Sunday, August 14, 2016

Why so serious?

I dont normally do movie reviews.  Many others are much better at it.

However, I am compelled to write about this.

Suicide Squad.

The critics were right - the movie sucked. And yes, I did go a second time just to confirm that it indeed sucked.

Yet while there was hardly any plot to dig into, the movie does have some super awesome scenes. It's like a collection of scenes which had colour and sound and attitude - damn, made me wanna go get a Glock bat right after the show.  

I am pretty sure that had not most of the scenes played by Jared Leto been left on the cutting floor, it would be a movie about Mr J.

But more than anything, Joker removing his jacket and falling into the chemical vat after Harley - has to be the sexiest scene I have encountered. God dammit. That is how you make a mind fuck so sexy.

Desire becomes surrender. Surrender becomes power.

Poyo but still, I read that in the Joker's voice. Did you?


Sunday, June 19, 2016

Chasing the white rabbit.

Checking in.
And I have been talking about checking out. Still. I guess with some of the most important anchors from my last journey having just upped and left, the heart is adrift again. And dangerously, the mind sinks into the dark abyss again.

Still using the same mindless drifting metaphor, the tumbleweed moniker has become a self-fulfilling prophesy. My life purpose remains elusive,  and the time for action is dead at a quarter to. Maybe I need a shrink. Maybe I need a friend. Maybe I need a hero. Yet it seems like I need to don the armour myself and strap in my phasers to avoid disappointment from pseudo knights on white horses which most likely need saving themselves.

Still, I managed to fulfill one promise to the folks and took them to Bali with almost no planning. Like in all holidays of the past 3 years, my most memorable moment was next to the water, the Indian Ocean to be more precise. And like all oceans, it didn't disappoint in terms of the ferocity and power. It was particularly turbulent when we were there and the pull towards the waves and rocks was so strong, I could swear that I was lured by siren song.  I was only held back by the guarded stares of Mom and Dad which locked and pulled me back like a benevolent tractor beam.

I interrupt this baseless rambling to state with utter seriousness that if there ever was a Westeros, I would most likely be iron born. What is dead may never die.

How small we are. How insignificant with our ridiculous fretting.  what a waste of energy and intellect to have all this capacity and yet live small meaningless lives to eat, seek shelter, procreate (for most lucky ones anyway) and then die. On a rock that orbits the sun until it one day collapses into itself, scorch the earth and kill everything.
How stupidly futile.

And here I am wondering if the boss will yell at me tomorrow.
How stupidly futile.
 

Wednesday, June 01, 2016

Turbulence

Good news: You are in the air, baby
Bad news: You can fucking crash

I could kill for a cigarette. But its 17 bucks a pack. ROI very poor. I do have a white chocolate magnum sitting in the freezer - but some instances only nicotine would do. It is very very dangerous to be staying so close to a 711.

Today I had to help a subsidiary put up a pitch. Still working on the deck. Ok, I was a little hard on my poor unsuspecting colleagues but hey, I could do this in a couple of hours versus taking full days now. Wow, I actually know stuff. Awesome!

So I did this personality profile thing over the weekend and yeah, looks like my personality type is the rarest in the world. Omg is that why it's so hard to find a soul mate? Apparently I am a introverted diplomat. Is that also why I can't tell people to go to hell?  But that so does not match my resting bitch face, which really can fool you. And I am the type of person who writes and reads good. Booyah! In your face, Hemmingway.

On a totally different tangent - I was once told that we are all energy and we attract people with similar vibrations as ours. God, I must have been such an asshole. Okay maybe that is unfair. I know some very wonderful people so I guess if I am good, I am very very good. If I am bad, I am horrid. So much for Sunday's child is full of grace.

So anyway, turbulence.  Word of the past two days.
People hurt me. I hurt people. I hurt me. People hurt. You need suffering to understand joy. You need darkness to understand light. You need loss to understand fulfillment. It's a crap deal.

Haiya, Magnum pun Magnum lah. 

Sunday, March 13, 2016

Bye bye bunny

RIP Peanut 11 March 2016

Sunday, February 28, 2016

Fuck this. No really.

So its been one helluva crappy week.

I have been OD-ing on everything that cannot possibly be good for me.  Which of course includes work.

There is a sudden shift in the dynamics of my universe, having another satellite joining my orbit.  I underestimated how the gravity of another spinning rock can totally shift my own balance. In equal, no - more dramatically,  is news of the imminent loss of my north star.

Admittedly I didn't realise how little it would need to take me back to periods of self doubt, longing and despair. And it still astounds me the cruelty people can inflict on each other.
Does truth really set you free?  Only if there was an absence of it in the first place.

But one good thing is that with new people coming into my life, I am able to let some go. It was liberating but on the other hand, it only seems like musical chairs. Am I manifesting this drama? Do I need to send another person to therapy?  Do I give up and start collecting cat names?  

Still, are these experiences and persons, mirrors ? Am I suppose to clear more experiences? I thought I had a grip of all this shit. Especially after Janda Baik. And yet I can see Christie grinning going - "it's not over".

Sigh.

I know. There are always challenges and I need to meditate and go back to at least attempting to live clean. I am a bit miffed that I let myself lose that momentum. But I hope all is not lost.

Saturday, January 02, 2016

Closing of 2015 and a New Hope for 2016

I don't recall when 2015 started and 2014 ended. Two very dark years. The idea of emerging out of the gloom was so incomprehensible. It is like a lifetime with a Dementor.

Yet change did happen- eventually.
I have been dragged to a good place - kicking and screaming at first.

While my parents have been the bedrock that stops me from free falling, it is The Sibling that is the crank that yanks me up with tough love and not so gentle urging in the realms of "get a fucking grip, you are not dead".

And he started me off on a path of spirituality where I have been passed from hand to hand of spiritual guides, teachers and new friends. Its like the universe sighing, "FINALLY, she listens!".

It all started with Flow in April 2015, and Life was critical in pulling me out of despair. I draw replenishment from meditation and prayer.

That I have spoken to Neil Gaiman at his book signing in NYC, finally listened to Amanda Palmer's Grammy nominated Art of Asking and attended Chris Cornell LIVE at the Sydney Opera House - all within 2 years, is proof that I omg, I must not have totally screwed up my life. It was so fucking amazing. ( I hope I don't get penalised for language)

Then there is that trip to Sydney and Melbourne which enriched the soul. The Ocean seemed to say, welcome back.

The education continues as I cross paths with people and works of art that impart lessons in one way or another.  From Davis Wong's brutal 6 harsh truths to Shaun who does not dice his words when it comes to my monogrammed baggage.

So 2016 will be a year of self love, courage and discovery. It will be a year of making things and breaking things (my inhibitions mainly), and the pursuit of happiness to make up for lost time.
From the mouths of babes - YOLO!!!!



Wednesday, November 04, 2015

Caffeine withdrawal

The flights are booked. I am really excited to be on the road again. For a pedestrian, I have traveled far.  A privilege and blessing indeed. I don't know any more than bliss will be contained in a cup of freshly brewed coffee where the skies are blue. Here's hoping.

The universe sent me a message yesterday. I came in the form of a forwarded message containing a youtube link which under normal circumstances, I would  ignore. It was like God telling me to be my authentic self. And today, I tried to be. It is liberating if not somewhat foreign. I feel like I have a decision and commitment to make.

Oh authentic self. I guess I am going to get my hair coloured red again. And get that tat I have been thinking about.  Somehow or a rather, through the randomness that accompanies idle chatter with Sharon, we begun talking about soul mates.

Once upon a time, I used to believe in soul mates. These days I would put my money on finding a unicorn instead.  Advice that was given is to go slow and try finding mates first. Meeting people is hard. especially people I don't want to stab. At this rate being a crazy cat lady is starting to make a lot of sense.

Sometimes it still hurts. For Will to say that tis better to have love and lost, the bard knows nothing of rejection - when the knife enters, piercing flesh and marking bone, and the final twist of the blade which maims the heart, not to kill but cripple it forever.  I would have preferred to not have loved at all. 

Sunday, October 25, 2015

Checking in


Its been a month since Janda Baik where the training wheels got taken off. The cult sessions, as the family calls it, are over.  I am glad to get my Mondays back but its so easy to fall into despair again when nobody is chastising me to woman up. Because it's so EASY.

Curling up into a foetal position and telling the world to fuck off is so beautiful. And it is ironic that it's not passion that gets me up in the morning but fear at being yelled at at the office. This love hate relationship with my career is getting stale. A peer who has just turned GM in another company is telling me that the world is huge. Him and just about every person I have spoken to.  Leaving the country now for blue skies literally is somehow not terribly appealing because truth be told, I have not severed the chains to my universe of fears that I have so carefully curated.

Anyway the cigarettes have stopped too because honestly, inhaling smoke, in the haze, then looking for a facemask and ingesting bird's nest for "strong lungs"... is the epitome of stupidity.  

Despite the occasional loneliness, I am relishing being in my own space. All 800 sq ft of me. From the walnut table to my Megat Sri Rama, to my Egyptian cotton sheets to the dead plants that were supposedly representative of my relationship with myself. Digressing a little from describing my interior design prowess, I have so far managed to kill every plant I have. Let's hope the moss in my terrarium survives my touch of death. I mean, its moss. If I do manage to kill that, then all hope is lost. 

Anyway, within this space is my queendom (a reference appropriated from a TED talk and not in reference to anything LGBT, I promise). Within this microcosm, is the most honest life I have lived.  This craving to be accepted has forced me in many ways and for so many times to compromise the essense of my true self. Like its always offered up for negotiations. Being just myself, just myself, never seems good enough. And right at the cusp of feeling sorry for myself, the devil's advocate ponders out loud,  whether is the learned friend wallowing in entitlement? 

It is seriously screwed up to want to give up, yet intellectually cognizant to realise that it's foolish, articulate enough to spew vitriol, too chicken shit to do anything and yet too much of a masochist to stop cutting myself up.  


Sunday, September 27, 2015

Count Cigarette Sticks

The best nicknames are the ones that appear from nowhere.

And seriously nobody counts ciggy sticks unless they are quitting. Or have quit and trying to just justify the occasional fall from grace.

They say that stopping cigarettes makes you fat.  That's for sure.  The stress cooking has started. Spent the whole day smoking up the kitchen. Just like in university when I used to cook up a dinner party right before exams.  Some kids smoke up, I go all Masterchef.
Ugh. (To be fair, my iced lemon poppy seed cupcakes are mind-blowing).

Its been 3 months since the move. I have been busy potting around, keeping dark thoughts at bay.  

Thursday, September 03, 2015

Why, hello!

I am shocked.
Its September and I have written nothing for 2015. Has the wordsmith been replaced by the analyst? But surely even the analyst would have something dry to say.
Woe indeed.

I had toyed with the idea of starting a new blog - the phoenix birthed from the ashes so to speak. But that is a cop out. There is no sweeping anything under the carpet. The scorched marks are on the damned carpet.
Trying to hide (from) the past - that is no phoenix. That's a fucking ostrich.

So yeah.

I am back.