about this girl

about this girl...

" this reflection...i loathe this reflection...what do i loathe?...everything...i see imperfection...don't you?...don't you see it?...chubbiness...everything about me is chubby...no...don't you dare use the F word...the thought of it makes me sick...but i know i am...not beautiful...imperfect...just say it...say it...hideous!...i want to be perfect...anything less than perfect is revolting...disgusting...i hate people who are thin..and beautiful...i hate them...because they're perfect...they are...perfect...i wish i were like them...that would be perfect.."

intelligence. confidence. joyfulness. cheerfulness. wit. humour. wisdom. empathy. why would any of this matter when one only judges one self by the exterior...not matter how superficial...

how can this girl love herself...she sees only imperfection...and the many reasons why she doesn't deserve any happiness or love in this world...and never the many reasons why she does...

would you pity this girl...would you empathise with her...i do...i pity her...

fishy drama...

last week...to my absolute horror...i found ChiamST...my light greyish yellow guppy...resting his tails ever so often at the bottom of his 'tank'...i cajoled him to swim as he used to...to glide through the waters as effortlessly as before...but every stroke his little fins made seemed a tremendous effort too much my poor lil' Chiam to endure...he didn't even surface to feast on the fishy flakes i crush to little bits for their tiny fishy palette...

even TeoCH seemed concern...swimming close to ChiamST...as if willing him to go on...it seemed clear to both fish and i..that ChiamST's time was almost over...

i knew my heart was going to break into a million pieces...as i googled for what could be wrong...i found no answers...in a vain attempt...to keep me occupied as my work just seemed suddenly dull...bland...even unimportant...i decided to clean the 'tank'...I carried the tank..now empty of its residences that now temporarily swam in little bowls on my table... off its resting place...onto the trolley...and to the restroom...where the kind restroom keeper lady...helped me clean the 'tank's' contents...

i left that evening...my heart heavy... i was to be at alicia's wedding the whole day after..and wouldn't be around...lest the undesirable were to occur...

the next day...i woke early...as a jie-mei to alicia... i was at her place at the break of dawn...too occupied to think about anything else...but the bride...it was only later...while waiting at the groom's place...that flynn called...my heart almost stopped...thinking it was bad news about ChiamST...she asked about work...my heart pounded...anticipating the bad news....i waited...but nothing....i plucked up the courage...and asked...

'He's fine! He's been swimming happily all morning!'...

My brief moments of quite relief...were shortlived...as an amazing sense of euphoria sweeped over me!....

I had to tell Alicia...who cares if she's in the middle of the tea-ceremony...this is certainly more important....ChiamST's OK!

gombal

in the same way that some people walk into our lives to fill an empty void that you had grown so accustomed to that it goes hardly noticed...gombal's entry into our life revealed the voids that it now fills with happiness...smiles...and endless laughter...

the tale began some time ago when aisyah and i found 3 not-quite-abandoned kittens in my neighbours porch...mommy cat found our human presence a threat and decided to move the kittens to safety... worried, aisyah and i searched the drains on saturday...copying their tiny mews hoping to locate them and save them from the jaws of the dangerous mutts that roamed our estate...but to no avail...

our mews were overheard by a neighbour who came to the conclusion that our household was in search of some kittenish company...2 days later she appeared at our gate...holding a grey tabby kitten, in search of a home, in her arms... i couldn't turn the kitten away...instead we welcomed it into our home...

mum named her gombal...which is javanese for 'dish-rag'...but a dish-rag she isn't...my mum who hadn't ever been fond of cats has fallen in love with gombal...having found something/one else to dote upon now that her baby daughter-aisyah is 12 and hardly a baby anymore...

gombal walks by mum's side...sits by her...comes running whenever my mum calls...and even sleeps with her...we all may be envious of the special place she's claimed in mum's heart...but we all love her equally for she's brought so much cheer and happiness to our household...

oh...and after thinking that gombal was a she...a trip to the VET announced that gombal was NOT A SHE..but a HE....i still call him her...and call him 'girl' instead of 'boy'...it was silly but..according to the vet a forgiveable mistake on our part!

regardless...

we love her..no him....! we love HIM!

birth and death....

eulogy:

to my fishy- Min. Ng E.H.- its life with us may have been short-lived but it was a time of happiness and joy... i will miss watching you as you glide in the blue waters of the little oasis in our cubicle...no fishy will replace your beautiful red tail...your deligtfully coloured fins...the wonderful gleam of your scales in the sun...your absence will not go un-noticed...may you find happiness in the after-fishy-life...

my fishy died... We suspect that Min. Ng E.H. was murdered. We came into the office to find its tail ravaged. We suspect it was the work of the two yellow fishies- Maliki and Min. Vivian. We've noticed how the two would go after the senior Min Ng. E.H. in the tank always going after its beautiful red tail. I suspect it was a crime of passion. Of jealousy. Of intrigue!

i was distraught...noticing my fishy at the bottom of the vase...i ran out of my cubicle as brave Flynn fished its lifeless form out of the vase and proceeded to flush it down to fishy heaven...

i was almost in tears...

on a different subject...it was Iman's birthday yesterday... we had a lovely dinner of chilly crab...and we sang a birthday song over dessert at windy clarke quay...our hands cupped over the wavering flame of the candle...as he closed his eyes and made a wish...i wonder what it was that he wished for...as he blew the candle out...i made my own wish...

for his life to always be filled with genuine and sincere love...for iman deserves all the happiness in the world...always...

it was a quietly celebrated birthday yesterday..just the way i like birthdays celebrated...

happy birthday sayang...

Fishy Business

Have been back in the office since last Friday. Work's been mad. Lahore was mad! One good day of sight-seeing which was followed by three consecutive work days filled with meetings from 9 in the morning to almost 9 at night. Crazy. So crazy that i came back with almost 90% of the cash i brought along for shopping. When i told Nana this she responded ,'You? You didn't shop?'. Right you are! But the trip was fun nonetheless. I made friends, and i got to see Lahore- albeit just a little of Lahore but it was good. Anyways, it seems as if I'm going to be visiting Lahore quite frequently in future. So all's good!

This week, operation fishy business kicked into first gear. The girls and I decided to christen our new office with a lovely fish habitat to add some cheer and much needed entertainment on days when work just gets the better of us all!

Phase ONE of Operation Fishy Business began yesterday with a lunch trip to IKEA where we bought ourself a beautiful vase and some lovely blue pebbles to go with it.

Phase TWO was conducted in the office's corner toilet. Three giggly girls fussing over a VERY heavy vase. We managed to clean it and fill it with water. Carried it with much difficulty back to the office. Naturally, I volunteered my strength and finess for this task but ended up pouring half the contents of the vase on my blouse!

Phase THREE was conducted at lunchtime this afternoon. We headed to Ghim Moh market for lunch and then to the fish-shop where we proceeded to choose some pretty guppies, fish-bowl greens and a turd-eater fish!

We initially wanted 4 fish- one for myself, one for Flynn, one for Ame and one for Poh Ling (who doesn't sit in our cubicle, but she is our beloved manager and hey! who's going to deny the woman who doesn't stop the endless nonsense that we get ourselves into during office hours!) BUT the lady at the shop said that 4 was an inauspicious number. So..it made all sense for me to suggest getting 8 to get maximum worth of the auspiciousness the fish would bring, but my suggestion was conveniently ignored as my 3 other colleagues quickly proceeded to choose another fish to complete the collection...

Phase FOUR, the final stage! We came back and introduced our fish to the fish bowl/vase! And they're swimming happily now.... see! ok ok..you can't really see the fish..but you get the idea! (that's Leo 'fishing, hahahahaha)

Oh and u know..i saw some cute terrapins. Flynn and I think they'll be good company in the office but everyone else disagreed. I'll do some internet research on terrapins and how to care for them before i moot the idea again!

Something else happened today to add to the excitement of the day...i was surprised by a visit by a most terrifying, gruesome, icky tiny black lizard! It popped out from behind my pc today! It there's one thing i detest, and am completely afraid off- ITS LIZARDS! I screamed and shouted and ran out of the cubicle...to my colleagues distress...everyone came round to see, but it had dissappeared. I've called our trusty office-superman (he's the man you call for everyting! Rashid that is)- he says he'll call the pest control people. Until then, i'm not going to be able to rest easy...

Lahore- A snippet...

I woke up to an aroma of spicy curries and freshly baked naan wafting up to the second floor, through the corridor, under our door and into our room, drawing us out of bed. I pulled the crumpled white sheets over my head willing myself to go back to sleep. I heard Poh Ling climb out of bed and then the sound of the shower running.

I buried my face in my pillow, smiling. It was all still hazy but I remembered him smiling. The warmth of his embrace enveloping me like a new born wrapped tight in fresh woolen blankets. A gentle sigh escaped under my breadth, wishing that it was more than a mere dream, reminiscing the sweet memory of a night of passion, still fresh in my mind.

“Hey, wake up!”

The hot water gushed out of the shower. Soothing, massaging. As I soaped myself, I thought about the journey. Nine or so hours spent on the plane and in transit. Hours I spent thinking about what lay ahead in Lahore, indulging on long day-dreams of him. How much I missed his smile, how the pillow was a poor substitute for his shoulders and how he would frown when I told him I watched ‘Walk the Line’ on the Kris flyer screen without him.

I reached for the towel and proceeded to dab myself dry. I made a mental checklist of the itinerary today. First breakfast, then sightseeing to Lahore Fort, the Shabadshi Masjeed, lunch, shopping and then the Wagha border.

I was excited. Pakistan had always been a destination I knew I was destined for. I can’t quite explain it but from the first instance I read South Asian history- the separation of 1971, the 3 wars of liberation and independence fought on this sub-continent, I had felt the strongest desire to see India, Pakistan and Bangladesh. A desire that runs deeper than that of a tourist wanting to enjoy exotic sights, it was a desire that signaled deeper linkages of fate and destiny.

All through breakfast, I thought about how I had already fulfilled my dream of breathing thick spicy Indian air, when I spent a month refurbishing a school in Ludhiana in Winter of 2004 and, a year later, building a school in the middle of lush Patiala fields. Now, in a completely different phase of my life, I was staying at the Pearl Continental Lahore. It was a far cry from the 3 bedroom house I shared with 19 other Singaporeans in Patiala, India. I was here on business, not for volunteer work. I was here for a mere 5 days and not 21 days. I had grown, but I had not grown out of my love for South Asia.

I stepped out of the doors of the hotel. The dusty roads of Lahore beckoned, inviting me to partake in its revelry…but not before I send him another sms…

lahore

"He who has not yet seen Lahore, has not been born!"

I'm looking forward to being reborn....

best friends

sonia celebrates her 27th year today

... i didn't get to celebrate her 17th, 18th, 19th, 20th, 21st, 22nd, 23rd, 24th, 25th, 26th and now 27th birthday with her...its just not quite the same when a person's not by your side...not an arm length's away...

so i can drop her an email...call her...chat with her over msn even...but its just not the same to be able to hug your best friend and tell her that you celebrate her existence in this world...because without her...your life just wouldn't have been the same...that she made you laugh that much harder...that she was the only one you could be honest with about your deepest darkest secrets...she was the only one you were sure wouldn't laugh when you shared your deepest desire...your wondrous dreams...

i remember when Sonia left for Sydney...11 years ago...it literally felt like my world fell apart...that i would never find someone else to laugh and share with the way i could with her...sometimes i look back and i laugh at my young naive self...but now i realise i was right all along... i never did find someone else to laugh and share with the way i could with her...

i look back over the last 11 years...distance has not allowed us to grow apart...we grew into individuals with different dreams, opinions and goals...but yet our friendship stayed the same. Every couple of years...when we meet...it feels like no time had lapsed in between...we always picked up where we left off...speedily catching up...so that we do not become victims of time and distance...but instead beneficiaries...

happy birthday son...remember the time we stalked the cast of Les Mis....remember the time we were U2....remember nightshade, miriabella...remember the Bafoons...remember Mersing...remember Sentosa and the paddle boats...remember the Exorcist...remember the rolling game...remember tequila night...remember LEX...remember...

i'll never forget the time past...and i look forward to the times ahead...

today i celebrate my best friend...may your life be filled with laughter, love and lots and lots and lots and lots of happiness...

confessions of 1 unmarried woman

the sushi conveyor belt. u have an almost endless variety of plates to pick from. u look at the first one that comes along. u pick it up. it looks good. ur enticed. but u keep wondering whether something better will come along. so u put it back. the next few plates are new. they're different. but they're not quite the same as that first one. they all pale in comparison. u turn back to look for that first plate you had let go. but its gone. u keep thinking. it'll come back. but it doesn't.

thank god. thank god. i don't have regrets like that.

i watched confessions of 300 unmarried men with iman last night. it was a play full of promise. but it was one of unfulfilled promises. ok. some. like the sushi 'sonnet' was ridiculously uninspiring. it was unoriginal. it was flat. it didn't surprise me. it didn't take my breadth away. it didn't feel like it even tried.

i liked the old man birdie episode, that was inspiring. three old men reflecting about their own lives through metaphors of their caged singing birds. the crazy horse episode was mildly funny. the boys in hot shorts with golden tassle tails attached were entertaining but not quite hilarious. i was tickled but not quite amused. the energy of the ensemble was rock bottom and the effort to raise it seemed so overwhelming that sometimes even i felt tired.

that said. i really liked benjamin ng- who in my opinion saved the entire production. He was likeable and his acting was effortless. His potrayal of a lowly educated Singaporean man in search of a bride willing to marry down was so raw that it felt honest. It was affront without being offensive. It made me laugh. It made me think.

and gay unmarried men's opinion was so under-represented. why? especially as it would have added a tinge of fun, a peppering of spice that the production desperately needed. not to over-sensationalise? to represent the real opinions of unmarried men. are straight men beginning to feel overlooked? is that why gay issues were touched on so lightly?

confesssions. i confess...i didn't think very much of it. there were moments where it felt intimate. it felt honest. but other times it just felt whiny and overplayed.

confessions. i confess.

iman. i think very much of. moments of intimacy. honesty. never whiny or overplayed.

valentine's

today i celebrate love...

There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness.
Friedrich Nietzsche (1844 - 1900), "On Reading and Writing

heartbreak

have you ever loved something or someone so much that the very thought of losing them can bring tears to your eyes? i have... and when i did lose that someone... it not only brought an unending stream of tears...but it also brought me to my knees...i was broken.

since then...i've distanced myself from heartbreak...i loved liberally but somehow always kept my distance...hiding behind rationality and pragmatism...so that every new relationship that ended was dealt with as little emotion as possible...

last night i realised that i haven't invested myself completely in a relationship in a long time...the last time i fell in love it was with someone that was so far away that it was easy to say...i loved...and i wanted so much for it to work out...but it was never meant to be anyways...it wouldn't have worked out anyways... it was good while it lasted... i was prepared from the very beginning for it to end...not in the fairy tale way i had imagined...but the way it actually did...

is there something completely wrong with me? how is it i can love someone...and yet at the same time say...but...but there's so many reasons why it won't work out... and you should be prepared for that...he's too far...he's too young...he's too...whatever...

also...what i've never thought about is whether anyone has ever loved me so much that the very thought of losing me could bring tears to his eyes...until last night...

i'm feeling unsettled....

i've kept my distance...to shield myself from heartbreak...but now i realise that while i do that... i'm turning into what i'm protecting myself from...i don't want to be the source of another's sadness...i can't be that person...

i won't.

first week of feb with dunga the dragon

i've had..all in all..a wonderful first week of february.

january ended beautifully... i made my way to mersing again with dunga the dragon who was absolutely wonderful company... of course..dunga's morning dragon cum ogre disposition could have frightened many away...yet i found it quite pleasant and looked forward to dunga's dreadly early morning grumpy spells...

i don't have a picture of dunga the dragon..but i do have a picture of leo the lion... who can be quite grumpy... but nothing beats dunga's dreadly disposition!...

if dunga was here...i'd squeeze dunga tight...kiss dunga all over...hug dunga like there's no tomorrow...

of course aunt nis the ever delightful host made everything that much more brighter and breezier... i love mersing..i'm dying to run back there...away from everything...

oh and of course...it's lunar new year...did i mention i love yu-sheng...i love to lo-hei..my personal best was 14 lo-heis during the 15 days... i don't think i'm going to break my record this year... only have had 4 yu-sheng's... the first one with ali and iman...boy was it a good one... and hey...if yesterday's yu-sheng was to be the last it would have been with ali and iman as well...nice...

oh and i just have to add another picture..of lil' marc...isn't he gorgeous...i can't wait to have my own....

its been a fabulous first week of february.....

a democratic choice- hamas

photo from AP reuters

democracy.

isn't it ironic? Pax Americana efforts towards democratization have resulted in an outcome everyone especially Bush was quite unprepared for. the palestinian electorate has voted into office a terrorist organisation. one that is certainly vehemently against the Israeli nation/state. the people want change, progress. and the ruling Fatah party-corrupt ridden- was not going to be the vehicle of their salvation. but would Fatah party be the lesser of two evils? perhaps for the non-Islamic world. those who still shudder at the image of a bearded, 'turban' wearing Muslim man with an arsenal of explosives strapped to his chest. but for the Palestinians, returning the Fatah party to power would mean the continuation of a corrupt regime. one that would not seek to improve their lives. the Hamas promises progress.

an opinion. now that the Hamas can engage in political discourse. within the mainstream. they would no longer need to engage in subversive acts of terror to deliver their point. naive opinion? i think so. ridden with idealism as well, i think. perhaps, in a different world. a world where the Hamas isn't immediately pushed into the corner to denounce terror. a world where bush and rice won't immediately threaten to cut aid to the Palestinians. a world where the Israelis along with the Western world does not immediately state that they will not negotiate with the Hamas. will the Hamas compromise their stands just to meet the demands of the Western world? will they signal their 'weakness' by toeing the line?

this obviously spells trouble for the middle east peace process. i'm not thrilled by the prospect of extended conflict in the gaza strip. the world needs peaceful progress. but hasn't this event brought to the fore, some wonderful observations? how the US dictates democracy, and in instances such as these- democratically elected parties are shunned, while in other cases non-democratically elected leaders are accepted. the neo-realists were right all along. weren't they?

democracy is best as long as the outcome is favourable to strategic interests...of who? the dominant global power...entrenched interests...the status quo?

democracy...bestows the right to the people to decide who best represents their interests...and this instance, whether you like it or not... the people have spoken...we can just sit back and watch as the drama unfolds...

lil' marc

big boss returned to Singapore for a visit last week. last i saw her was in LA just a couple of months ago. when life sung a different tune. both for me and for her. she hadn't had her lil' marc and i had him. now, she's the beaming mother and i am... well, me. i'm not unhappy. in fact, i've been enjoying content and satisfaction. after all, i have had my sorrow taken away by someone who has quickly established his importance in my life. but nothing could compare to the delight i noticed in big boss's eyes. she had been wishing for this for the longest time. and we all shared her happiness.

lil' marc was absolutely breath-taking. his little hands gripped my fingers tightly as i cradled him in my arms. he looked into my eyes enchantedly and started cooing away. as if i understood the tales he regaled. he chuckled and grinned. and in an instance i could not help but fall in love.

i delight in big boss's happiness. and i share in her pride. i wish her, big mark and lil' marc all the happiness in the world. for only when we share in each other's delights do we truly live.

never let me go

Yann Martell. he was losing hope and running out of money. he ended up in india with 500 usd in his pocket. a land he knew that the little amount he had would last him for months, perhaps years. he wrote the Man Booker Prize winner Life of Pi...

i've dreamt. of leaving everything behind. in pursuit of a dream. a hope no matter how distant. of immortality. of creating something greater than myself. something that will live on beyond my time here. leaving a mark in the pages of history that preserves a memory of quiet significance. a novel. a movement. a legacy...

this same feeling washes over me many times over. during the motorcycle diaries (che guevera). in my acquaintance with a Belarussian youth opposition leader. when reading Rushdie. Naipaul. LKY. Lahiri. even Austen...

this morning. i sat watching a group of young secondary schoolchildren jogging around their school. at the bus stop. holding a novel in one hand. my mood sombre. i noticed in them. youthful gaiety. innocence. rowdy enthusiasm. energy. vibrance. everything i am? no, was. years ago...

my breathing quickened. colour draining out of my face. my hands shook. pulling my novel towards my chest. i sighed...

time. increasingly less time. less time to dream. even lesser time to make them real. have i subverted my ideals for materialistic benefits of the modern world. have i become a devout follower of the religion of mass consumerism. unable to distinguish what is capitalistic imposed desires from what is innately human and true to myself? is there a difference? i don't even know anymore. all i know is that i've let go of many of my dreams and ideals that revolve around ethics, morality, human instincts of charity and righteousness, for materialistic 'necessities'. i can no longer fathom forsaking 'material stability' to pursue that which i feel most strongly for. the desire to pursue that which will fulfill my own humanity...

i clutched my novel closer. holding on to it as if it was a life bouy. ironic. it was Kazuo Ishiguro's 'Never Let Me Go'. a novel of quiet desperation...

insular paths, widening expectations

i volunteer with mclub's young minds club. conduct workshops for kids between 13-15 on issues like globalization, active citizenry, leadership and work with them on community service initiatives. yesterday, i conducted one of youth leadership for the (now) sec3s after months of just working with the (now) sec 2s. the Sec 3s are a smaller bunch and the quality of interaction is so much higher because of it. i've missed the banter and the intelligent discourse. so it was an especially amazing saturday afternoon. i could think of no better way of spending it.

.... my sec3s have grown. with some encouragement, their horizons have expanded. i notice how much more critically they think. the introspection that occurs when thinking about certain issues. of course, on the onset you still get them skimming the surface of issues, thinking locally rather than globally. but with some gentle prodding, i find them going beyond the obvious and looking deeper. asking more difficult questions. testing themselves and each other.

.... its a wonderful feeling to be part of this intellectual development, and in other components of our programmes to provide some impetus for their moral and personal growth as well. expectations have widened so much and we must continue to push our young to stray from insular paths. to walk outside the boundaries. to push their limits and yet at the same time keeping them rooted so that they continue to be grounded and not rise to a level of elitist alienation.

.... its not all about them. they push me to think harder. to feel deeper. to look at myself and my shortcomings. to criticise. constructively. to improve myself. tis a terribly enriching and satisfying experience...

an ol' entry

i came across an old journal. sometimes u look forwards so much in life that you forget to look back at your own past, and remember who you are. sometimes i forget what really matters. i'm thankful that i have memories recorded for my own reflection...

this was my entry on 24th February 2002:

i've had a very beautiful and perfect life. and although i am still very young and life may have many great hurdles ahead for me to cross, i should remember that, so far, i've had it very good.

i can't explain why i've become so sentimental lately. constantly evaluating the treasures i have, the beauty i've seen.

if anyone were to wonder about what thoughts constantly cross my mind, it is about my childhood. perhaps it is because i feel as if a chapter of my life will soon draw to a close and a new one will begin.

god has been exceptionally generous to me. he has left me on earth with the two most loving parents anyone could ever wish for. my parents have been my everything. i'm proud to say that i love them dearly and am so proud of them.

i wish to age as gracefully as my mother. to be as determined and spirited as my father and to enjoy the same love they possess for each other with my own true love. one of my greatest hopes is to have, just one, at least a son or daughter who will adore me, half as much as i adore them.

the other light of my life is Ewan. i think the both of us are inseparable. i feel so much pride and love for a baby brother, who i know, will always make me proud.

i'm nothing without thes people i love so much. they are a part of my living being. they are the lungs through which i breathe, they are the eyes though which i see, they are the heart through which i live.

it there was one thing to remember my life by, it would be the greatness of those i love and who have made everything complete.

lists

a snobbish introspection into the simple life. my list of thanks, wishes, hopes & dreams. decipher for yourself which are which:

a family that loves and supports me fully. friends that laugh with me. joes that offer me his clean white shirt to cry on. emails from LA asking me how i am. giggles in mersing. movies. alicia. my gombal snuggling up. iman. long walks. delicious crispy prata soaked in dhal. logical thinking. best friends that will cancel everything to be with me when i'm down. green crispy lettuce. babies. iman. hugs from caring souls who think me worthy of being their friend. a PhD. hammocks. long nights chatting. old boyfriends. bright yellow buddhist monk type pants. teh tarek. a great job with travel opportunities. iman. growing old with someone i love. coffee.
ben and jerry's. a pistachio green couch.

i'm feeling better.

happy birthday

today i dedicate to a person who made my world spin. he made me laugh. smile. giggle. taught me to love again. to hope for more than i thought the world could offer me.

he gave me a glimpse of what life can offer if we seek to venture beyond the depths we thought were explorable.

it was not meant to be. i understand.

thank u for helping me live again. thank u for seoul, sacheon, bangkok, sukothai, ayutthaya, chiangmai, chiangrai, boston, new york, niagara, washington, pittsburgh, chicago, sfo and la. thank u for the view from the empire state building. thank you for standing beneath the golden gate bridge with me. thank you for sharing my dreams and hopes and pushing me on.

even if it was for a brief moment. i'd choose to do it all over again with you.

jagiya, happy birthday. nel chigum chorom.

longing

today. i feel melancholy. i long for kalamazoo. the cold beckons. the sea of white snow flakes seem like a blanket of warmth. my heart aches for it.

jacqueline du pre's Cello Suite no.1 Prelude by Johann Sebastian Bach fills my being. the sorrow call of the cello enveloping me.

there is so much i miss. so much i long for. a touch. a look. a gaze. a smile. without warmth. i seek refuge in the winter cold.