Almost F**king Perfect

I realized last night that I had made a mistake.

I make mistakes all the time. But this is one of those that will cost me my goals for the year and perhaps, some embarrassments. I can't elaborate what it is.... not that, a million people will be reading this, but, it's too embarrassing. Although, I know what they'll say, if I tell them...... "That only, ahh? Not the end of the world, meh?"

It's no big deal when I think about it and look at it from their point of view. That's the problem, I don't want to see it from their point of view... I want them to see it from MY point of view. Only then will they see the magnitude of the deal!!

Then again, what am I expecting? A pat on the back, and a sympathetic "it's going to be alright"? It's such a huge thing for me that nothing that can be said or done will take away this burden weighing heavy on my heart.

The hope that I place upon this endeavor, and then the the realization that the outcome is less than my expectation, is like a black storm cloud descending upon upon me. I need to break something, scream out loud, punch the wall.... But, I can't because it will just make people stay away from me.

So I have to bear the pain... and the anticipation of embarrassments that I, no doubt, will have to endure...and suffer alone... Because no matter how much I whine about it, and no matter how genuinely caring the person I pour my heart to will be... I will still think that nobody cares.

Nobody's perfect...

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7 Days to Live

This coming Friday, on December 21, 2012, the planet Nibiru, last seen only by the ancient Sumerians a few thousand years ago, will come around and pass so near our earth that it will shift the poles and cause a cataclysm, wiping all living things on our planet. According to Nancy Lieder, this phenomenon was first predicted to happen in 2003, but when nothing happened then, she postponed it to 2012. Ms Lieder claimed that she was abducted by aliens when she was young and later released so that she can warn all of us of the impending end of the world. Something is going to happen on December 21, some people insists, because that is the last day on the Mayan Calendar. The Mayan Calendar it seems is as accurate as the atomic clock, marking exactly the celestial events for the last 5,000 years. Some say that a meteor will fall to earth and we will then go the way of the dinosaurs. Or.... a huge solar flare occurs, engulfing and annihilating all planets in its path, earth...

Another phase in life.... hers and mine...

I have been in a melancholy mood. I have been unmotivated, wishing that I don't have to go to work. Although, I try to be the type of parent that is practical and always encouraged my children to be independent and self-sufficient, I guess I've always wanted to be there for them. Now, there is this realization that my eldest daughter, doesn't need me anymore. Sending her to college last Sunday, it suddenly occurred to me that she will, from now on, be spending more time away from us. This is what has put me in a pensive mood. And, in a couple of years, my eldest son will leave us and then my other daughter, then finally, my youngest son. I look back at the last 17 years of raising her, I wish I had been a better parent. I wish I was had shown more patience and compassion rather than anger and edginess. I wish I had shown more composure than agitation. Maybe, that is why I find it hard to let go. I have this feeling that I haven't done enough, that I must hang on ...

Pak Mat Beca

I started school in 1971. I went to Sekolah Ismail (Dua), as far as I am concerned the only primary school in the whole universe and every kid must go there or the government will put their parents away forever. The "Dua" or Two (2), does not mean there were two Sekolah Ismails. There was only one, except that there were two sessions, morning and afternoon. When I started in standard one, I was in the morning session. Apparently, somehow, the two Ismails alternate, and I really can't recall ever having to go to school in the afternoon. Every morning, my cousin, the late Hashimah Hashim (Allah bless her soul), and I would wait for Pak Mat to pick us up in his beca, his trishaw. And, until I changed school in 1976 (that's another story to tell), Pak Mat and his beca would take me to school every school day. I know of no other way to go to school and I did not really appreciate the distance that Pak Mat had to cycle to pick us up and send us to our respective s...

Life's Remains....

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