Thursday, August 23, 2007
Walking on Tight Rope
Now I am getting paranoid.
My heart was doing fine for the past three days. It was just beginning to calm down.
But today it has resumed its irregular beating and again my chest get tightened every so often at the thought of some person and imaginary going ons. I swear if I take my blood pressure now, it must read awfully high.
I was telling the Old Boy today that I really think I need professional help.
Then he cautioned me that he knew of some psychologists who might take advantage of my vulnerable stage, especially if I am “so sexy” and if I bare my life story and situation to the psychologist.
So you mean there is no one that I can trust and seek independent opinion from?
Yup.
But they are professionals! So who can I go to?
No one but your older sibling.
Hence, I am getting hesitant although I am aware that I might experience yet another break down like last week and I am going to be in my frail state for a long time until I finally seek some form of solace and do a major overhaul to my emotional state. I can really sense that my own dormant volcano is steadily being stoked to awake ness and is all ready to erupt uncontrollably
The past two weeks, the character of Esther in Sylvia Plath’s The Bell Jar kept replaying itself in my mind. I truly understand how depression can thwart a person’s entire being and disposition and drive a person to commit self-destructive acts.
After all, you can never reason with a lunatic as with a drunk. A depressive maniac is trapped in his or her own dukka and there is no extracting the person out of his or her own misery. Only the Self can seek to heal itself. The first step to healing, I suppose is to be aware.
I have awareness but I lack clarity and I suspect my Ego is the cause of my depression. I desperately need to get to the next step to help myself heal. I don’t think I have it in me to do it alone.
Professional help, I keep telling myself is the way to go.
But Old Boy has played the Devil’s Advocate and now I am getting paranoid. I don’t need this now and it has led me to be truly hesitant to proceed with counseling after his words.
I am shaking and my skin is breaking out in goose bumps at the thought of my visit to the psychologist and the consequences of being in the care of an unprofessional and unethical individual.
Now I am wondering if there might be any hope and healing remedy for me?
Now I am getting paranoid.
My heart was doing fine for the past three days. It was just beginning to calm down.
But today it has resumed its irregular beating and again my chest get tightened every so often at the thought of some person and imaginary going ons. I swear if I take my blood pressure now, it must read awfully high.
I was telling the Old Boy today that I really think I need professional help.
Then he cautioned me that he knew of some psychologists who might take advantage of my vulnerable stage, especially if I am “so sexy” and if I bare my life story and situation to the psychologist.
So you mean there is no one that I can trust and seek independent opinion from?
Yup.
But they are professionals! So who can I go to?
No one but your older sibling.
Hence, I am getting hesitant although I am aware that I might experience yet another break down like last week and I am going to be in my frail state for a long time until I finally seek some form of solace and do a major overhaul to my emotional state. I can really sense that my own dormant volcano is steadily being stoked to awake ness and is all ready to erupt uncontrollably
The past two weeks, the character of Esther in Sylvia Plath’s The Bell Jar kept replaying itself in my mind. I truly understand how depression can thwart a person’s entire being and disposition and drive a person to commit self-destructive acts.
After all, you can never reason with a lunatic as with a drunk. A depressive maniac is trapped in his or her own dukka and there is no extracting the person out of his or her own misery. Only the Self can seek to heal itself. The first step to healing, I suppose is to be aware.
I have awareness but I lack clarity and I suspect my Ego is the cause of my depression. I desperately need to get to the next step to help myself heal. I don’t think I have it in me to do it alone.
Professional help, I keep telling myself is the way to go.
But Old Boy has played the Devil’s Advocate and now I am getting paranoid. I don’t need this now and it has led me to be truly hesitant to proceed with counseling after his words.
I am shaking and my skin is breaking out in goose bumps at the thought of my visit to the psychologist and the consequences of being in the care of an unprofessional and unethical individual.
Now I am wondering if there might be any hope and healing remedy for me?
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
Missing the Boat
How often does one get a second chance when one misses the boat?
I say almost never.
How often would one get it the third time if one have missed the cue twice before?
I say never again. After all, things tend to come in threes- good or bad.
****
The past two weeks came and went.
I met Nano once. Yes, only once.
He didn’t even text me to say goodbye. He just left and I didn’t ask what time his plane departed either.
Then I was also suffering from my frail nerves.
****
Last week, my frail nerves nearly took me to my emotional limit. I thought I was going to cut DL off for good.
Nano was still in the same city as I.
He knew I didn’t go to work last Wednesday. But he didn’t bother to ask why.
Nano could have played the Knight in Shining Armour.
Any chance that we might catch up before you leave?
It was last Thursday evening and he was due to leave on Saturday. It was my seven-year anniversary with DL. Neither DL nor I called or texted each other. Our cold war ensued.
Not sure…
Never mind then. I meant to tell you something important.
No reply.
Just as well, another de-tox.
****
Last night, I was in good enough spirits. DL and I had a hearty Korean dinner and we drank enough soju to keep me sufficiently tipsy and light-hearted. We laughed a lot, mainly by overhearing the familiarity of Singaporean accents from the next table from us. One of the guys talking in typical “Ah Beng” slang and using colloquial words of expression unique to our little island. I almost forgot some of these terms and DL reminded me how they could be used and we had hell of a great time. I almost felt at home again.
Much later, whilst we got home, I received a text.
What was it that you want to tell me?
Now don’t worry about it.
Sorry mate, too late. Third time.
*****
First Miss
First time in Manila on a Friday evening, he missed my cue about hanging out at the Embassy on Saturday night. He wanted to go to the beach with his friends instead. When he came back on a Sunday and decided to hang out and have dinner, Ted and I had it going the night before already. Hence, my time with Nano was curtailed as my entourage consisting of Ted and his sidekicks came to extract me from my dinner.
That first night, I was attracted to his aura. It was that air of aloofness about him that caught my attention. Perhaps since he was the only full blooded white boy in the party that made him all the more prominent. I deliberately got rid of the gigantic floral arrangement that separated our faces across the table so that I could further engage him in our interaction. Later, I noticed that he was silently watching me through the smoky cloud of his lighted cigarette and that was when I knew I got him attracted! I then created opportunities for him to fetch me a drink and asked charmingly if he could be kind enough to be a gentleman. Instead, he told me, he barely knew me. The friend in his group who was waiting for every opportunity to jump in did so and on top of that, Nano got this friend to also fetch him another bottle while the friend was at his service for me! I thought he was either too “wet” or too chauvinistic for my liking…
“I was attracted to you that night we met.”
“Didn’t I try giving you a chance to get to know me?
Remember I got you to get me a drink and you said you barely knew me. It wasn’t as if you needed to buy me one since it was for free and anyway, it wasn’t my style to ask someone to buy me a drink in the first place…”
“I am sorry P. I was being stupid…”
“Then I also kept asking you if you wanted to join me at Embassy the following night…”
“But you must know that I don’t like to hang out at those type of places. I would have invited you to my house for drinks instead if I didn’t go to the beach. I am so stupid. Anyway now I feel I shouldn’t have go to Tagaytay the next day…”
*****
Second Miss
When I was in a lethal combo crisis, having been assaulted emotionally on both the professional and personal fronts, someone happened to be in a great mood.
He decided he would like to get on with playing with his Xbox II. He hoped that I would feel better later.
Again, I think I tried giving a second chance.
Much later after a period of no communication post the above incident, there was an exchange of texts during one of my bold moments from tipsiness.
I nearly left him and I could have made you that lucky man as earlier promised.
I have been busy lately.
I have a good mind to say- The world don’t just wait for you, you know.
I often hear that line run through my head, especially when my thoughts used to turn to M frequently.
*****
I have experienced many a parting shot of tenderness, affection, angst with one too a many guys. Whatever emotions that the guy goes through must be for that moment. Yes, I would like to think so because they never telly up with one’s attitude or behaviour post the affair.
He is not that into me.
I will always repeat that to myself after each experience and I would brace myself with each chant of that phrase in my head with my usual smile.
B has warned me too many times to never crystalise any of those parting memories in my mind. She is the Queen of Selective Memory. She holds little regard for most people and things and remembers dimly or very little of ex-flings or grey arrangements because she has taught me that the most important thing is the Self. She genuinely mastered the art of forgetfulness and sometimes my super memory of her history fazed her. But her way to cope is in conflict with my Buddhist philosophy towards life, which is about practicing to free oneself from one’s Ego.
At least, I am not dwelling so much in memory. Live and let live. That must at least be a positive step.
*****
He sure knows how to wipe his mouth after he eats.
Old Boy made the above comment yesterday.
*****
Times like this I wonder, did he really miss my boat?
Or is he playing dumb and turns out to be the sly guy who got away?
How often does one get a second chance when one misses the boat?
I say almost never.
How often would one get it the third time if one have missed the cue twice before?
I say never again. After all, things tend to come in threes- good or bad.
****
The past two weeks came and went.
I met Nano once. Yes, only once.
He didn’t even text me to say goodbye. He just left and I didn’t ask what time his plane departed either.
Then I was also suffering from my frail nerves.
****
Last week, my frail nerves nearly took me to my emotional limit. I thought I was going to cut DL off for good.
Nano was still in the same city as I.
He knew I didn’t go to work last Wednesday. But he didn’t bother to ask why.
Nano could have played the Knight in Shining Armour.
Any chance that we might catch up before you leave?
It was last Thursday evening and he was due to leave on Saturday. It was my seven-year anniversary with DL. Neither DL nor I called or texted each other. Our cold war ensued.
Not sure…
Never mind then. I meant to tell you something important.
No reply.
Just as well, another de-tox.
****
Last night, I was in good enough spirits. DL and I had a hearty Korean dinner and we drank enough soju to keep me sufficiently tipsy and light-hearted. We laughed a lot, mainly by overhearing the familiarity of Singaporean accents from the next table from us. One of the guys talking in typical “Ah Beng” slang and using colloquial words of expression unique to our little island. I almost forgot some of these terms and DL reminded me how they could be used and we had hell of a great time. I almost felt at home again.
Much later, whilst we got home, I received a text.
What was it that you want to tell me?
Now don’t worry about it.
Sorry mate, too late. Third time.
*****
First Miss
First time in Manila on a Friday evening, he missed my cue about hanging out at the Embassy on Saturday night. He wanted to go to the beach with his friends instead. When he came back on a Sunday and decided to hang out and have dinner, Ted and I had it going the night before already. Hence, my time with Nano was curtailed as my entourage consisting of Ted and his sidekicks came to extract me from my dinner.
That first night, I was attracted to his aura. It was that air of aloofness about him that caught my attention. Perhaps since he was the only full blooded white boy in the party that made him all the more prominent. I deliberately got rid of the gigantic floral arrangement that separated our faces across the table so that I could further engage him in our interaction. Later, I noticed that he was silently watching me through the smoky cloud of his lighted cigarette and that was when I knew I got him attracted! I then created opportunities for him to fetch me a drink and asked charmingly if he could be kind enough to be a gentleman. Instead, he told me, he barely knew me. The friend in his group who was waiting for every opportunity to jump in did so and on top of that, Nano got this friend to also fetch him another bottle while the friend was at his service for me! I thought he was either too “wet” or too chauvinistic for my liking…
“I was attracted to you that night we met.”
“Didn’t I try giving you a chance to get to know me?
Remember I got you to get me a drink and you said you barely knew me. It wasn’t as if you needed to buy me one since it was for free and anyway, it wasn’t my style to ask someone to buy me a drink in the first place…”
“I am sorry P. I was being stupid…”
“Then I also kept asking you if you wanted to join me at Embassy the following night…”
“But you must know that I don’t like to hang out at those type of places. I would have invited you to my house for drinks instead if I didn’t go to the beach. I am so stupid. Anyway now I feel I shouldn’t have go to Tagaytay the next day…”
*****
Second Miss
When I was in a lethal combo crisis, having been assaulted emotionally on both the professional and personal fronts, someone happened to be in a great mood.
He decided he would like to get on with playing with his Xbox II. He hoped that I would feel better later.
Again, I think I tried giving a second chance.
Much later after a period of no communication post the above incident, there was an exchange of texts during one of my bold moments from tipsiness.
I nearly left him and I could have made you that lucky man as earlier promised.
I have been busy lately.
I have a good mind to say- The world don’t just wait for you, you know.
I often hear that line run through my head, especially when my thoughts used to turn to M frequently.
*****
I have experienced many a parting shot of tenderness, affection, angst with one too a many guys. Whatever emotions that the guy goes through must be for that moment. Yes, I would like to think so because they never telly up with one’s attitude or behaviour post the affair.
He is not that into me.
I will always repeat that to myself after each experience and I would brace myself with each chant of that phrase in my head with my usual smile.
B has warned me too many times to never crystalise any of those parting memories in my mind. She is the Queen of Selective Memory. She holds little regard for most people and things and remembers dimly or very little of ex-flings or grey arrangements because she has taught me that the most important thing is the Self. She genuinely mastered the art of forgetfulness and sometimes my super memory of her history fazed her. But her way to cope is in conflict with my Buddhist philosophy towards life, which is about practicing to free oneself from one’s Ego.
At least, I am not dwelling so much in memory. Live and let live. That must at least be a positive step.
*****
He sure knows how to wipe his mouth after he eats.
Old Boy made the above comment yesterday.
*****
Times like this I wonder, did he really miss my boat?
Or is he playing dumb and turns out to be the sly guy who got away?
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Taking a Step
I didn't go to work.
I am at home.
I woke up with a congested heart. A million thoughts flashing past my mind. My eyes brimming with tears.
I have just booked myself an appointment to see a doctor in the afternoon.
I hope I would abide to my appointment.
I am trying to take courage and ask for a recommendation to see a counselor/psychologist. I don't think I need a psychiatrist just yet.
Since I was a child, I have the ability to spot a lunatic on the streets from afar and would dodge them fervently from an immense fear for them. I often wonder what led them to how they are. Paris is definitely a city of mad men. Strangely, having come into contact on them on a daily basis on the streets and metro, that is one fear I still have never got over.
I hope I wouldn't snap and end up like them one day.
I didn't go to work.
I am at home.
I woke up with a congested heart. A million thoughts flashing past my mind. My eyes brimming with tears.
I have just booked myself an appointment to see a doctor in the afternoon.
I hope I would abide to my appointment.
I am trying to take courage and ask for a recommendation to see a counselor/psychologist. I don't think I need a psychiatrist just yet.
Since I was a child, I have the ability to spot a lunatic on the streets from afar and would dodge them fervently from an immense fear for them. I often wonder what led them to how they are. Paris is definitely a city of mad men. Strangely, having come into contact on them on a daily basis on the streets and metro, that is one fear I still have never got over.
I hope I wouldn't snap and end up like them one day.
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Hanging in There
My heart is still congested.
However, work was good today and I could manage to keep a smile and crack a joke or two.
I know I still need professional help.
Today is the older sibling’s big 30. She has gone to bed. We are throwing a party on Saturday and DL is supposed to be the main organiser.
By the way, this coming Thursday DL and I will be heading into our 7th year anniversary.
Talk about seven-year itch.
I pray and wish that he would not call me or remember.
Please do not come rock my boat when I feel quite resolute this time.
I need professional help- I know I must be conceding that this is my limit because I never believe in seeking help or talking to a shrink.
I fear the confrontation. But the longer I wait, the longer I bear my pain that has insidiously killed my being.
I am blocking thoughts of DL, Fluffball and any other fond memories.
Just now, I deleted all my smses on my phone- from cute lovey dovey messages from DL to scintillating messages from Nano to sweet messages from Ted to all other miscellaneous messages.
A clean slate is how I should start on
I have denied that major restructure for far too long. No, it cannot be done in piecemeal. It needs to be done with a shake up.
I fear for myself and what I can be capable of doing to me.
So I sit on the tight seat, vacillating between my desire to launch into an outbreak and end it with DL once and for all (dealing myself with what could be a potentially lethal blow) and praying that he’ll never call and that somehow he too would have telepathically caught on our own cues and too decided to call the whole thing off by drifting to a fade.
My heart is still congested.
However, work was good today and I could manage to keep a smile and crack a joke or two.
I know I still need professional help.
Today is the older sibling’s big 30. She has gone to bed. We are throwing a party on Saturday and DL is supposed to be the main organiser.
By the way, this coming Thursday DL and I will be heading into our 7th year anniversary.
Talk about seven-year itch.
I pray and wish that he would not call me or remember.
Please do not come rock my boat when I feel quite resolute this time.
I need professional help- I know I must be conceding that this is my limit because I never believe in seeking help or talking to a shrink.
I fear the confrontation. But the longer I wait, the longer I bear my pain that has insidiously killed my being.
I am blocking thoughts of DL, Fluffball and any other fond memories.
Just now, I deleted all my smses on my phone- from cute lovey dovey messages from DL to scintillating messages from Nano to sweet messages from Ted to all other miscellaneous messages.
A clean slate is how I should start on
I have denied that major restructure for far too long. No, it cannot be done in piecemeal. It needs to be done with a shake up.
I fear for myself and what I can be capable of doing to me.
So I sit on the tight seat, vacillating between my desire to launch into an outbreak and end it with DL once and for all (dealing myself with what could be a potentially lethal blow) and praying that he’ll never call and that somehow he too would have telepathically caught on our own cues and too decided to call the whole thing off by drifting to a fade.
Monday, August 13, 2007
SOS
I swear today I could have slashed my own wrists.
My heart has been congested since last night and is racing a thousand miles an hour.
I found myself taking many deep breaths at work today.
Today, the worst that could happen just happened.
First off, the passive bully colleague struck me again. She went round exclaiming I was pregnant. Just because I have been feeling nauseous and sick in the stomach of late.
Not funny. In fact, I was on the verge of tears. I thought she was highly unprofessional and she is my superior.
She fucking didn’t get my cue. Then she subtly dropped sarcasm about my competence in using the database.
Then at the meeting, the big boss looked at me and indicating that I haven’t been too on the ball with a job. That is to say, I am incompetent. I spent the rest of the day trying to fix things up and then I stared at more than 7000 names and tried to sieve out the ones that might be of interest to the boss.
Nano was cold on the phone too. Last night, after my blog entry, he went online and complained about his brother and then took off.
Nano is the least of my concerns at the moment.
At lunch, I rang DL to check on his day and his new interview. More discussion there about whether he should be accepting his only job offer that somehow led to an argument as I told him that he should better prioritise his life. He got mad that I must always organise everything for him and hung up on me. That was a first from him.
I felt I was getting short of breath as my heart started closing in on me. I was on the verge of tears and tore my headset off my ear, took a deep breath and headed for the ladies. I must have sat on the toilet seat for a good five minutes taking deep breaths, my eyes brimmed with tears and I stared at the floor.
The entire day, the team avoided communication with me like a plague and I kept to myself and my work. No one ever gives me any loving but when it’s each of them feeling lousy, everyone starts to shower one another with tender, loving and care. I have always been somewhat left out and somehow I know they seemed to take care to avoid me.
I think it might well be over with DL and me. I don’t know. I came home and broke down so hard in front of the older sibling.
She advised that I should really be seeing a counsellor. I have been a wreck for too long.
I swear today I feel I do need help. I am tired of my secret life, my crazy roller coaster emotional state of mind.
Today, my soul feels so claustrophobic that it just wants to get out of this earthly body.
SOS.
The image of slashed wrists kept flashing in my mind.
I almost feel my soul has transcended from my earthly body and is giving me a good shake me up to hold me together lest I really do something so silly.
No, I am still rationalising so maybe I might be safe for awhile…
But I fear the day where I reach my breaking point and my frail nerves will snap…
Someone, please take me to an asylum where I could get away from me…
I swear today I could have slashed my own wrists.
My heart has been congested since last night and is racing a thousand miles an hour.
I found myself taking many deep breaths at work today.
Today, the worst that could happen just happened.
First off, the passive bully colleague struck me again. She went round exclaiming I was pregnant. Just because I have been feeling nauseous and sick in the stomach of late.
Not funny. In fact, I was on the verge of tears. I thought she was highly unprofessional and she is my superior.
She fucking didn’t get my cue. Then she subtly dropped sarcasm about my competence in using the database.
Then at the meeting, the big boss looked at me and indicating that I haven’t been too on the ball with a job. That is to say, I am incompetent. I spent the rest of the day trying to fix things up and then I stared at more than 7000 names and tried to sieve out the ones that might be of interest to the boss.
Nano was cold on the phone too. Last night, after my blog entry, he went online and complained about his brother and then took off.
Nano is the least of my concerns at the moment.
At lunch, I rang DL to check on his day and his new interview. More discussion there about whether he should be accepting his only job offer that somehow led to an argument as I told him that he should better prioritise his life. He got mad that I must always organise everything for him and hung up on me. That was a first from him.
I felt I was getting short of breath as my heart started closing in on me. I was on the verge of tears and tore my headset off my ear, took a deep breath and headed for the ladies. I must have sat on the toilet seat for a good five minutes taking deep breaths, my eyes brimmed with tears and I stared at the floor.
The entire day, the team avoided communication with me like a plague and I kept to myself and my work. No one ever gives me any loving but when it’s each of them feeling lousy, everyone starts to shower one another with tender, loving and care. I have always been somewhat left out and somehow I know they seemed to take care to avoid me.
I think it might well be over with DL and me. I don’t know. I came home and broke down so hard in front of the older sibling.
She advised that I should really be seeing a counsellor. I have been a wreck for too long.
I swear today I feel I do need help. I am tired of my secret life, my crazy roller coaster emotional state of mind.
Today, my soul feels so claustrophobic that it just wants to get out of this earthly body.
SOS.
The image of slashed wrists kept flashing in my mind.
I almost feel my soul has transcended from my earthly body and is giving me a good shake me up to hold me together lest I really do something so silly.
No, I am still rationalising so maybe I might be safe for awhile…
But I fear the day where I reach my breaking point and my frail nerves will snap…
Someone, please take me to an asylum where I could get away from me…
Sunday, August 12, 2007
Deadline
I never seemed to overcome my ego.
I am beginning to be really, really sick and tired of myself.
For the past few days, I have felt the same feeling of discomfort, pain and congestion in my heart that I have experienced at the start of the year when things went under the table between the Big Boy and myself.
I am getting panicky again.
I cannot handle it. I cannot handle my life this way. I almost feel that I want out.
****
The other day, someone asked if I was misbehaving.
I said no- if he was asking if I got penetrated by Nano.
Yes, Nano is here. He stayed at my place for a night. It was supposed to be two but he cut it short at the last minute. Trouble brewing at home with his brother who lives here- he had to leave to attend to it immediately. That was the reason why he was sent here to make sure things didn’t screw up. So the dinner I booked for two on Thursday night got cancelled.
I happened to have called in sick on Thursday since I must have had one too a many to drink on Wednesday night when we were out with my friends for dinner and suffering from an irritable bowel. So we had the day to spend together. He spent most of the morning lazing in bed, alternating between cuddling me, kissing me and pleasuring me and drifting in and out of sleep. Between intervals, I went downstairs to my living room to be on the computer and chatted with my best friend who called and interrupted our moments of intimacy.
When we got home on Wednesday night, we spent many a moment on the couch drinking wine and slimming tea and laughing, talking about books, his life and mine and we must’ve have kissed there and then. He loved his Lao Fu Zi comic and I whipped out a copy that Big Tim bought me when I was in Hong Kong earlier this year. I thought it was funny that a white boy like him like his Chinese comics. He grew up attending a wealthy Chinese school, learning Chinese for a good thirteen years, reading traditional Chinese characters. Later, I noticed that it was 2.30a.m and decided it was time to head for the bed since I don’t do overly late nights too well on a school day and would be worried about work.
We talked and kissed in bed. For some reason, I recalled pinning him down and he was too weak to free himself from my tight embrace. He started laughing and told me about what his nan once said when she visited him. She looked at him and shook her head and then told him that he has grown too fat to get laid by girls. Even his father who is religious on his treadmill said so.
When we entered my bedroom laughing, he said,“Hey P, I know you are all about power right?” He was amused.
“Yeah,” He must have caught that on during the dinner conversation. My friends must have been on the topic of ambitions and one of them mentioned that I would probably build up my mini empire one day.
“Do you like me Nano?”
“Yes…”
“Why?”
“Because you are so funny and smart. And you remind me of myself.”
“Like how?”
“You are into money, money, money…”
“Hey P, if we ever end up together, you can go work and I’ll stay at home to look after the kids and walk the dog everyday. What say you?” He teased me.
“Crazy! No!”
“By the way, P… when I leave on Friday when you go to work, let’s wave at each other at the platform in the opposite directions…”
“Like why?”
“Because that’s how they always do it in the movies. It’s cool.”
“Silly boy.”
“Yes, I am a silly boy and I happen to like a smart girl like you.”
I pined him down at some stage and he exclaimed that I was too strong and he was too fat as he got strait-jacketed by my tight embrace. I growled at him and sunk my teeth into his chest.
He was thrilled.
****
Enough about Nano for the moment. My thoughts are jumbled. I cannot think straight.
The other week,Coolios who came to visit shared his experience with me about his ex-girlfriend.
He said we have similar symptoms. He thinks I am clinically depressed. He thinks DL and I need to see a relationship counsellor or I should go on medication.
He thinks we have an unhealthy relationship. He had a talk with DL, Coolios hinted of our undercurrent and DL’s private thoughts (which Coolios subtly alluded that he didn’t agree; we should really go for counsel, he urged).
We are good and bad for each other, Coolios conceded. Coolios is our long time friend. He knew about the Pandora’s box that thwarted our relationship.
“Imperfect perfect relationship, isn’t it?”
“Yes, I guess that’s the best to describe your relationship. You guys bring the best and worst out of each other.”
I don’t know anymore.
****
Ironically, Nano thought I was a free spirit.
We had some heartfelt conversation. But leave it for another day.
Anyway, he’ll never bend backwards for me.
I am a fine girl, he said. Smart, fun to be with, well-mannered and polite. Strange combination, I thought. He said I am very special to him.
When it was about time for him to go, I was sitting on top of him and we spent more time kissing. He looked at me intently and I looked at him. A few times, he seemed like he was going to open his mouth to say something to me, except at the last minute, he said nothing. Instead, he said the above words.
Then he asked if I have a digital camera. I said yes and then remember the memory was full and the camera mainly belongs to DL so I said no. He said forget it then. He was hoping to take a picture of the both of us for memory's sake.
Finally, he got out of bed and stood up first. I hugged him at his legs as I was still sitting on the bed. He pulled me to stand up and we hugged again.
Nano looked away, like something was pricking his eye. He began rubbing at it. I thought I recognised that look. He was trying to hold back what might possibly be tears.
So I walked him to the station, the train came, we kissed and he was gone.
He texted later to say he was sorry that our plans got skewed.
****
We have exchanged some smses since. At one stage, he wanted to smuggle me into his nan’s foreboding house where the ever loyal and vigilant housekeeper who have been at the family’s service for the past forty years kept watch. He texted me at Saturday morning at 2.30a.m saying that he wished I was here with him but he must have not found a way (or maybe he wasn’t committed in his endeavour enough) and we both fell asleep separately.
I think I missed him more than he misses me despite anything and everything.
I like to think so.
I haven’t heard from him. Yesterday, I called him and he didn’t seem too keen to talk.
It’s Sunday night today. He’ll be here for another six days. We might not meet. His baby brother comes first. He told me that we’re lucky that this last minute trip came up but it’s mainly to sort out his baby brother so it was good enough that we even got to spend time. He promised to be better company when I next visit Manila under a less stressful situation for him.
He is typical first kid, existing with the responsibility of old wealth. He is entrusted to undertake great things in life and he should never let his parents have any reason to worry for him and his competence. So he stays practical for the most part and is good at prioritisation. Affairs of the heart could possibly wait or take second place.
****
Tomorrow is a new week. I have set myself a deadline.
I will get over him by 12 mid-night tonight. I will not harbour any expectations for us to meet again in the coming days.
I am getting sick of my frail heart.
I should know better. If I couldn’t handle it, don’t fucking get started.
The next day, the Old Boy had to add salt to the wound that he thinks all the men in my life likes making use of me.
A good tight slap for me. He then apologised for being cutting.
I said, no that was what I needed. Besides, I have allowed it, I told him. No point blaming anyone and please no more sexual innuendos today, I continued. I just couldn't handle it.
When would I ever stop my errant ways?
I need to hang up my sails lest my depression overcomes me one day.
I fear the day where I stop loving and caring for myself, and where I will end up being like that man in my dream, being ever so resolute to end my life by adhering to the laws of gravity.
I never seemed to overcome my ego.
I am beginning to be really, really sick and tired of myself.
For the past few days, I have felt the same feeling of discomfort, pain and congestion in my heart that I have experienced at the start of the year when things went under the table between the Big Boy and myself.
I am getting panicky again.
I cannot handle it. I cannot handle my life this way. I almost feel that I want out.
****
The other day, someone asked if I was misbehaving.
I said no- if he was asking if I got penetrated by Nano.
Yes, Nano is here. He stayed at my place for a night. It was supposed to be two but he cut it short at the last minute. Trouble brewing at home with his brother who lives here- he had to leave to attend to it immediately. That was the reason why he was sent here to make sure things didn’t screw up. So the dinner I booked for two on Thursday night got cancelled.
I happened to have called in sick on Thursday since I must have had one too a many to drink on Wednesday night when we were out with my friends for dinner and suffering from an irritable bowel. So we had the day to spend together. He spent most of the morning lazing in bed, alternating between cuddling me, kissing me and pleasuring me and drifting in and out of sleep. Between intervals, I went downstairs to my living room to be on the computer and chatted with my best friend who called and interrupted our moments of intimacy.
When we got home on Wednesday night, we spent many a moment on the couch drinking wine and slimming tea and laughing, talking about books, his life and mine and we must’ve have kissed there and then. He loved his Lao Fu Zi comic and I whipped out a copy that Big Tim bought me when I was in Hong Kong earlier this year. I thought it was funny that a white boy like him like his Chinese comics. He grew up attending a wealthy Chinese school, learning Chinese for a good thirteen years, reading traditional Chinese characters. Later, I noticed that it was 2.30a.m and decided it was time to head for the bed since I don’t do overly late nights too well on a school day and would be worried about work.
We talked and kissed in bed. For some reason, I recalled pinning him down and he was too weak to free himself from my tight embrace. He started laughing and told me about what his nan once said when she visited him. She looked at him and shook her head and then told him that he has grown too fat to get laid by girls. Even his father who is religious on his treadmill said so.
When we entered my bedroom laughing, he said,“Hey P, I know you are all about power right?” He was amused.
“Yeah,” He must have caught that on during the dinner conversation. My friends must have been on the topic of ambitions and one of them mentioned that I would probably build up my mini empire one day.
“Do you like me Nano?”
“Yes…”
“Why?”
“Because you are so funny and smart. And you remind me of myself.”
“Like how?”
“You are into money, money, money…”
“Hey P, if we ever end up together, you can go work and I’ll stay at home to look after the kids and walk the dog everyday. What say you?” He teased me.
“Crazy! No!”
“By the way, P… when I leave on Friday when you go to work, let’s wave at each other at the platform in the opposite directions…”
“Like why?”
“Because that’s how they always do it in the movies. It’s cool.”
“Silly boy.”
“Yes, I am a silly boy and I happen to like a smart girl like you.”
I pined him down at some stage and he exclaimed that I was too strong and he was too fat as he got strait-jacketed by my tight embrace. I growled at him and sunk my teeth into his chest.
He was thrilled.
****
Enough about Nano for the moment. My thoughts are jumbled. I cannot think straight.
The other week,Coolios who came to visit shared his experience with me about his ex-girlfriend.
He said we have similar symptoms. He thinks I am clinically depressed. He thinks DL and I need to see a relationship counsellor or I should go on medication.
He thinks we have an unhealthy relationship. He had a talk with DL, Coolios hinted of our undercurrent and DL’s private thoughts (which Coolios subtly alluded that he didn’t agree; we should really go for counsel, he urged).
We are good and bad for each other, Coolios conceded. Coolios is our long time friend. He knew about the Pandora’s box that thwarted our relationship.
“Imperfect perfect relationship, isn’t it?”
“Yes, I guess that’s the best to describe your relationship. You guys bring the best and worst out of each other.”
I don’t know anymore.
****
Ironically, Nano thought I was a free spirit.
We had some heartfelt conversation. But leave it for another day.
Anyway, he’ll never bend backwards for me.
I am a fine girl, he said. Smart, fun to be with, well-mannered and polite. Strange combination, I thought. He said I am very special to him.
When it was about time for him to go, I was sitting on top of him and we spent more time kissing. He looked at me intently and I looked at him. A few times, he seemed like he was going to open his mouth to say something to me, except at the last minute, he said nothing. Instead, he said the above words.
Then he asked if I have a digital camera. I said yes and then remember the memory was full and the camera mainly belongs to DL so I said no. He said forget it then. He was hoping to take a picture of the both of us for memory's sake.
Finally, he got out of bed and stood up first. I hugged him at his legs as I was still sitting on the bed. He pulled me to stand up and we hugged again.
Nano looked away, like something was pricking his eye. He began rubbing at it. I thought I recognised that look. He was trying to hold back what might possibly be tears.
So I walked him to the station, the train came, we kissed and he was gone.
He texted later to say he was sorry that our plans got skewed.
****
We have exchanged some smses since. At one stage, he wanted to smuggle me into his nan’s foreboding house where the ever loyal and vigilant housekeeper who have been at the family’s service for the past forty years kept watch. He texted me at Saturday morning at 2.30a.m saying that he wished I was here with him but he must have not found a way (or maybe he wasn’t committed in his endeavour enough) and we both fell asleep separately.
I think I missed him more than he misses me despite anything and everything.
I like to think so.
I haven’t heard from him. Yesterday, I called him and he didn’t seem too keen to talk.
It’s Sunday night today. He’ll be here for another six days. We might not meet. His baby brother comes first. He told me that we’re lucky that this last minute trip came up but it’s mainly to sort out his baby brother so it was good enough that we even got to spend time. He promised to be better company when I next visit Manila under a less stressful situation for him.
He is typical first kid, existing with the responsibility of old wealth. He is entrusted to undertake great things in life and he should never let his parents have any reason to worry for him and his competence. So he stays practical for the most part and is good at prioritisation. Affairs of the heart could possibly wait or take second place.
****
Tomorrow is a new week. I have set myself a deadline.
I will get over him by 12 mid-night tonight. I will not harbour any expectations for us to meet again in the coming days.
I am getting sick of my frail heart.
I should know better. If I couldn’t handle it, don’t fucking get started.
The next day, the Old Boy had to add salt to the wound that he thinks all the men in my life likes making use of me.
A good tight slap for me. He then apologised for being cutting.
I said, no that was what I needed. Besides, I have allowed it, I told him. No point blaming anyone and please no more sexual innuendos today, I continued. I just couldn't handle it.
When would I ever stop my errant ways?
I need to hang up my sails lest my depression overcomes me one day.
I fear the day where I stop loving and caring for myself, and where I will end up being like that man in my dream, being ever so resolute to end my life by adhering to the laws of gravity.
Thursday, August 02, 2007
Stalk Keeper
I swear some days I feel like a stalker.
Every few days, I visit that blog site and get a piece of insight into his family life. The baby video clips that the Mrs. proudly posts regularly.
A very long time ago, I had envisioned what it was like to be his Mrs. It was simply because I thought we would yield good stock. Our kids would turn out good looking and intelligent enough with our combined powers and innate qualities.
I watched the baby grow as they mark the little milestones of her life captured on video from those first funny moments they encounter as new parents to her first signs of verbal expressions.
Today, I actually thought the baby is beginning to look half attractive. Previously, I did felt it was a pity that the little girl inherited nothing in the way of good features from her good-looking father. She was through and through her mother’s daughter- an imprint. I wasn't being partial but perceived my observations as a "fact" from the discernment of my quietly critical "cosmetic surgeon" eye. B and Dee Dee also did separately said the same thing without me pointing that out to them. What a waste of his good stock is what B criticise harshly.
Just now, I heard his voice on video for the first time.
It must be a good eleven years now since we have last spoken.
Funnily, I didn’t recognise him instinctively.
He mustn’t mean too much to me now then, must he?
We existed together in that era before we held pagers, mobile phones or corresponded by emails. Those days were eons ago and my memories of our joint moments have since been mished mashed to summate the thematic recollection of happiness. Memory snap shots of our joint happy moments where we loved and lusted boldly, recklessly and passionately epitomising youth, have thus found lucidity in the happy spot of my memory bank.
It is a new century and we have thus lived separately a few more new chapters since.
I looked at those pictures and video clips with a strange feeling, wondering why I am re-visiting the blog site again and again.
We had a connection a long time ago, actually we did have a very strong chemistry. But now he does looks like a stranger to me. He dons the role of father and husband in the visuals presented before me. I can hardly make any relation to that of him with me for the most part-- definitely not now.
Neither do I desire having him at present. I think I could have been her but then this is a probability and possibility, which is as with any other events that could have or could not have come into play in life with so much happening leading up to the current moment from that year I turned 17 when we parted and until now. Hence, really, it really means very little. So far, I have done well and haven’t dwell too hard on it or grow overly nostalgic to evoke that sense of pain and loss to trap myself in that ghost of a past…
But what then am I trying to hoard or satisfy from this regular blogsite visiting exercise?
I swear some days I feel like a stalker.
Every few days, I visit that blog site and get a piece of insight into his family life. The baby video clips that the Mrs. proudly posts regularly.
A very long time ago, I had envisioned what it was like to be his Mrs. It was simply because I thought we would yield good stock. Our kids would turn out good looking and intelligent enough with our combined powers and innate qualities.
I watched the baby grow as they mark the little milestones of her life captured on video from those first funny moments they encounter as new parents to her first signs of verbal expressions.
Today, I actually thought the baby is beginning to look half attractive. Previously, I did felt it was a pity that the little girl inherited nothing in the way of good features from her good-looking father. She was through and through her mother’s daughter- an imprint. I wasn't being partial but perceived my observations as a "fact" from the discernment of my quietly critical "cosmetic surgeon" eye. B and Dee Dee also did separately said the same thing without me pointing that out to them. What a waste of his good stock is what B criticise harshly.
Just now, I heard his voice on video for the first time.
It must be a good eleven years now since we have last spoken.
Funnily, I didn’t recognise him instinctively.
He mustn’t mean too much to me now then, must he?
We existed together in that era before we held pagers, mobile phones or corresponded by emails. Those days were eons ago and my memories of our joint moments have since been mished mashed to summate the thematic recollection of happiness. Memory snap shots of our joint happy moments where we loved and lusted boldly, recklessly and passionately epitomising youth, have thus found lucidity in the happy spot of my memory bank.
It is a new century and we have thus lived separately a few more new chapters since.
I looked at those pictures and video clips with a strange feeling, wondering why I am re-visiting the blog site again and again.
We had a connection a long time ago, actually we did have a very strong chemistry. But now he does looks like a stranger to me. He dons the role of father and husband in the visuals presented before me. I can hardly make any relation to that of him with me for the most part-- definitely not now.
Neither do I desire having him at present. I think I could have been her but then this is a probability and possibility, which is as with any other events that could have or could not have come into play in life with so much happening leading up to the current moment from that year I turned 17 when we parted and until now. Hence, really, it really means very little. So far, I have done well and haven’t dwell too hard on it or grow overly nostalgic to evoke that sense of pain and loss to trap myself in that ghost of a past…
But what then am I trying to hoard or satisfy from this regular blogsite visiting exercise?
Wednesday, August 01, 2007
Our Way Home on the Last Rendezvous Night
(finally a long awaited sequel to Manila Rendezvous- First Night)
Outside the jazz club, we strolled to the nicely lit terrace that overlooked the skyline of squatters. The elevated compound of our chic and opulent establishment was a strange juxtaposition between the privileged class and the poor masses. Prior to that, we were at an ex-mayor’s house where his son, a good friend of my beau was due up for running as mayor in the next election campaign. He was celebrating his 31st birthday with his closer mates whom I got introduced to. The next day, I spotted a few familiar faces while flipping through the local Tatler in the waiting room of a famous women's doctor (with a long waiting list) where my hostess's mother consulted.
Ironically, on our way to the birthday boy's house, I asked Ted and his entourage in the vehicle (consisting of Guitar, Sax, the chauffer and my Ted) what the mayor-to-be proposed to do for the poor. Of which, Guitar gave a mocking laugh. Paradoxically, I was to learn later that Guitar, too hails from a family tradition of privilege and power in politics.
*****
We stood by the balcony, overlooking the slopes of gazillion squatters beneath us. Our bodies were drawn close to each other and our tongues intertwined into a long and passionate kiss with our eyes closed. The light breeze blowing in our faces in the wee hours of that Monday morning emanated a mood of dreaminess in the air. I felt a little light-headed. I only had two glasses of Blue Lagoon (that could do no damage to me at all) for the whole night.
Then Ted grew self-conscious and rather affectionately, he withdrew his mouth from our French kiss and mumbled, “Let’s not do that. There are people…” He pointed afar at the welcoming fountain that formed the frontage of the establishment. Our chauffer and his friend, Sax awaited us in the huge 4WD/ van looking vehicle.
“Huh? Don’t you ever do that here?”
He gave a rather awkward smile, that part signified a half no.
“Oh, you are so not romantic!” I said rather plainly (as I figured I would be speaking at a level that he would understand).
“In Paris, you see lovers and couples holding hands and kissing everywhere. It’s a romantic city.”
“Really? They do that on the streets in Paris?” My Ted looked genuinely curious.
You see, despite his great wealth, Ted has only travelled to two other countries in Asia. He holds an American passport due to his father who had served in the U.S marine but he has never sat foot on the country of his supposed citizenship.
“Yes...”
We walked back towards the car.
Nearby, R n B music blasted away from another bar within the same compound. Ted started dancing to the beat, undulating his body. He turned me to face him and nimbly, started to thrust his pelvis against me in the act of mock sex as he laughed away.
This time, it was my turn to grow self-conscious. I hit him lightly and chided him, perhaps rather feebly, “Stop it, baby. Don’t do that in public!”
He stopped his act and we laughed at the silliness of it all. He held my hand and we proceeded to enter the vehicle. He propped me up by the waist from behind to get me up the step and into the 4WD . I turned to eye him mischievously and led him to the middle row of seats, with the empty row of seat before that separated us from Sax who sat at the passenger seat next to the chauffer. Ted protested ineffectually and softly asking why, although his half bemused face also betrayed his inkling that I had perhaps something up my sleeves...
(Voyeurs, hold your breaths. There’s more to come in the upcoming post…;) )
(finally a long awaited sequel to Manila Rendezvous- First Night)
Outside the jazz club, we strolled to the nicely lit terrace that overlooked the skyline of squatters. The elevated compound of our chic and opulent establishment was a strange juxtaposition between the privileged class and the poor masses. Prior to that, we were at an ex-mayor’s house where his son, a good friend of my beau was due up for running as mayor in the next election campaign. He was celebrating his 31st birthday with his closer mates whom I got introduced to. The next day, I spotted a few familiar faces while flipping through the local Tatler in the waiting room of a famous women's doctor (with a long waiting list) where my hostess's mother consulted.
Ironically, on our way to the birthday boy's house, I asked Ted and his entourage in the vehicle (consisting of Guitar, Sax, the chauffer and my Ted) what the mayor-to-be proposed to do for the poor. Of which, Guitar gave a mocking laugh. Paradoxically, I was to learn later that Guitar, too hails from a family tradition of privilege and power in politics.
*****
We stood by the balcony, overlooking the slopes of gazillion squatters beneath us. Our bodies were drawn close to each other and our tongues intertwined into a long and passionate kiss with our eyes closed. The light breeze blowing in our faces in the wee hours of that Monday morning emanated a mood of dreaminess in the air. I felt a little light-headed. I only had two glasses of Blue Lagoon (that could do no damage to me at all) for the whole night.
Then Ted grew self-conscious and rather affectionately, he withdrew his mouth from our French kiss and mumbled, “Let’s not do that. There are people…” He pointed afar at the welcoming fountain that formed the frontage of the establishment. Our chauffer and his friend, Sax awaited us in the huge 4WD/ van looking vehicle.
“Huh? Don’t you ever do that here?”
He gave a rather awkward smile, that part signified a half no.
“Oh, you are so not romantic!” I said rather plainly (as I figured I would be speaking at a level that he would understand).
“In Paris, you see lovers and couples holding hands and kissing everywhere. It’s a romantic city.”
“Really? They do that on the streets in Paris?” My Ted looked genuinely curious.
You see, despite his great wealth, Ted has only travelled to two other countries in Asia. He holds an American passport due to his father who had served in the U.S marine but he has never sat foot on the country of his supposed citizenship.
“Yes...”
We walked back towards the car.
Nearby, R n B music blasted away from another bar within the same compound. Ted started dancing to the beat, undulating his body. He turned me to face him and nimbly, started to thrust his pelvis against me in the act of mock sex as he laughed away.
This time, it was my turn to grow self-conscious. I hit him lightly and chided him, perhaps rather feebly, “Stop it, baby. Don’t do that in public!”
He stopped his act and we laughed at the silliness of it all. He held my hand and we proceeded to enter the vehicle. He propped me up by the waist from behind to get me up the step and into the 4WD . I turned to eye him mischievously and led him to the middle row of seats, with the empty row of seat before that separated us from Sax who sat at the passenger seat next to the chauffer. Ted protested ineffectually and softly asking why, although his half bemused face also betrayed his inkling that I had perhaps something up my sleeves...
(Voyeurs, hold your breaths. There’s more to come in the upcoming post…;) )
