Magic Bus

22 September 2005. Min and I hopped onto the Magic Bus at Piccadilly Garden where we saw three young men holding badminton racquets, one an Indian, one a thin Chinese-looking boy and one we could not define him. They were definitely either Malaysians or Singaporeans.

Feeling the discomfort from their stares, glares and loud smirks, Min and I shifted to the back. 15 minutes later, we rang the bell for our stop and coincidentally the three stooges took off there too. After much hesitation and decision, Min pushed me forward and I stared rather rudely at the big Indian guy, having in thoughts wanting to ask them where do they play that game. Words got stuck and after about 2 minutes, and feeling that slight embarassment, we all alighted and went our separate ways. I watched the Indian, the Chinese and the other guy walk away chatting lightly.

One day later, during Malaysian freshers’ BBQ, we saw them boys again. This time, we braved ourselves and
approached the Indian guy. We made friends, and the Chinese guy appeared. We asked for the other boy and as he emerged, Min and I could not recognise “the third guy”. He was astonishingly different – somewhat a transformation. We made friends, exchanged numbers and never saw each other for a good few weeks again.

Never would I have thought, that fateful day on the bus was what would brought Han Sian and I together. Never would I have thought, I met my 2-years boyfriend on the bus thinking that I would have spent the rest of my life with him.

Never would I have thought, I would be here today, 20 June 2008, I once again rode on the Magic Bus, only this time not even having a thought or two about him but instead, I gazed the twilight of the night from Didsbury to Oxford Road, having thoughts about Neil and my future.

I am numb. I don’t feel anything. Maybe because I don’t want to. I’ve got a job offer. I was not chuffed, I was not celebrating, I was just indifferent. Maybe because I don’t want to face disappointment again. Maybe because these treacherous six months are beginning to weigh me down. And perhaps I am already faltering.

I don’t feel anything towards Neil. I don’t particularly miss him, I don’t uniquely want to see him, I just don’t.

As much as I hate asking myself why am I still staying here, I cannot avoid this. I am staying because I am positive I will get a better job. I am staying because I want to save and earn as much money as possible. I am staying for the slightest reason, because I think Neil took part of me and locked it up and I wanted to stay for him, for me, for us. I want to let myself loose and love. But I forbid myself because no men are worth my tears and sacrifices anymore.

I am scared and scarred. I am hurt and I detest. I am numb and I don’t feel. I am indifferent.

I want but I don’t want to.

I just want to be normal. yet again.

Bring tomorrow home, and today looks brighter

I never gave up in life. Always I would say, often you may hear, the common sigh that goes ‘I’m gonna give up!’ but never have I given up before. Never.

I stayed strong, resilient and fought for what I thought I could obtain once again, to be right where I used to be, to saviour my relationship with Neil, to try to get another job over and over again, and yet, I failed. Unsuccessful, Failed.

My efforts were held in reprimand, my spirit was disheartened, and it was as though I was done with my glory, only at a mere age of twenty three. I hear, I see and I know, there are much much more to this world and life than these excruciating horrendous six months. Just a phase, but I don’t have the hunger or desire to go on, I don’t want to succeed , I don’t want to love, I just don’t want anything.

I am tired and I just want to go home.

The rain before summer

I feel contented. Not happy but just contented.

For the fact that I had fun at Ning’s last night. For the fact that I speak to May and Seng on a regular basis. For the fact that I am going to my 3rd round interview with ntl:Telewest. For the fact Mark calls to check on me on a regular basis. For the fact that Jaki asked me for dinner. For the fact that J text me to ask if I got home safely. For the fact I know, all the people who rang on my birthday. For the fact that Yeen kept asking me to go home. For the fact that I am smiling a little again.

Issit happiness? I’d say I am contented.

I skipped along the way home last night, I smiled at the summer wind caressing my face, I looked around the familiar path at 11.45pm, knowing that there are people out there who thinks and cares for me.

Some friends are superficial, in fact most I’d say, but I’m thankful enough for those blessings rendered upon me:- for all the people giving me strength throughout these harsh forceful demeaning months. And I am contented.

Enough to sustain for a while.

But really, I just want to go home.

that phone call

15th June 2008, 10.09pm.

After my phone being quiet the entire night, as I was prepared for bed, it vibrated. Much to my surprise, I looked at the screen and it read Kevin Yong. My heart jolted and skipped a bit. I answered the phone with OMG, OMG, OMG!

He was my first ever crush. A guy that I liked for three consecutive years, having sighted him from my country club, when he was a brilliant ping-pong player without knowing that he was the same guy that I had been talking to weekly on mIRC. Those were the days when the microsoft Internet Relay Chatroom was popular, moving on to ICQ and now MSN.

Often I remember, taking a glimpse at him, be it when I was at my country club or be it when it was on the way home from school, or even at those occasional inter-school gathering. It was a long infatuation. One fine day some two years later, I wrote him a long email, informing him about my feelings for him without wanting anything in return. Finally, he picked his guts out to ask me out on a date three years later, and we always ‘dated’ whenever he returned from Ireland. During then, I had no clue where even Ireland was.

Five years passed, and we still went on our occasional seasonal dates, remembering what he wore, the red Nike shirt or the Arsenal jersey in his green Merc. The places we went, from Fridays to Yeolde English and Indulgence as well =) Sweet?

My stomach always churned and my heart always nearly stopped working whenever I go out with him. Because I liked how he looked, thin, tall, ruffled hair, small smiley eyes. I have a knack for tall, thin guys.

One day whilst I was 18, he was 21, he finally confessed to me telling me he was falling for me too and bought me Eeyore and Winnie the Pooh knowing how fond I was on those stuffed toys. But by then, I was not interested, it was not possible because we were both worlds apart. He was in Melbourne, I was going to college.

Now 10 years have passed since I knew him, had a crush on him and yet he still calls. Yet he still remembers my birthday and never fails to in any ways wish me. Much to my adoration, he said ‘Yes, we should go on our dates again!’

Ah, Kevin Kevin, the first guy that made me knew what was liking a guy all about.

Neither here nor there or anywhere

People tell me graduates DO in fact go through this phase of soul-destroying, job-hunting, disappointment aggravated situations. People tell me even your parents go through this.

Ah, as well it might be! Although both my parents never graduated, both of them started slaving themselves at the tender age of 16, one inheritance of the almighty rich mining industry of my grand’s and another chose to diverse into sales with her amazing interpersonal talking skills. They both struggled hard enough, to deliver the luxury as a middle class family to both my sister and I, teaching us the apt towards life, to be independent and to strive for a living and spend wisely. At least my sister is, but I am cutting down.

Six months down the line, I am still neither here nor there or anywhere. Still searching, wondering and wandering.  But I hope I am getting there. It can be a extremely soul-destroying, what my friend would call it, but to me it’s just depressing.

There are no fond memories as of this year that I would like to collect, maybe some but non significant enough to hold me back from this cold, wet, dim country. What I am looking for is excellence, success and happiness.

At 2am, 14th June 2008, I walked into 42s, and we spent a good 5 minutes searching for each other and when we finally found each other amidst the blurry, cloudy, dungeon night club, I ran to him, and he hugged me so tight and kissed my cheek lightly. He grasped my hand, our fingers intertwined, as how he would have hold me when we were together, giving me the sense of security perhaps I haven’t felt for a while. Six steps forward, I pulled him back, wanting another two seconds hug, he kissed me instead.

I teared. I thought I didn’t miss him but I did when I saw him. I did because the Valium came back. I was yet again momentarily happy. Enough. Maybe because prior to that I had 8 shots, maybe because I was a little tipsy. Maybe because I haven’t seen him in 14 days, spoken to him in 7 days and seeing him, the adrenalin rush gave in.

Vaguely yet fondly but surely, I remember him cuddling me the entire night, him giving me kisses every now and then, him hugging me telling me he loves me;- like how we used to be. To love or not, I don’t think it matters.

My heart is now back to the rock hard one, I cannot possibly feel anything towards anyone except disappointment in some people, missing home, family and them special ones, most importantly, I am grateful for Yee Lyn coming down being there.

For every future will be a better one.

I wanna go home

I really really wanna go home.

To be with those people who rang me to wish me happy birthday. To be with those who will buy me a birthday cake and celebrate with me. To be with those we loves me incessantly. To be employed. To be loved. To be wanted, cared for and mainly I just want to be happy.

And be alive.

Home is what keeps me alive.

BENCI!

I AM SUPER DUPER THE TRIPLE BENCI and ANNOYED.

Dunno why also. Sometimes I feel so damn fucking stupid lar. My mom always said I am too nice to people. For example, on my birthday I DID NOT BLOW A CAKE WEY. WTF. Superficial friends that I’ve got.

ARGH.

Thank God for my amazing mega Ipoh Friends! I am SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO GOING HOME ASAP!

23 years ago.

Happy birthday to me. This year being the saddest, most pathetic and worst birthday for now I think it is.

I remember having grand parties every year – in fact I am used to parties. used to being the Queen. And now, I am all alone in my room. Dressed up, – no where to go. No one to see.

A smile for the subsiding pain

Afterall, I think I am numb from all the worst things that have been happening to me for the past six months. A friend told me yesterday “God doesn’t put you through a path that you cannot go through!”

I think so too. Maybe this is just an overdue extremely long test of my life, a path in which after endeavouring, I’ll be just yet strong enough to proceed to be a better being, a stronger and resilient one. Months of endless tries, hopes and determination, and yet after two day of assurance, it’s now all back to square one.

If you ask me why am I not celebrating my birthday this year? – simple, there is nothing to celebrate for, no one in particular that I really want to celebrate with and everybody is busy. Assumingly. And if you ask me why am I telling people and reminding them? -simple, I am used to telling people of my birthday and I just want a party with my EY lot because I want to get pissed – but done. Everybody is too busy.

Ed being the amazing friend he is, invited me to go out with Zara and him, after my traumatic week and noddingly agreed instantly because I just want to have fun and that is if I can ever have fun. I am used to having big parties, or even celebration since as young as one, because each year, I will have beautifully painted pictures, reminding me of all my birthdays – and probably the most significant birthday was my 18th.

I remember on that day, I went back to Ipoh, a friend Marissa came back with me, mom and dad was there, ALL my closest friends were there, and Christine, VG, Ei Leng, Yvonne Hui & Yeen have been baking a cake for me for a week. Trying to bake a cake. And they made me an ice cream cake. I remember to date, how we had two groups of people coming to my house to gather since the SPM results, yakking away – how Kian Mei stood on the arm rest of my antique chair afraid of Ting. It was all so memorable.
I give up on Neil, I think I am numb;- he makes me feel forlorn and unwanted, and how I thought I liked him and good to know I don’t actually that much. Maybe it was just a fantasy as I didn’t miss him as much as I thought I would, and most importantly, I can now finally able to resist myself from men, my heart is made of cold cold stone, I cannot possibly feel anything anymore, not sadness or disappointment. Feelings that momentarily make you feel good is like Valium – and yet I need more than that. I need that simple assurance to know and be certain of my future. I need myself.

People come, people go, some stay. And I definitely saw the friends in me and I do have some really good ones. Maybe losing a job the second time around is a blessing in disguise. Maybe, I am allowed to cry and whine and be a 23 year old again.

Because I am only human.

Home is where the heart is

Becky told me that home is where the heart is and if it is there, then I should really know what to do. However, after crossing the treacherous psychopaths for few months, I am once again uncertain;- to stay here and be a big fish in a small pond without career progression or be a small fish in a big pond with plenty of opportunities?

My heart is at home and I was all set to go home – mom, dad, Chanel, Belle (right, Ting, Gaby and Mickey left the world!), Becky, May, Seng, Yee Hui, Mel Sim, Andrew, JV, Gab, Zwen, Fong Yeen, Christine, and etc my dear friends, are at home.

But here in UK – I am not settled, I am not done, I still want to strive;- for money, for the experience and now that I have the chance, maybe I should seize the opportunity.

Afterall, I am still young =)