O.K. I’m ok though unable to quite aptly describe how I feel these days, post-Friday. It sort of feels like something had broken (no, not my heart), like some magic had lost its spark. Perhaps, it’s the murder of my expectations that has left me without the courage to hope for more. Or, it could also be called acceptance. Things with him have pretty much gone back to normal. I’m not sure if I’m still in like anymore though I still have yet to muster up the courage to re-read that day’s reply. More to check how long he took to reply than to read the actual message. After all, I’m done analyzing, re-analyzing, over-analyzing and trying to read between the lines. I’m tired of it and there no longer is cause to do so. So to the 20-odd people who’d been here yesterday and the past weekend, I’m ok. Seriously. Just not back to normal. But I will be. In time to come. *I’ve got a craving for dips. How ah? who’s afraid of the clown? Your result for The Brutally Honest Personality Test… Clown- ESFP 53% Extraversion, 47% Intuition, 13% Thinking, 47% Judging Congratulations. You are the buffoon of society, the class clown, the general funny guy/gal. Your purpose on earth was to serve as entertainment for the rest of us sane ones. We’re laughing with you and at you. Some people would kill to be as funny as you. Other would rather just kill you. You’re spontaneous, fun-loving and optimistic. You’re all in all an idiot. You wanna know why? It’s because you would rather have fun than concentrate on your duties and obligations. You act before you think. You talk before you think. All in all, you don’t think that much at all. You did terribly at school, didn’t you? You were the class clown. Paid no respect to the teachers or to your fellow students. Paid no attention to your school work. And look where you are now… starting to regret your decisions? Get down to earth. Find a real job and start taking care of your responsibilities. Sure, people love you, but they don’t love you because they like you. They love you because you make them laugh. They love you because they can always look at you and say “Well, at least I did better off than him or her!” …but at least you�re funny, right? ***************** If you want to learn more about your personality type in a slightly less negative way, check out this. ***************** The other personality types are as follows… Loner - Introverted Sensing Feeling Perceiving Pushover - Introverted Sensing Feeling Judging Criminal - Introverted Sensing Thinking Perceiving Borefest - Introverted Sensing Thinking Judging Almost Perfect - Introverted iNtuitive Feeling Perceiving Freak - Introverted iNtuitive Feeling Judging Loser - Introverted iNtuitive Thinking Perceiving Crackpot - Introverted iNtuitive Thinking Judging Sap - Extraverted Sensing Feeling Judging Commander - Extraverted Sensing Thinking Perceiving Do Gooder - Extraverted Sensing Thinking Judging Scumbag - Extraverted iNtuitive Feeling Perceiving Busybody - Extraverted iNtuitive Feeling Judging Prick - Extraverted iNtuitive Thinking Perceiving Dictator - Extraverted iNtuitive Thinking Judging Take The Brutally Honest Personality Test at HelloQuizzy the daydreamer. Your result for The Perception Personality Image Test… NBPC - The Daydreamer Nature, Background, Big Picture, and Color You perceive the world with particular attention to nature. You focus on the hidden treasures of life (the background) and how that fits into the larger picture. You are also particularly drawn towards the colors around you. Because of the value you place on nature, you tend to find comfort in more subdued settings and find energy in solitude. You like to ponder ideas and imagine the many possibilities of your life without worrying about the details or specifics. You are in tune with all that is around you and understand your life as part of a larger whole. You are a down-to-earth person who enjoys going with the flow. The Perception Personality Types: Take The Perception Personality Image Test at HelloQuizzy getting over me getting over you. The Internet is the most wonderful invention ever. One can find lots of information the Internet; goodness knows how many essays/reports I’d written about the advantages and disadvantages of the Internet. But one thing I’d never touched on, is the propensity to share. The propensity of its users to share information. Like how I’d set about searching online for the quickest way to get over someone. While the methods offered were pretty much the same and probably written by the same few people; the fact that it appeared on so many other sites made a virtual space seem much more humane. In a world where strangers brush pass each other with no hesitation, the virtual space had turned strangers into comrades of the same pain. Reading other people’s sob stories, I felt better. No, not because of Schadenfreude. But because I was not in love and we never dated. This meant I wouldn’t go through the same pain they did; only a small fraction. Which also meant that the “half the taken to fall in love to get over him” theory wouldn’t work on me. My healing process would be faster and best of all, less painful. Not that I was in pain at any point. After all, I have a really low threshold for pain. =) Maybe 2 days is really what I need after all ~ I want to dance in the rain, with abandon and without care. Maybe one day, I just might. Hold your breath. Watch me. Sidetrack: There’s a “12 Lotus” interview on teewee. I’d just realized that Jem looks kinda like Royston Tan. Apa sia! rainbows. So after work this afternoon, I did something that I’d wanted to do ever since I’d started working here. Slipping my shades on, armed with a bottle of Heaven & Earth’s Osmanthus Tea, I made my way on foot to the Singapore Botanic Gardens. Along the way, as I trudged along the upgrade-in-progress sidewalk, the sun began its little game of peekaboo amid grayish clouds. As the white fluffs started to get lost among the thick and heavy, I prayed to the mystic powers above: “If you love me, please don’t let it rain” Sure enough, it didn’t. Ok, I lied. I did no such thing and it did rain on me later but I did get to the Botanic Gardens dry as hay. Picking up a map as I entered the floral-motifed gates, I slid into local tourist mode. I must say though, there really isn’t much to see in the Gardens. The only plant that I recognize there out of the innumerable greenery was the Canon ball Tree with its pretty pastel blooms and its cannonball fruits. My initial intention of heading to the Gardens on my own: Explore the Gardens While time away until 3pm when Aunt Edna’s 60th birthday tea party would start Sort out my thoughts and feelings; a little me time for peace and quiet so I could try to still that heart to be peaceful and quiet Somehow, I ended up curled on a bench under a generous foliage with a collection of Gabriel Marquez short stories. Not quite the lighthearted reading I needed though; the first 2 stories circled around the morbid topic of death. At approximately 3pm, the dark clouds had culminated to the point of rainfall. The foliage provided me with shelter from the raindrops that sent picnic-ers a scurry. It was then that I’d noticed this other girl on her own on a bench not too far away from mine. She sat there, with headphones to her ears calmly sketching on that book of hers. Of course, the shelter of greenery above her was far more expansive than mine. Not wanting to be outdone, I too remained on my seat until the raindrops started pattering with a vengeance. One that sent the both of us running for shelter; which was few and far between. Aunt Edna’s party was postponed until 4pm to give her guests who were stranded by the rain time to arrive. Barely warming my seat,  I left soon after for THE movie date with Gypsy and Jem. The rain fell thicker and heavier than before. The filmsy map I’d used to shelter my head soon turned to mush and I resorted to the trusty green shawl for a bit of protection. Slowly trudging along the winding and deserted paths, the rain seemed to wash away a bit of me. The part of me that was hung up over you. It was as if, with every step I took, with every fall of raindrop, it took away that bit of stinging that melted along with the rest of the rain and gathered into puddles that splashed at my every step. On the way home, I’d marveled on how nicely everything fell into place. It was as if I’d planned for you to buy the ticket for me so I could meet you yesterday so that today would be jam-packed with activities that I wouldn’t have time to mope about you. But I didn’t. Perhaps, this is what people call divine providence. But I’ve never been a believer. The movies sucked. But the company and the food was fantastic. It never occurred to me to count but I’m fairly sure that the jokes we cracked together this evening had us in tickles far more than the 2 movies combined brought us entertainment. Even Jemo was in his bestest behavior tonight; gallantly squishing in mud to collect our goodie bags and popcorn for us. His “Minah” impersonations kept Gypsy and I nicely entertained while we waited for the movie to start. Unlike our previous attempt at a picnic which resulted in unfinished food, I’d say our food was pretty nicely consumed this time around. Of course, there was the sweet gesture of the “Surrogate Frog Lover” from Gypsy when we met at PS for pre-picnic shopping. There was no kissing involved though I sure hope the next frog that comes along really does turn into a prince. =) All in all, a warrior weekend well-spent. With friends like these, who needs guys? No, I didn’t really mean that. As Gypsy and I waited for Jem to pick us up earlier this evening, we spotted a faint rainbow arching across the mildly sunny sky. I’d walked through the rain earlier in the afternoon. Perhaps, it were true as metaphorical as this sounds. After the rain, there will be a rainbow. Someday, I just might find a rainbow to call my own. A rainbow that would make weathering all that rain well worth it. Until that day comes, I’ll just have to hold on to the hope that rainfall is good; without rain, there can be no rainbow. So off to dreamland I go, to where rainbows lead. make it go. I never knew what to expect to feel when I’d finally turned on my phone. There were 2. One from the concerned and one from you. Relief washed over the insecurity and fear from before. Then the big boys came to play. Big boys with big guns. It was a mixture, a twinge of sourness that stung. Not quite unlike dousing salt on an open wound. Not by sadistic torture but knowingly doing so. Through the night, the radio made a mockery of me. Funny how the same love songs that used to soothe and lull me to sleep now made me toss and turn. Every melody openly twisting and rewinding the words from you. They were not unkind. You were not unkind. In fact, I cannot imagine anyone else letting anyone else as gently as what you’d done. But it was a sense of disappointment; something that could’ve been erased by what was not to be and cannot be, created by a conflict of my wants and what you did not want. In retrospect, signals probably were never mixed. It was all a matter of misinterpretation. There was no pain to be felt. I was never and am not in pain. Pain stems from loss and you can’t lose something that you never had. Everyone knows that. It was just a misplacement. I’d misplaced my heart temporarily; it was here with me all the time just like I’d never had yours; not that it was mine to have at any point. But I dislike this feeling. This sudden airiness somewhere inside and yet, the leaden heart. A pod full of songs; mostly serenading love. Love gained and love lost; none of which I belong. Even the instrumentals seem to pluck at everything that is remnants from yesterday. Tinkles from the piano and every tug on the violin strings pushes it all further in. Deep breaths. There was nothing to cry about; yet there was twice I had to fight it back. Because crying would mean it hit straight in the heart. Crying would make it real. Crying would mean that I am in pain but I am not. I refuse to be. Crying won’t make this go away. Make this go away. Make this go away so we can return to before. Before the my heart got in the way. coming clean I woke up this morning and tried to remember. Memorize this bittersweet feeling from your blissful ignorance. For 2 years, I looked at you but never really saw you. For 2 years, I heard you speak but never listened to you. For 2 years, you were simply you; we were 2 separate entities never meant to cross. I’d reasoned with myself time and again. Why did I have to see you, hear you, and feel for you when it was never meant to happen in the first place. This morning, I woke up with a mission and a deliberation. On the way home tonight, that same mission and deliberation both weighed and powered my thumb as I fought between the two. The mission won; deliberation defeated. The panicky recall at the last moment was too late and all is now lost. I’m going to sleep tonight with a mission accomplished. As I lay open and vulnerable, indulge my shutting down. I gave you an either or. But I have learnt that maybe I’m not brave enough to hear the truth. Because after sending out the truth with an open heart, I’ve realized that truth hurts. Even before it comes back to me. Being open and vulnerable hurts. Which is why, I’m doing both. Just being here now, hurts. You’ve been a great friend. We’ve had fun times. Perhaps this all is enough. I’ve betrayed the laws of friendship and you shouldn’t have had to bear the punishment with me. My selfish willfulness and the desire to be fair have brought us here. I never should have taken your choice and believed it, after all, you didn’t know what you would be getting yourself into. I’m sorry. And I do wish you all the best. at 7. Eyes drank in the rose-tinted pastel sky as evening light slowly ebbed. She wondered if she will find, that one thing that could fuel her through this lifetime and maybe the next. That, and when. Mundane tasks continue to claw out at her, as she willed her hands to move faster. Faster than the wheels in her mind could click. So time would make her forget just how much the mind craved to move. Dimsum Sundays My grandmoms from both sides of the family had been complaining that they hadn’t seen much of me of late. So this morning, Mdm Chong and I took my fat grandma out for a little bit of Dimsum. Amid steaming hot baskets of succulent hargows, siew mai, char siew buns, my fat grandma kept us up-to-date of the latest gossip in the family while tucking into her favorite roasted pork and other signature dishes of Crystal Jade. It’s always been most curious how my grandmoms lead such different lifestyles. While my fat grandma is doted on by her 3 offspring and is a connoisseur of foods in her own right, my paternal grandmom (skinny grandmom) lives under the tyrannical rule of her elder son; one who scrimps and saves and doesn’t hesitate to collect money from her over a packet of chicken rice he bought for her lunch. Widowed in her prime, she’d slogged for the most part of her life doing dishes and laundry to bring up her 3 children, her elderly years didn’t bring her respite even though her 3 kids have fully grown up. Her youngest, the one she doted on the most ended his life in his late thirties laving her bereaved. At the ripe old age of 84, life has not been kind to her; sending a barrage of diseases her way leaving her house-ridden, unable to leave the house. Whenever we visit, she’d always lament at her fate and tell us how she’s merely waiting for death to come for claim. Sometimes, I really do believe it to be so. A simple woman with very simple needs, she doesn’t deserve to be treated the way her life has treated her so far. My fat grandma on the other hand, never had to lift her hand to even rinse a washcloth until she’d married my grandpa. Even then, my grandpa would always take care of the household chores. He’d sweep and mop the floor, clean the home while all my grandmom had to do was make dinner and take care of the kids. Grandpa was the disciplinarian and the one who brought home the bacon. When grandpa passed away from lung cancer 5 years ago, my grandmom was devastated and fell into a spiral of depression. Thankfully she’s since walked out from her dark days and now devotes her time to volunteer work at the neighborhood elderly daycare center. My two grandmoms have shown me the 2 sides of having offspring. Like everything else, having kids is like a gamble of chance. Sure, you can teach your children the right way, the morally ethical way of living life. But who’s to say they will follow by your teachings when you are old and no longer financially able? This world is a mercenary one as the materialistic aspects of life continually outweigh the value of kinship. I wonder how many more other grandparents and parents out there, are being treated like my skinny grandma. Life is unfair and may be what we make of it that counts. But if the hands of fate is harsher than the niche we try to carve out for ourselves, what then, is the point of living? What is the point of casting a die knowing that wherever the wind blows, it will be a losing hand anyway? To harbor hope for a better tomorrow while having it smashed to smithereens at the end of today. As promised. So, VO and I swung by the Escape Launch Party at Marriott’s Pool Grill on Wednesday night. Although I haven’t been to that many parties, I’d say Escape’s was a pretty decent one though it’d be nice if food was more readily available. Don’t get me wrong; the canapes were yummy and the pumpkin soup served in shot glasses were simply divine. All that waiting for the gracious servers to come around can really drive a rumbling tum-tum bonkers. Other than that, the night was perfect weather for a pool party and it was good fun learning how to hobnob around and getting introduced to people in the industry. Much as I’m afraid of socializing, it’s starting to look pretty fun; as soon as I get over the issue about talking to mere strangers. Did I mention the goodie bag was fantastic? From the travel journal to the Burberry’s overnight tote. That’s one item I’m definitely toting along for future travels (to store all that extra shopping). Then it was back to Shaw for the movie screening of “The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor” with the Popcorn Terminator (more on that later). Honestly, the movie sucked. The Mummy isn’t really THE Mummy without Rachel Weiss. Further the plot wasn’t remotely interesting. I’m not quite sure what Glenn Ong meant when he said it made fun of the Chinese culture though I really couldn’t care less. I mean, it’s not like the Chinese were known to be saints. Afterall, they did come up with the idiom “五马分尸, had harems of women in their palaces along with other atrocities that I have no need to recount. Further, whatever they’d featured in the movie, others (Asian tv series/movies) had done to death already such as slavery which was purportedly true, killing others to feed their lecherous desire for women who were beautiful and attached etc). Ok, with the exception of 五马分尸 the part. In all, the film just didn’t deliver that kick that the earlier movies did. It was also during the movie that I was given a not-so-private showcase of the Popcorn Terminator’s appetite for popcorn. You had to give it to him; the guy polished off a bucket of mixed popcorn on his own. I’d post pictures but I’m afraid it may be too horrifying an image. All in all, a great way to cap off the mid-week. Digressing, I’m watching the Opening Ceremony for the BeiJing Olympics. And Li Jia Wei was the flagbearer for Singapore in an Olympic event hosted in China. I hope I’m not the only one who has a problem with this. Say it with me: Pfffffffft! I suppose the US of A has officially been demoted and PRC has just been “upgraded” to BFF status. That or, you can make the judgment call yourself. escape! Launch Party & PAssion Partners Night Updates tomorrow. After I receive the entire goodie bag items. Heh ~ where do the ghosts go? Update on the previous post: Have sort of made up with The Mother though I still want my alone time in Melbourne. Moving on, we were talking about the Hungry Ghost Month over lunch today. Been wondering about this for a couple of days now: If homeless ghosts “wander” the human realm, then do non-homeless ghosts return to the home they had in life? Protected: things that I cannot say to you This post is password protected. To view it please enter your password below: Password: pirouette with me. Enrapture. Was something that one read about from books. Movie reviews and most times, describes beauty that arrests one’s heart, soul and mind. Beauty that freezes all other thoughts and simply descends upon a person. Much like snow, enrapture is a fleeting moment that melts in the palm of your hand as soon as it falls to rest upon it. That was my Saturday evening with Gypsy at our very first Ballet Under the Stars. It would be far too much a cliche to say they moved like water. They soared through space illuminated in hues of fuschia, turquoise, honey yellows and red, their fluidity and dexterity further complemented by flowing skirts of satin. Under blue skies speckled by silky streaks of milky white as the cool evening breeze caressed our hair, accompanied by mere strangers with their bottles of wine, checkered picnics and appreciative applause, one couldn’t ask for more. We will be back next year. With our own picnic spread. 7. July though barely over, has been a month of farewells and reunions. We welcomed Grandma Jane home and sent off Chaoda Bro Marc then Gypsy came home and promptly organized a mini cheese party at her place the very same evening. Then, Nana left us a couple of weeks back and on Friday, the new designer came in. I’m sure she’s a nice person but its just not the same. Because shes not Nana. We had our first S&M meeting this morning. Our first in yonks and I didn’t bring in my candy because there’s no Nana around to muck around with in there. Lunch was quiet. Maybe everyone was tired since today was a Monday afterall. Or perhaps like me, everyone else didn’t know what to say, how to strike up an interesting conversation, how to engage her in a conversation. Yep, that about sums up my July. Maybe I should blog on a monthly basis. the bip-bop There is no one thing or thought More a feeling One that creeps up upon you Slowly and quietly Reaching into deep within The heart of being Gently pulls the face into a tiny smile A smile that grows A heartbeat that accelerates and slows down All at the same time. fly away. The bus ambled lazily through the Saturday afternoon traffic. The urban landscape gave way to somewhat homier urban homes, as the skyscape rolled into something familiar. A muted watercolor painting not unlike the ones of picturesque Langkawi. Ever since Monday, I’d had quite a bit of spare time in my hands. This new aimless, purposeless life has wound me back into that one question all over again. There’s got to be more to life than this mindless and never ending collection of papers, very expensive pieces of paper I might add. What lies beyond the paper chase? I don’t know what life should be like but I’m pretty sure its not meant to be like this; chasing papers (qualifications) then chasing more papers (currency). At least, not mine. The need to extract myself from all of this to re-something everything grows stronger. There’s got to be more to life than this. Need to break away. the first taste of freedom. How is it that one feel satiated and hunger at the same time, Have almost everything and yet own nothing, Hanker for freedom when it was out of reach, And crave for chains, After being set free? I feel without knowing exactly why. On my first day of freedom, all I felt was an emptiness that swiftly came to claim as the clock struck six. On my way home, I did something I haven’t done much in the past 2 years. I took my time in Borders and promptly bought my first fiction books in a very long time The latest from my favorite forensic thriller writer and the only male author whose works I will read last tango. My room bears remains of a battlefield. The classroom; the battle fought in negligee. At 4.15pm this afternoon, as we filed out of the classroom, noisily chattering about the mass slaughter that had been Network Management, I unofficially stopped being a student. People came to me several times today, asking what it felt like. I suppose they expected elation. But I felt none of it. This feeling so surreal, so vastly different from what we’d all imagined. First, it was the numbness. Numbness from the ordeal just gone past. Then, the lethargy that had drained the body and mind from any recesses. Then realization hit, and promptly knocked the wind out of me. As the people around me chattered about Thursday, bade each other farewell with “See you on Thursday”; I realized I wouldn’t be seeing them on Thursday anymore. Not this Thursday or the next nor the coming Fridays, Saturdays and Tuesdays. It’s an emptiness, a hollowness that I cannot describe. As we soaked up each other’s company for the rest of the afternoon, all is forgotten until I return to the quiet solace of the way home and eventually, my room. A sort of jerk back into reality. I will miss the camaraderie. I will miss the laughter. But most of all, I will miss just being in the presence of all of you. Each and every single one that had made the past two years such an adventure, a roller coaster of laughter and discovery. Thank you for making my University life so much fun, even though ours was barren of school activities and all other frills that usually came with full-time tertiary education. Our last tango. the final countdown. Its 12.42 p.m. now, Sunday as I’m typing this out. In less than 28 hours, my stint as a part-time student will end. There’s a heaviness in my heart, a gloom that has finally descended after months of denial, covering up. In less than 28 hours, after everyone walks out of the exam hall, I would have faded into the background; joined the ranks of those who have come and gone as they will be too, when the time comes. Exams these 2 years have always been something I’d dreaded and yet, anticipated. While the days leading up to the actual exam itself were always painful, the post-exam lunches that we’d have always made the hard work seem worthwhile. Despite the grandmother of whippings we’d had after yesterday’s MR paper, the bunch of us settled into a booth at Subway giggling, roaring with laughter as we bitched (yes, as always) and poked fun at the lesser people we’d come across in class. The final countdown has begun. As much as I do not want this to end, it has to. For more reasons than one. As for you, I wonder where this will lead. damages. Today I discovered the reason for my infatuation with you. For as much as I am damaged, you are not. Irony The paradox of our time in history is that we have taller buildings but shorter tempers; wider freeways, but narrower viewpoints. We spend more, but have less; we buy more, but enjoy less. We have bigger houses and smaller families; more conveniences, but less time. We have more degrees but less sense; more knowledge, but less judgment; more experts, yet more problems; more medicine, but less wellness. We drink too much, smoke too much, spend too recklessly, laugh too little, drive too fast, get too angry, stay up too late, get up too tired, read too little, watch TV too much, and pray too seldom. We have multiplied our possessions, but reduced our values. We talk too much, love too seldom, and hate too often. We’ve learned how to make a living, but not a life. We’ve added years to life not life to years. We’ve been all the way to the moon and back, but have trouble crossing the street to meet a new neighbor. We conquered outer space but not inner space. We’ve done larger things, but not better things. We’ve cleaned up the air, but polluted the soul. We’ve conquered the atom, but not our prejudice. We write more, but learn less. We plan more, but accomplish less. We’ve learned to rush, but not to wait. We build more computers to hold more information, to produce more copies than ever, but we communicate less and less. These are the times of fast foods and slow digestion; big men and small character; steep profits and shallow relationships. These are the days of two incomes but more divorce; fancier houses but broken homes. These are days of quick trips, disposable diapers, throwaway morality, one night stands, overweight bodies, and pills that do everything from cheer, to quiet, to kill. It is a time when there is much in the showroom window and nothing in the stockroom. A time when technology can bring this letter to you, and a time when you can choose either to share this insight, or to just hit delete. Remember, spend some time with your loved ones, because they are not going to be around forever. Remember to say a kind word to someone who looks up to you in awe, because that little person soon will grow up and leave your side. Remember to give a warm hug to the one next to you, because that is the only treasure you can give with your heart and it doesn’t cost a cent. Remember to say “I love you” to your partner and your loved ones, but most of all mean it. A kiss and an embrace will mend hurt when it comes from deep inside of you. Remember to hold hands and cherish the moment for someday that person will not be there again. Give time to love, give time to speak, and give time to share the precious thoughts in your mind. AND ALWAYS REMEMBER: Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away. Its such an irony that the composition of ironies was written by a man who’d gotten himself embroiled in this mess. Whether or not he was innocent is entirely a different matter. But no matter, those words ring true and I wish I can live my life as he’d penned. A reflection that is less inspiring than an honest awakening. P/S: I came across it from Michy’s. P/P/S: I’ve gt a mad craving for Nonya 9-layered kueh thing. P/P/P/S: It’s the red river talking. shades. The bus weaved through the evening city traffic. The pebbled sky shimmered in the setting highlights of the dipping sun. As the golden beams shone through the foamy folds and cast the road in a honey-like warmth, shades formally perched atop the head resettled on the bridge of nose. She wondered then, if the jealous nature of Mankind made it intolerant to nature’s beauty. For all the dedication to capture the most magnificent sunrise and sunsets, Mankind couldn’t withstand the blinding, glaring beauty of the very object they endeavored to capture. MRT Rules I love this. So true and so funny. 1. homeostasis. the single word bouncing off the walls of the single grey matter that is my brain. complete. I was just going through the pictures I posted on Friendster and Facebook. And it occurred to me, that my life is just about complete. There’s almost nothing more I can ask for, with all whom I have around me. That includes you. message from the mystics Friendster Horoscope for May 30, 2008 Gemini (May 21 - Jun 21)[?] The Bottom Line Your hopes and wishes can’t force someone to act today. You just have to wait more. In Detail Timing is everything when it comes to any kind of relationship — so you need to stop trying to rush things! Whether you’re eager to hear about a job prospect, dying for the cutie to call, or impatient about when your sweetie will propose, you have to realize that you don’t have any influence in this situation. Your hopes and wishes, no matter how strong they are, cannot force someone to do something that they don’t want to do or aren’t ready to do. Relax and focus on something else. 23. As we walked to PS Cafe for dinner tonight, Gypsy asked me how it felt like to be 23. My answer to her then- “just what it felt like to be 22“; which can’t really be further from the truth considering the fact that nothing in the world changes except that one has chalked up one more year of live in this world we live in. As the bus ambled along the glittery darkness that is Orchard Road on a Thursday night, I couldn’t help but change my mind. 23 feels different from 22. Because 23, I’ve realized feels like blessings. So as the clock strikes 12 tonight and the magic dust of birthdays fade into nothingness, I would like to count and remember all the blessings from being 23. The thought that counts, which will be reason enough to pummel DoReMiFaSo to infinity The surprise from The Happy People Call from a friend whom I’ve never met An afternoon of laughter, good food and balloons with the team at work Scribbles on a virtual wall Team-mates who feel like family A late night message that transcends space A call across the seas full of LOVE A fulfilling and honest dinner with the sweet and thoughtful one A last minute birthday song carried over the Net Last but not least, a mother’s love that cannot be replaced. 23 will be a year of blessings, more blessings than it has started with. Thank you all, for the love and keeping me in your hearts. If I had to give up that very one thing right now, I would know it’d be worth it for all the love that envelopes me, will be more than enough to heal the wounds. P.S. I almost peed in my pants on the way home. almost. 23. 23 in 40 minutes. It’s amazing how one goes to sleep and wakes up a whole year older. A year older but none the wiser. I can’t say I’m a lot wiser now than I was this time last year but I know I have grown. It seems, 23 will be where this life I’ve lived in starts getting lived in. And I wish in 2 days, someone else’s life will also start looking up for the better when her clock strikes twelve. I love you, love. candles aglow. A darkened room. The clueless and oblivious girl stepped in, pondering why the rest had not turned on the lights. No sooner had she uttered her thoughts, she noticed a dim, warm glow that enveloped the tiny space. A mix of singing and clapping exploded from the silence and she finally caught on. Much thanks for the lovely surprise. Most appreciated and definitely most loved.