I Am...
... not your maid.
... not your secretary.
... not your mother.
... not your social escort.
I have feelings.
I am not a machine.
I understand that you need to work, but that is not an excuse to treat me like the above.
I have talked to you about this before. Many times.
Guess why I feel the need to blog about it again?
Friday, December 25, 2009
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Fucking Irritating
I abhor the expression "harrrrrrrrr........" people give when you tell someone to do something.
You know, that whiney sound you make when someone tells you to eat a pound of shit.
If I can get super mad at primary 2 kids for "harrrrrrrr...."-ing when I tell them to do their work, I can get even madder when a full-grown adult does so. I mean, how childish are you?
It is not an expression or anger or sadness, it does not help you think better. All it does is buy you that 5 long-assed seconds you spent "harrrrrrrr..."-ing and tells the person that you don't want to do it. Then what do you want that person to do? Do every single little thing for you?
Well, fuck you.
Do you think by "harrrrrrrrr...."-ing the god-damned thing that you're so terrified of will go away by itself? That class work and homework will automatically disappear? That ingredients for a recipe we're supposed to prepare for today's mini-party will automatically fly to my house by themselves? That the food will cook itself?
Oh just GROW UP!
I abhor the expression "harrrrrrrrr........" people give when you tell someone to do something.
You know, that whiney sound you make when someone tells you to eat a pound of shit.
If I can get super mad at primary 2 kids for "harrrrrrrr...."-ing when I tell them to do their work, I can get even madder when a full-grown adult does so. I mean, how childish are you?
It is not an expression or anger or sadness, it does not help you think better. All it does is buy you that 5 long-assed seconds you spent "harrrrrrrr..."-ing and tells the person that you don't want to do it. Then what do you want that person to do? Do every single little thing for you?
Well, fuck you.
Do you think by "harrrrrrrrr...."-ing the god-damned thing that you're so terrified of will go away by itself? That class work and homework will automatically disappear? That ingredients for a recipe we're supposed to prepare for today's mini-party will automatically fly to my house by themselves? That the food will cook itself?
Oh just GROW UP!
Friday, December 18, 2009
All You Sons Of Bitches
I repeat - ALL you sons of bitches.
Go fuck yourselves.
I give, and give, and fucking give. I don't even know how to live for myself anymore, I've been living my life for all you sons of bitches all my life. And all you do is take, and take, and fucking take.
If I am dead inside, I wouldn't feel so. I wouldn't have the fiery pit within me envelop my whole being every time I am stepped upon.
I am angry. I am more than angry. I am murderous. I feel homicidal everytime you sons of bitches crush me under your feet for the sheer pleasure of it. I feel like holding a slugger in my hands and feeling the crack of your skull as I devour the pleasure it gives.
But I don't look so.
In the name of reason and normality I take it. I take it up the ass for you sons of bitches. I tolerate whatever shit you throw my way, simply for the fact that you might deserve another chance.
Might.
Listen up, all you sons of bitches. Listen good. Here's an example of why you shouldn't step on my tail too much.
There is only so much I can take. Not that it pleases me to tolerate. I boil over with anger and hurt every time someone steps on me, but for fucking peace's sake, I take it when you get up in my ass.
No seriously. Not anymore.
I'm not only going to stop being Little Miss Nice, I am going to be downright nasty when you step on my tail.
Don't say you've not been warned.
I repeat - ALL you sons of bitches.
Go fuck yourselves.
I give, and give, and fucking give. I don't even know how to live for myself anymore, I've been living my life for all you sons of bitches all my life. And all you do is take, and take, and fucking take.
If I am dead inside, I wouldn't feel so. I wouldn't have the fiery pit within me envelop my whole being every time I am stepped upon.
I am angry. I am more than angry. I am murderous. I feel homicidal everytime you sons of bitches crush me under your feet for the sheer pleasure of it. I feel like holding a slugger in my hands and feeling the crack of your skull as I devour the pleasure it gives.
But I don't look so.
In the name of reason and normality I take it. I take it up the ass for you sons of bitches. I tolerate whatever shit you throw my way, simply for the fact that you might deserve another chance.
Might.
Listen up, all you sons of bitches. Listen good. Here's an example of why you shouldn't step on my tail too much.
There is only so much I can take. Not that it pleases me to tolerate. I boil over with anger and hurt every time someone steps on me, but for fucking peace's sake, I take it when you get up in my ass.
No seriously. Not anymore.
I'm not only going to stop being Little Miss Nice, I am going to be downright nasty when you step on my tail.
Don't say you've not been warned.
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Holy Shit Holy Shit Holy Shit
So I stayed up late one night watching TV after Lazy fell asleep playing with his PS3. At around 4am (yes, there is a 4am) some Korean show came on, about some tutor and some rebellious rich kid who stayed back 2 grades.
I don't usually watch Korean or Japanese films (unless its in the horror genre), but I was bored and too lazy to reach for the remote, so I ended up watching the whole show.
By the end of the show, I was swooning over the guy.
I.. kind of forgot what his name is. But HOLY SHIT is he HOT!
What the hell have I been missing?! How many more hunks speaking in different languages are there out there?
Hot damn, I want a piece of this! And his face is super cute too.
*drools*
So I stayed up late one night watching TV after Lazy fell asleep playing with his PS3. At around 4am (yes, there is a 4am) some Korean show came on, about some tutor and some rebellious rich kid who stayed back 2 grades.
I don't usually watch Korean or Japanese films (unless its in the horror genre), but I was bored and too lazy to reach for the remote, so I ended up watching the whole show.
By the end of the show, I was swooning over the guy.
I.. kind of forgot what his name is. But HOLY SHIT is he HOT!
What the hell have I been missing?! How many more hunks speaking in different languages are there out there?
Hot damn, I want a piece of this! And his face is super cute too.
*drools*
Monday, November 30, 2009
Recommended Movie Of The Month
Since it is my off day today, I spent the day lazing around in bed watching TV. Wasn't feeling well at all too, my head feels like it's about to explode.
Anyway, I caught this movie on HBO Signature just now. I rarely give rave reviews for movies in the drama genre, but this one takes the bat. It's somewhere along the line of Johnny Depp's Neverland, with all its sensational artistic glory, but better.
Robin William's What Dreams May Come.
It's about a pediatric neurologist who, on the night of his "DD" anniversary, got hit by a out-of-control car while stopping to help a car crash victim on his way home.
The story revolves his life after death, and how he went to lengths to get his wife back from "hell" after he found out that she committed suicide not long after his death.
The show portrays a heaven that he created with his wife in their art, where everything is made of paint, and things happen appear when you will them to. Their dream home, which he painted when he was alive for his wife, appears across the lake too. And best of all, Katy, their dalmation puppy who got sick and died years ago, comes bounding back at him when he wakes up in a field of painted poseys.
Everybody can choose to take on forms and faces other than their own. In a timeless place like "heaven", there is no rank or stature, nobody's older than the other. In the same line, both his kids who died years ago in a car accident, appeared to him at different intervals with their own revelations.
*Shall stop here or I'll spoil the show for you.*
This is the only movie so far, of all time, that got me sobbing like a child. I had literally soaked my pillow and blanket by the end of the show.
I guess it deals with my biggest fear - losing the people I love. I'm not afraid of death myself, but I'm terrified at the prospect of losing the people that I live for. I know that it's going to happen sooner or later, and I live in fear of when that day comes.
Watch this show if you have HBO signature, people. If not, rent it from your friendly neighbourhood rental shops (assuming they have this work of art), or dang! Buy it from HMV! Get the DVD if they have, this is too good to view in blur.
Since it is my off day today, I spent the day lazing around in bed watching TV. Wasn't feeling well at all too, my head feels like it's about to explode.
Anyway, I caught this movie on HBO Signature just now. I rarely give rave reviews for movies in the drama genre, but this one takes the bat. It's somewhere along the line of Johnny Depp's Neverland, with all its sensational artistic glory, but better.
Robin William's What Dreams May Come.
It's about a pediatric neurologist who, on the night of his "DD" anniversary, got hit by a out-of-control car while stopping to help a car crash victim on his way home.
The story revolves his life after death, and how he went to lengths to get his wife back from "hell" after he found out that she committed suicide not long after his death.
The show portrays a heaven that he created with his wife in their art, where everything is made of paint, and things happen appear when you will them to. Their dream home, which he painted when he was alive for his wife, appears across the lake too. And best of all, Katy, their dalmation puppy who got sick and died years ago, comes bounding back at him when he wakes up in a field of painted poseys.
Everybody can choose to take on forms and faces other than their own. In a timeless place like "heaven", there is no rank or stature, nobody's older than the other. In the same line, both his kids who died years ago in a car accident, appeared to him at different intervals with their own revelations.
*Shall stop here or I'll spoil the show for you.*
This is the only movie so far, of all time, that got me sobbing like a child. I had literally soaked my pillow and blanket by the end of the show.
I guess it deals with my biggest fear - losing the people I love. I'm not afraid of death myself, but I'm terrified at the prospect of losing the people that I live for. I know that it's going to happen sooner or later, and I live in fear of when that day comes.
Watch this show if you have HBO signature, people. If not, rent it from your friendly neighbourhood rental shops (assuming they have this work of art), or dang! Buy it from HMV! Get the DVD if they have, this is too good to view in blur.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
People Like Me Don't Run From People Like You
I just heard something that made my day.
TKN just told me that a little bird told her that at the height of our animosity, you read my blog posts fervently, all the time.
The little bird also divulged that it was you who left those nasty, nasty comments and blamed it on her.
So during that period of time when I felt most alone, I was never alone. You were there in spirit with me, devouring my every word with relish (laced with hatred, but still mostly relish). In a sense, you understood more about me than anyone else caught in that situation did. You paid more attention to me in that situation than anyone else did.
How ironic. And creepy.
I just heard something that made my day.
TKN just told me that a little bird told her that at the height of our animosity, you read my blog posts fervently, all the time.
The little bird also divulged that it was you who left those nasty, nasty comments and blamed it on her.
So during that period of time when I felt most alone, I was never alone. You were there in spirit with me, devouring my every word with relish (laced with hatred, but still mostly relish). In a sense, you understood more about me than anyone else caught in that situation did. You paid more attention to me in that situation than anyone else did.
How ironic. And creepy.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Sunday, November 08, 2009
Sucks To Be Me
... for the past few months.
I had a mini meltdown in front of the Lazy last night. Threw my bag on the floor and couldn't stop crying. Couldn't take it anymore.
Everything I do, everything I lay my hands on, turns to shit. Everything around me, associated with me, turns to shit. I thought it was just a rough patch that'd be over in a while, but I was wrong.
So wrong.
I'm blessed to have a wonderful family, but it serves to remind me of what a failure I've become. I've tried to grit my teeth and bear with it in a rational and reasonable way. I've tried to be mature and independant as much as I can.
I'm sick of doing all those and getting shit back.
I don't want to be the adult anymore who helps you to find solutions to problems all you sons of bitches are too lazy to use your brain to solve. I don't want to be the mediator anymore. I don't want to be responsible anymore for things that aren't under my jurisdiction. I don't want to be rational and understanding anymore.
I'm at the point where the tiniest bit of flame you cause inside me is enough ammo for me to slap you, or at least stop talking to you for a long, long time.
Don't tempt me.
... for the past few months.
I had a mini meltdown in front of the Lazy last night. Threw my bag on the floor and couldn't stop crying. Couldn't take it anymore.
Everything I do, everything I lay my hands on, turns to shit. Everything around me, associated with me, turns to shit. I thought it was just a rough patch that'd be over in a while, but I was wrong.
So wrong.
I'm blessed to have a wonderful family, but it serves to remind me of what a failure I've become. I've tried to grit my teeth and bear with it in a rational and reasonable way. I've tried to be mature and independant as much as I can.
I'm sick of doing all those and getting shit back.
I don't want to be the adult anymore who helps you to find solutions to problems all you sons of bitches are too lazy to use your brain to solve. I don't want to be the mediator anymore. I don't want to be responsible anymore for things that aren't under my jurisdiction. I don't want to be rational and understanding anymore.
I'm at the point where the tiniest bit of flame you cause inside me is enough ammo for me to slap you, or at least stop talking to you for a long, long time.
Don't tempt me.
Wednesday, November 04, 2009
So Sad...
She stopped walking. "Daddy, I won't let you do this."
Her father, walking two paces ahead, stopped his slow strides. His shoulders slumped, but his grip on the rifle grew tighter. William sighed and turned to face his daughter. "Becka, Tigger is sick. Very sick. We're helping him."
Becka felt her brother's hand on her shoulder. Billy was ten and didn't care about Tigger. He wasn't crying at all, Becka thought bitterly. But Tigger was his pet too.
"But...but why?" Becka trembled, clutching Tigger tighter. He mewed louder this time, his sound strangled slightly by the girl's arms.
William frowned. "Tigger is dying, angel. We're going to help him die."
Becka sobbed. "I don't want him to die! I love him!"
"He's hurting, Becka," Billy said. "That dog hurt him real bad."
"No. Why can't we take him to the vet? The vet can save him," Becka tried to take a step back, but Billy was still there.
Shaking his head, William knelt next to Becka, "No, he'd just do the same thing we're doing. He's hurt too bad. He's just a barn cat, sweetie. He's not worth the money we'd spend on him."
"He's important to me. He's worth it to me," Becka shook her head.
"Becka," William's voice firmed. "You have to say goodbye. We have to do this."
"No!" Becka shouted. "He's mine!"
"Becka, listen to daddy!" Billy snapped.
Becka's small face contorted with an anger she'd never felt before. She couldn't understand her feelings or what her father wanted to do. Tigger was still breathing. He was nuzzling her face right then and there, purring and trying to comfort her. But Becka could feel the differences in Tigger's body since the big, mean dog had grabbed him. He was bleeding from wounds all over his body. He felt softer. He would cry when she tried to touch him. Why was he hurting?
"What will happen to him when he dies?" Becka asked.
William stood and sighed. "God will send an angel to take him to heaven. He'll be with all the other pets. He won't hurt anymore, Becka."
Becka froze. What was she doing? Could she do this? She lifted up Tigger and gazed into his eyes. One was filled with blood and leaking large tears. The other was still clear and bright. The cat's eyes slowly met Becka's. With the look, Becka asked forgiveness.
She kissed the top of her pet's head and gently handed him to her father. She felt Billy take her hand and turn to lead her away.
They had walked ten paces when they heard the shot.
Then another.
And another.
They both turned to see what was wrong.
It turns out the cat was an alien. It bit off their faces and took off for it's hidden alien craft in the woods.
Fucking alien cats.
Found this gem at http://www.ubersite.com/m/61316
Learning About Goodbye
Becka held onto Tigger with all her seven-year-old might. She hugged her pet close to her chest and rested her cheek on her cat's head. The old cat mewed quietly and Becka felt another tear streak down her cheek.She stopped walking. "Daddy, I won't let you do this."
Her father, walking two paces ahead, stopped his slow strides. His shoulders slumped, but his grip on the rifle grew tighter. William sighed and turned to face his daughter. "Becka, Tigger is sick. Very sick. We're helping him."
Becka felt her brother's hand on her shoulder. Billy was ten and didn't care about Tigger. He wasn't crying at all, Becka thought bitterly. But Tigger was his pet too.
"But...but why?" Becka trembled, clutching Tigger tighter. He mewed louder this time, his sound strangled slightly by the girl's arms.
William frowned. "Tigger is dying, angel. We're going to help him die."
Becka sobbed. "I don't want him to die! I love him!"
"He's hurting, Becka," Billy said. "That dog hurt him real bad."
"No. Why can't we take him to the vet? The vet can save him," Becka tried to take a step back, but Billy was still there.
Shaking his head, William knelt next to Becka, "No, he'd just do the same thing we're doing. He's hurt too bad. He's just a barn cat, sweetie. He's not worth the money we'd spend on him."
"He's important to me. He's worth it to me," Becka shook her head.
"Becka," William's voice firmed. "You have to say goodbye. We have to do this."
"No!" Becka shouted. "He's mine!"
"Becka, listen to daddy!" Billy snapped.
Becka's small face contorted with an anger she'd never felt before. She couldn't understand her feelings or what her father wanted to do. Tigger was still breathing. He was nuzzling her face right then and there, purring and trying to comfort her. But Becka could feel the differences in Tigger's body since the big, mean dog had grabbed him. He was bleeding from wounds all over his body. He felt softer. He would cry when she tried to touch him. Why was he hurting?
"What will happen to him when he dies?" Becka asked.
William stood and sighed. "God will send an angel to take him to heaven. He'll be with all the other pets. He won't hurt anymore, Becka."
Becka froze. What was she doing? Could she do this? She lifted up Tigger and gazed into his eyes. One was filled with blood and leaking large tears. The other was still clear and bright. The cat's eyes slowly met Becka's. With the look, Becka asked forgiveness.
She kissed the top of her pet's head and gently handed him to her father. She felt Billy take her hand and turn to lead her away.
They had walked ten paces when they heard the shot.
Then another.
And another.
They both turned to see what was wrong.
It turns out the cat was an alien. It bit off their faces and took off for it's hidden alien craft in the woods.
Fucking alien cats.
Found this gem at http://www.ubersite.com/m/61316
Tuesday, November 03, 2009
Hiatus
I don't know what to write. I've got no motivation to write. I have no time to write.
And it's driving me crazy.
To the people who threw me into the lurch and left me there.. FUCK YOU. When you tire of your new toys or they get tired of you, you'll die alone and I won't be there because I've moved on :)
I don't know what to write. I've got no motivation to write. I have no time to write.
And it's driving me crazy.
To the people who threw me into the lurch and left me there.. FUCK YOU. When you tire of your new toys or they get tired of you, you'll die alone and I won't be there because I've moved on :)
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
What The Great Big Bloody F...?
This in reference to this post .
Guys, should I go to the police or send an article in to stomp?
This in reference to this post .
HOUSING & DEVELOPMENT BOARD
| Your Ref | : | |
| Our Ref | : | BIN-10-09-Y47 |
| Date | : | 21 Oct 2009 |
| Tel | : | 63985959 |
| Fax | : | 68543239 |
| : | tkw6@hdb.gov.sg |
Dear Ms Tan
REQUEST FOR WAIVER OF PARKING OFFENCE NOTICE NO: H0145744R & H0140963T - FN7418M
PARKING OFFENCE NOTICE NO: H0145744R & H0140963T DATE / TIME OF OFFENCE : 10 & 12 Sep 2009 / 12:10am & 01:41am VEHICLE NO : FN7418M REQUEST FOR WAIVER OF PARKING OFFENCE NOTICE I refer to your email of 13 Sep 2009. Car Park No.Y47 (Blk 360 - 367 Yishun Ring Road) where the offence was committed does not have the night parking facility. If such a facility is provided, it will be stated in the signboard installed at the entrance of the car park. Car Park No: Y47 is reserved for season ticket holders only after 10.30 pm. During the inspection by our service provider, United Premas International at Car Park No: Y47 on 10 and 12 Sep 2009 at 12:10am and 01:41am respectively, your vehicle was found parked at lot no: 27B without a valid season parking ticket. Therefore, the parking offence notices were issued. We have considered your case carefully but regret to inform you that we are unable to waive the offence notices. Please make payment at any HDB Branch Office with the next 10 days from the date of this letter. Payment by e-services and other modes of payment are listed overleaf of the offence notice. We have interviewed our service provider, United Premas International. They confirmed that the canvas cover of your motorcycle was already torn before they issued the offence notices. We would advise you to lodge a report with the Police. Should you wish to park your vehicle overnight, you may do so at car park Y45 (Blks 343-351 Yishun Ave 11) where there is night parking facility. Yours sincerely (Signed in Lotus Notes) TAN KWANG WEI SENIOR EXECUTIVE ESTATES OFFICER for HEAD, YISHUN BRANCH OFFICE HOUSING ADMINISTRATION DEPARTMENTMs Jasmine Tan
Email: (deleted due to privacy issues)
Singapore Dear Ms Tan REQUEST FOR WAIVER OF PARKING OFFENCE NOTICE NO: H0145744R & H0140963T - FN7418M
If you need further clarification, please contact the Yishun Branch Office's Car Parks Section at 63985949.
Guys, should I go to the police or send an article in to stomp?
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Thursday, October 01, 2009
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
I Can't Feel A Thing
We had a talk and had the problem solved last night.
But instead of the love-induced delirium that usually comes with finally getting to touch him again after so many days, I ... can't feel a thing.
Instead, I feel even more alone. I feel even more like leaving
The awkward passes in the hallway. The awkward hugs.
We just aren't us anymore.
I think these feelings stem from having to fight for an apology, even in the most obviously-his-fault situations. I'm so tired and battle-stricken from having to fight for apologies that I rightfully deserve.
It took 4 years for me to get my very first sincere apology from him, and that took an entire week's effort.
And it's not just about the damned apologies. Its about so many other things.
I don't know how I am can not feel a thing, and yet feel so alone.
All I feel is.. that I want to sit here in this chair in office. For as long as possible.
I don't want to go anywhere.
We had a talk and had the problem solved last night.
But instead of the love-induced delirium that usually comes with finally getting to touch him again after so many days, I ... can't feel a thing.
Instead, I feel even more alone. I feel even more like leaving
The awkward passes in the hallway. The awkward hugs.
We just aren't us anymore.
I think these feelings stem from having to fight for an apology, even in the most obviously-his-fault situations. I'm so tired and battle-stricken from having to fight for apologies that I rightfully deserve.
It took 4 years for me to get my very first sincere apology from him, and that took an entire week's effort.
And it's not just about the damned apologies. Its about so many other things.
I don't know how I am can not feel a thing, and yet feel so alone.
All I feel is.. that I want to sit here in this chair in office. For as long as possible.
I don't want to go anywhere.
Friday, September 25, 2009
Nowhere To Go
No one to talk to. So I'm talking to you :)
Shouldn't have expected any less from him, seeing as everyone else in the world is treating me like shit recently, but I did. Which brings me to higher heights to dash me down harder.
Everyone else in the world could hate me, and I wouldn't feel a thing. But not him.
We haven't talked since Tuesday night. And you know what? We didn't even quarrel. We had an argument about his friends (again) and Mr C (who shall henceforth be known as HWSNBN).
It didn't even start out as an argument about his friends.
He was just talking about his poor colleague whose girlfriend forbids him to meet his friends over dinner on Tuesday.
Clarification #1: I do not forbid him to meet his friends. I just don't want to be dragged along to places I don't want to go or forced to conform to groups that I do not belong to. But he is free to go, which he doesn't want to without me, which he then blames me for separating him from his friends.
So I asked him if he was happy where we were. As with any topic about his friends, he gets sensitive and it spirals out of control. From group cultures to conformity, to getting pushed around by HWSNBN* (he actually likes it), we ended up sitting in my living room and he went on about how sad HWSNBN's life is, and that's why he's a douchebag and we should forgive him for it.**.
* This is for the ladies. Girls, will you like having your man pushed around? Won't he seem less of a man when he doesn't do anything about it and stops you from doing so? Even if it wasn't for the love you have for him, it's for the self-respect you have for both yourself and him. When he is actually OK with being pushed around and still goes back for more, you somehow lose whatever respect you have for him as a man.
** Douchebags aren't born. They're cultivated. A sad life story isn't an excuse for douchebaggyness. Everybody has a sad story, most people become better people because of it. But when people choose to become douchebags, you know they're the ones to avoid. Just like how my white brother has turned into a douchebag and we're avoiding him. I could easily go back for more and let him outcast me from the group like he does, but I actually have self-respect.
Clarification #2: I admit, I do bitch about HWSNBN a lot. But that's because he is a horrible person. It's just like Guy A pisses me off, and I bitch about how horrible Guy A is. And because we're always together, of course I'm going to bitch about Guy A to HIM. I'm sure he doesn't want me to bitch about Guy A to other guys right? Also, the whole wide world bitches about HWSNBN, even him. He sometimes bitches to me about what a douchebag that guy is, so why am I condemned (yet) again for voicing out my views on that guy?
The shit thing is, I wasn't even focusing on his friends, or HWSNBN. I was focusing on Us. Us, as in me and him. Us, as in the people in this relationship.
I just wanted to know if he was happy where we were, and how we could improve things, and I wanted to make him feel better by showing him other points of views, trying to make him understand, which he took to be me forcing my thinking on to him.
Clarificatin #3: I am not forcing my views on him. I just want him to see what I see when things happen around me. Instead, he thinks I'm forcing my views on him. He doesn't see that he's forcing his will on me when he forces me to go out with people I don't consider to be my friends.
He keeps saying that he understands what I'm trying to say, but he doesn't. Sure he understand the words coming out of my mouth, but he doesn't get the point of what I'm saying and why I'm saying it. Why would I keep repeating what I've said before countless of times if I didn't have a point, or if he understood the point way before?
"How many years have we been quarrelling about this?"
It's because you never understood me before. Or even made the effort to try to understand. You just keep saying that you understood, you understood, you understood. But you never ever did. You keep dragging it back to you, back to him, back to the group. It was never about me.
So we were having this talk in my living room. Actually, he was the one doing the talking. I got so sick of being interrupted that I decided to try a different approach. I let him talk all he wanted without interrupting him. He went on for a long time, with me being quiet on the other end of the couch.
When he was done, he asked what I had to say. I simply said that I was waiting for him to finish what he had to say.
What I meant to do was to wait for him to finish whatever he had to say without interrupting him, so I could say my piece without being interrupted. I had taken mental notes at points in which I had wanted to intervene but didn't for the sake of not interrupting him. I too had a long piece to say.
But I never got the chance.
As soon as I said that I was waiting for him to finish his piece, he got up and walked off, saying that he doesn't want to waste his breath on me anymore.
Which might not seem much to you, but its mighty hurtful to me. We have this agreement to never walk off angry during an argument. And to never let an argument drag overnight.
I sat in the living room for hours after that waiting for him to come back so we could finish the talk, but he never did. Looks to me like he gave up. He might have thought that he knew what I wanted to say; he might have thought that he understood, but he never did.
We haven't talked since.
I'm supposed to be angry at him for not following through on his demands of me to never walk out during an argument and to finish things on the spot. I'm supposed to be angry at him for not waiting it out to listen to what I have to say. I'm supposed to be angry at him for dragging (yet again) the topic of us to include people who are not in the relationship with us.
But for some reason, he is angrier than me.
I'm sick and tired of being the reasonable one. I'm sick and tired of being the one who's trying to open communication channels when he's not. I'm sick and tired of NOT being the selfish one. I'm sick and tired of holding together this wreck we call communications. I'm sick and tired of being the one who's desperately holding on to the passion in the relationship.
If you don't want to waste your breath anymore, that means we're done communicating.
We're done.
No one to talk to. So I'm talking to you :)
Shouldn't have expected any less from him, seeing as everyone else in the world is treating me like shit recently, but I did. Which brings me to higher heights to dash me down harder.
Everyone else in the world could hate me, and I wouldn't feel a thing. But not him.
We haven't talked since Tuesday night. And you know what? We didn't even quarrel. We had an argument about his friends (again) and Mr C (who shall henceforth be known as HWSNBN).
It didn't even start out as an argument about his friends.
He was just talking about his poor colleague whose girlfriend forbids him to meet his friends over dinner on Tuesday.
Clarification #1: I do not forbid him to meet his friends. I just don't want to be dragged along to places I don't want to go or forced to conform to groups that I do not belong to. But he is free to go, which he doesn't want to without me, which he then blames me for separating him from his friends.
So I asked him if he was happy where we were. As with any topic about his friends, he gets sensitive and it spirals out of control. From group cultures to conformity, to getting pushed around by HWSNBN* (he actually likes it), we ended up sitting in my living room and he went on about how sad HWSNBN's life is, and that's why he's a douchebag and we should forgive him for it.**.
* This is for the ladies. Girls, will you like having your man pushed around? Won't he seem less of a man when he doesn't do anything about it and stops you from doing so? Even if it wasn't for the love you have for him, it's for the self-respect you have for both yourself and him. When he is actually OK with being pushed around and still goes back for more, you somehow lose whatever respect you have for him as a man.
** Douchebags aren't born. They're cultivated. A sad life story isn't an excuse for douchebaggyness. Everybody has a sad story, most people become better people because of it. But when people choose to become douchebags, you know they're the ones to avoid. Just like how my white brother has turned into a douchebag and we're avoiding him. I could easily go back for more and let him outcast me from the group like he does, but I actually have self-respect.
Clarification #2: I admit, I do bitch about HWSNBN a lot. But that's because he is a horrible person. It's just like Guy A pisses me off, and I bitch about how horrible Guy A is. And because we're always together, of course I'm going to bitch about Guy A to HIM. I'm sure he doesn't want me to bitch about Guy A to other guys right? Also, the whole wide world bitches about HWSNBN, even him. He sometimes bitches to me about what a douchebag that guy is, so why am I condemned (yet) again for voicing out my views on that guy?
The shit thing is, I wasn't even focusing on his friends, or HWSNBN. I was focusing on Us. Us, as in me and him. Us, as in the people in this relationship.
I just wanted to know if he was happy where we were, and how we could improve things, and I wanted to make him feel better by showing him other points of views, trying to make him understand, which he took to be me forcing my thinking on to him.
Clarificatin #3: I am not forcing my views on him. I just want him to see what I see when things happen around me. Instead, he thinks I'm forcing my views on him. He doesn't see that he's forcing his will on me when he forces me to go out with people I don't consider to be my friends.
He keeps saying that he understands what I'm trying to say, but he doesn't. Sure he understand the words coming out of my mouth, but he doesn't get the point of what I'm saying and why I'm saying it. Why would I keep repeating what I've said before countless of times if I didn't have a point, or if he understood the point way before?
"How many years have we been quarrelling about this?"
It's because you never understood me before. Or even made the effort to try to understand. You just keep saying that you understood, you understood, you understood. But you never ever did. You keep dragging it back to you, back to him, back to the group. It was never about me.
So we were having this talk in my living room. Actually, he was the one doing the talking. I got so sick of being interrupted that I decided to try a different approach. I let him talk all he wanted without interrupting him. He went on for a long time, with me being quiet on the other end of the couch.
When he was done, he asked what I had to say. I simply said that I was waiting for him to finish what he had to say.
What I meant to do was to wait for him to finish whatever he had to say without interrupting him, so I could say my piece without being interrupted. I had taken mental notes at points in which I had wanted to intervene but didn't for the sake of not interrupting him. I too had a long piece to say.
But I never got the chance.
As soon as I said that I was waiting for him to finish his piece, he got up and walked off, saying that he doesn't want to waste his breath on me anymore.
Which might not seem much to you, but its mighty hurtful to me. We have this agreement to never walk off angry during an argument. And to never let an argument drag overnight.
I sat in the living room for hours after that waiting for him to come back so we could finish the talk, but he never did. Looks to me like he gave up. He might have thought that he knew what I wanted to say; he might have thought that he understood, but he never did.
We haven't talked since.
I'm supposed to be angry at him for not following through on his demands of me to never walk out during an argument and to finish things on the spot. I'm supposed to be angry at him for not waiting it out to listen to what I have to say. I'm supposed to be angry at him for dragging (yet again) the topic of us to include people who are not in the relationship with us.
But for some reason, he is angrier than me.
I'm sick and tired of being the reasonable one. I'm sick and tired of being the one who's trying to open communication channels when he's not. I'm sick and tired of NOT being the selfish one. I'm sick and tired of holding together this wreck we call communications. I'm sick and tired of being the one who's desperately holding on to the passion in the relationship.
If you don't want to waste your breath anymore, that means we're done communicating.
We're done.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
One Gigantic *ahem*
http://sg.news.yahoo.com/cna/20090915/tap-139-pm-lee-says-singapore-greater-ef-231650b.html
Dear NTU students. I'm sure you know how to spot *ahem* when you see it.
We are having one fucking big problem with physical constraint.
Imagine. 1 HDB flat. Thousands of people. Only 20 or so parking lots. Less than 10 bike parking lots.
United Premas aunties fighting for commissions, giving summons like no tommorrow. 4 bike summons already take up more than 10% of my take home income.
Gahment die also don't want to build more parking lots for its citizens. Spend so much money on foreigners.
And people like us can't do SHIT about it simply because.. we're peasants. Who the fuck cares about peasants who aren't beneficial to the gahment in terms of monetary gains except for fucking PARKING SUMMONS? Who would prefer us, peasant-CITIZENS of Singabloodypore, over rich foreigners who have cash to give to the Gahment?
Too many cars? Don't worry, summon those peasants. Economic crisis? Summon those peasants. Gahment not enough money? Summon those peasants. Peasants have no say because they are poor people.
I am one pissed off peasant.
PS: Don't sue me. I have absolutely nothing left for you money grubbers.
http://sg.news.yahoo.com/cna/20090915/tap-139-pm-lee-says-singapore-greater-ef-231650b.html
Dear NTU students. I'm sure you know how to spot *ahem* when you see it.
We are having one fucking big problem with physical constraint.
Imagine. 1 HDB flat. Thousands of people. Only 20 or so parking lots. Less than 10 bike parking lots.
United Premas aunties fighting for commissions, giving summons like no tommorrow. 4 bike summons already take up more than 10% of my take home income.
Gahment die also don't want to build more parking lots for its citizens. Spend so much money on foreigners.
And people like us can't do SHIT about it simply because.. we're peasants. Who the fuck cares about peasants who aren't beneficial to the gahment in terms of monetary gains except for fucking PARKING SUMMONS? Who would prefer us, peasant-CITIZENS of Singabloodypore, over rich foreigners who have cash to give to the Gahment?
Too many cars? Don't worry, summon those peasants. Economic crisis? Summon those peasants. Gahment not enough money? Summon those peasants. Peasants have no say because they are poor people.
I am one pissed off peasant.
PS: Don't sue me. I have absolutely nothing left for you money grubbers.
Saturday, September 12, 2009
The Injustice Of It All
It's so great that I sat down for an hour straight doing nothing but pounding away on my keyboard to send out this long-assed e-mail to the LTA.
Reproduced in its entirety below.
To Whomever-It-May-Concern,
12 September 2009 2.20pm
I am writing in to appeal for the two parking summons I received on 10th and 12th September respectively for my motorcycle, licence plate FN7418M, and to make a complaint regarding the work ethics of United Premas staff.
I was overseas from 8-12 September, and have just reached home not long ago. I went to check on my bike before I came home because it had a small hole in it which I suspect was caused by the summons officer from when I received a ticket on 3rd Sep in an effort to get to my number plate under the cover.
I was infuriated to see today:
1) The small hole had turned into a huge rip, exposing half of the front of my bike to the mercy of sun and rain. As it has a delicate engine, I like to keep it covered so that it is not exposed to the elements. Who knows how long it has been like that? Probably from 10th or 12th Sep onwards.
2) There were TWO parking summons, TWO days apart. This gives me the impression that the summons officer could, if he/she really had a mind to, camp out at this particular carpark and issue tickets every hour until the respective owners remove their cars. It was not as if the second summons officer, Hamiza Bte Abdul Rahman, did not know that there was already one parking ticket issued by Misliah Bte Mohamed before her - it was paper clipped to the ripped bike cover.
This is a particularly big problem in my carpark - Y47. My boyfriend who lives with me, has received tickets on two occasions at 7.01am when he put coupons that end at 7am, and on one occasion got a ticket at 8.01am when the full amount payable kicks in. My mother, who recently got her first car, tried time and time again to purchase season parking unsuccessfully. She finally got the season parking, but it started in September. So from the time she got the car, which was mid August, until 1st September, she got more than 15 parking tickets, all within the hour of coupons expiring.
My mother, being a simple minded person, paid for ALL the parking summons because she was unable to go through the hassle of appealing the parking tickets as she is the breadwinner of the family and is always working. I feel that the exceedingly numerous parking fine are a flat-out extortion from people like my mother.
3) The second summons officer - Hamizah Bte Abdul Rahman - the one who blindly issued the second ticket, STAPLED the ticket to my already ripped bike cover. STAPLED. This is exactly the kind of atrocity that caused my bike cover to be ripped in the first place. As I have clarified before, my bike is a delicate bike, it needs to be kept out of the sun and rain.
4) The worst was yet to come.
Upon closer inspection, I found a few deep scratches on my windshield. It was not there before I went overseas, I am very sure, as I take good care of my bike (or I wouldn't have made such a fuss about the ripped bike cover). I would guess that it happened somewhere along the line of "pulling the hole wider to look for my number plate" or "paper-clipping/STAPLING the ticket onto my bike cover" when a heavy bag hit against it.
Attached are pictures of the state of my bike when I got back earlier today.
In conclusion, I am only willing to pay the fine for the ticket issued on 10th September (notice number H0140963T) but not for the one issued on 12th September (notice number H0145744R).
In addition, I would like to request for compensation of a new bike cover that I purchased today (priced at S$32.00) right after I found out the state of the old bike cover, and also compensation for a new windshield of the same model (priced at S$130.00) as the scratches cannot be removed on this windshield. I would honestly appreciate it if nothing happens to them again due to the actions of incompetent staff from United Premas.
I am sure in my conviction that it is their doing as nothing bad has happened to my motorcycles before United Premas took over. No scratches, no ripped covers.
In future I would advise that the United Premas company select their staff with more vigour, or at least teach them to respect other people's property.
I apologise if I sounded harsh in this email, but please understand my situation. I cannot keep paying for other people's mistakes.
Please forward this email to the relevant department so that I can be contacted to have the matter resolved and my compensation made.
Thank you for taking the time to read this email.
Best Regards,
Jazzyme (this one changed to protect my privacy on this blog, lah)
The ripped cover with my ear sticking out.
The parking tickets side by side and the position of the scratches.
The scratches. If it can be picked up by my lousy cameraphone, trust me, it's deep.
And the STAPLED on ticket.
Morons.
It's so great that I sat down for an hour straight doing nothing but pounding away on my keyboard to send out this long-assed e-mail to the LTA.
Reproduced in its entirety below.
To Whomever-It-May-Concern,
12 September 2009 2.20pm
I am writing in to appeal for the two parking summons I received on 10th and 12th September respectively for my motorcycle, licence plate FN7418M, and to make a complaint regarding the work ethics of United Premas staff.
I was overseas from 8-12 September, and have just reached home not long ago. I went to check on my bike before I came home because it had a small hole in it which I suspect was caused by the summons officer from when I received a ticket on 3rd Sep in an effort to get to my number plate under the cover.
I was infuriated to see today:
1) The small hole had turned into a huge rip, exposing half of the front of my bike to the mercy of sun and rain. As it has a delicate engine, I like to keep it covered so that it is not exposed to the elements. Who knows how long it has been like that? Probably from 10th or 12th Sep onwards.
2) There were TWO parking summons, TWO days apart. This gives me the impression that the summons officer could, if he/she really had a mind to, camp out at this particular carpark and issue tickets every hour until the respective owners remove their cars. It was not as if the second summons officer, Hamiza Bte Abdul Rahman, did not know that there was already one parking ticket issued by Misliah Bte Mohamed before her - it was paper clipped to the ripped bike cover.
This is a particularly big problem in my carpark - Y47. My boyfriend who lives with me, has received tickets on two occasions at 7.01am when he put coupons that end at 7am, and on one occasion got a ticket at 8.01am when the full amount payable kicks in. My mother, who recently got her first car, tried time and time again to purchase season parking unsuccessfully. She finally got the season parking, but it started in September. So from the time she got the car, which was mid August, until 1st September, she got more than 15 parking tickets, all within the hour of coupons expiring.
My mother, being a simple minded person, paid for ALL the parking summons because she was unable to go through the hassle of appealing the parking tickets as she is the breadwinner of the family and is always working. I feel that the exceedingly numerous parking fine are a flat-out extortion from people like my mother.
3) The second summons officer - Hamizah Bte Abdul Rahman - the one who blindly issued the second ticket, STAPLED the ticket to my already ripped bike cover. STAPLED. This is exactly the kind of atrocity that caused my bike cover to be ripped in the first place. As I have clarified before, my bike is a delicate bike, it needs to be kept out of the sun and rain.
4) The worst was yet to come.
Upon closer inspection, I found a few deep scratches on my windshield. It was not there before I went overseas, I am very sure, as I take good care of my bike (or I wouldn't have made such a fuss about the ripped bike cover). I would guess that it happened somewhere along the line of "pulling the hole wider to look for my number plate" or "paper-clipping/STAPLING the ticket onto my bike cover" when a heavy bag hit against it.
Attached are pictures of the state of my bike when I got back earlier today.
In conclusion, I am only willing to pay the fine for the ticket issued on 10th September (notice number H0140963T) but not for the one issued on 12th September (notice number H0145744R).
In addition, I would like to request for compensation of a new bike cover that I purchased today (priced at S$32.00) right after I found out the state of the old bike cover, and also compensation for a new windshield of the same model (priced at S$130.00) as the scratches cannot be removed on this windshield. I would honestly appreciate it if nothing happens to them again due to the actions of incompetent staff from United Premas.
I am sure in my conviction that it is their doing as nothing bad has happened to my motorcycles before United Premas took over. No scratches, no ripped covers.
In future I would advise that the United Premas company select their staff with more vigour, or at least teach them to respect other people's property.
I apologise if I sounded harsh in this email, but please understand my situation. I cannot keep paying for other people's mistakes.
Please forward this email to the relevant department so that I can be contacted to have the matter resolved and my compensation made.
Thank you for taking the time to read this email.
Best Regards,
Jazzyme (this one changed to protect my privacy on this blog, lah)
The ripped cover with my ear sticking out.
The parking tickets side by side and the position of the scratches.
The scratches. If it can be picked up by my lousy cameraphone, trust me, it's deep.
And the STAPLED on ticket.
Morons.
Friday, September 04, 2009
你不想讲，我也不多说
I too feel that it's unfair. I too feel like being selfish. But WTF WTF WTF can I do about it?
So many things. So little time. Don't even have the time to talk.
Thing about blogging is, you look at your old posts sometimes and wonder why you were so emo. Then you look at your old posts sometimes and wonder when you were ever happy. Was is just two weeks ago I was blabbing about happier times?
Feels like an eternity ago.
I too feel that it's unfair. I too feel like being selfish. But WTF WTF WTF can I do about it?
So many things. So little time. Don't even have the time to talk.
Thing about blogging is, you look at your old posts sometimes and wonder why you were so emo. Then you look at your old posts sometimes and wonder when you were ever happy. Was is just two weeks ago I was blabbing about happier times?
Feels like an eternity ago.
Tuesday, September 01, 2009
Monday, August 31, 2009
Fisheyes From Korea (Like.. Finally)
Went to Korea earlier this year with my mom and sister. That was like... either late March or early April. Brought along my infamous fisheye cam (strange how many people around me are suddenly interested in fisheyes after seeing my pictures).
Photos not in sequence.
Negatives
Notice the ending part of the word "Lomography" on the unidentified white object at the side. No wait, that's just my camera cover.
Slides (for those of you who've asked me what the difference was, see for yourself. The colours are more whacked out)
Went to Korea earlier this year with my mom and sister. That was like... either late March or early April. Brought along my infamous fisheye cam (strange how many people around me are suddenly interested in fisheyes after seeing my pictures).
Photos not in sequence.
Negatives
Notice the ending part of the word "Lomography" on the unidentified white object at the side. No wait, that's just my camera cover.
Slides (for those of you who've asked me what the difference was, see for yourself. The colours are more whacked out)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)