Heaven

There are days when I wish I can feel that again. I don’t know when and I don’t know who; but I only know that it is not now because falling down from heaven isn’t great at all.

Happy Hat

I have a certain wish that I do not deny having:

The kisses and cuddles;

the conversation and companionship;

the care and attention

from that one single person who used to be my own.

 

I do not deny that I longed for the happy old times:

When laughter was the reason I chose him;

when his little gestures unmasked his feelings;

when his words were his promises,

that made every moment spent together special.

 

But memories are just fragments of the past,

it should not be the prison of my sorrows;

Though haunted with hope that he would longed for me again,

I constantly remind myself

that I was only his first trophy and nothing more.

 

As I try to hold dear of the present and tomorrow,

I wear my happy hat:

To tell myself that there is more to life,

to tell myself that I have wonderful friends,

and finally, to tell myself that I mean nothing to him.

An Important Message for Both Genders

Ladies:
- Please remember that the man who hold your hand now may not be the same man who desperately fought for your attention before. For whatever reason, men get overly excited easily when they see a girl who pleases their eyes. Once they get what they want, they may forget all the hardships they went through to have her in their arms. For some, they consistently hold you close to their hearts, protect you from harm and only have their eyes on you. Be sure to cherish them just as much as they cherish you. For most, unfortunately, they get bored with all the sweet things then eventually neglect and ignore you. Although he is not perfect, there are signs when a break up is near. Never fool yourselves with many excuses on why he is consistently neglecting you. If, despite all the effort you put into relationship, he still behaves like that, he is no longer worth your time and feelings because he simply does not cherished them. He is, afterall, still a boy. It is time to move on.

Gentlemen:
- Please remember that the girl in your arms is not a trophy; she is not someone you can just put on the cabinet and admire the fact that you achieved in acquiring her then let her collect dust over time until you are bored with her then throw her into the memory box to be moved into the attic and forget all about it. You should always continuously put in the effort to cherish her and hold her dear. There’ll always be issues and difficulties in a relationship and it has never meant to be smooth sailing. Remember, a boy who gives up easily is really not a man at all. Don’t forget that she is human and she has feelings.

Confessions of a Broken Heart

It was a horrible night yesterday; I was wrestling with insomnia, despair and anger to allow me to fall asleep. Yet, I had to rid some things that served as reminders and drove for an hour or so before I could fall asleep at almost 5am.

However.

My slumber was not restful; I was still haunted in my dreams. At my wake, I felt the cocktail of emotional pain immediately like icy water splashed onto me. As it was too much to take, I return to my sleep to be haunted again. At my wake, it was the same. The viscious cycle just wouldn’t end.

There were a few quotes that came into my mind such as “Rip my arteries, constrict my veins, end this pain in this broken heart” and “If there’s a washing machine that washes off memories, I’ll gladly use it to rid the stain of you”.  There were more; but my memory fails me as always.

It really hurts me, the whole thing hurts me.  It hurts me so much that I am numbed of my directions. It hurts me so much that I don’t ever want to see him again.

Too Long a Gap

I am a serial offender in making plans and not following through as thoroughly as I should; either because of the lack of time, dried inspiraton in writing or sudden change of circumstances.  This explain my unfinished project on a series of short stories and lacked of blog updates.

Should I feel guilty?

Yes and no.  Yes as in that I lacked discipline and that could be detrimental to my development in any form of projects.  It is hard to achieve, even failures, if this goes on.

No as in that I don’t feel obliged to entertain anyone in particular; though comments are welcome and I will gladly receive them as long as they are relevant.

Speaking of which, my lack of discipline actually scares me because I have not always been like this.  Comparing my earlier years and the present me, I find it astonishing that I am of the same person.  How I know this is simple:  I was capable of waking up at 5am to study despite my sleepiness and was determined to finish a project way before the due date.  Now, I am this sloggish person who even struggle to wake up before 11am and is guilty of late submission of assignments.

This has become a worry to me because it seems like my determination in life has left me and need it for my career development.  Yet, I do not know how to bring it back.  I thought that inspirations, setting goals and substantial planning should bring it back; but determination is determined to leave me estranged.

What had I done wrong?  Was I looking at the wrong places?  Perhaps determination and discipline are lovers and decided to eloped because I was such a harsh person on myself.  I must had been a crappy boss.

Whichever the case, at least I know this as a problem and will have to find solutions to this haphazard side of me.  However, I wonder, how long more before I somehow destroy my future?

Why Literature?

Once again, I was tempted; I held it in my hands, admiring its beauty and imagining the pleasure it would bring forth if I were to fall into temptation.  The price is reasonably cheap for the quality; after hearing so much about it, I know it would not fail me, it would not disappoint me and more likely to exceed my expectation.

But alas, I decided against it; because I know I would neglect it for a long time to come, especially since I already have a long list to look into. 

 I put Homer’s The Odyssey back to the shelf where I have found it.  

I must confess that I am guilty of being a greedy bookworm for buying more than I can really read.  At home, I am guilty of depriving Dracula, Count of Monte Cristo, Lolita, The Bleak House, Pride and Prejudice, Through the Looking-Glass, The Polished Hoe and so forth of their privilege of being read.  For some of them, I was half way through before I stopped reading and forgot where I stopped.  Knowing myself, I would only add The Odyssey to the list.  The other possible victims that had tempted me over and over again are Hunchback of Notre Dame, The Great Gatsby, The Beach, Plato, The Volcano, Animal Farm and a whole range of Haruki Murakami’s books.  I’m sure there are more, especially since Penguin publications started the cheap paperback.  I just can’t help it; I love books, particularly literature.

Quite recently, someone asked me why I read more on literature and not read more on the modern fiction.  The reason is simple:  It is because I don’t know which modern fiction is worth the while to read nowadays.  I am glad I read To Save a Drowning Fish, Ninety Eighty Four, The Unbearable Lightness of Being, Candle Life, The God of Small Things and The Line of Beauty; yet I had my stroke of bad luck when I stumbled upon Sidney Sheldon’s books and a few others that I can’t remember who wrote them.  How some of them become bestseller still remains a mystery to me.  The add more to the damage of modern fiction is the current marketing hype on the Harry Potter series, Dan Brown’s books and the Twilight series.  While everyone are jumping around in excitement about these books (and movies, come to think of it), I didn’t find them all that new since I read more than just books – I read comics and mangas too. Harry Potter seemed like a positive spin off of Groosham Grange; the twilight series reminds me of the numerous romantic vampire mangas that I read; Dan Brown’s books, well, I can’t really comment on this since I have not actually read any them even though I borrowed The Da Vinci Code from the library five times and could not get past the tenth page – I shall spare his books for now. 

While it is arguable that Literature is just as marketed as the modern fiction, Literature is the one that stood through time.  Even after being published for centuries, they are still the classics that people refer to and even make references to it.  What’s more, I love the timeline and culture that the books were able to encapsulate within its pages; the effort the authors went through to pen down their imagination and the description of the situation.  Personally, my favourite publication is Penguin publication simply because of the introduction they offer at the beginning of the book.  Most people told me to skip it since they are likely to have spoilers; however, I find that I admire the contents more when I know more about the author and the culture.  For instance, I would not have enjoyed reading Alexander Dumas’  The Black Tulip if I had not understood the Dutch’s obsession of growing tulips that was mentioned in the introduction and the political situation at the time.  As we are already living in a different era from the time the books were written, the lack of understanding would only prove our ignorance of the timeline that it was written.  Of course, there is always Wikipedia but how reliable can it be?

Besides the capture of rich history within the pages, I find Literature to be more philosophical than the modern fiction.  In my definition of good books, a good book  will not just entertain you; it will make you think even after you finish reading it.  George Orwell’s Ninety Eighty Four clearly reflects on possible political and social situation that is in fact already happening in a more subtle way than the book.  What can the absolute control gain?  How much can you impose on another person?  How much freedom can you take away?  Are we free to think and express ourselves?  In Unbearable Lightness of Being, what is burden and the lightness?  Is what we want, truly lightness?  Can lightness be a burden instead?  Wisdom, I believe is not only sought through one’s experience but can be found in many areas in life, even in the imagination of the authors. 

I shall end my pen here.  I shall reiterate that there are many more classics I want to read; but for now, I should concentrate on those poor few that are neglected in my bed chamber.  Ah, did I just say bed chamber?

It is OK to Comment

I just thought I should at least say that it is OK to comment as long as it is relevant.  I won’t bite and I will try not to freak out.  Don’t be shy. 

Spamming isn’t welcome though.

Epileptic Motherboard

Dear old colleague:

Before I start, I like to apologise for ignoring your condition for so long.  I sort of knew about it since early August; but I did not really want to acknowledge it since we worked together for so long.  I didn’t want to believe that I am at risk of losing you soon especially since I know you did a thorough health check and a minor surgery in mid-June.  Instead, I chose to be in denial; believing that it was just a small problem.

Truth is, I was hoping you can stay with me until at least the end of the semester.  I was planning to send you to a special therapy that can help improve your capabilities and sponsor you on going on a special surgery to replace those faulty organs in you.  The reason I didn’t do it sooner is because of the current global financial crisis that limits our cashflow.  Moreover, the tremondous work load we are facing that makes scheduling harder.  Hence, day and night, I prayed that you will not collapse on the job and be strong enough to pull through.

Obviously, it was nothing more but wishful thinking.

I tried to keep you longer on the job by letting you rest more and do less work.  I even employed Jackie, the tiny guy to be my sidekick and do part of your job.  Although I know you didn’t like it very much and you were perhaps afraid of losing your job; I hope you understand I have intentions of promoting you further.  I see you as someone with great value.

Yet, your epileptic episodes have become more frequent within the short few months.  What used to be short and brief has become long and chronic.  Finally, today, your body gave in and that you end up in coma.  No matter how many CPRs I gave you, you won’t regain conscious.  I could not rush you to hospital because I know you don’t have health insurance to even secure you the emergency treatment that you require.  I know you find this hard to imagine, I was, in fact, in complete loss without you.

I have a lot of regrets about my treatment towards you now.  I started to wish that I sent you to surgery and treatment earlier.  Also, I wish I treated you better, not wait until end of the semester.  I was too naive that you would pull through despite witnessing your ailing day after day.

Now it’s too late; you are in coma and there is nothing I can do about it, especially at these busy period when I need you the most.

Jackie is taking over your job for the time being.  He is still a rookie;  there are many things that you can do but he can’t because of his limited physical capabilities.  Nothing is the same without you.

I’ll miss you much, old colleague.  For now, I’ll just let you have a good rest; I hope you have a nice dream.  At the mean time, I’ll save up to bring you back.  When you finally wake up, I hope you will still remember me.  If you do, will you forgive me for everything I have done?

Miss you, goodbye for now.

Sincerely

Raven

NOTE:  Inspired by my desktop that is in coma state; my notebook is taking over its job temporarily.

Childhood Memories of Mid-Autumn Festival

“因為今天是中秋節, 校長宣佈今天只上半天”, the teacher announced.

At the time, as one of the kids educated in a chinese primary school known as a tough school with lots of homework, we cheered at the news.  For those who can’t read chinese, the translation is “Since today is mid-autumn festival, the principal has announced that school will finish early today”.

Chinese schools, at the time, were known for intensive classes and consistently bombarding children with homework.  There were even extra classes during school holidays, particularly for children with demanding parents and children who were not particular bright.  As for my case, I was one of those kids who was not smart enough to excel in my studies.  The school did not just focus on studies; discipline was a very important element that gave the school a strong reputation.  Didn’t do your homework?  Whack! Fail your test?  Whack! Talk in class?  Whack! Can’t get the answer right?  Whack!

Canning was allowed in those days.  Although there was awareness of child abuse in schools and homes, canning was not included in the list of physical abuse as long as it does not cause severe physical damage.  Honestly, I never saw it as a form of abuse; possibly because I was canned many times as a child for being a dumb, forgetful and lazy kid that I developed immunity to it.  Yet, I was not naughty so that was what the teachers gave me credit for.

Enough of my childhood education history.  As you can see what kind of school it was, such generous offer of having a early day off from school was considerably unusual.  Truth was, the announcement was made earlier in the week; but some kids might have forgotten to tell their parents about it.  By recess time, you would see a long queue of children lining up to use the public pay phone to call their parents.  In those days, handphones were just emerging with Ericsson as the pioneer.  However, only the very rich could afford to have one.  Morever, the handphones were not as slick or adorable like the current phones; it was huge, bulky and you can drop it on the ground many times and not afraid that it would break.  As you can imagine, children of my days were a lot less technological smart than the current children.  We were, afterall, in the mercy of the pay phone.

As I said earlier, I was a forgetful kid; so I obviously did not tell my mother about the early day off.  I was one of those children who lined up to give her a call.

However, my brother who attended the same school was a smart kid.

So, I guess you figured that my time and effort to give her a call was pointless.  She just laughed and said that she knew about it.  At the time, she would correct me that I should be referring mid-autumn festival as 中秋節, not as 月餅節 (Mooncake festival).

I can not remember if she was early or late in fetching my brother and I on days like that.  Nevertheless, it was common that she would be very late in doing so.  Quite often, my brother and I were one of the last few children stranded around the campus after school.  I recalled vividly that we waited for her for three or more hours.  Mind you, the school campus was not exactly a safe place as there were perverts who hide in the female toilets for whatever reason.  This resulted in safety protocols such as female students must go to toilet in pairs and locking up the toilet after school had finished for a few hours.I think it is because of this experience that I generally do not like to hold back parents who have to fetch their children from school; if your kids just finished school, just go, don’t make them wait – because it is not a nice feeling.

When my brother and I reached home, my family would start digging out the lanterns from the cupboards or boxes of toys, depending on which one at the time.  I remember one of my siblings would search for candles and matches or try to fix the lanterns if it were broken.  I, as the youngest, had little clue on what to do; but I know one thing:  I liked the whole process of it.

After dinner, we would go out to the street to meet our neighbours with our lanterns.  It was an annual neighbourhood activity to tour around the whole neighbourhood with our lanterns.  Even though I did not understand the reason for such activity, I enjoyed it as a kid.  I remember there were bound to be a couple of neighbourhood children with fancy looking lanterns while mine looked extraordinarily ordinary.  I would envy for them for a while; but I would be later be distracted by my fascination of the  light emitting from my own lantern.

Despite the stray dogs roaming around, the mosquitoes, the dog shit on the pavements and street and the passing cars, we marched around the neighbourhood as one large group.  The lanterns light the way, we carry them with pride; there was nothing to fear in this dark night.  We were just a group of people simply doing the same thing.

After we finished our walk, we would retire to our homes.  We blow out the candles, remove the candles from the lanterns, put the lantern to where it was stored and wait for another year before it was taken out to use again.

It was an annual ritual, there was no question about it.  We had been doing it before I could remember the first time I joined them as an infant.

Nevertheless, there came a year when it suddenly vanished.  There was no warning, no sign to show that it would end abruptly.  Perhaps, as a dumb kid at the time, I did not notice the dwindling number of participants year by year or unwilling neighbours in joining the march. However, I only know that it suddenly stopped.  That year, the same principal’s announcement to have an early day off, the day that my brother and I were able to head home early, we realised that no one went to look for the lanterns in the box or cupboard.  No candle searching, no matches to strike; none of it.

Confused by the sudden lack of activity, I asked my mother, “Mummy, aren’t we going to go out with our lanterns tonight?”

“Huh?  You are such a big girl now, you still want to do things like that?”

I think I was nine or ten years old, definitely not eleven or twelve years old.  As a child, I felt a bit stung by those words as if to say that I had just been disqualified from something because of my age.

I was too old to walk around the neighbourhood with my lantern.

That night, I remember looking out of the house onto the street in hope that I would find a group of people walking past with their lanterns.  I thought that I might be able to join them if they came by.  However, it was quiet; there was none that night.

The neighbourhood ritual died.

***

A decade or so passed by since then.  On this day of mid-autumn festival, I was in the library preparing for a coming exam with my friends.  Maybe this year I did not celebrate it or I was fully aware that it was mid-autumn festival for once or I did not consume any mooncake (which I hadn’t for years actually), this fond childhood memory emerged itself from the layers and layers of memories that I stored away in the attic, forgotten for years.  I usually do not feel nolstalgic about my childhood because I never really saw the big deal about it.  From my childhood days, I already know that children are not exactly innocent; humans, young and old, are very political creatures.  Quite often, you will find that the current politics in a group are similar to children’s politics with the exception that adults’ politics are more complicated, discreet and sophisicated.

Yet, this memory of touring the neighbourhood with lanterns, is one of the rare few memory gems that I really cherished. No amount of money can buy this; it is just simply priceless.

This is Boring

To be honest to whoever has been following my blog lately, I must admit that this blog has not been entertaining a all. It can’t be helped; I am currently stressed with whatever that is going on for now. I like to write something really interesting. There were two things that came in mind; but knowing myself, I would take 2-3 hours to write them down. Just bear with me for now.