the beautiful disaster that was you

It’s been exactly a year since I officially broke up.

Living life to the fullest

Because at the end of the day you only have yourself to live for. 

Saturday was an amazing day. The day was destined to be a day of spontaneity, it being a last minute decision to meet anyway.

Breakfast at Prive Bakery Cafe, absolutely gorgeous eggs Benedict, lovely view, and fantastic chats.

Then it was off to work at NACLI for a presentation which I flunked cos I was surprised into nervousness by so many attentive eyes.

Back to Vivocity area where we had dinner at Superdog. Yumms.

Shopping where I glanced at a toddler who immediately perked up and enthusiastically waved and said a big hello to me. *heart melts

Bought tickets for Blood because everything else was full. More shopping.

Random find of CHEAP discounted wine!!! Bought 3 sweet wines and got them to chill another one.

Ran around enthusiastically waiting for the wine to chill and bought $1 wineglasses.

Drank by the beach.

Entered cinema slightly drunk and bored by the movie.

Walked out and on the spur of the moment caught Ghost of Girlfriends Past.

FANTASTIC SPONTANEOUS AND RANDOM WEEKEND.

I love you, dearest uncle.

Today’s post is a queer mix of death and love.

The recent death of a beloved uncle has struck the family rather hard. This, being my first death of a loved one, is quite a lot for me to bear.

I always thought that I was quite a cold indifferent person, almost inhuman, after all, I’ve never cried at funerals before, what did they matter to me? I was made of logic, if the person died, he wouldn’t want his loved ones to grieve, so why do people grieve? If I had to choose between exams and seeing someone for the last time, I would choose my exams, because the person wouldn’t want me to ruin my future when he/she has lived a full life already.

Perhaps, I was just afraid of death.  And I’d totally shut it out of my mind. 

So that fateful morning, I overheard my mom asking, over the phone, 10% only? I knew something was wrong. I thought it was my grandpa, who’s been ill for a bit, and started to regret never being around much whenever he was in Singapore. I was afraid. I asked my dad, what’s that about? And he says it’s your uncle, his intestines burst. What’s this 10%? 10% for the surgery.

So I went to the office, feeling pretty ok. Then it struck me, does 10% mean that he’ll only have 10% chance of surviving? What does 10% mean? I started crying non stop. I didn’t really understand why I felt so scared and worried.

When I got home from work, I asked my mom what does that mean? What’s the latest update? 50% chance, he’s only got till Sunday. I couldn’t leave for Malaysia without my brother, and I really didn’t want him to go back on his own, so we decided to go back on Friday night.

The next morning, my mom went back to Malaysia, and my aunt called. I recall experiencing a huge sense of foreboding when I saw her name, but I decided that she was only calling to ask about mom. Then she said it. It took me a while to process it. I thought I’d heard it wrong – my chinese had always been weak - perhaps she meant that my uncle has been discharged. But it wasn’t. He’d passed away at 9.18am, Thursday, 28 May 2009. Perhaps I have an obsessive compulsive disorder, I’ve always remembered dates. I remember the dates I got together with my exs, the dates I broke up with them, the day I had my first kiss. I’m obsessed with details. I even remember what I wore on some of the occasions.

Two of my aunts called that day, both in tears and one was hysterical. I couldn’t react for very long, refusing to go home, wanting to continue to work. I couldn’t even call my brother or my father. Crying whilst I stared at my computer screen, trying to work, ignoring my colleague’s pleas for me to go home. Then cold logic finally kicked in, demanding that I inform everybody and arranged the travelling processes back to Malaysia for my 2 aunts, 2 cousins, 1 uncle in law and my brother. That was easy. That was what I do best. Besides, nobody else seemed able to cope.

I fall asleep automatically once I travel, it doesn’t matter if I’ve slept enough before, I just doze off immediately.

But that was a good rest because we had no time for a long wake, the body was placed at this temple-like place for only one night and we started folding the hell notes like crazy, so I didn’t really sleep for the night. It was a night I never wanted to end because I didn’t want to face the reality of my uncle being cremated the next morning. Oh the cousins laughed and bonded whilst folding the notes into inggots for my uncle, but it was just to cover the sadness deep within our hearts. Unlike the few wakes I’ve been to, where I didn’t dare look into the coffin, I wanted to look at my uncle’s face a couple more times. It broke my heart to see his mouth area slightly deflated due to the oxygen nose piece, it reminded me of the pain he went through. How he died alone in the hospital. How we couldn’t tell grandpa because we’re not certain grandpa’s heart can handle it, how grandpa still doesn’t know his son is dead.

The morning finally came, the rites were quick, but painful, round the coffin we went thrice, careful not to spill tears on it. Kneeling and praying three times, a set at the coffin, another at the site where we burnt him a house, a car and some company.

But, to me, the most painful rite was in the van bearing the coffin to the crematorium. Every time we crossed a bridge, and god knows how many bridges there are in Malaysia, we had to yell, second uncle, cross the bridge. We were sending him on his last journey. Each yell drove the truth closer and closer to home, each yell, broke my heart just a little more. I don’t know how I could have fallen asleep a little of the way, but i was glad my brother woke me up.

Then it was at the crematorium, where we saw him hurriedly pushed through the little gate. A small click. That was the end.

That hurt.

I never got a chance to have long conversations with him. I was never home when he called. I always thought I had more time. I never shared with him my life, I never heard about his experiences. I want to tell him about the men who made me happy, and broke my heart, because I know that’s what he’d want to hear. He was so happy the last time I visited, a year plus back, and wanted to meet my then boyfriend.

He always had a smile on his face and so much cheer and laughter for us. He was never married, but treated us like his kids. I remember always looking forward to his visits when I was a kid because he’d always bring me to the neighbourhood toy shop to pick out a toy together. I remember him telling me that I can sing well but I needed more confidence. I remember him bringing me and my brother out to the wild to take a look. Though I’m not his favourite niece, but I know he loved me and was so proud of me. In his room, he had a picture of the four of us cousins, 4 pictures of his favourite niece, but there was a picture of me, that he liked, that he thought I looked really pretty in. And he also hung up my graduation picture.

Dearest Uncle, I wish I could have had so much more time with you. But I know you were in so much pain and it was a relief for you, please go in peace and know that we love you so much. I wish you knew that I aways thought you were the coolest uncle and that I’m so sorry that I didn’t cherish you.

time vs love

Much to my amusement, there were some eagles amidst the vultures, or were they eagles all along? Instead of feasting on the.. issue, they’ve descended on me instead. I was pretty surprised, since I honestly have no part in the issue at all. But oh well, I should be used to the whole gossip scene by now eh? But seriously, it was so way off truth that it took me offguard totally. Somehow I have a knack of getting kicked in the ass by gossips, I think I must have been really evil in my past life. I DESERVE THIS. i mean it. i really believe that i did something in my past life to always be the target board for stuff like this.

Mothers’ Day

i came back yesterday with a bleeding heel and an aching back

i woke up this morning with plasters on my table and ointment applied on my back.

I love my mom.

Vultures

Some people are vultures by nature. Like a vulture they leave you alone when you’re full of love, life and laughter. Yet at the first inklings of any woe and unrest, they descend, circling, sticking their nosy cruel beaks to try and find out more. Do not mistake these vultures’ intentions as care and concern for a friend in need - whilst these parasites of death may not deal the fatal death blow, their sole interest lies in feeding on you.

Vultures regurgitate acid when attacked, just like human vultures, their acid in the form of malicious gossip. This undesirable trait renders both human and bird vultures rather free of predators, so don’t expect karma to bite them cos they probably don’t taste good enough.

Dejavu in Taiwan

It’s strangely a dejavu moment. Me, packing at the last moment. Me going to Taiwan. Me still awake at this hour. Oh no wait. It did happen. Last year. Only that I was in tears and constantly thinking abt the ex.

No more. Barring the illness, let Taiwan be a good trip this year! huat ah!

Tho I must say I’m quite sick, pmsing and emoing. Don’t ask why. I won’t stop.

Huat ah!

And my heart, it ain’t getting younger.

If you wanna steal my heart, steal it like you mean it.

I’ve fallen in love with so many artists in these couple of days. It feels like I’ve deprived myself of music for the past year and it’s come gushing back. I am your prodigal child of music.

To rattle off, here’s a couple.

The Script – The Man Who Can’t Be Moved

Mocca – Secret Admirer and The Best Thing

Marit Larsen – I’ve Heard Your Love Songs and Steal My Heart (She’s once part of M2M… Now croon with me, don’t say you love me, you don’t even know me, if you really want me… )

mondays are great days to experience inertia to work.

especially when the boss isn’t around and the mice are out to play.

star struck

i am frustrated. i honestly do not like the dating game. not in the slightest bit. in fact, i think i’m one of those women who’d do well in the prehistoric times. like i like you bam, drags you into my cave.