Sup3rnality

I cannot say much right here at work lest I break down and cry.

But Pirate, I miss you already. Time with you has been brief, but you have added to my collection of happy memories. I am sorry you were accidentally locked out of your home where your siblings were and that you happened upon some poison and innocently ate it. I'm sorry you suffered a long cold night wracked with pain. I'm sorry we found you too late. And I'm sorry you died lonely in the clinic without the familiar faces of your family. I'm sorry I couldn't be there to say goodbye. Goodnight, Pirate.

Freddie Mercury would have been 66 today if he were still alive.

He may be gone, but his music lives on.

In memory of Freddie, and his AIDS charity, this is my contribution to the Freddie for a day programme:

• - Selamat Hari Raya, everyone :)
• - And happy Merdeka, too.
• - To those who know what I mean, the phases are over. I'm on my own. Liberating, yet scary. But here's to hoping I'll hold my own.
• - Setar was not forced to shut down, thank God. Was already teetering on the edge, but we were pulled back. So yes, salary salary salary. I can pay for my car, rent, petrol... I can afford to give my parents cash, to my siblings and my grandma, too, and help my mum with some funding for her trip to Holland. Alhamdulillah, that was a very huge sigh of relief. 
• - Thinking back on a previous entry and other scathing and unapologetic commentaries, I am not sorry for what I said. I feel what I feel and I cannot be sorry for them, lest I be a hypocrite to myself. It may hurt the feelings of some in the process, but as I've said, I write these words here as it is solely a medium of expression. I'm not interested in feedback or reactions towards what I write. And though it is for all to see, I write them thinking as if these are for my eyes only. So whatever nerve I may have struck, if anybody read it for that matter, you are entitled to your opinion and me, mine. Just don't step on my toes while you're at it.
• - Again I say, no matter what you think of me, I love my job, and I love where I work. In the same vein as the above point, if you have a problem with me, well, then don't talk to me. We'll get along so much better that way, by not communicating. I'm tired of rude/insensitive/ignorant remarks on my profession or the company I work for. You're not the one working there, so just shut up la right? Let me earn my living the way I see fit, and if you don't like it, then don't follow suit; and even better? Don't talk to me and criticise me. 
• - Looking forward to an impromptu trip to Langkawi (my colleagues and I impulsively bought a voucher off Groupon for a night's stay in Langkawi, we bought two for a two-nights' stay) in early October :)
• - This Raya, it had been nice being able to give than to receive. After so long, it's nice to see the roles reversed for once.
• - As these years pass, it's getting harder to explain the absence additions to the family. It's easier in my head, but not as easy on the ears of those who expect reasons.
• - On the first day of Raya, I woke up to the voice of the other half of me, separated by distance, but at one in heart. My Asdil's words never fails to light up my day, and it surely did.
• - Merdeka was almost forgotten, as predicted. A little sad, even though I'm not particularly one to celebrate it. 
• - My feline son Freddie went missing for 10 days (4 days before we left for KB and 6 days while we were in KB). Went into a state of sadness that I couldn't help feeling irritable for the first few days in KB. For that I was sorry. But my heard leapt when he was there starving in front of the house when we came back. He was so light and oh so manja. He most probably got chased by the dominant male cats in the area and he got lost and couldn't find his way back. He's been so scared to leave the house and his fur is constantly half fluffed up, like he's ready to get into battle mode. Tonight he got chased again and he got so scared he crapped himself. Poor baby. 
• - I like taking photos of things, and of myself with friends and family, but not really the type to ask someone to snap a pic of myself. I feel so odd doing that. I will camwhore alone in my own privacy, but never ask someone to take a pic of me if I can avoid it.
• - Back to work in a few hours. Time to save the nation. 

#17

I'm watching Hachiko, and it's pulling on the heartstring that broke the day my cat Sawadikap died. I'm not ashamed for saying a cat broke part of my heart which will never heal. I'm more ashamed that I grew up and put aside his stalwart friendship, his bond with me. I just hope that he knows that I'm sorry for making him wait for me to return. I'm sorry that he waited for me for so long, and waited through his sickness before he finally let go. I'm sorry it took me so long. I'm sorry I let you down. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you, Kap. I hope you forgive me. I love you, baby.

My mother and I were talking a while before we both went asleep, my father was out on rukun tetangga duty. We were laughing at the antics of our cat Hitam who was busy making himself comfortable on my mother's blanket; a guest who invited himself into the room and chose a spot without waiting for anyone's approval. And as we laughed, the subject of the story moved to a former companion of mine, Sawadikap, or Kap for short.

This year marks five years since his death, and yet talking about him still brings me to tears. I was saying how I don't believe in entirety the research that says cats are only affectionate to their owners as that is a survival instinct to ensure a steady supply of food. To some cats, maybe; but not cats like my Kap.

He was stalwart and true, a knight of a cat that never backed down from what he took to be his responsibility. His every-morning wake up calls at my bedroom door, escorting me downstairs and to my bus, his waiting at the gate for me to come home, walking me to my tuition teacher's house...all that and more. He was my companion, my friend, my protector...

My mother told me he waited everyday in front of the house on weekdays for me to come back from school; eventhough I was already in UIA by then...

And before he died, eventhough he was all bones and weak and almost lifeless, he waited for me...for weeks... And when I finally came back and called out to him, he came. He was waiting for me just one last time... He lifted himself up one last time to walk to me. And he never got up again once he collapsed in my arms. I held him for hours until the early morning's light, when he drifted away as his blue eyes bore into mine...

Sometimes, like tonight, as I cry at his memory, I think he's still waiting for me...

I miss him so much it hurts.

Love,
Hazlin

Tired from having squeezed my brain out for one exam, I was up to having another adventure out with my Twisties; a therapy in itself. So of course I did not give up the chance to have dinner with them one night. Yumi picked Lina, Ash and I and we proceeded to head towards Intai-intai.

Intai-intai is a small nook of a restaurant on the road towards Ampang. It really lives up to its name, because, situated along the road behind rows of car workshops and the like, no one would actually see it unless they intai (peek) behind them. There, one would see a quaint little restaurant that is built all around a very small lake, and has a nice cosy ambience to it; with the dim lights all around with a surreal feel to it, like it is detached from the busy world outside. Nice.

The four of us sat down and took a gander at the menu, which was varied and quite interesting, cos the spread was not the typical food one would find. The maitre 'd recommended some interesting selections and we mostly went with it.

It is always nice, of course, to enjoy good food with good company, as I always say. And the ambience of the place lent to us a much relaxed feel that made it all the sweeter.

If I recall correctly, Ash had Research Methodology finals the next morning, and he has yet to study. So we had to get him back. Yumi dropped Lina and I at one of the petrol stations just before IIUM and sent Ash back, while the two of us waited.

Yumi came back, picked us up and we headed to the Karak highway McDonald's at another petrol station. We ordered some foodstuff and we were there for many hours; just talking abot all sorts of things. It really was a heart to heart session between the three of us.. Towards morning, around 4am or so, we started getting a little sleepy and decided to adjourn to Yumi's place for some shut-eye.

Lina and I took the master room, and I remember something being asked about whether I was a sleep talker... Nope I wasn't, so lucky me. At some point Lina woke me up to ask me what was that sound. I spotted Cek Tom fidgeting about that was causing the noise. I pointed, and promptly feel back to sleep. I woke up rather early cos my Entrepreneur class lecturer was looking for my assignment. He found it, though. I took a bath, and feel asleep again. Only woke up again sometime mid-day...

To be continued in ep.9...

Love, Linzy~

Nighttime is usually reserved for family time. My dad would be back from a long day at work and we'll have dinner and all sit in the living room together. It's like an unwritten rule. We wouldn't be upstairs in the room or elsewhere. Even if we wanted to do something else other than watch tv, we would bring it downstairs to be in the living room; like how I'd be blogging while the my father, mother, brother and sister would be watching a movie or some other tv series.

Tonight we watched a movie called My Dog Skip, which is about a boy, Willie, acted by Frankie Muniz and his Terrier dog called Skip, short for Skipper. The movie is narrated by an older Willie (Harry Connick Jr.) looking back at his younger years starting from his 9th birthday, when he was first given Skip, and he tells of how Skip taught him about life. How with Skip by his side, he matured from boy to young man, became an insecure loner to one of the boys, got the courage to talk to the prettiest girl in town and , and mostly, taught him the value of friendship. Skip died when Willie was in Oxford.

I shed a few tears watching that movie, not because of the movie itself, but because I was reminded of a dear friend that I still miss so dearly.


Sawadikap was a mixed breed Siamese born sometime in 1998. He was born totally white, and developed his brown tips as he grew older. He was a great companion of mine. Loving, loyal, concerned; he never ceased to amaze me with the things he did in his love for me.

Every morning when I had to go to school, he knew the time when I'd come out of the room, cos he'll be there outside my bedroom door, ready to escort me downstairs. When we were downstairs, he'd be right on my heels, following my every move. And when I stood outside to wait for my bus, he would be there standing right with me, the companion by my side til I got on the bus, but not before I gave him a scratch under his chin.

When I got back, he'd be there, too, on the front porch anticipating my arrival. I was always a VIP with him around, with him by my side like a little bodyguard. But don't be fooled, he may be a cat, but he's tough and very muscley. The other cats were afraid of him. But with me, he was loving and took care of me, made sure I was safe. He even walked me to my tuition teacher's house, which was on the street behind mine, and he'll be waiting outside when I was done, and we'd race each other home; him chasing after me madly.

We were inseparable. He was my best friend whom made my life so cheerful each day. He was there through thick and thin. He loved sleeping on my chest or in the canopy of my caftan, he would insist on my picking him up and would roll around until I did, he licked my face when I cried, defended me from other cats and whatever else he deemed was his responsibility to me.

Then I went to MCIIUM, and then moved to Seremban. I hated Seremban and refused to take him there, confident that I would be in Shah Alam more and cos I didn't wanna traumatize him, taking him so far away. But there was where my mistake lay, and I have regrets til now.

I saw very little of him, and when my uncle did renovations to the house in Shah Alam, my Kap got poisoned from all the chemicals that was in the water puddles. Being stuck in MCIIUM and Seremban, it took me 2 weeks to actually go see him after my uncle first told me that Kap was sick. And when I did....

My Uncle told me that Kap already went missing for several days, and I was already fearing the worst, already crying with regret. I sat outside the house for a long time, calling out his name. After so long, he came hobbling back, hardly able to stand. As soon as he reached my arms, he collapsed into a heap, tired from his effort to walk all the way home.

He was dying by then. He was emaciated, skin and bones, and hardly any energy to even lift his head. I was crying non-stop, regret filling every space in my mind, wishing I was there sooner, wishing I had taken him to Seremban with me, wishing I had never neglected him... I took him home to Seremban that night, holding him close, whispering to him not to die, that I would take care of him. But as the night drew on, I knew he wasn't going to make it.

I was awake all night with him. First crying for him not to leave me, saying I was sorry over and over. Then as he looked at me with his wise eyes, tired and weary, I knew in his way he was saying goodbye. I reconciled with myself, all my regrets and all my sadness, and told him it was ok for him to go, that I'd be ok. I held him all night, as I cried, with him looking up at me. His eyes a blue of calm, which saddened me so.

In the morning, around 7am, I took my eyes off him for just a few minutes to open the door. When I turned around, I saw his body jerk, and then he was gone. I sat for a long time holding his lifeless body, crying into his fur.

I miss my Kap. Every now and then, when I am reminded of him, my heart aches, and I would feel that involuntary tear run down my cheeks. The stalwart loyalty he showed, his love and companionship, is something that's hard to find. I failed him in many ways, and yet, he still believed in me. The fact that he waited all that while for me to come home, pained me even more, knowing I should have been there sooner when he needed me most. I know I can say sorry over and over, but it'll never change a thing. I just hope you know it.

Some people may never understand the bond I have with my cats, the friendship and love we share... It's not something many people are privileged to have. But believe me, the pain is deep, and you never stop forgetting. But then, you remember the good times, and how they're always there for you, and you smile a little...Eventhough you know you'll never have them back. That's just how much they touch your life.

And I, will never stop remembering you, my Kap. Your unconditional love and loyalty you showed me taught me how to love even better, and most of all, to appreciate the things I have...before they're gone. I love you, Kap.

~Lin

My dear baby Spike,

it's been two years, and I still miss you so. A part of me is still left hollow from your absence in my life. I miss you. I still contemplate the many ways where things could be different from the now. How you could still be here. How I could return home and still hold you in my arms... Oh, how I miss you. I'm still sorry, I am so. I'm sorry for not being there when you needed me most. I am sorry for a million and one things I could have done differently... I know regrets mean nothing, but I do anyway. For that's all I can do with you not around.I know words will always stay as words, because I'll never have you back, dear. And my heart aches. I love you, dear.

Always will. I love you wherever you are.

Love, Me.

And sometimes things get so crazed that I don't see the path in front of me. I can't see the things staring at me in the face. I cannot see where all of this is going. Where this will be ten years down the line. Where I'll be. What I'll do. I'm so blinded. Sometimes I cannot really see what I want.

And I'm sorry for comparing. I'm sorry I opened only a small space in my heart for fear of hurt. For fear that again I'd spiral down this long, lonely slope again and forget who I am. I'm sorry that I forgot I have a heart big enough to accomodate the world. I'm sorry I forgot. I'm sorry you found me at the wrong time. I'm sorry I never took long enough to get to know you, my defences were built too high up for you then.

It lies heavy in me this emptiness. A burden that is hollow. And I seem to have forgotten what fits there. I've forgotten what fills the spaces when I'm on my own. Sometimes I knock on occupied homes just to know someone's in there. And when they come to the door, I don't know what to say. I smile at them and wish I had the words that makes up the particles of myself, but I can't. And this is your doing. No, sorry, I won't put the blame on you. It is my doing, because of losing you. And you, too. And oh yes, you.

And I wish things were different. But I know I can say it a thousand times over, hell, I have said it a thousand times over; and I'll still be in the middle of this hollow room. But I would, you know; I would have done the things I should have. Then you wouldn't have been left out in the cold. You would't have needed to try. I would have already been there before you say anything.

And again and again, these words would only remain as words. Horses don't ride in these space of thoughts. And even if they did, they'd have nowhere to go. No reason to run. They'd be all at a standstill.

And time is at a standstill. There'd still be this vacuum even as the seconds tick by. Waiting for a moment. Waiting. And I'd leave this door open for you. This door will always be open for you.

Love, Lin~

P/s: And all that you think you know, isn't necessarily what is.

It's been a year, love. It's been a long, long year. Such a gaping wide space of time in which you were not in. Your absence have left me so empty; and it's been so hard for me to fill that void.

At times I feel so ashamed, letting myself be in the mess I'm in. Sometimes I so alone, even in a crowd full of people. At times I hate the eyes on me, hate the discomfort. And everyday, at the end of the day, like those days when you were there, I seek that refuge that cancels out every trace of displacement I feel in myself. But you're no longer there. I can no longer find myself in the arms of the comfort that you offered up to me without discrimination, without judgment. And it pains me.

My words have been swallowed up since you were gone. I find myself unable to express myself with the words that are there in my head. Everything seems irrelevant. Feelings became irrelevant. What use were there if all I could use them for sadness and then not have any comfort afterwards? I was mute for so long. I am still mute.

I miss you so much. I have so much emptiness in me. I am so weak. I never thought things could be this way. Always thought that many years from then you would still be by my side, ever constant, stalwart. My comfort.

I swear I could not find the words. These words hold no weight to ever say how life has been without you. How much I miss you. How much I love you. There are no words, and no words can possibly be created.

I love you. I think of you all the time. I hear you, I dream of you and nothing can ever ease the pain of losing you. No amount of tears can ever bring you back. And it makes me ache so so much.

I am sorry for not being there. I am sorry that you were alone when you left. I am sorry I could not protect you. I am so sorry I could not take away your pain. I am sorry for your stolen years.
I'm sorry for the million of things I could have done differently. I'm sorry that you're so cold now. I'm sorry that these words will never do anything, and they'll just remain words.
I miss you. And I'll always love you. I hope you're happy where you are.

Love you always, Lin~

"The more you live in this world,the more you see how apart from it you really are."
- Whistler, Becoming 1 Season 2

I think I now see the disease that has slowly been making me feel more and more hollow as each day passes. Not emptying the words into this chosen vessel of mine makes it worse I suppose; filling emptiness with emotions that are not made flesh... That's a recipe for disaster if you are me.

Yes, the disease... It's possible that I don't need to mention the incident that caused so much despair in me. It's been a constant theme throughout the past few months, I need not cause myself so much heartache. I've exhausted enough tears and energy into expressing them both in words and in actions to want to mention it again. It starts there, with my loss.

I made myself detached after that, not wanting to live in the now and having to connect with everything and everyone around me. I wanted to be left alone. Well, not really. I wanted to be held so badly but I'd rather be alone than be surrounded by half-hearted attempts at comfort or words that hold no understanding. I wanted so much to just drift away into my own mind.
Since then, I've been finding a way to feel again. And I managed that after a long talk with a dear friend over Italian food and drinks. He made me find that spark again and I see it, and now I need to catch up with it.

Now this is where the problem lies. After so long of lying so dormant without my usual zest, I've found myself a bit worse for wear from he lack of use. The second hand emotions that have been feeding me with me on my back has made me sluggish with rust.

I was awake yet catatonic, now I have to remember how to function normally again.

I realize that I was absent from the world this whole length of time. I think I stopped believing for a while; not in terms of faith but the belief in ever finding comfort or my belief that I can keep on being all that I believe I am (does that make sense?). I think I lost me, and I've found me now...It's just that I have to put the pieces back together.

I guess I believed that my strength will never wane. I know deep down that that's not realistic, one can't possibly expect something to last. But I did not expect things to go that way. But then again, possibly it's a test of sorts for me.

It's like how Angel felt in TCToNC Ep6S5. He felt so disconnected and disheartened that he forgot himself. He stopped believing in the Shanshu Prophecy. He felt like it was all useless and that it was just some fairytale story to make things seem that it will all be shiny at the end of all things.

And that was how I felt. I got so disconnected that I felt so weary and jaded and stopped believing in a part of myself that keeps me going.

So now, it's about me taking hold of the wheel again. It's time to come back to the world and do myself justice again. And most importantly, I must begin writing again. For ultimately, it was my lack of expression that led me down deeper into my gloom. And this is how it begins again....I hope.

Love, Lin~

"Love keeps her in the air when she ought to fall down...tells you she's hurting before she keels."
- Capt. Mal Reynolds, "Serenity"

When my world falls down, and I cannot be the strong person people always want me to be, all I really want is for someone to be strong for me. Because when I cannot bear the weight, I buckle and stoop; and I need a helping hand to take the weight off of my shoulders.

I love every one of my friends. And with every strength that I have in me I would do what I can to make them happy and make it easy for them to live day to day in a world so full of adversities. And when they cannot stand on their two feet, heck, I'd give them mine.

Rarely have I been in need to be on the receiving end of such strength; a kind of stability, a rock that grounds me when I'm about to drift away. I like solving my own problems, facing my own demons; moreover, I don't like bothering people with the things that are troubling me.

But there are times when even the strongest fall. And I, I'm only human, I fall sometimes. And there are times I fall so hard I can't find the strength in me to get back up.

I cannot be expected to walk upright all the time. We all have crosses to bear. And I sometimes need time and understanding and comfort and love to gather myself again to get on and live. I cannot be strong all the time. Sometimes *I* need strength.

So Alfred, this one's for you: Thank you for understanding me when no one else would or could. Thank you for giving me strength and reminding me that I have strength. Thank you for reminding me about who I am when I thought I've lost myself. Thank you for the lunch+dinner and the four hour++ conversation. Love you loads.

Love, Lin~

I feel disappointed that I'm at the end of my hoidays and I still have not managed to come up with some good piece of writing. Troubles me to the bone.

A voice in my mind told me that probably my words got scared away. I haven't been writing anything proper since July, since...well, I lost my baby. And I figure that is a huge part of it. Seems like I've lost alot of will to actually put my feelings into paper. Because whenever I do, I feel the strong urge to pour my pain, which is still so very strong. And whenever I do, I would break down and lose my senses and not be abe to do anything else...So I suppose yeah, that's exactly it.

I still hurt. Only God knows how many times I've cried since I went back to Kulim. Seeing the places where he would sleep, where he would eat, remembering one thing to another; it tears me up inside. I look out at his grave every day, say things to him, tell him goodnight or good mornnig or just hi. Sometimes I tell him I love him and when I'm feeing particularly broken hearted, I tell him sorry over and over. God, it hurts so bad. And I cannot help but refrain myself from having to write this all down whenever I feel a flow of words coming on. And when I do, well...I cry like I'm doing now.

Love, Lin~

My father was away the day Spike died. He was in Sarawak on business and was not around to see Spike one last time. When my mum called him, crying on the phone to tell him that their youngest baby was gone, he asked her to videotape Spike in his eternal slumber. That was over 4 months ago.

For Eid, my family and I headed back to my mum's hometown in Kelantan. My dad brought the videocam with him just in case, who knows what might happen that might require immortalizing it in video? True enough, there were miscellaneous incidents that were so memorable to let them be forgotten with time.

So they were recorded into the videocam and when we got to Shah Alam to drop me off, my uncle and aunt asked to see it. My dad did the necessary rigging and we all sat around the living room to watch.

Since my dad rewinded the whole tape, we watched thevideo from the beginning, starting from a footage of displays from the Toy Museum in Penang. We were happily watching the videos when the part in the Toy Museum ended. The screen went all static-y and then flashed to another part of the tape. This was the part of Spike.

I saw him spread on the floor bleeding...I heard the bell of his collar jingling as my sister held it. I shut my eyes tight and covered my ears as hard as I can and shouted to no one in particular to shut it off. Sadly, no one moved fast enough and the memory of my baby Spike lying lifeless was tattooed in my mind.

I hated how no one reacted sensitively enough to stop my suffering. I know my mum had to actually see him dead, had to go through it alone...but God, I'm having a hard time coming to terms with this unbearable loss until now; I did not need the pain to come back tenfold. My mum could have done something rather than sit there transfixed and immobilized.

No one came to my aid as I cried out with such desperation to switch it off. Only my brother chided my mum for not erasing it off the tape and long after it was too late to blot it out of my memory, my dad came to fastforward the tape. By then I was running to my room, closed the door and rushing to the bathroom sink. I needed to shock my conciousness out of the memory with a splash of cold water to the face.

I stood there in front of the sink, looking at the mirror and seeing a person who has been hurting for so many months, finding no comfort from the emptiness of losing someone who meant so much.

I've been hurting so long and unable to find release that it's been eating me up inside. No amount of tears have made this feeling lessen. Grief engulfs me, embracing me and unwilling to let go.

***********

I can be the rock that holds people down, the medium in which pain flows through; I am a willing vessel for it, for I cannot stand to see everyone around me in pain. But when it comes to myself and the matters of the heart, despite me insisting that I hold them all in, what I really want is my own vessel to spill it all into.

I try to take on too much. I am the spiritus, animus, sophus and manus. All combined in one and leaving none for others to take. I prefer it that I am all, preferring to take all the burden upon my back. Both because I know that I am stong enough to wield it and because I need to be occupied with everything else to be the lion, so to not let emotions get the better of me.

After all is said and done, the truth is, I am a comfortador.

All that holding people together, the want to see it through with others...One would see all of those things in me; but the thing is, under all that layers that I hide under, I myself am a seeker of a kitestring. This kite wants to be tethered and not fly too far.

When all falls down, I am a comfortador.

And I have yet to find what I'm looking for. Or maybe I have, and I've let it go. And sometimes I wonder whether I'll ever find it.

My emotions I keep in check all the time, not letting anyone on the outside bear witness to how raw I can lay them out. I keep them in me, hold it inside; for the sake of being the Heart. And being the Hand, I cannot afford to let my emotions get in the way of the work that I have to do. And my mind and spirit, it's that reason too; the want for my emotions to not interfere with what needs to be done.

So here I am, the comfortador. Looking for the one thing in my life that keeps eluding me and yet the same thing that I give to others freely without prejudice.

I hope I find it one day or, I hope I find it again. I'm starting to feel the cold creeping into me. I'm starting to feel the numbness that comes with it, and it's only on rare ocassions that warmth radiates through and melts the ice.

I am a Comfortador, but all you choose to see is my weakness. This does not make me weak nor breakable nor insignificant nor inferior nor just a girl. It makes me the person I am. It makes me human. Can I say the same for you?

Love, Lin~