just minishorts.

What I did.

Something.

Why.

Because it was necessary.

Really? You could have opted to ignore and let things go on.

Situations? YOU don't know the situation. It's not just about knocking on doors. Its about confusion and half broken slits through the doors, where the damp air seeps through and causes an uncomfortable mix of 'you-dunno-what'.

Of course she knows a lot of people read this. In that sense, its both a blessing, and a disguise.

So this was what happened. She opted NOT to ignore anymore, instead, she decided to take the bull by its horns and look it straight in the eye.

'This. This. What do you want? Honestly I don't even know what I want.'

And then. It's settled. Finally.

She can only hope it's settled.

Hopefully.

Really, hopefully.

Que sera, sera. The future's not ours to see.

I'll let you in to another secret. The I-ching? It's REALLY, REALLY accurate, if you are willing to take bad news as answers. And yeah. Destiny? It's really in your hands. It can give you bad news now, and that bad news MIGHT even mean forever, but a sudden breeze, and things can change. It can give you good news too, and that good news even suggests forever, but a sudden cough, and things twist for the worst.

That's life. That's life.

Whatever will be will be, que sera sera.

Let me let you into a little well-known secret about girls who are born in my mold.

Our doors are never completely closed. We say the door is completely closed, but nah… we don't usually tutup ketat-ketat.

You see, people like minishorts believes in many second chances. We've gone through times and times where we've seen, that the sweetest success often comes after the conquering of an extremely difficult-to-climb mountain. In that sense, yes, I'm a pretty forgiving person, both towards myself, and towards the people in my life.

I had a conversation with a high school friend who's currently undergoing a relationship estrangement right now.

Him: I wish my girlfriend were like you now?
Me: Like me? What's so nice about me?
Him: Giving second chances. That's what you're doing.
Me: Second chances? Oh no. Not second chances. I'm not really dishing things out. Its just I don't believe in closing doors.
Him: She's closed the doors.
Me: How'd you know that?
Him: The way she's said things.
Me: You think so only. Maybe she didn't close the doors. Let me tell you a thing about girls, the doors aren't ever closed. At least. If I know your girlfriend from the short conversations I used to have with her a long time ago, I don't think she's the type to close the doors completely. In fact, I think she's a softer person than I am.
Him: You're really a girl, you're soft hearted.
Me: OF course I'm a girl. I can't be a guy, can I? I'm not really soft-hearted. I'm just human.
Him: Hmmm…?
Me: Like you're human? You know she's hurting you too, but you still want her back? That's human. Its something God gave us, I guess. That capacity to forgive, and to forget, and to overcome boulders.
Him: Deep…
Me: Me ah… crazy already. It's MY YEAR lah… year of the Monkey. You grow up when you hit two dozen years on earth.
Him: So? You're saying her door's not locked.
Me: She's human. The locks won't be there forever anyway. Sometimes, all you have to do is knock on the door… a few times… be sincere in your persistence.

It's true. Doors are hardly locked, unless you really fade into oblivion. Of course, you're not supposed to pry on a temporarily-locked door with crowbars, or kick apart a closed door. All it usually takes, are sincere gestures of *knock knock*. Girls like me, we will usually ask, 'Who's there?'

And you've just got to take it from there. Simple.

…is such an amazingly interesting thing. When you want it around, the sparks don't ever seem to officiate… but when you want to chase them away, its fireworks all over, again and again.

*Grumble*

Mantra of the months will be: ignore, ignore, ignore, ignore.

I'm a strong girl. You shall not affect me in anyway. Anyway I don't want no botak tree when there are far bigger and sturdier trees in the forest.

I was looking through old photos and I came up with this!!! Taken in 1998.

The guy's an American-born Indian, if not mistaken his name is Rumi. We were doing this talkshow together (yes I was a host of a teenage political observer programme) and this was taken during break-time!!

Have I been overposting?

I wonder.

Have I been sending mixed signals?

I wonder.

You'd wonder what she's thinking. What's happening. What, as Sharon asked, what's with the mess?

So I'm telling you now: what's mess? What mess are you talking about? There's no mess. It's just me, myself and minishorts. A perception is such because you choose to perceive. An impression is such, because you choose to impress it upon yourself as such.

For example. A smile. If I smile, I feel happy, therefore I'm happy. A tear, if I tell myself I need to cry to let it out, and I focus on getting that out, then I will get it out. Love, if I tell myself that I love, then I love. If I tell myself that I don't love, then I don't love. Missing you, if I choose to tell myself that I miss you, then I miss you. Same thing, if I tell myself that you miss me, then you miss me. It's the simple 'truth prophecy' that educators all love to talk about. 'Tell a kid that he's stupid, then he's stupid. Tell a kid that he's smart, he will be smart.'

So. Like in The Matrix, 'There is no spoon.'

I can say this, 'There is no mess.'

And I actually believe it. Nice, eh?