Padd Solutions

It's one of those days when I'm reminded that no matter who you are with, you are truly alone.

I'm not going to wallow in darkness about how shitty and lonesome life is but I will allow myself a moment of silence for an inevitable loss. Life's too short to sweat too much about shit that don't last.

This feeling usually comes to me when I get fucked over by a friend. Then I realize, really, you have no one.

And I, is all I need. I say this with the least defiance and retaliation.

So dear friend, for reasons I cannot fathom, I accept your actions with love and light.

Well, hello there. It's been a while writing to myself for no rhyme nor reason.

Yesterday, Mai and I were discussing birthday plans for December since both ours' and Zul's birthday fall under the same month. What's what is still in need of further discussion but we've come up with a theme. A geeky one.

I'm thinking centre-parting hair, nerdy specs, high waisted pants, tucked-in shirts, snorts included. Anything society defines as fug. It was actually Mai's brilliant idea <3!

Recently, I've had some misfortune with some cool people whose world is wrapped around their precious little head. Cool people with their carefully calculated self-image, minus basic human courtesy. Urgh.

Vanity is insanity........... right after I reapply my makeup for the 10th time.

Neil Gaiman has always been my favourite author. I consider him to be the David Copperfield of authors for all things weird and awesome.

I knew somewhere last month that Neil Gaiman is coming for Singapore Writers Festival. Due to my own complacency, I skipped googling for details immediately. I had no idea until yesterday that it was a ticketed event.

I hate you world (There goes a dollar in the hate bank). You know best to kick a man when he's down.

Now, all there is left to do is play the alternative role of the bitter heart.

My Malaysia roadtrip was really tiring. The highlights were that we dined in the clouds, played go-kart, climbed hills, went to the night safari and ate well. The lesson learnt here is that fun does not come in the absence of sleep. Never again will I be so selfish to disobey my body for my social needs.

Speaking of selfish, I guess selfish people have too little in their lives. They hold on to whatever they have, fearing if they let something go, they might actually lose themselves. My condolences to your inadequecy.

I hope whatever it is you're holding on to is worth it. After all, you get what you give.

Love possesses nothing, nor will it ever be possessed.

Today, a friend passed a comment while he was trying to make sense of certain things and I got offended. His innocent remark was like a water drop in a puddle, creating a ripple effect in my mind. Though I didn't react, I got all paranoid and the self-loathing began to grow.

Then it hit me, I was PMSing. Bloody hell, it was messing with my head. After careful consideration, I have decided to remedy all my hateful thoughts.

I shall refrain from feeling and using the word hate altogether. Every time I have a relapse, I would stick a dollar in my hate bank. This way, I can collate my statistics on hate and hence measure it, study it etc.

I know that at the end of my silly little experiment, the money should be put to a greater use like donating to charity but hey, I am a pauper. I'm still selfish and that dough can really help in super-pauper days.

If this is a way of saving money, then I have to falter in order to succeed. Thus, reinforcing that money is the root of all evil. Oh, the beauty of the mind of a simpleton.

Hmmmm, this idea clearly needs more work but its a start. These words I speak, I commit to like a crime, I hope.

- love and light, adrenalene

When the daylight crept into the window, Arlette bid good day to the morning. Arlette loved her Saturdays, it was time to catch up with friends, read, laze and waste away the day. She reached out for her laptop and settled it in her arm's good grace.

She logged in to a familiar social networking site and saw familiar faces. The girl who took self-portraits of herself, looking pretty and mean, with the caption "I don't care what you think or say about me, I'm beautiful." The self-proclaimed narcissist. The oxymoron. Gosh, why would she even bother taking countless pictures with the same pose if she didn't care what others thought about her.

Arlette looked further into the girl's profile. She read that the girl had her similar interests and like a smack on the head, Arlette realized that she was almost a carbon copy of that girl. The same books, the same music, the same movies.

These were the things that Arlette would talk about whenever she had conversations with someone. She had calculated thoughts and dignified opinions on these matters, enough to convince people that she was worthy of something she wasn't so sure of. They gave her a sense of who she is.

But which came first? Did she identify with these things or did she gain identity from these things?

She was disturbed not because someone shared her same social portfolio, but because she had loaned an identity from her thoughts and opinions about these movies, music and books. Arlette knew she was not her mind nor her heart but more like a conscious soul who had been sleeping for too long.

Arlette understood that humans, like products, have shelf lives. We were manufactured from the same template, varying only in expiration date and production mistakes. Given that the majority of us meet our basic needs, we have the luxury to fight to be different. So, we fight but when it all falls down, we're generally the same.

Hence, the difference we make in our lives is not how we disguise in our likes and dislikes, but it is the strength we find to deal with our production mistakes, our imperfections. She cheekily looked for an old awful photograph of herself and replaced her avatar, as if signifying she was way okay to go head to head with her weaknesses. Arlette smiled in acknowledgement of her many imperfections, knowing it would take a while to get there but this was a good beginning.