Masquerade Chronicles

Posted in Fairy's Tale with tags , on November 6, 2009 by cleffairy

Some of you were quite concern about me as I appeared to feel stressful and in distress lately, and for that, I thank whatever power above that there are people who cares for me genuinely.

Do not worry about me. I’m expressing myself in a rather constructive way.

This is what I’ve been doing:

Bookcover

Yeah… been at it since 1st November 2009. Writing a novel. Writing therapy is good, I must say. I get to kill and revive people as I pleased. And here’s an excerpt from my novel this year, and I’ll be damned if I don’t finish this one this year!

A dark, shadowy figure sat on a tree watched a sleeping young lady from afar under the moonlight through her window. The beautiful lady slept peacefully while the one who was observing her jumped down from the tree branch that he’s latching swiftly, as swift as the wind. Sadness and grief followed his footsteps as he silently walked beneath the silvery moonlight. He could not bear watching her any longer. It breaks his heart badly.

“Sire?” a voice squeaked out, breaking the silence of the night. The man did not startle despite of the invincibility of the owner’s voice.

“She couldn’t remember me….she couldn’t, Zephyr…she couldn’t, and she wouldn’t” a smooth voice replied, shattering the silence around them. The voice was almost inaudible, as if his words were not meant to be heard by anyone.

Wind started to blow, engulfing the dark figure and his supposedly companion, revealing a very handsome young man and a winged horse. The man was wearing a cloak, shielding him from the cold. Such strange picture against the modern world setting, as if the pair just came out from a strange world, or rather, a fairytale story.

As a car drove by and almost hit the two figure. The winged horse leap and took flight and soared high in the sky, causing the driver who witnessed the whole process to watch in disbelief with his jaw gaping open.

“So what are you going to do, Your Highness? The Queen could not remember you anymore…her people needs her…” the horse said and once again, breaking the still of the night as the man on his back patted the horse’s head softly. Navigating away from the sparkling city, the pair bump into the clouds, and as it burst, a lush world came into view. A beautiful world that is far from modern or tainted with the buzzing vehicles.

“As what I always did, Zephyr, I will claim her. I will claim her all over again, and she will remember what I meant to her.” the man said, and his words were like a vow. He definitely meant to do it.

I don’t usually put up my work in progress for display, but I’m in need of constructive criticism, cuz my novel is in the danger of being nothing but a fluff romance. So, comments, anybody?

Cleffairy: I know the book cover sucks. Hey, I’m no graphic artist. LOL…I’d be glad, though, if someone out there who is a graphic artist would care to ‘donate’ me a book cover if I ever to publish it.

Najib vs. Rosmah…

Posted in A Penny For Your Thoughts, Current Issue with tags , , , , on November 5, 2009 by cleffairy

I was procrastinating from writing my NaNoWriMo novel again when I saw this, and I had to say, Malaysian  says the darndest thing.

Have a look on the vid where people are asked on their opinion on who is more charming, Najib or Rosmah.

So, peeps, who is more charming, Najib or Rosmah? And why?

Cleffairy: I got to love Nurul Izzah Anwar’s answer to the question. Funny, but true. Najib does have a wonderful smile, even though he doesn’t mean it.

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Why I Love My Cat

Posted in A Penny For Your Thoughts, Fairy's Tale, Time Heals What Love And Reason Cannot with tags , , , , , , , on November 2, 2009 by cleffairy

Image062

Usually, I don’t do random entries that will sound pathetic and childish like this. But I am very much in need for a writing therapy at the moment, because I am not happy and definitely feeling down. I’ve been through a lot this year, and I can definitely say that this is one of my worst year ever.

Too many things happened, and I sometimes wished for that there’s more than 24 hours a day. Time is simply not enough, and I tend to wonder if I am having a post traumatic stress, seeing how often I feel so down and depressed since the fire happened.

Long long time ago, I never like any animals to keep as pet. Most of them stinks and smell like poo all the time, and not to mention if it’s a feline or a canine, they need treatments and grooming pretty often too.

I adopted a stray kitten 3 month ago. I did not even know why I brought it home. I really did not know why. It’s not even cute to even begin with. The kitty, whom I called Meow Meow looks like a New Zealand dairy cow with the patchy black fur. But I suppose it is fate that Meow Meow comes to live with me for me and my entire family owe her our lives. To cut the story short, she saved us from the fire that burned down my house on 18th July 2008- four days after I brought her home. I suppose, she’s pretty much godsent.

I was no animal lover, but I came to realize that pets could bring so much joy and serenity to the soul. I used to think that cats are stupid creature that vomits furball everywhere and poop around, but boy was I wrong. My kitty learned to use the toilet all by herself, and all I need to do was just flush the toilet each time she poop or pee. She’s pretty clever for a not so cute kitten.

There’s a few things that I noticed about Meow Meow. Among them is she loves to watch superheroes shows and old shows like Knight Rider and Air Wolf. She’s pretty choosy when it comes to food, and prefers to eat wet food more than the nasty dry pet food for cats. If I did not bathe her at least once a week, she’ll get very uncomfortable and bites and scratch around angrily.

Meow Meow also loves to be petted and hugged, and when it’s raining or storming outside, she’ll stick to me or my husband like a glue. I used to think that kittens only loves to chase yarn balls, but Meow Meow is different. She love all sort of children’s toys and loves to see picture books and not to mention watch cartoon. Sometimes, she even behaved like a little girl. She’ll want blanket and tends to hug little soft toys when she sleeps.

These days, Meow Meow would give me a wake up call. She would lick my face in the morning and if I still refused to get my lazy butt up from the bed, she’ll claw me. I never knew that I could love a little kitten so much that sometimes I treat her like my own daughter.

I could list down many reasons why I love Meow Meow. But at the end of the day, having someone to tell my problems to and would keep my secrets safe tops the list. For what it’s worth, I am sure glad and thankful that I brought Meow Meow home.

 

Cleffairy: Sometimes, animals would understand you better than human. Well, at least they won’t backstab you, scold you or even judge you for what you did and did not do. At least, pet’s love and devotion for you is always genuine.

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Apek and The Pope

Posted in A Penny For Your Thoughts with tags , , , , on October 28, 2009 by cleffairy

Originally, I intended to write on something heavier, but then again, I realized that I am too stressed up to do so, and in desperate need to lighten up. So allow me to share a joke sent to me a while ago.

 

HOW THE CHINESE STAY PUT IN ITALY

 

About a century or two ago, the Pope decided that all the Chinese had to leave Italy. Naturally there was a big uproar from the Chinese community.

 

So the Pope made a deal. He would have a religious debate with a member of the Chinese community. If the Chinese win, they could stay. If the Pope wins, the Chinese would leave.

The Chinese realized that they had no other choice. So they picked a middle-aged man named Ah Pek to represent them.

Ah Pek asked for one condition to be added to the debate. ‘To make it more interesting’ , he said, ‘neither side would be allowed to talk’.

The Pope agreed. The day of the great debate came. Ah Pek and the Pope sat opposite each other for a full minute.

Then the Pope raised his hand and showed three fingers. Ah Pek looked back at him and raised one finger. The Pope waved his fingers in a circle around his head. Ah Pek pointed to the ground at where he sat. The Pope pulled out a loaf and a glass of wine. Ah Pek pull out an apple.

The Pope stood up and said: ‘I give up. This man is too good. The Chinese can stay.’

An hour later, the cardinals were all around The Pope asking him what happened?. The Pope said, ‘first I held up three fingers to represent the holy trinity. He responded by holding up one finger to remind me that there was still one God common to both our religions.’

‘Then I waved my finger around me to show him that God was all around us.’ He responded by pointing to the ground and showing that God was also right here with us.’

‘I pulled out the wine and loaf to show that God absolves all sin. He showed me an apple to remind us of the original sin. He had an answer for everything. What could I do?’

Meanwhile, the Chinese community had crowded around Ah Pek. ‘What happened?’ they asked..

‘Well,’ said Ah Pek, ‘First he indicated to me that all Chinese had 3 days to get out of here. I replied to him f*@k off and not one of us was leaving.’

‘Then he pointed that this whole city would be cleared of Chinese. I showed him that we are staying right here.’

‘Yes, and then???’ asked the crowd. ‘I don’t know’,said Ah Pek, ‘He took out his lunch, and I took out mine!!!’

 

Cleffairy: The moral of the story: Don’t play play with the Chinese, oh!

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Help needed? Fuck you!

Posted in A Penny For Your Thoughts, Time Heals What Love And Reason Cannot with tags , , , , , , , on October 26, 2009 by cleffairy

I was a naive fool when it comes to helping people. Not to say that I am a charitable person, but then again, I usually will try my best to help people who are in need. But truthfully, I get sick and tired of helping people.

Especially in terms of financial problems-because I am struggling trying to make my ends meet and feeding my own bloody family and whatever nonsense that comes along with it. I hate it when people take advantage of me and my family, just because they know that we will try our best to help those who are in need.

I don’t know who to blame, but it seems that people around me are poor in upbringing that they are willing to go around begging for money when they are perfectly healthy and capable of earning money themselves. I may be able to tolerate for first and second time, but not the third. I had enough.

They said-they just want to borrow the money, but by the end of the day, or even years, we’ll never get back the money that we borrowed to them.It is easy to say no when they’re just friends or colleagues, but it is definitely not easy when it is your relatives or your fucking in laws. You don’t give them the money, they’ll cry foul and make people misunderstood your reluctance to help them. And  they too will tell people that you’re the kind of people who couldn’t care less if they were to suicide before your very eyes.

It is just sickening that these people simply asks for money from others, take em for their own use, not thinking that the people that they took the money from too have their own sets of financial difficulties.

Just because one does not announce to the world that they are having financial problems, it does not mean that the person in question does not have any financial problems at all. It is just a matter of common sense that one should not announce their financial problems to outsiders.

It is just horrible when you simply cannot say no to the people who asks to borrow money from you, promising you that they will soon return the money as soon as they can. But at the end or the day or decades, they will treat their ‘debts’ as something that never happened before.

I know what my father will tell me if I told him such problems that’s bothering me at the moment. He will definitely tell me that all of these nonsense has to stop. There is no easy way in settling your problems or succeeding in career or life, and if you have financial problems, by all means, do your best to earn the money to support yourself instead of begging around for it.

And now, I’d like to say the same thing to the certain someone in my life at the moment, only in a more crude way.

“Screw you, bastard. If you have no money, just go and sell that asshole of yours in a gay bar. It probably can fetch more money than extorting from me.”

I am sorry of this entry bothers my precious readers, but I really do hope that the certain someone will come to my blog and READ about this and stop bothering me ever again!

And no, I don’t care if this will severe our blood ties, because as far as I am concern, you only see me as an ATM machine, not your relative. All these while, my family have been helping yours and when my family is in trouble, where the fuck did you and your clan go? Not only you did not help, but you make things worst for us instead by badmouthing us. So, yeah, basically, all I’m trying to say is, go and fuck your own asshole.

Cleffairy: As much as I hate people who borrow money from others and never returning them, I don’t think I can tolerate ball -less men who runs to their mummy each time they encounter problems even more! I think most women out there are even above these men, because when they are married and have families of their own, women hardly runs back to their own family for help. Some women persevere better then some of those weaklings.

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When You Divorce Me, Carry Me Out in Your Arms

Posted in A Penny For Your Thoughts, Time Heals What Love And Reason Cannot with tags , , , , on October 25, 2009 by cleffairy
From Jewish Art, edited by Grace Cohen Grossma...
Image via Wikipedia

I stumbled upon this in my email this morning when I was having a cuppa tea, and somehow, it made me ponder. So, my married and unmarried readers, I’d like to share the story with you.

On my wedding day, I carried my wife in my arms. The bridal car stopped in front of our one-room flat. My buddies insisted that I carry her out of the car in my arms. So I carried her into our home. She was then plump and shy.. I was a strong and happy bridegroom.

This was the scene ten years ago.

The following days were as simple as a cup of pure water: we had a kid; I went into business and tried to make more money. When the assets were steadily increasing, the affection between us seemed to ebb. She was a civil servant. Every morning we left home together and got home almost at the same time. Our kid was studying in a boarding school.

Our marriage life seemed to be enviably happy. But the calm life was more likely to be affected by unpredictable changes.

Dew came into my life.

It was a sunny day. I stood on a spacious balcony. Dew hugged me from behind. My heart once again was immersed in her stream of love. This was the apartment I bought for her.

Dew said, you are the kind of man who best draws girls’ eyeballs. Her words suddenly reminded me of my wife. When we were just married, my wife said, Men like you, once successful, will be very attractive to girls.

Thinking of this, I became somewhat hesitant. I knew I had betrayed my wife.. But I couldn’t help doing so.

I moved Dew’s hands aside and said you go to select some furniture, O.K.? I’ve got something to do in the company. Obviously she was unhappy, because I had promised to do it together with her. At the moment, the idea of divorce became clearer in my mind although it used to be something impossible to me.

However, I found it rather difficult to tell my wife about it. No matter how mildly I mentioned it to her, she would be deeply hurt.

Honestly, she was a good wife. Every evening she was busy preparing dinner. I was sitting in front of the TV. The dinner was ready soon. Then we watched TV together. Or, I was lounging before the computer, visualizing Dew’s body. This was the means of my entertainment.

One day I said to her in a slightly joking way, suppose we divorce, what will you do? She stared at me for a few seconds without a word. Apparently she believed that divorce was something too far away from her. I couldn’t imagine how she would react once she got to know I was serious.

When my wife went to my office, Dew had just stepped out. Almost all the staff looked at my wife with a sympathetic eye and tried to hide something while talking to her. She seemed to have got some hint. She gently smiled at my subordinates. But I read some hurt in her eyes.

Once again, Dew said to me, He Ning, divorce her, O.K.? Then we live together. I nodded. I knew I could not hesitate any more.

When my wife served the last dish, I held her hand. I’ve got something to tell you, I said. She sat down and ate quietly. Again I observed the hurt in her eyes. Suddenly I didn’t know how to open my mouth. But I had to let her know what I was thinking. I want a divorce. I raised the serious topic calmly.

She didn’t seem to be annoyed by my words, instead she asked me softly, why? I’m serious. I avoided her question. This so-called answer made her angry.. She threw away the chopsticks and shouted at me, you are not a man!

That night, we didn’t talk to each other. She was weeping. I knew she wanted to find out what had happened to our marriage. But I could hardly give her a satisfactory answer, because my heart had gone to Dew.

With a deep sense of guilt, I drafted a divorce agreement which stated that she could own our house, our car, and 30% stake of my company. She glanced at it and then tore it into pieces. I felt a pain in my heart. The woman who had been living ten years with me would become a stranger one day. But I could not take back what I had said.

Finally she cried loudly in front of me, which was what I had expected to see. To me her cry was actually a kind of release. The idea of divorce which had obsessed me for several weeks seemed to be firmer and clearer.

Late that night, I came back home after entertaining my clients. I saw her writing something at the table. I fall asleep fast. When I woke up, I found she was still there. I turned over and was asleep again.

She brought up her divorce conditions: she didn’t want anything from me, but I was supposed to give her one month s time before divorce, and in the month’s time we must live as normal a life as possible. Her reason was simple: our son would finish his summer vacation a month later and she didn’t want him to see our marriage was broken.

She passed me the agreement she drafted, and then asked me, He Ning, do you still remember how I entered our bridal room on the wedding day? This question suddenly brought back all those wonderful memories to me. I nodded and said, I remember. You carried me in your arms, she continued, so, I have a requirement, that is, you carry me out in your arms on the day when we divorce. From now to the end of this month, you must carry me out from the bedroom to the door every morning.

I accepted with a smile. I knew she missed those sweet days and wished to end her marriage romantically.

I told Dew about my wife s divorce conditions. She laughed loudly and thought it was absurd. No matter what tricks she does, she has to face the result of divorce, she said scornfully. Her words more or less made me feel uncomfortable.

My wife and I hadn’t had any body contact since my divorce intention was explicitly expressed. We even treated each other as a stranger. So when I carried her out on the first day, we both appeared clumsy. Our son clapped behind us, daddy is holding mummy in his arms. His words brought me a sense of pain. From the bedroom to the sitting room, then to the door, I walked over ten meters with her in my arms. She closed her eyes and said softly, Let us start from today, don’t tell our son. I nodded, feeling somewhat upset. I put her down outside the door. She went to wait for a bus, I drove to the office.

On the second day, both of us acted much more easily. She leaned on my chest. We were so close that I could smell the fragrance of her blouse. I realized that I hadn’t looked at this intimate woman carefully for a long time. I found she was not young any more. There were some fine wrinkles on her face.

On the third day, she whispered to me, the outside garden is being demolished. Be careful when you pass there.

On the fourth day, when I lifted her up, I seemed to feel that we were still an intimate couple and I was holding my sweetheart in my arms. The visualization of Dew became vague.

On the fifth and sixth day, she kept reminding me something, such as, where she put the ironed shirts, I should be careful while cooking, etc. I nodded. The sense of intimacy was even stronger. I didn’t tell Dew about this.

I felt it was easier to carry her. Perhaps the everyday workout made me stronger. I said to her, It seems not difficult to carry you now. She was picking her dresses. I was waiting to carry her out. She tried quite a few but could not find a suitable one. Then she sighed, all my dresses have grown bigger. I smiled. But I suddenly realized that it was because she was thinner that I could carry her more easily, not because I was stronger. I knew she had buried all the bitterness in her heart. Again, I felt a sense of pain.. Subconsciously I reached out a hand to touch her head.

Our son came in at the moment. Dad, it’s time to carry mum out. He said. To him, seeing his father carrying his mother out had been an essential part of his life. She gestured our son to come closer and hugged him tightly. I turned my face because I was afraid I would change my mind at the last minute. I held her in my arms, walking from the bedroom, through the sitting room, to the hallway. Her hand surrounded my neck softly and naturally. I held her body tightly, as if we came back to our wedding day. But her much lighter weight made me sad.

On the last day, when I held her in my arms I could hardly move a step. Our son had gone to school. She said, actually I hope you will hold me in your arms until we are old.

I held her tightly and said, both you and I didn’t notice that our life lacked intimacy.

I jumped out of the car swiftly without locking the door. I was afraid any delay would make me change my decision. I walked upstairs. Dew opened the door. I said to her, Sorry, Dew, I won’t divorce. I’m serious.

She looked at me, astonished. The she touched my forehead. You got no fever.. She said. I moved her hand off my head. Sorry, Dew, I said, I can only say sorry to you, I won’t divorce. My marriage life was boring probably because she and I didn’t value the details of life, not because we didn’t love each other any more. Now I understand that since I carried her into the home, she gave birth to our child, I am supposed to hold her until I am old. So I have to say sorry to you.

Dew seemed to suddenly wake up. She gave me a loud slap and then slammed the door and burst into tears. I walked downstairs and drove to the office.

When I passed the floral shop on the way, I ordered a bouquet for my wife which was her favorite. The salesgirl asked me what to write on the card. I smiled and wrote, I’ll carry you out every morning until we are old.

Cleffairy: Unfortunately in the real world, bitches always have their ways. :(

To my married and unmarried friends:

This is a very touching story, please read it slowly, I’ve read it more than twice….

When You Divorce Me, Carry Me Out in Your Arms

On my wedding day, I carried my wife in my arms. The bridal car stopped in front of our one-room flat. My buddies insisted that I carry her out of the car in my arms. So I carried her into our home. She was then plump and shy.. I was a strong and happy bridegroom.

This was the scene ten years ago.

The following days were as simple as a cup of pure water: we had a kid; I went into business and tried to make more money. When the assets were steadily increasing, the affection between us seemed to ebb. She was a civil servant. Every morning we left home together and got home almost at the same time. Our kid was studying in a boarding school.

Our marriage life seemed to be enviably happy. But the calm life was more likely to be affected by unpredictable changes.

Dew came into my life.

It was a sunny day. I stood on a spacious balcony. Dew hugged me from behind. My heart once again was immersed in her stream of love. This was the apartment I bought for her.

Dew said, you are the kind of man who best draws girls’ eyeballs. Her words suddenly reminded me of my wife. When we were just married, my wife said, Men like you, once successful, will be very attractive to girls.

Thinking of this, I became somewhat hesitant. I knew I had betrayed my wife.. But I couldn’t help doing so.

I moved Dew’s hands aside and said you go to select some furniture, O.K.? I’ve got something to do in the company. Obviously she was unhappy, because I had promised to do it together with her. At the moment, the idea of divorce became clearer in my mind although it used to be something impossible to me.

However, I found it rather difficult to tell my wife about it. No matter how mildly I mentioned it to her, she would be deeply hurt.

Honestly, she was a good wife. Every evening she was busy preparing dinner. I was sitting in front of the TV. The dinner was ready soon. Then we watched TV together. Or, I was lounging before the computer, visualizing Dew’s body. This was the means of my entertainment.

One day I said to her in a slightly joking way, suppose we divorce, what will you do? She stared at me for a few seconds without a word. Apparently she believed that divorce was something too far away from her. I couldn’t imagine how she would react once she got to know I was serious.

When my wife went to my office, Dew had just stepped out. Almost all the staff looked at my wife with a sympathetic eye and tried to hide something while talking to her. She seemed to have got some hint. She gently smiled at my subordinates. But I read some hurt in her eyes.

Once again, Dew said to me, He Ning, divorce her, O.K.? Then we live together. I nodded. I knew I could not hesitate any more.

When my wife served the last dish, I held her hand. I’ve got something to tell you, I said. She sat down and ate quietly. Again I observed the hurt in her eyes. Suddenly I didn’t know how to open my mouth. But I had to let her know what I was thinking. I want a divorce. I raised the serious topic calmly.

She didn’t seem to be annoyed by my words, instead she asked me softly, why? I’m serious. I avoided her question. This so-called answer made her angry.. She threw away the chopsticks and shouted at me, you are not a man!

That night, we didn’t talk to each other. She was weeping. I knew she wanted to find out what had happened to our marriage. But I could hardly give her a satisfactory answer, because my heart had gone to Dew.

With a deep sense of guilt, I drafted a divorce agreement which stated that she could own our house, our car, and 30% stake of my company. She glanced at it and then tore it into pieces. I felt a pain in my heart. The woman who had been living ten years with me would become a stranger one day. But I could not take back what I had said.

Finally she cried loudly in front of me, which was what I had expected to see. To me her cry was actually a kind of release. The idea of divorce which had obsessed me for several weeks seemed to be firmer and clearer.

Late that night, I came back home after entertaining my clients. I saw her writing something at the table. I fall asleep fast. When I woke up, I found she was still there. I turned over and was asleep again.



She brought up her divorce conditions: she didn’t want anything from me, but I was supposed to give her one month s time before divorce, and in the month’s time we must live as normal a life as possible. Her reason was simple: our son would finish his summer vacation a month later and she didn’t want him to see our marriage was broken.

She passed me the agreement she drafted, and then asked me, He Ning, do you still remember how I entered our bridal room on the wedding day? This question suddenly brought back all those wonderful memories to me. I nodded and said, I remember. You carried me in your arms, she continued, so, I have a requirement, that is, you carry me out in your arms on the day when we divorce. From now to the end of this month, you must carry me out from the bedroom to the door every morning.

I accepted with a smile. I knew she missed those sweet days and wished to end her marriage romantically.

I told Dew about my wife s divorce conditions. She laughed loudly and thought it was absurd. No matter what tricks she does, she has to face the result of divorce, she said scornfully. Her words more or less made me feel uncomfortable.

My wife and I hadn’t had any body contact since my divorce intention was explicitly expressed. We even treated each other as a stranger. So when I carried her out on the first day, we both appeared clumsy. Our son clapped behind us, daddy is holding mummy in his arms. His words brought me a sense of pain. From the bedroom to the sitting room, then to the door, I walked over ten meters with her in my arms. She closed her eyes and said softly, Let us start from today, don’t tell our son. I nodded, feeling somewhat upset. I put her down outside the door. She went to wait for a bus, I drove to the office.

On the second day, both of us acted much more easily. She leaned on my chest. We were so close that I could smell the fragrance of her blouse. I realized that I hadn’t looked at this intimate woman carefully for a long time. I found she was not young any more. There were some fine wrinkles on her face.

On the third day, she whispered to me, the outside garden is being demolished. Be careful when you pass there.

On the fourth day, when I lifted her up, I seemed to feel that we were still an intimate couple and I was holding my sweetheart in my arms. The visualization of Dew became vague.

On the fifth and sixth day, she kept reminding me something, such as, where she put the ironed shirts, I should be careful while cooking, etc. I nodded. The sense of intimacy was even stronger. I didn’t tell Dew about this.

I felt it was easier to carry her. Perhaps the everyday workout made me stronger. I said to her, It seems not difficult to carry you now. She was picking her dresses. I was waiting to carry her out. She tried quite a few but could not find a suitable one. Then she sighed, all my dresses have grown bigger. I smiled. But I suddenly realized that it was because she was thinner that I could carry her more easily, not because I was stronger. I knew she had buried all the bitterness in her heart. Again, I felt a sense of pain.. Subconsciously I reached out a hand to touch her head.

Our son came in at the moment. Dad, it’s time to carry mum out. He said. To him, seeing his father carrying his mother out had been an essential part of his life. She gestured our son to come closer and hugged him tightly. I turned my face because I was afraid I would change my mind at the last minute. I held her in my arms, walking from the bedroom, through the sitting room, to the hallway. Her hand surrounded my neck softly and naturally. I held her body tightly, as if we came back to our wedding day. But her much lighter weight made me sad.

On the last day, when I held her in my arms I could hardly move a step. Our son had gone to school. She said, actually I hope you will hold me in your arms until we are old.

I held her tightly and said, both you and I didn’t notice that our life lacked intimacy.

I jumped out of the car swiftly without locking the door. I was afraid any delay would make me change my decision. I walked upstairs. Dew opened the door. I said to her, Sorry, Dew, I won’t divorce. I’m serious.

She looked at me, astonished. The she touched my forehead. You got no fever.. She said. I moved her hand off my head. Sorry, Dew, I said, I can only say sorry to you, I won’t divorce. My marriage life was boring probably because she and I didn’t value the details of life, not because we didn’t love each other any more. Now I understand that since I carried her into the home, she gave birth to our child, I am supposed to hold her until I am old. So I have to say sorry to you.

Dew seemed to suddenly wake up. She gave me a loud slap and then slammed the door and burst into tears. I walked downstairs and drove to the office.

When I passed the floral shop on the way, I ordered a bouquet for my wife which was her favorite. The salesgirl asked me what to write on the card. I smiled and wrote, I’ll carry you out every morning until we are old.

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The 3 o’clock Fairy

Posted in A Penny For Your Thoughts, Time Heals What Love And Reason Cannot with tags , , on October 23, 2009 by cleffairy

Does 3 o’clock Fairy sounds like a novel title to you? Well, to some, it might sound like a novel title, or even some bed time tales for children. Not to worry, dear readers. This is no entry about me bragging about writing a novel again nor it’s shameless self ad for my latest novel writing adventure.

This is just a little something about myself that I’d like to share with all of you out there. So please be kind to me. This entry may not make sense at all to some of you out there. I am not sure what’s going on with myself lately, anyway, so pardon me, will you?

Jen, a blogger friend of mine asked me in her comment page what in the hell am I doing awake at 3am++ in the morning. I jokingly told her that I’ve been haunting her. But the fact is, I am not haunting her. Far from that. ( I wouldn’t dare haunt Jen, I think she can be pretty scary when she’s pissed. LOL)

As of late, I found myself doing weird things. Apart from not sleeping at normal hours-because I am somewhat an insomniac lately, I’ve been doing things that many people will condemn me to hell, especially health freaks and people who are vain about their appearance.

I have been eating a lot of fattening, oily and instant junk, especially after midnight. Can you seriously imagine someone who eats a pack of nasi lemak along with a fried eggs or chicken after midnight? Or some greasy grilled cheese sandwich  or a burger or two at around 3-4 o’clock in the morning? Can you imagine consuming some chocolate ice cream or candies at an ungodly hour?

Well… I do that lately. These days, when everyone in my house is asleep, I’ll make my way to my study table where my laptop is situated, root my ass into the Rolodex, connect into the Internet and click around in attempt to catch up with what the rest of my blogger friends and the rest of the world.

After awhile, I will feel slightly numb and my stomach will grumble, and that is when I will start to raid my kitchen to make myself a cuppa ice tea and some simple dishes by forking out some leftovers from dinner or something so that my stomach will not bother me with some unpleasant hard rock singing.

I should have feel guilty for eating during irregular hours and some would probably tell me that I will regret this when I am older. But frankly speaking, I don’t even feel guilty about it. In fact, I felt good about it. The food are so comforting. And it’s sinfully nice sitting in front of my laptop, visiting blogs that I am familiar with while gobbling down my not so healthy midnight snacks.

One might wonder if I feel creepy being awake at such an ungodly hours. Honestly, I don’t feel creepy at all, even with the howling of some wild dogs outside of the window. I may have been afraid of the dark when I was a little girl and my imagination run wild after midnight, but not anymore. I found that these days, darkness are actually comforting.

I feel  truly at peace instead. I love the solitude of the night, especially at around 3 o’clock in the morning-where everyone is asleep and will not bother me for whatever obnoxious reasons. That is probably the only time of the day that I could truly breathe and enjoy doing what I want to do without interruption and do things that I want to do, not the things that I have to do because other people asked me of it.

Weird as it may sound, I feel liberated and myself again instead of a grumbling bitching woman who gets mad at everything that goes wrong in her life and would cut a leg to murder assholes who screw up her life.

Before any of you ask me whether I am a menapausal old woman who cannot sleep, let me clarify here that I am far from that. I’m still a hot chic who just turn 25 years old early last month.

And for what it’s worth, despite of the lack of sleep, I am glad that midnight is my best friend and though my life is a bitching adventure, I still can find peace with myself at 3 o’clock++ in the morning.

Below is a song ‘ The 3 o’clock Fairy’ or ‘San ji no yousei’- a song from my all time favourite anime, Sailormoon. I remembered that there’s a song about 3 o’clock fairy, so I dedicate this to all insomniac out there.

Cleffairy: I am a 3 o’clock fairy. Stress gets to me sometimes- make that most of the time. And I haunt my own house after midnight. Anybody else haunt their own house after midnight?

ps: I wrote this at 3:30am, and I still don’t feel sleepy.

Joint Responsibility

Posted in A Penny For Your Thoughts, Time Heals What Love And Reason Cannot with tags , , , , on October 22, 2009 by cleffairy

I’ve been meaning to write about this since last year, and I have no idea why I’ve been procrastinating writing this down. Perhaps, my temper did not flare enough for me to put it into words. Or perhaps, it is because only today I felt the need to express this, as I’ve seen no changes or progress in the matter that I shall soon delve in.

Frankly speaking though, it’s neither. It is actually because, all my life, I’ve always felt that I delivered my thoughts better through writing than merely speaking. People in my life simply DO NOT LISTEN, or PRETENDED not to, and usually, I have no other place to vent my anger besides places where I could write them down.

Talking to people in my life sometimes is as useless as talking to the wall. Believe me, it’s not that I did not try to communicate what’s bothering me, but they are hardheaded and sometimes do not listen to other’s advice for they think they are such smart ass when the fact is they are a true jackass. I always ended up angrier when I spoke about it because it simply do not work with the hardheaded bastards. I’ve always feel that at least, when I blog about certain matters that’s eating me alive I get a more desirable respond than confronting the matter.

So, allow me to talk about this: Joint responsibility.

No, I’m not talking about joint responsibilities between spouses in their respective household, that will have to wait until next time. This time I’d like to talk about joint responsibility between siblings in caring for elder relatives- such as an aging parent, dying relatives, etc.

You see, dear readers, I’ve always hate freeloaders. They work me up to the point that I feel that I would tear my own head apart if I could. They pissed me off to no end, because ever since I was a little girl, I was thought to walk with my chin up and with dignity and pride, and no matter what I do, I must not freeload on others. I was thought not to beg for help, even if I’m starving on the street.

For some this may not be such a good trait, cuz it often tends to make one suffer than having an easy and luxurious life. But it works for me. It makes me what I am today. It makes me stronger.

Yes, my father had taught me well. He not only taught me the ways of the world, but he also thought me to be a responsible person- where I must be responsible for myself and people around me. And as a firstborn, I was also thought to care for the younger and have compassion for the elders. So even if I don’t like it, I will still be responsible for what I am supposed to be responsible with.

Unfortunately for me, and perhaps my little family too, other people’s father and mothers did not have enough conscience to teach their children what my father had instilled into me through his wise words and actions.

They had spoiled their children rotten, and they were not thought to be responsible even for themselves, and in the end, they take the easy way out by literally going around freeloading and behaves like an irresponsible fool, even when they are already married and have children of their own. These people have a mindset that I could not bear; which is people will clear up their problems for them each time they ask for help.

These people too are the kind of people who will without a doubt forsake their aging parents when the time comes for them to take care of their aging parents. They will give many kind of excuses so that they will not need to take responsibility and be a responsible person. They prefer to pass on their responsibility to their siblings who sometimes have no choice but to take sole responsibility on their aging or sick parents just because the other one absolutely refuse to take do their part and share the responsibility of taking care of their elders.

Among lames excuses that I’ve heard countlessly before and I don’t doubt that I’ll be hearing them again are until the day that I breathe my last:

1. Mum/dad prefers you over me. So just let them stay with you.

2. I’m not financially stable yet. I may be sacked soon… or demoted… or you name it.

3. The economy is not good, I need extra cash to feed my family. Why don’t you take responsibility? Your financial seems better than mine.

4. I have more children than you, whom are going to school… bla bla bla… your brat is not going to school yet, you have less burden than me, so why don’t you take responsibility?

5. My wife/ spouse does not get along well with with the in laws. I will get into HUGE trouble if I take care of of mum/dad. You wouldn’t want me to get into a huge fight and ruin my marriage, will you?

They will give countless of excuses so that they will not be burdened with the joint responsibility of taking care of their aging parents. Taking care of their parents, or giving some sort of allowance to them is considered a gruesome task. They care for nothing but themselves and their own happiness. They gave no thoughts that their behaviour gave problems to their siblings who finds it hard to take responsibility on their aging parents all by themselves-morally and financially.

They said the aging parent in question prefers the other sibling them. But the fact is, their attitude displease everyone. Everyone gets sick of them, and even when people express displeasure towards their irresponsible attitude, they turn blind eye towards the issue and they flare their bloody tempers.

They tell people that their financially unstable and therefore, other sibling(s) who earns more should take sole responsibility on caring for their aging parents. But to me, this is just excuse. If they can afford to spoil their spouse and children with luxury and feed their brats til they become a glutton of a pig, and lavish their wives with expensive and unnecessary things or invest in countless insurance so that they could die a rich man, why can’t they contribute a penny or two as well?

They always say they have no money. Frankly speaking, I just think it’s either a lame excuse to escape the responsibility or poor personal financial management. If their other sibling who earns less than them could take on the responsibility, why can’t they? It only comes to one thing: They do not want to be responsible. THEY DO NOT WANT TO BE RESPONSIBLE! That is why!

They say they have more children, and therefore, the cost of their upbringing is higher than the other siblings. I suppose it never crossed their birdbrain that their siblings too have burdens of their own, and their action have cost problems to their sibling’s family as well.

They said, their spouse does not like their aging parents, and if they provide a roof over the  aging parent’s head, World War III will erupt. My word! I can’t believe it never crossed their mind that their siblings too will have problems with their spouse if they take on the responsibility completely on their own.

I’ve always hate these kind of people, and I can never find it in my heart to respect them, especially when they are a older than me. It disgust me to no end, no matter what excuses they give to justify their action. Never ever ask me to respect these kind of people because if you do, all you get will only be my wrath. I don’t have even a morsel of respect or admiration for such people.

My respect is not for these kind of irresponsible, selfish and obnoxious bastards. They are definitely intolerable, and if they are dead the next minute of my life, I will not mourn for them. Instead, I’ll be having a party to celebrate the fact that one more useless person in my life is gone for good. The absence of these kind of people is a relief, for they only burden others. Good riddance to bad rubbish, I must say.

Unfortunately, irresponsible and selfish people do not die easily. They just don’t get it, and they won’t disappear and I can only hope that retribution will come without fail, and in the future, they will be placed in the same predicament that they have put their parents or their siblings through. Children usually learn from example. And being irresponsible is not a good example to growing children. I hope, one day, they will feel how it is like when their children behave as irresponsible as them when they are old and senile.


Cleffairy: It disgust me that sometimes, people who are older than me are incapable of being responsible for themselves and failed to do their part in caring for their elders. Never ever ask me to give face or demand me to respect these kind of people, because they only deserve blasphemy from me. You want respect from me because I am younger than you? Earn it then!

Happy Deepavali

Posted in A Penny For Your Thoughts with tags , , on October 17, 2009 by cleffairy

Here’s wishing everyone out there a Happy Deepavali, regardless of your age, sex, race and religion. Why do I say that? Well, elementary my dear readers, I am no Hindhu devotee, but then again, Deepavali is one of my favourite holiday throughout the whole year.

Why?

Why indeed. I could have said that Chinese New Year, Eid or even Christmas is my favourite festival. But then again Chinese New Year is crap, because I’ll be forced to give angpow to brats who sometimes I don’t even know, and I have to sit primly at a table full of old farts who thought highly of themselves and absolutely have no care for the youngster’s mind for the reunion dinner. The old farts simply do not give a damn about you, and just like any typical Chinese, they simply loved to compare and gossip about their children’s achievements to each other. It is just sickening to the stomach. The food for reunion dinner are usually overrated, expensive and simply unbearable-especially when you go to expensive restaurants instead of eating at home. And I kinda hate the alcohols and the poker play that goes on during Chinese New Year too. It stinks and just a waste of time and money.

Eid is no difference from Chinese New Year, since I too have relatives who are Muslim, and I am expected to visit them, and attend countless open house where all you have to do is stuff you face. While I do not mind stuffing my face with ketupat, rendang and homemade traditional cookies, but by the end of the day, I will surely get stomach aches and annoyed by the fact that I’ve wasted my holiday yet again by entertaining people around me instead of giving myself a well deserved rest.

Christmas is no difference either. Always hated it because there will be friends and family gathering one again. Worst, Christmas is the time for giving and exchanging presents. EXPENSIVE PRESENTS at that. I’m bad at wrapping presents, so this made the whole process unbearable too. I also could not stand the fact that I have to decorate some dumb Christmas tree for display, cuz it’s just simply pain in the ass, literally-trying to figure out where should I put the turtle doves or little porcelain angels when in the end, the people who visits my house won’t even be looking at the Christmas tree but look forward for the food and presents instead.

To me, the only fun thing about Christmas is just having a quiet time for myself reading Charles Dickens’ Christmas Carol over a cuppa tea when everyone is gone and no longer pestering me for presents, food, or even cleaning up the house.

I’m always a little bit of  Ms. Grinch  and a Scrooge when it comes to festivals. Especially if it’s Chinese New Year, Eid and Christmas. People whom I dislike will pester me endlessly while people that I favoured simply would not appear. It’s just a pain in the ass.

But Deepavali or fondly known as Diwali elsewhere is a different story.  I love Deepavali because for once, no one will bother me, and I usually have fun putting a beautifully designed RM5-RM10 henna on my hands and get to munch on murukus, satisfy my sweet tooth on laddus and many more Deepavali delicacies that I loved to boot.I can also play dress up and put on some sarees or Punjabi suits if I want to and no one would laugh at me for donning one.

Apart from the fact that I have an extra day off on Deepavali, I enjoyed the fact that Deepavali is THE ONLY holiday in Malaysia that I am not expected to make a hassle of a tiring trip to visit some relatives or unbearable old farts. I also enjoy the fact that during Deepavali, I am also not expected to play hostess and try to please everyone else around me.

Deepavali always means a real holiday to me, and I hope it’ll remain that way for the rest of my life, for truly enjoying a relaxing Chinese New Year, Eid or even Christmas is truly out of the question.

Besides getting to rest, relax and enjoy Deepavali, there’s another thing more important above the rest. Deepavali is a reminder to me that despite Malaysia puts more emphasize on the Malays and Chinese’s wellbeing and welfare, the Indians are not forgotten, and never would be.

Having Deepavali as one of the officially recognized festival by the government, it reminds us all that the Indians, despite being a minority in this country, they are still a part of Malaysia, and still thriving and respected in the modern society, and would continue that way.

The Malays and Chinese may have made up the big portion of the nation and usually their voice are louder and more heard than the Indians, but without the Indians contributing their efforts and culture in nation building, Malaysia would never be complete. The Malays, Chinese and Indians may be different. They look different physically, but at the end of the day, without each other, we are incomplete.


Cleffairy: May this Deepavali the light of goodness illuminates your heart.

Solitude vs Bad Companionship

Posted in A Penny For Your Thoughts, Time Heals What Love And Reason Cannot with tags , , , , on October 13, 2009 by cleffairy

I would have chosen death any day over solitary life or bad companionship, but then again, if one could not have death, I wonder, which one is better? A solitary life where loneliness is your only true friend, or bad company where you get irritated, angry and uncomfortable with your companion or the people around you, because they simply would not respect your rights and privacy?

As of late, I have been thinking about this matter; on whether I would prefer solitude or bad companionship. One thing about me that others should know is that I don’t like to feel bored and lonely. I like a merry, cheerful and carefree life where I can share my days and night with others.

But while I prefer not to be alone and would like to have a pair or ears that listens without judging and a shoulder to cry on every now and then in all my troubles, I don’t think I would appreciate bad company.

I think, I would prefer a solitary life any day than having people trying to make my inner volcano erupt all the time by invading my space and privacy. Yes, I think, I’d rather have that.

When life is truly bad and you think you’re all alone in all your troubles and you can’t get out of it and all you want is to buy yourself a coffin and bury yourself, you would probably want to be alone, either to take a breather or to reflect on what’s going on in your life so that you can move on later on when you’re ready.You would not want anymore additional stress and pressure.

But sometimes, life plays dirty tricks on you, and people simply would not leave you alone… and whether you want it or not, you get bad companion who doesn’t understand you at all, and only think for themselves. Yes, they think nothing but themselves and they get on your nerves and more often than not and they definitely make you feel that you are capable of murdering them. Unfortunately for you, they simply wouldn’t go away, because however unwelcome they are in your life, you could not get rid of them-they might be old friends, parents, in laws, siblings, etc.

Frankly speaking, I used to think that a solitary life is a punishment more worst than death itself, but not anymore. I now know that solitary life can be more soothing and more serene than having assholes who exists solely to make you feel pissed off and could do nothing about it. I used to hate the thought of having no one to turn to, but I’d rather have no one to turn to than having my blood boil every single breath with their attitudes.

Cleffairy: Hopefully, I will not have to truly choose between a solitary life or having bad companions in my life for death would be a better choice between the two.