Today I begin my day in a different style. I do the same things no doubt, but things are different. It's satisfying because now I embark on a journey which not many people get the chance to take. It's the road less travelled, perhaps.
Today I look at myself in the mirror. I look exactly the same. I don't know where my new journey will take me but I can be sure that this is my dream come true. This is the first step to chasing my dream. A life in what I love to do. Whether I make it depends on many factors but am I determined enough not to drown in a pool of hopeful dreamers and fall back to a stable life with stable income.
Today, as I exit my door to have the usual afternoon beer at a certain brewery, I take note of myself. What I have done for the past 19 years, what I will acomplish as my life unfolds, whatever happens from now on, good or bad, must never change who I am and who I have been my entire life. Everyone loves to chase their dream but not many are able to do it. For those who can many fall out along the way.
And for those who have actually fulfilled their dreams, how many can actually remember the booze, smokes and dirt of a life they once lived.
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Saturday, August 25, 2007
Night Of Gay Gazettes
Tonight was a great night.
After many months of Mishima-ising, I'm glad we had a little party to make sure everyone's not totally Mishima-ised. Actually, it was more for me to realize that everyone else had moved on and it's really not healthy to remain Mishima-ised for too long.
For those of you who don't know, Mishima Yukio was a Japanese author whose works toggled between the really gay and the really disturbing. Mishima's skill lay not in convincing his readers of his ideals and philospohy on life (more death really) but more in communicating the beauty of what he saw in those ideals. The result is a really disturbing aftertaste which left me glazed for months and truth be told, I still am pretty caught up in Mishima's dream world.
But tonight's gathering let me know, in its own special way, that as actors (or directors or whatever) we move on. We learn by absorbing scripts that we come across and set them neatly aside after we're done with them. I guess that's how actors live. If not, the word 'actor' would have to be synonymous with 'philosophical', 'confused' and eventually 'crazy'.
But well, this is meant to be a light hearted post so focussing more on the party, it was really great. From Sonny and Serene's beautiful home to the delicious food to every single person there.
Nureen, Siti for being crazy as ever.
Sherilyn.. gula melaka? Melekit?
Kevin was really sweet in his own way, as usual. Don't worry, we're not losing contact this time buddy.
Andrew and the missus were hilarious and yet serious at the same time. Wonder how they manage that.
Shirin, I think the funniest thing of the night was you quietly crawling off to the corner when asked to play charades.
Rubitha telling spooky theatre stories and Philip just dismissing all of them as 'vibrations'.
Bridget looking well rested and ready for more acting. Do take care though!
Elizabeth for feeling the need to touch everyone in the house in some way before she made her exit.
Neomi for sharing so much about Japan and how the world is so linked up with one another. Oh and for informing me that the area I stayed in in Tokyo was a slum area rather noted for its sneaky activies.
Who can forget Richard. This post is actually titled after his line, "I'm watching for everything you say. Just let one word slip and by tomorrow, you'll be in the gay gazette and EEEEEVERYONE (*high pitched voice*) will know!"
That's definitely not EVERYONE who was there but you get my point. It was a great party to mark the ending of my connection with Mishima:Women in Love. And a new beginning as well. I'll spare you the juicy details. =P
Dom
After many months of Mishima-ising, I'm glad we had a little party to make sure everyone's not totally Mishima-ised. Actually, it was more for me to realize that everyone else had moved on and it's really not healthy to remain Mishima-ised for too long.
For those of you who don't know, Mishima Yukio was a Japanese author whose works toggled between the really gay and the really disturbing. Mishima's skill lay not in convincing his readers of his ideals and philospohy on life (more death really) but more in communicating the beauty of what he saw in those ideals. The result is a really disturbing aftertaste which left me glazed for months and truth be told, I still am pretty caught up in Mishima's dream world.
But tonight's gathering let me know, in its own special way, that as actors (or directors or whatever) we move on. We learn by absorbing scripts that we come across and set them neatly aside after we're done with them. I guess that's how actors live. If not, the word 'actor' would have to be synonymous with 'philosophical', 'confused' and eventually 'crazy'.
But well, this is meant to be a light hearted post so focussing more on the party, it was really great. From Sonny and Serene's beautiful home to the delicious food to every single person there.
Nureen, Siti for being crazy as ever.
Sherilyn.. gula melaka? Melekit?
Kevin was really sweet in his own way, as usual. Don't worry, we're not losing contact this time buddy.
Andrew and the missus were hilarious and yet serious at the same time. Wonder how they manage that.
Shirin, I think the funniest thing of the night was you quietly crawling off to the corner when asked to play charades.
Rubitha telling spooky theatre stories and Philip just dismissing all of them as 'vibrations'.
Bridget looking well rested and ready for more acting. Do take care though!
Elizabeth for feeling the need to touch everyone in the house in some way before she made her exit.
Neomi for sharing so much about Japan and how the world is so linked up with one another. Oh and for informing me that the area I stayed in in Tokyo was a slum area rather noted for its sneaky activies.
Who can forget Richard. This post is actually titled after his line, "I'm watching for everything you say. Just let one word slip and by tomorrow, you'll be in the gay gazette and EEEEEVERYONE (*high pitched voice*) will know!"
That's definitely not EVERYONE who was there but you get my point. It was a great party to mark the ending of my connection with Mishima:Women in Love. And a new beginning as well. I'll spare you the juicy details. =P
Dom
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Open Up
***Sure we love it. That sudden sensation that passes through the body is simply undescribable. Actually it's a little like peeing but its wayyyyy better than that. It makes me twitch where I never knew could twitch, both on the outside and inside. And after the initial surge, it's like there's this invisible shield of happiness and satisfaction around my body. It's like nothing in this world could take this contentment from me.
But you know, coming here wasn't an easy thing. Oh, *giggle* not coming coming but.. you get what I mean. I mean bringing myself to actually doing it wasn't an easy thing. I was curious about the mystery and stuff surrounding sex since I don't know when but it was just a case of wanting to taste the forbidden fruit. And when this fruit that looked so delicious from afar was finally dangling before my very eyes, I just couldn't. I don't know how many guys I actually left hanging right in the centre of my room looking desperate and dishevelled. I felt bad about the situation but I just couldn't.
I've never been a promiscuous girl. In fact I don't think there's such a thing. We're naturally shy and honestly, we're not that much into sex as well. I know guys just want to have their fun, shoot their load and then fall right off to sleep. It's just the way they're wired and I don't blame them for being that way. In fact sometimes I find it rather cute - the way they suddenly seem to have had every ounce of energy expelled together with their cum.
That gentle boy kept his eyes deeply focused on mine all the time and time seemed to have stood still. He kissed my forehead and said that it might hurt a little (sheesh, like he'd know). Then he did something we've never done before. He took my legs and held them by each side of his thigh. My little girl was wide open to him. Still looking straight into my eyes, he went in. Oh my God it hurt so much I felt like a little girl again. I didn't orgasm nor did it feel entirely good. I felt a little weird down there and I couldn't sit cross legged for a few days without feeling uncomfortable.
Stop giving me that look ok. I'm getting to my main point already! *rolls eyes*
You see, a demure and feminine girl like me *winkwink* keeps her legs as close together as possible throughout most of the day. Girls who open their legs wide are viewed by the world as cheap. But that night, as I prepared to take my boyfriend to a place where no man had ever been before, I opened my legs wide. I didn't care if the world thought I was a slut because all that mattered was that he didn't think I was. And it took us so long in our relationship for me to really trust in him, to know that he wouldn't treat me as a slut in order for me to bring myself to have sex with him. In fact, it was only then that I knew why couples usually say 'making love' instead.
To have my guy's dick inside of me might have been painful (well they do say that love hurts), but I felt like an empty part of me was suddenly complete. It was as if I had been missing out on something for 16 years and suddenly reconciliation brought with it emotions and physical sensations that were out of this world.
So there I was, lying on my bed stripped of all clothing, absolutely vulnerable to him standing before me, legs wide open to him like a slut waiting to be penetrated and when he finally entered me.. my pussy was gripped on to him, not wanting to let go. And that's exactly how I felt after we did it. I never wanted to let him go.
We broke up after a while because we didn't seem be going in the same direction. I've had a couple of partners after him and the same complicated emotions pass through my body every time I make love to someone. I begin in the same vulnerable position, open my slutty legs wide, wrap them round his waist and anticipate him completing that void in my physical existence.
I've begun to control my emotions though. I've seen enough men to know that they can't really keep their dicks to their own partners. And for that, I sacrifice a bit of my own pleasure. I've begun to fake orgasms just to see that look on those faces. The look that screams “I'm a man.. she needs me” Little does he know how vulnerable he seems through my eyes as I fake each moan and twitch, controlling the exact moment when he cums.
Why do I still have sex then? I guess its the inevitable fate of every girl to become hardened against the stupid gender we call 'man' and yet still believe that one day, I might just meet that special guy to whom opening my legs wouldn't deem me a slut, to whom being vulnerable to would mean gaining protection. But most importantly, a guy who won't expel all his promises and our memories together with his cum. Cos even if I licked up every drop of it, I would never be able to open my legs to him the same way, exposing all my weaknesses and vulnerabilities, anymore.***
So now we know why girls make such a big deal out of sex. And guys who are girls inside as well.
But you know, coming here wasn't an easy thing. Oh, *giggle* not coming coming but.. you get what I mean. I mean bringing myself to actually doing it wasn't an easy thing. I was curious about the mystery and stuff surrounding sex since I don't know when but it was just a case of wanting to taste the forbidden fruit. And when this fruit that looked so delicious from afar was finally dangling before my very eyes, I just couldn't. I don't know how many guys I actually left hanging right in the centre of my room looking desperate and dishevelled. I felt bad about the situation but I just couldn't.
I've never been a promiscuous girl. In fact I don't think there's such a thing. We're naturally shy and honestly, we're not that much into sex as well. I know guys just want to have their fun, shoot their load and then fall right off to sleep. It's just the way they're wired and I don't blame them for being that way. In fact sometimes I find it rather cute - the way they suddenly seem to have had every ounce of energy expelled together with their cum.
That gentle boy kept his eyes deeply focused on mine all the time and time seemed to have stood still. He kissed my forehead and said that it might hurt a little (sheesh, like he'd know). Then he did something we've never done before. He took my legs and held them by each side of his thigh. My little girl was wide open to him. Still looking straight into my eyes, he went in. Oh my God it hurt so much I felt like a little girl again. I didn't orgasm nor did it feel entirely good. I felt a little weird down there and I couldn't sit cross legged for a few days without feeling uncomfortable.
Stop giving me that look ok. I'm getting to my main point already! *rolls eyes*
You see, a demure and feminine girl like me *winkwink* keeps her legs as close together as possible throughout most of the day. Girls who open their legs wide are viewed by the world as cheap. But that night, as I prepared to take my boyfriend to a place where no man had ever been before, I opened my legs wide. I didn't care if the world thought I was a slut because all that mattered was that he didn't think I was. And it took us so long in our relationship for me to really trust in him, to know that he wouldn't treat me as a slut in order for me to bring myself to have sex with him. In fact, it was only then that I knew why couples usually say 'making love' instead.
To have my guy's dick inside of me might have been painful (well they do say that love hurts), but I felt like an empty part of me was suddenly complete. It was as if I had been missing out on something for 16 years and suddenly reconciliation brought with it emotions and physical sensations that were out of this world.
So there I was, lying on my bed stripped of all clothing, absolutely vulnerable to him standing before me, legs wide open to him like a slut waiting to be penetrated and when he finally entered me.. my pussy was gripped on to him, not wanting to let go. And that's exactly how I felt after we did it. I never wanted to let him go.
We broke up after a while because we didn't seem be going in the same direction. I've had a couple of partners after him and the same complicated emotions pass through my body every time I make love to someone. I begin in the same vulnerable position, open my slutty legs wide, wrap them round his waist and anticipate him completing that void in my physical existence.
I've begun to control my emotions though. I've seen enough men to know that they can't really keep their dicks to their own partners. And for that, I sacrifice a bit of my own pleasure. I've begun to fake orgasms just to see that look on those faces. The look that screams “I'm a man.. she needs me” Little does he know how vulnerable he seems through my eyes as I fake each moan and twitch, controlling the exact moment when he cums.
Why do I still have sex then? I guess its the inevitable fate of every girl to become hardened against the stupid gender we call 'man' and yet still believe that one day, I might just meet that special guy to whom opening my legs wouldn't deem me a slut, to whom being vulnerable to would mean gaining protection. But most importantly, a guy who won't expel all his promises and our memories together with his cum. Cos even if I licked up every drop of it, I would never be able to open my legs to him the same way, exposing all my weaknesses and vulnerabilities, anymore.***
So now we know why girls make such a big deal out of sex. And guys who are girls inside as well.
Friday, August 17, 2007
Scumbag
They say life is a learning journey. I think I can finally succumb to that notion. I learnt something last night that I should never have had to learn but I did.
They say clubs are a dangerous place. Even as I reach the anniversary of my 20th year of life on earth, my mother never fails to paint an extremely rough place whenevr I mention I'm going to a club. Gangsta rap, drugs, booze and guns seem part of her oftentime melodramatic description. I never really let it get to me though because over the past 3 years that I've been an occassional clubber, nothing's really happened.
But last night made me learn that though drugs are one thing you should be apprehensive about in clubs and when you're ponted at with a gun, though not really a big problem in our little island, you should just calmly say a prayer and try to walk away, the biggest problem in clubs is the very people who frequent them in the first place, guys in particular.
Last night, I found out how much of a scumbag some guys can be. Well to be fair, there just one particular scumbag who has a history of being a scumbag in the first place. And I should have seen through the entire act to know that a leopard simply cannot change its spots. I would and could never grope or force a girl to kiss me if she didn't want to (though sometimes I wish I had it in me to do so) and nothing's going to change that. Unfortunately the converse is true as well.
Last night, I let someone that I cared about get past my eyes, which led to the most frustrating and not to mention infuriating 25 minutes of my teenage life. As I countdown the days to the big day when i'll kiss my teenage years goodbye, I can only hope and do whatever is in my power to make sure no one walks away the way I did 3 years ago. I can only hope that scumbags stay where they should and preferably out of my sight. My tolerance for sneaky wolves like that has worn thin despite only 2 main chance encounters over a few years.
To everyone else last night, its not nice the way things turned out but I'm not the one who owes anyone an apology. But since most of you were looking enjoyably high, talking shit and strutting around in heels which are usually seen beneath a girl's feet, I guess the night didn't come to that bad an end after all. As for that scumbag, my rage clearly wasn't just about what happened last night and its time for me to let go. And today's the time I will. But the night showed me that despite how much people may change, their core remains the same. Good luck to finding out.
They say clubs are a dangerous place. Even as I reach the anniversary of my 20th year of life on earth, my mother never fails to paint an extremely rough place whenevr I mention I'm going to a club. Gangsta rap, drugs, booze and guns seem part of her oftentime melodramatic description. I never really let it get to me though because over the past 3 years that I've been an occassional clubber, nothing's really happened.
But last night made me learn that though drugs are one thing you should be apprehensive about in clubs and when you're ponted at with a gun, though not really a big problem in our little island, you should just calmly say a prayer and try to walk away, the biggest problem in clubs is the very people who frequent them in the first place, guys in particular.
Last night, I found out how much of a scumbag some guys can be. Well to be fair, there just one particular scumbag who has a history of being a scumbag in the first place. And I should have seen through the entire act to know that a leopard simply cannot change its spots. I would and could never grope or force a girl to kiss me if she didn't want to (though sometimes I wish I had it in me to do so) and nothing's going to change that. Unfortunately the converse is true as well.
Last night, I let someone that I cared about get past my eyes, which led to the most frustrating and not to mention infuriating 25 minutes of my teenage life. As I countdown the days to the big day when i'll kiss my teenage years goodbye, I can only hope and do whatever is in my power to make sure no one walks away the way I did 3 years ago. I can only hope that scumbags stay where they should and preferably out of my sight. My tolerance for sneaky wolves like that has worn thin despite only 2 main chance encounters over a few years.
To everyone else last night, its not nice the way things turned out but I'm not the one who owes anyone an apology. But since most of you were looking enjoyably high, talking shit and strutting around in heels which are usually seen beneath a girl's feet, I guess the night didn't come to that bad an end after all. As for that scumbag, my rage clearly wasn't just about what happened last night and its time for me to let go. And today's the time I will. But the night showed me that despite how much people may change, their core remains the same. Good luck to finding out.
Monday, August 13, 2007
342 Minutes (The Father Says Its Time)
I knew that I had gone to see a
Little bit of the world
To bring some joy and happiness
To a special little girl
That was all the time I had
Before my job was done
I came into this world
As your dearest firstborn son
I’m sorry that I couldn’t stay with you that night
For my father called me home now
And I’m right by his side
You held me in your arms
And you made everything alright
Please Ma don’t you cry
I’ll see you when the father says its time
This is how its meant to be
Ma please oh please let it be
I’m grateful for the times you carried
Me around to see
The beauty in this world
Even if it was just for a while
Turn your tender face to mine
That was all that really mattered all the time
I’m sorry that I couldn’t stay with you that night
For my father called me home now
And I’m right by his side
You held me in your arms
And you made everything alright
Please Ma don’t you cry
I’ll see you when the father says its time
Ma don’t keep my memory before your eyes
For I’m stronger than I was when I succumbed that very night
Ma I know you’ll live while I am here like yesterday
I love you don’t you know, I’m afraid to hurt you if I stay.
I promise that you’ll always be our
Precious little boy
And you gave us in your own way
All your faith and subtle joy
Keep within our hearts what you tried to say
You will keep us safe, by the only father’s grace.
I held you in my arms and you made everything alright
Please son wait a while
We’ll see you the father says its time
Little bit of the world
To bring some joy and happiness
To a special little girl
That was all the time I had
Before my job was done
I came into this world
As your dearest firstborn son
I’m sorry that I couldn’t stay with you that night
For my father called me home now
And I’m right by his side
You held me in your arms
And you made everything alright
Please Ma don’t you cry
I’ll see you when the father says its time
This is how its meant to be
Ma please oh please let it be
I’m grateful for the times you carried
Me around to see
The beauty in this world
Even if it was just for a while
Turn your tender face to mine
That was all that really mattered all the time
I’m sorry that I couldn’t stay with you that night
For my father called me home now
And I’m right by his side
You held me in your arms
And you made everything alright
Please Ma don’t you cry
I’ll see you when the father says its time
Ma don’t keep my memory before your eyes
For I’m stronger than I was when I succumbed that very night
Ma I know you’ll live while I am here like yesterday
I love you don’t you know, I’m afraid to hurt you if I stay.
I promise that you’ll always be our
Precious little boy
And you gave us in your own way
All your faith and subtle joy
Keep within our hearts what you tried to say
You will keep us safe, by the only father’s grace.
I held you in my arms and you made everything alright
Please son wait a while
We’ll see you the father says its time
Tuesday, August 7, 2007
Sooner or Later...
So we've all been caught up with the question of what is true love. And for those who haven't, take it as a blessing or curse, whichever way you wish. Life's what you make of it anyway.
Now what exactly is true love? When you see a couple walking hand in hand along a beach with happy smiles on their faces, just like you saw them do 50 years ago, is that true love right before your eyes? Is it your mother, who is always complaining about how useless a man your father is but still irons his shirts every morning before giving him a sweet kiss goodbye (ahh, those few seconds of silence in the house), truly in love?
A quick glance through Friendster will show us hundreds of pictures of our friends with their partners. At the movies, at a restaurant, at the beach, in bed, on the plane, at his birthday party etc. There've been many times when I've been happy at seeing these photos, but a lot of the time, I just can't help but wonder how true their 'love' is. How long are they going to last? Sooner or later......
The fact is, no one knows what's going to happen sooner or later. So why bother about whether this love is true? Isn't it more important that more time is spent together, that more happy (as well as sad) memories are created within this time? We can never know if our love is true, but when its happening right in front of our eyes, it's got to be real.
*Apologies for the recent spate of soapy entries. This whole wishy-washy lamentation about love ends here.*
Now what exactly is true love? When you see a couple walking hand in hand along a beach with happy smiles on their faces, just like you saw them do 50 years ago, is that true love right before your eyes? Is it your mother, who is always complaining about how useless a man your father is but still irons his shirts every morning before giving him a sweet kiss goodbye (ahh, those few seconds of silence in the house), truly in love?
A quick glance through Friendster will show us hundreds of pictures of our friends with their partners. At the movies, at a restaurant, at the beach, in bed, on the plane, at his birthday party etc. There've been many times when I've been happy at seeing these photos, but a lot of the time, I just can't help but wonder how true their 'love' is. How long are they going to last? Sooner or later......
The fact is, no one knows what's going to happen sooner or later. So why bother about whether this love is true? Isn't it more important that more time is spent together, that more happy (as well as sad) memories are created within this time? We can never know if our love is true, but when its happening right in front of our eyes, it's got to be real.
*Apologies for the recent spate of soapy entries. This whole wishy-washy lamentation about love ends here.*
Wednesday, August 1, 2007
What Are You, Stupid.. Pt.II
When I flip through the recesses of my mind to find snippets of you, I see beyond your bedroom, beyond your physical person. I wonder if you saw beyond me too. Maybe I didn't let you.
When she was in my life, it was as if the world just stopped revolving. I had done everything my strength allowed me to do for her. But her presence was like a misplayed note of an unskilled pianist playing a classical masterpiece.
Before I met you, I never believed that anyone understood me better than myself. You were like the perfect stabilizer for my unsettled soul. But your presence was like a mistimed beat of a skilled percussionist.
She continues to occupy an important place in my heart. Someone I loved with my head in the clouds and eventually, hated. I'd be in the gutter if not for her absence but I can't help but wonder where I'd be if she never showed up in the first place.
You continue to be that person who knows me best; even when I didn't have my head in the clouds, you were a person I loved. Perhaps you'd never hear of it but I've always known that you would play a more important part in my life than anyone else. I am who I am today because you made me believe in what I am, not to resist it. No matter where you are, what you do or who you become, I wish I could be around to see you achieve great things.
A mis-played note; a mis-timed beat. Even the most experienced musician fears these two 'misses'. It would be stupid to argue which is a better mistake to make. Playing the right note a split second after the 'miss' is not an option. Neither is replaying a beat. But what he does when he makes them is to take the misses he has made, recognize where he is in the score, and then weave out the remainder of the piece beautifully. Only then can he be called a great musician.
*This post is dedicated to two important people in my life now who have made me understand, or at least think I understand, what I thought I never would. I have to thank one for her stupidity and the other for questioning the inherent stupidity of human beings.*
When she was in my life, it was as if the world just stopped revolving. I had done everything my strength allowed me to do for her. But her presence was like a misplayed note of an unskilled pianist playing a classical masterpiece.
Before I met you, I never believed that anyone understood me better than myself. You were like the perfect stabilizer for my unsettled soul. But your presence was like a mistimed beat of a skilled percussionist.
She continues to occupy an important place in my heart. Someone I loved with my head in the clouds and eventually, hated. I'd be in the gutter if not for her absence but I can't help but wonder where I'd be if she never showed up in the first place.
You continue to be that person who knows me best; even when I didn't have my head in the clouds, you were a person I loved. Perhaps you'd never hear of it but I've always known that you would play a more important part in my life than anyone else. I am who I am today because you made me believe in what I am, not to resist it. No matter where you are, what you do or who you become, I wish I could be around to see you achieve great things.
A mis-played note; a mis-timed beat. Even the most experienced musician fears these two 'misses'. It would be stupid to argue which is a better mistake to make. Playing the right note a split second after the 'miss' is not an option. Neither is replaying a beat. But what he does when he makes them is to take the misses he has made, recognize where he is in the score, and then weave out the remainder of the piece beautifully. Only then can he be called a great musician.
*This post is dedicated to two important people in my life now who have made me understand, or at least think I understand, what I thought I never would. I have to thank one for her stupidity and the other for questioning the inherent stupidity of human beings.*
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