9th April 2005

Yesterday, as I was publishing my blog, it got lost in the process(again!).

So, here I am on a cool Saturday morning typing it out again.

( LESSON LEARNT: Copy your blog before you press the publish button, just in case)
I recently got an e-mail from Ray, asking me to share(or sell, but preferably give to) my Will and Grace downloads with him.

Then my mind wandered to the time on MSN Chat when he sort of ignored me and gave me the impression that he thought of me as "I've done it with you, and now you are of no consequence to me".

And yet, he dared to .....

I guess it's in the teenage constitution to not give a hoot about anyone but themselves. But I would have liked to tell him that there is this principle of the emotional bank account: if you don't deposit into someone's account, there is nothing to withdraw.

So, there are "INSUFFICIENT FUNDS", Ray.

Anyway, I had a great day from the downloading aspect, hitting 785MB in Starbucks and an additional 15MB back home.

I was debating whether to stay overnight in JB and resume my binge early the next morning. But finally, my decision was not to be extravagant and save my money for a rainy day.

After all, I had just paid for RM 6 038 worth of shares, with two counters rising and two falling from my cost price.


I read a sign by the main road that reminded readers that " Life is a blank slate; it's what you choose to write on it."

Try as I might(mightily) to believe it wholeheartedly, I believe the truth is a refined version:
" Life may be a slate scratched up by others from the moment you were brought into this world, but you can choose to unscratch it, though it may take 30 years."

I guess the above version is adapted to fit my own peculiar circumstances; try being optimistic from the get-go when someone you hardly know(and was hired to take care of you) tries to suffocate you with a pillow in your defenceless infancy as their perverted version of fun.


AND that your so-called parents brushed it off until they discovered bite marks all over your body.

I'm a misogynist(think that is spelt correctly) for it's hard to erase that nightmare which stains my soul.

However, the detached contentment from the world that I felt this morning holds out some hope that I can overcome this emotional and psychological 'handicap'.

What I'm really trying to say is that people only see the external hardness which are like the natural calluses that protects that hands of a manual labourer from further damage.

In actual fact, my expressionless and rather cold exterior protects my warmer but more vulnerable self deep inside, which is fighting hard to be secure and happy, and has been for over two decades.

I could moon endlessly over how it could have been had I not been mistreated as an infant but it would be counterproductive and it would compromise the remaining seconds of my life, every single one of which is more precious than platinum or diamonds.

In fighting the gallant fight, I treasure the kindness of others, for they are as rare as gems.

There, I've experienced my cathartic release; I vow never to speak of it again.