Kindred Spirits

Sometimes you meet someone and it's electric.

And you know, beyond doubt, that the person is a kindred spirit.

Have you ever seen a meteor shower?

I have.

It was beautiful, breathtaking. The stars shining through the darkness, falling in the air. Hundreds of them, like light streaming through holes on the floors of heaven.

"Better despair than false hope".

They say to wish upon a falling star, but what do you wish for when what keeps you from making a wish is the knowing that it might just be that, a wish... that may never come true?

Dawn gave way to dusk. There were still stars in the sky...

Star light, star bright, would you rather burn out or would you rather fade away? Who's going to catch you when you fall? What's so great about you?

You're just fallen embers.

=====

I made a wish.

I wished someone would catch the falling stars.



Ps: I just watched Stardust on Saturday with Dod, Ronnie and Jerome, hee. Absolutely loved it.

Everything's gonna be allright

I'm so tired. So so tired.

But I can't sleep.

So here I am, at 6am, writing.

Writing has always been a personal thing to me. I write because its the only way I can analyse a situation, because at the end of the day, it comforts me, being able to confide in something, albeit just a piece of paper, knowing whatever I write will not be used against me. Because oftentimes, its raw emotions, jagged and unpolished, unfit for others to see.

Sometimes I'm afraid of reading the things that I write. Because it re-opens all the hurt, and I feel my heart bleeding all over again.

I've been really busy lately. Going out with friends because I'm prolly not going to see them in a long time. Meeting new friends along the way. Making space in my heart for these kindred spirits I meet along the way.

Sometimes I'm amazed at how these people enter my lives at moments when I need them the most, like guardian angels, holding my hands, and bearing a torch to light the way through long dark nights. Like messangers from heaven, telling me things that I need to hear, bringing up old hurts that I need to resolve.

I'm thankful for Doreen and Eesha... for being the amazing girlfriends that they are.

For Mike, for being such a wonderful big brother. To Ron and Jerome, for unknowingly bringing up something that I needed to come to terms with. For Jacob, whom I had heard such horrid stuff about, and who through hearsay also thought I was a horrible person, and teaching me never to listen to what others say until you've met the person.

Start. Stop. Delete.

These days I can't write.

I have everything, and nothing, to write about.

I write about things that make me happy, things that make me sad, things that irk me, things that dissappoint me. I start this long rant about it. Stop. And then press the delete button.

I find that I exercise more censorship on what I write about these days. I'm no longer one to bare my soul out for the world to see, nor leave my heart on my sleeve, exposed to all and sundry.

Perhaps this is wisdom.

I saw this quote, "There is no safety for honest men except by believing all possible evil of evil men" by Edmund Burke and it hit me how true it was. And how naive and idealistic my believe that people are essentially good.

Being able to make your voice heard, even to a small group, gives you power. Power to influence, power to persuade, power to speak out. And with that power comes the responsibility to use it correctly.

Some people use it to defame and slander others. This is usually someone they used to care for, no less.

And it irks me when people do that. I think it's a really childish, immature thing to do, and it doesn't matter whether one writes wistfully about it, or vindictively, it's still, in my books, quite distasteful.

At the end of the day, everyone has their own versions of a story. There will always be a neverending tug of war between he-says/she-says. We all perceive things differently.

Recently I found out that someone I knew was writing mean, horrible things about me. Worst of all, they were untruths that if I wanted, I could've easily set right, shaming the person in the process. I was so angry... but curbed myself from action.

I woke up in the morning and thought again what I ought to do about it. Should I confront the person? Should I correct what s/he said?

Then I decided that it wasn't worth it. I'm not out to prove myself. I don't feel the need to prove myself. Because at the end of the day, it's enough for me that my friends know me, and the people who read that, and believed/formed opinions about me based on that, I really don't need in my life. The last thing I need is for judgemental people in my life.

Today I re-read that entry the person wrote about me. Objectively, not as me, but as if the subject was someone I didn't know.

I realised that the whole entry was more telling of the writer rather than about the subject. About how bitter the person it, and how the person really needs to settle his/her issues, and move on.

Curiousity prompted me to read more backdated entries. And the more I read, the more I realised that the person wasn't who I thought s/he was.

I want to say that I was dissapointed, but I then realised that I didn't care at all.

Of friends and scumbags

I've recently met Jacob, whom I've heard some pretty bad things about (and vice versa) and I'm surprised that we got on so well.

I can't believe I thought he was such a horrid person based on what one person whose opinions I had respected once upon a time. And guess what? He also heard bad stuff about me coming from the same person.

I'm utterly disgusted.

But ah well, we decided it's not worth bringing this up with the person, because at the end of the day, we've actually found out the truth about how two-faced the person can be. Apparently people who's worked with him has found out what he's really like, and no one really likes him either, they just put up with his because they don't want to be targeted by him.

In the end, we just felt sorry that he had to buy acceptance from people.

And left it as that.

It just wasn't worth the effort.

moving Petronas ad

I was just browsing on YouTube when I saw this ad.

I was in tears by the end of it. It was *that* powerful. Watch it for yourself.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a7l6pll2NiE&NR=1

The coldness within

It sometimes scares me just how cold I can be.

How I can just cut someone completely out of my life.

No excuses, to apologies, no reasons.

Just complete... nothingness.

Truth be told, I've tried. Very hard. But there comes a time when enough is enough. There's only so many times you can say you're sorry. There's only so many chances that I can give you. I've tried to be your friend, defended you when others talked bad about you. And if you can't recognise that then... well, what does it matter? Friendships are about give and take. And if all you know how to do is take, take and take, then hey guess what, I have nothing left to give.

I'm pruning my life for my own sake and for those I really care about.

I'm shedding the dead weight so that I can invest in the people who really matter to me now.

And I'm not sorry.

Identity crisis

Met up with Jayson in Bangsar yesterday and caught up with gossip and London news. J's contemplating coming back after 10 odd years being there. Ijun... well Ijun, I heard from the grapevine, is coming back here for good in a week's time.

Sigh, and here I am, applying for my settlement visa, going to go over there to start a new life with my fiance.

I've been avoiding thinking about the issue of settling over there with a whirlwind of activities and get-togethers with friends lately. I don't want to think about it. But I realise that eventually, I have to face up to the fact that well, I'll be taking on a whole new identity.

I'm giving up my name. Proximity to my family, my friends. I am giving up my nationality.

I can't imagine not being Malaysian.

Oh, of course I have my gripes about how the country is run, I worry about where it seems to be heading to. I hate how unscrupulous our politicians are, how everyone is so apathetic about everything. I'm saddened by our mentality. I'm appalled by our blatant flouting of human rights. I'm scared for my own safety everytime I walk back home from the cybercafe near the Kerinchi station at night (my laptop officially died). Since I've came back, I've been mugged, molested and verbally abused while going about my own business around town.

But despite all that, I still love Malaysia. It's still my 'tanah-tumpah-darahku'. It's where I'm born, the country where I grew up in. I was raised to be a Malaysian. Socialised into it, taught into being a good one by our education system. I even know the Rukunegara by heart.

What if there's a war between Malaysia and England. Whose side would I pick? On one hand I would been a citizen of the United Kingdom, on another, well, Malaysia.. well, like I said, tanah tumpah darahku. I've been raised to think of Malaysia as my country, that I'd fight for her to the death, and now, suddenly having to change loyalties... i still can't get my head around it.

But then again I am thinking too much. Touch wood, I would never be in a position where I would have to choose.

I'm changing my name from Vysia to Renee. Renee Duffield. Relatively anonymous compared to my current name. No one can ever do a google search on me now and get precisely who I am. It's as if the slate's been wiped clean and I've been given a second chance in life. Not even that. As if I've reformatted my life and there'd be no trace whatsoever of what once was. I know I only have to change my last name when I get married, but well... I don't feel like my first name anymore.

I don't tell people this, but my name is actually a coinage from the phase 'Vision for Malaysia'. My being Malaysian is central to my whole identity. My father came up with it, hoping that I would epitomise what our then young country was heading towards. 10 years later, Vision 2020 came along, clarifying it further. Great expectations? I know all about it.

And I know I've fallen short. I am painfully aware of that. That I'm not what I am supposed to be. I want to do so much, but I guess, I've forfeited that. I'll never be a trailblazer, a freedom fighter, a social activist, an advocate for causes. Do I even want to be all that? No. I'm even rethinking my wish for a life less ordinary.

Because being ordinary is good. I don't want to be a hot shot. I don't want to be a somebody. I just want to blend in the masses. Be invisible. Be normal. I really want to be normal.

But I've never been normal. Normal in the way that I'm forgettable. Almost everyone I meet remembers me. If not because of my name, its because I somehow managed to get into all sorts of trouble, even if my intentions were good. I somehow always stood out.

I guess in a way, my name has served me. Because I never found keychains with my name and characteristics, I had to find out for myself what I was really like. I was never put into a box that said, 'Mary - kind sweet pure etc'. It offered me the freedom to be less conventional and more experimental. And fitting in.. I never worried about fitting in. I was happy with myself, doing the things I wanted to do.

And now Renee... it means re-born. I had originally thought that if I had a daughter, I'd name her that. Because it's a beautiful name. Because it would mean that she'd be like a phoenix thats been resurrected from the ashes, renewed and reborn. And in a way, I do feel like I'm being reborn into something else. A new phase of my life, I guess.

This is the part where I give it all up. There's no having it all. You pick and choose, you prioritise. Don't I want to do all the things I talked about? Throw a dart on the world map and go where it lands? Join the UN Peace Corps? Take a year off just helping the childen in Peru? Learn Esperanto (look it up)? Of course I do.

But at the end of the day, all my dreams of adventure are just a symptom of the fact that I'm not grounded. I was restless because I never stayed anywhere long enough to really take root. Growing up, I was always moving from one place to another... Kelantan, KL, Melacca, Penang, Kuala Kangsar and finally, Taiping. And I've finally realised what I'm looking for is some sort of stability. Security, if you must.

Will grounds me. I'm content when I'm with him. Whatever dreams I had about discovering places thats never been discovered before and always wanting to know whats around the river bend just melts away whenever I'm in his arms and I could just happily stay there forever. I don't feel that I need to do anything, be anything. When I'm with him, I just am.

I guess thats all that matters to me. Because at the end of the day, the prospect of a house in the suburbs, living happily ever after with my husband and possibly a cat named Booty and a dog named Kooky actually does rock my boat. I look forward to it. Of course I still have dreams. But I dream different dreams now, dreams that can be shared with him. Like having a house by a lake and going camping in our own backyard. Like setting up businesses together, a little restaurant with a bakery. I really am buying into the 'American dream', aren't I?

And I guess thats where I have to shed my old name for Renee. Vysia as a name is too intriguing, too uncommon, too conspicious. It elicits too much attention, people always do a double take at it, treat it warily, not knowing what to expect. Well, Renee will never be treated like that, they'd never have to wonder how to pronouce it, and quite quickly sum you up and leave you be to go your own way. Renee is more... 'in and of the world'.

You think; what's in a name, its just a synonym for me, right? But it's not.

It influences how people see you. How they treat you. It's your calling card before you even arrive.

Anyway, why am I thinking about all this when I've been trying to avoid it?

Because after meeting with Jason, I met up with Petra for updates, girl talk and gossip at Delicious and then we adjourned to Attic where we also met up with another friend of mine. I had a cosmopolitan and a La Dolce Vita. And thanks to that, I now have horribly painful, itchy hives around my chest, neck, and shoulders. So I'm hiding out at the cybercafe hoping that no one at my hostel catches me at it. And now that it's almost 3am, I'm too afraid to walk back home on my own, so I'll wait out here till morning when the guard lets me in. Huhuhuuuu...