Am I the only one left on the planet who does not feel the need to procreate? My lady parts are working fine but my so-called biological clock ain’t ticking like all those around me.

I feel so damned alone that I’m about to burst into tears.

Which is stupid. So I shall hold them back.

The thing is, I don’t understand this phenomenon at all. One moment they’re normal women, the next, all they can bloody talk about are their babies. Well, I suppose it is life-changing. But what happens when your kids start having a life of their own. Wouldn’t you start to realize, hey, where did mine go? I really do think some of these babies are cute and adorable, but I feel the same way about dogs. Perhaps even more so about dogs.

I choose to have a life of my own, I wouldn’t say as fabulously as Carrie Bradshaw’s, but similarly without children. I feel no need to bring any of mine into this world. Why? I think there are enough kids popping out as it is, planned or unplanned. It seems stupid to me when people see orphans and feel pity for them and go all “aww…poor things” and the next moment, they’re having 5 kids of their own. Seriously?!

But Carrie had Samantha, who felt even more strongly about kids. My Samantha? Still nowhere to be seen. I have a whole lot of friggin’ Charlottes though. And it’s honestly driving me up the wall. Hi, I don’t want kids, so I don’t understand why you do, so like…I don’t really know what to say when you tell me you’re having one. I feel like I’m on a friggin’ test. People are gauging my reaction to see how happy I am for them. Hint: You need to be THIS happy.

No, I’m not a cold person. I feel sorry for anyone who’s unfortunate enough to be going through abuse, animals who are being mistreated, anyone who is sick and dying…and then when they manage to overcome their misfortunes and heal, I feel true joy for them.

But expecting me to be happy for your choice to bring SOMEMORE children into the world? No, I honestly am hard-pressed to feel any. And the friggin’ pressure I feel to produce any sort of joy for these people is starting to crush me. Because I want to be a good friend. So I listen to your mundane stories about breastfeeding, about stretch marks, about giving birth, about all sorts of shit (sometimes literally) that I chose not to go through. OMG. I listen to many stories that I started to offer advice to expecting mothers. WTF. And then I also have to hold back laughter when most of these people undergo superstitious rituals that make absolutely no sense to me at all. In fact, they should make no sense to everyone, but it’s mind-boggling how it’s not. Like hello…not bathing WTF? Not eating vegetables WTF?

I’ll probably be crucified for airing these opinions of mine. But seriously, enough. Please, enough. Will my friggin’ Samantha arrive already!

PS: The next clueless person, relative or acquaintance or friend, who deigns to tell me to get married and have kids soon ain’t getting no polite answer. And boy oh boy, Chinese New Year is coming. This is going to be fun.

Instead of living this life. A selfish, separate life. Separate bedrooms. Separate mealtimes. Separate hobbies. Separate friends.

I remind myself to stay present and be grateful for everything else. But occasionally, like now for instance, I allow the tears to flow. Because I feel so alone.

I understand the desire for a family, for a husband who is legally bound to you, for a child who biologically belongs to you. Sometimes I wish that I could be normal and just settle for the same mediocre choices. But when I wake up tomorrow, I know that this impulse will go away and I will still believe in the same things that I did before.

So for now, I guess I’ll just cry.

Manners on the road aside (that topic will have to be broken up into a multitude of posts), why have Malaysians become so damn inconsiderate that they’re just plain rude nowadays? If you want to know whether you’re being mindful of your manners and the proper etiquette, just ask yourself if you happen to be inconveniencing anyone at the time. And no, just because you don’t mind your own big ass being right smack in the middle of the way doesn’t mean someone else won’t.

Most of the time, I’m flabbergasted at what parents are willing to put up with from their children nowadays. Admittedly, I’m not a very patient person. Still, if you have a super annoying kid whom you cannot or will not control, or if you are under some illusion that it is fine for them to be screaming at the top of their lungs all the time, or even if you are deluded enough to believe that everybody thinks your kid is adorable and therefore doesn’t mind being rammed into or stepped on, then I suggest you take a step back and look at the other kids.

Because if your kid is the only one in the vicinity who is running around like a maniac, or if your kid is the only thing you can hear around the neighbourhood, or if everyone in the restaurant is throwing you dirty looks, then bloody hell do something about it. Because no, N-O, no, it isn’t fine.

Why would you bring a baby out shopping or to the restaurant when it is inevitable that it will start bawling (well, unless you drug them first). Yes, you should keep them at home. You chose to have the baby, not the rest of the world. Suck it up and stay at home with it until it’s old enough to know better.

Why would you allow your kid to run amok at home, terrorizing the maid and perhaps some innocent neighbours who don’t know any better, screaming from day till night, and then expect any different when you bring them out to a public place? You chose to allow such abominable behaviour, not the rest of the world. If he’s old enough to know better and he’s still acting like he’s possessed then stop having kids! You’re obviously a horrible parent.

Why am I saying such mean things about your kids? I’m just stating a fact. A fact that YOU allowed to happen. A fact that YOU helped create. Why would you have 2, 3, 4 kids when you can’t even parent one?

I don’t hate all kids. I know lovely, wonderful kids who are balanced and have been brought up well. A rarity nowadays, but a huge testament to the admirable parenting that must have taken place. All I’m trying to say is, YOU chose to have the child, BE a parent, not a dumb baby-making machine.

I HATE LAB!!!

What is wrong with students nowadays? So utterly incapable of following simple instructions. Just follow the damn diagram and the damn obvious instructions. I have no idea how much more explicit the instructions have to be to help you complete the lab. Maybe if all you had to do was to click ‘OK’ and all the results then magically appear before your eyes would you deem this lab simple and straightforward??? WTF?!

Our damn school system has incapacitated all students and downright stripped them of most if not all practical capabilities. And if that is not bad enough, nowadays they’re becoming blind as well. Hello? ‘Pspice’ is right there on the menu bar in front of your eyes. Do you need ANOTHER pair of spectacles to help you spot it? Sometimes I am so completely flabbergasted at the questions these students ask that I am stunned for a few seconds before I am able to give any sort of reply. Literally stunned and silent for a few seconds. Why? Because of questions like:

“Miss, which way do I add the libraries?”

The arrow on the menu clearly pointed right. Stunned into silence.

There are simple questions and then there are stupid questions. Yes, indeed there are stupid questions. It is when you throw all logic out the window and are somehow immobilized, incapable, I don’t know what, of using your senses, your freaking senses, to SEE and THINK for yourself before opening your GD mouth.

Downright SHAMEFUL and undeserving to be called university students. OMG. Giving me a morning headache. End rant.

It’s been almost 6 years since my father passed from lung cancer. I miss him less often, but I miss him as much. So much. Little events trigger memories of him.

Like how I’d help him fill his ang pows on the eve of CNY.
Like how we’d always celebrate our birthdays together because they were only a day apart.
Like how he was so frugal with himself but didn’t mind splurging on me.
Like how we didn’t share the same blood but I was the one he loved the most.
Like how much I liked to see him laugh at my jokes.
Like how proud I know he was everytime I came home with an A in my exams, especially on the day I graduated from university.
Like how happy he was to be accepting money I earned myself.
But all I have left are these memories. Because he’s gone forever. Taken by his addiction to smoking.

I abhor people who act all nonchalant about their health. The ones who flippantly tell you: “If I die then die lar. Everyone has to die anyway. I’m probably just leaving sooner rather than later.”
Well, unless you’re the Grinch, chances are that there’s someone who loves you and would be devastated that you are choosing to go sooner. So go feck yourself, you irresponsible inconsiderate moron.

Because if only I’d asked my father to stop smoking, he might still be around.

If you’ve been so fortunate as to never have encountered illness with a loved one, you’ll not understand the suffering it brings. You’ll not understand the heartache you experience when you realize that he/she is slowly slipping away and there is nothing much you can do about it. You’ll not fathom the helplessness of watching a parent lying there, emaciated, yet praying with hope for a miracle, and all you can effing do is massage his aching bones because there’s hardly any flesh left, and you can’t stop the tears from coming as you look at your sister and you both know the inevitability of the situation.

It’s been almost 6 years. But it always feels like just yesterday.

All the reading has made me think about my situation with The Gardener, and whether any man would’ve been able to deal better. And somehow it made me think about Idol contestant, Chris Medina. Because seriously, how many men do you know personally who would’ve acted the same way? Perhaps my brothers, but really, noone else I know. And that made me realize the fact that more women are willing to sacrifice for love than men. Which is sad. Because why are women more willing to accept their partners wholly, flaws and all (most of the time), but most men whinge and complain about their gfs and wives and then proceed to look for ‘hotter’ women who are more eager to please? Of course, we complain, too, but we don’t just drop you like a hat.

Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to have different needs fulfilled by different men. Like…one for hot sex, one for arm candy, one for intelligent conversations, one for fun outings, and one for miscellaneous duties. So I need a couple more lar…

I would have liked to start this post with a profound statement like: “This book changed my life.” But that has yet to be seen, so I shall not say it It has given me a lot of perspective on life, though, and in some instances, brought me some degree of inner peace that has so far managed to tame the inner insanity that I have had to fight for the past few years.

I would urge everybody to read it, but I understand how not just anybody is prepared to accept it, so I’ll leave it to your curiosity to ponder upon the possibilities that could be available within its pages.

What I do want to say though, is how I am beginning to learn about the concept of true forgiveness, which has been all elusive to me throughout the years. If I had any reason to be peeved about something, I would simmer and cook and plot, neither forgiving nor forgetting. And it has made me nothing but bitter. Not that the other person had any knowledge or even had their life affected in any way. But I would go on anyway, holding on to the grudge, stewing in my own poison.

But I’ve realized that the one person that I cannot forgive the most is…myself. When I close my eyes and relive the act that brings me the most guilt and embarrassment, my natural reaction is to push it away, store it someplace safe where I don’t have to face it. Then the other day, I made myself confront it, accept it, and let it go. Cringing all the while, but at the end of it, peace. And if I can forgive myself, then who else is there to begrudge? If now is the only reality, then nobody did anything real to hurt me, so who is there, really, to forgive?

I’m not saying that letting go is easy, because man, it takes a whole lot of focus and attention to keep yourself in the now. But realizing that I can face/think about all these people without flinching is truly…liberating.

I shall stop now, because don’t want to come across as being this New Age spiritual freak kind. Am not. Still do not really believe in the god that everybody who freaks me out is holding on to. But I am finding my own peace my own way. Just…if you are on the brink of craziness like I was, come talk to me.

These tears of mine

It breaks and breaks again

This heart of mine

Unable to stop, unwilling to go away

And yet, here I stay.

Alone, I feel alone

In this empty house

Myself, I’m by myself

In this wretched world

Broken, twisted and paralyzed

So here I stay.

Right now I feel pain, I feel sorrow, I ache

So jump, jump I say.

Noone to ease the pain, relieve the sorrow, soothe the ache

I want to fly far, far away.

Into nothing.

Into freedom.

Into peace.

But today, here I stay.

After his passing, this role of his was never filled.

Perhaps I should file a disclaimer before I go on. It is not the intention of this post to sound extra pathetic nor is it seeking for sympathy. It is just a fact that I have come to realize over the past couple of days. Ever since my presentation. Which I have tried to brush off and not dwell on, because that is not the way I want to live my life anymore. My life is now. Nevertheless, it is annoying but true that what happened still bugs me. But what saddens me even more is how I have noone in my life right now who loves me enough to empathize. It doesn’t even have to be someone who understands.

I guess I am sad that I am only a priority to myself. Perhaps that is all well and good enough, for who can love me better than myself? OK lar…

I dunno.

But this is the second time that I have landed in a situation such as this. So I say, FUCK IT!

I cannot help it if the projector screws up my slides. I cannot help it if my presentation was constrained by time hence the intended explanation could not have been longer even if I wanted to. I cannot help it if I speak like I do, that’s just me.

But six years after that truly traumatic experience presenting to a horror of a woman, I am faced with another. Maybe it’s a sign that my future lies somewhere else. Nevertheless, her ignorance and arrogance was infuriating. In retrospect, her suggestions now seem comical. DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT YOU’RE SAYING??

Whatever happens though, I only have the now. And now, I am glad to find that I am learning to be at peace with situations and circumstances that are out of my control.

A special note to John who had kind and understanding words for me. Thank you.