The Italian Affair

It was an impromptu decision to go out for dinner and I think the white wine was the point at which it turned into a dinner date at an Italian restaurant. It's funny how easily lighting, ambience and a bottle of wine sets the stage in a certain fashion. It was a nice, warm dinner and details fuzzied by the tipsy feeling in my head. We talked, we laughed and i shed a tear or two. I am a barrel of emotions waiting to burst forth at every opportunity. There was something in his eyes that looked a little different last night, was it empathy? I've only seen that expression on one other guy whom I shared my thoughts with, the boat I waited in vain for. Yet I shook my head as a reminder to self that no, this was someone else I'm talking to. And I didn't expect myself to share about my missed boat as well. It must be the wine tat tipped the barrel.

Perhaps my threshold and love for wine has never been that consumerate. I was tipsy by the later half of dinner and requested that he had to remain sober to send me back. Not that he needed to hear that of course. I leaned on his arm on our way out to the car, all the time laughing about how scandalous it looked if we met someone we knew. He said i was going to die of embarrassment the next time we met, for he had never seen me like that - he said it was cute, whatever that meant. I just didn't want to be seen tipsy - it was to me a sign of lack of self control (ok it really was) and i hate to be seen like that. I was singing to SOMEWHERE OUT THERE in the car, one of my fav songs. We argued if it was fr Aladdin or in his words, "sung by the rat in American Tales". (and this is one evidence that i was truly tipsy - i found myself insisting on sth that is obviously wrong. I just couldn't accept, in my state of fuzziness, that a rat sang my fav song). When we reached my place, he held my hand like a gentleman would, and guided me all the way to my doorstep.

I found myself thinking about last night most of today, trying to make sense of what it meant. Probably nothing much. But it was a nice night and I don't want to spoil it by thinking of what-ifs. Something in the equation will change, and that's not what I want.

Write.Right.Rite

A twitter account to amuse myself with (but it's really trashy - whoever thought of putting a 140 char limit on words clearly doesn't love words enough), a tumblr blog to store my more philosophical musings and my trusted blogspot to pour out my deepest darkest. Only old friends who still remember will bother to visit this humble abode and I feel a sense of camaraderie whenever one of you tell me, "hey, I read your blog". It matters to me, that you want to be updated about my life and participate in my rite to write, right.

the JD

i had the most informal session today, with talks of travelling the world to seal agreements, living the "high intellectual and governmental life" of meeting people, going places, charming my way to make a difference for a greater good. i did well i think, granted that i didn't have much time to rehearse my lines or organize my thoughts. but a part of me remains lucid and cynical of the fulfillment that a younger me might have envisaged. this opportunity in the horizon was after all, still a part of the mammoth system that sustains the city-state, with strings attached and glass ceilings thick as walls. the JD always sounds awesome, challenging and sexy - but reality is closer to the pendulum oscillating between boredom and hectic activity, with the sword of Damocles hanging over one's head, ready to set some heads rolling at the whim and fancy of some big shot in the system.

I dislike the system - how it has always streamed people at some early point in their lives, divided into gold, silver and iron by some Noble Myth which has ceased to be noble for a long time. the glass ceiling for the silver caste (who made it there through a longer and more arduous route) was solid as stone. yet the guardians of the system like to polish that ceiling, thinking that it makes it more transparent and less of an eyesore. but no, we silvers feel it rather acutely as we try to become more upwardly mobile.

I have to concede though, that the city state is too small to escape its clutches. every other opportunity that I hear (with remote Prospects) was linked to the system some way or another. I have increasingly lost patience with a regimented existence, but it costs too much to be an outcast of the system. financially, socially, emotionally. until.... i find that which motivates me beyond the fat paycheck, flexible hours and a comfortable obscure existence. I seek to find it, but the city-state might be too small to house it.

Quote

Reinhold Niebuhr put it best: “Nothing that is worth doing can be achieved in our lifetime; therefore, we must be saved by hope. ... Nothing we do, however virtuous, can be accomplished alone; therefore, we are saved by love. No virtuous act is quite as virtuous from the standpoint of our friend or foe as it is from our standpoint. Therefore, we must be saved by the final form of love, which is forgiveness."

His presence

In His presence, the pain in my heart wells up to the point of release. And yet, better is one day in Your courts, than a thousand elsewhere.

Only He will understand, how deep my regrets in life. And only He will grant me the pardon I need.

But honestly? I very much feel like running away.

Savoring it all

An enchanting night at PS Cafe. The music was right, the ambience mesmerizing and the food satisfying. I chose a Sauvignon Blanc for the party and it turned out absolutely charming. I basked in the moment, being who I am and saying words that I truly meant. Narcissistic as it sounds, it feels good to be in good company, but good to know that I myself was good company as well. That is much in life to savor, and I promised myself to do just that, to savor and bask in all of it vicariously. 

Small town girl

Dissatisfied, to be a small town girl with small town preoccupations. I too, want to go see the world. To see the world, in its glorious splendor, overwhelming freedom and a horizon of possibilities..

Bring me! 

Break.

I had once prayed, that God would break me, break me down completely, that I might yield to His will for me. Perhaps He had already started a long time ago, but I was resisting, resisting silently yet persistently that I might not feel the pain and sorrow.

I too, want to take a break from myself, my own fortress and high tower. Away from myself to a place of art, beauty, contemplation. 

Sweet

dear rae,
paris's amazing. i've been here for the past 4 days. the museums are splendid and well stock with monets, reniors, van goghs and the likes.
the food is delicious and snow's pretty.
wish you were here.

Thanks for remembering. So sweet of you :) 

Musky back office

Musky back office with deathly silence and cardboards strewn all over. Very unlike what I had expected of an exciting new endeavor. I have a feeling this is the last they'll see of me.

Genes

Genes are hard to fight, because they are God's specifications for each one of us. My long battle with my self image seems to have borne some fruit when I stepped out of my teenage era, but the proverbial bulges still bug me once in a while. And a meal is always to me, a composition of its fats, carbs, protein. Which is why I hardly ever finish up a 'bad' meal, unless my taste buds tell me its worth the calories. Each day, the duration of time that I spend on my butt is always measured against the intensity I spent in the gym, triggering periods of guilt and quiet self reprimand. Fruits are to me, a source of good fibre and antioxidants, or not. I eat them, because they're good for me. Such an uneasy way to live, but it has become a subconscious habit.

Scholarly stress

On my way to language exams.. I ask why I'm subjected to such scholarly stress once again, but last night I had a dream. In my dream I was explaining to 2 university students the importance of good essay writing, reminiscent of my PS Peers Writing Center days where i explained tirelessly the need for good topic sentences strategically placed in their appropriate paragraphs. And strangely I was comforted, reminded once again my love for words and good communication. And I thank God that even in mastering a new language, I see how the language ability given me was trans-culture and trans-language somehow. Writing an essay in English or Malay was the same enchanting process for me, to make myself understood loud and clear, using the most appropriate words my vocabulary would allow me. And I find much joy and satisfaction in doing so.

I ask myself how to harness this passion. The impatience inbuilt in my gung-ho personality arises again. But perhaps, this time I shall leave it to ferment and grow. God plants and He will grow it. A season, for every activity under the sun.

quotes.

God gives the very best to those who leave the choice to Him.

 

* * *

If some things are better left unsaid, then maybe they too are better left undone.

the gadget

i got myself a Toshiba at the IT fair, and it's the epitome of beauty with intelligence. awesome buy. I think i'm obsessed with getting in touch with information and knowledge due to the lack of an exciting thought life. but i'm working on that, i promise.

i went to borders today and picked up 2 graphic introductions to Rousseau and Kierkegaard.. i was a little hesitant to lower my capacity for deep philosophical thought by compromising complex language for illustrations, but i shouldn't be ashamed. pictures are alot easier to digest when you're stuck on a crowded bus struggling to stand, breathe and trying to read a dead philosopher while heading for work. i ought to be able to cut myself some slack. btw, Rousseau (left) looks a little like my favourite political philosopher professor (who in turn regards Rousseau as his fav philosopher). i think it's the combination of a handsome intellectual aura and that slight rebellion in his eyes. that refusal to be content with mainstream society with its norms and moral ethics. but because of that, both men seem to have struggled a lot in their quest for happiness and fulfillment.

and i have found myself to struggle more now as well. i think it's the symptom of moving on from the safe bed of aspirations to the more pressing test of living one's life, for real. of making decisions from the book i will read to the job i will apply for. from choosing to believe that all my inclinations are positive for my personal development to the admission that my weaknesses define me alot more than i thought. these thoughts are making me more sober and more aware of the passing of time. time is short and i have decisions to make, a calling to fulfill. May i not miss the signs.

the path.

Sometimes i deliberately avoid knowing about human suffering and injustice in tbe news and in books. Because i fear the weight it will have upon my heart, and that regret and shame of knowing that i can make a difference somehow.. And i hadn't. I have always felt all sorts of human suffering as my very own for as long as I can remember.. And weighing on my shoulders that overwhelming responsibility of making this world a more comforting place to be in. I think God has a calling for me in that aspect, and perhaps of all His children as well, that in our own ways we love, care, nourish and protect all that He cherishes.. You, me and the rest of humankind. I have that strong sense of calling to channel my energy and my talents into doing that. But I do not yet know how.. And hence that constant low level of trepidation and introspection continues precariously.

I was overwhelmed by many thoughts over the past few days. Of human government and the religion we have created to replace faith. First of all, i find myself deeply disappointed that a wanted fugitive's family was hung out to dry, partly out of necessity (to uphold the law and as a deterrence) of course, but I read b/w the lines, deliberate political rhetoric to damage control and draw attention away from the oversight on the part of the authorities. And so a family was condemned, for the purportedly greater good of national security.

And another government shells its brother nation to shore up its precarious rising leadership. In the name of national interest and self defense. This is indeed politics as we have seen through history. Men are deceitful and gullible creatures at the same time.

But surely the human spirit can be more than that? That surely we can do more than destroy each other in the quest for personal agenda and gains? I remember the times I had argued fiercely against the realists in my political science classes, their purported "practical" and "right" answers to international relations and good governance never convincing me. And i don't think i will be convinced by those arguments, ever.

And on religion. One of my language teachers is a kind pious old man who is also a religious teacher in the masjid. I love and respect him much for his tenacity and piety. In his 70-odd years, he has had to bury his teenage son, care for his daughter who developed a psychiatric illness after a sour divorce, battle his ailing body while moving onward with God as his compass. Through him, I find myself attracted to some aspect of his religion, the parts that Christianity also advances abt God as Creator, to see an imperfect man seeking to do what is pleasing to God, hanging on to God in the midst of adversity and pain.

But I also find disturbing that the basis of the Islamic faith differs from Christianity in innocuous ways that lead brothers onto vastly different paths.. And I see in my head a fork in the road, one Islam the other Christianity, one to Heaven and the other Hell.. And on each road the followers are convinced the other brother had strayed from the path and only his own shall lead to God Himself. Was Abrahim asked to sacrifice Isaac or Ismail on that hill? Or does that not matter in the end because neither brother can be utterly sure (using reason) that his path was the right one? I'm faced with my own questions about faith.

And of course, Kierkegaard. The more I read that existentialist philosopher, the more I understand why CS came to know God through his writings. More on him later, if i can crystalize my thoughts on him.

Alone

Being alone, takes some getting used to. The feeling of being my own person again always comes as a liberation movement at first, with its accompanying elation and hope. Then it settles into a dull ache, when the missing part becomes starkly empty.. The harder stage to bear is yet to come, I think. When I would finally finally know for a fact that I was indeed, alone.

Free.

Sat morning, the guerilla warfare within my heart was over. It was the end of our 1.5yrs or on-and-off tussle, the start of rediscovering myself. It was a quiet but dignified affair as I composed a msg, and concluded the battle. There was no response, but I had conveyed all that I had to. There were no blows left to exchange, and I think he knew.

Was I sad? I think not.. I had thought of relenting, give it a little more time for feelings to wane between us, but sth he said over the line the night before pretty much pushed me to make the decision I should have, more than a year ago. I had poured out my thoughts once again to him, explaining how I was stifled, adjusting to his ultra-practical perspective and life. I was dissatisfied and unhappy in the r/s. He proceeded to give me a lecture on how philosophical and idealistic I was as a person, as if they were dirty words. He urged me to stop thinking, and appreciate what I have now (pretty much referring to himself). He believed I was ungrateful for all he had done for me, and he thought he did a pretty good job. All these words said matter-of-factly and without a pause for self reflection. If most US Presidents are indeed ISTJs, he must be a George W. Bush equivalent. And obviously it pushed all the wrong buttons for an ENFP.

What? I was and still am indignant. No amount of care and concern he had showered upon me can make up for his stepping all over my self worth and dignity. He never thought much of my philosophical musings, my instinctive thought processes, my view of the world as a world of possibilities, my belief in the goodness of mankind. And it irks and frustrates me. No one who knew me well had ever thought I was weak because I feel a larger spectrum of emotions than most, no one had ever criticized my philosophical side as too impractical and naive. They might have suspected these were traits that i had to manage carefully, but none thought they were character flaws.

Was I blind? I think so. I was really moved when I shared this with mum and she told me that I am a princess; that this man was no prince and he obviously didn't deserve me. I didn't realise how i had began to doubt my self worth thru his eyes. How did I manage to stay on this r/s for more than a week? Perhaps that was the evidence that my emotions can get the better of me and I have the ability to self radicalize and hoodwink myself into believing I can be truly happy with this man. A lesson learnt. No MCP, ultra-practical man for me pls. I'm much better off being alone, and complete once again.

Cheers!

Day 2 - Operation ME Time

I sent out my resume to apply for 2 positions last night. One, a shot at international relations, the other social policy cum events management position. Both give me good vibes, but I'm keener on the first. The exposure would do me much good, if I should make the mark. Although it's not a job to impact lives more directly, I love the idea of working in a dynamic environment, engaging organizations locally and international. The thirst for politics still remains in my parched throat. Time to do some interview prep.

Day 2 of rebellion. A persistent cough plagued me for most of last night, so I took a day off. Here I am in the library, reading and loving each minute. I love me time. Saves me another day of guerilla warfare too, although that's cheating. The Enemy is good though, he hasn't contacted me at all last night and today. I think he's playing the waiting game, hoping that time would be on his side and the guerilla warrior lets her guard down to allow guilt to propel her out of the safety of the rainforest.

No way.

Guerilla warfare rule no. 1

Day 1 report (part 1):

Indifference, clear articulation of my assessment of our basic incompatibility without too much explanation or examples. I've come to realize that less is more precise - arguing on details always puts my stand at the compromising end. Just enough to state my view succinctly and honestly without the hues of emotion coloring the battle.

Like what my heart of gold friend says, remember the tactics of guerilla warfare. You're small, the enemy is big. but you're quick and agile, the enemy is huge and cumbersome. so you hide and you hide well.

The Rebellion

Day 1 of rebellion against status quo.

My sis sat me down to share her thoughts abt my r/s last night. Of all that she said, the most poignant was her advice to trust my gut feeling, the feeling that The Boy was not good enough for me and I was compromising my expectations for his affection that many other eligible men can give.

My emotional side gave a zillion excuses as usual; that we were at a comfy stage like family, our proximity would make a breakup hard to bear, I have no solid reason to breakup except the iffy feeling that I'm not gg to be happy living with this man in future. My rational side, however, agreed with her assessment that I was trapped in false sense of security and emotional closeness precisely of our proximity and daily efforts to maintain that proximity whenever we're apart.

Hence births the plan to rebel against the status quo. I keep in mind that previous mutinies were met with unresolved issues that I swallowed right back, due to that girlish desire to make my first t/s the last, befitting of a fairytale ending. And his strong argumentative personality that made my declarations sound superfluous.

So this is going to be a longer battle. One of rational calculation and intentional pursuit of true happiness. Not the way I'd prefer, but when reasoning or heart-to-heart talk fails, signals and more concrete actions over a longer term will have to relay that same message.

Bonne chance.