no one but u can save yourself

Thursday, 22 December 2011

Predictable, huh??


Forgiven.

I stood motionless and looked at the solid, dark brown wooden door. The house was painted white, and black on the wooden beams and window panes. It looked huge and expensive from the outside. I had to make my mind up whether to knock or press the bell. I turned to face the garden. I thought about going back to my car and drove home. Home. That was where I wanted to be; or was it where I would be after I knocked the door? I sighed and walked to the side where there was a wooden bench by the beautiful garden. I could see that the woman in the family loved the garden. The smell of white lilies reminded me of the florist down the road on Sixteenth Street. I sat on the sturdy looking wooden bench, trying to figure out what I would say if someone was to open the door. I wished I did not find out where she was so that I would not have three sleepless nights thinking of why she left me, whether she was looking for me or whether I should be angry.
I was abandoned at Bliss Home when I was barely four. They said they found me playing joyfully in the playground, innocently thinking that I was sent to school. After three years, I found out that my mother left me at the orphanage because she had to go and find my father who left us when I was two. I was devastated, knowing that my mother left me to strangers. Funny, I thought, how manipulative and contradictory adults could be when it comes to giving advice. Those at Bliss Home took good care of me and made me realise that I was still lucky to be able to enjoy life. Sister Lisa was one of those who managed to make me see that I should make the most of myself than being miserable, grieving my unfortunate life; thinking nobody loved me. I stayed there till I was 12, when I was then transferred to Rouston Public School. Well, Sister Lisa thought it was a good school. Spurred by Sister Lisa’s determination to give me ‘life’, I did my best in Rouston and would go back to Bliss Home during semester breaks or Christmas to be part of the family. Well, I was not sure whether I knew the meaning of that word, but Sister Lisa convinced me that I was part of them when my presence was usually welcomed by freshly baked apple pie and mince meat. Then we would all sit in our warm huge and rather aromatic dining hall. I could still smell Martha’s mouth-watering Yorkshire pudding and roast beef in the kitchen whenever I visited Bliss Home.
It was 8 years ago when I started digging files and tailing endless documents to find out who my biological parents were. Blessed, I found where my mother lived but was reluctant to go and see her. I knew it would shake her down to her knees and she would beg forgiveness for leaving me; that she was young and na├»ve; that she would not have managed looking after me on her own. Even worst, my presence would stop her heart; that she would collapse unconsciously, leaving me feeling guilty instead. Sister Lisa was the one who insisted. At the end of the year, I eventually gave in but forbade her from calling Mom to inform that I was coming; in case I changed my mind. She gladly agreed and even packed me cheese and tomato sandwiches for the journey. I was sceptical when she said that Mom would be waiting for me. If mom knew where I was, why didn’t she come and find me?
My thoughts were interrupted by a butterfly flying right in front of my nose. I looked back at the house to see if anyone noticed my presence. Silence. I glanced at my watch but I forgot what time I arrived, so I did not know how long I was there. I stood up and walked back to the sandy path leading to the house. I stopped at the wooden door again wishing it was an automatic door so I did not have to decide. Spotting a shadow by the window on my left, my heart pumped. Somebody was at the window and was walking towards the door. I found it very hard to swallow a big lump in my throat as my heart thumped against my chest. I thought that I was the one who would be unconscious.
Hi, can I help you?” asked the girl who was standing in front of me with a huge grin. I swallowed hard while admiring her curly blonde. Seeing that, I knew she must be Mom’s daughter. She looked 15, lean and has beautiful brown eyes. Pretty.
Yess.. Ermm yeah.. I was looking for Mrs Collins. Hmm well, is this Mrs Collins’s house by any chance?”
Ohh yeahh.. Hmm..Mom’s upstairs. And I think she’s expecting you. Aunt Lisa told mom this morning.” She smiled pleasantly holding the door. Despite the dazzling big smile, I could see the quizzical frowns on her forehead. I wondered whether it was because I frowned first. Obviously Sister Lisa must have had said something to Mom.
I waited. Looking for words, 1 folded my arms unintentionally and looked away at the lilies, biting my lower lips. I thought of saying that it was a big mistake and should just walk back to my car. After all, it had been 25 years since she left me. It would not change anything, would it?
Owh well, you must be freezing. Please come in, she’ll be down in a minute”.
She opened the door and took my left hand, looked at me in the eyes as if to ask for permission and pulled me inside. As I dragged my feet down the hallway, I could see a family picture on the wall. Something stabbed me, right on my chest. Deep. I could feel the pain that I felt years ago when I found out I was left on my own, and was on the verge of tears. Again, I thought of walking back to the door but I brushed the thought away when I heard the footsteps. It happened so quickly, I was not sure whether I was actually there. My stomach tightened when I saw the hopeful look in her eyes.
William, ohh it’s you. I’ve been waiting for you for what..like..30 years? I knew you would find me. See, it’s in your nature. Being curious, that is.”
Well, as if it was my mistake that she had to wait so long. I thought I was supposed to wait for her to find me, or at least she should have gone to Bliss Home to find out. Silence. I could not say anything looking at her fragile face. I noticed that her daughter was standing by the small coffee table, looking out of the window expressionlessly, pretending we were not there.
I looked at Mom pityingly and sighed. I was unsure of what to say. As if to wait for me to invite her in her own living room, she stood by the door and smiled awkwardly. Despite the quivered smile, I could still vaguely recognise those beautiful brown eyes when she smiled. Then, she looked down at her hands, which she clenched and unclenched nervously. I presumed that she was as uneasy as I was. After a moment, I cleared my throat and forced a weak smile. Seeing that, she ran towards me and hugged me. Sobbing. Tears welled in my eyes. I closed my eyes, afraid that anyone would see me, but I knew she was forgiven.

Life is full of stories...


Unspoken

Darman looked at Aliyah and said. “I don’t know when I will see you again.. and I don’t like that”. She looked at him and blinked her eyes repeatedly as she could feel tears welled.
“And if we do, I think I will not be the same again” he continued and leaned back, shutting his eyes.
“It’s okay, we’ll never know. Well, we might or we might not see each other”. She tried to sound rather calm about it but she knew she was lying. It was the last day when she took him to the train station. He came to visit Somerset as he had a business meeting nearby.
She was ecstatic to know that he was coming and thought about where they would go and what to do for the three days he was there. She even booked a place for him to stay, knowing that would make things easier for him. He did not drive as it was faster to go by train and she even promised to pick him up to take him to Stella Lodge, the place she booked a week before. They had not seen each other for nearly six months. He left Somerset for London after accepting a job there. It broke her heart when he told her his decision but she did not say anything. He had never said anything to her about his feeling but she knew he must have felt something for her. For the constant text messages he sent her and the silence she had if she told him she was going out with her friends having fun. Jealousy? When that happened she thought of lying to him, telling him she was only having a quiet night in, reading books or watching movies because she hated the silent treatment. She hated looking at the phone every second to see if she had any messages in.
She could not spend a day without thinking about him. He was everywhere, in a song, on television, on the road and even in the books she was reading. But she never told him. She kept it quiet because she thought it was for the best. He would be angry if she did not send him a message in the morning, thinking something was wrong. She thought that by sending him messages everyday, she would appear desperate and she did not want him to fall for her just because she sent him messages. Sometimes, they were both confused on what they wanted. They both hated the silence but they both did not want to admit the emptiness they felt when one of them kept quite for a while.
He got out of the car. She signalled to him that she opened the car boot for him to take his luggage. She did not dare looking into his eyes. She knew he cried. She saw the tears but she did not know what to do. She was crying inside. She saw him walking to the back of the car to take his luggage. Then he sat back down on the passenger seat and looked at her. She forced a weak smiled and said “Bye, I’ll see you again okay”. He closed his eyes and leaned back again. “This is not fair”, he muttered under his breath. She sighed but pretended to be strong about it and said “Yeah..well..but you still have to go. I won’t go anywhere. You know where to find me”. Silence. Nobody said anything. They both stared at the windshield, in their own thoughts.
After a while he stood up and said “Okay, let me know when you reach home”. He grabbed his luggage that he put on the ground. “You too, take care” she said and swallowed hard. He closed the door and waved at her. She nodded her head and mouthed ‘bye’ to him. He walked towards the train station and she started to reverse to get out of the car park. She was on the verge of tears looking at him walking away. She sobbed silently while driving out of the car park, wishing she had said something to him to make him stay.

Wednesday, 21 December 2011

somebody please stop me?

This is what i do best..spend money! People say many women have this 'gift'..do u have one? im not proud of it.. but i dont think it is 'lethal'.. it might be a little 'contagious' at times, especially after the things arrived and u really love what u got and think "hmm not bad" and think that u made the right choice by buying them..that u want to buy again to impress urself?? i dont know really, i buy for self satisfaction n i think it's easier to do it on9........(so do i really want somebody to stop me??)
 Below are things that i bought from the internet recently...(these are the ones that i remember as they arrived today and some i ordered yesterday, some i could not find the photos anymore, sold out maybe huh? some i cant remember where i got them from)..

from kasihku iman ent

from bee shop
from bee shop
from chanteks app
from mizzaa cotton
from mizzaa cotton
from mizzaa cotton

from sutera wangi

from chantek app

i had fun tho..but does it mean i have to go out more? am i that sad??  
i think the advent of on9 shopping is great..although some said 'i can get that cheaper at so and so'..but do i have the time to go there??
i think it would depend on what you want and how you want it..
well, do what you want!! =]
exactly, my point!
do the last two look d same? great!! =]

Life as it is..

What make you think you are so good?
Life is short but you think you can gloat
Is it your clothes that make you trot?
Of being you, one must not find fault.

Life is short but you think you should gloat
your words so harsh my ears could pop
As the time passes you will realise I hope,
but you seem to enjoy the life you got.

Your words so harsh my heart could pop
I try to ignore, wishing you would stop
you walk so pompous leading your holly road
What make you think I am no good?

I try to ignore, wishing you would stop
you search for fault to prove what not
What make you think I am no good?
Everything I do will be misunderstood.

You search for fault to prove what not
Since you know all, others must support
And everything I do is all up to no good
What make you think you are so good?