Are you a cat or dog person?

I realised that as we grow older, it seems harder to form connections with other people. Maybe that’s how the cat lady came about, it’s just easier to form a connection with a cat, or dog.

But then again, maybe it’s just me.

Some people might even say that I am cold. But hey, if you piss me off and don’t apologize or mend your ways I’m not gonna continue taking your shit. I mean, why bother? I have a handful of close friends, and at least I know if my world’s caving in, they’ll be the ones who will dig me out of the rubble.

I noticed that it’s so much easier to severe a connection than build one, which I don’t think is a surprising fact for anyone. It’s not like anyone can be your best friend, or that person you can count on right? As I grew older, the number of close friends I have started to dwindle. And it’s not that I didn’t try to make time for them, but instead, they don’t seem to have time for me anymore.

At least I tried my best. And of course, I have Brandy. Maybe I’ll get another dog, the Martini I always wanted.



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30
Aug
2009

But can I kiss you again?

Hello this is Shiro, hikari’s 7 week old Japanese Spitz. He is the cutest white furball who sleeps like a dead log!



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27
Aug
2009

Is too much passion bad for your health?

When I was young girl, I admired my career-driven mom a lot. I wanted to be just like her – the office suits, sexy heels, charismatic personality, the nice car, the happy family – I wanted it all. I always had big plans, ambitions to do things, not just anything but BIG things. I always aimed high and dreamt of more. And I could never comprehend why some people just don’t have the same passion as me. Isn’t it normal for one to strive for the best? Doesn’t everyone want to be at the top? Why do some people chose to settle?

10 years later, I realise I am still wandering around, but I damn sure have not lost my passion. I am a creature of fire and I now have a tattoo that reminds me to shoot for the stars, every single day. Do my best and I won’t have anyone else to blame but myself. Edison had the right idea – I didn’t fail, I just found 10,000 ways that didn’t work. Sure, I have no idea what I really want to do yet but I still have those trusty 5 year plan and goals to achieve by when and where. Though I must admit I’m great at making these goals and plans but not so good at executing them. But hey, making these goals is the first step right?

And as I grew older (and slightly wiser), I noticed friends who settle and I made it my mission to encourage them to do the opposite. I remember a friend confessing her dreams of being in the fashion world to me, and she was surprised I actually wanted to help her make her dream real. She expected people to dismiss her as being a dreamer, wanting to do the impossible. First of all, why are these people so cruel? Stepping on dreams that are not even yours!

I think a lot of times when I do this encouraging and give them hope, I come across as being pushy, which I suppose is my downfall. But how can I let great potential slip by? Especially if there are in people I care for? What is wrong with wanting only the best for them? I guess my way of pushing myself just doesn’t fit everyone out there.

Most of the time, I realise how little passion people of today have and I feel sad. What happened to that generation of people that had the biggest dreams and the utmost passion to achieve them? Have we all succumbed to this digital age, settling in front of our computers, living a hedonistic yet unfulfilling life? What happened to those good old virtues of hardwork, dedication, sacrifice and priorities?

Sometimes, I feel oddly misplaced in this world of hedonism and pleasure-seeking, with my big dreams and grand plans for the future.



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24
Aug
2009

Sleep, don’t weep

So for most weekdays, I wake up at 6am and get to uni library by 8.30am. Then I will work my ass off on assignments, readings and what not until 5.25pm. Breaks are quite out of the question because of the availability of computers in the library. If I leave to go pee, and even if I leave my books/papers at the computer, most likely someone else would shamelessly push them aside, log me out of the computer and use it. So I have mastered the art of peeing once a day, during my short 20 min lunch break when I leave the comp and get a bite. Then I will proceed to have lunch at the library, but at the table instead of computer while doing my readings.

So, half day computer, half day at the desk. Perfect.

Then class starts from 5.30 – 8.30pm, sometimes ending earlier. By the time I take the tram, train AND drive home, it’s about 10.15pm. Light dinner, some tv, some surfing the net and then it’s time for bed at about 11.30 – 12am. By this time I would be exhausted and would just wanna have a good night’s sleep. But noooooo, I won’t be able to sleep. Even though I’m tired, I will toss and turn for at least 1.5 hours before I actually fall asleep at about 1.30am and next thing I know my alarm is screaming at me at 5.50am again.

Fuck. I NEED sleep. Not because I’m lazy but because my body needs sleep or I’m gonna crash on the train one day. I have a doctor’s appointment in a week, she’s probably going to give me sleeping pills or some sort of medication. At this point, I’ll take anything to sleep well.



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21
Aug
2009

She wore blue velvet, bluer than velvet was the night

I think one can only be considered a grown up when one can sit at the cafe by themselves, a cigarette, a book, a black coffee only as accompaniment. But one would not want to sit in just any coffee shop. It would be a coffee shop with the best coffee, and billie holiday singing through old records that still have those crackling sounds. A sunny bustling day wouldn’t do either, but a cold rainy day would. Seattle would be the perfect place for that, I would drown in Billie Holiday, mulling over a book, pretending to be light at heart. But I am convinced San Francisco is where I would find my free spirit again.

I feel old, but not any wiser.



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19
Aug
2009

Protected: Where does the good go?

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15
Aug
2009

I can’t do the walk, I can’t do the talk, I can’t be your friend, unless I pretend

There are a lot of things misunderstood and misinterpreted. A lot of things not explained, at least not as clearly as I want it to be. Because I’m still hella confused and hurt by all these things misunderstood and misinterpreted.

What we once had was so precious, neither wanted to let go.
Now it seems the other just can’t wait to drop it like a hot potato.
While I hold on tightly still and secretly chant “don’t let me go”.
Like in The Fray’s song,
don’t let me go. 

I miss writing. I miss summer. I miss feeling something other than sad. And so I bury myself between the shelves of books, attempting to hide from this bad bad world, and concerntrate, focus on something that will reel some sort of tangible result. I miss writing, but most importantly, I miss being myself. How did I lose that in the first place?

“Mental note: after love must keep everything fresh then get bread.”
- Alicia Sometimes, Da Vinci’s List

I’m going to go get bread now.



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14
Aug
2009
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