Journey of a Dream

Letchumi and Yoges (not their real names) must be sneezing all the way in the morning yesterday. Nope they were not in the office, they were either at home or performing some rituals at the temple due to deepavali. Yet the moment I walked into the recording section, Ms Saw (not real name) was bombarding me with all sorts of misdeeds Letchumi did. Letchumi sent wrong parcels to Singapore. Letchumi could not look at people when people were talking to her. Letchumi starts packing at 4.30pm everyday, oblivious of the work that needs doing. Letchumi did this, Letchumi did that.

Before I could escape the room, Fatimah (not her real name), who had been having rows with Yoges for over 10 years, started feeding me with Yoges' misdeeds, how she bergayut on the phone. How her phone calls are due to her ineffectiveness in handling her work. How her clients from the same company are calling her 10 times a day asking for the same thing, and hence, making her look busy when she really isn't. Just then, the phone rang. It was for Yoges but since she was not around, I had to deputise her work and that would include picking up her calls. It was the 5th call of the day and it was only 11am. I was growing weary and tired of making up for her ineffective work. I was frustrated with the both of them in my heart. I was on the verge of diving in the conversation.

Ms Saw couldn't agree more and threw a few more arrows at Yoges. I could no longer keep quiet. The more I kept quiet, the more I would be regarded as sitting on the fence. The fence is the most dangerous place to stand. But I wasn't in the same position as them. If I was to say something, it better be for the betterment of the company. Afterall, I am the so called manager and I am responsible for my subordinate's behaviors. I nodded a number of times, and then suggested ways how we could improve our work. But they were just not ready to give up. They went on and on.

After getting my business done there, I escaped to the sanctity of my room. Backstabbing, gossip, bad-mouthing...I suddenly remembered what the Bible said about it. The tongue is the most dangerous organ in the body. If we do not control it, it will control us. I am glad I fled.

What am I doing at 12am in the morning? I just have too many thoughts.

1. I am still thinking about Chow Chow and MC. If the story is true, I really admire Chow Chow and MC for sharing their life to the point of death. Unfortunately it only happens in dramas cos in real life...

2... people might not even want to listen when you want to share your heart out cos ppl simply don't care such that I have shed a few tears or two that....

3... I can't wait to pack my bags and leave for Abu Dhabi. LK officially invited me today. I want to bathe in the mud of Dead Sea and if I am constantly unhappy, I rather be unhappily rich than be unhappily poor for...

4... at least when I am unhappily rich, I can indulge in shopping therapy that always make me feel better. I don't have to decide whether I want a High Sierra backpack or a Samsonite luggage cos I can have both which reminds me...

5... that there are better times ahead; such as my much awaited Hong Kong trip in Jan and Bali trip in Jul and probably a Dubai and Abu Dhabi trip in Dec, which by then, I hope I can secure a job in some cari gali petroliam company which makes me bucket- loads- of- money rich...

6... which comes with a price, which is to be tanned till I get that hitam manis look which LK said I can bathe in a bathtub of SKII to make my skin fair again...

7...so rich that I can bring Mum and Dad to migrate there (if they do not mind the culture differences). I want to sponsor my girlfriends to come here every year. When SL is so sick of her patients she can come and recuperate and when Jol is tired with her job, she can come here to rejuvenate with shopping therapy...

8... But that makes me think, how about my dear Oreo? My church and the vision? My past and everyone and everything I've ever loved?

9... Maybe then I need Ps Mike to minister to me. Cos I feel cheated and so disappointed with someone whom I thought cared but turns out to be just any Tom, Dick and Harry. But I suppose when someone can conveniently forget me when my heart cries out to them, why should I remember?

10. But this time I promise not to fall and drink my sorrows away cos I know that this is not permanent cos Jesus cares for every tear I have shed. There will be a rainbow tomorrow. There will be a smile.

What am I doing 5am in the morning? Having slept so late I can't sleep still? What am I gonna tomorrow? I am gonna be a zombie but boss won't take that as a reason. At 5am in the morning I wish to disappear into the thin air and never to return again. I am not as strong as I preach to be. But I am learning. Maybe that is the way God chastises His little preacher in S8 - whatever I've preached I've to learn and live twice as much. Maybe it's the last point - patience and prayer. Whatever that is I am discouraged. But quoting myself, I can't stay in that disappointment too long. "When you are going through hell, don't stop." I'm not sure how that is suppose to work but I guess a strong person is a person who can encourage himself/herself.

So I am feeling sick at heart and what is the reason? The thing is I don't even know what exactly is that. I feel guilty for feeling but the day I cease to feel is the day I cease to be a human. I am not that mood cloud walking around - that's good enough right?

Again, I've said nobody wants to be a Jennifer Garner in 13 Going on 30. Nobody wants to turn old overnight. But for a little moment I wish I have come to the end of my life - where God praises me to be a good and faihtful person.

I've almost always followed rules. When it is time to sit I sit. When it's time to stand I stand. I follow by the book. I almost cried when others cried. I am that mechanical.

But I think I know. I am disgusted with myself. I long for someone to surprise me on my birthday. But this year a SMS surprised me. I was supposed to pay for my birthday dinner. So on my birthday morning I cried on Jol's bed. The night before the were no surprises. Only bacardi to drown my sorrows away. There were only Jol and I. As always.

When I wake up at 7am I expect no one to comfort me. Only a panda on the mirror to greet me. I long to love and be loved in return. Maybe God has destined the one to be Oreo. Is that all? Ok I am supposed to encourage myself. A song repeatedly minister to me. It's called "Hosanna" and I particularly like the bridge. Here it goes:

I have no appetite since this morning. I ate a piece of kuih lapis which TK bought from Jakarta, and then I couldn't take any more in. Now I force myself with an orange. I really need the sugar and fiber. Ok maybe I am amplifying my emotions. The drama queen is back so what is the reason?

Maybe to the fact that my friends are away from me in far far away lands. More than 10 coursemates of mine are in Singapore. Not that I really care, but one of the dearest I had is there. Friendships are never the same again. I can't get through the names enough. In a nutshell, my friends are spread all over the world. Steph and Jinny in UK, bro is going to Dubai to work, Jolene says she wants to go NZ/Aussie... the list goes on and on.

At the end of the day, I still have my family and Oreo with me. That thought is comforting enough. Personally, I have the same thoughts to leave too. But in the end, I did not. I decided that should I leave, it is due to the right motive.

Few years back, I was very against ppl leaving, especially church. I felt that with a vision so good, why would anyone leave? As years went by, I began to see more things and find that people are generally not satisfied. Most will say that Malaysia is going the drains, and there is no fair opportunities for us with this skin colour. Lately I was reading a friend's blog, she spent 5 years in Ireland doing medicine. In the end, Ireland was more like a home to her than Malaysia. She is not a Malaysian to begin with, but I remember her being so passionate and assimilated into the culture. She used talk to every Tom, Dick and Harry but this time when I saw her at the lobby, she looked so asing and uncomfortable.

Ok until here I do not know how to continue. I shall add something later.

One day, as I bowed worshipping God, He impressed upon my heart that He hates to see me grieve. I think I had been unknowingly grieving for the past 2 years. Grief is a very harsh word but it is not an understatement. So why did I grieve? God wouldn't tell me not to grieve if I wasn't grieving. It began 2 years ago when I had an accident after EMERGE. At the time, I felt so horrible and wondered why such thing happened to me. I had subconjunctiva hemorrhage on my eye. With my eyes dilated, I walked in the Trauma and Kecemasan ward, I couldn't see properly and the nurse scolded me on why I couln't walk on my own. I just felt so alone at that time. I wondered why such a thing happened when I had just finished attending EMERGE and arranging transport for everyone during the wee hours of EMERGE. Of course, it didn't end there. I found someone whom I thought could end my misery. I fell head on and after 2 years, I can hardly rise from my fall. People often thought I tagged behind because of status, but it was never that. This person treats me like a string to pull whenever he likes to. Even after I decided that I should no longer be his string, the hurt felt so deep.

After knowing him, I feel very undeserving. I reasoned that the only reason he treats me like this is because I am not good enough. I lived with this stigma for 2 years. It seemed like 1000 good things ppl say about me will never make up to how he treats me. I want to hide under the pillow, retreat into my cave.

I realise that God does not want me to live in this kind of defeated life. A song says, "show me how to live like you have loved me." It sruck me so hard. Am I living a life that portrays God's love for me? I see the light at the end of the tunnel.

With this I just want to say,

"Worship is not just when God is first but when God is ONLY." As long as I follow Him close, He will reveal the deep things of heaven to me.

Exactly 2 years ago, I was very attracted to ppl with good looks, charms and wits. Not that it is wrong, but I often look at their strength, often neglecting their weaknesses. As a result, I turned out to be a very imbalance person. I sought to accept their approval, and would sometimes compromise just to accomodate them. I knew such ppl was not what I needed, yet that was very much I what wanted.

I am thankful to say now that I finally came to my senses. I can't be immoral just because they are. I am not a mold for them, but I am a mold for God. I finally aligned what I need with what I want.

For the past one year, I hardly posted anything. I am not surprised if anyone stopped being a follower of this blog. Life had been mundane, I had been working, and then more work. I contemplated, and had a zillion times of soul searching. I can't comprehend what exactly I need to do. There had been happier times, let's just say. In between the mundaneness I appreciate the night outs with my besties, be it a movie or elbowing at Jol-and- Amy- knows- where. I love Jol even more (I say this cos I know she won't read it). And for Siew Lee, I just want to thank her for all the years of friendship. She trusted in me when I couldn't trust myself. And the things that I desire so much, they are still desires. But I must applaud myself for having overcome many things, such as what started as a crush back in EMERGE 2006.

OK back to the topic, Ps Kong preached a mighty message on Saturday night. This year EMERGE, there were not many sessions with Ps Kong. But it was one that I needed. I have heard for countless times to pray, read the Bible, fast, though the message is about this, so ordinary yet it was delivered in such extraordinary power. I must admit that this is one area that I have neglected.

As I grow older, the less happy I become. Troubles and burdens are ever so real. Fear and disappointment robbed me of my joy. A future and a hope, it's something that I almost stopped believing. Instead, I believe that I am good for nothing. The trauma and stigma that I lived with the past 2 years, I wonder if they would ever heal. When I thought it would heal, the scar opened up a few inches more.

Today, I decided that I must begin once again. And it was so powerful. I felt God reaffirming me with His love. And this journey must go on for a long long time till eternity.

I am not really an emo person especially at work. Though sometimes I lose my cool when things are not done properly, I control my emotions so well that when I am up in my room, everything is alright again. I can still do my work, continue my routine.. but today, I just feel powerless and defenseless. I trembled and couldn't focus on doing anything. My heart is divided. How come it feels like I am a puppet being pulled about? Just that I am not quite a puppet.

I had two very daunting dreams lately on 2 consequtive nights. One was a dream so sweet yet I do not desire it coming to past and it never will, and another a nightmare which haunts me with my greatest fear.

Dream One
Two years after Pre U has ended, in a very unlikely circumstance, I started tutoring him Chemistry like he used to for me. And two years hence, he found me a changed person; a lot more committed with my work than the playful girl I was. At one class, our lips met in a lock and we began once again.

Dream Two
Someone announced that he is getting married. And his wedding will be broadcast live. I declined to attend his church wedding, but somehow, I was stuck with watching his wedding on TV. The broadcaster interviews the happy couple, the proud parents, and I was at home struck with my greatest fear, to watch someone I once loved so dearly marrying someone else.

2 nights, 2 dreams, 2 different person, of revisiting the past and wondering what the future will be.

Ok I have never done this in my life. But here's a promo for hedzri for Cleo's Most Eligible Bachelor competition.

I'll tell you 5 reasons why you should vote for him:

As the car door slammed behind her, a tinge of sadness filled the early morning air, but it was not just the air, instead it was the emotional door that John had slammed once and for all all, closing every opportunity of reconciliation. As Sue walked into the house and John's car already out of sight, she reminisced on what went wrong during that night that seemed so surreal with all the smoke and intoxication. She was baffled.

It could be well said that it was a date, perhaps a two - friends - meeting - after - such - a - long - long - time kind of thing, but more accurately, it was a disaster. She remember being picked up at 5, and John had been friendly, but by 11pm, it was a totally different story. The friendliness and warmth has turned into coldness and self - absorption. Had John turned bipolar or whatever that is (the author is not very good with medical cliche)? Had it been Nicholas Smith, George Smith, or even Maddox Smith (all suppotitious, non - existent persons) for that matter, it would have been debatable. But for John Smith, Sue should have expected it.

John Smith, Dr. A man of intelligence. A man that for too much intelligence, he turned arrogant. A man who believes that 25 is the age to bang all the women he could possibly bang. A man who thought he has seen it all, done it all when indeed, it was quite the opposite. A man of folly.

Sue Gordon, only a Miss. An imbecile woman who believed that every human's nature began as good. The more she wanted to put her best, the more it failed; she had it all wrong. It wasn't a show to impress someone. It was about the man she had long sufferingly loved, waited, and devoted much time to prayer. And when at one point when the preacher asked what was the one thing she would ask for, it was about John.

He had it all wrong too; she wanted to become Mrs Smith but it was not in her slightest to become Mrs Dr Smith. He had it wrong. John's silence had broken the feeble heart of Sue's, and he hadn't got any initiative to mend it back. She had loved much, but with all the love she hated even more. The pain that for such a time would not heal, Sue would often find it stitched but for no apparent reason, the wound opened up again. Now the door is shut forever!