Thursday, November 18, 2004
Things I've Learnt...
1. I need to get slapped a couple of times - real hard ones - before I eventually will get some senses knocked into me. Because no one has ever attempted that before - or maybe I haven't attempted to let them attempt, hence I think I really need some good hard slapping now and then to get some senses into me.
2. That our life is like a tree (Thanks Angela!)
- we ought to grow upwards all the time, aiming for the skies, and always sprouting new leaves and branches. A relationship should make us grow too, meaning that we never ought to be stuck in one that halts or stunt our growth - never get caught in a dead branch which is just waiting to rot and fall to the ground.
3. At 23, I still don't know what I want - but, I sure damn well know what I don't want. Do people learn and discover themselves by the same elimination process I go through?
4. I get scared by new things, and fear holds me back. (Thanks Jaclyn!)
It's like the theory of the glass. We are so afraid of breaking the glass that we hold on to it tight with both hands and focus all our strength and attention in making sure we don't drop the glass and break it. In doing that, we miss out on what's going on around us.
5. That I'm a kick-ass girl and guys who know me will love me and find me special *lol*.. and hell, I deserve much more than a bad-ass dude who's bringing me nothing but misery. (Thanks Resh!)
6. Chemistry does
exist. You can be totally comfortable with someone new even though you've barely known each other for a mere few weeks.
7. And not all Singaporeans are bad asses.
Posted by Doreen at 1:57 pm
Tuesday, November 09, 2004
The days have been rather good to me. Well, maybe the dude upstairs is himself busy preparing for all the year end festivities and parties.. Well, anyhow, it's all good.
It's time again for all the booze and merry-making.. And time for those avid New Year resolution makers to start coming up with their list, some of which they keep to, and some of which they forgo.
I have not made a resolution in many, many years. As a girl in my younger days, I made them and really did try fulfilling it.. albeit the novelty of it wore off some time in March or April. But this year, turning 24, I'm going to try and set up some goals to achieve. Let's not call it a resolution shall we? Calling it a resolution places more expectation on myself. Let's call it Doreen's Goals of 2005.
Why the sudden need to make goals? In simple terms, I need to straighten my life out a little. I groan in displeasure as I see the HUGE numbers 2 and 4 running towards me. It's scary. We're all getting older. And boy, no insult to any of you older folks out there, but I really do FEEL old. No, I'm not just saying it to make myself sound matured.. But damn, I feel it in my bones, my mind and my body.
At what age do we feel a need to show
the world that we've got something to our name? If there is no certain or specific age, what then is the normal age whereby people go through this? I certainly think this age is getting younger and younger as the years go by. Maybe people used to reassess themselves when they are nearing 30. But of course, nowadays, this phenomenon is evident in our younger mid-20s population. Heck, they even have quarter life crisis in today's world!
As I was talking to a friend late last night.. It dawned upon me that hey, my worries as a 20 something year old is nothing compared to what he was going through. OK, maybe we shan't call it worries - how about responsibilities? There, that's a better word.
Of course, my sis told me then, that there ARE people who are caught in situations and circumstances where they aren't really happy about at all, and hey, they can't change no shit. Most of the time, these people try to live with it and take and find joy in other aspects of things.
And no, don't come and tell me that everything is in our hands and that we have the power to change our destinies and direction in our own lives.. cos damn, we don't!
That dude up there really knows how to challenge us huh? It's always about compromising isn't it? We aren't able to have the cake and eat it as well. True, I've heard this umpteen times, but I've always had this "heck care" attitude towards it - but damn, I don't know why this time round, it's affecting me quite a bit.
I don't wanna be weathered and withered with worries.. I still want to be me - carefree and happy - but how is one supposed to be this when as you grow older, you are exposed to more and more unhappy things?
Posted by Doreen at 3:17 pm
Wednesday, November 03, 2004
One of my all-time favourites - Why I Write
by Terry Williams
It is just after 4:00 A.M. I was dreaming about Moab, Brooke and I walking around the block just before dawn. I threw a red silk scarf around my shoulders and then I began reciting in my sleep why I write:
I write to make peace with the things I cannot control. I write to create fabric in a world that often appears black and white. I write to discover. I write to uncover. I write to meet my ghosts. I write to begin a dialogue. I write to imagine things differently and in imagining things differently perhaps the world will change. I write to honor beauty. I write to correspond with my friends. I write as a daily act of improvisation. I write because it creates my composure. I write against my power and for democracy. I write myself out of my nightmares and into my dreams. I write in a solitude born out of community. I write to the questions that shatter my sleep. I write to the answers that keep me complacent. I write to remember. I write to forget. I write to the music that opens up my heart. I write to quell the pain. I write to migrating birds with the hubris of language. I write as a form of translation. I write with the patience of a melancholy in winter. I write because it allows me to confront that which I do not know. I write as an act of faith. I write as an act of slowness. I write to record what I love in the face of loss. I write because it makes me less fearful of death. I write as an exercise in pure joy. I write as one who walks on the surface of a frozen river beginning to melt. I write out of my anger and into my passion. I write from the stillness of night anticipating – always anticipating. I write to listen. I write out of silence. I write to soothe the voices shouting inside me, outside me, all around. I write because of the humor of our condition as humans. I write because I believe in words. I write because I do not believe in words. I write because it is a dance with paradox. I write because you can play on the page like a child left alone in the sand. I write because it belongs to the force of the moon: high tide, low tide. I write because it is the way I take long walks. I write as a bow to wilderness. I write because I believe it can create a path in darkness. I write because as a child I spoke a different language. I write with a knife carving each word through the generosity of trees. I write as ritual. I write because I am not employable. I write out of my own inconsistencies. I write because then I do not have to speak. I write with the colors of memory. I write as a witness to what I have seen. I write as a witness to what I imagine. I write by grace and grit. I write out of indigestion. I write when I am starving. I write when I am full. I write on the other side of procrastination. I write for the children we never had. I write for the love of ideas. I write for the surprise of a sentence. I write with the belief of alchemists. I write knowing I will always fail. I write knowing words always fall short. I write knowing I can be killed by my own words, stabbed by syntax, crucified by both understanding and misunderstanding. I write out of ignorance. I write by accident. I write past the embarrassment of exposure. I keep writing and suddenly, I am overcome by the sheer indulgence, (the madness), the meaninglessness, the ridiculousness of this list. I trust nothing especially myself and slide head first into the familiar abyss of doubt and humiliation and threaten to push the delete button on my way down, or madly erase each line, pick up the paper and rip it into shreds – and then I realize, it doesn't matter, words are always a gamble, words are splinters from cut glass. I write because it is dangerous, a bloody risk, like love, to form the words, to say the words, to touch the source, to be touched, to reveal how vulnerable we are, how transient.
I write as though I am whispering in the ear of the one I love.
Posted by Doreen at 9:28 am
Monday, November 01, 2004
I sit and stare at the blank page, not knowing how to start writing. I then unwrap a piece of chocolate and begin to nibble. Yum. I don't always have chocolate cravings... thank God! But when it does strike, phwoar... Help me stop!
Today is the beginning of November. In another 60 days, we will be ushering in yet another brand new year. And we'll all be another year older. It's OK if you're waiting to turn 16, or 18, or even 21. But once the novelty of all those ages wear off, you begin to dread the years that follow.
As you grow older, people expect you to be able to commit to certain responsibility. And if you're like me, carefree and think the world a beautiful and wondrous place, then damn, you've got a big problem... like me.
I've been told that I'm mature for my age... But of late, I've begun reassessing things again. I found out that everyone's been wrong about me. I'm really not as matured as you think I am. I may be 20 something, I may look old for my age too, but sigh, I don't think my emotional and mental age is quite there yet. Maybe mental yes - cos I know that I need to do certain things. But emotionally, I'm not ready to commit, not yet ready to accept these things.
I made a promise to Dad I'll try resolve some of my financial issues by January or February next year. It's tough, but I've got to at least try to work towards it. Maybe a slight change in lifestyle.. maybe need to get used to not going out every goddamned weekend...
On Saturday, I cried when I spoke to Dad over the phone. My Dad's the coolest! I mean, how many dads do you know of who would give you a loan and say, "But don't tell your mom about it... you pay me back when you can.."
He was my childhood hero, and he will forever be my hero!
Daddy really tries so hard to help us - emotionally, mentally, academically, spiritually and even after I've started working - financially too. At 55, he isn't afraid to admit that he can't do certain things and will seek our help. He has learnt how to open a Hotmail account, how to chat on Yahoo and MSN, how to do a powerpoint presentation, all that and more! He appreciates our Eminem, TLC, Britney, Jennifer Lopez and more!
And with us 4 growing girls in the house, one can only think about the sort of pressure he's under. With no sons to talk of guns, war, cars, soccer and all that, he listens to us talk about make-up, fashion, bra sizes, boys, menstruation, etc.
When he smacks us, he smacks us really hard. I used to remember how painful his leather belt felt on our buttocks and thighs. I also remember how he then came and sayang
us after the beatings and will apply medication for us to ease the bruise. When we failed an examination, and if he knows mom will be upset, he'll help us hide it from mom and then advice us on his own. He'll give us extra pocket money if we don't get enough from mom or if we need to buy a really expensive stuff, and tells us that he will keep it from mom.
When we all grow up and get married, he'll be there giving us away at the aisle. The Father of the Bride. He'll then come home with mom to an empty house.
For the past few days, his words kept ringing in my head, "I trust you - you're a big girl now, I know you won't disappoint me. Must plan well my dear..."
After hearing all these, and of course, the coupla hundred bucks he gave me on loan, how can you not try harder right? So there, I'm looking forward to 2005, by then, financially, I would have been on the right track : )
Thanks, Dad! Love you so much!
Posted by Doreen at 4:27 pm