I want to dance on wings of love
I want to sing a song so sweet;
It rings of souls entwined so deep
Their hearts their haven of dreams that weave
A life, a journey, when their hands and lips meet.
I want a soul in tune with mine
A soul who sings my thoughts divine;
Of depth, of wisdom, of hearts combined
That lingering touch, that stays behind.
Tuesday, November 13, 2007I want to sing a song so sweet;
It rings of souls entwined so deep
Their hearts their haven of dreams that weave
A life, a journey, when their hands and lips meet.
I want a soul in tune with mine
A soul who sings my thoughts divine;
Of depth, of wisdom, of hearts combined
That lingering touch, that stays behind.
I was idly browsing through the past photos of Riley and Wiley when they were back in the same room as me. I thought how heart-warming it was to return to "home" after a horribly tired day, to see two little pairs of furry ears prick up when you open the door. Those darlings of mine were either lounging on different parts of the bed, on my chair, on my table or on the window pane. Or they would stop midway of whatever they were doing - playing, attacking my dream-catcher, stealing food from the shelves, attempting to open the fridge - to stare at me with those same ears and huge black eyes.
I remembered how I could laze the afternoon away with my cats when I didn't feel like stepping out of my room. I liked how they would find any warm spot and snuggle in with me when it was bed-time (although they have 5 bed-times during the day while I have only 1). I absolutely love how Riley would attempt to lie across my keyboard when I was busy trying to get my assignments done, and how he would roll on his back while snoozing on my lap. It was amusing how they could drive me nuts just by attempting to steal my cup of Milo - I could not leave any form of human food/drink on the table if not it will be gone. I missed the days when I could use Riley (the fatter cat) as my pillow for my afternoon naps while he used me as his pillow in the night.
The two brothers - Riley and Wiley were worlds apart in character, and sizes. Wiley was the wilful one (aptly named, huh?) who would not hesitate a second to steal food from my hand when I wasn't looking, who would jump off my window and get himself stuck in between the 1st and 2nd storey, requiring me to assemble a rescue team just to get him down, even having to bear his frightened urges to scratch and all. Riley was the fat and lazy Garfield (wrong colour, though) who would shy away from strangers but attach himself to me almost all day. He was the one I showered more attention to when both of them were growing up because of his quieter nature. Wiley would annoy the hell out of me but he was still the more active of the two, willing to destroy any dreamcatcher, string and toys that I bought for him with his trimmed claws and quick paw reflexes. Of course, Wiley was a darling with girls (like all cute boys are) who went goo-goo-gaa-gaa over him simply because he was a natural affectionate playful kitten. Riley will rather stay under my hand, cowering away from strangers but warming up only to those who were patient with him.
It is a common misconception that cats are aloof, obnoxious, lazy and everything negative. Cat owners will disagree. Majority often wonder why owners bother to clean up after their cats, succumb themselves to stroking their cats and etc. Cat owners will beg to differ - treat a cat with utmost affection whilst it is growing up and you end up with what I term a "dog-cat". "Dog-cats" sit and meow at the door when they hear your footsteps approaching the front door, they greet you at your doorstep and continue meowing till you sit down and give them the belly rub they have been waiting for. "Dog-cats" snooze at your feet while you type furiously away at your laptop while rushing for your next assignment (of course, they might attempt to snooze behind your butt or on your lap as well) and "dog-cats" snuggle up to you in bed when you retire for the night. Riley is my "dog-cat", only except that he doesn't live with me anymore - he attaches himself to Nick like he thinks the world of my good ol' bro.
Choosing between my cats and my mum was the most miserable day of my life, but people didn't really understand how I felt because only a privileged few know the emotional bond I share with my cats whilst I watch them grow from babies into young adults. The emptiness I felt upon returning home to an empty apartment of cat fur was suffocating. I had not changed my sofa covers till today even though those two rascals have left a couple of dirty paw prints on my mother's precious white sofa, partly because I was too lazy, but well...you know.
So completes a "sort of tribute" to my cats. I would take in another two kittens in future, really...when I get my own apartment and I make my own rules. Hah. I will continue living my dream. :)
Today has been a good day. So good that I didn't want it to end tonight. That will most probably explain the unsettled feeling I feel as of now, as if I have yet to accomplish what I set out to do for today.
It is funny how I live day by day these days. It is tragic to watch the world spin around their busy lives like how you have done for the past 15 years of growing up. It gets bitter-sweet when you watch happy couples stroll down Orchard Road, photos captioned with "Blissfully Happy" or the likes, or when you hear your really wonderful friends tell you about their partners, and how they feel that he/she is worth keeping by their side.
I met up with two people who played a significant role in my life today. Suddenly it feels like I have stayed put, etched in our history whilst they have moved on with their lives. But have I? Maybe memories keep flooding back, maybe I yearn for those great times again. I am even more convinced that "timing" plays a huge part in every aspect of my life, which continues to mould a character out of me and nudge the cynicism away.
"And I can't sleep....you're so far away from me."
Saturday, November 10, 2007It is funny how I live day by day these days. It is tragic to watch the world spin around their busy lives like how you have done for the past 15 years of growing up. It gets bitter-sweet when you watch happy couples stroll down Orchard Road, photos captioned with "Blissfully Happy" or the likes, or when you hear your really wonderful friends tell you about their partners, and how they feel that he/she is worth keeping by their side.
I met up with two people who played a significant role in my life today. Suddenly it feels like I have stayed put, etched in our history whilst they have moved on with their lives. But have I? Maybe memories keep flooding back, maybe I yearn for those great times again. I am even more convinced that "timing" plays a huge part in every aspect of my life, which continues to mould a character out of me and nudge the cynicism away.
"And I can't sleep....you're so far away from me."
"...so, we were just saying...?"
I just had a fabulous chat with one of my friends from NUS. I am still constantly amazed by how fast time passes, for friendships extend to 3 years and beyond already. We were talking about our friends (and ex-boy/girlfriends) getting married, having kids and blah blah. Goodness, we must be getting old really quickly. And I am only 22!
And lately, I have been questioning myself whether or not I am that dumb in general, but I thought I was pretty okay in my intellect - it is just a matter of whether people decide to listen to what I have to say, or they simply decide that it is not worth hearing my talk. After all, "talk is cheap", ain't it?
So many random thoughts have crossed my mind, and I wonder whether it is simply because I am suddenly forced to slow down, think and reflect on what I have been, am now, and want to be in future...or have I had a change of perception and my general view of human race? So many writings go into "That Pandora Box" of mine simply because if I discuss them out here, I will probably offend many others, and may possibly have a line of people waiting to raise arguments with me with matters to my writings - not like they read all of them, of course.
3 weeks of bummin' around did me good, and bad. Bad because I am not used to a slower, slacker-type pace of life...just waking up and waiting for things to happen, and when I am bored, the mind goes a little haywire. I tend to think too much, worry too much and belittle myself a little too many times. Good because I am finally slowing down to know what I want for myself, to think through my career path and to observe human behavior in general simply by chatting with more of my friends/people/strangers. Not to mention picking up inspirational books and reading them. Writing puts into perspective and sorts out those random thoughts, so everything makes sense - in a way - to me now as compared to the past.
Final conclusion. To solve what I deem as a slight problem, I only had to be the way I always am - independent, carefree, spunky and not givin' a shit about any others. Perhaps it is better to revert back to my self-centred past. So much for trying to put myself into others' shoes. Looks like being Ms Nice ain't gonna help, for now.
Sunday, November 04, 2007I just had a fabulous chat with one of my friends from NUS. I am still constantly amazed by how fast time passes, for friendships extend to 3 years and beyond already. We were talking about our friends (and ex-boy/girlfriends) getting married, having kids and blah blah. Goodness, we must be getting old really quickly. And I am only 22!
And lately, I have been questioning myself whether or not I am that dumb in general, but I thought I was pretty okay in my intellect - it is just a matter of whether people decide to listen to what I have to say, or they simply decide that it is not worth hearing my talk. After all, "talk is cheap", ain't it?
So many random thoughts have crossed my mind, and I wonder whether it is simply because I am suddenly forced to slow down, think and reflect on what I have been, am now, and want to be in future...or have I had a change of perception and my general view of human race? So many writings go into "That Pandora Box" of mine simply because if I discuss them out here, I will probably offend many others, and may possibly have a line of people waiting to raise arguments with me with matters to my writings - not like they read all of them, of course.
3 weeks of bummin' around did me good, and bad. Bad because I am not used to a slower, slacker-type pace of life...just waking up and waiting for things to happen, and when I am bored, the mind goes a little haywire. I tend to think too much, worry too much and belittle myself a little too many times. Good because I am finally slowing down to know what I want for myself, to think through my career path and to observe human behavior in general simply by chatting with more of my friends/people/strangers. Not to mention picking up inspirational books and reading them. Writing puts into perspective and sorts out those random thoughts, so everything makes sense - in a way - to me now as compared to the past.
Final conclusion. To solve what I deem as a slight problem, I only had to be the way I always am - independent, carefree, spunky and not givin' a shit about any others. Perhaps it is better to revert back to my self-centred past. So much for trying to put myself into others' shoes. Looks like being Ms Nice ain't gonna help, for now.
"...That is because, it is those relationships - family, romantic, etc. - that our inner child wounds are the most powerful. The little child within us does not feel worthy, feels defective and shameful, and is terrified of setting boundaries for fear everyone will leave. The other extreme of this phenomena is those of us who throw up huge walls to try to keep people from getting too close - and sabotage any relationship that starts getting too intimate - to try to protect the wounded child within from being hurt."
I finally know why I feel the way I do now. Many have overstepped the boundary, of which I have failed to assert and define.
Why is it that one has time to do the most mundane things, but never enough time for another person close to the heart?
Perhaps it is all karma. Perhaps it is time.
Friday, November 02, 2007I finally know why I feel the way I do now. Many have overstepped the boundary, of which I have failed to assert and define.
Why is it that one has time to do the most mundane things, but never enough time for another person close to the heart?
Perhaps it is all karma. Perhaps it is time.
Being a Woman; Embracing Aloneness
The reason why I am writing this is largely under the influence of a book I have speed-read in MPH bookstore today while waiting for my good ol' friend to turn up for lunch. The opening story of the book got me flipping for more, simply because I found myself nodding in agreement to most statements of what the author wrote, about women and their "needy" selves.
As early as Simone de Beauvoir concluded in her theory, the fairer sex has always been defined by men. Men, as in Masculine Men. Also known as "The Other", females in society have always been regarded second place to men, defined and differenciated with reference to man and not he with reference to her. "He is the Subject, the Absolute - She is the Other", quoted off Beauvoir.
To my dear girl-friend who has been there for me when I am down in the dumps and feeling at my most vulnerable, to my friend who has seen me walk in and out of different relationships trying to discover "Love", to her who understands our strength and individuality as women, to the lady who knows what is going on within me - as independent as we seem to be, the primal instinct of our fear of loneliness will always be within us. I suppose that is what kept us doing what we have always been, and that was also the nemesis of what we consider "our problems".
An independent, self-reliant man who would not be "sticky" in a relationship is always what we have desired, but what happens when our greatest fear - the man walking out of the relationship, leaving us alone - surfaces? Women have associated "being alone" as tragic and miserable, thus spending their lives searching for a man to love and to live with. Some of us have tried to escape "alone" by living a busy schedule and gaining power in status. Some have also slept with different men in their lives and competed in the Attraction/Dating game in order to feel appreciated, wanted and desired. No woman wants to be alone, because it is too negative a term.
No woman wants to end up the fate of a spinster (read: old, unwanted; an antique virgin). Young girls have played the game of The Old Maid. In the game, every player tries to get rid of The Old Maid, not wanting to end up with that dreaded card. Like the dance of life, women spend their days avoiding the fate of a spinster to escape the scrutiny of society. Beneath that iron exterior, there is always the inevitable yearn for support, desire and affection from man.
Who wouldn't blame it on a female's upbringing? When Barbie was placed in a girl's hands, the "ideal body image" has already been imprinted unto the female, to be her own grown-up Barbie living happily after with Ken. When a teenage daughter seeks approval off her mum, who in turn is trying to live with a growing-up child; when a father sees his daughter as a "young son"; the fear of being left out from a group of friends (the magical circle); escapism in the form of "our secret gardens"; fairy tales of princesses rescued by their Prince Charming; the mirror of media etc. It is even etched in history when God created Adam and Eve. When Eve ate the apple of Wisdom, she was not rewarded for her gain of independence - she was punished. Women as "objects of desire" see themselves as "the Other" through the eyes of men, and the downward spiral continues as they seek independence, only to look to gain approval from men, and the cycle continues.
Back to aloneness. Loneliness and Emptiness are states of mind, like happiness. For almost all our lives, women have associated "aloneness" with "loneliness" and "emptiness". To embrace aloneness is to celebrate solitude. It allows us to breathe and appreciate our own existence amidst the busy schedule we are so immersed in, it allows us to keep in touch with our souls while everybody continues running in the rat race. True independence lies in enjoying own's own company of herself, dependence is allowing the beliefs of loneliness to infiltrate in our lives. Which then, will you choose?
Each day we surround ourselves with people. We are grateful for friends and their companionships. Why have we not celebrated our very own souls and solitude, the best forms of companionship in the world? In all that hurricane of media perceptions, societal pressures and the need to conform, it is no wonder women have lost track of who they are and want to be. Guilty and charged, I find myself falling into the abyss of such thoughts and beliefs. I find myself feeling "needy" without the assurance of a man and his affection, I find myself asking the weirdest questions about "love". Was I in love with the man, or did I really want the exquisite pain that comes with wanting a man that is so unattainable? (quoted off Sex & The City). Or was I, like most women, in love with the idea of love and not with the man himself?
My friends laugh, for they say it is the first time they hear me complain of someone not spending enough time with me, because it is usually the other way round. I am, I admit, thoroughly impatient with men who insist I do not have time for them. I recognize my own fear of loneliness and emptiness, and for all my years of growing up I have curbed these sources of anxiety by living a very busy life, as I am well-known for. Perhaps it is finally time to embrace solitude...perhaps I am on the path of finding it. Perhaps...we shall see.
The reason why I am writing this is largely under the influence of a book I have speed-read in MPH bookstore today while waiting for my good ol' friend to turn up for lunch. The opening story of the book got me flipping for more, simply because I found myself nodding in agreement to most statements of what the author wrote, about women and their "needy" selves.
As early as Simone de Beauvoir concluded in her theory, the fairer sex has always been defined by men. Men, as in Masculine Men. Also known as "The Other", females in society have always been regarded second place to men, defined and differenciated with reference to man and not he with reference to her. "He is the Subject, the Absolute - She is the Other", quoted off Beauvoir.
To my dear girl-friend who has been there for me when I am down in the dumps and feeling at my most vulnerable, to my friend who has seen me walk in and out of different relationships trying to discover "Love", to her who understands our strength and individuality as women, to the lady who knows what is going on within me - as independent as we seem to be, the primal instinct of our fear of loneliness will always be within us. I suppose that is what kept us doing what we have always been, and that was also the nemesis of what we consider "our problems".
An independent, self-reliant man who would not be "sticky" in a relationship is always what we have desired, but what happens when our greatest fear - the man walking out of the relationship, leaving us alone - surfaces? Women have associated "being alone" as tragic and miserable, thus spending their lives searching for a man to love and to live with. Some of us have tried to escape "alone" by living a busy schedule and gaining power in status. Some have also slept with different men in their lives and competed in the Attraction/Dating game in order to feel appreciated, wanted and desired. No woman wants to be alone, because it is too negative a term.
No woman wants to end up the fate of a spinster (read: old, unwanted; an antique virgin). Young girls have played the game of The Old Maid. In the game, every player tries to get rid of The Old Maid, not wanting to end up with that dreaded card. Like the dance of life, women spend their days avoiding the fate of a spinster to escape the scrutiny of society. Beneath that iron exterior, there is always the inevitable yearn for support, desire and affection from man.
Who wouldn't blame it on a female's upbringing? When Barbie was placed in a girl's hands, the "ideal body image" has already been imprinted unto the female, to be her own grown-up Barbie living happily after with Ken. When a teenage daughter seeks approval off her mum, who in turn is trying to live with a growing-up child; when a father sees his daughter as a "young son"; the fear of being left out from a group of friends (the magical circle); escapism in the form of "our secret gardens"; fairy tales of princesses rescued by their Prince Charming; the mirror of media etc. It is even etched in history when God created Adam and Eve. When Eve ate the apple of Wisdom, she was not rewarded for her gain of independence - she was punished. Women as "objects of desire" see themselves as "the Other" through the eyes of men, and the downward spiral continues as they seek independence, only to look to gain approval from men, and the cycle continues.
Back to aloneness. Loneliness and Emptiness are states of mind, like happiness. For almost all our lives, women have associated "aloneness" with "loneliness" and "emptiness". To embrace aloneness is to celebrate solitude. It allows us to breathe and appreciate our own existence amidst the busy schedule we are so immersed in, it allows us to keep in touch with our souls while everybody continues running in the rat race. True independence lies in enjoying own's own company of herself, dependence is allowing the beliefs of loneliness to infiltrate in our lives. Which then, will you choose?
Each day we surround ourselves with people. We are grateful for friends and their companionships. Why have we not celebrated our very own souls and solitude, the best forms of companionship in the world? In all that hurricane of media perceptions, societal pressures and the need to conform, it is no wonder women have lost track of who they are and want to be. Guilty and charged, I find myself falling into the abyss of such thoughts and beliefs. I find myself feeling "needy" without the assurance of a man and his affection, I find myself asking the weirdest questions about "love". Was I in love with the man, or did I really want the exquisite pain that comes with wanting a man that is so unattainable? (quoted off Sex & The City). Or was I, like most women, in love with the idea of love and not with the man himself?
My friends laugh, for they say it is the first time they hear me complain of someone not spending enough time with me, because it is usually the other way round. I am, I admit, thoroughly impatient with men who insist I do not have time for them. I recognize my own fear of loneliness and emptiness, and for all my years of growing up I have curbed these sources of anxiety by living a very busy life, as I am well-known for. Perhaps it is finally time to embrace solitude...perhaps I am on the path of finding it. Perhaps...we shall see.