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Posts Tagged ‘Life’

Can I?

Posted in Hurt, tagged , , on December 16, 2009| 4 Comments »

If I am to be blamed for finding what I wasn’t looking for, then if you ever asked why I looked… I would just give you the answer all fools have given, “Because it’s there and because I can.”  The pictures, that is.

 

If I choose to feel the pain this time and be hurt by what I wasn’t supposed to see, then if you ever asked why I kept picking at the scab… I would unashamedly be that human left with no strength and say, “Because it’s there and because I can.” The wound, that is.

 

If I am cornered, left to deal with this emotion no one dares to call it anything else but anger, then if you ever asked why I couldn’t just forget it and move on… I would with no pride say, “Because it’s there and because I can.” The past, that is.

 

And if I just let me be that weak foolish human being unable to move forward, pulled back by painful reminders I didn’t know I was supposed to avoid… then let me make my mistakes. Because I am just a human. Because mistakes are there and I can make them.

 

I don’t hate many people. But because I am just a human today, I hate you. You keep making nothing but the same mistakes. I don’t hate many things either. But because I saw what wasn’t meant for me to see, I hate your mistakes. They keep bringing nothing but pain. (I called them lessons before, those mistakes. But I wasn’t human then.)

 

If you ever cared enough to ask why the hate now, I would just say, “Because it’s there, and I can choose to either live it or leave it.” The pain, that is.

 

 

 

I have not learned my lessons well, have I?
Maybe I should just walk away.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Yester Pester

Posted in Write On, tagged on December 9, 2009| Leave a Comment »

“All I have, as a matter of stating the painfully obvious, is one life. I have lived it in a way that no clocks can ever put yesterday back into tomorrow.”

 

Did I really write that? Oh my, I sure did!

 

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Unbecoming Enida

Posted in Sense, tagged on December 8, 2009| 1 Comment »

If I could find a picture to manifest the way I feel right now, I would. It would be easier. But I don’t feel like looking for a picture now. No. Not this morning. If I could say it in words, I would type a thousand words more, I assure you I would do that too. But isn’t that what I have been doing?

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It doesn’t get any easier if you choose to read my words with your thoughts, giving them your meanings. Dare you call me a liar when all I write is about myself? Who do you think you are to tell me how to be Enida? Come then… become me for a day. And write the way I write my thoughts, with the words I see my truth through.

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If you are reading this, chances are this is not about you. Please don’t flatter yourself. For those who are reading, those who are reading between the lines, and those who aren’t reading… I am just going to copy and paste what my KaCher wrote on her profile about her writing and her needs to write.

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“I write because I want to, because I feel good doing it, because I can. It doesn’t matter what I write, truth or lies, they all come from a place you wouldn’t know. So if you ever feel at any time that you understand me, save it. You don’t.”

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I repeat:

“… It doesn’t matter what I write, truth or lies, they all come from a place you wouldn’t know.”

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Peace to the world, haaiihhh! 🙂

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Procession?

Posted in Write On, tagged , on December 1, 2009| Leave a Comment »

A friend stopped by tonight. No, that’s not true. It was I who stopped her on her busy track. I just wanted to say hello. But I didn’t just get a hello back. She stopped and gave me power!

 

She enriched me with a simple-but-simply-overlooked philosophy, that “Life is a process.” I thought I knew that all along. Well, indeed I did! I knew that. All along. But the trouble with knowledge sometimes is, we don’t put all of it in words. And when a great friend came along and put my knowledge in words that I thought I had heard before, I was stunned nonetheless.

 

For I realized that it was not her words that I actually heard. It was her thought. One of those many that I had shared. All along. In silence. And from a distance. She was there to say hello and release my wordless thought. The stopping-by was brief. But it was enough to have done wonders.

 

I am blessed with great love from great people. So blessed… that it made me wonder if in the many of my previous lives,  perhaps I was that smart accountant in Singapore, or that marathon runner in Hong Kong, or her sister in India, or was I that great professional gallivantor who speaks English, Dutch, French and Malay just as easy as her eating Nasi Lemak with sliced cucumber, boiled eggs, roasted peanuts and deep-fried ikan bilis?

 

Life is a process. And that’s what I am. In this life I am that thoughtful but wordless writer who knows very well how to love but knows not what love is all about.

 

Being thoughtful and wordless hurts. But that’s a process. Knowing how to love well, yet clueless about love… is painful. That, too, however, is a process.

 

But then, one day… when I have all the words and lose all the thoughts, the process will end. When I know what love is but know not how to love, I will end.

 

I would rather be a process in this life then. Be a work in progress. And in the meantime enjoy every strand of my gray hair, every wrinkle on my face and be entertained by every slightest thought of revealing the real name of that Shower Cap Woman (who had no idea that her middle name is also the brand of birth-control pills… until she got pregnant and did not know who the father of her baby was!)

 

I like this process of accepting that life is a process!

 

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Judging Enida

Posted in Sense, tagged , on November 19, 2009| Leave a Comment »

Justifying to my best friend why I chose to bare my life and its personal details in my writing… I said, “So that people who enjoy talking about me will have an easy access to a reference, Cik Nan. If they have any doubt about a ‘story’, they can always refer to my blog and be anchored by my truth, my version. They can create and have their own addition to their edition. But my truth matters to me. I am, afterall, a reliable source for my stories.”

 

I have grown wise enough to not deny the fact that people talk. About me, and behind me. Not many will care enough to talk to me about me. People don’t only talk. They judge too. And that is perfectly human. I am not worried. For all I know, I have done that too, against my preference, principle and consent. As none of us is an island, we keep rubbing against each other for lessons, for comfort, for entertainment and sometimes for a challenge!

 

So if you caught yourself talking about me, do know that I know you’re talking about me. Whichever version, yours or mine, is fine by me. Just make sure the other person you are talking to knows that Enida’s Version is available on Questa e Enida before anybody starts judging a me.

 

 

 

 

Postlude:

I just learned a new word today:
gavel = a judge’s hammer

 

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Hard Done By

Posted in Hurt, tagged on November 16, 2009| 3 Comments »

Cold cold heart hard done by you...It’s the weather, I figured.
That fifth day I was here, that 23rd day of April… the weather was exactly like today. It is the weather. The weather that came with the news that love is sometimes not worth keeping, not worth forgiving, not worth giving. Such cold news that froze my heart harder than the oldest iceberg.

 

And today, if I could turn colder than the coldest snow, I would freeze all the warm thoughts and all my kind words, only to tell you my cold truth that love and all its hardened meaning has melted. Away. My seasonless love is no more waiting for the summer’s sun, nor it is fond of the firewood smoke kissing the snowflakes that fall on our chimney.

 

My love has gone weatherless on a day like today. And on every today, for the many todays to come. I have turned too cold to feel.

 

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Demi Masa

Posted in Sense, tagged , on September 9, 2009| Leave a Comment »

By the way, my life does not… I repeat, does not revolve around Facebook nor does it focus on what people mistakenly think I was talking about. But then go ahead and judge me anyway. One is entitled to his view.

 

This much I can tell… that if my life revolved around Facebook and what headlong shoot-first-ask-questions-later comments some people left on my blog, I would not have enough heart, love, time, energy and effort for:

 

  • me Monchies,
  • my dying Mom,
  • my missing-in-no-action father,
  • my just-married-and-just-divorced brother,
  • my other quitting-12th-grader sibling,
  • my IWC meetings,
  • my every-Tuesday-afternoon Girl Scouts volunteer activities,
  • my being discriminated-against-because-I’m-an-Asian Moscow life,
  • my new T-scooter,
  • my novel, (yes Chin… I am writing!)
  • my proofreading job,
  • my 140-acre-farmland-or-a-campervan discussions,
  • my walks,
  • my packing-pre-loved-toys-for-unfortunate-kids-in-Siberia project,
  • and oh my reading.

 

I am still reading 3 books at a time these days.

 

Berjalan di hutan cemara, langkahku terasa kecil dan lelah...So you see, by the time I have time to defend my country in a war against some neighboring country, it would already be 31st of August 2020, and I would probably be in Kecamatan Juntinyuat anyway, busy saving Bibik from the rising sea levels due to global warming.

 

So I’ll pick my battle when I know I’m winning only  for humanity’s sake. Until then, I’ll just stay away from squeezed-out toothpaste.

 

Peace!

 

 

 

 

Glossary for Neil:
demi = for the sake of
masa = time

 

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Post-Decisional Justification

Posted in Sense, tagged , on June 28, 2009| 1 Comment »

Post-decisional Justification:
Right after making a choice people tend to value what they chose more, and value what they did not choose less.

 

Over three months ago I met up with a friend whom I had not seen nor spoken to since 1996. Simply because we lost touch with each other. After a roti canai-teh tarik breakfast, a summary of 1996-2006 life all in 3 breaths… I chose to tell her my post-2006 life, including my August 2008-February 2009 life.

 

Just as I turned around walking towards my car parked under the scorching sun, I started wondering why I told her as much as I told her. I never finished that wondering process until recently. All I have, as a matter of stating the painfully obvious, is one life. I have lived it in a way that no clocks can ever put yesterday back into tomorrow.

 

So I told stories the way they happened. I still do. After all, honesty is still the best (and easiest to maintain) policy! When I told her the stories of my pain with a smile, I knew what I had long gained. With every single grey strand of hair I now have on my head, and every wrinkly line on my face… I know I am justified.

 

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