If so... then thank you

If being silent, completely silent is your way of doing what's best for me, then I thank you.

If you ever include me in your prayers as the only way to show your concern for me, then I thank you ever more.

If so... then I really thank you.

It's perhaps my very weakness and vulnerability that makes me so ironically strong.

Thank you. That's it.

all packed-up

Everything is packed-up neatly and nicely within this blog. I can't throw it all away like one can surgically remove memories in 'Eternal sunshine on a spotless mind'. But I sure can start by vicariously putting this blog out bare to bear, and tying it up with a simple string - to be all packed-up and done.

So I lived a 'I'd rather forget' childhood, and so I'm living a complicated life now, and so I will live on fulfilling my bond, then travelling overseas, then growing old (if I do) and then pass on, and the world will still go on and on many generations over and nothing I do (or most anyone else) will be of importance.

In the bigger picture? We ain't anything. Except for what we are to ourselves, right here, right now.

I will stop thinking. Starting from tomorrow. When my mail is out, so is all this. Bye.

finally

He behaves predictably. Sometimes, I feel that I know him inside-out, that I'm upset not because I know he's any better, but because I know better, and I still persist in crafting all these fucking illusions around him.

Ma's right, people don't change. Especially not people like him, and not people like my dad. I'm so fucked-up, my dear, but then, so is my entire family. This whole things was fucked from the beginning. Ma would have been happier marrying some boring, nerdy guy she met at uni. Anyone, anyone at all but my dad.

There're some things I can't even bear to admit to myself, yet alone to anybody else. I have never talked about this to anyone, anyone, because I can't. Because it hurts too fucking much. If even Ma can't bear to admit it to herself, to get out of this entirely fucked-up life she has been leading for the last 20+ years, then how I? How can my brother? How can anyone else outside of it understand? I really don't, I don't understand at all.

I wholeheartedly approve of divorce, because I have experienced first-hand for most of my life how otherwise, staying together will only destroy everyone trapped within an unhappy 'family'. Ma says she's satisfied, so long as she can come home to her children. But how one ever be happy when one knows that she has been betrayed by love, that she can never grow old with someone she trusts beside her, that she cannot even talk to anyone about it, that her life only revolves around her never-ending work, her endless numbing shopping for clothes and yet more clothes, and lastly, around her daughter who is the only person she can count on and talk to?

To everyone else, she is successful, fashionable, beautiful and charismatic. But only I know just how hollow her life is.

She can only count on me. But who can I count on? My brother and I shouldn't have had to have a childhood full of arguments, fights and cold wars. A childhood where I can never bring my friends home, where I can never tell my friends why I never want to talk about my parents, where I can only cry in my room and can't even tell my parents why.

So many times, I wished that they would just end it, so that all of us can move on. I really don't care for statistics showing how divorced children suffer. All I know is, unhappy children trapped in forced families suffer just as well.

That's why being in Aust was so liberating. Finally, I could forget my responsibilities, I could forget all the bitterness, I could forget that I was part of a dysfunctional family.

If you say that I wanna run away, you're absolutely right. The years have only rendered all of us even better actors at pretending we're a complete family, they have only made it easier to hide, to cover at all cost the privacy we need to protect. Ma works in the real world.. but really, she has no idea at all of what the real world is like. I love her so much, but it gives me so much pain to see her like this, and living the rest of her life like this. But at the same time, I hate her so much too for making my life this big fat joke. For causing me so much pain, for making me unable to ever lift my head high and bear myself to anybody else.

That's why I wanna run away. To stay on my own, in a place where no one knows me or will ever know me, a place where all is peaceful and simple and everything is crystal-clear without complications. I don't want to have to rely on others for anything, and I don't want to have to owe anyone anything. No credit cards, no insurance, no plans no nothing.

I don't believe in planning for the long-term, for the future. Because I find it very hard to believe I have a future. Or maybe, I really don't want one. I just want to keep things simple, to keep it all so simple, so that I can finally stop thinking, stop all this thinking that drives me crazy.

That's why I write. There's nobody I can tell this to.
And that's why I read & write. To take myself into another world, so I can escape from this one, even if for a little while.

I don't like people. They're all mostly far too stupid than they should be, too self-absorbed, too caught up in the silliness of the world they live in.

I like kids. They're just about as close to the real thing of what humans are before they get all fucked up as adults.

I like candles. They represent the flicker of life, of hope.

I like plants, especially my first cactus, remember how I bought it more than a year ago and put it in office? It's so big now, you wouldn't recognise it. Whenever new leaves shoot out and grow, it's just so amazing.

I like music. I couldn't live without it.

I like umbrellas, because I collect them. Especially the hush puppies one you gave me. I use it all the time.

I like it when I'm sleep-deprived, or drowsy with medicine or just plain crazy. It makes me unnaturally happy and unable to remember just how unhappy I am.

I like doing maths because I'm good at it, because it's logical, it's within one's control, and it takes my mind off things.

I like exercising because I forget temporarily everything else, and I get a high after.

I like you because you like me. But it's all over.

last pics

My 2nd reading to the kids is this Tue, and these are the books. I forgot to shoot the first batch. I wanna do this 'pass the message' game as well, and identification worksheets. The theme is 'Communications'. And ironically, how with all the communication available today, yet, I still can't get through to him. He can't email, can't call, can't meet even in this tiny godamn fucking country. It's not that, is it. It's us. The only meaning I get.. is when the still innocent kids listen to my stories and smile at me. They know nothing as yet.. and that's the way it should be.


I just watched this.. Maggie's character says that junkies take drugs not because they are weak, but because they don't know how to live any other way. She takes a sales job and says how grim it is.. and her friend says, that's how most people live, and is it any better being a junkie? And she says, she doesn't know, she really doesn't know.


I like these books.. my style. My last buys in my last days as a Kino member.


I like his title song, Rainbow Heaven.