taking another peek into pandora's box

i've been asked to return to the advertising world.

i don't want to move because i like the job and i honestly am only beginning to get the hang of doing it.

there are so many reasons why i don't want to be in that industry:
i don't believe in the work and so i lose sight so easily of the reasons why i do what i do.
there are too many people with too many different masks - there's seldom much sincerity in the friendships forged.

well, ok, maybe it's just 2 reasons after all. with No. 1 as the biggest push factor.

yet the invitation has once again, awakened something lying dormant... in my blood.

of course, there are other reasons that i consider... for example, getting a few hundred dollars more each month, and with subsequent better advancements... which means i don't have to scrimp and save each month, and i don't have to feel guilty when i shop or just want to spend money... i get to pamper myself a lot more...

... and i get to provide my family with more.

i suppose this was not a big concern growing up. the family was doing pretty well then. but not anymore. and with grandpa's passing, it made me very aware that from here on, the next people to go will be my parents... so while they are here, i want to give them more. and i want to have money to pay for their hospital bills should they need to be warded in future.

yesterday's sharing reaffirmed these thoughts. the question was, who are we responsible for? it's like a call that rang again - my parents. i am responsible for them now.

as the only Catholic in the family, it makes, made it difficult for my parents to explain to my grandparents what i do. it's difficult for me too... i wonder if they're embarrassed. not that i'm ashamed. it's just suddenly all coming together. i'm really not complaining. i'm just wondering.

i told Mr C about this and he said, "Be Christian." i know... i told him.
"but i'm 27!" i protested.

actually, i'm still 26. there's a part of me that wants and craves the things every young thing wants.

gosh... i miss the energy... the adrenaline...
and even as i scoff at how shallow the party-going can get, boy, are they great parties!

i miss the late nights... the exhaustion...
the wining, drinking, smoking, idle chatting, bitching...
i miss going to work the next day zombified because of another meaningless night of partying but have half the office as zonked as you.

i wrote something like this a month or so ago... probably repeating the same materials.
but that damned invitation is stirring my blood wild.

believe me, i like the job i have now. i never have to question why i'm writing a certain article, or at least, not the way i used to. i don't question the integrity of my role... and the best part is, i don't think there's a better place i can go to.

AND YET!!!

it's just one of those love-hate relationships. well, ok, i hate everything about the advertising industry, everything but the generous spurts of adrenaline.

and that, i miss... quite a lot actually.

*sigh*

In the Game of Life

the clock says it's 11.03am
half the day has come and gone
sitting here, i wonder at the speed
life rushes by
us little creatures caught up in its Game

secrets revealed and events unfold
exchanges between two people locked up
in the many spaces of my mind

the heart though,
has little vacancies left
reserved rooms only for a few special ones

an alliance forged, a confidante found
a gentle touch, a quiet smile...
a look that speaks more than the word 'love' can encapsulate
in and out they come
tread carelessly about, some do

a wave of a hand, a kiss goodbye
a harsh farewell, a turn of the head...
or none...
pieces returned, rejected but really,
what's given can never be taken back

a welcomed presence, a retreating figure,
a comforting companion, a withdrawing shadow
come and go, here and there,
was, is and may be
a blur of images spinning ruthlessly round me
fleeting captions of memories everywhere

a brief regret, some blinding pain
comes and goes, here and there,
was, is and always will be

up and down i go,
in and out i turn,
ride the waves i will
until the waves rise no more and i reach a plateau
where time finally stops

and i am released
from captivity into freedom
that is here and now,
if i so can reach it
here and now.

DEATH CAB FOR CUTIE

I Will Follow You Into The Dark

Love of mine some day you will die
But I'll be close behind
I'll follow you into the dark

No blinding light or tunnels to gates of white
Just our hands clasped so tight
Waiting for the hint of a spark
If heaven and hell decide
That they both are satisfied
Illuminate the no's on their vacancy signs

If there's no one beside you
When your soul embarks
Then I'll follow you into the dark

In Catholic school as vicious as Roman rule
I got my knuckles brusied by a lady in black
And I held my toungue as she told me
"Son fear is the heart of love"
So I never went back

If heaven and hell decide
That they both are satisfied
Illuminate the no's on their vacancy signs

If there's no one beside you
When your soul embarks
Then I'll follow you into the dark

You and me have seen everything to see
From Bangkok to Calgary
And the soles of your shoes are all worn down
The time for sleep is now
It's nothing to cry about
Cause we'll hold each other soon
The blackest of rooms

If heaven and hell decide
That they both are satisfied
Illuminate the no's on their vacancy signs

If there's no one beside you
When your soul embarks
Then I'll follow you into the dark
Then I'll follow you into the dark

i cried myself to sleep last night

... when i returned Home,
only to be greeted with its everything that breaks my heart.

... when i heard my grandpa's voice ringing loudly in my head,
only to realise it's merely an empty echo in my mind.

... when once again surrounded by people who love me so well,
i find myself standing alone at the edge,
with solitude filling the hollow within and drowning me alive.

i want to fall over the precipice into the dark and insane world.
surely it's not so bad to lose one's mind?
comfort it may bring,
to be lost in a world completely unreal to everyone but myself.
the dark beckons, and i must respond.
i want to close my eyes and never open them
if all i see is myself standing alone again.

gramma and grandpa

3rd night of my grandpa's wake... am sitting at an empty table typing this out.

i had wanted to do some work, that is, finish an article on the Prisons Ministry but unfortunately, no information came in yet from my contacts. i'm getting worried because time is running short, i'm exhausted and the next 2 days will be even more hectic than the last 6 days because it's the last day for the wake tomorrow (and i've been told many, many people will suddenly show up because it's their last chance to bid their farewells to my grandpa) and the funeral's on Friday... gosh, i dread Friday...

i still remember my gramma's funeral just one and a half years ago. was sad man. and the last day was the worst. when they took the coffin away to make its way to the crematorium, we had to follow behind while she was loaded into the hearst. i felt like they were really tearing her away from us, taking her away for good. i'm very accepting of death as a result of old age but i guess i couldn't reconcile with losing a beloved in a very human way.

gramma's family on my mum's side is a big one. we have 2 uncles (the adopted one being the most filial and her flesh and blood, eldest child being a callous bastard), 4 aunties and all their spouses are absolutely wonderful, loving people. i have so many, many cousins on that side and most of us grew up together in Kim Hock Guan, my great-grandfather's bak kwa shop, that he set up, the pioneer in the bak kwa industry in singapore! we grew up together there, when our mothers used to work there, from the time we were babies. we saw one another get caned. we went through our most humiliating times together. :)

my grandpa on my dad's side though, is different. there is only my dad and his elder brother and younger sister. i have one cousin only. so we, this small family, are absolutely short-handed when a crisis arises, as we just learnt. plus the fact that my uncle and his wife don't do late nights, the night shifts that last till the next day are shared between my parents, aunt and me. *FAINTS*

so here i am, at the void deck, in the tentage and i am tired. i have remembered so much of my grandparents. but NOT ENOUGH. i have spent so little time with them, the less the more i grow up.

gramma had a very hard life. she was married to my grandpa (who died one year before i was born) at a very young age and suffered with him. he didn't treat her very well. and though she is the eldest wife, she was mistreated by the concubines. he died early and she had to take care of the shop and eventually get turned out by her eldest son. she was so well-to-do with my grandpa's family but when she died, she had absolutely nothing. she cried when she couldn't give me and my cousin money to buy some snacks. i worried for her when she passed on. she didn't know her parents... my grandpa didn't care for her, her in-laws didn't care... who's she going to turn to 'on the other side'? i know i'm being silly cos God is there but i couldn't reconcile the image in my head... it's like, how is she going to speak to God in hokkien? hahaha...

grandpa on the other hand, led a very simple life. he used to be a bus conductor and the family was so poor that only on occasion can he buy a packet of food, say, char kuay tiao home, late at night after work. the whole family will wake up hungry and eager to share that one packet of food. but he was contented and he was happy. he loved life. that's why he could not understand why his body broke down. because his spirit was intact and he luuuurrrrved to live.

my most vivid memories of my grandparents are mostly of the times when i was a kid.
my gramma bought me a pair of clogs cos i used to love those (and still do!) and my mum refused to buy me any. everyday when i reach Kim Hock Guan, i would run to our box of toys and dig for my clogs. every night, my only other female cousin (then) and i would have to sing a performance for our family before our dads picked us up.
my grandpa took me on many walks at Toa Payoh Garden. he nursed me when i cut my feet with each pair of new slippers i have. he was the one who introduced me to 'mee hoon kuay', one of my favourites dishes now.

i had come home from school one day to see him peeling dough into little thin slices. i asked him what he was doing and he gave a shout and laughed at me for not knowing what it is and he promised i would definitely enjoy it when he cooked it for me later. i did.

he had come to our house the day after we got our little kitty. she was so small then and she was kept in this HUGE box we made into a home for her. my grandpa is deaf so he was standing right there, with her yelping sharply (yes, cats yelp when they're kittens and very loudly) without hearing her cries. we pointed her out to him and he said in hokkien, "what is this? a rat?"

because of his deafness, he used to call our names so loudly each time we met him to go out. we would arrange to meet at an MRT station or a specific place and we would try to be there early so he wouldn't be there first and shout our names so loudly when he sees us. we were not ashamed of him, but at that young age, we were self-conscious and easily embarrassed. how i wish to just hear him shout my name once more...

i opened his wallet once and saw 3 mug-shots of my brother, cousin and me. that broke my heart cos i felt his love for us so strongly

then more than 10 years passed by and my next memories of my grandparents are of their hospital stays. staying over with them is always tiring but those experiences have become just the very least i can do for them.
holding their hands and helping them along when we meet... i love them so dearly. it just wasn't expressed enough.

my Catholic faith has helped me to accept death more readily and easily. it's nothing bad, it's just going home, returning to God. yet, it's still hard. especially when they've been the sweetest grandparents i have... had... i won't say the regret is deep that i didn't spend enough time with them. i tried, with the crazy schedules i had... and a life i chased after. for myself. and i didn't try hard enough for them.

i have one surviving gramma but truth be told, i feel like i have no more grandparents left. i wish... so much... that she had left first and then my grandpa could've spent his remaining time enjoying his freedom. i've lost the only two who ever sincerely, truly loved the people around them enough to help us to love and appreciate them in return.

ah gong... ah ma, rest in peace. i love you both. i will see you again... rest in peace.

my new old fwen, Mr C

had drinks at Ice Cold Beer with kodok a couple of weeks ago, me decked out in my MNG black dress and him in... his usual shirt, minus the HS tie that he was commanded to wear.

we had to be present at the Meritus Mandarin Hotel for a 'state' ('state' not state, cos the president wasn't there) dinner (though i prefer to call it the GALA DINNER), the culmination of Cardinal Renato Raffaele's one-week visit to Singapore. he was in town for the celebrations of the 25th Anniversary of Diplomatic Relations between the Holy See and Singapore. whatever.

yeah... so we popped into the more welcoming and more relaxed Ice Cold Beer for some reprieve before the long night ahead. i arrived and usurped his chair because mine was too low. he's right, i think i bully him too much. =)

hurriedly, we exchanged stories and caught up on everything we had missed in each other's lives, things that we would have discussed to death if we had this little box to facilitate our communication. it's known as Yahoo Messenger that some barbaric companies firewall to prevent it from being a communal tool.

i like talking to kodok as a friend. that's why i always ask him to shed his persona as a coordinator and talk to me as a friend. and he has learnt to!

he says i am very matured for my age. he always says that. i don't know what to make of it. because i know i am matured but i don't see how i am more matured than others around me. but the way he says it, it's almost like saying... that in Life with God, this maturity is a strength because i am able to accept things that don't go my way and to respond as an adult would, to take it in my stride and have the tenacity to weather on without throwing the towel in. (*blush*, i complimented myself!)

but this maturity can also be a bad thing because i see things differently from my peers, which can create a loss of identity amongst my peers. i don't know... this is what i think HE thinks because whenever i tell him about some problem i may have, which isn't very often, depending on how often we talk and what kinds of problems he is facing at the moment, he remarks almost to himself, "that's why i always say you're very matured for your age."

WHAT'S THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?!!?

i don't want to be more matured. i just want to be a normal girl. and sometimes, i think i am not. not that i think i'm above others. i just... don't fit in. and this isn't some growing up issues because i am past that.

but many times, i still feel like i'm outside looking in.

but back to Mr C, i have to say that kodok gives me a lot of reassurance. he sees my strengths and knows how to turn my weaknesses into some things better. he understands what i say much better than boys my age. but of course. he's old. :P

in many ways, he used to be my pillar of support and strength. he used to teach me what faith is. does he still? i don't know... but he's my fwen and i've undertaken the responsibility to see that he remains in line with what he believes in.

i hope he never falters. for selfish reasons, i can't see my mentor fail and i can't bear to see him go offtrack... especially when i think that the only reason why he will go offtrack is because he's opened himself up to the temptations to pull him away from the right path that possibly, his position tends to require of him... and these temptations are not things people are conscious of.

he's my fwen. my 45 year old fwen who babyspeaks with me. and i also like the fact that he's able to tell me when i've done something wrong without making me feel like a worm or able to teach me grace without making me feel like a duck... or how to be less socially inept without embarrassing me or making me feel inadequate.

and he shares some stories with me that he doesn't even tell his wife, as he so innocently announced to the bartender who eyed us that evening. must be thinking, little slut, over-dressed to be in a bar with this old man... he's really not that old, but his white hair makes him appear otherwise.

the bartender was looking down as he was filling up a mug for some other patron... but his eyes flitted upwards to check us out when kodok boomed that statement in his loud voice. i squirmed. and then i thought to myself, hoping the bartender and everyone else in that room saw that exclamation of thought bubble, "He's MY FWEN! and i am proud of it! i don't care what people think."

i never thought i would like older men until i came to church and got to make many good friends who are older men. what does this say?

young men don't go to church! Grrr.

IN VERITATE ET CARITATE

i don't know why, but when i think back on my old school days, there is always a bittersweet feeling sitting heavily in my heart. and i felt the exact same way when i stepped into the old school last weekend.

it was grey and dismal looking in some ways - the ways that had remained constant for the last 10 years. elsewhere, there are new floorings and buildings. where we used to queue up for Assembly every morning on a grass patch (and where i had played touch rugby with a papaya, smashing it further with every throw and drop... where i had gathered for photographs... where i had stood looking up at 3 mischievous boys dancing to "That Thing You Do" on one school occasion), there is now that rubber asphalt... dunno-what material, the same as is used on running tracks.

my classroom looked like how it looked before we painted our walls. we were the only class that had decided we wanted to paint our walls a shade of light CJC-blue with turqoise shell motifs and proceeded to get permission to do it back in 1997. i still have one school T-shirt covered with paint and one black NIKE shoe with a drop of blue on it.

but the walls are blue no longer but the normal shade of white. potato's class... i don't know, probably is the same. i only went up to look at the Arts floor to remember how it felt. strangely, it felt the same... that saturday, i felt nostalgia at something that is now a page in my history, but i also felt the same raw excitement i used to feel at 18... when life was all promising and filled with hopes of unknown but indefinitely better things to come... when even bad days take on a tinge of romantic darkness. the air smelled the same... it was musky with old furniture and yet breezy with the windows overlooking what used to be the soccer field.

actually, i didn't see the field. because the doors to the classrooms were locked. but memory serves me well. i remember that one afternoon we were sitting in class, listening out for the final match that was being played between CJ and another JC. every now and then, we craned our necks to check on the game being played 5 floors down. when we dared to, when the teachers weren't looking or during intermittent bursts of shouts, we ran to the windows to see what was happening. that went on through Chinese class, with potato in it, but he probably couldn't care less, and it was finally at GP that Mentor Danker had pity and actually released us early to go watch the game.

i ran down to catch the game. because Mr Animal Rights was playing and because i loved the rowdy atmosphere of a 'live' soccer game. we lost during the penalty shootout. the guy who missed the final shot burst into tears. he literally cried. poor thing.

i don't know why my memories of CJC remain so fresh and vivid in my mind. i don't know any other period of my life when i remember things so clearly. i can almost smell the scent of adventure when i recall those days. i can taste the hot air, i can remember exact words that were said on different occasions ("The ARTs faculty stands at the top floor because WE LOOK DOWN ON EVERYBODY ELSE!", said Arts valedictorian on the last day of school) and most of all, i can feel every single tingling sensation i ever felt in those days. the bad and the good. the worst and the best.

my old school was silent last Saturday. there was no rowdiness, no noise, no nothing, no life. but it brought back all the promises, hopes, dreams, wishes, thoughts, fears, anxieties, exhaustion, ecstasy and life that i ever experienced.

gosh... next year would be the 10th year out of school. potato doesn't care... and i guess many others wouldn't. but for me, those 2 years in that grey school were 2 of the best years of my life. not because of what happened then but because of who i was in those years. someone who dreamt BIG and lived BIG. i loved every single bit of the environment, with all its crap and nastiness and i loved every single bit of who i was, somebody who lived to the best of what i wanted to be.

youth. fly. i flew.

Obligations

the search for answers placed me in a state of dissatisfaction and frustration recently. when faced with a problem or a question, i sometimes, feel tired in having to discern God's will and constantly trying to hear His voice and only succeeding in hearing whispers that point me every which way.

I NEED A LOUD, NEON FLASHING ARROW TO SHOW ME THE PATH TO TAKE!

so i either have to be patient and continue searching or i can give up the quest. the problem with being patient is that, i'm not. and yet, giving up is not an option. how can it even be one? i'll just end up more lost than ever. and that outright rejection of God is something i can't do.

thus the lack of strength to take the next step or a general loss of any feeling is what i end up with. and i NEED to FEEL. it's a NEED. i feel dead otherwise.

+++++

yesterday evening, i went down to Risen Christ to interview Father Loiseau for a story on his 80th birthday celebrations.

i was there to conduct an interview so i got into the right disposition, which usually means, not having a clear idea of what to do but just being there for an informal chat with the person i'm meeting and letting the conversation unfold. usually, all i need to do is to nudge the person i'm interviewing with a few questions and they will reveal bits about themselves that i think i am astute enough to pick up for a good enough story. i don't like to push if they don't wish to speak. in that respect, my journalist instincts are definitely not honed sharply enough - i lack that hunger for a story. i just want to talk to them because i have that opportunity to. and i suppose talking to people usually gives you some insight into how another human being works. in the general scheme of the game of Life, these little nuggets of their personal lives have proven to, more than usual, be instrumental clues to how i should lead mine.

i'll take what i can get. stories are not worth offending others for. neither will i be able to justify upsetting somebody just to churn out a nice little article to put my name to. Ambition has never been something i have. it's a gift i lack, if it's a gift at all.
(Disclaimer: in my job, maybe Ambition is a gift... hmmm...)

WELL ANYWAY!!!! i digress.

Father Loiseau was roughly silent in the beginning. he only spoke to tease me about knowing so few French priests or not knowing more about the Church. =)

but as the evening unfolded, he asked two simple personal questions, possibly out of courtesy or just to keep the conversation going. those questions i answered factually, and i revealed nothing about my state of mind or how i might possibly be feeling.

yet, suddenly, he was talking as if he knew the problems i had, or the situations i was in, or that i was an open book and he could read every thing that i was thinking and feeling.

several times, i caught myself thinking, "did i forget that i said something?" because i did not! so how is it he was speaking to ME?

i didn't get the answers i needed... well, maybe because i don't even clearly know what the questions i'm asking are.

but Father Loiseau said a few things that struck me right at the heart of my heart.

"learn more about your faith. you are not obliged to be a charismatic (Hell, NO!!!). you are not obliged to be a Divine Mercy devotee (thank God!). but you are obliged to be a child of God."

now what does that mean? i thought i knew. i thought he was trying to tell me i am obliged to live by my baptismal promises. but... not really.

"God wants you to be happy."

(*SCREAMS!!!*)

so i am obliged to be happy.

it's so simple! why have i been so blind?

the pursuit of answers can drain me so much, to the point that i feel... either empty or filled only with negativity... and all i need to know is that i need to be happy.

it's not like 'sinning'. you know doing A is a sin but sometimes, you just like A so much that you actually consciously choose to give in to doing A. or you are not strong enough to not commit A so you sometimes end up sinning anyway. that's different.

being happy is different. i wasn't even conscious that i was BEING unhappy! i think i have a lot to be happy for. but sometimes, i surround myself with fears, doubts and allow them to ensnare me in feeling insecure and frightful of non-existent pain that may come my way if i'm not careful enough.

how dumb is that?

I am obliged to be happy because I am a child of God and God wants me to be happy.

GOD wants me to be happy.
God wants ME to be happy.
God wants me to be HAPPY.

it's sooooooo simple.

i'm not exactly sure why i felt so uplifted talking to Father Loiseau last night. but he looked at me and he looked right through me. he looked at me and he SAW me. he spoke and his words were meant just for ME. he spoke TO ME.

i know enough Christian language to be able to pinpoint directly, he was an instrument of God just for me last night. God works in mysterious ways. but in one of those occurences that stand to be less and less rare the more i grow, and yet still never fail to amaze me, God appears always in just the right way that i NEED, just the very moment i NEED Him to.

these days, i find myself open and waiting for Him to show Himself. rather than expecting Him to, i know He does in His own time. and His chosen time is always, ALWAYS the very time i NEED. He knows when it is. and the same words said on an occasion picked by Him are just the very words that become soothing balms for a barren state... the nourishment for a weak soul, the relief for an aching heart or the answers to unasked questions.

i guess i am still left with that many questions... not even real ones because i don't know what the questions are exactly so i don't know what it is i'm looking for precisely... BUT they don't matter. cos God has spoken. and he said, "I want YOU to be HAPPY."

i want to be an obedient child of God. i am obliged to live as one.

so... oh well! i guess i have to be happy. ;)

Chances Are...

Chances are you'll find me
somewhere on your road tonight
seems I always end up driving by
ever since I've known you
it just seems you're on my way
all the rules of logic don't apply
I long to see you in the night
be with you till morning light

I remember clearly how you looked
the night we met
I recall your laughter and your smile
I remember how you made me
feel so at ease
I remember all your grace and style
and now you're all I long to see
you've come to mean so much to me

Chances are I'll see you somewhere
in my dreams tonight
you'll be smiling like the night we met
Chances are I'll hold you
and I'll offer all I have
you're the only one I can't forget

Baby, you're the best I've ever met
and I'll be dreaming of the future
and hoping you'll be by my side
and in the morning I'll be longing for the night

You're the only one I can't forget
Baby, you're the best I've ever met