A year has gone by, and a good year it has been too. I know this post is coming in a little late, but what can I say.. I've been busy - kicking off the new year with a trip to Italy, bonding with some people, unintentionally losing friendship with others, missing family and those who have been good to me, tearing over the good and bad, thankful for what has happened, regretting nothing - the road to self discovery.
It has only been four months since I've left home, and already I've found out more about myself than I ever have the past 23 years of my life. You are, alone and always will be no matter how many friends you think you have or will be there for you. Their intentions may be right, but each of us have our own paths, our own unique coming of age stories. Sometimes it's better to let go the idea of 'forever friends til we die on our deathbeds' because it's a lot more complicated than that. Letting go of the past or what it could be is the way to live in the now, to absorb new experiences. Destination : Different Possibilities, Excess Baggage: None.
I like how I am a nobody here. No one knows my past, who my friends are, the type of places I go to. No one cares who you are, what good things you've done..so what there still are people going through shit in other parts of the world so get over yourself. I guess it's easy for people in a small city like KL to get delusional because it's so easy to get recognition for the right or wor ng reasons. But here, it's like starting on a clean slate. An empty piece of canvas. Being reborn. The endless possibilities of where I could end up is exciting.
This post is not meant to belittle, condescend or offend. It is, after all, the time capsule in which I would look back to observe how and when I came across such epiphanies. I will be guilty of generalising, stereotyping.. but please in all fairness, surely you have been guilty of the same offences some time or another. And if you think you know what I'm referring to.. chances are you are wrong. I never write solely to reflect my current state of affairs, I extract my so-called theories from the experiences of others on occasion.
Very well.
All my life, I thought.. my man had to be good looking, wealthy, deep and intellectual, blowed me away with his speech, the ability to teach me new things, suave like Brendan Fraser's character as the author in Bedazzled. I was so goddam sure of it.
Perhaps it's just me but in KL, there is a pretty small pool to fish out from, metaphorically speaking. Everyone knows everyone, and everyone is just trying to be everyone, and in the event of trying to be different, more often than not end up looking trying too hard or to a sadder extent, pretentious even. In other words, everyone is just constantly trying to prove themselves as worthy. Oh the battle. They primp themselves, go out every single night to as many parties, drink themselves silly, have as many bitch fights over the stupidest things, sleep with as many girls, the need for drama in order to seem more interesting, only to wake up the next day, brag about their hangovers over coffee before repeating the previous steps. Sure sure sure, this doesn't apply to everyone. But let's face it, I'm sure you can apply this to more than half the people you know.
And of course, this does not just happen in KL. It happens to any major city in the world. Only difference is that KL is the puny-est city and it just gets a tad claustrophobic. Blame it on the media. We get shows like the OC, My Sweet Sixteen, Laguna Beach and such junk, and Malaysian's being the bumbling xenocentrics that they are (hellooo it figures why we've been taken over by everyone from the Dutch, Portuguese to the British right) just succcccumb to the frikkin dumb and lacklustre subculture of others. It is all a big Little Miss Sunshine contest. People love talking about the people they know. You may run to another country, but where there's KLites there is no escape. Yes, gossip knows no boundaries.
I like my little room in Gubbay. I am free to be whoever I want to be. I've always had to have this exterior on to be tough and invulnerable. But then I met the boy. The boy who was not who I imagined I would fall for. I liked him surely, but not in the usual manner.
You see, I would meet guys before who on first and second encounters would seem to tick all the right categories. Thus the picture of perfection. I would swoon, he is perfect, he is perfect. Then, the more I got to know them, the more I wish I hadn't. The picture of perfections crumbles and slips away. I am left dissapointed.
But with him, I started of.. this might be fun, it IS just for fun..he WAS leaving in a few months. He was BLAH and AMERICAN for crying out loud, egocentric and all that. He didn't know anything else except "..in America..we have THIS" and that irritated me so much. But, he was also caring. And responsible. Humble and unassuming. He had character, he had a grit of realism to him, he had silly hobbies that gave him a softer touch. He was a real person, someone I enjoyed being around with the more I saw of him. I felt safe. I felt like a little girl all over again whenever we held hands and I had to walk doubly fast just to catch up with him. I like how even when he made me mad, he knew how to handle me and not think it was all him him him. I was perfect.. for once I didn't feel insecure and like I had to take care of the boy so that he wouldn't stray. He, the American.. the very culture that introduced 'players and hos'..the culture that influenced our dear KLites into thinking hey everyone is doing it why not us and look at me I'm so Westernised.. fuck all that people, we're losing ourselves as a culture not that anyone cares. Anyway, yes this American looked after me like a true gentleman, spoiled me and cared for me.. just like every girl should be. No drama, no hurt, nothing but love. I was happy.
The best part? We never once had a "deep" conversation. We just enjoyed being in each others company. We didn't have to go to parties to get wasted because we had better fun doing mundane things together. Call me boring, or old even. But this is my question that I shall be pondering from this moment forth.
What does it take to make a relationship/marriage work? Should we be able to have these so-called deep converstions for the rest of our life so that we never get bored. Would that be enough to guarantee a happy marriage. Think of it, a man who is a thinker, will always have something on his mind. Meaning he is never happy. Always looking for something else. Wonder what else is out there for him. Wonder if you were the one he's supposed to be with.
Or is it more important to just be happy growing old with a person, spending quality time enjoying just living day to day with him, even if it meant comfortable silence just watching the sun set. If a man knows his responsibilities, he would never even consider straying.
Even if I do not end up with him, I am happy for the time we had together. I know he is going through a tough time now and I feel sad. But he has unintentionally taught me a lot of things in accordance to what I want and need in life and so have I to him. That alone is worth the pain that we've both had to go through. I know I might end up putting my foot in my mouth again after posting this but hey..Here's to 2007, and more life lessons along the way.
with my verondee. cleavage baby!
Imahottie.
next to represent the country?
See's Hand Selected Candy..mmm.
Moet's so cute when she dances!
pigging out on dorrritttosss..mm.
my little boy rolling that snow
