A Single Tear

firstly i would like to thank all of u who sent me a msg regarding on my writing. it's nice to know that people ou there enjoy reading the fictional stuff i write and those of u who gave constructive comments, a very big thank u from the bottom of my heart.

it's been really busy these few weeks for me lately, with assignments piled up and trying to hand it up before the deadline. i have a huge assignment due tomorow and i'm pretty much done, just a few adjustments here and there and voila! like the turkey on thanksgiving, i'm done.

i had quite a bad dream last night, it was intense as well cause i started biting on my pillow and woke up that very moment. let me start by saying i'm not insane, well a part of me is and i think that is reflected in my dreams.

so what happened that caused me such anger? i dreamt of Chris*, all of us (my friends) were on a bed some place, chilling out and laughing and chatting and i see him and Stephen hugging each other and being touchy feely. i glared at him but they didnt stop. but suddenly Stephen turned around (i could only see his back, but somehow i knew it was him) and it turned out to be Milo, my former ex-bf. so there i was watching Chris and Milo make out right infront of me and all i was doing is sitting there and watch the remainder of my heart get smashed into a million pieces. anyways i got up from where i was sitting and went towards both of them. i bent over and whispered in Chris' ear, "we're over, now u can start seeing other men" and i slapped him across the face.

i went out the room leaving behind a crowd of appalled faces and i went into another room where James was there and he started to make comments that were hitting below the belt. so i started beating him up but he managed to avoid a few of my blows and was heading for the door. when i grabbed his arm he was out the door and shutting it with full force, i didnt know what to do, i wanted to hurt him badly so i bit his hand...hence the biting of the pillow in real life. i woke up there, with anger written all over my face with a tinge of sadness.

question is, did i just had a look into my future?

*all names have been changed so respect my privacy and do not ask who these people are*

Assignment Blues

these past few days have been so hectic for me. basically cause all my assignments are due in one after another and it's rushing everything in that turns my hair grey. so i manage to get an extension for my Writing assignment, something which i actually take pride in doing. i'm gonna post it up for u guys to read, give me comments on it, like the tenses, emotives, did i show instead of telling the readers, what u got from it, whether i actually have a plot in it cause in the assignment it's supposed to be describing a character in the stillness of time so it's supposed to be plotless. so anyways enjoy reading and send me comments.

Tap tap tap.

Celes Cohen tapped the tip of her blood red Manolo Blahniks together, hoping she would be whisked away just like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz. She loved the movie when she was a little girl and always begged her mother to watch it with her over and over again. Celes looked up to see the signboard of the café, it looked huge from where she was sitting. Nulle part Ailleurs. No place else. She studied French during her high school years and was always known as the geek in red, basically cause of her fiery red hair and the fact that she always came home with As.

The pink scar on her right shoulder contrasted her white and smooth alabaster skin, it was visible to the naked eye and it was the only gift from her father. The one scar on her perfect marble body, pulsating with hate and anger. With that she saw men differently, scum and bastards. No man was worth her time unless they were gay and then again she did not like the fact that they have a penis.

Celes slid her long frail arms and dug deep into her Hermes birken bag and shuffled some stuff around, looking for her Chanel compact. She learned that she had to look fresh and beautiful in order to book jobs where she had to work with photographers shouting directions at her in a snooty accent. She made friends with the make-up artists, who were responsible for transforming her from a pretty girl to the IT girl, the girl with the je ne sais pas as the French say it. She rewarded herself with the Crémeux à l'Ananas, the café’s trademark desert, for making it on the front page of French Vogue. She had to thank Ford Models for signing her up when she was 16, allowing her to work the runway in the Olympus Fashion Week and the Mercedes Benz Fashion Week as well as book her jobs that pay for her weekly splurge in Soltice products.

She opened her compact and looked into the mirror reflection of herself. Her eyes were like two sapphires glowing in a pool of milk. She always thought people would like her after looking into her eyes, yet people seem to be put off by her attitude towards life. Her eyes are the only gateway into her soul but no women she was interested in wanted to get to know that soft side of her. They preferred her the way she was, the way she presented herself; hard and opinionated.

She checked her lips, to see whether the color of her lipstick was still in tact. It was perfect, red and luscious. The signs of the silicon injection healed over the past few days. Her first visit to Dr. Andrew Ng and it was a success, just like the doctor said. She was not really excited to make a visit to the plastic surgeon as she did not think anything was wrong with her. But her modeling agent wanted it for her and when the needle pierced through the skin on her lips, she remembered what her mother said to her, “Beauty is pain…”.

Celes pursed her lips together and fluttered her eyes to shake off the mascara clumps that had gathered on her eyelashes. She then closed her compact and dropped it into her handbag

“Last shot! The camera loves you Celes!” a man’s voiced boomed.

Celes Cohen shifted her gaze slowly and looked straight at the camera, her eyes piercing through the lens.

Snap.

You Give Me Fever

spending the whole weekend in bed and not doing anything constructive is great. i'm down with a fever, the flu and my muscles (yes i do have some) ache. plus i have a major assignment which i havent really started yet and it's due tomorow. the migraine which has nestled itself in my head is going off like an alarm clock every 15 minutes.

that's the great thing about being sick, u're allowed to be lazy and u're not judged for it since there's a justification that u're sick so u should rest more. leave it to a professional BUM to give the world explanations such as these.

the other day i was ranting about this play called Screwed, let me bitch and moan about the ramifications of going to a play. firstly there are many gay guys there, those of whom are either checking me out or checking my boyfriend out, but mostly they're checking my boyfriend out and wondering why in the world is he with me. well there's a simple answer for that honey, cause i'm worth it.

so the other day i saw cheryl and she said she needed to speak to me so i pulled her aside and asked her what's up. she asked me whether i knew rachel, the girl who was in Screwed so i said yes i met her on sunday after the play.

then cheryl continued, "oh, cause rachel asked me whether u were gay so i said yes. and then she said someone was interested in you so she wanted to hook u guys up."

i was like...HUH? i was there with C and we were pretty much holding hands throughout the whole play, well we werent really holding hands but we were being touchy feely.

i wanted to know who it was rachel wanted to set me up with so i told cheryl not to tell her that i had a boyfriend and to ask her who it was. so a few days came to pass and cherly suddenly smsed me out of the blue and said:

"it's the professor guy in the play"

WHAT! i didnt even know he was gay, i just thought he was a good actor. but he looks awfully familiar and i cant exactly place my finger on where i've seen him before.

so there are bitchy artsy fartsy people who attend plays and theatre productions such as these, who actually think they're alot more cultured than most people when they're being sucked into this whole scheme of being a colonial slave. the worst of these are bitchy GAY artsy fartsy people who actually think they're better than anyone else and rather not talk to people who arent on the same "level" as themselves.

well it was a good experience though, i think i'm pretty cultured when it comes to my westernized malaysian heritage, i think i'm pretty westernized in that sense but to come to think of it, what is being asian? what is being western? what are Asian values? i think these terms are coined up by people who actually believe they're trying to separate themselves from society. to believe that u're bigger than the world is just opening urself up for attack.

it's funny cause Tengku Adnan, the malaysian miniter for tourism said "We have to show to the people our positive attitude. If the world learns from us, there will peace and no civil war."

this dude actually said this in response to the Indonesian blogger/tv journalist Nila Tanzil, who didnt exactly have many nice things to say about the Msian bureaucracy while she was here shooting a travel show. he basically said that all "Bloggers are liars. They use all sort of ways to cheat others. From what I know, out of 10,000 unemployed bloggers, 8,000 are women."

see? these are how malaysian politicians act. got a problem? blame someone else! dont blame the politicians for being stupid in the words and actions. malaysia boleh!

tengku adnan went on by saying "Bloggers like to spread rumours, they don't like national unity. Today our country has achievements because we are tolerant and compromising. Otherwise we will have civil war."

yes...i think we bloggers really start civil wars. if there wasnt anything wrong with the malaysian government then there wouldnt be anything for us to talk shit about.

so...Malaysia Truly Asia? think twice.

Screwed

i went for a play with C recently, my first ever play apart from the one that i've participated during my grade school days. it was called Screwed, a compilation of short stories which were then made into a theatre production. i must say, for my first play in yonkers it was fantastic. i especially loved the Mirror Has Two Faces bit where there were two actresses; each one sorta facing each other doing the same thing (like when one was brushing her teeth with her right hand the other one was used her left). it was precisely timed and even though there werent any dialogue, it spoke to me. there was this part where they were both laying down, and one of them was crying out loudly and shrieking and the other was laughing insanely. it sent shivers down my spine to see how innovative the whole piece was.

to me it was like living two lives in this woman's head, schitzophrenia if u will. in the end they both stabbed themselves and the crying one died while the insane laughing girl walks off. it was so powerful...and it was fantastic.

talking about fantastic, life has still given me the chance to enjoy whatever i have at the moment but there are a few major problems within my relationship with C. dont get me wrong, we're happy together. it's just that i recently found out that he's leaving to the states next year august and we both dont believe in long distance relationships. so what do we have now? a short term relationship? i'm not sure, but i feel like our relationship is like a product in the supermarket aisle, Expiration Date: AUG 2008. i think about this all the time, i know i shouldnt but i do. that's because i've already pictured us in the future, living together etc etc.

so what should i do now? i do like him alot but sometimes i wish i didnt find out, ignorance IS bliss.

Why Write?

i'm happy these few days, which doesnt exactly give me a reason to really blog. after going through my blogs one after another, i realized that my life is really depressing. i only write when i'm down and depressed, which is possibly the reason why i write. the following is what i wrote for one of my assignments (i got a Distinction for it, go me!) for my Writing class, which i would like to share with everyone. that's basically because i ran out of stuff to write about...i'm happy, forgive me, enjoy.

Why write? I write basically to bitch and moan about every single thing that is wrong with my life or dare I say the universe. But that was before I started writing on a regular basis. Now I write to get my emotions out. Since I realized that I do not wear my emotions on my sleeve, I have to find a way to get it all out. In that sense I relate to Austin (1982) and Bird (1993), in what they wrote. Austin writes about his past, the nostalgia and the reason why he became a writer today; Bird writes about how she puts the facts in her past into the fictional writing that she has created. I on the other hand write to re-live my past, to remind me of the growing pains that I had endured and the happy moments I have lived through. I write based on my emotions and try to bring it to a higher level. For example, my memories have made me write things that is hard to face in real life, but by channeling my experience I can write about a minimalist room which has nothing in it apart from a chair and a dangling light bulb, all because I felt empty in life at that exact moment after writing my memoirs on paper. The room, like how i envision my life to be, is empty apart from a few minor details. From that I was able to expand and bring a character in that I felt resembled me on a different level. Like Austin, I was able to create nostalgia, like Bird I was able to channel this nostalgia or facts into something else; fictional writing.

So why write? Maybe other people write just for the hell of it, maybe they just write because they feel like it or they have too many ideas and thoughts in their head they just need a way to channel it out. But personally, I write with my emotions and feelings up front. Finding a way to merge fact into fiction by emphasis of certain details and make the readers relate to me, that's why I write.

one of these days i have to post my writing pieces for u guys to see. some of my readers will like it, some of them wont. but i honestly hope u, as a reader would have an impact upon reading it. after all, that's what i'm here for.

My First Kiss

i didnt expect things to turn out the way they did last night. it seemed like it came from a hollywood movie where everything just seemed dreamy and blurry. let me explain...

i had a date last night with C again, i've been seeing him for a couple of weeks and i have the most intense feeling with him whenever we go out. the conversation goes well, all the smells work, we like each other, etc etc. so last night he introduced me to his friends, whom i thought were a hoot. i thought after reading a couple entries from their blogs, they would turn out to be pretentious boobs who have their nose up in the air but instead they turned out to be good people with great personalities, at least from the first impression.

so after dinner we all left, since C didnt have class today we decided to go to 65 where he could see where i used to work and meet a couple of friends. he sang a song, told me that was a serenade for me which is pretty ironic cause he sang When You Say Nothing At All and that sorta means shut up and stop talking. it was sweet though.

we left soon after and drove to the Mackers at The Curve and just started chatting about everything, our current situation, our past, etc. then it came, our first kiss. his lips tasted like...marmalade. i wanted more. we spent a couple of hours just making out in the car and my lips were raw from all the kissing but i still crave for more. so then i popped the question: will u be my boyfriend? i didnt expect these words to come out of my mouth but it did. and he said yes.

i seriously was/still am happy. it's been a while since butterflies floated around my stomach and my heart beats faster whenever i'm around him. i really do want to utter those sweet three words to him but i figured it's too soon to be saying it. but i sorta do feel it though, just trying not to abuse the word "love" like how everyone uses it like it's just another word.

when i got home, i realized that i really really like the guy. i could make something out of our relationship, it could be great...no. it could be fantastic. i guess i just wanna be happy with him.

One Word

someone asked me to describe myself in one word...i had to think long and hard before i came up with a very mundane word which sums up what sorta character i am.

i chose the word "funny ". basically because i'd like to think that i'm a funny guy and that i'm fun to be around with (how self-involved am i?). also because u could turn it around and also say it's the other sort of funny, the weird sorta funny which explains why i'm me most of the time. and yes i am weird, i buy guys flowers on our third date.

which brings me to the topic of getting flowers. i dont buy flowers...honestly i dont. but with the guy i'm seeing now i felt like he would like it and maybe appreciate it (yes i'm gonna bitch and moan about it). anyways let me just write about what happened today.

after dinner with my parents i went to Centrepoint to get a rose or something for the guy that i'm seeing, i thought it would be a nice gesture. so i went there and picked out the only roses that were in full bloom and looked fresh and asked the woman to wrap it up for me. this woman...is seriously living in her own little world. the roses were yellow and she was like "oh okay...i'm gonna use purple and yellow wrapping."

i told her no...dont use yellow and purple wrapping...that's rather tacky and it looks really bad. then she said "no it looks okay...come let me try it" and she basically wrapped the whole thing up with me standing there and saying "no i dont want it", "it seriously looks fugly", "why arent u listening to me???" and "what is wrong with u woman!?!?"

she was like...toodle doo..doing her own thing and ignoring whatever i had to say. in the end it looked like crap and i had no time so i paid for it and left. so i had ugly wrapping paper around pretty flowers, i hoped that C would look at the pretty flowers before thinking what horrible taste i have. so i went to pick him up for a movie and he took one look at my flowers and said "who are these for?". he picked it up and sat down and i said those are for u.

what was his response? "oh....."

silence.

we had a laugh about it though, he's not the sorta person who would appreciate flowers and very feminine stuff, which i thought he would, how silly of me. but i thought it was a nice gesture and so did he and on the way back from the movie he ripped off the wrapping paper and kept the flowers instead.

so what lesson did i learn? never bring anyone who isnt out of the closet...flowers or stuffed toys or anything that symbolizes femininity (edible panties anyone?).