041: Feather kisses

This is a melatonin-induced post.

So far, I’m on pill #5. Still no sleep for the weary. The shadows under my eyes are unbecoming. Actually pretty scary, because I look even more sullen and older now. Am not ready to get back on the hard stuff, so trying to take it easy and go herbal. It is supposed to work in line with me almost-vegetarian lifestyle. Thus far, I have fallen off the wagon once in the past two weeks in my Quit Smoking campaign; as for the chemical-free promise, I’m on the right track.

Looking forward to birthday plans. On Friday, we’re having dinner at Maha, a middle-eastern restaurant which I’ve heard rave reviews about. Saturday brunch probably at Cavallero, and for dinner, I’m going to try my luck with Movida, a tapas restaurant that is practically impossible to get a reservation at, because they can only house max. 15 persons in one seating. If Movida is a no go, we’ll adjourn to Longrain (Thai fusion) instead.

The following week, I’ll be catching Gordon Ramsay at the Good Food & Wine festival. Crazy excited about that, am his biggest fan. Still contemplating Winter Soundsystem music festival, not sure if I’m up for a big clean night…

Plans aside, have started the breaking of my rental lease. Total mess if you ask me. My agent doesn’t have a clue what she’s doing. I dropped my main building key more than a month ago (over Easter) and she hasn’t gotten around to replacing the key. I have to enter my building via the carpark, and that means I have to carry the remote out with me all the time. Bloody inconvenient. Now, she’s trying to make me cough up the penalty fee, when it should just be deducted from my bond. So it’s basically an on-going battle of nasty phone hang-ups and rude-ass emails. With the current economic climate, it’s becoming a pain to try to sell off my stuff. I know I’m a fool for impulse purchasing the Guitar Hero World Tour complete band set, 42-inch plasma, and Xbox360 when my advertising career got off on shaky start.

Now I’m just trying to get organised and stop half-arsing around. I will probably take the Xbox console home with me and just get rid of whatever I can. As for my furniture, they’re all in newish condition and I’m just going to give them away if no one expresses interest. My car is the biggest worry. I need to get down to getting it road-worthy, photographed and CLEANED – messy ass. GAH! So much to do, so little time and no money at all.

I know that when I get back home to Singapore, I seriously need to clean up my act and kick-start my career again. No fooling around, because I actually enjoy working. Bring on the monotony. I’m glad to be getting out of Melbourne because the working lifestyle here is just… backward. Agencies not open to trying new things and giving opportunities to newbies. There’s an ageing population here, older people not retiring and holding onto their jobs, whilst the younger generation graduate and not have jobs because the Baby Boomers aren’t freeing them up. It’s the same thing with the ‘give the job to the locals, the foreigners can afford to live here without income’. RIGHT. Playing it safe just doesn’t cut it anymore in the 21st century. Always will be at back-end of things and in the instance of this economy crisis take longer to recover. Best to face up to reality, stop giving people false hopes, cease ripping off foreigners and start realising the potential said people offer to a country. Not like I’m a politician, but I believe that it pays to be open to the opinions of others and receptive to the new things they bring to a country. You know what they say about that bird with its head stuck under the sand. Also, if you’re going to come to my country and demand respect, best you show me the same respect.

What a lengthy entry. Much ado about nothing. It’s the melatonin droning on. Good night, I will find more substantial and less abrupt things to write about soon. Maybe 27 will help me become more organised and less flaky. Die ADD, die.

025: mirror mask

A lot can happen in 24 hours.

A friend I used to go to school with (college) lost his battle with leukemia today. He’s just a year older than me. We had a lot of good times. My dear reader, if you don’t know me too well, it might come as news to you that I do not deal well with death. I fantasize about my own death day in and out (it gives me something to do), but everytime someone close to me or someone I know pretty well passes away, I go into emotional/mental shutdown. This time is no different.

I saw this coming, we knew he was struggling to combat his illness, he was one hell of a fighter. But still it breaks me to know. Life is so fragile. I am shutting down as I write this.

I had another sleepless night and it was a wonder that I managed to get myself out of bed and leave the house. Went for coffee with a friend and we tried to think of solutions to my current situation. I just need to get my head in the right place and stop wallowing in self-pity. The replaying of negative events and over-analysing has to cease once and for all. So yes, I’m more or less set on going back to Singapore. But in the next month, I need to get my act together and grow a thicker skin. Have a new game plan to write to editors and try to set up meetings with them to show my work. In Singapore, I’m constantly putting myself out there and meeting new people. My life in Melbourne is mellow and therefore I hardly get out. There’s no meeting new people and creating opportunities. I’m so wrapped up in my misery that I’ve stopped making the effort. Gone is the fun and outgoing Alicia, enter Miss-fucking-misery at her best. Oh boy, do I make great company. I wonder which is healthier: emotional or apathetic. I do the latter pretty well when I’m on my meds. This is also part of the game plan, as I do need to get myself out of bed every morning in order to function.

So I had this game plan all set, but I came home to terrible news of AD’s death. Broke me completely. Lost it. I spent hours bawling my eyes out and spilling my guts over the phone to anybody who’d listen. Now I’ve drained myself of liquid, here I am. Still asking why, and unsure of my next move now. Even more afraid of rejection and want so badly to run away.

I need the strength to get past this, am desperate to get back on track. Death is life. Life is death.

“It should have been me.”

God, save my soul.

024: interruption

Have reverted back to my old ways. Can no longer fall asleep before 5am. Much torture it is as I’m up by 11am, moping around the house, counting away the minutes and before you know it, it’s another sleepless night.

Trying to put my life and what’s been happening around me into perspective. Had one of those heartbreaking heart-to-hearts again and it’s just never been something I could walk away from feeling lighter.

I have come to a point in life where reality is rearing its ugly head at me. I have nowhere to hide and I need to be an adult about the whole situation. I have to start somewhere and at the same time I want to reach for the skies. I am torn. Yet, as I grow older I begin to feel more and more rooted by familial obligations. I am not resentful at that. I lead very different lives from many of my newer friends here in Melbourne. While they are free to do the things we all want to do, I on the other hand feel like I’ve been left to my own devices for over 20 years and its time I came back down to earth. I should not be comparing myself to others, as I have been very blessed and lucky.

I do not for one know what it is to really struggle to make ends meet. Well, I do sort of know now since I’m flat out on cash and there’s no daddy’s trustfund to get me out of the hole I dug. I cling onto my old life with all the strength I have and refuse to grow out of my irresponsible ways. My whole life, I spend avoiding my responsibilities and indulging in all sorts of destructive vices known to mankind. Still, I’m not closer to finding out who I really am and what I really want.

Even the relationships I have with people are telling. I won’t let the ones who want to love me, love me. And the very few times I have chosen to fall in love, were with people who were absolutely emotionally unattainable. I am so lost, I’m stumbling around and messing up the order of things in my own life.

Feel like I need to cut my losses and get real for once. For my family and for the friends who really care. I need to give up on those hard-partying ways, they never do fill any gaps and end up excavating more problems. It is with a heavy heart and at the same time lighter one that I lean further towards the decision to return home to Singapore.

I no longer care about the problems and people I was trying to escape. There are bigger demons awaiting me.

023: the softest touch and quietest whisper

The weekend went by in a blur. Okay, alcohol-fueled blur/daze/train-wreck. I find that in this state of hopelessness, I’d rather not have people around me and instead indulge in destructive drinking and the slow-killing of my liver. How intelligent and mature of me. Follow in the foot steps of my grandfather. Actually, I do have people around me, but most of the time I just block them all out. I brush my feelings aside, making cruel jokes poking fun at myself, this I find has become my anomaly.

People often accuse me of having serious intimacy issues. When I’m feeling down, I’d rather wallow in self-pity and push everyone else away. I don’t want to be loved or cuddled. I just want to immerse myself in morbidness until I break out of it on my own. I feel as though I’ve wandered around in darkness most of my life, and since I managed on my own, I don’t want someone’s hand to hold/guide me through. To a certain extent, I fear giving someone else the responsibility/power. I refuse to be taken care of. It exposes me and forces me to open up. Somehow the few times I’ve tried have backfired, so I’d rather just make those falls on my own and pick myself up. That way, we’re even.

You ask me why I can’t just let you love me. This is why.

Where is this love? I can’t see it, I can’t touch it. I can’t feel it. I can hear it. I can hear some words, but I can’t do anything with your easy words. – Closer.

015: what’s wrong with this picture

I risk sounding like a gibbering idiot. This is my very frail attempt at updating.

Went to Future music festival yesterday. Survived 10 hours of partying and surprisingly only made two trips to the portaloos. Meh. Was off my face, and it was super hot in the day, then it got really cold when the sun set. Watched CSS, Richie Hawtin, Mr Ozio, Steve Angello, Etienne and the last two minutes of N.E.R.D. Missed Basement Jaxx completely. Went totally ape shit at the cab company when my cab didn’t turn up, and almost trashed a car parked off the street in frustration (road rage!). Came home and played some guitar hero, talked on the phone forever and passed the fuck out for not very long.

See, told you I’d not sound normal at all. Well, if you asked me to describe my day at Future, it was mildly disappointing, too crowded (I hate crowds) and the party was more or less in my head. I kinda lost it towards the end of the day, but it’s all good now. I think. It will definitely take me awhile to get over the massive day, a usual when one hits the festivals.

Now, it’s just back to the job hunt. I need some sort of normalcy in my life. This week, I’m all booked up for meetings and to-dos. Keeping myself busy, not reading too much into anything.

Let me just be vague and say, I’m trying very hard to not be disappointed in what conspired (or did not) yesterday. Big downer.

013: the 25 things you might or might not know about me

So I decided against posting this on Facebook, despite being tagged a couple of times. I think it’s good enough here:

1. I am the biggest procrastinator around. I give all my Libran friends a hard time for procrastinating, but it’s a case of the pot calling the kettle black. I can hardly make plans without bailing on them at the last minute, I often tell myself and anyone who would listen that I WILL do something but end up not doing it at all when the time comes.

2. My mother can cook, my brother can cook, and everyone around me seems to be able to cook. As for me, I can’t cook to save my life. Once, I almost singed off my eyebrows trying to make dinner for a boyfriend and set his apartment on fire, since that incident, he put me on washing up duty. People often wonder how I survived living alone for so many years, take out is the answer.

3. I might not be able to cook, but I’m one hell of a baker. When I decide to get down and dirty with flour, I can give Betty Crocker a run for her money. The brownies I make are awesome, and the last time I made them from scratch was some time in 2005. Well, I haven’t made any attempts to bake again because I figured no one could tell the difference whether it was my mother’s recipe or a $5 box of Shake and Bake.

4. My good friend, Sandra and I, once went on the Celebrity Juice diet after Christmas. For three days we survived on drinking this foul juice concoction (from GNC) we had to dilute with water, and sip it for hours – no gulping, just sipping. We weren’t allowed to eat anything, and somehow we survived. When we got back to the office (Bazaar) after the holidays, everyone was raving about how ‘skinny’ we looked and that we had ‘cheekbones’ (best compliment you could get from the fashion kind). We celebrated for about 2 hours then went for a photoshoot where we demanded the photographer ordered us KFC for lunch. Satisfying indeed.

5. I’m a total geek at heart. I love books. I am obsessed with books. I love their smell and when you crack open the spine of a brand new book, that sound is music to my ears. Fetish much? Anyway, I can read my life away, and I usually get through books pretty fast. Genre-wise, I especially love my graphic novels and sci-fi stuff. I look like I don’t belong at Comic Mart, but that place is my Fun Fun Island.

6. Speaking of reading, I have a bad habit of turning to the back to read the ending. I usually do this when the suspense of the story is too much for me to take. I have to know. I always have to know. It would kill me not to know.

7. When I was 17, I dressed like a $2 skank. I shopped at HoundDog, and I loved my clothes, shiny, tight and short. Covering up was so not my thing then.

8. Before I hit my skank-phase, I never owned anything that wasn’t black, blue or white. I also never wore skirts and dresses. I lived in my black-and-white striped Guess oversized Tee and Beverly Hills 90210 (yeah they sold them at Daimaru) denim Bermudas. My brother taunted me for months calling me a butch because I didn’t embrace my feminine side.

9. I am obsessed with cosmetic surgery. If Extreme Makeover contacted me, my list of To-Dos is neverending. The funny thing is, people think I’m really confident about the way I look, but I grew up being the Ugly Duckling. My family used every opportunity to ridicule the way I looked, and I was so afraid that when I grew up no one would date me because I’m too fugly for my own good. I’m still dealing with those insecurities, which is why I can never accept a compliment graciously.

10. I always say I could never suffer from an eating disorder because I love my food too much. But a few years ago back in Singapore, I was binge-drinking every night like a fish, then this activity was followed by a heavy supper. Every night without fail, I’d stumble home, no matter how drunk I was and make myself sick. Not because I had the urge to vomit, but because I felt absolutely disgusting eating all that crap, so I’d put my fingers down my throat and make myself throw-up. It was a lowlight of my life then and when I think about it now, I’d say I suffered from some form of bulimia. I still have issues with my weight, and like every other girl, I have my fat days. There’s a reason why I hate weighing myself and always tell people I’m 50kilos.

11. I am one of the most morbid people around. I speak of death without fear and often fantasize about my death. It started when I was a kid, and I usually spooked my friends out, because they couldn’t understand why anyone at the age of 12 wanted to die when she was 18. When I hit 18, I gave myself to 21. Now, it’s 28. Don’t ask me why, I just have a sick fascination with my own death.

12. I get annoyed when my undergarments don’t match. I’m a bit better now, as long as they match in colour. But back then, they had to come in sets and match what I was wearing on the outside.

13. My favourite number is 11 because I used to love Patrik Berger when he was playing for Liverpool. He was the reason why my jersey number was 11 when I played field hockey back in high school. But Steve McManaman, he was the reason why I chose to be a left-winger. And believe it or not, I was once very good at that. Then I discovered dating, and gave it all up.

14. I talk about sex all the time. It’s like an itch I have to scratch. I just like talking about it and listening to what others have to share. It’s not that I’m dirty-minded, but it’s because it says a lot about a person what they are telling or not telling you. Needless to say, my favourite drinking game is Never Ever.

15. I used to do Chakrah meditation, and it was a life-changing experience. I highly recommend it to people all the time, because it made me discover a lot about myself. During one session, specifically when we were practicing the heart chakrah, I had a massive breakdown in class. At that time, I was plagued with nightmares of my then-boyfriend cheating on me (every fucking night), and I couldn’t tell any of my friends because I was afraid that they’d say “I told you so” or “It’s a sign. He is cheating on you”, so I broke down in class and bawled my eyes out in front of 8 strangers. It was liberating.

16. I am judgemental. The moment I meet someone, I either like or dislike them. Not for random reasons, but because I have a gut feeling about what kind of person he/she really is. 9 times out of 10, I’m right about them. I don’t waste my time on people I don’t like or can’t get along with, because life is too short (remember I only have till 28) to be taken on a ride. Besides, I do have enough friends already.

17. Having said the above, I’m bad with men. I can’t tell if they are major assholes even if they had it imprinted on their forehead. My friends often tell me that I have a Bastard-radar, I can spot them from anywhere. And I always want to date them.

18. In college, I thought my life was over when a girl went around spreading that I was a slut, and her guy friend told anyone who would listen that I was ugly as fuck. I didn’t understand why people were so mean, then I remembered I was a mean girl back in high school. I was a bit of a bully (okay, a lot), and karma is really a bitch.

19. When I was 13, I mangled my own wrist on my marble table and just to make sure it was not going to function, I slammed my door on it. I did it just so I could get out of a hockey match, it was really dumb. I can never bowl right now. My wrist acts up after the strain, so I’m the fool stuck using the kids’ ball.

20. I used to be somewhat of a popular/avid Internet blogger. #2 on most read list and I got typecast as the girl who would most likely die from a drug overdose in some gutter. I was 19 then. And I get embarrassed thinking how I put my life on display, especially during my very shit years.

21. I remember telling my best friend many years ago that I looked forward to getting old. Now, I’m about to turn 27, I’m shitting my pants. So when people tell me I look 23, I’m like a kid in a candy store. When I get carded at bars/clubs, I’m in cloud nine.

22. I’m an obnoxious drunk. I blame it on the treatment I got used to back in the day when I was still working in publishing. Actually, that doesn’t make me an obnoxious drunk and just plain obnoxious. I don’t queue up to get into anywhere, I don’t like having to wait 15 minutes for my drink to materialise and I get majorly offended when people ask me if I’m on the guestlist. This is the reason why my friends threw me a ‘Do you know who I am?’ farewell party when I left Singapore. Complete with “I refuse to pay”, “Alicia says so” and a lot of other arrogant stuff I’ve said stickers. It was a blast.

23. I never learnt how to drive till I was 25. Because I truly believed that I was born to be chauffeured around by cab drivers. I never got into the groove of taking public transports, and spent $50 a day traveling to work and back home. Had a total wake up call when I moved back to Melbourne and lived in Epping. Suburbia totally gave me a right kick in my ass, and this explains my P-plates. At 27, I’m a born loser.

24. I never cry at weddings. Officially, my excuse is “my heart is dead”. Unofficially, I’m just not big on weddings. If I ever got married, it would be in Vegas. Because I’m tacky like that and could deal without all the hoo-haa, and the drama of having to keep my parents from ripping each other’s throats out.

25. I was in love with one boy for 7 years. I fell in love with him at first sight at 17; I just knew he was my soulmate then. Yes, other people came into my lives during those 7 years and while I threaded around one other very serious relationship and a few foolish ones, he always held a special place in my heart.When I was 21, everyone told me I’d regret having wasted most of my youth on him. Today, I still think of him as one of my greatest loves. No one can understand it, and I guess that’s the beauty in it. He is an amazing person with the biggest heart, and he often comes off as arrogant but he has the goods to back it up. Deep down, he’s just so beautiful and there was a time when I so fucking badly wanted him to be the man I marry and the father to our children. It never did work out because the odds were against us, but I count myself lucky to have him in my life. I sometimes still think we would have great looking kids together. It’s wishful thinking at its best.

That was long.

004: but you said we were forever

“My mother groaned, my father wept, into the dangerous world I leapt; helpless, naked, piping loud, like a fiend hid in a cloud.”

- William Blake

I very badly wanted to buy myself some art today. Miniature pieces of a gun-wielding somewhat-bunny. Then I kinda recalled that the 20-dollar bill in my wallet, was the last of its kind. The last time I was this cautious about money, I was 8 and ‘cut-off’ from my mother after she caught me stealing from my own piggy-bank.

Wow. 18 years on, as vulnerable as ever. But today was a good day. I saw some of the silver lining. Susan Miller could just be right. All is not lost.

002: a silk thread of new beginnings

This wasn’t meant to be what it is. I created this space awhile ago with every intention of starting up a writing blog for people like me (people who have a lot to say). It never took off. I got carried away with life and let myself be swept away into a wave of more questions and little answers. That’s life as I’ve come to know.

So now I’m back. But it’s just me. There’s no front to hide behind, no other persons to protect me. I have kept many online journals/blogs in the past, and the most recent ones have all been kept secret. Out of fear. Fear of exposure, fear of ridicule, fear of having nothing substanstial or of intelligence to say.

With my new unemployed status, I could go on wallowing in self-pity (that which I excel in) or do something. So, here’s me ‘doing something’, even if you might see it as ‘doing nothing’. I don’t exactly know what I’ll write about, but I will just write. What better way to get back into the groove of writing than to let it lead me somewhere? So maybe today I’m whingeing about life, tomorrow I’ll write a haiku and next week I critic a movie. Who knows? Afterall, I am allowed to write as I see fit, no?

I remember a time when I was truly at peace with myself, it was quite some time ago, and the mental images are blurry, like a bittersweet aftertaste in my mouth. I crave something which I still can’t quite put my finger on yet, all I know is I feel an intense need to fill this gap in my life with something; anything.

So yes, state of unemployment leads to carpe diem. I don’t want a tomorrow of nothing or another five years of silence. And no, I’m not running away – once was enough and it still haunts me to this day. Whether this is self-discovery or not, I will no longer let my fears or your disbelief/judgement stand in my way, my voice, my life.

I remember, I am only human. It is okay to fall, to cry and to love.