Writer . Editor . Author
Speed writing, speed writing my thoughts. Where is the intimacy of my typewriter with me? I feel the cramped and claustrophobic keys of my iPad mini. Sat here on a Saturday long weekend bank holiday with my head hung low and my freshly washed hair overlooking the floor to ceiling window at Popeyes Louisana Kitchen on the top floor of Bedok Point Mall abot 10 minutes’ drive from my home in Melville Park. Emelia has gone to Bintan with Michael for the weekend and this morning I woke up to the rain running down my window like flood on glass and there were even two streaks of soapy line running down from presumably the upstairs neighbour’s washing line or whatever he is hanging out of his window. If there is pain and turmoil inside you you should at least be able to pluck it out by the root and grab it violently with your hands and let the wound heal or it would intoxicate your entire body. There should at least be an outlet of expression, a place or a person where you can be honest to where you can just be yourself without worrying about what others might think about you. Not wanting to seem difficult or be difficult and trouble others to the extent that you have no say and no control over your life is perhaps another one of life’s greatest tragedies. Hey girl, I see you right at the corner. Love is not shared, it is jealous and it is possessive and it requires undivided and wholehearted attention, and perhaps if there is a vacuum in somebody’s heart it is not your place to fill it up for them. Looking for the best seat in the house with the best view (pemandangan yang indah) in an artificial environment of air-conditioning. Willing, obliging, bubbly and candid, man you hide it so well. Time to finish that novel, complete that story, have it fully formed in your head. Learn to observe objectively. Detach yourself from the subject and let your characters take the course of their lives without your judgement and your opinions. Exercise the brain muscle and the brain power. Make the words count. Can you cry till your face hurts? Tekanan = daya / luas. Pressure = force / area. So it depends on how big your area is. If pressure remains the same then the larger your area the less pressure will result. All areas of your life need to expand in order that when the force increases the pressure may remain the same. Between the covers lie a series of words which may seem to some like typography on print but is in actual fact wisdom and insight and knowledge for all who care to dissect it. Organising my thoughts and getting them into coherence is like turning chaos in my head into some form of structure. If you feel hurt and pain inside you should at least be able to let it out and be honest with someone, especially to yourself, about it. Adakah aku pandangan yang indah di matamu? Adakah aku air matamu yang jernih berseri tanpa kemungkaran? The thrower throws everything she can get her hands on until finally there is nothing left inside of her and she is free at last. I deny myself a lot of good things, but there is nothing wrong with a good thing. There is no need to punish yourself and be harsh to yourself. Hey girl, be good to yourself. Dancing in the dark in a towel in my room to Pharrell Williams’ ‘Happy’ and ‘Marilyn Monroe’, where not even Marilyn Monroe or Cleopatra or Joan of Arc could rival my beauty. I’ve found a good thing so why should I let it go? Hey, I’m your daughter, look at me. I may not be a son, not a boy, not a biker, am I not still yours? Will I never be good enough for you? Inside I am still a woman. There are days when I feel the fear one thousand times. There are days when it gets so bad that I feel like I am snowballing and freefalling into this black hole called insecurity, and the fear is like a blanket and a veil and a warp that envelopes me and kills all ability to connect with the people around me and keeps its distance. And The Great Wall of Fear is erected high and mighty, blocking out connection and intimacy, stoning my face and my mind and my heart. People are just people, so you look upon them as a specimen to be studied and observed. The danger of idolising others is this – that the moment they fail to meet your lofty expectations the pedestal is removed from under their feet and they skid to the ground on their buttocks and they turn in that instance from GOD to DOG, from the best to the base, from perfect to pathetic, from ideal to inferior. Sabotage yourself, uglify yourself, project your own self-hate from the looked at unto the looker. Objectify yourself and objectify all men for you fear them and you hate them and you reject yourself and you reject them but inside you are seeking attention yet you profess that you don’t need anyone or anything and that if no one loved you you would continue holding your head up high. But inside the cold gets colder until you become Disney Frozen and you laugh because it’s a silly cartoon but you know it’s the truth. And even now you hide all your true feelings in a mess of words hoping that no one will see all that you have regurgitated. And the iPad when turned off is a reflection of your face and you look into the digital mirror in coloured undertones of black-like marble, and when turned on is Edward Cullen and Bella Swan in a painted movie poster of whose background track is Mutemath’s Spotlight (Son Lux Remix). For Your Approval, Your Majesty.