some others. And gosh man! Everybody was just mugging away like zombies or something! All the places I've passed by so far, library, library outside, stone benches, canteen, all filled knee-deep with muggers. And its not just j2s, j1s also! I can sort of understand now when the ac seniors last year complained that this years' (our year) batch of j1s were a bunch of muggers. I bought Mo Fa Ko, my usual treat, introduced first by Mindy in GP class, and I was addicted to it last year. Dunking it with green tea. But the bottle of treats I bought tasted sour, like somewhat spoiled. Sort of an apt metaphor for my mental state right now. At the crest, it was damnably hot! The heat was just radiating from the concrete. I found a copy of the local Seventeen on the floor, carelessly discarded. Either the owner is very rich, or the magazine really sucked. I guess it was the latter cos as I flipped through it, it was downright boring. Didn't help that the whole mag was filled with articles about straight love, BGR shit, "signs he'll make a good boyfriend", advice on how to decipher the male pysche blah blah. . . So boring, so does not apply to me. I flipped through it all in disgust. I wished for once I could read something that I can identify with, something that was close to my heart. Too bad they had no comtroversial topics on sexuality. I would have read it from title to full-stop.


I have read only one lesbian book so far. And I treasured it as though it was the thing that kept me surviving. For once everything that the protaganist felt, I could feel too. I was the character in the book. I was the one who was afraid, euphoric, secretly happy, worried, anxious, angry, hating and dreaming. I finally had someone who was like me. All the sappy love books I've read so far, it just seems like entertainment and usual, stereotypical media portrayal of love. I couldn't take it seriously, much less identify with it. The book was Fingersmith by Sarah Waters. It gave me the courage to face up to who I was, it made me realize that there were people who felt like me too, and that I wasn't alone in all this. That I need not be afraid.

To fight for my right to love whoever I want. Straight or crooked love. In the end, its still love all the same. Nothing changes, only the characters.

This book was one of the major events leading to the turning point in my life. My catalyst to seek acceptance. To love myself as I was.

Wednesday, January 19, 2005

I wish I looked like Gia Carangi.

With her looks, she got almost every girl that she wanted. . .

And you know what's the coolest thing? She was a supermodel.

Break down your stereotypes people! I'm an example of stereotypes broken. Long hair girls can be gay too.

Am real glad that Miss Irritating didn't come to sour softball training today. And at least I got to interact with the J1s a little more today (at the expense of my own training). Realised that many of them are so anxious and worried about being cut from the team. But most of them will be accepted anyway. But I understand their worries, cos all this is totally new to them.


I'll have to go to school early tomorrow for lone mugging session at Oasis, can't do any work at home.



I've also decided already. It is now or never.

Once my new computer is repaired and brought back to tech health, I'll start searching online for local GLBT support groups. Cos if this carries on, I don't know what's gonna happen. I'm slipping away from sanity already. Though I may look all fine and dandy, happy and normal on the outside, I'm just losing it within. School is just one big hell-hole of painful memories (and still on going experiences) for me. Am real glad there is no school on friday. Don't want to go back there no more. Can't take it anymore! All this emotional baggage is too much for me to carry. Reading melancholic poems online isn't a long-term solution. I have to talk to someone soon. Someone who would emphatise with me.

I've gotta do it.

Just wished so much that you came to talk to me first, before deciding that your drastic course of action was the only way to resolve it. . .

Tuesday, January 18, 2005

People talk to their friends.

I talk to my blog.

Hi blog! Great time with you today! Sleepy now, I'll talk more to you tomorrow!

Can't wait!

Muax! X)





And I use to wonder why my parents were so cynical. . . "You are your own best friend", they used to say. . .

Yeah man yeah! I did it! (Well, most of what I intended to do) I have officially completed the whole of Integration tutorial! Even the super-duper tough Qn 10) was no match for my prowess! Sure it was hard, proving of trigo and everything but I survived. Imagine, if I had done the assignment as well, it would mean that for the first time in NJC, I actually had NO maths homework left for me to complete! (excluding maths 's' of cos). Didn't do econs and physics though, after the satisfaction from maths, decided to give myself a break. Gosh, I can really mug if I choose to. Tomorrow, if I have time, I'll do econs. Chem and physics will have to wait for the weekend. Heheh, mensa member should be so proud of me. Oh, and I thoroughly enjoyed i.e laughed like mad, GP class today. Its confirmed, Rattna is Nair no.2

Yep. And mugging achieved its goal of distracting me once more.

Phrase to describe me now. . . "calm as a bomb"

Everyday seems the same. To the world it is, but to me it is not. These days, I feel frightfully alone. That's not to say that my friends suck. They rock, I mean, they really do! But the one that rocks the most I have friendship problems with right now. Sigh . . . its so easy for me to be normal to you online, but when I see you face-to-face . . . I become tongue-tied. Its as though we can only function normally when far away physically. That's quite sad. In school, I get so troubled. Cos I don't know what to do to make things better, fearing it might get worse. Should I take the initiative and talk first? But I don't know what to say! Plus I fear your response, it'll probably be discomfiture. What if it alarms you? (I think it does, cos I've tried subtly) Would I be taking things too fast? Then again, am I being slow already and should go one step further? Should I sit next to you so that maybe we'll get to talking normally? (No, no, out of the question. Too risky. That will set off alarm bells in her head. But I don't mean any harm! I'm so small and harmless already, you could decapitate me if you wanted!) Sigh . . . so many questions, so many cautions and warnings to heed. And I still don't know what to do . . . If only there was a manual or FAQ on dealing with these type of situations. Or even better, cheat codes. But life's not a computer game. Its meant to be experienced. And it has a steep learning curve. We have to win it the hard way, no short cuts here (and definitely no saved games). I theeenk this is going to take some time to figure out. But the process just s u c k s man. . .

And to increase difficulty rating of this situation further . . . I've effectively and officially got zero people to talk to. Yes, there is truly no one if I look at things pramagtically and truthfully. Becos, trust, once broken, is hard to gain back. Not to say that the confrontation was a necessarily bad thing, it woke me up to alot of things. Things that I choose to be blind and deluded to in the past. You know, I thought for once I could really be honest to people about my feelings. Say the bitter and sincere truth. Pour out the emotional baggage. Share with others. Get comfort and solidarity. Doesen't matter that I talk about girls and you talk about guys, its still love all the same and we can help evaluate each other's targets. Not anymore.

Someone whom I really was honest with. . . I don't see how I could speak to you as honestly as I did before. I thought you could understand. . . But you're just like the rest. All pestering for change (and I spit out this word bitterly). Neither would I get the assurance I usually feel when I talk to others about my, ahem, "alternative lifestyle" problems, cos I know there will be judgement from them, and that itching do-gooder desire and hope for me to change. Its like I can't ever talk to anyone anymore about what's important to me, my love life and my sexuality. Heheh, there is something that happened in the toilet that day that just makes me want to laugh out loud at the audacity of you people.

You.

Wish for me to confide in you about the people that I like, but also expect me to be satisfied with "no comment" remarks? Or be faced by stony, uncomfortable silence or people nervously trying to change the subject? Just imagine with me here okay? Lets just say that . . . you like a guy. And you think he is the greatest, most handsomest and coolest man to walk this earth. You just adore him so very, very much. And you are just dying to share your joy and discovery with your friends. Hoping that they too would feel happy for you as you want them to. So you talk excitedly and dreamily to them. Then you ask, smiling so naively, "What do you think of him, mmm?"

*silence*

"Er. . . no comment?"

See my point? You expect me to be honest with you and confide like all good friends do, when you have outrightly rejected giving me any emotional comfort that I seek.

How hypocritical.

I don't know what you hope to achieve by telling me this is the way I'll be treated. I think you expect too much from me. I can't do that. I can't tell people my deepest, hidden desires only to have them brushed off carelessly away. I can't do that. I'm only human. But you may complain so that . . . oh, elsa! I can't possibly identify with the feelings that you have? Heheh, well, whenever a friend tells me about some guy she likes. I don't go all "I'm sorry! I can't understand you, so too bad I won't say a thing" mode, even though they know already that I'm not straight. I'll still evaluate the guy, give my two-cents worth on whether he's a good catch or not, if he is indeed cute as they say it. Even though I may not understand how in the world she can like such an abomination, I still play the role of the good, supportive girlfriend that I am. (In fact, if I, a crooked girl, actually thinks that a certain guy can make it. Then you'll be pretty sure he will be good!) I've been doing this for years. . . and I never once complain that just becos I don't feel the same, I won't try to feel my friends' euphoria. Oh, how you people might find this so hard to do! To try to understand me. . . Hah! You have it so easy! I can do it! I've been doing it a long time already, trying to understand everyone around me! Don't ever make your current situation sound difficult when it can't even begin to compare with mine. . .


I have everything to lose. You have none.

Well, sigh. . . at least everything is out in the open now. You don't have to pretend that you can emphatise with me. There's no need for me to tell you who I like. Even after I've gotten over someone and found someone new to think of. What's the point. I'll hit a brick wall anyway (And I'll learn from you. I'll say, "No comment!", if you ask about the curent state of affairs of my heart). There's no one else I could tell. Ying, maybe, at least she knows what it feels like. And she'd be spared the trouble of pretending.

This is what you want in the end isn't it?!? Well, this is what you'll get. Pretending to care but not showing anything of it to me. And the cherry to top it off, wanting for me to tell you my heart when you so obviously disapprove of it. So sorry, elsa dear, you're back to square one again. Deja vu! Its like in sec school again, where you're friends with everyone but does not really have any to truly call friends. You'd have to hide again. Bottle up the emotions! And only let it out here. There is no one to talk to. They would feel uncomfortable. You can just see it in their eyes.

Like I said before, I don't give a bullshit who reads this blog. Amanda, Ian, ros, mel, even elane. All but names on a tag-board to me. That's why I speak my mind in this place. That's why I can't be bothered to remove the link to class blog, too troublesome. That's why the chosen template features the sexiest pic alive, in my opinion ;) . After keeping silent for so long, I ain't going to be silent anymore. A dam once broken, can't be stoppered. Neither does it want to. The river of emotions just want to flow free, having had a taste of what freedom can be. You know what? In a way, homosexuality has made me stronger. I am more self-assured than before. If I had been straight, I would just be some wimpy, average, comformist teenager, who has never had a true taste of life's trials. I would've been afraid to show my emotions, in case people's perception of me as the "goody-two-shoes" kid be ruined. People who just talk about the mundane things in life to their friends, never anything that really matters, hiding themselves, bottling up emotions (or maybe they do not have emotions to bottle up cos their life so far has been one dry, bland affair). Are they even comfortable with themselves? I know they're not, cos they're afraid to be vulnerable and let their emotions run its course. Well, you want to know what's true comfort? Its the ability to accept yourself as you were made. Flaws and all. Accept them. Don't deny its existence. You're just prolonging the process of finally letting go.

I've discovered a new form of therapy. Some people shop or binge on food when they have problems. I don't have the money to shop, and I don't want to risk gaining weight. So instead I do the thing that Kai did when she had friendship problems in sec school. I bury myself in work. Today, I shall try to finish Integration tutorial (there's not much left), read and do econs, and read physics. Elsa has a new mathematical formula, it goes M=kP.

The more I mug, the more pain I hide.

Monday, January 17, 2005

Friends

I will be your friend
Take my hand
I will sooth your hair from compassion
Hold you in my arms in warmth
The lines are drawn
My mind will not cross it
This is my harbor
For we all set sail at some time
The waves of the heart ripple
No sense staying home
And this is my deck
To let your feet dangle from
I will join you
In sound or silence
I will be here for you
I am not afraid of motion
The lines are drawn
And I will not cross it
Come as you are
Stay as long as you like
I am learning
However slowly
One never reaches the horizon
But what a gift to behold it
Together in our journeys
I only ask your patience
For when I stumble. . .
Take my hand
I will be your friend~

---excerpt from a lesbian poetry website


I like this poem. Alot.