Totally blue night
I am suddenly assailed with a feeling of intense loneliness… nothing compares to this. The thought of having to live my life with no companionship, no love, no warmth, terrifies me. Just the cold dark empty nights, sitting alone by myself. No one to shar the days trials and madness. No one to unburden unfounded fears to. No one to cuddle to on a rainy chilly night.
Suddenly I have a crazy thought of how nice if I had a companion who can translate Mandarin to English better than I do. Certainly would ease my mind a whole lot easier now.
But how selfish…
No, I want a companion for me. Even if the fellow were an Indian or foreign, I would like to have someone to touch now and feel complete and unalone.
I realise this morning how cold and unfeeling I’ve become. I used to ignore the handicapped and beggars at the SS2 market. I saw one again this morning as I’d dropped by to buy fruits. I ignored him on the way in. But as I came back out, he was still ther and two aunties were giving him some money.
I don’t know what made me relent and bend to give him a dollar. I used to think that I can’t help them. There were too many. I also needed charity. But at that split moment, I decided to open my purse and give him some money.
I don’t want to think that it’s because some aunties were more charitable than me. I don’t want to think that I was a cruel cold hearted bitch who should be charitable. I don’t want to think that I realised I was selfish for so long. I don’t want to analyse too deeply.
I’m afraid to discover the real me – ugly, cold, and selfish.
Perhaps it’s the rainy season making me blue.
I am a pathetic being who pretends to be content with what I have. I wear a fake smile and all think that I am a sun-born child when I am not. I talk about my obligations to my family in self-deprecating terms and everyone thinks I am so dedicated to family. But I am not really. I am fake. Yet I cannot shake off this unconscious façade because otherwise all others would see is an indifferent persona who merely sees her family as a thing to bear with. Like having the sun to warm but there are alternatives such as an electrical heater or woollen garments. It is simply a thing to live with yet possible to live without.
And I’m terrified of this feeling because it is the precise same kind of feelings, or lack of , that I had experienced when my father had the operation.
I don’t think anyone will understand it. I don’t myself. And I don’t thin I can ever share this feeling, for fear of being rejected by those I love. It is something I have to figure out on my own. Or see a psychiatrist. Perhaps he or she will have an excellent explanation for why I felt this way.
I imagine it would take me a week to relate the events that precipitated to this end product of my emotions towards my family.
But I know the problem I’m having tonight is because I’m lonely… terribly lonely.
First and last time ever
This is the FIRST and LAST TIME I’m going to a Cleo party bash EVER!!!
Someone please clog me on the head if I even think of going for another one of these things!
Actually it wasn’t so bad. Just that there were lots of giddygoat girls and elbowing by some auntie who went! But you know lah, teens, the kind of things they talk at their age. Sigh…
And the goodie bag wasn’t that fantastic. Deodorant, shower gel, sample face mask, sample shampoo, a cheap string necklace from Perlini’s Silver, samples from Beaute de Kose, a RM50 voucher for Sisley’s (but only valid if you purchase above RM300 worth of clothes, sample Emporio Armani White for men, and pink slippers with CLEO stamped on it. All in all, I doubt they all cost more than RM120. Pathetic. Oh, and the ticket also includes either a soft drink or an alcoholic drink. Big deal.
The show was ok lah. Befitting teenagers. Silly questions and answers throughout. Reshmonu performed. That I felt was good. Then a fashion show with Sisley’s clothes and Perlini’s Silver jewellery, with Andrew’s Models. I liked the fashion show. The clothes were quite nice, as well as, the jewellery. But, man, were those models pencil thin! Jealous…
Didn’t stay too long, cos I was getting tired and needed to work the next day too. So me and Elaine left.
Ok lah… an experience…
Critics and writers
It’s hard getting comments on your writing. I never really appreciated the meaning of critique before. I mean, I use to think that it was no big deal, that I could take it. But I still get that twinge of dislike to have someone comment on my writing, even if it were a simple paragraph for an advertorial. I still cringe when people point out that this could have been clearer, or that could have been rephrased. I still feel defensive whenever this happens.
Sigh… being a writer.
Thank god the shoot is over
The shoot went well. Phew. I sighed an inner breath of relieve. I had such a sense of… not foreboding, but worry that things won’t go well, although Scott and Sophia seemed fine. Probably they’ve been through it before. They are more confident of their skills than I admit. I was also afraid that JuKhee would be difficult to handle, but she was really nice and sweet to talk to. I mean, I can see that she has lots of stress and responsibilities from her work. She wakes up to headaches, can you imagine? I mean, I too have experienced it, but it wasn’t a perpetual thing. For her, it’s almost everyday. And I couldn’t think of what to tell her to do, cos it’s obvious that it’s the pressure from work that’s causing her this. But she admits that she doesn’t take time for herself to take care… no discipline for exercise too, and she has a swimming pool at her condo!!!
Now, I must do some research on why people wake up with headaches… it would be useful to know to prevent in future, no? And I’m wondering how amenable she is to a health programme. Like what teas to drink, what foods to avoid, etc. Either email or fax her the programme or tell her to take out ONE day so that I can take her to buy these stuff. But she’s so busy…
I wonder if I can get her to sit down and do that ayurveda questionnaire… asking too much, huh? But it would be so good if she could do this. It might help a lot. Let me get that excel file prepared first… See… do an ayurveda questionnaire to find out the nature and personality, also can get a rundown of the appropriate diet, and throw in some aromatherapeutic techniques for the holistic side.
I’m very interested in learning up on holistic therapies. I want to learn how to utilise essential oils, herbs, flower teas and such. Not so much Bach Remedies or those already franchised products. Something more natural and basic. Things you do from scratch, which really allows you more flexibility in changing according to different situations. Bach Remedies is fixed, but you could mix them up to give you an all-round effect, as well. It is good. I wish Malaysia has a better fountain of resource in terms of all these natural products…
Got another translation job. But I told the woman that I was too busy this week and that if I were to do it, it would only be done end of next week. She said it was ok. And now I'm wondering if I should have accepted at all... After all, aunty Nik is done. Would I have time to accompany her and do my stuff?? Sigh....
Going crazy over translation
I’m going crazy over my translation. Imagine doing it five days in a row, non-stop. I hate it. I’ve already missed my yoga yesterday. I’m not gonna take another job till I feel I can. It’s so tiring. I couldn’t even translate the mandarin word for Tokyo!!
Feeling a bit stressed. My day job is suffering a little in the sense that my translation is always on my mind, and I have no mood to work anyway these few days. Which again I attribute to the translation!! Hmph!
I seriously hope I get to at least finish typing out the entire articles, whether it’s extremely raw or unpolished tonight. Polishing will have to wait for tomorrow. God, I wish that Bec were on leave. Then I can utilise the day at the office to do just that. I haven't even called Wish to confirm on the locations’ name! And there’s one part that I am confused about… ok, so, many parts!
Actually, I’m trying to push Depp away. It’s nagging me. I can feel it. It’s dying to come out. But I cannot afford to. Translation. So I gotta bury my nose again. Gotta finish this up. Sigh.
A little happier...
I’m a little happier today. Probably because I watched this Japanese cartoon called Cat’s Repayment. It was a good and clean show that brought a smile to my face at the end. It’s been a while since I’ve enjoyed a Japanese cartoon. I actually bought it a few weeks ago when I went out with Mel to survey the magazine booths. I actually hesitated to buy it. But then I thought, it’s really been awhile, and it was about cats. So, why not?
I’m still angry and dishearten by what happened over the past 3 days. It was so stupid. It always is. But that doesn’t make it any less painful.
I am happier today. Guess I’m trying to be optimistic and satisfied with myself, who I am, what I am and I can be. It’s not the easiest of tasks. My emotions fluctuate more than the stock exchange. But there are days when I hold on tenaciously. As best as I can…
I’m trying to do everything within my means to be happier. Even dressing up. Even putting on make-up everyday. Even buying clothes. Even indulging in expensive bath gels. I have to do everything I can. Otherwise I will just sink into depression and never get back out. The only thing I haven’t done is pray… for some reason, I couldn’t do it…
Maybe I’ll try next week… or tomorrow… or the day after… or maybe tonight…
Another reason I am much happier is because I spoke to Ju... and he always cheers me up... No matter what shit he has been through, he always manages to cheer me up, down-playing his pain and agony... Yes, I am a happier person after speaking with him...
Not my own person
Again, as part of her petty behaviour, she doesn’t call me to pray at the family altar.
Sometimes I am just so tired, so angry, so heartbroken. And again I am terrified that if I were a mother I would be just like her to my daughter… and that she would hate me like I hate her.
I wish I could get away from all these. Live on my own. Be my own person. I am not myself whenever I am home or with people. Who I am and what I am, is so stifled, I wouldn’t recognise it, even if it dropped on top of my head or slapped me in the face.
I wish I was not born.
You are nowhere near understanding me as a daughter, as a person, than you accuse me of not understanding or being insensitive to my brother.