Sunday, 30 August 2009

scribbles on the wall

I took a couple of hours just looking through my past writes, compiling bits of what I said before and printed them on sheets of old paper. I like the nostalgic feeling to it. I know it may seem, to some, that it is privy to share but that's okay. I'm an open book like that. So read it, and share your thoughts too. I can't wait to take a picture of it soon.

Thursday, 27 August 2009

ponder wonder

"And then I felt sad because I realized that once people are broken in certain ways, they can’t ever be fixed, and this is something nobody ever tells you when you are young and it never fails to surprise you as you grow older as you see the people in your life break one by one. You wonder when your turn is going to be, or if it’s already happened."
Douglas Coupland - Life After God

Tuesday, 25 August 2009

zero in

I'll be needing one of those impromptu crossing border trip soon. Possibly to mend a friend's broken soul, gigging alone and scour kitschy shops with cute dresses that call out my name.

bright idea

What if, I am just crazy about the idea of it, but afraid of the steps leading to it? Maybe I should stop thinking about it. I wonder how I came this far. Do we have to play our responsibilities now? Who am I kidding? Right, myself.

Saturday, 22 August 2009


Come as you are sweetheart, come as you are.
You know you've got nothing to prove
I'll put you to bed you can let it all go
You've been playing too rough lately

You burn too bright
You live too fast
This can't go on too long
You're a tragedy starting to happen
Just as you are. Perfect just as your are
I'll give you the time you deserve.
Don't make those promises
Don't tell me again.
That dust is gonna settle your nerves.

[music for the soul: red - elbow]

Wednesday, 19 August 2009

rock star stalker gets her rock stars

My dream job would be stalking rock stars all day long but I guess I am happy with just a weekend of blissful chasing after rock stars in the hall way during MTV World Stage: Live in Malaysia.

The trick is, people, that while a press con is being held in the hall, you excuse yourself to the bathroom and voila, you'd stumble upon a legion of rock stars waiting to be ushered into the hall.

Amy and I stood there; we couldn't believe our luck!

With Tom Meighan of Kasabian after an interview session on the Sunday. He was charming, in good spirits, kept direct contact with those blue eyes and most importantly, he was witty. He planted a kiss on my head on the way out and I vowed not to wash my hair that night (but of course I did after much hesistation!)

Saturday. Just as they were about to be ushered out, I quickly asked Tom and Serge for a picture

Tyson of All-American Rejects. This is a story which I don't get bored of telling, ever! The second I whipped out my camera, five security guards jumped on me and blocked my lens with their hands. I was dumbfucked. But Tyson saved the day by saying "It's ok, she's special!" I turned to him and said "I hope it's [meant] a good thing!"

Doug of Hoobastank

I made Chris and Dan ask each other questions. They were baffled. Mission accomplished. It was meant to be a senseless interview anyway. Read it in envy magazine soon.

Tuesday, 18 August 2009

black robes

About 20 temple workers dressed in black robes surrounded the family.

They were chanting, and singing with the help of a yellow book, all 24 pages of it.

I was struggling to keep up. Flipped one page after the other. Foreign characters blurred my vision. Tears blurred my vision.

I didn't know what I was doing. When the sifu told us to kneel, I kneeled. When he told me to stand, I stood, just like what a filial grandchild would do. We walked around his casket five times, with the workers still chanting, and my tears still flowing.

Kneel, stand, walk.

We've been doing that for the past 45 minutes. It made me realised the importance of respecting your elders and honouring his name.

Ten hours before the chanting ceremony, I had taken a last look at my grandfather, who was lying peacefully.

"Don't drop any tears on the casket," an auntie quipped. I didn't know what that meant either.

I sobbed and told him how much I missed him and that we used to visit the zoo and the beach together. I told him I was sorry for not being there.

I stood there, my cousins in the background, and it struck me that I was his eldest grandchild.

We had a lot of fond memories, didn't we gonggong?

The second day, I watched as my uncles, his son-in laws, carried the flag in his honour. I held more joss sticks again. I kneeled again. I cried again.

We rode in a bus which led to the crematorium. And we prayed when his body was to be incinerated. I couldn't bear to stay on to watch. So I went up on the bus and waited. Thought about the swing, the ice-cream, the pen knife, our talks, the walks on the beach, telling him my byes and hellos as I leave for and return from college then... and now they are just memories awash in time.

[music for the soul: last goodbye - jeff buckley]

i got my head checked by a jumbo jet

Some people need to learn that the world doesn't always revolve around them, and that they should get their ginormous head checked, especially when it comes to sweating the small stuff and the small stuff happens to be me.

Tuesday, 11 August 2009


I've never had anyone die on me before. Give up, yes, but not dying.

His funeral will be my first mourning.

Smoke, ashes, memory.

I haven't cried this hard for the longest time.

I wish funerals wouldn't be this difficult.

At the top shelf of my dressing table lies a pen knife. It was the first and last gift from him to me.

I wonder if the airport staff would allow me to carry it by hand to his mourning.

I guess not.

I know deep down in my heart he still remembers me as I mimicked an aeroplane landing with my right hand and telling him in Cantonese that we flew from KL to see him.

Two weeks ago after I visited him, I told myself I'd try to fly more often; two months once. I guess someone up there disagreed with me.

I wonder if that someone has been digging deep in my thoughts, and following my dreams about him.

I'm sorry I wasn't there.

[music for the soul: death - white lies]

Monday, 10 August 2009

couped up

All I could hear whilst being couped up in the room is the sounds of blazing sirens, the thundering tracks as the trams rode by and the leaves rustling on the grounds. If I didn't know any better, I could be living in the suburbs of Brooklyn or something.

Then the cat quietly circles my laptop before making herself comfortable on the blanket, my blanket.

Maybe someone's having the same night as I am, somewhere across the continent.

Saturday, 8 August 2009

Thursday, 6 August 2009


"Be brave enough to live creatively. You have to leave the city of your comfort and go into the wilderness of your intuition. You cannot get there by bus, only by hard work, risking and by not quite knowing what you are doing."

Wednesday, 5 August 2009

Hibby jibby

"We need to find Frankie soon. I need to feel pain."

"Tattooing is not pain."

"Yeah, well, it is to me!" (I have zero tolerance for pain, you see).

"Megan Fox just gave me an inspiration to tattoo Jeff Buckley's lyrics on the side of my body."

Just after I said that, her body went into a hibby jibby and she walked away.

Monday, 3 August 2009

Oops, I did it again

Hello, who are you looking for? Let your imagination wander.

And if it takes shit to make bliss, then I feel pretty blissfully.

If you're looking for something, you won't find it here. They've been nipped, tucked and kept away safely.

[music for the soul: the view - modest mouse]