Archive for the ‘Remembered’ Category

Two Hundred and Thirty-Nine.
March 10, 2014

That’s two hundred and thirty-nine lives.

That’s over two hundred souls, vanished. Like dust in the noonday light; floating and basking and falling, landing into a neat nook, completely gone to the naked eye.

No signs of wreckage, no conclusive debris found.

Over two hundred souls on board. Did they even have the time react to whatever that came their way? How many seconds of prayer did they have to make peace with the lives they have lead?

67 hours on and no distress calls, no Emergency Locator Transmitter, no signals of any sort. Nothing.

Two hundred and thirty-nine lives.

Two hundred and thirty-nine souls.

The world suddenly seems a lot smaller and bigger at the same time.

“You know you’re fucked when those late night thoughts start hitting you in the middle of the day.”

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The Things You’d Rather Forget.
August 23, 2012

I just keep thinking about that night, that ride back.

The god awful smell of ‘herb’ and spice and the not so subtle sour twinge of sweat. The alternating light and dark as we zoomed past streetlights. The stillness or about as much of you that you can get riding around Kuala Lumpur in an old taxi cab in the wee hours of the morning. The annoying whir of the engine groaning and our steady breaths. Your head on my shoulders. Contentedness.

But I find the details slipping from me too quickly.

I don’t think I even remember your face anymore.

And I keep listening to the songs that make you remember the things you’d rather forget.

It’s been two years.

I miss you.

“This is to a girl who got into my head,
With all the pretty things she did.”

A Fine Frenzy.
August 14, 2012

To be honest, I don’t know how we got here. Or why we’re here. I read and re-read our old exchanges dating back 3 years and I still don’t know. But I feel the need to clear this up.

If I were to die tomorrow, morbid as that sounds, I want at least what I am going to say here to be clear to you.

I didn’t know how to explain then. I didn’t know how to tell you that saying goodbye that first time didn’t mean I was giving up. I was tired; I wanted a break, a breather, an easy out. Because it was exhausting what we had. Truth be told, weren’t you a little tired too? Not just physically, but mentally and emotionally and whatever other –ally’s that you can come up with?

The truth is that I had to get away from myself more than I did from you.

Because I was so far from the person I needed to be. So far from the perfection that was demanded of me. The perfection that, in retrospect, I put upon myself more than anything. Because 3 years ago, I saw myself through a movie screen, a high definition, grand resolution, 10 storey high film screen that had my flaws and mistakes and slip ups sprawled across it for me to wince and bite my nails at every step along the way.

And ironically, our situation was probably the perfect recipe of a badly constructed romantic comedy that neither one of us would be caught dead watching. Except it didn’t end nearly as peachy or as corny as a romantic comedy should’ve ended. And for a very long time I found myself being stuck. Stuck because I wanted you, but I couldn’t have you.

And even though I never admitted it out loud, I clung on to the hope that we were still heading off in the same direction. That we were still sharing the same orbit, a gravitational pull that binds us together by something so much bigger that the Earth’s pull on humanity. That maybe someday, if we both don’t stray too far from the path, we might just crash into each other again.

But we have an expiration date. We did from the start. And we never really were, even though we felt so strongly and so much.

I’ll admit that you a left heartcrack so fragile that I thought no one could ever fill that dark and treacherous rift. But I will always maintain that the best mistake I ever made was at 18. Because sometimes, talking to strangers can be the best thing a girl can do.

And since we’re in the business of truth telling, I might as well; I do miss you.

I miss telling you everything. I miss talking to you about everything. Every detail, every insignificant moment, every inconsequential impulse, every trivial matter. I miss talking to you. I miss our conversations.

But at the same time, I don’t.

Because people change. Feelings change. But it doesn’t mean what we had wasn’t true or real. It just means that we’ve grown so much from who we once were. And along the way we grew apart. But I will always be grateful for you, no matter how much pain we caused each other along the way.

I’m self destructive, I’m fickle and I’m a hot bed of emotional mess (as you’ve become so well acquainted with) but I’m no longer that girl you used to know. I’m better at living with my decisions now, despite having to bear the consequences of it.

That first goodbye was not a first goodbye, my darling. That first goodbye was the goodbye. And no amount of Jack and Coke or heartache can ever change that.

I said nothing when I should have said so much. And I’m sorry for that. But we could’ve talked forever and never come to a proper close. So here I am.

“Goodbye, my almost lover,
Goodbye, my hopeless dream.”

The Anywhere-But-Here-Syndrome.
August 9, 2012

I go to seek the great perhaps. And I’m glad you do too. We can seek it together perhaps.

“Not all those who wander are lost.”
J.R.R. Tolkien

Strikhedonia.
August 2, 2012

To making the best of it all. To dreaming dangerously. To running to the edge. To embracing dumbness and audacity. To exciting new experiences. To living in the moment. To conquering. To breaking all the rules. To moving forward. To new horizons. To fulfilling. To striving. To reaching for the stars. To being uninhibited. To being kind. To growing. To dropping fears and taking risks. To being passionate. To seeing the beauty. To discoveries. To giving it your all. To having strength and courage. To the unchartered territories. To sailing out to open seas without supplies. To beginnings. To adventures. To saying ‘the hell with it.’

(To you, whom I knew was trouble from the start.)

No. Just no.
April 28, 2012

Today has not been a day for you to channel your anger towards the law enforcement or how inept you think they are.

Today has not been the day for you to fight back because you feel you’ve been on the losing end of justice for too long.

Today has not been a day for you to channel your contempt towards the government.

No. Just no.

Bersih 3.0 was not an anti government protest. It is not a call for unity to bring down the regime of a certain party that has been in power too long.

No.

Bersih is and always have been a call for a cleaner election. A call for electoral reforms. A call for Malaysians to stand up for civil liberties.

Over 80 cities and 30 countries took part in Global Bersih and all eyes were on Malaysia today, us, this small cilli padi of a nation as I prefer to call us. And we descended into anarchy and chaos.

The rally had already archived a remarkable feat of more than 100, 000 people. There was no need for the violence on both sides. There was no reason for breaking through barricades and provoking violence in the attendee’s, sparking knee jerk reactions from the law enforcement.

Just. No.

As I read on about the news of casualties and how angry the people are, and how we’ve made it onto the world news again  and again for unsavoury reasons, there is just a sinking sensation I feel at the pit of my stomach.

I guess I’m just disappointed. Because really? Is this really who we are? Is this really all that we’re capable of? Is this all that there is to us deep down? All instinct and chaos and a hunger to watch things burn?

“Because some men aren’t looking for anything logical, like money. They can’t be bought, bullied, reasoned or negotiated with. Some men just want to watch the world burn.”
The Dark Knight (2008)

Saudade.
April 21, 2012

Watching the video for the umpteenth time, I can’t help but feel slightly melancholic. It’s a longing for something that seems gone forever because how do you recapture your childhood when the things that made it so memorable is spread out so vast and wide and out of reach;

The sun. And trees. And sand. And grass. The playground. The creepy forbidden areas in school with the ‘Keep Out’ signs. The gravelly back roads. The gravelly front roads. The window grills. The couch. Books. And pens. And paper. Colour pencils. Shiny swirly coloured pens. Paint brushes. The kids at school. The neighbourhood kids. The kids at the park. The stray cats. The stray dogs. Grasshoppers. Butterflies. Those dumb openable egg things with like a toy car in it that breaks after a week. Ice cream days. Junk food days. Long walks. Short walks. Running. Sprinting. Bicycling. Recess time. Play pretend. Made up games. Monkey bars. The badminton racket. Discmans. Walkmans. CRT tellies. Cassette tapes. CD’s that cost a lot more than a week’s worth of pocket money. The bath tub. Everything the sun touches. Everything the sun didn’t.

The world was our playground. And the video does an excellent job capturing these memories.

It’s odd to think how this generation could make a video about their childhood. Hard to make pre pubescent children and adolescents staring into computers and phones and tablets strike a chord like this, wouldn’t it?

“People Change. Memories don’t.”

4 Years.
February 29, 2012

Half an hour till March arrives, and February has been a weird roller coaster of an emotion ride.

Everything has just rushed by and I hardly have the time to catch my breath let alone psycho analyze it or talk it out with myself or, anyone really.

But it’s always comforting to know that there are people whom will gladly be up for the task if you need them to be.

2012, Please Be Worth It.
January 1, 2012

Here’s the mandatory ‘By Golly Gee Whiz, what a year it’s been!!’ post. And yes, this is me trying to be not so much of a pain in the ass despairing realist by spewing hopeful words of wainbows and butterflies, jumping onto the whole ‘new year, new start’ bandwagon.

So, where to start. From the beginning then. 2011. What can I say? 2011 has been a year of change for me. But then again, every year has been a year of change for me. And I find myself being such a fool who can barely keep up. Such a stumbling, bumbling idiot, tripping over her own feet. And it’s just so difficult because everyday I yearn to find myself amidst the rubble because I don’t know what I am anymore.

Last year, like a certain song that touched me so much, I vowed to get up and go. I vowed to move on. I vowed to let things go and not spend my whole life holding on. Clearly, yet again at the end of the year, I am not the person I promised I would be at the beginning year.

Letting go isn’t as easy as I thought it would be. Having the courage to ensure I can pick myself up and move on is not what I envisioned it to be like. Not even a little. Not even at all. And so, I relapsed into many a thing that I vowed to let go and move on from, because you’re never as strong as you would have yourself believe. I’ve learned that the hard way.

But I digress. I kind of do that a lot. Back to it, where was I? Right. 2011.

2011 has been such a tidal wave of change for me, yet again. It has been a year of many firsts, many revelations, many adventures, many hurts and many pains. But what is life without them, right? And for 2012, I hope that the changes that roll around surely as they will, will be worth it.

I hope that I will hurt more (but not too much pleasekthanks) and grow stronger from them even more. That I will keep dreaming hard enough and persevere for the dreams to exist in my waking world. That I will be patient and make mistakes and be able to admit them and learn from them and move on better than I have this year. That I will breathe, and love, and live.

And most of all, I hope that for you too, you reading this. Wherever you are, whatever you’re doing, however you’re hurting, whomever you may be missing.

“How do you pick up the threads of an old life? How do you go on, when in your heart, you begin to understand, there is no going back? There are some things that time cannot mend. Some hurts that go too deep… that have taken hold.” 
J.R.R. Tolkien, The Return of the King

Steven Paul.
October 6, 2011