Blessed with another summon today. Bloody scratched and dented this HUGE long scratch and dent on my car as i squeezed through a narrow passage with utmost confidence. I swear it wasn't me, it was my ego.
Okay, so apart from another trip to the mpsj building, the fitness first wall challenge finals is on this sunday at the curve. Hopefully i'll be knocking the fuck out of others who'd speed climb with me, including you brad. There, my ego's speaking again.
So i didn't fail my maths test, AND (here's the amazing part), i'm spending my time in the library after college. People never knew me for the study-er i am, people never aknowledged that. Maybe because i dont. I claim i do, although sometimes i deny spending time with productive learning, but unlike certain people, when i say i didn't study for that test, or fuck, i didn't study for spm, i really didn't do shit. Point is, i'm
Fuck there isn't a point. Ranted a whole load of bullshit.
I'm in a depressed interval of life again. How do you spill your mind out without making it obvious?
I wont lie and say i didn't miss college through the 2 weeks we've been doing nothing much productive. Well in my case, i thought i'll be able to finish my maths work before i actually get back to college only to find that i remember jackshit about what i've learned.
But we're back tomorrow. Pistons up and running again. My mechanism hasn't readied me for further education yet but i hardly have a choice do i?
Xr was complaining about 2 weeks not being enough. But you ponder, if we had one month, what difference would it make if we'll go about procrastinating? I wait until today to actually brush through my college files and notes after a fortnight, if we had a month, i'll also do the same probably on the day before we return. See the thing is not everyone's like me, which could only solidify the fact that i'm fucked. Like seriously.
Okay on a less fucked note, i finally came across pictures of me and us in college. That day we celebrated our lecturer's birthday and some of us licked cream of the cardboarded base of the cake.
The word is, insignificant. You dont know how fucking hard, how fucking much you wanna throw in the towel. I'm always not good enough. Never, good enough. To you, you and all of you. I'm always a step behind. Jack of all trades, master of none, it rings.
They're right.
You should've raised a baby girl, i COULD'VE been a better son.
Despite being strong enough to clamp my fingers on crimps and small handholds, I started jogging today. Again. Much to the dismay of my unlubricated throat. I managed to maintain composure and keep my lunch firmly at the bottom of my throat while i was gagging and gasping for breath.
I feel herculean.
Sometimes i get so upset about everything I contemplate to..Well basicly i have no balls for anything, there's still so much of life to live out, yet there are equally as much to die for. Literally.
I get so preoccupied with unnecessary thoughts. Stuff that i shouldn't give two fucks about. Yet, stuff that stresses the shit out of me. Why do i care about you?! And what you do. You'll do what you do, and you'll enjoy what you do, and why am i breaking myself because of what you fucking do? You like bohemian, so be it.
I feel myself rolling 3 years back. 3 long fucking years back into the depression.
Singing songs that make you slit your wrists, it isn't that much fun. And if your heart stops beating, i'll be here wondering, did you get what you deserved?
Liang Zhi, i'm a man of my word. This is me in puay chai. So small, so innocent, and gullible and always get bullied by people like shuwen with money and always have to have my ahma see my teacher because i never do my homework and because of students like me and you, the ex-headmistress had big balls to swindle money and hwang lao shi became a pedophile, but i still have so shiny and smooth karipap hair.
So be proud of yourself and post up a picture of a very small, very ugly and very round you.
Dont be angry la. I was ugly kid also.
Once in puay chai, always a sohai. Wo men shi, pei chai de hao shue sen.
Firstly, 4 months on, and i feel like we never really lost grandma.
Maybe there's a way to smoke something and not feel the nausea. Maybe there's a way to exhale some good ol smoke without having an arid smoky aroma stick to you. Maybe there's shisha.
Usually you smoke shisha like an arab. More so like an afghan. The appealing thing about it is the smell, although you can still fucking die the same way if not faster than smoking those little tabacco twigs.
No wonder that caterpillar from alice in wonderland only had one scene.
Haha.
*Chops forehead* you know what its for bren. "Offi....."
Last night me brad and marxha went to rasta to rendezvous with noel and sham for a little drink after climbing. These guys(and girl) might be our new little clique. Noel could be my new shisha partner for i know he's a pretty darn good bassist. Had this band tryout 2 years back and he was in it. Dont think he remembers anything about our little evening at the studio though. Now, he's setting routes for camp 5 and our project routes are his warm ups. Fuck.
Well, brad on the other hand, is NOT getting a girlfriend anytime soon. After all that hype in one previous particular post. Apparently he has relegated "girls" to below college and climbing now. Kudos for that. He knows his priorities. Roxx Climbing Competition at the Summit in May. We're training for it. So yea, no sleep tonight.
Speaking about climbing, brad wouldn't aknowledge me as Boulderjinn. Although at times he'd fucking call me that. I hate routes, i love bouldering, i think i have just enough climbing stamina for bouldering, i do routes like i boulder, i can drop and relax anytime without having to hang 15 meters from the ground, i dont have technique, so call me boulderjinn dammit.
Oh and yesterday i encountered my first road block.
And why do i feel like i just wrote a bunch of nonsense like i'm high.....
I really miss your hair in my face, and the way your innocence taste. I think you should know this, you deserve much better than me.
I know how much i'm letting go this time. I'm making a decision based on my self-importance on the expense of letting someone who loves me so damn much go. I'm telling myself i'm not letting you go just yet, no, i'm not ready to leave behind all that we've done, all that we've experienced as a one, all that you've done for me and everything i've done for you, all our sleepless nights and our meagre quarrels. I just dont see us working out at this point.
Arguments, to us, become chores. I know all i did was to blame every argument on your stubborness and mood swings, but its just me and my fucking ego. I never take the blame, and even if i know i have to, i'll be reluctant. This is just unfair. Its unfair for you.
You will not take this in, you will not trust me, you will not listen nor believe what you read. After what took place last night. It was selfish of me, to make such a decision based on my own importance. But it just cant go on at this while. Because i dont feel for you anymore as much as you feel for me. But i will try my dear, i promise you i would, try to search for that feeling again, try to make things right again, make it like before.
I know i'd never find someone like you anywhere out there in the goddamn world. Someone like you who've loved, love, and will love me as long as i'm alive. I can see it in you, i can see that love and care. And i know i'm not treating you right, which is hurting me twice as much as i'm hurting you. I'm not treating the girl who loves me so much right. How would i treat any other person in my life right? When i cant fucking treat my loved one right?!
I'm holding back tears now. I cant cry, daddy's in my room. You know how much i want my own privacy in my room but that would make dad shift his work station out. I'll save my tears for tonight, when i'm on my bed, just staring into the night lamp, just let the tears roll. Soon i'll be dehydrated after all the crying last night, this afternoon, tonight. It just hurts so much just to hear you on the phone crying, telling me how much pain you feel, and how much you want all these pain to go away. I want to make it go away for you dear. I want to but i have the tendency to make situations worse.
I blame myself for making that decision, even though i know my feelings are beyond my control and they have faded somehow throughout the course of our constant arguments. I took a time out to regain that feeling. I did. Honestly i did, but after it all, it was back to square one. I hope you understand, i really want that feeling again, i really want to feel that same love i had for you for the past one memorable year, but its just beyond my control, only time can tell dear. But its only acceptable to me that i blame myself for all these even though its something i have no control over.
How much you want to run away from me now, i understand. But just believe me when i say i'll always always be there for you. Please my dear. Please believe me on that. I WANT to be there when you cry, i want you to lean on my shoulders while i put my arms around you and whisper "its okay, i'm here". I want you to look me in the eye and yell at me and curse at me as i take your beatings. I want to feel all your pain on top of my pain, i want you to give me all that pain you're feeling. I want so bad. I've said before that even though i say all these and yet you still cry alone and hurt so much, if i get every chance to be right beside you and hold your hand i will. You can curse me, you can stab me, you can push me away, but i'll hold your hand. More than anything else i'll hold those beautiful soft hands of yours.
I cant stop crying now dear. Daddy's here i know, but i just cant stop. I just want you to believe me. Thats all i need from you. Just believe me when i say i'll be taking this time to search for those lost feelings. Believe me when i say i love you because i really do. I really really fucking do. Dont shoot back at me dear. I dont need any explanations or reminders of what i've done to hurt you. I know i fucked up. I apologize but its of no use, whats the point of apologizing without making an effort to do anything right? But if sorry's can cure your pain, i'd say sorry so many times.
People will come to me and say now i've lost a great girlfriend, a really caring person, a beautiful young woman. As much as i would say i've not lost you yet, i'd have to agree that somehow, in a way, i have lost you. And i hate myself for it.
Emelia. This is as much as i'll say for now. So you know about what's going on in my mind. And that you're not the only one hurting. If i'd get to be there in your room right now, with your curtains closed and the lights out, just lie with you on your small single bed, just place my hands on your cheeks, look you in the eye and tell you all that i wanna say. I wouldn't miss it for the world. I'm sorry you have to be alone throughout this whole time.
I love you Emelia. You know that deep down inside of you even when you doubt it. And i've never had a doubt that you love me as much and more. In every way possible, you'll always always have me.
It feels like i'm losing my grandmother all over again.
I know i dont thank you for your guidance and support in my usage of daily wisdom and you might be pissed or may feel like i'm inconsiderate and not thankful enough. I take that. But despite my ungratefulness, i hope you'd shower me with your love and mercy at least for one last time tomorrow. Please lah. Just ONE last favour.
What for? What do you mean what for?! SPM results weyyyy!
Jinny
Jo lin's birthday party last night was messed. No offence jo, or anyone else reading in this matter. It was enjoyable, very enjoyable, at first. When we were all gathered around the new dining table, like the brand new one with the bubble wrap still on, savouring pizza and frankfurters. That was enjoyable. Until certain people came with chivas, made our tera jie jie the birthday girl down a glass of pure. Up to that point, everything fucking messed up.
Most of everyone were already half drunk while "some" decided to let loose and sing the birthday song with all gusto. Worst casualty of the night, SMK taman sea's prodigy, the smartest(before the alcohol) person in school, tuitions, and some say college. As for him, in the midst of drunken fiesta, a new talent has been discovered, projectile vomitting. How the fuck do you puke halfway across the room!?
See, like i told bren, the disadvantage of being non-alcoholic in an alcoholic infested party is that you'll most probably end up in the cleaning squad. Mopping, clearing beer cans and paper cups with mushed up tissues floating in alcoholic substances, clearing projected puke all over the parquet floor. Not once, but twice, another time in the living room. No complaints though, some people have to do constructive work. I'd rather be doing this than be red-faced and grope drunk girls.
Talk about our pride of the school, our teenage prodigy, maybe all he wants is to destress? Wasting himself, puking twice with long distances, destress? Understandable. But when you start insisting on other people kiss your dick or slap whoever's asses, or get a handful of drunk girl's boobs, you deserve a jab in the stomach. That jab in your stomach was worth it, sad i wasn't the one doing it. Even close-proximity with drunk girls will get you to be the talk of the day or should i say party. But dont worry smart boy, you weren't the only "drunk" guy groping and practising a hands-on approach on all the other girls who were present on that wonderful night.
Oh, but alcohol is good in one way. To bring everyone to light. To show who your true self is. And many were exposed.
I'm not condemning your party jo and i thank you for inviting me, i'm just saying the alcohol got a little out of hand. Just a little. Apart from that it was nice to see everyone come together. And your sister and peter has a very nice house.
I like.
Happy birthday tera jie jie. Exactly one year ago, you faked 18 and signed me up for my first rock climbing session at camp 5. Thank you. :)
Amusing. I think we're all just made to be this way. We only remember to appreciate the finer simpler things in life after the desolation. After they're dead and gone.
The REST of the money harvested from the ang pau collection will go into my bank account. Only the 200 buck ang pau from you and mum will be and has been used. But since you accused me of spending my money, i will have to pip a little bit more from the rest of the collections because you refuse to give me my pocket money.
Secondly, about that bloody summon from the fucking fucktards MBPJ. That fat bastard in blue was probably hiding under my car to shelter from the heavy rain. I didn't spend 60 cents on a bloody parking ticket because it was raining, and i'm sorry if i'm not like you but i wouldn't have had stood under the rain punching in my number plate to that yellow machine of some sort. I'd prefer to rush for shelter. Immediately after the rain stopped, which was about 10 minutes before i went back to the car, the bastard in blue already had the summon on my windscreen.
Now i know better, brave the rain, go feed 60 meagre cents to the fucking machine for a little piece of toilet paper to display on my dashboard. But its still unfair to flak me with a barrage of your angry remarks.
You're so fucking sarcastic. Even mum said so.
And for god's sake, its just a careless mistake about the summon, but it had to be like i had rammed into the neighbour's daughter. What if i did? Then i'd rather die along.
This family, my family was raised by elders showing authority in the form of violence. Violence meaning pain as the teacher. Just look at the dog. Whipped for scurrying into the house during a thunderstorm.
As for the consistency of the sky-high phone bills, i'm guilty for that. Without doubt. But you could always ALWAYS be more subtle.
Hello everybody. I could have the whole new year holiday talking to you and blogging if my modem or rather Telekom Malaysia(i'd prefer to blame govermental organizations) weren't fucktards.
Firstly, I want to announce to the world that i'm a LEGAL DRIVER now. Forget about my first driving test, it was just pure bad luck, as far as my ego is concerned. Now i can eradicate the feeling of guilt, now i can fetch mlia to faraway lands for meals, now i can also fetch bradley go find himself a girlfriend.
"Brad you need a girlfriend." You really do.
Unless you choose to gradually decompose in your bedroom or on camp 5 walls, you desperately need a companion. Me and ming have tried, we even gave you a 20th february deadline. You may hate me for this post but it is necessary. If you cant find yourself a girlfriend, i think me and ming will have to play fat punjab parents and execute the arrange marriage plan. The other alternative is to audition for a dating show.
You CANT date rocks brad, you cant just look at european climbers and go she's hot, you have to stop whining to yourself about whats passed. Step up, go out there and talk to that blonde girl from the mammut climbing team you so like!
I'm saying all these only because i'm a concerned friend and production partner cum climbing buddy cum person who cooks dinner for the both of us for pre-valentines cum fellow borat impersonator cum anti-semitic partner cum friend.
Aiya dude, help yourself lah.
College starts again tomorrow, the thing i hate about college is that i have to wake up earlier than i did back in high school. I set 5 alarms altogether, one at 5.45, 6.00, 6.10, 6.20 and 6.30. So practically i wake up at 5.45, snooze till 6.20, and when i'm in the toilet, my 6.30 alarm that i always unintentionally forget to disarm would unintentionally wake my dad up.
The only other setback is my chemistry teacher. Its easy to impersonate her really. You stare into thin air, keep a straight face, slant your mouth a little to any side of your choice, and say "pass up your book" in the most monotonous voice you can ever eke out of your sweet little mouth. Remember to keep your face as expressionless as though you just injected yourself with botox. And pity the people who'd have to face you everyday.
Oh and march, march brings us our SPM results. While people are contemplating over how many A1s they'll harvest, i'm worrying about whether i can get credits for my science subjects before i disobey my conditional offer and get kicked out of college. Life is tough if you were preoccupied playing Pro Evolution Soccer 5 during SPM trials.
Ya, i forgot, HAPPY CHINESE NEW YEAR. I play poker until i pokai already.
I surpassed my blogging quota for this month. I better stop. (actually i got nothing else interesting to write already)
Being busy is, was, and always will be just an excuse.
After almost 3 years of frantic and/or excessive blogging, was i too ignorant then to realise that blogging might NOT be my thing?
A handful of interesting posts throughout the years does not justify the establishment of my blog. Besides, my english isn't really that good anyway. And you have a pointless, self pity-ing write into my already flacid blogging portfolio.
My ego tells me that regardless of the storm, (some)people still think i'm an interesting blogger. My intuition tells me otherwise.
What is there to write about? I'm as illegal a driver as you can possibly find. I do 120 ks an hour on the LDP, i pick my friends up from their houses, and i also failed my driving test yesterday. How fucking ironic. Bloody 3 point turn, the discipline i execute the most flawless, my instructor didn't have to demonstrate and i'm turning all over the place, and yet i failed in it, the last last last last last move of the whole freaking test. I felt like crying at the driving centre yesterday and i still feel like crying now so i better stop talking about a stupid driving test. You cant legalise me just yet!
I feel so sorry for my blog lah. Last posted on 8th and even so with a meagre ugly short notice. It has been like a drought. Like i said, menopause. Fret not, i assure you now my blog is transplanted with newer, wetter, more active ovaries to overcome this traumatic menopausal period. Why? Cause its college time! Everyone knows everyone else has lots to write about college life. New faces, new classmates, new title for teachers (lecturers), new rules, new people to impress, just kidding lah yor! Almost everyone knows about college proms, college concerts, international female students who speak like men, like my class lah, got one nuratu from nigeria, i heard in the capital they bite off your flesh just to scare you off. Haha, fuck mysef lah i'm so full of shit. Oh ya, in certain areas got college**ckfest also. I think its a porn website. But what the hell, i'm in taylors university college. If you didn't know.
See this is where my brain stops, i preplanned myself to blog about 2 main topics and nowadays i just find that after a certain quota, i become dry again, my brain becomes dry again, i struggle to grind out my words. If only got ky jelly to lubricate my mind, then i might be more effective when it comes to blogging, like how i used to be, when i was younger, wetter. :) Shit la reading back on my post, i feel like a pervert(everything seems to be sex related!!!!!!!!!!!!!). I was telling ben and a few others who gathered around to hear some words of wisdom in class the other day...
"Men who aren't perverts, are weird."
Drawing approval of the majority. Which in conclusion, indicates that i'm weird. Haha. Wtf i'm a fucking HUGE pervert lah (emelia dun be mad). And i'm still weird.
Wahhai, this is the worst post ever to stage a blogging comeback. Haha.
So many colleges. But at the end of the tunnel theres always TAR college. Make my parents stop leading back to that topic everytime we discuss about education. Argh!
I damn lazy to write anything lah. Blogging seems so out of my mind. Everyday i come to my blog i see the same old post. My chatterbox also one week not active already.
Its funny how we only start to appreciate and realize what we have lost after you've departed. I know you have played a wake up call to us in terms of the apprecation of family members and people dearest to us while our blood are still running through our veins, our minds still conscious, our presence still felt amongst ourselves. Although some of us may only be awoken for awhile and revert back to our old neglectful selves, it is a valuble wake up call in terms of my experience an self improvement.
I'm sorry por por, for i have neglected you and your existence. I have never really cared much when you were still walking those flight of stairs mumbling to yourself about how hot the weather was those days, and falling asleep in front of the television with your mouth gaping wide, truth be told, everytime you fell asleep like that, i'd check to see if your chest was still rising and collapsing, still breathing because i had feared you might one day leave us without warning. I'd forgo visiting you for other events or merely just remain home to be with my computer or the television, with the ignorance in my mind assuring me that you have still have another decade or more of being with us because of the status of your health thats always excellent, even during your dying days, i've only visited you once among those 12 days when your condition detiorated. I can still remember me and my dad walking through the sliding doors of the ICU ward to see you lying on your bed with the respirator or breathing aid fastened around your mouth, you could talk then, you told dad how you felt pains in your abdominals and you aknowledged me with a nod, i knew you would've smiled at me if you could. Even as me and dad left, you could manage a that little wave to send us out. Small as it seems, it was the last i saw you as a living, breathing, person. Shame on me for assuming that the operations would all go well although it did and you would be well on your way to recovering and recuperating, only then had i decided to visit you again, citing reasons that i was busy even though i knew i had ample time to just come see you to let you know i care so much for you. I didn't show that care, even when i thought i could, I didn't, once again i was ignorant that you might, you just might leave us anyday soon.
Mum told all of us that you were scared of what was coming in the last few days, i felt for you, i felt that fear as well, probably because you have never visited the hospital in the past 80 odd years but the fear i felt was probably the fear you felt in your quiet heart. I remembered i could make out the racy, fearful voice of yours when you told dad about your abdominal pains while i was beside him. You reduced me to tears when i heard that you finally accepted and prepared yourself for that long journey quietly although everyone knew, you held on, suffered on a little for that one last child of yours, 5th aunty to be back from singapore before you finally let go of the material world. You know por por, i've said it before, but i feel contented for you, i feel contented that before you left us, you managed to personally see all 15 of your children. All 5 boys, all 10 girls, the children you gave birth to, you gave life to, the children you brought up all your life, despite the difficulties, the death of your husband, the hardship of raising 15 children with different age gaps yet they all bond so closely together. Thats is your success, as a mother. It is where people look up to you, people salute and respect you, of all the pain and suffering of childbirth to the final fruit of having 15 wonderful children at the end of your day. You also succeeded as a person. More than anyone who could earn millions.
There were so many things that you have done for the benefit of others, including your own funeral, you blessed us with magnifient weather and the swift and smooth going of the funeral. There weren't any problems at all, in fact, to be honest, it didn't feel as though you had gone, the way the funeral brought everyone together, all your grandsons and grandaughters, everyone along your ancestral line, family friends, it didn't feel like you were gone at all, it felt just like every other new year. Gathered in your big blue house in malacca where most of us cousins and the generation ahead of us grew up in. I swear i could still catch a glimpse of you walking around the whole family from the corner of my eye. Its amazing how you brought us together during your days and you managed to bring us all together again like old times after you passed. There's a certain feel to it.
Honestly, i felt so thankful when i found out that your funeral was a buddhist one. Frankly i was expecting the taoist funeral where the chinese operas would be playing and we would have to obey countless superstitions. The thing about your funeral, is the serenity of it. The chanting, the talks given by the monks about life and death, most of all, the buddhist hymn singing at every end of a chanting session. Everyone chants along with the little puja book in hand, everyone stands up and bows 3 times to you in mark of respect, everyone stands up and sings their hearts out to buddhist hymns. A funeral fit for a calm and noble woman like you.
Por por, i was afraid, i was afraid to see you lying there, under the silk, behind the glass, with a pearl on your lips. I'm not used to seeing an empty shell, a carrier with no mind, a stagnant body. Until i saw you, lying there, under the silk, behind the glass, with a pearl perched in the middle of your lips. I hardly could've recognize you, the formalin injected made you look like a wax figurine, your eyebrows have been tampered, and at times, the dry ice would create too much moisture and leave little droplets of water on your face. But beneath all the beautification work, i know lies a woman beautiful on her own, without enhancements. I swear if i stared long and hard enough i could make out a little faint smile on your face. Everyone came by, and everyone said you looked very peaceful, which i think signifies the way you left, in peace. The first time i saw you, i was captivated, at first i was worried, i was afraid of what you might look like, but after that first glance, i wasn't afraid anymore, my initial thoughts were banished, i couldn't get enough of looking at you. Even to the point when the coffin had to be sealed, i would promise myself one last look of you only to break it after a few minutes. When the coffin sealed shut only the reality shot to me that i will never ever see you as a person again. I felt so devastated, after you left, it was at that moment the thoughts came rushing, little over 3 weeks ago, i saw you, you were still moving, you were still laughing, you were still as energetic and alive as ever. Now, you're sealed in a coffin, making your way to the hearse. The only image of your walk, your laugh, your everything when i could still feel you and talk to you and call you por por is merely just a thought playbacking in my mind.
Sometimes i pray that you'd just wake up in the midst of everything and it would just be a case of mistaken death or probably be the first person to hibernate or anything but its just so helpless to think that you're gone. You made me loathe myself for depriving my time with you. I remember we used to tease you among ourselves saying you look like a mafia boss in those dark shades. Those days are gone, they aren't coming back.
As i stood on the mounds of earth beside your grave, with a bunch of pretty flowers clasp in my hands. I stared at your coffin. Lain at 6 feet under, in a brick cavity. As the monk and everyone present there, 3 busloads, all recited our final prayers, i couldn't stop staring at your coffin, the thoughts again rushing through my head, how i spent time with you, how i'd hug you long time ago everytime we left malacca for kl, you'd give me and my sisters 50 dollars each, again and always, the way you laugh. It sticks with me, when i'm asked to reflect a happy thought about you, i'd think of your laugh, time to time again, i'd think of your laugh and i'd miss it so badly.
Then i threw the bunch of roses and chrysenthemum into your new resting place. I knelt down, picked up a palmful of earth and scattered it down into your grave.
"I'll see you in the next life por por."
We lost you, thats our karma. You left us in peace for a better life, that's your karma. It wasn't only you who passed away, the family and all its traditions passed away along with you.
And now i'm starting feel the vortex, the emptiness of your departure. I know i could never bring myself to tell you this during your days, which is funny why everything only comes out after its all too late.
I love you and i miss you por por. As a grandmother and as a matriach figure not only to me but to everyone in your family, my family.
I sleep with 5 alarms everytime i have to wake up early. But today.
"Jinn, wake up, por por passed away."
I lied in the dim glow of the morning light, just stared at the ceiling. Even before my sister made it clear that my grandma had passed i made it sure myself. I knew what was coming, i knew what she said even before she said it. My mind was just following her like karaoke when she said those words, its all too familiar.
No one took it by surprise because it was very much expected, my grandma had gall bladder cancer. A cancer so rare that universities have been requesting for specimens for further research. It only took 2 weeks from a severe abdominal pain to gall bladder stones, to cancerous cells eating into her liver then poisoning of the blood. Absolute renal failure was the killer blow and she's been in the ICU for a very hectic week as her stability went downhill.
As for me, i paid the price for only visiting her once in the last 2 weeks, i'll never see my por por walk up my staircase anymore, i'll never get to salute her personally for climbing the great wall when she was 82 with us although i never did even if i had the chance. I'll never get to see or hear my mum complain about force feeding her because she was malnutritioned, (she had a petite physique). Chinese new years are never the same anymore, her annual birthday gathering would never bring families together as always, and we'll never go for our annual frasers hill trip on the 24th of every december the same again.
We're suppoed to leave today, but we stayed back to watch her leave for somewhere else. To see my grandfather after almost a 20 year lapse.
Por por's on the right. I've not seen anyone hold chopsticks with so much grace.
I salute my grandmother, my mother's mother, mother of 15 children, grandmother of couple of dozen grandchildrens, great-grandmother of a handful of great-grandchildrens. I salute her for her contribution to the medical field on her dying days. I respect her for staying hospital-free for the past 80 odd years. I'm contented she lived a life well lived with a magnificent family. I'm also contented she got to see all 15 children before she finally let go of the sorrow and suffering. She could've gone earlier but she held on and waited for one more daughter from singapore. I was and still am proud to have and had a grandmother like her.
I'll be away in malacca from tomorrow until thursday, so while you're celebrating christmas back home with your families and lots of presents under that christmas tree of yours, i bid you a HAPPY HAPPY MERRY MERRYCHRISTMAS.
Dont MIT lei sai lou ge lan tao just because he gets a better present. :)
Oh and of course, after a whole week of production. Finally, me and brad, bradjinn, we present to you our latest video. Please put those banners up on your blog as well! Thats a RAP!!
Blessed with another summon today. Bloody scratched and dented this HUGE long scratch and dent on my car as i squeezed through a narrow passage with utmost confidence. I swear it wasn't me, it was my ego. 
