The day I became a woman...

Yes... I have officially entered womanhood.

I...

I...

I LIED ABOUT MY AGE!

Whyyyyyyyy??? I have NO idea.

So I'm at the gym yesterday morning, and the instructor I usually work out with said,

"Come on! You can lift much more than that! You've been working out for what... 10 years now?"

My reply?

"Huh?! 10 years?! Since I'm 10 or 11?! er...."

"What?! You're only 21? You look so much more mature..."

"Mm-hmm..."

Then he goes on to ask what I do for a living, and at what age did I enter and graduate from Uni and all that jazz... now, those things weren't lies... I did leave school when I was 21, and I did enter when I was 18... BUT I have worked for a year after that!

Geez...

Maybe it's my sub-stuff coming out - you know, I really do feel like I've done NADA for the past year... perhaps in my mind of minds I DID do nothing. And thus, maybe... just maybe... the past year doesn't really exist for me!

I guess this means that, for me, time is not defined by the conventional and inevitable "passing time", but rather by what is produced. Like...

"Hey, how long have you been working on your abs?"

"Oh, about 50 sets of crunches or so."

"How long have you been at PCS?"

"Hmm.... just about 15 reports and 5 projects now."

That's it.

Eureka - I have defined time... more so in a way that I trust the general mind would not just comprehend, but much so appreciate.

Einstein, in yo' face.

So, theory now is, once you have not been productive, time has not passed.

Don't we all wish this.

Well, apparently, I live it!




*Jeez... Zue just realised she's actually about 12, then! Oof...*

Confused

So, there's this sms that was sent to me by a friend asking me to describe him in one word and to pass it on. So I did. I got two replies - one from my brother (M.M. - the zuper one). And he - knowing me oh-so-well - sent back the following message:

In one word... Confused.

Ouch.

How the truth stings.

It has been on my mind since... I KNOW that I'm one confused duckie, but I guess hearing it from him (and we all know how he affects me!!)... I really have to do something about this crap.

How I decided things in the past - I never really was "passionate" about anything... I would just choose, and close my eyes and DO. Not look back, or around... I'd make my mind up by force.

I just thought that with time, you'd someone learn yourself and thus decisions would then be made more "wisely" (whatever that means) and would be based on your... well, on YOU.

Perhaps I do not know myself.

What the heck does "knowing yourself" mean, anyways?

Perhaps, then, it is time to revert to the older (trusted?) technique... diving nose first, eyes closed.

I've just become so afraid... afraid of all kinds of monsters... the monster that calls itself The Bank. The monster that drinks gas (premium gas, at that). The monster called "social life". What about the monster... that horrid most disgusting monster called Student Loan?! Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!

Ok... I gotta stop before I pee myself.

Sometimes I think M.M. (big bro) is my conscience. I've been hanging out with a... er... "different" crowd recently... and everything he has to say has been conscience-like. After telling me about being confused in one email recently, here's what he had to say:

...don’t mask your lack of direction with laughs and limes…

Darn you... darn you to heck!

Why is he always on the button? Cheese and gauges, man...

So, this weekend... I am going to make ONE decision and dive into it...

But what about...

Wha what about...

WHAT ABOUT .... AIDS!


teehee.



*Zuper... yuh too fleckin' spoilt ... suppose yuh was yuh mudder - at 23 having 5 chirren arredy, eh? Yuh want to talk 'bout decisions then?! eh?! shit man...*

Sick

... and tired of crap.

Life is the most unjust happening... ever.

Rasholes win, and feed on their innocent prey.

When a man can beat up his sister and just about to kill her kids before her, and have the full support of his mom...

dat win

What about the mom being upset with the sister... yes... the same one that was beaten and kids being in a state of trauma...

dat real win

I will do anything for you... not everything is against you. I am here. Always. Trust that. Yes... I am going against my own mother.

I am full of sin right now - perhaps... but I refuse to honour my parents at this point.



And at the same time, how is one to function when getting messages from the ex's baby's momma?

Fadda... being good does not pay.

But I won't be anything else.

I can't.

Evil people thrive in this world.


Let's hope that it ain't for long.

Sunshine

Wo shalt ich begin?

Hi - I'm Sunshine. Apparently, I'm bright and sparkly, I'm hot, and I'm in the Sky.

Oh, but Sunshine was a lil hidden by some (PMS?) clouds recently, wasn't she?

Once I'm still hot.

Blah.

I miss you, K! And I love hearing about your trips and travels... Pisa! Sounds mad cool... you lucky Rommy!

HIT B'DOS SOON - S.O.S!

Do we all have some level we reach before swerving over into insanity? I mean, there were times where I pushed and pushed my limits as a teenager, and if I had gotten away with what I was doing, I know things could have been different all now. But, I got it 'beaten' out of me. So is it that whichever form of licks - may it be a literal cut-ras or some other form of psychological beatings - that 'works' on the individual is what is needed before a certain boundary is crossed? And if that limit is pushed "too far"... would lix be still applicable, and effective?

P has gotten out of fleckin' hand. He was allowed to misbehave in school because of "his father's death and his age in adapting to his step-father".

*Whatever*

Shh... I'm telling a story!

*Whatever*

Grr...

Anyways... so, he basically was "allowed" to get kicked out of school - "remember, he really is in sufferin', eh".

Ok.... let it slide.

What about his smoking weed? And his petty crimes? Still suffering, right?

How about his gangsta fights? And his larger crimes? Oh, he's on a trial? What for this time? Ohh... dear... that's... horrible. But so sad... let's pet him up... he needs love that he lost with his suffering.

*Urk*

What?! He pulled a weapon to his own family?! Tormenting them with threats and freezing the children with fear while being locked indoors?!

He's sick... he needs help... come for a hug. There there... all better? What me to pet you up even more for your suffering?

A year passes... things are back to normal. Woof.

WHAT?! He got even worse?! He has a WHAT?! He's threatening to do WHAT?! What did he say?!

No no no.... my son would never do that... trust me. No - he can't own that. Remember, his pride was crushed weeks before - you have to understand his suffering.

Yes - I buy his groceries and take care of his son... yes, it's because I let him resign from his "through-connections-or-else-nada" job. But remember! He's suffering!!!

But we all are suffering due to him, Mom.

But he's my son... you need to understand that.

And I'm your... nevermind.

Exactly - you're stronger... you and him had different strokes in life.

No, we didn't. I was just slapped the minute I tried to rebel.

He has nothing... you have so much already.

Yes - but did I get it by scratching my balls?

Look - people have different tolerance levels. He needs help. He needs me.

And I don't? You know what... ok. He may be your son, but he's no longer my brother.





*Ouch Zue!!!*