a simpleton's world

重新

2009-06-11T22:28:00.002+08:00

路走到了尽头，就唯有回头重新来过。
虽然很无奈委屈
虽然身心很疲惫
虽然不知前方如何
虽然没抱太多希望
虽然很可能会犯同样的错
但除了重新出发，还能怎样？

不知为何，最近有点迷失自己的感觉
终日浑浑厄厄地过着
好像生命中突然有一部分的我流失了
好像心里失去了一些东西
但就是说不上是什么
这种感觉很辛苦，快让人窒息

很想再次从心底笑出来因为许久未开心过
很想放下‘我’这包袱
很想时光倒留选择昔日放弃的路
很想。。。很想。。。

但这一切都不可能，不是吗？
那就只有继续走下去。。。
但在那之前，可否让我先停在这里？

Winds of change

2009-05-26T22:49:00.003+08:00

The winds of change blew me off my feet, heck, it blew away my head.
Couldn't say I didn't see it coming, just didn't see it coming so hard.
Now I'm left picking up dead ends and making them meet.
And it's not pretty. And I dislike it.
And I wanted to say how much I hated it, but I don't even know where to begin.
It was convenient. I knew.
I expected as much.
Yet, it still hurts when the winds of change slapped me.
Indeed, nothing is permanent.
Moments are fleeting.
Feelings could get old.
People give up easily.
And Time, Time never lies.

happily never after

2009-03-12T04:11:00.002+08:00

Besides my undying love for the rain, I also somehow enjoy writing in the middle of the night, say 4a.m. So here goes...

It's a pretty absurd discovery I made. I was only surprised why I hadn't seen it in that light before. It's general principle that Love is the basic ingredient for two person to be together. What's ridiculous is that Love can also be the reason for two person NOT to be together. I'm not talking about those who choose to stay away from their beloved for the benefit of the other party. Yes, it's true human tend to be in way above their head or narcissistic to entertain themselves with acts and thoughts of being the generous one to let another person go in the name of love, if by that act it'd bring that person closer to their perceived happiness. We give it a grand name too, 'Sacrifice'. However, the case in question is nothing like this.

What perplexes me is how two people can be tied with Love, yet choosing to let go, not in the name of Sacrifice, but for something else. How can Love be the binding factor for some, but the breaking factor for others? I don't understand. Girl meets boy, both fell in love, both need each other, but instead of being together, they separated because they want to preserve that chemistry that sparked affection in them in the very first place. It doesn't seem to make sense, yet it appears highly plausible and it does happen. People part ways out of Love, too.

Maybe they're afraid of what's ahead. Maybe they knew better. Maybe they're just not strong enough. I wouldn't say they give up Love. They just want it so much more than others that they halt at Love itself.

(I realize the above article makes absolutely no sense, even to to the author herself. I have the idea, but my words are not doing it any justice... Maybe I need to catch up on my sleep.)

Destiny

2009-01-30T21:23:00.002+08:00

I saw a movie about Destiny today - Slumdog Millionaire. It's easily one of the most heavily Indian-flavored films I've ever watched yet I don't hate it. In fact, it brought back some memories of my time in India. Mumbai's strong contrast of sleeziness and wealth, the gloriously empty Taj Mahal, the children beggars. All that constitutes India was captured within that 2-hour show. Ironic how a movie centred around Destiny should be shot at such a destination.

So the movie left me with a grand question: Is Destiny really written in the stars? According to the film, it is. How else could an uneducated lad of the lower caste in society becomes a millionaire overnight via a television show? For he's neither a cheater nor a genius. Luck, maybe. But Destiny?

If there is such a thing as Destiny, who decides it? I don't have enough faith to believe that the higher being has a hand in this. I'm also not egotistical to think I hold my Destiny in my own hands. How can two individuals be destined for one another? How can one man be destined to succeed while another fail? How can a child be destined to beg on the streets while others float in seas of luxury? What exactly differentiates our Destiny?

Most people would think that the choices we make in life lead us onto different paths. How and what we choose decides our Destiny. Some would insist that Destiny is a beautiful mysterious unknown guarded by many factors that have intricately woven itself into our life. I can't wholly agree with any. I don't think a person can choose their own destiny, nor can they walk about life believing that they are already living their destiny. Because if either of that is possible, we'd all be content, yet the truth is, none of us is really content, at least not for too long.

I think those who believe in Destiny will only be led on a wild goose chase, for how in the world would you know your Destiny, and more specifically, where/how to look for it? It's a destination so obscure that I believe I wouldn't have known it even if I've reached it. But I think we need to believe in it. We all need to believe that each decision we make in life, each separation we struggle with, each heartache we endure will eventually lead us to where we're supposed to be. We just need to believe that there's someplace we belong and that each day we're getting closer to it. And maybe that's our common Destiny - to belong.

right now

2009-01-20T23:43:00.002+08:00

I don't care about the 'happily ever after' at this moment. There's never any of that for me anyway. I just want 'right now'.
Right now, I don't want to have to dream about those nonsense that startled me in my sleep.
Right now, I don't want to commit to huge responsibilities.
Right now, I want instant gratification.
Right now, I want to free myself from the shackles that I've worn for years.
Right now, I just want it to be about 'me'.
Right now, I just need it.

you know it's bad when..

2008-12-27T22:14:00.001+08:00

You know it's bad when you fall asleep crying...

You know it's bad when you cry in your dreams...

You know it's bad when you wake up crying...

throaty

2008-12-10T21:17:00.002+08:00

You know how sometimes you feel like you've been innocently good for a long while, abiding all the rules to the point it frustrates you, that you finally decided it's time to let all hell break loose? That's how it was for me, tonight.

I've been utterly fed up with my non-healing persistent dry cough and all the food I had to abstain from, in the hopes that it'd speed up the healing process. Well, healing never quite happened. And I just about had enough of avoiding spicy or cold food/beverages for almost 3 weeks now that I made the wisest decision to just start eating whatever damn thing I like! Spciy mutton murtabak, bring it on! Cold chocolatey ice-cream, I'm coming! Hey, if I'm gonna break the rules, might as well push it as far as I can go. So I ate all that I'm not supposed to eat, all the while secretly hoping that it might have a reverse effect, that somehow these no-no food may bring my annoying cough to a stop. Fat chance!

Nonetheless, it feels good to be reckless sometimes, even to a small degree.

Of course recklessness costs. The price is about RM 15.50, for a bottle of cough syrup. ;) Wish me luck.

forever

2008-12-09T17:50:00.002+08:00

Immortality. Eternity. Damnation.
Can these words really exist in the same line?
If your life is extended over an unlimited period of time, what would you do with it? Would the phrase 'live each day to the fullest' no longer hold any meaning? What about love? How would your love change? Would you love only one person throughout your eternal existence? Or more? Or would love morph into something else altogether when you have all the time in the world, literally?

If I'm an immortal, forever would be damned without love(s). As it is, with the God-only-knows amount of time I have of this life of mine, I'm wasting every second by waiting - waiting for someone, waiting for something. Don't ask me who or what. There's just a gnawing feeling of incompleteness chewing at my being. It's not that I'm unhappy right where I am now, but I think.... or perhaps hope, that there's more to this. That extra something doesn't even neccesarily has to be love. It's just a missing puzzle in me, lost somewhere out there in the great sea of nothingness. I wish I'd knew a way to retrieve it. I wish I'd knew what is missing in the first place..

Eternity doesn't seem like such a bad option if it means I get more time to find that missing puzzle.

2008-12-04T21:08:00.000+08:00

TRUTH IS FREEDOM.

2008-11-26T14:29:00.001+08:00

IGNORANCE IS STRENGTH.

masked depression

2008-11-19T00:17:00.002+08:00

I think my symptoms fit the description. Here's why:
- Depression is found to be associated with Obsessive-compulsive disorder in 67% of cases. And God knows I have OCD when it comes to door-locking. Car doors, room doors, any doors. I'm just compelled to keep pressing, pushing, pulling to make sure it's securedly locked. It can take me 10 minutes of checking just to to be convinced that my door is locked. It wears me out sometimes, but the thought is just too hard to resist. Bona fide OCD.

- One of the common manifestations of masked depression is a change in the person's behaviour. Unusually sad mood can make one shoplift, consume alcohol, exhibit sexual promiscuity etc. In my case, it's alcohol, but that's in the past. I drank for the wrong reasons back then. I won't deny that my feeling low then was the main trigger for me to crave for drinks, to quench the emptiness within. However that's no longer true now. I am drinking for the right reasons these days. Nonetheless, I recently got a stunning remark from a friend who told me that I've somehow changed, that I've lost the radiance and glee I once possessed. I was even attached to the unfriendly term of looking rather 'constipated' (quote and unquote). It surprised me that I look sad on the exterior when I thought I feel alright inside. Obviously I have been denying the truth. Escapism. I am guilty of that too.

I'm so wretched within that it actually show on my face? That's new. Am I really a masked depressive? I just know this: I'm not suicidal.

loss

2008-11-11T20:17:00.002+08:00

Mourning for a loss...
not because it is lost,
but because there's no chance to fulfill the promises once made...

Ideas about Love

2008-10-29T22:13:00.003+08:00

I have two very extreme ideas about Love today..
- Love letters. I've given a lot of thought into this delicate matter. Which 21st century earthling is still depicting their affection to their loved ones with pen and papers? Yet, the idea of writing or receiving a love letter has, since time immemorial, been publicly accepted as a romantic gesture. Unfortunately everyone seems too busy to indulge in such display of affection. Don't even try to argue with me using 'love e-mails' or 'love faxes'. Those aren't written with your hand. Not many people living in this keyboard-typing era truly know the difficulty of putting their thoughts on papers- the idea-processing, the meticulous choice of words just to get the right message across, at the desired tone and pattern, hence evoking the desired emotions in the readers. Of course, not to be neglected is the tremendous joy of watching your reader following your lines of words eagerly and observe their grimaces that'd serve as the most honest compliment/condemn. These are joys you can't even begin to imagine as a user of electronic mails. I've never received a love letter before. I've never heard of any friends who have had either. Why don't people write them anymore? They are such poweful instruments of love. Don't anyone realise that? I know I can appreciate one, even if it was only to contain the simplest words. I'd just appreciate the effort put into the writing. Would you?

- Love was so much better when I didn't know what it was.
I used to like a boy, but what I liked most about him wasn't his looks, manners or the way he treated me. I just liked being close to him and feeling that I was wanted there, though he didn't express it in any way. I didn't use to interpret that as Love. It's just a feeling that I liked, and couldn't derive from anybody else, not even now.

I just slapped my right hand with my left hand. I want a love letter that'd define the affection one has for me, yet I think that Love is grander if I had had no way of defining it. Slap me.

nice me

2008-10-19T14:34:00.002+08:00

It's disappointing to admit that I'm actually more considerate than I'd prefer myself to be. My verbal non-chalance is merely limited to, well, just words. I wish to be meaner, to not care for how others feel and I thought I was all that but I'm not. I know I have the ability to put others in difficult positions but I just don't have the heart to do so. I try to resist believing in the good of others, but in actual fact I'm just afraid to believe in the good within me. Le sigh.

There, I'm nice.

2008-10-11T17:11:00.002+08:00

The few previous posts had been pretty heavy. So here's something light for the day:
This is a message I received from a random guy via friendster.com. Now I'm not an anti-social being but just how am I supposed to respond to something like this?

A message from subra:
"aw you are sooo cute...does mommy know you are talking to cute guys like me? add me babe!!"

First of all we HAVEN'T been talking. Next, how conceited can a person be to call himself cute in front of a stranger?? And with what audacity he assumed that I would actually, one, think that he's cute and secondly, even consider replying him, let alone adding him onto my list?! Gosh.. there're simply too many vain folks out there.

End

2008-10-07T18:59:00.001+08:00

Ending is inevitable. The circle of life has to begin with an end. Ironic eh? I find it most ironic that the perpetrator of a start should also own the hands of drawing an end. It's one and the same no matter how you look at it. The beginning itself has an unforeseen end embedded in it, and vice versa. And though it is predictable, we often fail to see either, until it's too late. Then again, how is it ever too late to notice something if the beginning and the end is embodied together? I think these two terms have been misunderstood and unjustly separated for long enough.

It suddenly depresses me to think that nothing truly begins nor ends. We've all just been going in circles, that lead us back to where we are, no further to a new beginning nor an end, always.

Yiruma

2008-10-06T22:35:00.002+08:00

I heard a tune today, a tune so familiar that it resonates with the cords in my heart, yet I can't remember when or where I last heard it. It's a simple enough tune, with a melody that reminded me of the past, but I have no idea which memory of the past it is attached to. I just know that I knew the tune from somewhere within me. Have you had moments like these too? I, for one, often find myself relating emotionally to random tunes that I think I've heard once upon a time ago. For all I knew, I might just be hearing the melody for the very first time, yet I believe wholeheartedly that the tune used to belong to me and a forgotten past. It begins to seem like it's alright to forget the exact scene of that particular past, and just let it be represented with a tune. I think that's how great music is supposed to be. They are supposed to tickle your memory and secretly mould themselves into it, hence exuberate a sense of familiarity. It doesn't matter if you're only hearing it for the first time, you'd still felt as if you've known it forever. Perhaps that's the song of your heart.

As for me, the marvellous tune that triggers this chain of thoughts came from Yiruma's 'Kiss the rain'. Listen to it and let me know that I'm not alone in my ability to relate to it so.

drafts

2008-09-21T20:54:00.004+08:00

Throughout my years of blogging, I've made a total of 84 drafts. Some of these got completed and eventually published, while others were left dangling and forgotten, merely existing as a random thought. I begin to pity those thoughts that I failed to elaborate and made known to the world. They seemed abandoned, even though they did exist for a moment in time.

Now I got to wonder, what if my life is as a draft? What if this draft will never be completed? What if this draft is terminated prematurely and forgotten? What if people would never learn of the potential of this draft? Wouldn't that be a waste then?

Or what if this draft is so bad the author simply can't improve on it? Or it's merely worth 2 lines in the pages of life? What if it shall forever remain as a draft, and nothing more?

What if I am a draft?

liars

2008-08-24T21:43:00.001+08:00

ALL MEN ARE LIARS.

happy birthday

2008-08-17T23:38:00.005+08:00

They're both Chinese, both tall, both mata-sepet, both wear a sunshine smile. The likeness is ~85%

World #1 Female Badminton player, Xie Xin Fang

World #1 Cowie Wifey, Tan Su-Lin

Happy 22nd.

dougnuts

2008-08-14T17:52:00.003+08:00

Finally, the invasion has occurred.......and it has never been more welcomed.
Taa-daa~~~~

Malacca's very own Big Apple Doughnut chain. Welcome, alas!

Weekends here will hence be a tad bit more tolerable. =)

advice

2008-08-09T17:09:00.003+08:00

As I uttered those friendly advices, I was temporarily taken aback by the words I was saying. They seemed to make perfect sense as they poured right from my lips, yet I realised how alien I was to them. They were spoken from the depth of my experience and learnings, yet I knew nothing of them. They simply formulated themselves into a sensible structure, then escaped from my mouth. How could that be?

I understand them, theoretically, as they've long been a part of me, but I cannot recognise them. The failure in recognition is, I realise, in large part due to the fact that I never really integrated them into my life. They are merely words I spill to whomever, whenever, wherever. The disappointment!

Now, they began to sting at my heart whenever I spill them forth, for it began to realise how little they were put into actual use. They make me feel guilty for I was always able to polish them to such fine glamour just to be carried around at the corners of my lips, and nothing more. They gnaw at me for my inability to apply it on myself. They drive me mad.

People who are great at giving advices are never great at following them. Perhaps we are our own biggest hypocrite.

oldies

2008-07-31T11:16:00.000+08:00

I’m in love with a song from the 60’s – Moon River. It’s originally composed by Henry Mancini, for the movie “Breakfast at Tiffany’s”. I do not know how this man looked like, but his music is simply mesmerizing. Its slow soothing melody buoys my mind under its calm ripples, carrying me to serenity. This is how the beautifully jaded song goes:

Moon river, wider than a mile.
I’m crossing you in style some day.
Oh dream-maker, you heart-breaker,
wherever you’re going I’m going your way.
Two drifters off to see the world.
There’s such a lot of world to see.
We’re after the same rainbow’s end.
Wait around the bend, my Huckleberry friend,
moon river and me.

Such simple lyrics, yet when teamed with the tune, it becomes such a great song to waltz to. I literally want to waltz with someone! It really booted me into dreamy mode. It’s that good.

alive

2008-07-15T21:58:00.004+08:00

If I were to leave this world alive,
I'd like to carry with me, all the memories that make me smile in my sleep.

If I were to leave this world alive,
I'd like to carry with me, the love that I've been given by everyone that matters.

If I were to leave this world alive,
I'd like to carry with me, the genuity that all the conceit has taught me.

If I were to leave this world alive,
I'd like to carry with me, the innocence that all the knowledge has given me.

If I were to leave this world alive,
I'd like to carry with me, the friendships built on misunderstandings and forgiveness.

If I were to leave this world alive,
I'd like to carry with me, the foes made by jealousy and unmentionable similarity.

If I were to leave this world alive,
I'd like to carry with me, the joyous tears brought on after a rainstorm.

If I were to leave this world alive,
I'd like to carry with me, the grieving smiles that kept me strong.

If I were to leave this world alive,
I'd like to carry with me, the self that I once was, only to be kept as a pleasant reminder.

If I were to leave this world alive,
I'd like to carry with me, the self that I could be, only to be kept as a dream.

If I were to leave this world alive,
I'd like to carry with me, the self that I have become,
because that is who I am.

senses

2008-07-10T00:15:00.003+08:00

Which of your senses do you trust more? What you see, or what you hear? When it comes to a battle between the eyes and ears, which will triumph? Legally, a useful witness is one who directly saw or heard the incident. Even then, more importance seems to be given to vision. So should we really trust our sights more than our hearing?

When two beings come into contact, we naturally make a visual impression in our heads. Minutes later, we add in the auditory impression. 'Loud', 'soft', 'high/low-pitched', 'sweet', 'nagging' etc. And these features do no necessarily stand the test of time. Impressions can change with further observations or conversations. Our impression of a certain someone can improve or worsen over time.

But what happens when your visual impression contradicts your auditory impression? What do you do when a person who seems innocent from the outside, is actually foul-mouthed and verbally abusive? Or a person who holds the funniest and most easy-going conversations actually has a manipulative trait in them? What if what you see is not what you hear? Which would you believe then? It's not about physical crime, it's about impressions, and impressions can be so wrong sometimes. Would you believe what you observe with your eyes or what you hear with your ears?

Personally, I depend on neither. I just live by my gut feelings. I make up my mind regarding a person's character based on my feelings towards him/her. It's a simple 'me likey' or 'me no likey' situation. I can witness someone doing a tonne of good charity work and still insist that he/she is rotten within. Likewise I can hear a person having the smartest conversation with me and decide he/she is actually an empty vessel. It's just a feeling I get when I come into contact with people, that pretty much generates my mental impression of them. I see a sweet girl whom the whole world thinks is the most innocent, yet I think otherwise (not out of spite or jealousy). I hear a boy who flirts with words yet I think he's the most loyal romantic ever (not due to his cute looks).

Impression is a funny thing. Be the judge of your own impressions.

realize

2008-07-07T20:25:00.002+08:00

Does it count if someone realizes his/her mistake only after you've shouted at them? After you've made known your dissatisfaction clearly? Does their repentence count then?

I have a penchant for making people miserable when they do not know their wrong-doings. By 'miserable', I meant sending them away in:
- confusion or
- guilt or
- tears or
- all of the above.
Yes, I'd say it's blatant emotional torture, but now I got to thinking, that perhaps the only person I'm really punishing isn't them, but me.

It's true I often express my emotions out-and-out (and God knows how brutal that can be, sometimes.....more times..), and I have difficulty containing myself when it comes to pointing out my dissatisfaction with regards to another person's speech, action, and sometimes even their looks. Well it's not like I never try to keep it all within. I did try. It just didn't last long enough. The irony is when I've put their wrongs in front of them and made them realize, I just couldn't be bothered with apologies anymore. In my point of view, if I have to make you understand your wrongs, and that you didn't come to the realization on your own, then really, your repentence doesn't carry that much weight anymore.

Is that scary? I newly discovered this trait. I think what I was hoping for was for people to realize their mistakes on their own. Then again, the ball might be thrown back in my face: Would I realize what I've done wrong if nobody tells me? Not really. Nonetheless, I still prefer if all of us could realize our own mistakes without having others point it out to us. Somehow, self-realization seems more valuable.

Just a thought.

washing machine syndrome

2008-06-16T22:52:00.005+08:00

I desperately need a window sill whereby I can sit and watch the world washed by the rain. Preferably, there's lace curtains that can half conceal my physique and perfect my disguise-slash-pretense as a carefree observer. There should also be soft cotton cushions for me to rest my bottoms. That'd make an ideal escapade.
I feel like I'm being locked up in a washing machine and the perpetrator has pressed the 'Spin' button and the timer is set to be 'Forever'. This washing machine syndrome is very paradoxical. I could be in it and let it takes my body and soul for a ride that makes the outside world look so dizzi-fying, yet...yet within I could sometimes feel a certain calm and serenity. Of course, there're also the times when the rides are too nauseous to bear, times when I wholeheartedly wanted to get out but simply can't. That's right, I'm stuck.
I'm crazy. A girl who's living in a washing machine spells trouble. A girl who doesn't know when she will be released from the reign of the machine is petrified. A girl who has no control of the machine is helpless. A girl who sees the world behind the washing machine is simply afraid of it.

alone, again

2008-04-06T01:52:00.003+08:00

I'm single again, as of 1st April 2008.

385 days of relationship abruptly and peacefully ended, amidst torrents of silent tears..

I could easily have been the biggest April fool this year.

It's strange how sensitive a broken heart can be.

Every dark cloud in the sky seems to portray the empty corners of a broken heart.

Every song on the radio seems to sing the aching tenderness of a broken heart.

Every object that once represented love seems to mock a broken heart now.

A lot of 'Why's?' were thrown my way, burdening a head that's fogged by an injured heart. If I could, I'd like to ask Fate why I have to go through it too. Why I have to mourn for a love that once was? Why I fell in love in the beginning, if it's only to end this way? Why does love has to turn so painful? But I don't think I can ever get any answers...

It took 1 year for us to realize the impossible differences we had. Rather, we took 1 year to recognize the painful truth of such unnegotiable differences. We needed a year to understand and respect the differences between us. We needed a year to muster the courage to admit our failure at overcoming such differences. We needed a year to make up our minds for that which is best for both, and that being a separation.

I wake up in the morning, and I wonder

Why everything is the same as it was?

I can't understand

No I can't understand

How life goes on the way it does?

(Vonda Shepard, 'The End of the World')

my pseudo-real world

2008-02-05T02:47:00.000+08:00

It's coming to an end. Of that, I'm sure. It's just a matter of time. Somehow I've always known it'd come, no matter how hard I try to deny it, or fool myself with fantasies of countless 'maybe's'. Even that lullaby has lost its potency now.

There are plenty of questions, and each attached with a pounding heartache that only serve to unleash the floodgates in me, sending down torrential streams of tears.
There are an admixed of emotions, all embedded within the body of a mere 21-year-old, who's been carrying this burden for that full 21 years.

I am not disappointed at how things turn out today. I probably foresaw this years ago, back when I was 6. I am only disappointed at him. Finally, he has given enough reasons to trigger hatred within me. How is that possible? If I could, I wouldn't want to hate him. It's the last thing I'd do. But right now, I'm really disappointed with his actions, or rather, his lack of guilt and a repenting heart. In fact, I'm mad at his pretense of repentance, which is slowly fading off with time, revealing his true identity and intentions that once tainted his image. How could somebody I cherish turn into such a monster overnight? It's bizarre and dumb-founding, but evidence repeatedly proves the darker side of him, so does my gut instinct.

I don't believe it. I don't want to believe it.
I don't want to hate him... I really don't...
I don't wish to confront him harshly and ruin whatever we have now.
But if I don't do something, none of us would be happy.
All 4 of us will just be stuck in this perpetual madness.

Years ago I talked to him about it. That's when he began to respect my voice and power of analysis. Ever since then he takes me seriously when I speak, and I appreciate that privilege. Therefore it seems only appropriate that I use that privilege I earned to resolve the crisis now. I just know I need to talk to him. I don't know what about, or how I'm going to do it, but I just know that I have to. If I don't, everything will be over. Everything.

But I am so afraid of the outcome.

心，话

2008-02-03T03:44:00.000+08:00

两位朋友吵架了。
但其实两位的心都是好的。
甲希望皆反话刺激大伙，好让大伙服从乙的命令。
可是用错词了。
乙只听到反话，没抓到话后的用义。
闷了在胸里的懊恼突然破口而出，短暂地忘了自己。
说了很多难听的话。

一瞬间，两个人处在对立的站台上，
心，乘着怒火，漂远了。
理解，被不满埋藏了。
宽容，变得陌生了。
友谊忽然显得太儿戏了。

两人站在个自的立场上，讲了一些只有在那立场能讲的话，
只怪措辞不够圆滑。
造就了一场不必要的误会。
都是语言的错。
它既能拉近，亦可抛开人与人的距离。

错的话已经说了，
只希望甲和乙能用对的话重新找回对方的心。

Humanity in Medicine

2008-01-19T01:51:00.000+08:00

Gently clutching the mini chess set in my hand, I was excited to set foot into Room 501, Joshua's room. I simply couldn't wait to see his childlike face light up with joy when he sees the gift I got for him on that special day. Indeed, it was Joshua's twelfth birthday, the third time he'd be celebrating his birthday with us here at St. Louis Hopsital.

"Good morning birthday boy!" I exclaimed as I entered the familiar room.

The blue-painted room, decorated with soft curtains and a vase-ful of fresh flowers above the television, was always full of energy owing to Joshua's playful sense of humor and unfailing optimism. It has become my favourite hang-out place amidst my chaotic internship duty schedule. However, there was something different in the air that day...

"Good morning." Joshua replied meekly from his bed and managed to squeeze a faint smile on his pale little face. His mother sat motionless by his bedside, without even acknowledging my presence, as if in a trance.

Joshua reached his right hand out for me. I went over and took his small palm in mine.

"Doc, it's finally time for me to go. Now is the time."

"Oh no, don't say that. You know Dr. Helen, your paediatrician will make you all better soon." I tried to reassure him.

Joshua merely shook his head and said,"No. It's time. I know it."

His words sharply pierced through my heart. I was frozen to the ground. Instantly, a torrent of images whirled through my mind. They were pictures depicting Joshua's painful struggle with Leukemia,the histopathological reports and diagnosis, the chemotherapy, radiotherapy he went through, but amongst this riot of memory there's always one portrait of his cheerful smile, as bright as the sun. How can such an angelic face be taken away from the face of earth?

I couldn't believe the news. I refused to believe it. My chest was getting heavy and I couldn't breathe in that room. So I ran out.

I stopped in the hallway to catch my breath. Leaning against the wall, a thousand questions swam across my mind. Why does it have to be Joshua? Why now? Why take him away now, after he's tried so hard to live? With the advancement in medicine, why is there no cure for leukemia? Why does an innocent kid has to suffer thus? How could God be so cruel?

Nonetheless, I know there's no answer to satisfy my questions. A sense of worthlessness and hopelessness overtook me. Suddenly I felt that my MBBS degree and years of clinical training seem to amount to nothing. I couldn't save a poor kid's life no matter how hard I tried. I was simply helpless and this wave of overpowering emotion made me completely oblivious of Dr Helen's presence right beside me.

"So I guess you found out too huh?" She asked calmly. I could only stare at her through teary eyes, speechless.

"There comes a moment in all practitioners' lives when they realise they can't save everbody. We are not Gods. Medicine is not invincible. We can only try our best." With such words of wisdom, she left me alone to pick up the pieces.

I pondered for a while, then straigtened myself up. I needed to go back into that room. I wanted to accompany Joshua through his last journey in life. I wished for him to know that even if medicine has failed him, humanity will not.

At that moment, I was not his doctor, I was just a fellow human being.

Happiness

2007-12-11T01:42:00.000+08:00

Happiness is just an 8-letter word that holds no meaning for most people. In fact, some of us spend half a lifetime chasing after it; some own it but fail to acknowledge its presence. It's too easy to be overlooked, even easier to plunge into the other extreme-unhappiness. However, life is never really too harsh on us. We always retain the right to choose, to want happiness or unhappiness. Yet it's amazing how often we foolishly wound up on the wrong path. Maybe it's just our heads playing tricks with us, or maybe it's the insatiable desire to want more. A second-hand convertible can make a teenager glow, but not for a middle-aged man. He'd at least need a Mercedes S class, or any equivalent. Thus, we constantly toil under unhappiness, grudgingly pursuing happinees, which is as good as a mirage in the vast desert of life. Happy pursuing your mirage!

Death at first sight

2007-12-01T23:32:00.001+08:00

Sight is the most globally abused sensation of mankind. I think it constitutes 80% of our interaction with the world outside. For instance, in a 10-minute job interview, you'd expect your would-be employers to study your resume thoroughly where in truth they might only be interested in the plunging neckline of your white pleated shirt, or your unkempt moustache. On a blind date, would you even bother to walk up to the table by which is seated (in your opinion) the most unsightly date you can imagine? Piercings, shabby cargo pants that need washing, multiple body tattoos, nails with apparent nicotine stain etc, just to name a few things that the general public consider 'unpleasant'. The stigma that comes along with each unpleasantness we perceive is as good as a death penalty. How often would you give the homeless man a second look and wonder if he'd make a good employer? How is it possible to dine with a stranger that totally doesn't suit your taste? First impressions are that important, and it's gradually becoming the social death sentence in our community. A patient would lose a tad of confidence upon meeting a young doctor who's in jeans, lose another tad of sense of security when he sees body piercings on the doctor, and probably walk out of the clinic if the doctor stutters. Sad, but this is the kind of world we live in these days, where first impressions colour our primary judgement.

Yesterday

2007-11-28T16:02:00.000+08:00

Yesterday I wrote for my shell. I forgot about my soul.
Yesterday I wrote to hurt others. I forgot that it hurt me too.
Yesterday I wrote about anger. I forgot happiness.
Yesterday I wrote with frustration. I forgot about peace.
Yesterday I wrote of envy. I forgot to be grateful.
Yesterday I wrote on failures. I forgot about courage.
So I deleted all my yesterdays, at least physically.
Today will be tomorrow's yesterday,
And I honestly hope I can make a difference.

Memory

2007-10-02T12:51:00.000+08:00

Memory
It's a very peculiar thing. Most people believe it only lives within some treasured parts of your brain. Some even say it only lives in the past. But I think it lives in the present, ever-present. It can fully materialise into objects, taking the forms of an old jaded picture, a familiar melody or even a ribbon. It can also transform into more delicate forms such as those that could only be fulfilled by the senses. The sight, the smell, the taste, the hearing, the touch. All of these are parts of our lives. So who can really say that a memory only belongs to the past?