Shanghai Baby

"Having danced inside the music and soared inside our own euphoria, at one in the morning we returned to our apartment. We didn't wash, just threw off our clothes and lay down on the bed. The air con was on full blast, and even in my dreams I could hear the its buzz, like an insect's cry. My dreams were empty except for that one troubling sound.

Early the next morning, as soon as the first ray of sunlight showed, I opened my eyes and turned to kiss Tian Tian. My hot, hot kiss was imprinted on his cold, cold body, which was glowing white. I shook him hard, called him, kissed him and pulled his hair. Then, I jumped out of bed naked and ran on to the balcony. Through the glass I stared at the bed inside the room, at my lover's body lying there. I stared for a long, long time.

Tears flooded my gace and I bit my fingertips. I cried out: 'You fool!' He didn't react. He was dead, and so was I. "


" 'You devil, you evil spirit, ten years ago you murdered my son, but that wasn't enough. Now you've murdered my grandson too. Your heart is black. I curse you: may you be struck dead by a car the moment you learve your hellish restaurant...'

She began to push the door again, and I hurried towards her and took her by the arm.

'Grandmother,' I called softly. 'I'll take you home. It's about to rain.'

She looked at me suspiciously, and looked at the sky above us covered by thick blanket of clouds, dark red from the city lights.

'Who are you?' she asked in a low voice,

My heart fluttered. A feeling of tenderness and bitterness engulfed me, and for a moment I didn't know how to answer this tired and helpless old woman.

Who am I, indeed? Who am I? "

Shanghai Baby, an extraordinarily heart-touching story, was a journey of self-discovery of a Shanghai girl. I want to remember this book as long as I could, remember every twist and turn of the story, remember how the characters laughed, drifted and cried. It is special to me only becuase it is so straightforward... not trying to hide even the most hideous part of life...

I couldn't say much about Shanghai Baby, except the thumping of my heart whenever I read about Tian Tian's death...

my MP3

Today my MP3 fell into the toilet bowl. I don't know how it happened, but it just did.

Sad as I am, the agony is not merely because I lost an MP3, but it is also because it marks the death of something that reminds me of my past. It's definitely time for the end of it, and maybe I should just feel happy.

But suddenly, everything that was familiar, every pain and hate, gush out like the breeze that can take you of your feet, and I found myself lost in my own internal, silent sobs.

Remembering the past, I just want to stand at the 8th floor of E block, and shout on top of my lungs that "I'm not guilty!!". I'm not guilty, I repeatedly tell myself. Merely because I'm the sole victim of his promises that have never been able to realize. Back then when our love was just budding, I told him childishly that I was crazily in love with the paddy fields, and would really like to walk among them. He claimed hopefully that his house was just 15 minutes from the Sungai Puyu paddy fields and he would cycle me there once I finished my STPM examinations. I can still remember how happy I was when I thought I've found somebody who took me seriously and would try his best to help me realise my every dream, no matter how trivial it is; and later, how disappointed I was when I proved myself wrong.

Everybody on his side will throw a look at me at the corner of his eyes and defend him by telling me that the only reason he COULDN'T do that is because he's busy building the foundation of a better future for me. He's too into his work, thinking that it will be the only passport for me and him to a life without worries together , and it's too cruel to shoo him off with the reason of lack of attention on me when he's paying it in another form. I'm often polite but sometimes when the pain is too much, I just wish I could tell them "Bullshit!". There is simply no reason you can give for negleting one's feelings, although you might be doing something for that person. If you don't care about my feelings NOW, don't tell me anything about the future!

I'm usually not good at reasoning to others about my own feelings, because I often come lacking for the ability to express them completely. It is even more true in the incidence of breaking up with him and also in the endless happenings that followed. And in this case, I often feel that I'm not understood, just like Vincent Van Gogh until the day he died.

My MP3 is still dripping exactly how an MP3 shouldn't be. I just hope that some of the agony can just drip off me like the water and tomorrow I can wake up finding that I am completely dry and smells fresh again. But I know that this is not the first attempt to lay things down, and it wouldn't be the last. It's just like trying to take off a wrinkling coat, only to find that you have another one under it.

It's still under the one year warranty, but I'm not sure whether the technician will want to repair a crying MP3.

The dreaded Willoughby

One that have done so much injustice to another, should never be excused, even by his own pitiful disposition.

If you guys have no idea about whatever I'm talking here, google the net for Willoughby, and I think you will get enough explanation.

I have been so affected by the story that I can't do anything than to talk about it on my blog... so much that his misbehaving reminded me of my own, that while I condemn him for his faults, I cannot help but check that I have done as much wrong as he did, that I myself, should deserve the same kind of condemnation. For how ever pitiful his situation may seem, there is always an opportunity, every now and then, for correction. But by believing that no retreat is possible, he submitted to everything beyond his wish, and thus made his faults certain. For whoever that have caused such cruelty and sufferings upon others, the wish for fogiveness should never be fulfilled. Willoughby should never seek forgiveness from Marianne, nor Elinor, because they have went through life and death at his expanse and a touching story of his sympathetic situation could never make up to their endeavours. And I really hated him, the dreadful Willoughby, to hope that by narrating his sad disposition, the sisters will think better of him. That, is simply unforgivable!!! If you really suffered so much for causing the cruelty, how would the feelings of those who have to go through the effect of it be??

Why can't we just reflect on our mistakes and move on? It is too much to ask for forgiveness, when we don't deserve it. It will be better for the sisters to remember Willoughby as the heartless dog, than a pathetic gentleman who cannot act as he wished. It is sometimes better to remain guilty, for in the punishment, we can hope to seek comfort...