Silence

I think this phase I'm going through, is the phase of liking someone and get on these silent rides -- watching as things go by. Watching as people moved on. Watching as life catches up on you. And then letting go. And then having the pain knifed down in your heart. While your heart bleeds, your brain writes down to-do list. Things to settle, movies to see, books to read, other friends to meet, new things you may want to try. Although you're just so sunk in and comfortable with the misery you know. I'm thinking of big windows, a huge bed. I'm thinking of patios and cushions, with flowers and coffee mugs. I'm thinking of scenic views, soundtracks and books. I'm thinking of the pictures you'd took on top of the pictures I have in mind. And somehow, I see you in most pictures. I can't shut down certain things. I just keep playing and replaying it. It's a soothing effect that consumed not only my misery -- but also my time, my availability, my being that should be better off elsewhere. But one day it will come, one day when I will eventually be rid of my demons.

Petals

I'm a sad, sad thirty-year old.

My so-called unofficially appointed book agent is reading my blog, sort of like, a test run. So, this post here is like more work, or... a "heyy, surprise!"

Ha ha ha ha.

I'm a sad, sad thirty year old who have been wasting my weekends away committing to house chores and laundry. I could have gone to my investment classes or go out with my girlfriends but currently I'm yearning for kisses -- not a make out session (not yet, unless, well, you know, if. you. can. take. it. to. the. next. level) -- from a guy that I am emotionally interested with. Currently there's none that I am emotionally interested in -- but I looove kisses!

Maybe I can opened a small florist stall. Not a serious, registered, licensed business kind of florist stall. Maybe I just set up a make up booth like those Charlie Brown selling lemonades -- or was it Linus? Oh, okay, like Lucy's clinic booth. And I set it up at, say, busy LRT stations or anywhere nearby SOGO in KL. Surely they can't missed a pretty girl selling flowers for nuts. They will think I'm crazy, yup. Or easy crime target.

I can get cheap flowers from Petaling Street and mark it up just a mere few percent. Not costing in time, fuel and transportation for the exchange of human interaction. Real-life communication, experiences and a good practice of sort.

I'm not a very smiley person. On weekends when I sort of have a routine outfit running errands -- stripey grey long sleeve top and blue jeans -- and I don't want to put on mascara or filling up the blanks in my eyebrows, my greatest asset is my smile. I. Must. Smile. Learn to make it a habit.

And from there, a smile and pretty flowers, I will be able to strike conversations with strangers. As long as I am talking to someone. The people I know in my contact list seemed pretty busy and they have no time for small talks and all angst and frustrations have been vented on social feeds, anyway. Nothing else about being there, done that to share.

And from that small booth selling flowers for nuts, I will meet a lot more people than the existing types I have made acquaintances with. Talk to the elders, children, immigrants who have the hard lives. Maybe get to know some policemen and policewomen -- and then they will be asking for my business license, ack! Chat with the tourists, the expats and the outsourced Indian geeks.

I think that's one of the best soul foods. I have seen how others my age or younger or the older ones who keep going, do their part being volunteers, set up their own business selling clothes or books and getting closer to Almighty. They have goals and are very inspiring.

As for me, I just have a crazy idea. Things are going to be hard. I just want to get through it. And not very much about leaving my comfort zone just yet to start with.

Pattern

Hello, what did I write last time?

About a man, a muse, the reason I write so I could create another escapism to get away from the fact that I am just one of his ... can't romanticise him any more, can't say out the simple truth.

I imagined I would falter even worse than it was the time with Adi, perhaps Hadri was masking my other, actual pain. What I eventually realized, after crying in the rain (while driving), the loathing part I have for Hadri, consumed all the endearings.

And I realized I'm over Adi -- as much as it took me two years.

But I made it, so what's next?

+ + +

If you have to talk about a guy with your girlfriend -- that's a red flag.

And Roha, being that annoying elder sister role that she is at times (and me being that spoiled, ungrateful younger sister at times), I know she is only and only looking after me when my mother couldn't.

Ughhh, I'm getting emotional. Okay, stop.

+ + +

I will talk about him here, because experiences as I knew it, predictions as Roha can sees it, advices as Shoobs has always asked to consider it -- it's a gone case.

Thing is, I am only happy like this when I am with you. I am happy that I am fighting and crying for you. I recognized this as genuine feelings and that I only have it for you.

I yearned for you, I read every thoughts of you, I checked my cell for you, I constantly hope that notification sound means it's from you, I waited for you every morning, I wished that those thoughts were about me, I wanted to know if it is only me that you're holding like this.

My heart misses you and my eyes welled with tears each time after a good day spent with you.

Here's to another silent ride.

Unknown

Aku tak tau la.

That's my first retort. Truthfully, I really do do not know.

It's well passed a year after I last had some. It was a long day at work, quite gruelling too. I was tired but I was thrilled, I was playful but he was emotional about his room break-in that happened a few days earlier. He shouted and for a moment I was thinking whether I should get into the lift with him or not. I left him to bring in everything on his own once he unlocked the door. I plopped on the sofa and gave out a fuck-you silent treatment throughout the 600 square feet studio apartment.

He didn't bother about feeding me. I sang out loud in the worst out-of-tune (and beat) voice ever to Spiritualized's Ladies and Gentlemen, We're Floating in Space, feeding my boredom and thinking of how the other who will always attend to my every needs even when I never thought of it, spoiling me like a princess.

I went to bed early because I have seen that episode of The Simpsons and it is not particularly my favourite. It's wistful when I thought about it again, when he asked, "Nak tidur dah?"

I should have just stayed and stayed and stayed by his side.

I woke up in the middle of the night and found him sleeping on the couch. I forced myself into his arms until he wearily said, "Let's go to bed." His sleeping breath and liquor smell, I inhaled it. I want to sleep with the person I have crazy feelings for.

Again, he didn't bother about feeding me so forget breakfast. He scrolled his social feed and didn't talk to me. I always love getting some in the morning but again, I'm the only one being playful here. I got cranky and demanded coffee. I ranted and told him how the other guys wouldn't treat me like this. He told me off to be independent like all his girlfriends and so many had spoiled me by doing everything for me I should do stuffs on my own.

Ohhh. Didn't he hit a fucking nerve in me. I was so furious I slammed the bathroom door and sat there crying. I came out after I finished and checked my mascara and eyeliner in the mirror. I remembered him coyly peered in to see how I was doing.

Another fuck-you silent treatment, an even fuckier one. He lost his cool and started to confront me. I could barely looked at him, which is to say, I was really, really pissed with him. He played all the I'm-the-man-here-woman-you-better-answer-me but all he's getting is the fuck-y silent treatment.

But he did make coffee for me. And it was one of the best black coffees I have ever drink. The perfect balance of sweetness and the very right temperature. I thoroughly enjoyed the whole mug. He's a genius. I told him so. He was dumbfounded but as always, he doesn't take compliments well.

I get ready, packed up to leave and smeared all the rouge on my lips. Now only does he wants some, his last attempt to make up. I reminded him that his friends are waiting for him and I am not important, I'm just his real-life sex doll. For a moment I thought I saw a flicker of regret in his eyes, for saying that to me last night. And I'm always good at giving back.

He drove me to my office. He held my chin when he finally gets it where my sarcasm comes from. Again, he criticizes me. About my work, my attitude -- if I can't take a critique, how does my manager handles me? It pisses me off because he's never seen the other part of me, he never asked so he never knows that I am working with the best people in the business, and at one point I offered him an opportunity to work with them. He thinks he's better than me, he has travelled more miles, he has met so many people and their dirty tricks to win and that he's so great closing a 5mil (in RM)  project and me ... just a 4mil (in USD).

Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you.

He's just the worst and lamest person ever when he's with me. Or when he's not with me as I stalked him now and then.

But how every inch of my body, heart, mind and soul  betrayed me. And I only have this sort of feeling for him, this genuine liking him to bits, adoring his arrogance and endearing ... what the hell, what the hell.

Aku tak tau la.