While working today, I glanced at the calendar and realised: it's the 8th of August, or "Ba-ba Day" (Father's Day).
For a moment, I remembered what I used to do since my childhood, but stopped doing three years ago. I used to write to dad every year. Little cards, little messages telling him how much I appreciate him, how much I appreciate his presence in my life. Little cards, little messages that told him I care about his wellbeing, and that I love him for all that he has done, for all the sacrifices he has made throughout the years.
Then, I could not control my tears. I could not control the sudden sadness that welled up within me...
I looked back, and saw a beautiful text I found online a couple of years ago. I read it again, and was overwhelmed that dad is no longer around, saddened I cannot give him the love and care I have received from him in so many ways.
I miss you still very deeply, dad...
I really do.
(Afscheid nemen bestaat niet...)
"Come as the wind that you feel, and the rain,
Follow what you do as the light of the moon,
Find me in everything then you will come across me.
Whisper my name,
And I will be there...
See, what is invisible,
What you believe is true,
Just open your eyes,
And I will be with you.
All you have to do
Is believe my word
...Bidding farewell does not exist.
Look in the sky,
Look to the sea,
Wherever you shall walk, yes, I walk with you.
Every step and every moment,
Wherever you may be!"
08 August 2011
Picture and a thousand words
Take a look at the picture... Three children in the foreground, smiling, carrying roses they are trying to sell.
One child, a girl, has a closed smile, yet her face looks peaceful, calm almost. Another child has a smile revealing all her teeth, a genuine smile. Perhaps excitement at having her picture taken by a stranger with a fancy camera. They are walking dangerously on the narrow strip right on the traffic island. What is on their mind at such a tender age? Are they hungry, are they bemoaning what terrible conditions life has given them? Or are they just living from moment to the next, trying to earn their next meal by being exposed to the dangers of the traffic, the soot, the heat and the absence of a childhood of play and being care-free?
A flashy white car zooms past without stopping. Perhaps the driver and the passengers did not even blink at the children, because there are far too many of them to care. Or perhaps the hearts of those inside car, for a split moment just before their minds become again reabsorbed by the mundaneness of their daily life and routine, were so pained by what they saw, by the sense of hopelessness and powerlessness they felt at being unable to change what they see...
It is a very simple picture, yet underneath is the description that in parts of India, people survive on three times less than the global poverty according to the World Bank.
A picture can paint more than a thousand words. It can capture the life of others that we so easily forget. It can capture the suffering, bliss, pain and joy of others and remind us what simple joy there is to be had, lest we forget, or remind us of what real suffering means, also lest we forget...
One child, a girl, has a closed smile, yet her face looks peaceful, calm almost. Another child has a smile revealing all her teeth, a genuine smile. Perhaps excitement at having her picture taken by a stranger with a fancy camera. They are walking dangerously on the narrow strip right on the traffic island. What is on their mind at such a tender age? Are they hungry, are they bemoaning what terrible conditions life has given them? Or are they just living from moment to the next, trying to earn their next meal by being exposed to the dangers of the traffic, the soot, the heat and the absence of a childhood of play and being care-free?
A flashy white car zooms past without stopping. Perhaps the driver and the passengers did not even blink at the children, because there are far too many of them to care. Or perhaps the hearts of those inside car, for a split moment just before their minds become again reabsorbed by the mundaneness of their daily life and routine, were so pained by what they saw, by the sense of hopelessness and powerlessness they felt at being unable to change what they see...
It is a very simple picture, yet underneath is the description that in parts of India, people survive on three times less than the global poverty according to the World Bank.
A picture can paint more than a thousand words. It can capture the life of others that we so easily forget. It can capture the suffering, bliss, pain and joy of others and remind us what simple joy there is to be had, lest we forget, or remind us of what real suffering means, also lest we forget...
07 August 2011
The day after
After the long talks over the past two days, my friend and I (together with another friend) went on a long bike ride. Biking is like our therapy. As usual, when we are on our bikes, there is this free, (and as he put it) "unpressured" feeling. That freedom comes from having the wind, the speed, the open air (and late in the afternoon insects flying) on your face. At times we would race one another, go for speed down a stretch of open road, play a game where he chases me, or I chase him.
But the best is when we are biking next to one another, chit-chatting, giving one another little pokes here and there ( something 'fun' that we have come to do to each other). Then we are going at the same speed, in the same direction, and it is beautiful to turn to him and smile, and see that he is also smiling back at you. That is genuine happiness, unfettered, real and warming, however shortlived it may be.
Arriving home last night, it felt somewhat empty and quiet, and that feeling would only grow as the night wore on. After spending almost every single day of the past week with my friend, last night was one of the few nights I spent by myself. For a moment, I was unsure what I should do... then I decided to study a bit, and meditate before retiring to bed. Though I fell asleep quickly, I woke up many times during the night, all sweaty and disturbed by images, persons, events that have been revealed to me over the past few days...
There is a heavy, guilty conscience weighing down on my mind... For the first time, my friend described in detail how wonderful it was to have met the boy he met back at the end of November, and how quickly a romance developed. But I came in the way, I broke off something that was budding and never had a chance to bloom. It was cruel, selfish, and it was wrong, but I did that... Now everyone is hurting, everyone is unhappy, and nobody has anything... In the end, I come home, and there is this emptiness that grows and grows inside which I have difficulty getting rid of, and which I can no longer just pick up the phone and ask my friend to talk or spend time with me.
I must be strong again... must learn to be alone, and detach from the (over)dependance and reliance on my friend for happiness and for comfort. I must again build up my life, as I promised myself to do earlier.
But the best is when we are biking next to one another, chit-chatting, giving one another little pokes here and there ( something 'fun' that we have come to do to each other). Then we are going at the same speed, in the same direction, and it is beautiful to turn to him and smile, and see that he is also smiling back at you. That is genuine happiness, unfettered, real and warming, however shortlived it may be.
Arriving home last night, it felt somewhat empty and quiet, and that feeling would only grow as the night wore on. After spending almost every single day of the past week with my friend, last night was one of the few nights I spent by myself. For a moment, I was unsure what I should do... then I decided to study a bit, and meditate before retiring to bed. Though I fell asleep quickly, I woke up many times during the night, all sweaty and disturbed by images, persons, events that have been revealed to me over the past few days...
There is a heavy, guilty conscience weighing down on my mind... For the first time, my friend described in detail how wonderful it was to have met the boy he met back at the end of November, and how quickly a romance developed. But I came in the way, I broke off something that was budding and never had a chance to bloom. It was cruel, selfish, and it was wrong, but I did that... Now everyone is hurting, everyone is unhappy, and nobody has anything... In the end, I come home, and there is this emptiness that grows and grows inside which I have difficulty getting rid of, and which I can no longer just pick up the phone and ask my friend to talk or spend time with me.
I must be strong again... must learn to be alone, and detach from the (over)dependance and reliance on my friend for happiness and for comfort. I must again build up my life, as I promised myself to do earlier.
06 August 2011
Everybody hurts
Everybody hurts
All the things unsaid, all the feelings unexpressed. All the hurt behind smiles, all the tears locked behind the grins.
Why are we torturing ourselves, and one another, over the past, over what cannot be undone, cannot be unsaid? Feelings that stubbornly will not subside... Sense of guilt and responsibility, attachment and that make it all so complicated. Or do we make it all complicated? It is perhaps what we do best.
There was such beauty in our relationship, between my friend and i, there was such seemingly boundless opportunities to grow and develop together... But there too was something beautiful in a parallel love that was just beginning to develop. One bloomed, but one was still in the bud, waiting, ever waiting and ever curious to blossom, sheltered from the elements that would let it all flower. And everything just came crashing, tumbling down. In the end there is nothing. No one has anything. Nothing. Nothing.
No one person is to blame, but no one is wholly clean and innocent. I know I have hurt people, I know I have held back and hurt my friend, turned him away when he wanted me most. And perhaps the confusion, the pain is the punishment, and hence the tears, the incessant flow of tears...
All the things unsaid, all the pain hidden and tightly kept. In the end, everybody hurts, inside.
All the things unsaid, all the feelings unexpressed. All the hurt behind smiles, all the tears locked behind the grins.
Why are we torturing ourselves, and one another, over the past, over what cannot be undone, cannot be unsaid? Feelings that stubbornly will not subside... Sense of guilt and responsibility, attachment and that make it all so complicated. Or do we make it all complicated? It is perhaps what we do best.
There was such beauty in our relationship, between my friend and i, there was such seemingly boundless opportunities to grow and develop together... But there too was something beautiful in a parallel love that was just beginning to develop. One bloomed, but one was still in the bud, waiting, ever waiting and ever curious to blossom, sheltered from the elements that would let it all flower. And everything just came crashing, tumbling down. In the end there is nothing. No one has anything. Nothing. Nothing.
No one person is to blame, but no one is wholly clean and innocent. I know I have hurt people, I know I have held back and hurt my friend, turned him away when he wanted me most. And perhaps the confusion, the pain is the punishment, and hence the tears, the incessant flow of tears...
All the things unsaid, all the pain hidden and tightly kept. In the end, everybody hurts, inside.
...back in Europe
When I spoke to mum a few days ago, she expressed to me how much she missed home. She was sparing in the details, but I could detect that she was no happy staying with my brother.
Today I called, and it was my brother who picked up the phone. After a bit of small talk, he out of nowhere asked me what was wrong with mum.
I was surprised. How am I supposed to know, especially as I've not seen her or been living with her for the last three weeks or so. My brother said she has been staying in her room, only coming out if necessary, and she stays out of the house, has her meals out, and does not seem to interact much with them.
How disappointed I was to hear that, especially I had hopes that mum could spend some quality time bonding with my brother and my sister-in-law. Yet, somehow relations seem to have soured, and brother does not know why. And I don't know why either, though I can suspect a few reasons why...
Even before going over to Europe, mum had already expressed reservations about staying long with them in their home. Last year, during a visit to my brother's, things completely broke down, because mum felt very unwelcome there. A lot of it comes down to money, and she was made to feel as if her presence was a financial burden on him. I can only suspect that this is perhaps the same issue, the same dead horse that has been revived and is being beaten again this time around.
I told him please just go and see what is wrong, if anything. What is the reason behind her silence? What is the reason for her being out all day and not wanting to be home? Talk to her, I said, open up to her, express your feelings, let her express her feelings and frustrations, if there are indeed any.
"Treasure the moments you have together," I advised him, especially as there are now only two days left till she leaves. "We don't know if she will come visit again," I said. And I think he understood what that meant, or is meant to mean.
I did not manage to speak to mum on this occasion, even though it was only a little past nine in the evening. Brother had no idea what she was doing, only that she was in her room. As soon as I hung up the phone, I wondered to myself how it had come to this. How can mum feel so estranged, so alienated about staying with my brother and my sister-in-law? I know mum can perhaps be a difficult person, and especially after her illness her temper has changed. She has become depressed, perhaps forlorn, and I can imagine perhaps very scared and confused about her condition, about abandonment and dying... Perhaps with brother and his wife, she feels like she has no longer a role to play, for that has been substituted. And perhaps, having spent time with me, and now with brother, she feels or realises that she really does not belong any where, that she cannot go and just live with either of her sons. None of this, if anything of this is really what she is feeling or thinking, is good for her health or state of mind.
These are just what I imagine may be going through her mind... the fears, the disappointments, the realisations of a mother visiting a child who has built up his own home.
I wish I could speak to mum more, in person, and understand what has been troubling her. Of course, there is very little I can do, for I do not fully understand what has made her turn inwards and (as brother put it) hide herself in her room a lot. I just wish that with the two days remaining, she will come out, and interact more with brother and his wife, and that mum can go home with good memories of her time together with them.
Today I called, and it was my brother who picked up the phone. After a bit of small talk, he out of nowhere asked me what was wrong with mum.
I was surprised. How am I supposed to know, especially as I've not seen her or been living with her for the last three weeks or so. My brother said she has been staying in her room, only coming out if necessary, and she stays out of the house, has her meals out, and does not seem to interact much with them.
How disappointed I was to hear that, especially I had hopes that mum could spend some quality time bonding with my brother and my sister-in-law. Yet, somehow relations seem to have soured, and brother does not know why. And I don't know why either, though I can suspect a few reasons why...
Even before going over to Europe, mum had already expressed reservations about staying long with them in their home. Last year, during a visit to my brother's, things completely broke down, because mum felt very unwelcome there. A lot of it comes down to money, and she was made to feel as if her presence was a financial burden on him. I can only suspect that this is perhaps the same issue, the same dead horse that has been revived and is being beaten again this time around.
I told him please just go and see what is wrong, if anything. What is the reason behind her silence? What is the reason for her being out all day and not wanting to be home? Talk to her, I said, open up to her, express your feelings, let her express her feelings and frustrations, if there are indeed any.
"Treasure the moments you have together," I advised him, especially as there are now only two days left till she leaves. "We don't know if she will come visit again," I said. And I think he understood what that meant, or is meant to mean.
I did not manage to speak to mum on this occasion, even though it was only a little past nine in the evening. Brother had no idea what she was doing, only that she was in her room. As soon as I hung up the phone, I wondered to myself how it had come to this. How can mum feel so estranged, so alienated about staying with my brother and my sister-in-law? I know mum can perhaps be a difficult person, and especially after her illness her temper has changed. She has become depressed, perhaps forlorn, and I can imagine perhaps very scared and confused about her condition, about abandonment and dying... Perhaps with brother and his wife, she feels like she has no longer a role to play, for that has been substituted. And perhaps, having spent time with me, and now with brother, she feels or realises that she really does not belong any where, that she cannot go and just live with either of her sons. None of this, if anything of this is really what she is feeling or thinking, is good for her health or state of mind.
These are just what I imagine may be going through her mind... the fears, the disappointments, the realisations of a mother visiting a child who has built up his own home.
I wish I could speak to mum more, in person, and understand what has been troubling her. Of course, there is very little I can do, for I do not fully understand what has made her turn inwards and (as brother put it) hide herself in her room a lot. I just wish that with the two days remaining, she will come out, and interact more with brother and his wife, and that mum can go home with good memories of her time together with them.
04 August 2011
Talk
It was never a going to be an easy conversation, we both knew it. We have both been dragging our feet and not wanting to face it. Perhaps we feared the conversation may lead to the end of things... The end of all the comfortable and familiar relationship we have grown into over the last two years. Or perhaps we feared things were going to change fundamental between us, and perhaps neither is not willing to let go yet, just yet.
But talk we did today, after sleeping next to one another. It began over breakfast... He made a comment about how at one point in time I had said that I could imagine myself staying at home while my partner goes out to work to support the household. Yes, I did say that, but I think it was jesteringly, as a joke, for I never have really imagined myself doing nothing and just sitting at home like a house"wife" waiting for the "man" to return from work. Even so, that flippant remark and attempt at a joke triggered alarm bells on my friend's side back at the end of April, and together with compilations we have had since the start of our relationship, things just went downhill till our eventual breakup.
I was surprised to hear and know that what I blurted out had affected his opinion of me, and of our possible future together, so much. But deep down, I knew it was true. To the outside world, the last two, three years I have really slowed down. My life, my hopes and dreams seem to have ground to a halt. I live from day to day, without much purpose it seems, eating, sleeping, defecating, and occasionally reading and blogging, and traveling. But what can I really say I have accomplished? career-wise, I am lost. Academically, I am stuck in a grove trying to dig myself and find my way out. What have I really done that I can be proud of...?
I feel it myself, I feel the energy levels, the enthusiasm for life, for work, for happy, for exploring and discovering things has somehow just escaped me. Where was that hardworking boy I once knew who had such fascination for life and for the pains and struggles and injustices of this world? Where did that all go?
It is all to easy, I know, to point to what has been troubling me and weighed me down. Dad's death, loss of dear friends, the cancer of having to deal with mum's recurring illness and the uncertainties of mum's condition... The looming spectre of loss, and being alone in the world when mum takes her final farewell... It is all a lot to take... But is it all a "good enough excuse" to slow down, to grind to a halt and be an underachiever...?I ask myself, torment myself and kick myself when I look back and see how little I have accomplished. Little did I know it would be a reason why my friend broke off our relationship...
I want to pick myself up again... I want to live, with passion, work with determination and eager. To discover, to achieve, to strive and to live! I want that more than anything now...
My friend then said that after all the complications of the past couple of months, he is lost and confused as to what he wants (as am I). Why is he so attached to the boy he met, why is he not willing to let that go yet? I cannot understand, and perhaps he cannot either. I probably can not give my friend what he received from the other person in the short period of time they were together. And he cannot know now, because I broke apart that chance, I soured that opportunity, and it will take time to uncover, or perhaps bury, that couriosity or even fascination of being and getting to know someone new and exciting.
But at least now I understand more... about his hesitations towards "us", because of our complicated past, about the resentment he felt toward me for suddenly turning around and breaking apart a relationship that was budding back in December with the boy he met and dated... I understood more why we are broken apart ... I have been perhaps too clingy, too needy, and for my friend who had just come out of a long term relationship, that was too much to handle. However much he cares for me (or loves me?), he cannot at this moment enter another relationship and commit.
So we are in the situation where we are now... not quite lovers, but not just friends... not just friends with "special benefits", but not quite two people who are in a committed relationship with one another. I failed to declare my feelings for him at the time when he was chasing after me with such passion and vigour, and how insensitive it was to suddenly turn around and want to be with him at a time when he was just getting over me after my rejections over the course of two years. Nobody is at fault, but nobody is completely guiltless either...
We have had many conversations, many teary nights how we ended up where we are... Where are we headed? Neither of us is sure. Are we going to be together, in a loving, strong relationship where there is no doubt, no questions, just commitment and wanting one another? We do not know, I do not know. I can foresee it happening... He said he can foresee it happening too. But now is not the time... Despite the comfort of being in one another's arms, despite the special feeling of feeling the warmth of one another's hand, despite the woozy feeling of smelling each other's body and lying next to one another, despite the deep heart-to-heart conversations and flippant remarks and insider jokes we can play on one another, now is not the time to be together. If that time will come, or when that time will ever come, nobody knows... Nobody knows... Perhaps our fate is only so much, our connection is only so deep, only so lasting, but not ever lasting.
But it is the way it is, things are the way they are, feelings are the way they are. It is as I suspected and guessed, but it was good to have it confirmed after our deep heart-to-heart talk to uncover our feelings for one another. What more can you want? What more can I ask?
For now, he is the only person in the world who has been able to touch me, move me, and sway me off my feet. We will always be special to one another... always have those beautiful, beautiful memories together that no one can ever take away... Love developed between us, slowly (and perhaps haltingly). That love was jeopardised, that love may have subsided and waned, but the friendship remains...
We are, and always have been, friends first and foremost.
But talk we did today, after sleeping next to one another. It began over breakfast... He made a comment about how at one point in time I had said that I could imagine myself staying at home while my partner goes out to work to support the household. Yes, I did say that, but I think it was jesteringly, as a joke, for I never have really imagined myself doing nothing and just sitting at home like a house"wife" waiting for the "man" to return from work. Even so, that flippant remark and attempt at a joke triggered alarm bells on my friend's side back at the end of April, and together with compilations we have had since the start of our relationship, things just went downhill till our eventual breakup.
I was surprised to hear and know that what I blurted out had affected his opinion of me, and of our possible future together, so much. But deep down, I knew it was true. To the outside world, the last two, three years I have really slowed down. My life, my hopes and dreams seem to have ground to a halt. I live from day to day, without much purpose it seems, eating, sleeping, defecating, and occasionally reading and blogging, and traveling. But what can I really say I have accomplished? career-wise, I am lost. Academically, I am stuck in a grove trying to dig myself and find my way out. What have I really done that I can be proud of...?
I feel it myself, I feel the energy levels, the enthusiasm for life, for work, for happy, for exploring and discovering things has somehow just escaped me. Where was that hardworking boy I once knew who had such fascination for life and for the pains and struggles and injustices of this world? Where did that all go?
It is all to easy, I know, to point to what has been troubling me and weighed me down. Dad's death, loss of dear friends, the cancer of having to deal with mum's recurring illness and the uncertainties of mum's condition... The looming spectre of loss, and being alone in the world when mum takes her final farewell... It is all a lot to take... But is it all a "good enough excuse" to slow down, to grind to a halt and be an underachiever...?I ask myself, torment myself and kick myself when I look back and see how little I have accomplished. Little did I know it would be a reason why my friend broke off our relationship...
I want to pick myself up again... I want to live, with passion, work with determination and eager. To discover, to achieve, to strive and to live! I want that more than anything now...
My friend then said that after all the complications of the past couple of months, he is lost and confused as to what he wants (as am I). Why is he so attached to the boy he met, why is he not willing to let that go yet? I cannot understand, and perhaps he cannot either. I probably can not give my friend what he received from the other person in the short period of time they were together. And he cannot know now, because I broke apart that chance, I soured that opportunity, and it will take time to uncover, or perhaps bury, that couriosity or even fascination of being and getting to know someone new and exciting.
But at least now I understand more... about his hesitations towards "us", because of our complicated past, about the resentment he felt toward me for suddenly turning around and breaking apart a relationship that was budding back in December with the boy he met and dated... I understood more why we are broken apart ... I have been perhaps too clingy, too needy, and for my friend who had just come out of a long term relationship, that was too much to handle. However much he cares for me (or loves me?), he cannot at this moment enter another relationship and commit.
So we are in the situation where we are now... not quite lovers, but not just friends... not just friends with "special benefits", but not quite two people who are in a committed relationship with one another. I failed to declare my feelings for him at the time when he was chasing after me with such passion and vigour, and how insensitive it was to suddenly turn around and want to be with him at a time when he was just getting over me after my rejections over the course of two years. Nobody is at fault, but nobody is completely guiltless either...
We have had many conversations, many teary nights how we ended up where we are... Where are we headed? Neither of us is sure. Are we going to be together, in a loving, strong relationship where there is no doubt, no questions, just commitment and wanting one another? We do not know, I do not know. I can foresee it happening... He said he can foresee it happening too. But now is not the time... Despite the comfort of being in one another's arms, despite the special feeling of feeling the warmth of one another's hand, despite the woozy feeling of smelling each other's body and lying next to one another, despite the deep heart-to-heart conversations and flippant remarks and insider jokes we can play on one another, now is not the time to be together. If that time will come, or when that time will ever come, nobody knows... Nobody knows... Perhaps our fate is only so much, our connection is only so deep, only so lasting, but not ever lasting.
But it is the way it is, things are the way they are, feelings are the way they are. It is as I suspected and guessed, but it was good to have it confirmed after our deep heart-to-heart talk to uncover our feelings for one another. What more can you want? What more can I ask?
For now, he is the only person in the world who has been able to touch me, move me, and sway me off my feet. We will always be special to one another... always have those beautiful, beautiful memories together that no one can ever take away... Love developed between us, slowly (and perhaps haltingly). That love was jeopardised, that love may have subsided and waned, but the friendship remains...
We are, and always have been, friends first and foremost.
02 August 2011
gift
We decided today to go cycling, a long, long bike ride, which we have not done for a long time. So together with my friend, we hopped on our bikes and pedalled hard.
The weather was wonderful, not too hot or humid, and if it weren't for the wind, it would have been perfect for going at high speeds, which we both enjoy so much on our two wheeler. I had just fixed up both bikes using tools and with help from a bike collective at uni, and the bikes rode incredibly smoothly.
One thing I thoroughly love doing with my friend is just biking. Barely two years ago, he had not been on a bike for years, but as soon as I reintroduced to him how convenient and free it feels on a bike, he was hooked, and ever since we've gone on many long rides together. It really is something that brings us together, and that sense of achievement seeing how fast and how far we've pedalled, and giving each other high fives, really is such a simple fun an joy.
We found a nice secluded quay an just lay down next to one another under the afternoon sun. I called my mum, and chatted about how she was doing with my brother in Europe.
She sounded disappointed, though she was sparing on the details. I could guess what went 'wrong', but I told her that on a few more days she will be gone and back in the comfort of her own home.
Sometime ago, my friend was in Korea, and has asked me specifically what to buy for mum. I didn't want him to spend too much money and to go through too much trouble, but he did anyways. Mum told me that she just received the gift package- ginseng tablets. Not just any type. My friend had gone through the trouble of asking around and buying something that is specifically for cancer patients, as mum told me there was a special ingredient in the tablet which is effective in battling the spread of cancer.
When I heard that, I was so touched, so very touched... My friend was next to me, and immediately I leaned over to stroke his arm and whisper " thank you, thank you" in his ears. After I finished talking to mum, I gave him many big hugs, and again and again I thanked him for the wonderful and very meaningful gift...
Later on i would say many mor " thank yous" to my friend... But how could I really make him feel how I feel deep inside? The gift, and the fact that it's something that can help combat mum's illness, means so very much to me, especially as the gift is for the most important person in my life...
I don't know if my friend realised how special that is, and I cannot imagine what trouble he went through to get that special gift into my mum's hands. But really, I was and am still very touched when I just think about it...2
The weather was wonderful, not too hot or humid, and if it weren't for the wind, it would have been perfect for going at high speeds, which we both enjoy so much on our two wheeler. I had just fixed up both bikes using tools and with help from a bike collective at uni, and the bikes rode incredibly smoothly.
One thing I thoroughly love doing with my friend is just biking. Barely two years ago, he had not been on a bike for years, but as soon as I reintroduced to him how convenient and free it feels on a bike, he was hooked, and ever since we've gone on many long rides together. It really is something that brings us together, and that sense of achievement seeing how fast and how far we've pedalled, and giving each other high fives, really is such a simple fun an joy.
We found a nice secluded quay an just lay down next to one another under the afternoon sun. I called my mum, and chatted about how she was doing with my brother in Europe.
She sounded disappointed, though she was sparing on the details. I could guess what went 'wrong', but I told her that on a few more days she will be gone and back in the comfort of her own home.
Sometime ago, my friend was in Korea, and has asked me specifically what to buy for mum. I didn't want him to spend too much money and to go through too much trouble, but he did anyways. Mum told me that she just received the gift package- ginseng tablets. Not just any type. My friend had gone through the trouble of asking around and buying something that is specifically for cancer patients, as mum told me there was a special ingredient in the tablet which is effective in battling the spread of cancer.
When I heard that, I was so touched, so very touched... My friend was next to me, and immediately I leaned over to stroke his arm and whisper " thank you, thank you" in his ears. After I finished talking to mum, I gave him many big hugs, and again and again I thanked him for the wonderful and very meaningful gift...
Later on i would say many mor " thank yous" to my friend... But how could I really make him feel how I feel deep inside? The gift, and the fact that it's something that can help combat mum's illness, means so very much to me, especially as the gift is for the most important person in my life...
I don't know if my friend realised how special that is, and I cannot imagine what trouble he went through to get that special gift into my mum's hands. But really, I was and am still very touched when I just think about it...2
first concert
They say the first time is the most memorable, and it's true. It was, as the evening drew to a close and as my friend joke, "orgasmic" with all those lights, the fans, the music, and the highlight of the singing and dancing live on stage.
I was invited to go to the concert a few weeks ago, and at first i wasn't too enthusiastic about it. There were some complications (or perhaps I was making it feel as such...) about who's going and whatnot. Plus, I feel I've been spending far too much money, especially after seeing my credit atrocious card bills after mum left... And, though I may know the tunes and songs when I hear them, I've never been someone who goes out to buy an album of any singer in particular, so I feel kind of left out when it comes to who sings what and what the chart topping hits are.
But that all didn't matter much in the end. A pop concert is in the End much like an evening at the theatre or musical, except the entire act revolves around a star, and in this case Janet Jackson. She sang various songs from her best selling number ones, some of which were from before I was even born, but some songs of which everytime I hear on the radio can easily make my heart swoon and at times eyes moisten.
During the concert, there were moments we all stood and danced and clapped our hands to the beat. And then there was this slow, romantic interlude in between, with songs that spoke more meaningfully to me than ever before... Broken hearts, deep longings, lost love, and dreams of togetherness with the one again... I don't know what my friend felt, but sitting next to him, and at times gently, subtly stroking his hand and body, it felt bitter and sweet, romantic and, at the same time, there were feelings that were strange or even misplaced.
When Janet did a quick, upbeat rendition of "Together Again" I could not but feel for her, and myself. Images of her brother flashed on the screen behind her, and despite the cheeriness of the music, the gleeful dance movements, it is such a personal song...
"Everywhere I go
Every smile I see
I know you are there
Smiling back at me
Dancing in the moonlight
I know you are free
Cuz I can see your star
Shining down on me"
Personal for different reasons... For her, she dedicated the song originally to a friend she lost to AiDS, but after her brother's sudden death, it must have gotten new meaning.
I wiped away my tears as my memories drifted uncontrollably to dad's smile, smiling down at me from up above... The music, the dancing, the cheering and close of the crowd did not easily distract from the emptiness I temporarily felt inside.
My friend comforted me and I felt better after a late night snack and lighthearted chat.
But it was an evening to remember, for sure.
01 August 2011
Ghost Month
It's that time of the year again. When the Gates of Hell open, and when the ghosts and spirits of our ancestors come out to 'play'.
Speaking to mum today, she said dad appeared in her dream last night. Only when she checked the date in the morning did she realise that today was the first day of the "Seventh Month". It had been a long time since she last dreamed of dad. Though details are vague, as she could not remember them, she said she spoke to dad as if she were sitting right next to him. Dad asked about how we were doing, and mum replied that we were doing well. "The children are well," she said-- something she can attest to after visiting me and now staying with my brother.
Is it true, pure superstition or complete nonsense... I do not know. But hearing mum talk of dad reminded me again how long it has been since I lost him. I tried to picture his face, picture his figure and how dad looked like in the dream while he was conversing with mum. Whether he 'appeared' or not does not really matter... It left an impression on mum, perhaps even made me nostalgic and left her full of longing. It left an impression on me, even though I only heard about it.
The dream seems to say that he still cares deeply about our wellbeing, and that is something extremely moving and personal... something, as I am recounting and writing about now, moistens my eyes...
Yes, dad, we are doing fine... Brother is having a son soon, and he is now settled with his wife... Mum is alright, despite the aches that are returning to bother her, despite the loneliness she may feel... And I am relatively well... I may be confused, I may be emotionally troubled, but I am healthy, and I am trying my best to finish off my studies and begin my life... Yes, dad, we are doing fine.
From my heart, I really hope you are fine too... Please take good care...
Sights and sounds
I walked into my bedroom in the evening, and made my bed. Messy after the morning I had spent with my friend, and unmade as I left the house in a hurry to meet friends and enjoy the beautiful day. In the room lingered a scent, his scent, and upon closer sniffing of the pillow cover and the duvet, was the smell of his hair, his body.The past few days we have spent almost constantly together. It was the first time we saw more each other and had most time together for the last two months or so, at least since we broke up in May. We laughed, we joked and poked (fun at) one another, we remembered happy times together, we cherished one another's company. We cycled, trailing behind one another at great speeds, trying to play catch with one another till we come to a stop and pant and high-five one another for the great exhilarating exercise and distance we have just done. We slept together, cuddled and kissed, had beautiful, intimate moments. It all feels so good, and so familiar. It feels like there is nothing wrong, that we are just a happy couple enjoying the warmth and comfort we provide one another.
But we both know, deep down, there is something amiss. Perhaps we are both avoiding the conversation, trying not to let the deep, painful and perhaps difficult conversation ruin the beautiful moments we can create and share with one another. As much I enjoy his company, at the end of the day, I ask, consciously or subconsciously, willingly or not, how long this can go on. Should I even be asking? Should I not just let things be, let nature and fun run its course? Does it matter what we are, what label we apply to ourselves and our relationship? We both know it is special, strong and filled with the ups and downs that two people being together can have. Perhaps that is enough to know, and it is not necessary to question, analyse and explain. It is ok to be this way... to just be... to wink at one another seductively, to be playful, to be naughty (in different senses of the word), to flirt and to stroke the other person's body softly, gently, caringly... it is ok to be this way.
But is it right?
31 July 2011
Pride weekend
As with any pride event, the the Village this weekend was filled with crowded bars, pink decorations flying rainbow flags, drag queens and flamboyant gays. It was nice to experience, especially this open air dance and singing show, the music and the atmosphere, and it was wonderful bonding with friends and generally having a good time.
But, like every year, there gets to a point where I'm just bored or even tired of the 'scene'. , Of course, there is the beautiful part of it, where couples come out holding hands, kissing, hugging and proud of their love for one another. But there is also this sense of competition, this veneer of overly sexualised energies. People strut down the streets, wearing flashy clothes, some bare chested showing off their package, all wanting to capture some kind of attention. And people point and stare and comment... how this body or that body is so wonderful, so perfect, how hideous or gorgeous the clothes are on a person. Looks, shoes, hairdoes, skin complexion, face and figure are all scrutinised and judged.
Of course, I do it too for I am not free from judgment and making up an opinion just based from what I see, and I make snide comments here and there. But it makes me wonder: is this a gay thing, or just being human? Does the community, because it is a minority and because there are so few of us, thrive on competition to be the most magnificent, glamourous, beautiful, and worship only the outer beauty and the young?As ever, I feel disenchanted, isolated and do not really feel I can identify with the gay stereotype that is portrayed and perpetuated by the media, and in a way, by the community itself: the attention-hungry, loud, flamboyant, promiscuous, fashionable, beautiful gay man.
After all the partying, drinking, and judging is over and done with, we all go home, we leave the Village, and return to our lives. Some leave with someone (else) in their arms, others head home alone. What was it all about again?
But, like every year, there gets to a point where I'm just bored or even tired of the 'scene'. , Of course, there is the beautiful part of it, where couples come out holding hands, kissing, hugging and proud of their love for one another. But there is also this sense of competition, this veneer of overly sexualised energies. People strut down the streets, wearing flashy clothes, some bare chested showing off their package, all wanting to capture some kind of attention. And people point and stare and comment... how this body or that body is so wonderful, so perfect, how hideous or gorgeous the clothes are on a person. Looks, shoes, hairdoes, skin complexion, face and figure are all scrutinised and judged.
Of course, I do it too for I am not free from judgment and making up an opinion just based from what I see, and I make snide comments here and there. But it makes me wonder: is this a gay thing, or just being human? Does the community, because it is a minority and because there are so few of us, thrive on competition to be the most magnificent, glamourous, beautiful, and worship only the outer beauty and the young?As ever, I feel disenchanted, isolated and do not really feel I can identify with the gay stereotype that is portrayed and perpetuated by the media, and in a way, by the community itself: the attention-hungry, loud, flamboyant, promiscuous, fashionable, beautiful gay man.
After all the partying, drinking, and judging is over and done with, we all go home, we leave the Village, and return to our lives. Some leave with someone (else) in their arms, others head home alone. What was it all about again?
To write or not to write
This has been on my mind for some time. To write or not to write, that is the question.
I started this blog five years ago (already five years...!) to jot down my thoughts and my experiences of the world.
It is like a personal diary, but public.
It is my confidante, but open.
It is like my closest friend, but made up of words (and sometimes pictures) that come from me.
I began this personal blog, mainly because my first blog I had shared with friends and family. At some point, I was beginning to be asked questions about my blog, and at times it had been used as a source of gossip or talk, which made me uncomfortable writing. The solution was to start an alternative blog and shy away from all the attention or negative remarks.
And now I find myself in a similar situation with my closest friend who constantly reads this blog. At times, if my writing sounds melancholic or sad, he would call or visit to comfort me. This is something I greatly appreciate and cherish. But at times, when I write things that are of direct concern or relate to him, he would want to talk to me about it, which makes me feel uncomfortable, in a way having to justify my thoughts and feelings, when I cannot.
So the other day, he read something which he found had painted him in a bad light. We talked about it, and I realised perhaps it did unfairly portray him, and I apologised for it. But again, afterwards I felt kind of unsure what I should do: keep on writing, keep on sharing my thoughts and getting my feelings down, or bottle them all in side. Or perhaps I should find an alternative source of outlet?
I want to, I need to keep on writing, right here... this is my way of releasing my fears, my experiences. This blog is my way for me to look back and retrace where I have come from, where I have been, how much I have grown (or stepped back) over time. And this is, as the web-address suggests, the "alternative" side of my life: a source, a means and an end where I can be frank, honest and not feel like I have anything to hide.
Perhaps... no, it can only be a fact that this blog is biased and personal, because it exists for the very purpose of recording all the personal experiences and views I have on this world. This blog is my life and my interactions with the rest of the world laid out bare, and perhaps in doing so I should not fear the consequences of my words and my thoughts (provided of course, people and experiences are not written about maliciously or made up), even if it makes someone, especially a close friend, uncomfortable or feel criticised.
I write, and I hope I do so with responsibility, in the sense that I hope I don't overly paint people or experiences in a bad or overly biased light. Perhaps this blog is a useless running monologue of a depressed and lost tweenager trying to find his way in life. Perhaps this blog is not worth the bytes of storage space and pixels on the screen. Perhaps I should be careful and not be so frank about sharing my deepest thoughts and feelings with everyone.
But to me, this blog is important and personal, and it is my life.
I started this blog five years ago (already five years...!) to jot down my thoughts and my experiences of the world.
It is like a personal diary, but public.
It is my confidante, but open.
It is like my closest friend, but made up of words (and sometimes pictures) that come from me.
I began this personal blog, mainly because my first blog I had shared with friends and family. At some point, I was beginning to be asked questions about my blog, and at times it had been used as a source of gossip or talk, which made me uncomfortable writing. The solution was to start an alternative blog and shy away from all the attention or negative remarks.
And now I find myself in a similar situation with my closest friend who constantly reads this blog. At times, if my writing sounds melancholic or sad, he would call or visit to comfort me. This is something I greatly appreciate and cherish. But at times, when I write things that are of direct concern or relate to him, he would want to talk to me about it, which makes me feel uncomfortable, in a way having to justify my thoughts and feelings, when I cannot. So the other day, he read something which he found had painted him in a bad light. We talked about it, and I realised perhaps it did unfairly portray him, and I apologised for it. But again, afterwards I felt kind of unsure what I should do: keep on writing, keep on sharing my thoughts and getting my feelings down, or bottle them all in side. Or perhaps I should find an alternative source of outlet?
I want to, I need to keep on writing, right here... this is my way of releasing my fears, my experiences. This blog is my way for me to look back and retrace where I have come from, where I have been, how much I have grown (or stepped back) over time. And this is, as the web-address suggests, the "alternative" side of my life: a source, a means and an end where I can be frank, honest and not feel like I have anything to hide.
Perhaps... no, it can only be a fact that this blog is biased and personal, because it exists for the very purpose of recording all the personal experiences and views I have on this world. This blog is my life and my interactions with the rest of the world laid out bare, and perhaps in doing so I should not fear the consequences of my words and my thoughts (provided of course, people and experiences are not written about maliciously or made up), even if it makes someone, especially a close friend, uncomfortable or feel criticised.
I write, and I hope I do so with responsibility, in the sense that I hope I don't overly paint people or experiences in a bad or overly biased light. Perhaps this blog is a useless running monologue of a depressed and lost tweenager trying to find his way in life. Perhaps this blog is not worth the bytes of storage space and pixels on the screen. Perhaps I should be careful and not be so frank about sharing my deepest thoughts and feelings with everyone.
But to me, this blog is important and personal, and it is my life.
30 July 2011
couple
Through a friend I met a couple. A very cute and seemingly compatible couple. It was only today I found out that they were on their 'honeymoon', as they got 'married' (partnered) recently.
I chatted with them, about how they met, how they've been together for over two years, and one day it just dawned on them to get officially 'married'. I guess there comes a point when you realise: this is the one, this is the one I can picture myself being with all my life.
They admitted it's because there are economic benefits, especially since they were already living together. But there are other, more important issues, like visitation rights should someone fall ill and be hospitalized, rights to insurance payout should one be maimed or pass away; all the rights and privileges a legally sanctioned relationship enjoy.
Seeing them so happy together, touching and caressing one another, kissing passionately in public made me envious. It's so beautiful, yet at the same time hard to watch, because it just reminds me of what I so long for, but have difficulty finding, or keeping. That closeness, that intimacy, that trust, that understanding and that meeting of two minds to want to spend the rest of our lives together, no matter what.
It's so beautiful, so hard to find, and so precious to keep and treasure.
I chatted with them, about how they met, how they've been together for over two years, and one day it just dawned on them to get officially 'married'. I guess there comes a point when you realise: this is the one, this is the one I can picture myself being with all my life.
They admitted it's because there are economic benefits, especially since they were already living together. But there are other, more important issues, like visitation rights should someone fall ill and be hospitalized, rights to insurance payout should one be maimed or pass away; all the rights and privileges a legally sanctioned relationship enjoy.
Seeing them so happy together, touching and caressing one another, kissing passionately in public made me envious. It's so beautiful, yet at the same time hard to watch, because it just reminds me of what I so long for, but have difficulty finding, or keeping. That closeness, that intimacy, that trust, that understanding and that meeting of two minds to want to spend the rest of our lives together, no matter what.
It's so beautiful, so hard to find, and so precious to keep and treasure.
28 July 2011
friend's child
We met at the beginning of the last year of my studies in london. Because of number of personality traits and life experiences, we became very close, and thanks to him those final days of my studies felt less lonely.
Over the years, though I've moved away, we kept in touch, and I followed news of how he met his wife, how they fell in love and eventually got married. I had the honour of being his best man, but I could not go at the time as I had just started a degree.
Fast forward a few years, six months or so ago, they had their first child together. A beautiful baby of mixed origin, with pale skin and fine oriental features. Everytime I see the pictures of his son, I could feel how proud he was, and how loving the family is.
But behind the scenes, the child has suffered several epilepsy attacks and been in and out of hospital numerous times. I did what little I could, leave him messages of encouragement and hope, send them my well wishes when I meditated.
Today, my friend's profile status stated that the baby stopped breathing numerous time, and may not survive...
A sense of shock and sadness overcame me, but my thoughts turned to my friend and his wife... What they must be feeling...? The depths of worry, agony, hurt and forlorn must be unbearable. And all that my friend has gone through in life, yet another painful and difficult hurdle for him to overcome.
My thoughts are with you, my friend...
Over the years, though I've moved away, we kept in touch, and I followed news of how he met his wife, how they fell in love and eventually got married. I had the honour of being his best man, but I could not go at the time as I had just started a degree.
Fast forward a few years, six months or so ago, they had their first child together. A beautiful baby of mixed origin, with pale skin and fine oriental features. Everytime I see the pictures of his son, I could feel how proud he was, and how loving the family is.
But behind the scenes, the child has suffered several epilepsy attacks and been in and out of hospital numerous times. I did what little I could, leave him messages of encouragement and hope, send them my well wishes when I meditated.
Today, my friend's profile status stated that the baby stopped breathing numerous time, and may not survive...
A sense of shock and sadness overcame me, but my thoughts turned to my friend and his wife... What they must be feeling...? The depths of worry, agony, hurt and forlorn must be unbearable. And all that my friend has gone through in life, yet another painful and difficult hurdle for him to overcome.
My thoughts are with you, my friend...
Schubert d-minor D 810
Slow, troubled, holding back, and then unleashing the build up of it all...
Beautiful.
Beautiful.
27 July 2011
Life and death
A friend just wrote to me, pouring her heart about about the latest loss of a loved one. Just over two months ago, she had lost her mother, and now, another person dear in her life passed away.
She wrote to me, expressing much fear and confusion in her mind. At the end of it all, she apologised for bothering me with her dark thoughts and news, but I thought nothing of it.
I spent the entire evening writing back to her, hoping that she could find some solace in my words. I wished there was much more I could do, but being so far away, all I could do was 'listen' and write back, encouraging her to live on, to move on and continue with life, however painful and difficult it may be.
She expressed to me how deep the loneliness feels of losing a dear one. I wrote back, consoling her, telling her, perhaps in the cliche way, that it is all natural, that when there is life, there is death, and that feelings will pass. But deep down, I questioned myself as I was writing... I can write all this to console a friend in need, can I really console myself when the moment comes when I have to deal with loss?
Have I really felt that depth of loneliness, that sense of despair you don't want to live anymore because you have lost all the motherly comfort and security you have known and gotten used to before...? Am I prepared for it? And who can I turn to really, who can I really feel comfortable confiding in and not feel awkward about burdening?
I could write so beautifully, perhaps even so poetically, about dealing with death and about trying to move on.... but deep inside, I felt and heard the word "hypocrite" echoing... What do I really know about death? Perhaps I have forgotten already, since it has already been over three years since dad passed away. And dealing with mum's illness, even though it is facing death, is not really death itself. Am I really all that experienced and immune to the pain? Will I not feel the same sense of loss and being lost when it happens to me next? And can I really cope on my own?
I don't know... but however much I care for my friend and however much I am concerned about her wellbeing, these questions make me feel like an impostor and a fake.
She wrote to me, expressing much fear and confusion in her mind. At the end of it all, she apologised for bothering me with her dark thoughts and news, but I thought nothing of it.
I spent the entire evening writing back to her, hoping that she could find some solace in my words. I wished there was much more I could do, but being so far away, all I could do was 'listen' and write back, encouraging her to live on, to move on and continue with life, however painful and difficult it may be.
She expressed to me how deep the loneliness feels of losing a dear one. I wrote back, consoling her, telling her, perhaps in the cliche way, that it is all natural, that when there is life, there is death, and that feelings will pass. But deep down, I questioned myself as I was writing... I can write all this to console a friend in need, can I really console myself when the moment comes when I have to deal with loss?
Have I really felt that depth of loneliness, that sense of despair you don't want to live anymore because you have lost all the motherly comfort and security you have known and gotten used to before...? Am I prepared for it? And who can I turn to really, who can I really feel comfortable confiding in and not feel awkward about burdening?
I could write so beautifully, perhaps even so poetically, about dealing with death and about trying to move on.... but deep inside, I felt and heard the word "hypocrite" echoing... What do I really know about death? Perhaps I have forgotten already, since it has already been over three years since dad passed away. And dealing with mum's illness, even though it is facing death, is not really death itself. Am I really all that experienced and immune to the pain? Will I not feel the same sense of loss and being lost when it happens to me next? And can I really cope on my own?
I don't know... but however much I care for my friend and however much I am concerned about her wellbeing, these questions make me feel like an impostor and a fake.
26 July 2011
Will
I don't know how we got onto the topic, but out of nowhere my friends brought up the topic of writing a will. It sounds silly, especially at this age, and as I've not got much to give away should anything happen to me. But perhaps it's not really silly after all, and in fact I've thought about it somewhat over the past few years, especially since dad passed away and as mum's health has declined.
I wouldn't know what I would leave behind to the world. All the worldly possessions and whatever is in my money I could give to charity... perhaps some dear friend would get a treasured item or two. But for the rest, at least so far, I have not left much on this world except the impressions on the lives of people who have come into my life. Perhaps that is my legacy.... I try, and keep on trying, to make people dear in my life feel valued and special, cared for and important. And no where is that more clear in the way I treat my own mother. And I know, or at least I feel, I am capable of doing that to others who have a place in my heart.
The conversation moved onto investments and life policies. Someone said it was not important for gays to have those, especially if we don't have children. More important is to have some kind of disability insurance in case something happens, so that you can at least be independent. Put it crudely, chances are you will be single and there will be no one really to take care of you.
Hearing that make me think and become somewhat apprehensive. Of course that is all speculative and one never knows what will happen... but it may be true, especially being alone and single that it will be harder for me to depend on any kind of safety structure should anything like an illness or disability occur to me. Most people would have families to fall back on, a spouse or children to provide moral and emotional support. But if I am to be single then really I need to think of contingency plans and ways to safeguard my own future.
It all sounds and feels very abstract and premature, I know. But really, when I am reminded of the prospect of being single and having no offspring, then a sort of alarm goes off deep inside.
I wouldn't know what I would leave behind to the world. All the worldly possessions and whatever is in my money I could give to charity... perhaps some dear friend would get a treasured item or two. But for the rest, at least so far, I have not left much on this world except the impressions on the lives of people who have come into my life. Perhaps that is my legacy.... I try, and keep on trying, to make people dear in my life feel valued and special, cared for and important. And no where is that more clear in the way I treat my own mother. And I know, or at least I feel, I am capable of doing that to others who have a place in my heart.
The conversation moved onto investments and life policies. Someone said it was not important for gays to have those, especially if we don't have children. More important is to have some kind of disability insurance in case something happens, so that you can at least be independent. Put it crudely, chances are you will be single and there will be no one really to take care of you.
Hearing that make me think and become somewhat apprehensive. Of course that is all speculative and one never knows what will happen... but it may be true, especially being alone and single that it will be harder for me to depend on any kind of safety structure should anything like an illness or disability occur to me. Most people would have families to fall back on, a spouse or children to provide moral and emotional support. But if I am to be single then really I need to think of contingency plans and ways to safeguard my own future.
It all sounds and feels very abstract and premature, I know. But really, when I am reminded of the prospect of being single and having no offspring, then a sort of alarm goes off deep inside.
Realisations
Too gullible, my friend was basically telling me. Too gullible and easily swayed by flattery and a bit of soft words and touching, and my heart weakens. In the long run, do I benefit from it? It's a question that has been put back at me by various people, including myself.
More details were revealed today about events that took place in my absence here which made me realise once again I have my own happiness and well-being in my own hands. Confused as ever how I got myself into a relationship tangle, I am trying to dig my way out. Confused I am about how things suddenly just fell apart from one day to the next. What happened, really, what happened, I find myself asking. But there is no answer.
"Move on..."
"Keep your options open..."
"Play around..."
I have tried. And yet the heart and mind goes back to where it feels comfortable, where it finds security never before found.
Break free.
More details were revealed today about events that took place in my absence here which made me realise once again I have my own happiness and well-being in my own hands. Confused as ever how I got myself into a relationship tangle, I am trying to dig my way out. Confused I am about how things suddenly just fell apart from one day to the next. What happened, really, what happened, I find myself asking. But there is no answer.
"Move on..."
"Keep your options open..."
"Play around..."
I have tried. And yet the heart and mind goes back to where it feels comfortable, where it finds security never before found.
Break free.
25 July 2011
Insensitivities
I came across a piece of news online, about the official opposition leader of Canada being diagnosed with a second cancer. He fought off his (first) prostate cancer, and though weakened, went on to lead his party to a surprising election victory. However, he is now stepping back from politics, if only temporarily, to fight the latest diagnosis.
It wasn't really the news of him stepping back that made me sad. It was reading the comments that some online users left behind that just made me feel so shocked about how people have so little sympathy and can be so wicked when it comes to politics. Though most of the disgusting comments have been deleted (moderated), I felt sick reading some that have not yet been removed.
Of course, there was an enormous outpouring of sympathy and well-wishes, some of which were very moving and personal. But then there are these array of vile, insensitive comments targeting and cursing a man who is already ill with perhaps the worst disease one could possibly imagine. Have these people got not sympathy for the suffering and pain of a fellow human being? Do they even know what it feels like for the patient and the family members to live with cancer and to go through the painfully, painfully testing and long treatments-- and to emerge unsure whether it will all succeed? They can not begin to imagine, cannot even begin to know unless they have experienced it themselves.
Cancer is no laughing matter, and certainly not fodder to fuel political bickering and material to use to add to someone's miseries and suffering, no matter which side of the political divide the person is on.
It wasn't really the news of him stepping back that made me sad. It was reading the comments that some online users left behind that just made me feel so shocked about how people have so little sympathy and can be so wicked when it comes to politics. Though most of the disgusting comments have been deleted (moderated), I felt sick reading some that have not yet been removed.
Of course, there was an enormous outpouring of sympathy and well-wishes, some of which were very moving and personal. But then there are these array of vile, insensitive comments targeting and cursing a man who is already ill with perhaps the worst disease one could possibly imagine. Have these people got not sympathy for the suffering and pain of a fellow human being? Do they even know what it feels like for the patient and the family members to live with cancer and to go through the painfully, painfully testing and long treatments-- and to emerge unsure whether it will all succeed? They can not begin to imagine, cannot even begin to know unless they have experienced it themselves.
Cancer is no laughing matter, and certainly not fodder to fuel political bickering and material to use to add to someone's miseries and suffering, no matter which side of the political divide the person is on.
24 July 2011
The past
It happened over three years ago. But I was reminded of it today while browsing through my email folders. It had escaped me, even though at the time it hurt be deeply, so bad I had to run out of the office and cry on the streets before collecting myself and returning to work.
I had just lost my dad, and returned to work after a month of being away. A friend, and colleague, someone with whom I thought I was close, pulled a terrible prank on me. It was so bad I was silenced and hurt beyond belief. I just ran out of the office.
Most painful of all was the betrayal. I thought there was something between us, a friendship that had developed through our studies and outside thereof. But even something strong can weaken and break down with one episode of poor judgement. After I collected myself, I told him it was cruel and insensitive of him. He apologised profusely and bought me a gift in an attempt to make amends. I accepted his apology. But things were never the same again. And a friendship I thought I found for life waned and eventually disappeared, buried under events, memories and people that came to fill my life since.
The email I received was his apology. He had sent it almost a year after the incident. I must have read it, but never replied to him. He said he sometimes lay awake at night, tormented by what he had done to me, and asked for my forgiveness again. I don't know why I never replied. I was over it. Time, the passage thereof, had healed my hurt, and I had moved on. Thinking back, it is an episode I can talk and write about, and not feel the same degree of pain I had felt back then.
I guess reading (or re-reading rather) his email today made me realise again... hurt, however deep, betrayal, however painful, will subside. And time, time may not always heal all wounds, but time can make you forget the details, the faces, the words that made you so upset and distraught in the first place. And some friends will come and go, just as those moments when you feel like the world is tumbling down, will come and go.
I had just lost my dad, and returned to work after a month of being away. A friend, and colleague, someone with whom I thought I was close, pulled a terrible prank on me. It was so bad I was silenced and hurt beyond belief. I just ran out of the office.
Most painful of all was the betrayal. I thought there was something between us, a friendship that had developed through our studies and outside thereof. But even something strong can weaken and break down with one episode of poor judgement. After I collected myself, I told him it was cruel and insensitive of him. He apologised profusely and bought me a gift in an attempt to make amends. I accepted his apology. But things were never the same again. And a friendship I thought I found for life waned and eventually disappeared, buried under events, memories and people that came to fill my life since.
The email I received was his apology. He had sent it almost a year after the incident. I must have read it, but never replied to him. He said he sometimes lay awake at night, tormented by what he had done to me, and asked for my forgiveness again. I don't know why I never replied. I was over it. Time, the passage thereof, had healed my hurt, and I had moved on. Thinking back, it is an episode I can talk and write about, and not feel the same degree of pain I had felt back then.
I guess reading (or re-reading rather) his email today made me realise again... hurt, however deep, betrayal, however painful, will subside. And time, time may not always heal all wounds, but time can make you forget the details, the faces, the words that made you so upset and distraught in the first place. And some friends will come and go, just as those moments when you feel like the world is tumbling down, will come and go.
22 July 2011
In Europe
While I am here by myself, sweltering in the heat and trying to pick up my thesis work, mum is enjoying life with my brother and sister-in-law, and the cooler climate in Europe. And that is great! It really is.
"He really has changed," mum said, referring to my brother. She has not seen him so happy and put so much effort into something the way he is busy nowadays preparing for the arrival of the baby. Yesterday, they went to the gynecologist, and for the first time, mum heard the baby's heart beat broadcast on speakers. I don't know if they also managed to see echographs of the first baby of my family's next generation. I could hear the happiness and excitement in mum's voice, and that was so very moving.
The way she described how things are there, and how well mum is getting along with brother and my sister-in-law made filled me with such joy I was close to tears (yes, I am for some reason very emotional these days still...).
It is just as I had hoped, and not as I had feared. However much I would like to go there and be with them, deep down I would like them to spend time together. However much I would like to go and enjoy hiking around the forests behind house, or go walking on the beach at sunset with them, I want them to bond, to have and make precious memories together. I have had my many moments with mum, and it is their turn. Mum also needs to have the moments alone with brother (and my sister-in-law) to talk about things that perhaps they would otherwise not do if I were hanging around all the time. For, if anything should happen, the experience of living and being together these coming few weeks will provide mum, brother, and his wife with beautiful moments they can always recall and cherish.
"He really has changed," mum said, referring to my brother. She has not seen him so happy and put so much effort into something the way he is busy nowadays preparing for the arrival of the baby. Yesterday, they went to the gynecologist, and for the first time, mum heard the baby's heart beat broadcast on speakers. I don't know if they also managed to see echographs of the first baby of my family's next generation. I could hear the happiness and excitement in mum's voice, and that was so very moving.
The way she described how things are there, and how well mum is getting along with brother and my sister-in-law made filled me with such joy I was close to tears (yes, I am for some reason very emotional these days still...).
It is just as I had hoped, and not as I had feared. However much I would like to go there and be with them, deep down I would like them to spend time together. However much I would like to go and enjoy hiking around the forests behind house, or go walking on the beach at sunset with them, I want them to bond, to have and make precious memories together. I have had my many moments with mum, and it is their turn. Mum also needs to have the moments alone with brother (and my sister-in-law) to talk about things that perhaps they would otherwise not do if I were hanging around all the time. For, if anything should happen, the experience of living and being together these coming few weeks will provide mum, brother, and his wife with beautiful moments they can always recall and cherish.
21 July 2011
summer storm
Sat on my balcony, and watched the dark clouds brighten and dim like an exciting fireworks display. A summer storm is expected, for it has been simmering, gathering, hoarding the rain and tensions and coolness in dense clouds that slowly, slowly approached the city. A release of all that pent up frustration, all that fury from the oppressive and unbearable heat will be a welcome change.
I began writing, and now I feel the soothing drops of rain splash on my feet, skin and face. The lightning came quietly, without the thunder, and finally, the heat is gradually dissipating as the rain cools the earth an the night. The rain is not as heavy as anticipated, the release perhaps not as orgasmic as imagined. Or, perhaps, the dripping wet rain is waiting for its passion to brew and ripen?
After the wet release, there follows a gentle calm, a clean fresh start from the delirious heat of day.
I hope to sleep better tonight...
I began writing, and now I feel the soothing drops of rain splash on my feet, skin and face. The lightning came quietly, without the thunder, and finally, the heat is gradually dissipating as the rain cools the earth an the night. The rain is not as heavy as anticipated, the release perhaps not as orgasmic as imagined. Or, perhaps, the dripping wet rain is waiting for its passion to brew and ripen?
After the wet release, there follows a gentle calm, a clean fresh start from the delirious heat of day.
I hope to sleep better tonight...
20 July 2011
18 July 2011
war museum
Visiting the Canadian War Museum, seeing images of mangled bodies and souls, staring in the eyes of forlorn victims, of soldiers longing for loved ones, of relatives waiting and praying, you realise what true loss means.
War, conflict, skirmish... They mean the same, just words that try to capture and water down the magnitude of agony and suffering, destruction and despair, madness and chaos, senselessness and the human ingenuity to inflict an unleash pain on others, and the environment all around.
War, conflict, skirmish... They mean the same, just words that try to capture and water down the magnitude of agony and suffering, destruction and despair, madness and chaos, senselessness and the human ingenuity to inflict an unleash pain on others, and the environment all around.
Change
A friend came over tonight, and we chatted and caught up on one another's lives over the past two months.
I unloaded what has been on my mind a lot... the constant struggle trying to reconcile events that have been unfolding in my life. "Change," my friend told me, "Sometimes it is best to make changes to your life." Change your perspective on things, do new things, meet new friends and leave the past behind. Dwelling on things will not help, for I have so much to live for, I have so much potential. And my duty is to my own happiness, to my own wellbeing, which I often neglect in my willingness to be there and offer myself to others.
Focus on the big picture, on the long term perspective, on the happy things in life that are unfolding. Change, for the better.
I unloaded what has been on my mind a lot... the constant struggle trying to reconcile events that have been unfolding in my life. "Change," my friend told me, "Sometimes it is best to make changes to your life." Change your perspective on things, do new things, meet new friends and leave the past behind. Dwelling on things will not help, for I have so much to live for, I have so much potential. And my duty is to my own happiness, to my own wellbeing, which I often neglect in my willingness to be there and offer myself to others.
Focus on the big picture, on the long term perspective, on the happy things in life that are unfolding. Change, for the better.
17 July 2011
illusions
It told me to imagine, for imagination is reality, is what is beautiful. This world, the reality of it is but an illusion, ere changing, ever dying. But imagination cannot die, it lives on in dreams, fantasies and as long as the mind is open...
"If you want to be with what you're magnetizing, you have to put yourself in the picture..." ('Illusions', R. Bach)
I closed my eyes, let the evening breeze mingled with the scene of green grass and a sun-beaten lake, wash over...
I imagine lying on the grass with my eyes closed. I imagine I am not alone, but in the warm embrace of another. A beautiful person, soft and warm hearted, caring and understanding, lying next to me. No complications, no conditions, no expectations. Just being, just being together and savoring the moment together, just savoring life together.
I imagine the grass field, a little damp from the morning dew, his body, skin to skin, next to me. I imagine our eyes are closed, but our hearts are open to one another. No secrets, no things unsaid, no feelings unclear.
I imagine the breeze blowing over our bodies, covering us in a gentle blanket of air. I imagine that we can lie together in that position, that we can always somehow find ourselves in a similar position under different circumstances, at different points in our shared lives, and never ever tire of one another.
That is my imagination.
And that is reality.
"If you want to be with what you're magnetizing, you have to put yourself in the picture..." ('Illusions', R. Bach)
I closed my eyes, let the evening breeze mingled with the scene of green grass and a sun-beaten lake, wash over...
I imagine lying on the grass with my eyes closed. I imagine I am not alone, but in the warm embrace of another. A beautiful person, soft and warm hearted, caring and understanding, lying next to me. No complications, no conditions, no expectations. Just being, just being together and savoring the moment together, just savoring life together.
I imagine the grass field, a little damp from the morning dew, his body, skin to skin, next to me. I imagine our eyes are closed, but our hearts are open to one another. No secrets, no things unsaid, no feelings unclear.
I imagine the breeze blowing over our bodies, covering us in a gentle blanket of air. I imagine that we can lie together in that position, that we can always somehow find ourselves in a similar position under different circumstances, at different points in our shared lives, and never ever tire of one another.
That is my imagination.
And that is reality.
Baby's room
Through skype they showed me the baby's room. Beautifully painted in a light brownish shade, with shapes of stars and planets as decor on the wall face. There is a set of white furniture my brother spent two days assembling, and in the closet, already half filled with clothes that mum just both grandmas are fighting to buy for the baby. How lucky the baby is, and he is not even born yet!
In the corner of the room was a blue doll. I couldnt recognize it at first, then upon closer look, I saw it was a handmade rabbit doll I bought for the babu in Halifax two weeks ago. I could not contain my smile seeing all the cute little toys, the Miffy dolls, the stroller, the stacks of nappies. And I could see mum wad really getting very excited too, which is a big plus for her general wellbeing and health.
Tomorrow is the official wedding day, but shame I cannot be there with them to celebrate. Buy I have already sent them my best wishes, and gifts, and tomorrow I will think of them, and miss them dearly...
In the corner of the room was a blue doll. I couldnt recognize it at first, then upon closer look, I saw it was a handmade rabbit doll I bought for the babu in Halifax two weeks ago. I could not contain my smile seeing all the cute little toys, the Miffy dolls, the stroller, the stacks of nappies. And I could see mum wad really getting very excited too, which is a big plus for her general wellbeing and health.
Tomorrow is the official wedding day, but shame I cannot be there with them to celebrate. Buy I have already sent them my best wishes, and gifts, and tomorrow I will think of them, and miss them dearly...
dream
Had such a rough night, lying in bed with so many thoughts in my head. There were so many things i wanted to say out loud to someone, but i could not, just cannot, at least not at this moment. It was getting brighter and burghers by the time I lost consciousness.
I slept badly, and a dream woke me up. I felt like I was late for something, to catch a train I think (tomorrow I need to wake up early to do just that). But in the dream I overslept and by the time I woke up, I had already missed my train, and missed the time I needed to be there for an appointment.
Then in my dream, as I sat there on my bed realising I had missed my train, my thought suddenly turned to mum in the next room. I quickly ran to her room, for she had a plane to catch, and at that she already missed it by two days. How could I completely forget about her flight, I found myself scolding myself in the dream. I entered her room, and indeed she was still sleeping, and just waking up when I walked in. She looked distraught.
I woke up from my, and was so powerfully overwhelmed by a deep deep realisation... Mum is not there any more. I started to moan out loud from the pain of realisation, and I cried, even there were no tears coming out...
I slept badly, and a dream woke me up. I felt like I was late for something, to catch a train I think (tomorrow I need to wake up early to do just that). But in the dream I overslept and by the time I woke up, I had already missed my train, and missed the time I needed to be there for an appointment.
Then in my dream, as I sat there on my bed realising I had missed my train, my thought suddenly turned to mum in the next room. I quickly ran to her room, for she had a plane to catch, and at that she already missed it by two days. How could I completely forget about her flight, I found myself scolding myself in the dream. I entered her room, and indeed she was still sleeping, and just waking up when I walked in. She looked distraught.
I woke up from my, and was so powerfully overwhelmed by a deep deep realisation... Mum is not there any more. I started to moan out loud from the pain of realisation, and I cried, even there were no tears coming out...
One night
A lot can happen in one night. Many unexpected things and people you may encounter that can change the way you think about yourself, about your life and experiences.
A lot can happen in one night. Minds are cleared, at least for the short while they are open and aired, decisions are made, at least for that moment when there is clarity and certainty.
It takes only one night, or just one split second, and things can change forever.
A lot can happen in one night. Minds are cleared, at least for the short while they are open and aired, decisions are made, at least for that moment when there is clarity and certainty.
It takes only one night, or just one split second, and things can change forever.
16 July 2011
Picking up
I slept early, and by the time I got up it was half past six in the morning. My eyes were tired, and my head still reeling from dreams and images, some very difficult to remember, difficult to let go of. Two goodbyes in a week. It is hard for anyone.
Mum arrived safely in Europe, and is now with my brother. I got up, but found it hard to pry myself out of bed, despite the gorgeous weather. The cat was still asleep, I walked into the bedroom mum slept in, and it was empty. A few packets of her medicine had been left behind on the table. A travel guidebook lay next to the pillow she slept on. I had gotten used to seeing her on the bed in the morning, and now she is gone.
I had wanted to clean the house, but was lost where to start. I was even lost what to eat, for when mum was around, I would prepare lots of fruits and vegetables and healthy foods to make sure she eats well. But not that she is not around, I seem to have lost appetite.
In a way, I am afraid of shifting through the pieces of paper and receipts, the brochures, and finally sorting out the suitcases I had put away since we got back to Montreal three weeks ago. There have been many memories, many beautiful ones, but also difficult and testing ones. Not just of my time with mum, but also of events before that, before I left here. I have been away from my life for two months, and it is hard to pick up the pieces and try to put everything back together again.
But I need to, I need to for myself. I need to pick up the pieces of my life where I left off abruptly back in May, and start to rebuild my life. Clean out the clutter, remove the lingering sadness and memories, and start life fresh, determined to be happy and at ease with being alone.
Mum arrived safely in Europe, and is now with my brother. I got up, but found it hard to pry myself out of bed, despite the gorgeous weather. The cat was still asleep, I walked into the bedroom mum slept in, and it was empty. A few packets of her medicine had been left behind on the table. A travel guidebook lay next to the pillow she slept on. I had gotten used to seeing her on the bed in the morning, and now she is gone.
I had wanted to clean the house, but was lost where to start. I was even lost what to eat, for when mum was around, I would prepare lots of fruits and vegetables and healthy foods to make sure she eats well. But not that she is not around, I seem to have lost appetite.
In a way, I am afraid of shifting through the pieces of paper and receipts, the brochures, and finally sorting out the suitcases I had put away since we got back to Montreal three weeks ago. There have been many memories, many beautiful ones, but also difficult and testing ones. Not just of my time with mum, but also of events before that, before I left here. I have been away from my life for two months, and it is hard to pick up the pieces and try to put everything back together again.
But I need to, I need to for myself. I need to pick up the pieces of my life where I left off abruptly back in May, and start to rebuild my life. Clean out the clutter, remove the lingering sadness and memories, and start life fresh, determined to be happy and at ease with being alone.
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