Beatle Bugs

I have always like to think of myself as having grown, becoming open to the differing opinions, paradigms, perspectives and values.

Perhaps I've been ambitious in my thought. Perhaps I've taken a wrong line of acceptance - isn't it that when you accept you do not question the whys, the hows, the whos and the what? 

I am bugged and bummed out. Cos when it comes down to certain matters and state of affairs (no pun intended here!), there are some lines I cannot cross, try as I may to be accepting. And it was with that that I had to tell a friend that from henceforth, there is one area which I will NOT go there with. That for one part of his journey called His Life, he walks the rest of the way, without me. 

What would you think if I sang out of tune,
Would you stand up and walk out on me?

I'm bugged cos this is the same friend that I had said - anytime, anything just call and I'll be there, in the next barstool. I feel as if I'm bailing out on him. Yet, I've tried and tried till I'm turning blue in my unseen face. And I have to admit defeat. 

Lend me your ears and I'll sing you a song,

And I'll try not to sing out of key.

I'm bummed cos everyone else in the same circle seems to take it in their stride, this on-going saga. And it has left me wondering if I may have inadvertently hoodwinked myself into thinking that one day, one wedding and numerous online chats later, a strong bond of friendship has blossomed. Blossomed to the point that I think I know said person well, when in fact, I know them not at all. And the who I thought I knew, I placed on some angelic pedestal. And now he lies in a heap of broken marble on my floor.

Tis sad. Tis heartbreaking.

But this is not a case of asking one to choose. There is nothing to choose. And we're not 8 year olds in the school yard, having a recess time disagreement. 

Oh I get by with a little help from my friends.

While saying I'm sorry may not mean very much here and now, I will still say it nonetheless. Cos that's just who and how I am.

So as I crawl away like a beetle bug, I'm sorry mate. You've sung way out of tune and it's jarring my ears.
 

Timing and The Bit on The Side

When I sat down and wrote about Raphael Selbourne this morning and his book, I didn't think that at the end of the day, it would come back and hit me in the face.

But it only goes to show that in the list of many "perhaps" - there lies the reason shrouded in a puff of smoke that we often use as a screen. And because I don't think YOU heard me the first time round, I'm saying it here again - FOR YOUR BENEFIT:

The key to freedom lies within each and everyone of us. It is a conscious decision to choose and accept the consequences of the path we take.

Enough with the skirting, the excuses and whatever else you wanna hide behind. I cannot call myself your friend (let's not even add the 'b' and the 'f' if I didn't start throwing my shoes at you in quick succession:

Grow some bloody Cojones!

And in case you're wondering: Yes I am pissed at you and with you! Lie to everyone else if that pleases you. But the minute you start lying to US - don't expect us not to be upset with ya!

Free

I've just finished reading Beauty by Raphael Selbourne. It is a book that has made me sit up on my bed, in the middle of the night, with its message.

It is an old one, yet seems to be one lesson that refuses to stick in our heads for some strange reason.

Perhaps it's because we're not subjected to an extreme opposite end of it. Perhaps we're not truly in a state of forced oppression that we fail to remember.

The key to freedom lies within each and everyone of us. It is a conscious decision to choose and accept the consequences of the path we take.

I suppose, living in our democratic world, we do have the freedom to choose and make our own decisions. I also suppose it's the 2nd half of this two-step that many of us fall and fumble with. And while some may choose to hide behind the "why do I need to justify myself to you?" mode - in part, perhaps, it's because we cannot justify it to our own true self.

In this case then, it sure is nice to be a literary figure - your life starts and ends only on paper. And once set in type and print, there is no justification needed.

Coming Of

I really should have written something, anything, last Friday. But things were just so crazy that to scribble anything without much thought, would have been blasphemous.

So yes.... I am now a business owner. I clock my own time, I determine my own direction, I sit in the biggest chair in the office. But really - what does it all mean? There must be something about it that I am missing in the midst of all the felicitations that I've been receiving. Yet, I do not see it.

All I see is endless days of worrying, especially around the payment dates. Sleepless nights of wondering - am I doing the right thing, the best thing for the campaign. Headless days of running around errands that never before crossed my path.

I suppose, after much thought, the point I am missing is not physical or material. It is a mental state - the shifting of paradigm that goes on unexplained. And there are no marks to indicate that changes have happened, had happened. No tangible that one can see in the second it happens.

In the olden days, they would say it is a coming of age, this subtle change. A cross-over point from one stage of life to another day. And because I believe that all cross-overs must have some demarcation, because I am like a cow with a short-term memory, I must mark it.

And mark it I did. Not so much for myself but for the people who stood by my through it all.

So instead of a COACH bag that I've had my eye on for the longest time, I've traded it in for a set of dining chairs, a series of bookshelves and a brand new sofa for the living room of my parents' house.

And it's not because I now have a little more disposable income. But because I've come of age.

I'm an adult now. You can have kids, you can drive your own car.  But truly, nothing hits you harder about that fact than you're responsible for people who are not related to you by blood or social ties.

I'll have to say it again - I'm an adult now.

Close Your Eyes

It is a rare occasion that I'm at a loss for words. But yet, we all know, somehow, sometimes, the situation is so overwhelming, all the words in all the books you've ever read will not come to mind.

Part of me wants so badly to transcribe what was written and have it lodged here. But an even bigger part of me just wants to savour it quietly as the rain falls outside.

Grand gestures used to be the yardstick, the measure. But as one grows older, one realises that it is all the lil things that should be the measure.

And so as the clock winds down to T-3, this is all I can say:

Close your eyes and see my blue skies breaking
through these dark clouds
You are the light
In my mind I see your red (cap) and my arms are reaching
through the night
I'll never give up the fight
I'll go the distance

Thanks babe! Love ya!

Savour

I went and busted my elbow, trying to protect 4 packets of Walker's crisps from being crushed by this gigantic weight I'm currently carrying. And the whole time as I sat in the emergency room, waiting to know if it was severely busted or merely causing me intense and acute pain for the day, the only thought that ran through my head was - I cannot be with a useless right hand for the days ahead!

In my last post, I wrote about how next Friday would be just another day. But as I opened my enveloped left by the my predecessor, I read the lines and realised that Yes it may just be another day, but it is still a milestone day.

Savour - to relish or enjoy.

Perhaps a day may be too long to savour. Perhaps an hour or two would be decently and gracefully sufficient.

I know it is unChristian-like to say that maybe I'd buy myself a new suit to wear. But heck, that is what I will do. If not for anything else, it is just to tell myself, my days of having to mend and re-mend a torn seam, is just about over.

Call me vain. Call me materialistic. Call me anything you want just because a new suit would make my day. I really don't care and you wouldn't either. When you know that every piece of clothing in my closet right now, has either been there 1) for the last decade or 2) a hand-me-down from my bff.

I will savour this day and I will savour it my way. In my soon-to-be new black pin-striped suit :=)

Just Another Race

The checkered flag is raised and finishing line is just up ahead.

It has been a long and arduous journey. 2 years, 2 months and 20-something days. Lots of ups. Lots of downs. Lots of occasions and opportunities to throw my hands up in the air and scream "I quit!" 

I'm glad I stuck to it. As I told the young ladies who came yesterday to inquire - "Figure if this is really what you wanna do. Cos it's not the time and money spent that will be wasted. But the blow to yourself that you have failed that would be the biggest loss if you turn away."

But here's the thing that I also remembered a few seconds later - another phrase that I always tell the students - "This is just the beginning."

I'm nervy. But I'm also trying to realign my expectations. 1st October is going to come and I will wake up and find that it is just another day. Nothing's changed very much outwardly. And that I'm gonna have to be ready for.

It's just the end and only the beginning.