English Classic Hits- Triggered Memories

Sometimes I wonder who am I writing all this for? I don't get a response and most of them the post is probably "read" by bots. Then, I realize I don't need an audience, I am mostly writing because I want to, because writing allows me to vent some for my feelings out, as pent up as they can be. Hence, this blog has become a diary to me, a personal outlet where I can be creative, lame, boring, exciting, angry, happy, knowledgeable, irritating, so on and so forth. So, when you are reading most posts here (except those tagged under poetic), I am just being myself, typing out whatever I am feeling at that moment. Sometimes, there is a more true me in my writings rather than the one I present in real life.

Anyway, today I was listening to old English songs (which include Tie a Yellow Ribbon around the Old Oak Tree, In the Ghetto, Daddy Cool, Country Road, Don't Cry Joni) and I was reminded of a journey made in 2002.

December 2002, Mum, my sisters and I boarded the MAS airplane heading to Kaoshiung, Taiwan. We were going there to for holiday with Appa who was working there at that time. The plane we took made a stop transit at Kota Kinabalu, and we were allowed to disembark from the plane for a short while to visit the airport. Now, I remember my second sister who at that time was 14 years old was very besotted with the air steward, so she actually gave the crew of the flight a box of chocolate (of course, she gave it to the person she liked, but claiming it was for all) that was bought in the KK airport where we stopped for transit. I also remember her being angry at the steward/ maybe it was me during final disembarkation because the steward smiled at me. I can't really remember what was my reaction to that, but I'd like to think that I probably goaded at her, like a true sister. We got on visa on arrivals, thank god without any trouble and mostly because we sisters all spoke Mandarin. At the terminal, appa was waiting and we boarded his jeep. Thinking it was rather late we would be heading back to wherever we were staying. But no, we were first brought to be introduced to all my father's colleagues, and bosses. This took place in a tiny shop that sold fresh seafood (out of the tanks). There was like about 10-15 of us, seated on small stools. And speaking the mother tongue of my father's colleague, we practically charmed the pants off most of them. Finally, we were brought to a motel where we were to spend our stay at (this I believe was paid by my dad's boss). Seriously, at that time, exposed to the motels back home where things were crap, I was expecting the worst. When we arrived, I was surprised, for one they had strict security at the entrance of the motel itself. Second, we had our own garage at our unit for parking, from where you take the stairs up to the room. So, my dad and mum, got a smaller room and we 3 sisters got a suit or something like that. Now, this part is probably one of the most amazing part of my stay in Taiwan. The room had a small living room with a futon and a bedroom with a king sized bed where all 3 of us could fit in. But the bathroom was my highlight, it was huge, and beautiful. Most importantly it came equipped with a jet bathtub, a jacuzzi and a steam sauna. Of course also a full body shower, which shoots at every part of your body. Honestly I was wowed and right then and there I vowed that next time I bought a place for my place its gonna be exactly like that. 

The next morning, we were served breakfast in our room, which happened unexpectedly and was rather amusing when we think back about it. I think we were all deep in sleep.(I was sleeping closes to the door, squashed in between me and my second sis, was my third sis) Then, suddenly, we felt someone jumping on us, and the a loud crash, and it was my second sister who panicked with the incessant ringing at 7am and jumped over us and crash landed on the floor. Up to now, I still crack up when I remember this scene we woke up to. Haha.. Anyway, the rest of the stay involved visiting places, meeting my dad'd friends, sitting at a roadside shop and watching people chew away the betel leaves, visiting more places, meeting more friends, making new friends. There are just too many memories for me to be detailing out one by one (otherwise this post would be pages long). Some of my father's friends became our friend who we kept in touch intermittently via facebook. My father's boss' daughters are our friend on Facebook too. 

Well, I missed the point right? The reason the English old songs reminded me of this memory, was because whenever we were in father's jeep during out stay in Taiwan, we were belting out the songs by heart and without music. All of us, my sisters, my dad, my mum and I together in sync, some louder than others, but nevertheless together, singing these songs in an order that we remember from listening to the CDs back home. I think that was a precious memory, our togetherness at that moment. 

I miss them - My sisters (all grown up, all with their own life), my Appa (who has passed away almost 4 years ago), my Amma (who is 10180km away from me).

#thoughts  

#memories

#missinghome 

My first story

I wrote my first story, I think I was 9/10 years old. It was written on pages torn out from the middle of my school notebook. I might have written about 15-20 pages of stuff that don't exactly remember writing, What I do remember, is feeling proud of completing this without it being an excuse for school. Something that I had always thought I would love to do. So, feeling accomplished, I gave 2 persons that I adore and love ~people whom I still love today~ to read. I remember being so nervous and anxious. Of course, after reading they were praising me, and saying it was well written and all the stuff you say to a child. But me being me, an overtly observant piece of shit, even at a young age, mostly deciphered their true feelings for my story just by their expression while they were reading. Their expression seemed to have said it all. Both of them looked surprised, worried, and  mildly disturbed. ~Now that I think of it, maybe the story was too adult for my age? Well, it contained kissing and stuff, which were at those days considered not suitable for children our age. However, with the exposure of TV (at that era), of course we were bound to find kissing all over our small screens~ Seeing their expression, I remember feeling terribly embarrassed, and useless and felt like I should never ever write anything more in my life. I think I kept up to this motto until senior high school. Until I had school assignments that required me to exchange diary-like essays with random classmates. ~I still have those stored in a box back home, and boy, they do bring back lots of memories~ From then I wrote, mostly for school assignments, then I wrote personal diaries ~of which I burnt at the end of the year, so stupid of me~ and then I started writing in blogs, I had a friendster account and a blog there ~unfortunately it has been wiped out~ so I lost most of my writings there. There I had gmail, which came with blogger, and I started writing here. It feels liberating at times to just write down things, and especially when I am upset, angry or lost. It is also fun to re-visit these old writings someday, and think back what the hell did I do on this day. I also dabble in some not very poetic writings ~I suck at that~. Nowadays I read a lot of fanfictions and there are some who are really really very good at writing, very imaginative, some of them make me cry, laugh, and get emotional along with their characters. But ever since ~my first story~, I have never attempted anything serious, I don;t think I can write very well anyway, and i am not that imaginative nor am i creative. I think my confidence took a serious beating even back then.

Moral of the story: Be mindful of how you treat children, not only with your words and gestures but also your expression towards them, Because cumulatively these will create a life long lasting impression of them. Impacting their behavior and attitude in work, life, and overall being a human.,,,

Thank you

Hey there,

I have not updated anything new about myself recently, have I?

If you are reading this blog ~hahaha,.. I am pretty no one is~, then you must have seen my angry personal blogs and also some very random poetic attempts of mine.

I graduated last year, you know. Getting there was not an easy journey. First, I lost my dad before he even got a chance to know I was gonna do my PhD. Then my supervisor schedules my seminar 3 weeks after he dies. I was so frustrated at that time, couldn't get anything right, broke down at weirdest moment. Went to get superb drunk one night with my friend, ending puking in the toilet later. You know, I almost backed out of doing a phd. Then I thought to myself, what am i gonna do then? How am I gonna support my family, I have a mum and a younger sister who will be depending on me. I had 6 dogs at home that need to be fed. So, I decided to continue, to strive along, not give up and make my parents proud.

These 3 years, I had many travelling opportunities, I met great people, people whom still have place in my heart. I has great company and friends, but somewhere along the line, somewhere in 2014, there was a rift between me and my supervisor. It all started with my thesis, although I had finished writing and given her for correction, she told me that  I need that 2 publication (which mind you, I already had), and don't need to submit my thesis until the paper which was just sent for revision was accepted. I was so angry, because she had no problem with my thesis, everything was done well, i had all the necessities to submit my thesis, but for some reason, she just didn't want me to do so. I should have left then, should have listened to my mum. But no, I was too naive, too stupid, too kind-hearted because later when she begged me to not leave her lab after I completed my thesis, i stayed. And hell broke loose in September 2014. I think I have never felt that abused in my whole life. I have felt as used as I was for the 6 months that i was there. I lost my self confidence, I lost my esteem, I lost all good memories that I had of that place. I was broken, I hit rock bottom, and remained there until the line was crossed, where I was accused to be a lousy teacher. I left. And i think that was one of the best decision I made in my whole life, I would be jobless for the next few months, but I regained myself. I became happier, I was smiling sincerely once more, I lived without fear and humiliation.

But you know, all through this diversity, I had my mum and the memory of my dad, my aunt, my sisters, my brother-in-law, my niece, my 2 good friends who walked every step with me. Some who cried with me, some that made me laugh openly, some who were silently suffering together with me. You know, without them I really really wouldn't have survived these years. I wouldn't be here now.

So despite being late for this year's thanksgiving, I want thank god for all of you who have been the pillar of my life. Thank you all for being here and there, still being here and there for me. Thank you for everything, every memory, every tear, every smile, every gift, every time spent. I love you all

Random

Topic 1
There are days when I just wanna give up. Today is one of them. Actually I take that back, I have been feeling like this since last Thursday. Nothing complicated has happened, yet it feels like every single thing is complicated and the whole universe together is conspiring against me. Now, I wish this feeling to go away, shoo shoo go away and never come back again.

Topic 2
Time flies, doesn't it? Extremely fast. I left my job at the end of March. And before I know it, it is already end of August. In a months time, I will be spreading my and flying away. I spent 5 months, not working in the lab but elsewhere, working at home, learning new skills- plumbing, tiling, repairing, spending time with my darlings (Amma and my sweetheart). I feel refreshed, and I am ready for another adventure.

Stupid LOVE

This is something I put up on my old blog a few years ago, and today I am feeling the same thing again. I care not to write it again, but when I look through what I wrote, they still hold the same, nothing has changed. Here it goes (yellow) is my previous blog and (red) is my how I feel now, this very minute!

Hmmm.. I am have been thinking, and thinking and pondering real hard (no more thinking too hard, it's there, in front of my eyes, in front of everyone's eyes, no point thinking already)

But still I haven’ found an answer to my question! yeah

When 2 people love each other very much, do they have to hurt each other that very much as well?

I can’t take it to see people who claim to love each other fight like dogs, argue, uncompromising, uncapable of understanding each other, not speaking the mind out, not willing to hear each other out, always hurting each other by the words they say to each other. I can’t take it, i really really cannot take, it pains me terribly moreover if it involves people I love dearly… When they fight, when one hurts the other, when they are trying their best to see who can kill each other with their poisonous words, do they ever stop to think about those around them, or even themselves and how if this person is no more in their life (even if they still are, how would they feel, how much hurt they have to bear through, how much efforts been made, how those witnessing them would feel, how this would end with broken hearts and broken souls?). Have they ever thought, I am angry, yes I am very angry, but why am I letting out my anger on someone i love dearly, someone their very life is interconnected to, someone their very soul is depended on… People can take hurtful to certain amount only, then they will retaliate or worse they will leave, either leaving them or leaving the world once and forever… Why do people take their loved ones for granted? Are they that dispensable? Are they your punching bag? But these are people you love, people you know would support you any time any place (is that the very fact, you are abusing them this way? because you know they will never leave you??)!!!!

When i ask these people, why do you even hurt each other, why do you do this to each other? Why do they fight an quarrel? Why don’t you love the other person anymor?

And the answer is always: “This is life,!!”. “Life is like this” (nowadays its worse, because they themselves don't know why they are in this kind of relationship, the one that breaks your soul)

No, if life is really like this, then I don’t want this type of life.. I don’t want to love anybody, I don’t want to be close to anybody, I don’t want to fight with anyone, I do not want to one day hurt someone I love or be hurt by someone l love. I do not want this type of life.. This is not life, I don’t know what this is, but if this really is LIFE, then forget life, take me somewhere where there is no LIFE. Take me to where the grass is green and the sky is blue, there is ample of clean water, and animals roaming freely according to their food ladder, take me to where there is love and only love. (no, i rephrase, take me to where there is happiness and peace, because LOVE only exists in fairy tales, books, and dramas)

I don’t want this type of LIFE!!! Yes, I don't want this kind of life.