"Agree on the framework in hand."

"Okay in my hearts of hearts , from me to you, do i feel affinity to you which is more than friendship : Yes

But feelings can't be forced, if one come with pure intention

I do get signals from you that you are good with the current situation - as is... Signal received

But you can't regulate me and my behaviour... I'm my own person, so I'll continue.

Similarly I can't regulate you.

I don't know what to call us, frankly I don't care, I rather have you in my life than not have you in my life." 

Letter number one hundred and thirty-six: a day in my parents' life in KL

Dearest J, 

I'm in much better shape today - mind and body.  Alive, and have things to live for.  It's not perfect but I'm relatively happy today.  

...so glad the dark clouds have blown over for now.

As usual, I sat by the dining table after I finish eating, and let mom have her airtime, to just talk.  I didn't see them at lunch, I cooked some dishes for dinner and asked them to come up to eat together.

Mom told me her morning routine.  Things she does every morning.  It sounds lovely, I think routines are wonderful.  The first thing she does after getting out of bed - washing her hands.  Then she cleans her dentures, puts them on.  Washes her face next.  She takes the milk out of the fridge, reheats it over the stove, sometimes she takes hot water and makes her oats, with the milk inside, sometimes not with the oats.  The milk is a new thing for her in the past month.  Using the gas stove is something I'm proud of for her - she was petrified to use it at first.  Things come to her in her own time, when she is not being pushed.  I'm glad. 

Then she will spread butter over a slice or two of bread, she would spread peanut butter for dad too.  But on some days he'd skips the bread.  He always have two soft eggs for breakfast, and a mug of rolled oats.  She spreads the butter over bread, and cuts them delicately into six pieces...or is it four pieces, per slice.  She takes all of that to the dining table, she says a prayer before she starts her breakfast.  She said dad too say his prayer before he eats.  Giving thanks to the food they're having.  Such a moving thing to know right?  

After breakfast she hopes to go toilet.  She told me she even have a silent monologue, or a quiet pep talk - to her stomach..or to the toilet.  She said she would talk to her stomach, "You've had bread, milk and oats - that's a lot to eat, so now it's time for you to behave and let me poop.  Let's make it smooth."

She said dad too prays for his smooth bowel movement.  These are both amusing and poignant to hear. 

After that she would move around the apartment, exercising.  She has her version of a cycling movement exercise - seated on a chair and make cycling movement with her legs.

"After that what do you do?" 

"I would sit around, wait for updates about lunch - wait for your text message to inform us about lunch plans."

I asked her what does she do after lunch.  She naps.  

-------------------

No doubt, self-inflicted guilt is a real issue for me - I feel I'm on a treadmill of a workout.  The workout is taking care of parents.  How much have I clocked in and all that.  Like many other things - I am aware most of my problems are self-inflicted.  

-------------------

With parents, my emotions are a pendulum.  I go from feeling annoyed, to being grateful for having them near and I can have a part in being useful to them, to feeling stressed about their problems, to sheer bliss of just enjoying their company - the kind that is much different from being with my friends where I absorb knowledge and exchange ideas and inspirations.  With parents, I just be.  I might not share much with them, but I just be.

-------------------

I hope I write more to you.  Making this a more regular routine, and an outlet of therapy for me.

Talk soon.

Love, 

B 

A WIP Jigsaw Puzzle

Decluttering for parents has got me more than I bargained for.

From feeling disgusted by the amount and the type of 'thrash' they have amassed, to feeling assimilated by reading their old correspondences.

We have the kind of experiences and outlooks of things that separate us as persons, now I see that we have had all experienced the kind of emotional turmoils that have bind us as humans and as family.

Throwing out years of scribbled hand written recipes (mom), and tissue papers (mom), old work documents (dad), and a mountain of indescribable junk - though I was disgusted during the act of cleaning itself.   Now two days later back at my own station, with my own junk - I feel, a sense of recognition that what my parents are - is a part of who I am.

As much as I have always see myself as someone worlds apart from my own family, in terms of behaviour, talents and values; I now see more layers of truth to this.  As different as we all are, through the rummaging of artefacts and thrash, I am somehow compelled to embrace the differences as part of me.

In the years I have spent away from parents and not knowing them, now comes the seasons for me to get to know them in their waning years, through our challenging re-adoption of each other, and us kids going through the old documents of their yesteryears.

My sister says it's like a detective story where the detectives piece together clues and evidence of a whole, and big picture.  A jigsaw puzzle of who our parents are.

So what's in it for me?

In this work-in-progress jigsaw puzzle, I hope to find pieces of clues about myself.  Things about my family and their past that might offer some insights into my personal struggles and challenges...and help me find some light in my dark days.

Letters number one hundred and thirty-four: The days go on (it's 2020)

Dearest J,

I checked.  My last letter to you, was June 29, 2018.  That's crazy.  Crazy long while ago.

Of course I know you cannot hear me.  Just that it still serves a bit of comfort for me to start an entry with "Dearest J".   I read a bit of my old entries while searching for the last entry when I wrote you.  The letter number one hundred and thirty-three.

Was not in a good place earlier, so I tucked the phone away and watched Breakfast At Tiffany's on Netflix.  Enjoyed the good cry, mixing my own tears with tears for them characters.

Don't know how to break the news to you, but I do feel like I've failed you somewhat.  This is the 10th year since our 'separation' and I cannot say that I am in a 'better place' yet.

Moments such as tonight.  I am afraid to face myself.

I started writing some diary sometimes.  Like, really writing them, with a nice pen.  I wrote to myself: feel like a freak show, a lone woman so far removed from love.

I've been hurt lately, by an innocent remark from someone I'm close to.  A honest opinion from this friend on my state of things with men, or the lack of; possibly due to my behaviour...of my mind.

Back to why I feel like I've failed you.

The further I am from you, in the aspect of distance in time, the further I feel plunged in the abyss of darkness of the mind.  One that was so well hidden I didn't know it was there.

So often that I announce that I am not one who needs the conventional relationship, I believe it myself.  I still think that even now.

If so, how come at the slightest poke of an honest comment about no wonder I am alone, because the way I am pushes people away - broke me into pieces?  I have to be hiding some dark gaping wounds to be this easily pushed.

It's ego.  Always the ego right?

Afraid to let go.

Afraid to admit that I too need what all the girls around me want.  They want to share themselves with someone, they want to go home to a husband some days.

My need for solitude seems real enough.  I feel at ease and at peace with all the space at home for myself.  Is this the same thing with wanting to be alone?

I wish I could print a headline, announce it to everything and everyone - that I don't have much held together.  I am a clueless fuck about most things in my life.  I don't know what I want and I don't even know if that is true or I'm lying to myself.

Meanwhile, I cannot take off and go to a hole and figure it out.  I've gone too far down the road of engaging in 'adulting' activities that I don't have the luxury of 'just stop'.

Parents are old now and needing care, a lot of time.  And money.

No time for fucking around with shit like that.

My favourite line of late - This too shall pass.

No one has asked me or made me pretend that I got my shits together.  I have done unto myself this burden of looking and walking confident in life.

I told Winnie and a few friends a few nights ago that - the worst feeling I have with you not around me anymore, is that - I can no longer turn to you at moments of chaos and doubts, to ask you what should I do.  You've said many times you too don't have answers for me.  But to have you there to stand taller than me and to admit that you don't know better than me - was comforting and assuring.

But worry not.  For this shall pass soon.  Life is too busy.

Till the next dark cloud comes.  I have ways to distract myself.  I deleted Tinder app again from the phone.  I can read more books.

I might get some help.  I will be fine.

Wish you were here.

Love,

B

Going Deep Into The Mental

A script for my Miss Cakap Banyak Diary @ Jan 28

Happy Chinese new year and happy holiday if you're still on holiday.

This is going to be a special episode of diary, I am going to talk about something a bit serious.  In fact, not only serious but it's borderline...disturbing.

But like many things, you need to disrupt, make a mess before some good can come.

Well in this case I hope I am heading to that direction of bringing better things to come.

I want to share with you today, and admit to myself today that I have issues.

What issues?

The thing is, I myself don't know the whole of it - I just know that deep inside me, buried under all my surface composure of being the energetic, talkative, friendly person that we see outside -- there are a bunch of stuff that are bubbling in deep water.

Sometimes this shit gets so hot it comes up to the surface and make an unpleasant mess and then goes away.  When it surfaces, it gets my attention for a bit, I'd self reflect and make a note of the problem.  Sometimes I keep a diary of the incident and my thoughts, sometimes I make a conversation with a friend on the matter and get an insight from another person's perspective - that always helps.

OK so you are watching and thinking, what the fuck is she on and on about?

Basically, in the wake of some recent and not so recent, but recent enough string of events of both, at professional and personal capacity where I was in the middle of unpleasant conflicts.  To be more specific, I would name myself the catalyst of the conflicts and disagreements.

Now isn't that a pretty way of saying that I have discovered what an asshole I have been.

(side effect of having started watching The Crown on Netflix, you get all proper with your English)

 But ya seriously, I have spent some time thinking and asking myself how and why did I end up here - a certified asshole.

The usual suspects came to mind - my ego and my insecurities getting out of balance.   Being able to pin point the source, the root of what cause my behaviour to get out of hand, is a good start - but just that alone won't solve the problem.

I look around at other areas of my life, and lifestyle where I feel much out of balance and not where I like it be - my incessant restlessness and the desire to control things, and people.  Much as I know I have improved ever so slightly in past years, it is still far from healthy.  I want to do better.

We are at most times, the cause of what happens to us.  Our beliefs turn into behaviour and our behaviour manifest into our reality.

I have problem letting things be, my mind is an overheated oven all the time.  When I fall sick I have a lot of difficulties resting and healing.

Someone whose sense I trust, told me yesterday - that she can see that I have a front, this thing that I do to control my own emotions.  Means my interaction with the outside world, is a controlled front that I have subconsciously created for myself and for others.

Basically this means, I have received signs and warnings from a series of incidents that are calling for me to pay attention, pay a lot more attention to my mind.

Honestly it feels a bit scary because I am already a walking overheated overthinking machine, now I have to THINK MORE?

No, I now have to LEARN how to THINK the right things, for better mental health.

I want to get to the inside of my mental, and find the root of my deep issues - the real source of my deep set restlessness, my obsession with being in control of everything, my disability to let things be, let it flow.

So, laying the headline of the problem is a start.  I don't quite know what I will do next.  I have some ideas and I am nervous.  I want to learn mediation, I want to make time for a silent retreat this year - I hope soon.

Thank you for listening and watching.  If you have thoughts about whatever I just share - anything at all.  You can write to me, comment, private message.

I wish you peace and joy.

On Being Lonely

A few people has put the idea of a 'showgirl journal' in my head seriously, as in, they seriously think it's a good move for me to consider.

That could eventually be a book, something like that.

To do that, I know that one of the things to do is daily writing.  So, let's try this.  Just keeping a simple daily writing..journal thingy going, and put down the incessant flow of thoughts inside my head, onto this space.  Maybe on real printed pages, one day.  Who knows.

I went on a non-date last night with my handsome neighbour and corporate thespian friend Leon, to Phantom of The Opera.  (but we both said it's a date all right!! But it's still a non-date because Ryonn got a partner orediii) It was the Tun Siti Hasmah gala night, and there was going to a pre-show cocktail for some of us, so we both dressed up, I went to the theatre in Leon's nice fancy car - feeling very grown up and nice.  He introduced me to his office mates and I did nothing to hide my non-corporate-like personality.  We took silly videos and photos together during the cocktail.  The show was good, our seats were good, we had wonderful supper and went home.

Leon texted this little group chat we keep with a couple of our buddies today, "My colleagues said my wife/girlfriend from last night is very interesting and fizzy! LOL."

I had to ask him what fizzy means.  "It's like a bubbly soft drink."  Ah, ok.  I am like a carbonated drink, might make one burps.

Anyway, I have digressed again huh?  This is about loneliness.

The going out last night kept me thinking, again, about my single-hood, that is sometimes, links with loneliness.

Generally, I have very little time and mental space to truly 'appreciate' my loneliness.  Despite it being always there looming in the back of the room.  When the time comes, I would think about it for a few moments and enjoy the melancholy, soak it up...but before I know it, my mind wanders off to the next thing I need to do, and want to do.

Distracted?  Yes you bet.  So it seems - I am lonely but I am too distracted to be bothered by it.

In fact, I don't even complain about it - the loneliness.  Don't get me wrong when I say I am lonely, I don't mean it in the conventional sense where one has no friends and is sad about it.  I mean in the sense that I don't have a romantic partner, or a steady - that kind of 'lonely'.

I definitely enjoy the perks of single-hood, and understand that bits that come with that package - the lonely thing.

Just putting it here that I am sometimes lonely, and things aren't so bad so I end up don't do anything about my being single status.  I usually declare that I mostly just want a lover, not a boyfriend.

What is the difference?  You can either google the terms...or I can try to blog about my own terms one day.

Was on dating app for years, Tinder for one.   Made a lot of new friends, met loads of both interesting and very boring men.  Had numerous thoughts about writing stand-up comedy material about my Tinder encounters; wrote some half-assed lyrics for a song about Tinder; kept a diary of my Tinder dates even.

But I'm still here :) single and still quite pleased with it for now.  And have deleted the app some time ago.

OK, I should stop here for now.  If I were to make this blogging a daily feat, gotta make it feasible but not spending too many minutes on one entry.

Wish me luck.

Letters number one hundred and thirty-one: The days go on

Dearest J,

It's been too long.  Since my last letter here.  More than a year.

I took my parents on a beach holiday last week, with the great help of my sister in hand.  I don't know if I have ever told you, but I grew up at home never knowing what a family holiday was like - we never had any.   It didn't seem like I missed anything - I mean, you don't miss something that you didn't know anything about, right.

It dawned on me that I'd better take mom to the beach while she is still reasonably fit enough to move about.  So I went through the trouble of planning it.  I'm not one who does many things for my family, but I knew I had to do this.

Well, it was worth all the trouble.  In fact, halfway through booking all the logistics for the trip I even manage to start getting excited about the trip for myself.  Mom was really really thrilled with the experiences - she said it many times over that her wish really came true: the beach dream.  Nervous and frightful as she was, she survived it: getting in and out of boats, putting on life jackets, the boat rides, learning how to walk on soft sandy beach (both dad and mom were unstable walking on soft sand, at first), walking to and fro from rooms to meals, getting in and out of buggy rides, etc.   She took it all in, the things she was wishing for: walks on the fine sand next to the sea, playing with sea water, dipping her ankles in the water, posing for photos, sunset sightings...etc.

We actually really hung out, as a family.  For once, we just sat around and chatted, and ate without rushing off anywhere for the next appointment.  4 days 3 nights.

Dad is 76 now, mom is 71.  She told me she was never given that beach holiday since married dad.  I mean, I know them well in the sense that they have not had the chance to 'learn' to 'enjoy life' as how I know.  There are too many things that are too late for them to pick up at their age, with their background.   As limited options I have to 'make them happy', I just had to try to service their wishes.  I am glad we took the trip to Redang.  I booked a really nice resort for us, everyone was happy with the space.  It was sister's first holiday away from her kids and hubby, my first with my family, mom's first beach holiday...dad's first too.  All of our firsts.

I try to cook for them at home as much as I could, showing mom new recipes of simple and delicious dishes like pasta options.  My impatience with them remains, I still can't wait to get back to my own routines of life, and having the pad to myself.  I've learned to control it better, my mind seems to get into this "service-mode".  I want to do the best I can (given my limited patience) to provide my care and services as a daughter to mom and dad.  I cannot yet see how our future will pan out, their wealth conditions and the way they live out in Taiping stress me a bit but I am determined not to let that ruin my days.

I'm 40 now.  I don't know how to describe this but it seems, I feel that I've never really grown up - inside me everyday I have many moments of surrealism....the memories of that really young, insecure, feels ugly, un-clever girl - she lives in me still, everyday I see her - even as I am doing big, clever things like taking care of business, making things happen.  I am 40 but I feel like a 8-year-old who has grown used to getting round to do things she's never thought she would one day could.

Can't put my finger on this feeling - what you call this...

I've recently - just a couple of days ago - got re-aquainted with my old diary, the 1996 one.  I was 19, left Taiping to live in the city with sister for the first time.  The city, the new home, new life - it was also my sister's big new life that year: marriage, first born, a new house, a husband...she was only 24.

There were so many entries that shocked me, for I couldn't remember the things that happened.  I stayed shocked and feeling messed up for two days.  My thoughts when I first read the diary: maybe I am really messed up as a person, and maybe I don't know how I got here but maybe the past had something to do with it.

I feel much better now though.  So many things happened this year.  I managed to cough up my second album, Cinnabar Rouge; managed to produce and stage another concert...it was bigger and grander - I went through hell with all the work (stress, as the leading lady and as the producer).  It was a challenge to find a moment to feel proud with the work/achievements of this team - of Janet Lee.

Really, I cannot complain.  I wanted to do all that: another concert, to dance, to entertain and to work with the people, the music - to give a good show.  I guess I just wanted a shoulder to lean on.  I cannot even imagine how it would be like if you were still around.

Post concert - post album launch depression came.  Things are different this time round, times are harder, ticket sale took a while.  I had 80% attendance.  Album sale is slow now, I work from day to day to figure out what is next step to sell the next album.  I paid off everyone, having savings helped. The low-down isn't in the fact that I dig out savings to pay for things - it is in feeling inadequate to market this piece of work better, the fact that I am not getting as much attention from people as before - it is just my feeling.

I understand, as my work matures and the higher I climb - the higher the expectations and the bigger base I need.  Yet I haven't a bigger base - fan base hasn't grown big enough, I still work alone...

And I am just tired, and lonely.

Strangely though, after I was done making a check list of all the downs and feeling bad about feeling bad - I have a surreal sense of excitement.  I wonder where all these emotions are taking me next.

While I am sorting things out - or waiting it out - or just floating along - I am hooked on Alain de Botton's work.  I got addicted to watching his The School of Life videos and his talks on YouTube every night/day.  His teachings on pessimism calms me.

And back to basic - I am allowing music work to excite me and to ground me once again.  Forget the shits of life for a moment, I shall face the music and let myself get whirled into its magic once again.

I am inherently grateful to be alive.  I think of your kindness.

The pad is quiet again, it's back to just me here.  I love it here.


Love you much,

B

Letters number one hundred and thirty: The days go on

Dearest J,

I don't know if you have ever stopped in your track, and think...everyday, at every juncture of predicament and challenge in your way - you are learning how to live.

Does it ever get tiring, I am refraining from asking you questions because I know I have to answer everything myself.  The answers come much later down the road.  They will come.

The way I see my life now is in two parts, the one with you in it and the one AFTER you.  Honestly, in the most ironic, perhaps morbid and unromantic way - I feel like I've only start to 'live' this life after you left.  It feels like the life with you before was my university years, preparing me for the real thing after you go.  After you let go of your firm and reassuring grip on me.

Off I go.  It still feels like sometimes such a tiresome chore to be treading this road of life.  At most times I look around and see so much to be thankful for - even without anyone to hold on to.  Isn't it so true, that we come into this world alone and we go alone.  With families and closest of friends, we are always, all the time alone, inside ourselves.

Here I am J, coming to my second album soon; surviving the big unknown again.  Still feeling almost lost in looking for my voice, still looking, at my 11th year of working in music; still looking for myself at my 39th year of being alive.  And oh, learning in giving my body and my mind to the pleasure of the flesh a second chance, learning from scratch in becoming a woman again.  Learning new tricks to pick myself up each time I fall prey to fear and doubts, learning to listen to old advice like a trusted therapist.

And I do feel oh so lazy some days, a lot of days.  My laziness drive me to the kitchen, and proceed to intoxicate my mind with cooking...a pot of tea and some snacks and open pages in books, cleaning up the corners of the flat, dusting off books piled on the shelves, more eating and drinking tea in bed and sofa, more cooking...

And oh, I have finally caught up with you in the running/jogging.  I enjoy a run outside, whether alone or with friends.  The haze in the city has been bad each season and our clear sky days are quite numbered so that is quite an annoying deterrent for running outside.  I have learned how to do breast stroke proper, I enjoy swimming nowadays.  I have started a daily morning workout routine at home after I make my bed, this started after my birthday just more than a week ago.

Still lots to learn J. To stay constantly motivated to stay alive and be better in things.  I am slow but I never stop.

Feel good to talk to you.  Just needed to let this out so I can go on.


Much love, thinking of you,

B

I Trust You, and brief encounters (FB posts)

August 26, 2015

"I trust you." I find myself saying that a lot in recent times. Whenever I say it I have a good feeling about my life - that I have been able to surrender my hope, faith and goals into others whom I have found and earned my trust. 

I think it's a wonderful feeling when you can tell someone that - "I trust you." Maybe in some ways, even more powerful than "I love you." More than love, is when that person has done things that tell me that I can lean on him/her, and hold hands with him/her to achieve dreams and goals together.

More often than not, I think great loves are those built on great trust and friendship. It's all interconnected - without trust, it's no way to build great friendships and partnerships. 

Over the past one week, I have been asked a few times about my blatant and prolonged singlehood since Justin. "So what is it now? You've gotten too picky haven't you?" I don't know if knowing what matters to me and being picky have become the same thing, haha.

Maybe many people go through partners in their lives, each time hoping to find the ultimate person who fulfils them, or a relationship that fulfils his/her soul. In the absence of that special man who fulfils me and the empty position of "partner/soul mate" - I found many fulfilling partnerships and platonic relationships that can seriously rival a seat named 'boyfriend'. 

Perhaps it's my luck, or perhaps I have done something good in my youth - I have been meeting and working with people and friends whom I say "I trust you" a lot to. Sure, no one can compare to what J has done for me; but what these friends have done for me are honestly, no less sincere and passionate like J's contribution in my life's path.

I am grateful for having these people in my journey. I hope I am doing all that I can to treasure their friendships. 

And so my answer to my friends who have asked me about seeking the next guy who would hold my hand is, "I think I have found him...but it's in fact, more than one of them...and sometimes it's not just men - it's like a whole bunch of wonderful special people, men and women." 

(Inspired to share this because of the planning of my upcoming music video shoot, am working with the crazy talented Tan Choo Harn - am so f*cking thrilled that he is making my MV - and whom I have been saying "I trust you." to, like 3 times a day)

Tay Cher Siang Nell Ng Wong Horngyih Julian Chan Seah Song-fan Pc FooAlex Ls Tan Jaynell Ling Chong See Ming Zalina Lee Melissa Teoh Yon Lynn Tan Range Yau Winnie Majig Fung Chern Hwei Suhaili MichelineCheong ZhiLing Ruoh Peng Chiew Nick Choo Susheela BalasundaramCyrus Chin AJ Popshuvit Kj Wong Woon Fook Sen  ‪#‎restlessheart‬‪#‎janetwrites‬ ‪#‎grateful‬ ‪#‎trust‬ ‪#‎janetleemusic‬ ‪#‎friends‬

September 22, 2015

I'm not bothered by brief encounters and having met people you can't keep in your daily routines, people we meet are messengers - carrying important lessons and insights that we can benefit from if we open our eyes, ears and hearts to them in the brief time we spend with them. Treasure all your chance encounters and friendships. ‪#‎reflections‬ ‪#‎janetwrites‬ ‪#‎friendships‬‪#‎messengers‬ ‪#‎lifelessons‬

Food over sex

So I sat down in front of my living room window and stared at the 1230am traffic on Jalan Ipoh, 21 floors below...with a freshly toasted bran bread spread with my most delicious latest find in the supermarket - homemade honey and almond butter spread.

As I took my last few bites while purring with utmost satisfaction...a small voice inside my head uttered, "Oh my gawd I think I prefer this than having a man making love to me."

.....

Gosh, is that me talking?" ....then I stopped in my track and tried to analyse my feeling and that voice.

"Is it really so?"

Well, for one - if you buy the right peanut butter and check its expiry date and have a toaster that works and a piece of fine bread - you can always guarantee your orga...foodgasm.

Yea, it's easier.  Satisfaction always guaranteed.  With sex with another person, so many other factors at play.  So, Many.

This topic is as old as...

Memories: breakup then and now

"Your face looks like it's been hit by a truck."  The first joke after our breakup.  He coaxed me to stop crying, well I didn't stop right away but that did make me laugh.

My first and only breakup was in 2004, after our first two years together.  Second year was lots of small but unpleasant fights, I grew overly dependant on him, the passion and fun were lost in the mundanity of a lifeless routine - I was too young and foolish to see that it was going to pieces, slowly.

"I don't remember the last time we have fun together anymore.  When we fight so much nowadays, it makes us forget all the good things we had."

"I didn't miss you when I was away."
"So what?" I said.
"I don't think we should do this anymore."

Though it was done gently, it was my first.  The gentle blow hit me like a truck indeed.  We lay in the darkened room and discussed what to do next.  There was no yelling or scolding.  All of that were done months before and led to the quiet explosion of that night when he said he didn't want to do this anymore.

Heart broke into pieces, tear gate flushed and there was no turning back.  But looking back now, I remember it was all very gentle, extremely gentle.

I remember we even went out for a night stroll in the city, Bukit Bintang area.  Either the night we broke up or the night after.  I wore a cotton army hat to cover my swollen eyes, favourite blue jeans, a black bra and a black see through mesh blouse.  He took a photo of me that night, the print is somewhere in some box in some corner of my house now.

We walked gently, talked gently, the gentle farewell to romance I guess.

After I found a place to move in to, he took me shopping at IKEA and bought me a few book shelves for my new home.  We took everything back ourselves and he stayed the day to assemble everything for me.  I bought a brand new super single bed.  My new place was beautiful, small, and clean.  My chief tenant was an aircraft engineer who lived in the master room and he kept the flat wonderfully clean.

It wasn't all easy and pretty like my new rented room of course - buying things for my new home was the easy part.  Walking away from the relationship in one piece took a lot more effort.  My colleagues back then were lovely bunch, I can't remember exactly what they did for me but I remember them being lovely to me.  The first few weeks were terrible - focusing at work and keeping a calm composure.

Before my move out of his place, watching him coming home late at night and being confused was hard.  Once he came home, evidently he had one too many drinks, he walked to our bed with his helmet still on his head and proceed to lie down.  I could only imagined what was on his mind, the not knowing was painful.  I wrote an entry about the not knowing and the cease of communication:


it hurts me to see you like this.  
it hurts to know that i don't know how you feel. 
it hurts even more to know that i have probably never really know how you feel. 
it hurts like crazy to know that i have stopped being the person you confide in at the end of the day. 

i'm still here. 

you've hurt me but i'm still here, you can cry on my shoulders. 
yes i know it's stupid but my heart tells me to. 
you may not love me anymore but i'm still the same person you talked to. 

damn it, i'm still the same person. 

you are feeling unjust that the world hasn't given you what you deserve for your efforts. 
you are feeling tired in the head and in the mind. 
you are feeling unhappy, i can tell from your face. 

if only i can be that person you confide things to again... 
if only. 

He was very very kind to me, he helped me set up the new life.  After the new home was installed, I was independent again.  I wrote a lot of blog entries, I read books, I went out and have many meals alone, some with friends.  And he would be around sometimes, we stayed as good friends.  Back to our old days before our romance - we chatted at Mamak after work.

"Move out of his space, and let the bastard miss you." My best friend told me when she first got over the initial shock of the news.

The breakup was good for me - it forces me to grow up, to reflect on myself, and to chase after my independence and discover my art again (and that is another story).

The breakup was good for him - for him to break away from an almost abusive relationship and to reclaim his right for a more loving friend and relationship.

The breakup was good for us - we reset the friendship, reviewed our behaviour and started fresh as friends again. Our friendship was rekindled and we got to remind ourselves again why we enjoyed each other's company at the first place.

I know I was lucky to have only gone through only one breakup in my life, and what more, one that broke my ego and built me up again.  I don't know what you can learn from my story, it's just me putting them down in words, and share my reflection of what was experienced back then - all of 11 years ago.

We eventually got back together again, about 7 months later, as a couple.  The partnership took to a great new height and we hardly have fights after that, we bonded more, we truly appreciated each other more, we became 'bestest' of friends.  We live and let live and we promised each each other to grow old together, marriage or no marriage - we want to be each other soul mate.

So that is my happy ending breakup story.

I wrote this as a self-preparation for an imminent separation of a very different kind of relationship.  Romantic or platonic, I think separation and breakups are there to teach us and help us become stronger and better people.

Letter number one hundred and twenty seven: the days go on

Dearest J,

I have been in an emotional constant roller-coaster ride the past few months.  Endless negotiations (with myself) and pep talks, fears and hopes, nightmares and anxieties, fantasies and premonitions - facing the crucial milestones of my career.

Before I went to bed last night I had a thought about you, and the departure.  This is my reading of our story at this juncture of my life:

You met me and you took me in in your youthful but safe wings of love and care.  Though we both grew and mature into our own passions and as best friends - I felt more like the flower being cared and groomed in the garden of this romance, and you the carefree but certain gardener.

When you left, though it felt like at first that I got ejected out of the safe and warm green room and left alone in the wild jungle...

But now I feel all different and new now, 4 years apart and a gazillion emotional and spiritual awakenings later.  Your departure is what forced me to grow into the fiercely alive person who holds on to dreams and waiting questions, I became more patient with uncertainties and future, and with my own shortcomings.

You leave me so that I be better than what I was yesterday.

A somewhat tragic equation at first...since there is no turning back to that day of your Ulu Yam ride, I take this in a strike that this is how it's meant to be: You must leave me to make me a better human.

And how lucky that we have shared those wonderful 8 years (warts and all) together as lovers and best friends - the ingredients for my growing in the last 4 years.

I am good, am not sad anymore today.  We have lived and that's what matter.

I love you, forever and more,
B

FB post dated June 18th - "Que Sera Sera" by my dad

[what-I-learned-from-Dad-lastnight] In the rather toxic matrix of the city's hustle and bustle, am often blinded by small problems, temporary hurdles, etc...I often forget to look at the big picture and get a grip of "What's more important?" and "What's the big picture?"

Drove parents out earlier to visit friends, after I absent-mindedly ate my dinner with them at home - mind crowded and distracted (stressing over logistics for the concert project early next year, in conjunction with album release, etc).  My dad asked me from the backseat if I knew the song title of a famous English song, he started singing a tune that wasn't anywhere in tune and his lyrics didn't quite make sense.

"Dad I don't know this song, I cannot tell what you're singing." (I just wasn't present enough in the conversation nor I had the patience then to try to figure it out)

He started telling us that the lyrics of the songs is about not knowing what the future brings.  My mom immediately said, "Oh I know the song!" :) I knew mom knows that it's Que Sera Sera that dad was referring to - she also sang it better than dad.

So I put on the song in the car for them, Pink Martini's version of Que Sera Sera from the Sympathique album.  And dad started relating how life is indeed like the song itself - you cannot tell what the future brings.

It brought a smile to my face thinking how, as a kid back in school, to live this life I have now would have been the wildest dream.  Who would have thought that my parents would be cool enough to let me live the way I do when I first quit my day job?  Never in my wildest dreams as a kid did I dreamed of working on an album of my own; never would I have believed that one day I would live my days as a storyteller on stage, singing songs of dreams and hopes for live audiences who indulge with me - even though I have written more than once in school homework that my ambitions and dream jobs were these: author, novelist, actor, singer and dancer.

"Hey you", I tell myself, "This is the moment - of being alive, staying alive, ironing out problems, big and small...charging along; both your parents still around and they are playing witnesses to your life's events - of your big and small achievements - being proud to have given birth to you." "So why so grim?  There's nothing you can do that can't be done...nothing you can sing that can't be sung..."

Yea, I gotta learn to set my perspectives right and understand the scale of my `predicaments'.  So thank you dad, for singing the song, though out of tune and lyrics not quite right - you have taught me and reminded me last night on "what's more important".   Que Sera Sera.

How Do I Love Thee (for Unreserved, The Malaysian Reserve)

For Unreserved's Valentine's Day issue

Printed in [Unreserved] by The Malaysian Reserve 

February 2014 volume 1 issue: Love - the seasons and reasons

I first met him in 1996 when I took a job in

n his company during my college break.  Years later after I left college and started working at a place that happened to be near his house, we started hanging out sometimes.  He told me much later that he got interested to get to know me better after watching me compete in a singing competition back in 2002.  

Thereafter we started spending a lot of time talking, and do things like attending talks (I remember we had a date attending a DAP dinner forum), watching concerts at No Black Tie, queuing up to get a passport renewed, go for bike rides and taking photographs of the night sky, etc.

We became a couple after we talked about our feelings for each other, after months of hanging out as buddies and exchanging lots and lots of conversations.

My understanding of love has extended over to my growing (but never ending) understanding of life and how I aspire to live, through my relationship with Justin.  Our approach to love and romance is similar to how we look at life – live and let live: to give full support and encouragement to your partner in doing what he loves to do.  To love someone is the desire to makehim or her happy, by understanding his dreams, passions, his hopes and his nightmares.

That is what I have learned from my relationship and friendship with Justin.  When I first started seeing him I was clingy and dependent, and wanted most of my activities to revolve around being a couple but it hurt us badly and we broke up for a few months.  When we got back together we were better friends and lovers, I guess we had found a balance between being our ownpersons and being each other’s best friends and lovers – we found the perfect match of space and intimacy for two friends.

In many ways I guess I could say that it’s never changed since the day I saw him for the last time - Justin met with aroad accident on his bike outing with friends more than three years ago and departed.  I think of him now with the fondest memories of course, abide the melancholy tone of loss.  He has left me (and am sure many others too whom he had touched with his kindness and life’s outlook) with one of the best gifts in my life – the desire to be a kinder and generous person, and to live simply, but not without passion.  

I have no regrets.  If I hadn’t gotten into that relationship with him, who knows if I would be driving today – he took my hands (literally) and walked meto a nearest driving school near his house and signed me up for driving classes, “So that you can drive yourself around to attend auditions and rehearsals.” He said.

If I hadn’t been with him, I might remain a silly petty person who gets angry over things I have no control over, instead of going with the flow and make the best out of situation at hand.  If I hadn’t been a recipient of his affection and admiration,I may not have the courage and balls to remain in my job now as an independent and freelance performer who needs to know how to strife for excellence, fails and picks herself up again, over and over in this road to passion.

I am not seeing anyone at the moment but I am seeing a lot of myself though!