Incoherent babblings

I always have a strong sense of self, of who I am.
And of course who I am want to be.

I am not going to lie and say that I don't care what others think about me.
It's just that what i think of myself matters more.

I obviously do care --- I can (sometimes even vehemently) remember being taunted by an extremely greasy/obese,unpopular and rude male classmate in high school, for being fat.

The irony of me being smaller than him was probably lost in his thick head. To be fair, I didn't get the beauty of the irony then either because i burst in tears immediately ( for the joke was on me apparently). In true honesty,I would felt much better if that bad mouthing and juvenile (on hindsight) tauting was done by some hot stud of the jock. Get what I mean?

But well, i got over it and Life goes on. I still thought I'm pretty cool.
You might think so too, if you had shared my (then) fondness for bright Hawaiian shirts, khakis and maybe some Fubu jeans.

Please note (or reminisce, if you are of my age and beyond)an era where my peers developed an (acquired) taste of wearing black bra underneath Giordano windbreakers and tight bell bottoms. And then some. (*shudders*)

And of course ,being the innately arrogant ass that I am,
I was ( and still am) immensely smug that I didn't fall to the dark side.
I chose the side to be I want to be on.
(Too much of autobots,and Megan Fox in my head. Jetfire, anyone?)

Things change when you get older.
It isn't right to say that we cannot choose the circumstances we get into,
yet it is unfair to say if we can.

Anyways, I'm holding on to very essence of me but sometimes the mainstream draught causes me to waver. And when it does, it annoys me so.

I think I am getting extremely incoherent.
I know who and what I am, and what I want to be.
But then, I just need to know where to go.

It's like sand falling through my fingers..

This is not funny.Not funny at all.
Yes, I'm in one of my emo-nemo-maybe-i-should-kill-someone-now mood.
What makes this worse is knowing that this probably isn't the work of the infamous PMS.

Now what? Somebody, tell me now what?
I hate explaining why i do things i do. It just doesn't make sense for me to justify my actions and my thoughts. I'd rather have someone kick me in the ass, i tell you. Well meaning or not,
I don't need anyone to question me. For this is my life, and this is what I live for.

I know, my coherence is failing me.
And i know i'm big whiner and a unbelievable procrastinator. But that doesn't mean that i don't know what i want, and that my every step doesn't mean a thing. There are things i want to do, and perhaps the time is now. Sometimes, I'm planning but I'm not ready to share.

People, please do not try to confuse me.
I have a couple of paths i can choose, some of which may be mutually exclusive of each other.
I'm just bloody afraid that i will screw my life to the path of mediocrity and general dissatisfaction. That I am less of what i thought myself to be.

This fear.

Sometimes, I wonder I am what i am , or what i want myself to be.
It's a thin red line, my friend. Go figure.

Oh , as the heat waves hit!

The weather has been ridiculously crazy. The whole ball of heat and humidity just tries to drive me insane. It makes my temper short and funky, and I figure I have not been exactly fun or pleasant to be around ( even being funky can't save the hell out of me). All i want to do is to stay in the cool comfort of my room and rot my life away. Am I a pampered child or am i not?

Oh well. The parents, and the best friend are out of town. Only the boyfriend stays and has willingingly braved through my alternate bouts of whininess,scowling impatience and some uncomely manners :( In short, the boyfriend has been leting me have my way, just because he couldn't bear seeing me upset. Even when he thinks i'm a tad unreasonable.Love you baby !

The truth is i don have much to say or update.
I'm feeling tired. I blame the afternoon sun. Getting back into shape after you have melted thoroughly required energy and patience.

Perfect in Mediocrity...

Sometimes I think I am so much of a perfectionist , that I am just so terribly afraid that what I do turns out to be imperfect. Nondescript. Or mediocre.
And end up not doing anything at all.

Such fear of being a failure is not cute, i know.


As you may already tell, I'm pretty much in denial about it.

Seems like I'm the kind of person who asserts incessant pressure on myself,
driving myself crazy without meaning to. My body crashes and turns ballistic on me,leaving me quite the bewildered fool with the insane amount of drugs I take.

Stress ,it seems. Or so some of my doctors say.
Stress it is then, I suppose.

In true honesty, it is somewhat of humiliation and utter blow to my oh-so-sensitive ego when people suggest that my physical health crumbles in the face of challenge. I hate it because it implies that I am weak. We all know how unspoken implications sting , especially the young and indignant.

And no one likes to be weak.
This is a fact of life, something that even the great evolution of Mankind ( and otherwise) cannot and will not erase. This is how the ecosystem is being run and will continue to.

I am ,however,feeling weak.
Knowing that I am yet again at crossroads and not knowing what to do next can be quite distressing. Ha, am I the only one who can smell the thick scent of irony?

Having a supportive and loving family , and of course the wonderful boyfriend eases the frustration,the helplessness of being weak. I only fear for their own sanity.

Well, mostly the boyfriend's for now.
I am truly amazed at his threshold for my nonsense, my incoherent blabberings and all those crying fits.He's ever patient and giving, and nary a word of complain even when i am shrieking my head off over the phone. Does the sweetest things to make me happy, and giving in to my silly little whims. Ah, such a darling and i bet he knows it too. haha
Thank you, my dear :)

It's strange how counting my blessings seem to change this whole depressing almost militant flavour of this post. Yes, I'm not as ungrateful and crazy as what you may think.

Oh well, I'll do better tomorrow.

You know where you got your funny genes from..

when your dad speaks slapstick like he's on some Jack Neo's show.
Not your typical fuddy duddy man. Although he vehemently emphasized , on several occasion , that he is one very traditional man. And I concur.

But that's another story for another day till the blue moon's out.

Yes, my dad is awesomely cool, very hip. He has msn, so do I.
He has facebook too, if you don't already know.
In fact, we just had a msn conversation which went like this :

( As you can see evidently below , my dad's name is lim.
I call him Lim Peh. Like seriously.)


lim says:
have your lunch?

jane: limbo jumbo.. says:
not yet

jane: limbo jumbo.. says:
you leh?

lim says:
so how?my sky so late you haven't eat

jane: limbo jumbo.. says:
whahahaa

jane: limbo jumbo.. says:
my sky = wo de tian ah?

jane: limbo jumbo.. says:
whahhhaa

It's hilarious, especially my dad rushed downstairs from his room to mine just to enlighten yours truly on his apparent genius use of ' my sky'. And of course being the precocious one, i was already laughing my guts and brain juices out when i saw his message.

Oh, please do excuse my gratuitous use of ' whahahaha' in all general msn conversations. Yes, I am a happy person.Sometimes, it's just a figure of speech. And a wonderful and dynamic sort of conversation filler. It's just plain cute,right? Whahahahah.

Oh well, i need to get lunch soon.
Otherwise,' my sky' will be coming down on me soon.

I've been putting off the inevitable, the essential and the formidable.
Instead, the plain old Jane has been busy doing nothing and everything. Darn.
Yes, the pains of sitting at the Throne of The Procrastinator.

Like sitting in front of the computer, facial-masked, not really knowing what to do or say. No, not constructive at all.

Amongst the many things which I unfortunately have not bring my mind and soul to do, I probably need to do up my resume really soon. An art which I have yet to master or even get the hang of. In fact, I never figured this out even now.

I mean, what the hell am I suppose to write about?
That I'm insanely adept at high-end data entry and 'maintaining excellent relationships with internal and external client alike'.
Or I'm extremely anal about the weirdest things,
but not exactly meticulous. Or maybe I'm so much of a perfectionist that i
took me this long to put the resume together.

Resume notwithstanding, i hate it when I cannot bring my ideas, my dreams to life. I do sound bitter and old, though I would very much like trade all of the bitterness and antsy-ness for humor and laughter. Bah!

On the a more superficial and happier note,
I really do love the above mentioned face mask
whahahah..