just minishorts.

I think I'm going to write a book about this one day, one day when I leave. Day after day after day I get the strangest of questions, strangest of observations, strangest of comments, strangest of suggestions.

Like this one:

'I wanted to ask you, you know? How do you order food from a caterer?'

'Errr… you pick up the phone and call the caterer lah.'

I thought some would have been offended by my answer. But then came the next question:

'What do you say on the phone?'

Every single day. Something. Its getting on my nerves, but then it is also really, really hilarious and, cracks me up, every single day. I love it. I hate it. I don't know. It's so sad and yet it's so funny at the same time. I need to get this right, I have to, have to save the day, like a mad hatter with a superhero complex, I MUST save the day, but this is so freaking ridiculous, the kind of things I get thrown at me, the kind of strange suggestions, like, 'maybe we should ask the hotel to buy the cake from the shop for us and then we buy the cakes from the hotel so that  we can cut costs and payment can be cleared easily.'

You wanna go WTF but you can't. I wanna say WTF but I can't.

To be honest, I hate this need to justify my actions. I know the rationale, you can't define another person's experiences of you, and I can't define or tell you exactly why I do what I do, you will decide for yourself, and best of all, you will judge based on what your worldview tells you what people are like – just like how I formulate MY opinions on people (friends included), totally, completely, based on what my moral compass tells me how things should be like.

And there's me. Ms know-it-all, Ms I-have-an-opinion, Ms I'll-be-damned-if-I-don't-tell-you-just-how-you-should-behave. That's me. Whoever you are, people I know, people I don't know, I will have an opinion about you, and if I have the opportunities to reach out to you, I will tell you just what I think about you, about your actions, about what you do means to me. I can either tell it to you straight, or if I think its just pointless to engage you one-on-one (because I am uninterested in argumentative conversations), I will say it, somewhere. And sometimes, I say it here.

Whether you get it or not, that has nothing to do with me, I do not exist to tell you that my advice is God-sent and you should take it. It's just another take on things, and I say it here in my space because to me, that is where it will end. And it is for you to take it if you see it, or to leave it, either that, or you can completely miss the point, and I won't care either.

***

But apparently, according to the recent feedback I've received, apparently, I cannot have an opinion. Not even in my own space. Apparently, if I have an opinion, I have to tell it to that person in person, if I have the guts. Apparently, if I have an opinion that is harsh, unkind, and uncaring, I'm a hypocrite, and I am more of an enemy than of a friend. Apparently, if I have an opinion about someone who in my opinion is famous, I am 'JEALOUS'.

So you know what I think? You guys have ridiculous logics.  For fucks sake it's not like I went to some doctor to verify that my opinions are truly just. Cheh, I'm just another no-brainer down the road who has a position on certain matters, and you know that, I decided because I'm not interested in having people concur with me, I will just blog about it in my blog lah.

But apparently, I am a bitch anyway. So if I engage and argue with you I'm a bitch. If I talk to myself here, I'm a bitch. I wanna to write about it, I'm a bitch. I don't wanna write about it, I'm also a bitch (because there are people who will say crap like 'I wonder what she thinks of it'. I don't bother about things, I'm a bitch. I'm connected to a bitch, I'm a bitch. Crap concept I tell you.

***

I HAVE ALWAYS BEEN AN OPINIONATED MIS-ALIGNED, CONFUSED PRICK, or to some people, I've always been that person who will have an opinion that makes sense and sounds reasonable. I'm either your cup of tea, or I'm your cup of poison. You don't like poison, don't take it. You can bitch about the poison in your own space, but if you come near the poison and keep scolding the poison, the cup of poison is not going to turn into sweet nectar anytime soon.

You've had it your way, I'll have it mine. We're even. If you have a problem with that, my response is: okay. It doesn't mean I'll do something to react to you. If I react, its a reaction. If I don't react, its a reaction as well, and my reaction might not be in your favour. If my reaction doesn't please you and you feel upset about it, make a choice and don't come near this cup of poison anymore lah.

But btw, feel very free to go bitch about how my hypocrisy irks you. Just don't expect me to turn into some saintly unhypocritical Goddess anytime soon.

I don't always respond to chats on here. But some people don't understand why I do what I do, why I write what I write… and then, someone took the trouble to tell me that when I write stuff that's 'too deep', people don't understand and that they just don't get it.

You should have read the posts I wrote when I started off this exercise over five years ago. Man were they even more cryptic and completely pointless. Haha.

Anyway, that's the point of this. It's not for you to get it. Its for me to let my 'stuff' out, and that's what its really about it.

Midnight. It's been ages since I did this – log in in the middle of the night and start writing down all the things that's flowing out of the top of my head. These months have been strangely different, yet strangely comforting. So it's true, I'm growing into the shoes I told myself that I could wear eventually, and they're getting to be quite comfortable.

Is this me? I am who I choose to be, of course, and then I do believe that you create your own destiny in the piece of paper that God gives to you as your life.

…

The analogy of life, in my eyes is like this. When I was born, I was born into a piece of art block – my life. The colours on it, the strokes that I allow on it, the pictures that will appear to narrate the tales of my life, that's completely up to my free will. I'm safe because I'm within the boundaries of my very own God-given art block, and it's a huge piece of paper, this life. The coolest thing is, I've only just completed 1/4 of the painting, or is it just 1/40? I don't really know. When this life is over, my life will be another one of those fantastic masterpieces in God's humongous gallery.

Hebat kan? The imagery that arrives in the middle of the night. I'm odd like that. This is probably the reason why when I was in publishing, I use to enjoy the long nights and the late mornings, because being the owl I am, my brain clocks in its imaginative works the moment midnight falls.

…

I'm still in Kota Bharu, dreading the next day. If I could I would still time and wish that this moment would never end, time would stop moving, and I could be here on holiday forever. It's fun also because Eric is next door snoring (we can't share a room yet, next year maybe), and I'm not entirely looking forward to tomorrow's flight home (because home – KL – means works).

Perhaps it's no accident that as I type that I'm listening to Delirious's Miracle Maker. It's an amazing song, seriously, you don't have to be Christian to love the song, whoever you believe God to be, the song is an apt tune of praise. This is probably the first video I've pasted on this blog in years.

Sigh LOVE these songs! Why did they have to be 'Christian'? OK… no need to be Christian also can enjoy the song okay… and seriously, don't blame the Charismatics for being 'weird' people who only will listen to Praise and Worship. With songs like this, who needs Madonna?