Wednesday, August 26, 2020
Monday, August 24, 2020
Heartfelt Thoughts
So, I guess we’re back to square one.
Or a crossroad, shall I say.
Now that I have much more time on my hands to muck around with, I’ve been reflecting on the decisions that led me to the person that I am today. Deep thoughts are known to result in a headache and derailed emotions for me, which is why I rarely engage in them unless I have to. Yet I see a pattern emerging: whenever I’m downhearted, I’ll push all of my friends away while I hide in a dark abyss where no one can reach me - all while maintaining a neutral expression in reality. Even my text messages would not reveal the slightest inch of my emotions. It’d take those who know me through and through to reach out when I’m not myself instead. It’s just part of who I am. I’ve never been one to speak of my truest feelings unless encouraged by someone close. Whenever I’m elated, I’m hyper to such a stage where I can jump from wall to wall - figuratively. You can tell from my nonverbal cues too.
Being the girl that sat on the stone brick wall fencing in Glenelg, it was one of the rarest moments in which my eyes betrayed my innermost sentiments. My thoughts ran like wildfire just as my sister caught a candid photo of me. My lips curved upwards but my organ of vision portrayed something else: something close to severe exhaustion.
“Fed up of life” was what she described in the days after that.
The picture is still with me, buried somewhere in the photo vault. And years later, that look has turned me into a sleep deprived bear who stayed awake for centuries and earned me a rather entertaining nickname
I’ll be reaching yet another milestone in a couple more months and truth be told, I’m not sure how to feel about it. All of the dreams that I had envisioned for myself have been derailed by unforeseen circumstances to such a stage where I compiled it, squashed it into an unmarked wooden box and threw it into the open seas (read: the Malacca Straits) before hiding the keys in a different location. The reason being that holding on to it would repeatedly break my heart and remind me of something that I’ll never have, even though my brother has offered to realize it in exchange of seeing me smile like a kid with candy again. In short, I’ve lost faith. Too many things have happened over the years that I lack the courage to hope for the fear of deep disappointment. Trust me, the disappointment will tear straight into my heart and leave me feeling as if there’s a weighted invisible cloak enveloping me.
“I’m drained,” was what I told my brother in the months after that.
You could say that what I experienced caused me to make drastic decisions to protect my emotional well-being from further harm. Yet you’ll never see this unless you’re lucky enough to be close to me. I’m not someone who easily lowers her guard unless I’m sure you have genuine intentions.
Maybe it’s for the best that I be like a sensitive oyster closing its shell upon detection of noise pollution. Maybe I won’t have to continuously see the dark side of people anymore.
Or a crossroad, shall I say.
Now that I have much more time on my hands to muck around with, I’ve been reflecting on the decisions that led me to the person that I am today. Deep thoughts are known to result in a headache and derailed emotions for me, which is why I rarely engage in them unless I have to. Yet I see a pattern emerging: whenever I’m downhearted, I’ll push all of my friends away while I hide in a dark abyss where no one can reach me - all while maintaining a neutral expression in reality. Even my text messages would not reveal the slightest inch of my emotions. It’d take those who know me through and through to reach out when I’m not myself instead. It’s just part of who I am. I’ve never been one to speak of my truest feelings unless encouraged by someone close. Whenever I’m elated, I’m hyper to such a stage where I can jump from wall to wall - figuratively. You can tell from my nonverbal cues too.
Being the girl that sat on the stone brick wall fencing in Glenelg, it was one of the rarest moments in which my eyes betrayed my innermost sentiments. My thoughts ran like wildfire just as my sister caught a candid photo of me. My lips curved upwards but my organ of vision portrayed something else: something close to severe exhaustion.
“Fed up of life” was what she described in the days after that.
The picture is still with me, buried somewhere in the photo vault. And years later, that look has turned me into a sleep deprived bear who stayed awake for centuries and earned me a rather entertaining nickname
I’ll be reaching yet another milestone in a couple more months and truth be told, I’m not sure how to feel about it. All of the dreams that I had envisioned for myself have been derailed by unforeseen circumstances to such a stage where I compiled it, squashed it into an unmarked wooden box and threw it into the open seas (read: the Malacca Straits) before hiding the keys in a different location. The reason being that holding on to it would repeatedly break my heart and remind me of something that I’ll never have, even though my brother has offered to realize it in exchange of seeing me smile like a kid with candy again. In short, I’ve lost faith. Too many things have happened over the years that I lack the courage to hope for the fear of deep disappointment. Trust me, the disappointment will tear straight into my heart and leave me feeling as if there’s a weighted invisible cloak enveloping me.
“I’m drained,” was what I told my brother in the months after that.
You could say that what I experienced caused me to make drastic decisions to protect my emotional well-being from further harm. Yet you’ll never see this unless you’re lucky enough to be close to me. I’m not someone who easily lowers her guard unless I’m sure you have genuine intentions.
Maybe it’s for the best that I be like a sensitive oyster closing its shell upon detection of noise pollution. Maybe I won’t have to continuously see the dark side of people anymore.
Wednesday, August 19, 2020
Piccoli Lotti Artisanal Gelato in SS 18, Subang Jaya
With the events of the past fortnight a faint distance in my mind, I slowly trained myself to brace for a new normal. My calm acceptance of the consequences might have been a result of me expecting it weeks, if not months in advance. It’s not like throwing fits about it would change anything either.
It’s been a while - at least two years and counting - since I last delved in the realm of food reviews, making this my slow and tardy return to a once-familiar topic. Blame the delay on life’s responsibilities of studies and career.
After procrastinating for weeks to sample the lovely dishes of the new kid of the block (Piccoli Lotti Artisanal Gelato Subang Jaya), I was driven towards there as a result of what you can call an emotionally testy week. You could also say that seeing a chum tasting it compelled me to give it a try too. I sprinted there after dinner at Mama Carrie’s favourite haunt, hoping that the dessert place was devoid of crowds considering that it was a weeknight. A quick peek into the glass windows revealed everything: there were built-in furnitures towards the front of the cafe and a stand-alone table with roughly six chairs towards the back followed by a compact outdoor dining area for those who wanted Instagram-worthy pictures of the decorations heightened by a twinge of serenity.
Standing guard at the door was a table with a book spread open to the last page, bearing details of visitors of the day who opted not to check-in with the QR codes of MySejahtera & SELangkah and an employee ever-ready to scan your body temperature with the infrared thermometer. Throwing consideration to the fragile and uncertain times that we are now in, it’s pertinent that you record your entrance through the portal of MySejahtera or SELangkah. If you so wish, you could always pen your name, contact details, and your temperature in the log book provided.
Being the only customers for the moment proved beneficial as it granted us the luxury to choose our seating arrangements. Once that was determined, I dumped my bag on the chair to exert sole possession of the table while protecting it from other diners who might arrive for desserts while I was away. I moved towards the cashier and the industrial fridge not too far to survey the choices of gelato that Piccoli Lotti offered.
But one flavour caught my attention the moment I laid my eyes on it: Genmaicha.
And so that was what I ordered: “a single scoop of Genmaicha, please.”
Translated as toasted brown rice green tea, it’s part of the green tea family but distantly related to the more commonly known matcha. One packs a nutty punch and leaves a pungent aftertaste whereas the other carries a slightly bitter kick to the palate. I was a tad bit apprehensive with my selection because genmaicha was something that I always took as a drink in our family, not part of a dish and that was rare in itself.
The first bite reeled me in like a fish to a hook. It tickled my taste buds, leaving a bitter but not overly bitter aftertaste with slight traces of saccharine swimming, and tempted me to reach out for a second scoop to satisfy the sweet tooth. Factoring both my pancreas and liver, I promised myself that I’ll return for another time to sample a differing flavour and possibly compliment with a round of favourite caffeine.
Location of the shop is as follows:
Piccoli Lotti Artisanal Gelato,
It’s been a while - at least two years and counting - since I last delved in the realm of food reviews, making this my slow and tardy return to a once-familiar topic. Blame the delay on life’s responsibilities of studies and career.
Standing guard at the door was a table with a book spread open to the last page, bearing details of visitors of the day who opted not to check-in with the QR codes of MySejahtera & SELangkah and an employee ever-ready to scan your body temperature with the infrared thermometer. Throwing consideration to the fragile and uncertain times that we are now in, it’s pertinent that you record your entrance through the portal of MySejahtera or SELangkah. If you so wish, you could always pen your name, contact details, and your temperature in the log book provided.
Being the only customers for the moment proved beneficial as it granted us the luxury to choose our seating arrangements. Once that was determined, I dumped my bag on the chair to exert sole possession of the table while protecting it from other diners who might arrive for desserts while I was away. I moved towards the cashier and the industrial fridge not too far to survey the choices of gelato that Piccoli Lotti offered.
But one flavour caught my attention the moment I laid my eyes on it: Genmaicha.
And so that was what I ordered: “a single scoop of Genmaicha, please.”
| A single scoop of Genmaicha |
Translated as toasted brown rice green tea, it’s part of the green tea family but distantly related to the more commonly known matcha. One packs a nutty punch and leaves a pungent aftertaste whereas the other carries a slightly bitter kick to the palate. I was a tad bit apprehensive with my selection because genmaicha was something that I always took as a drink in our family, not part of a dish and that was rare in itself.
The first bite reeled me in like a fish to a hook. It tickled my taste buds, leaving a bitter but not overly bitter aftertaste with slight traces of saccharine swimming, and tempted me to reach out for a second scoop to satisfy the sweet tooth. Factoring both my pancreas and liver, I promised myself that I’ll return for another time to sample a differing flavour and possibly compliment with a round of favourite caffeine.
Location of the shop is as follows:
| The exterior of the dessert place |
Piccoli Lotti Artisanal Gelato,
No. 9, Jalan SS 18/1B,
47500 Subang Jaya,
Selangor
Searching for the shop wouldn’t be an arduous task as it fronts the SS17 police station and the fire station on top of the Petronas gas station. The cafe also shares the same street as La Juiceria and Foxhole Bakery.
Searching for the shop wouldn’t be an arduous task as it fronts the SS17 police station and the fire station on top of the Petronas gas station. The cafe also shares the same street as La Juiceria and Foxhole Bakery.
Monday, August 17, 2020
A passerby watching the crowd
 |
Blinding her outlook on life,
Shattering her impression of love,
And tearing her understanding of friendship.
Frozen in the middle of the wide street,
Frozen in the middle of the wide street,
With streams of people treading past her,
Never once taking heed of her presence,
Treating her as invisible.
Her heart weighed by life’s stressors,
Her heart weighed by life’s stressors,
Closes up to those around her,
Protecting her emotions,
Sealing her feelings in a vacuum.
Her legs are heavier than bricks.
Her legs are heavier than bricks.
With each breath,
She summons the strength to face her path,
And the demons that stand before her.
Her eyes are devoid of glimmer,
Her eyes are devoid of glimmer,
Dimmed by the pain she now suppresses,
With the anguish she suffers alone,
Away from her support system.
Her face is fixed in stoicism.
Her face is fixed in stoicism.
The color of ash paints her skin pallor,
Draining her of a soul’s comfort
And lacking radiance.
Thursday, August 13, 2020
Exchanges of emotions
And so, the carpet was pulled from beneath my feet and knocked me off-balance. I don’t have much cushion on my back, so landing with all of my weight on it can be a tad bit painful. But I’ll be fine. Just let me hug my knees closer to my chest and enjoy a moment’s worth of silence while I’m here.
*rests my exhausted head on my knees*
A part of me wasn’t surprised that it ended this way. There were indications of it months before the news was broken. Even weeks beforehand. Maybe it’s for the best that it turned out this way. Being exposed to countless stress amplified by the aftereffects of the virus lingering in the background had done its part of sending me in circles. What was frozen is now melted at a faster rate where there isn’t much time to work with.
No matter how affected I am, there’s a stronger sense of acceptance and peace rather than annoyance at it. You could say that it’s because I expected it to happen. You could also say that there’s relief on my part, which is true. The news came as a sudden to everyone that a couple of them have asked whether i’m okay and how i’m coming to terms with it. The truth is, it won’t alter the outcome even if I were to throw a ton’s worth of fuss. It’s all part and parcel of life, where there are lessons at every curve for us to learn and hopefully implement in the next stage.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not upset or anything like that.
How could I be when I have anticipated it?
It’s resulted in something unexpected, though: my tendency to further keep a distance from everyone around me. Before all this mess, I’ve already stayed an arm’s length away to avoid being reminded of what I’ve dropped to become who I am today and of what could have been if certain things didn’t screw me over. My good friend and sister have no inkling about this because of the geographical distance between us. And this is the one part that still pains me whenever I catch myself thinking about it. My brain still remembers the look in their eyes on the eve of my flight - and it’s not what I’d want to see again: hearts were broken with tears being shed. The fire of happiness being extinguished by the dark. (So much so that I cried my eyes out while at the boarding gate until I wore the look of someone restless. In front of others, I’ve the aura of a strong girl who’s never allowed anything to break my resolve. To those who know me well enough to read me through and through, they see another side of me that I’ve kept relatively hidden from public view.)
At least I’m able to take a chill pill and allow my emotions to recover from all of the beatings while smelling the fresh air. I’ve ignored my innermost wellbeing to cope with the stressors for the past year, so now would be the best time for me to tend to it before it worsens.
*rests my exhausted head on my knees*
 |
| A hideout away from those prying eyes |
No matter how affected I am, there’s a stronger sense of acceptance and peace rather than annoyance at it. You could say that it’s because I expected it to happen. You could also say that there’s relief on my part, which is true. The news came as a sudden to everyone that a couple of them have asked whether i’m okay and how i’m coming to terms with it. The truth is, it won’t alter the outcome even if I were to throw a ton’s worth of fuss. It’s all part and parcel of life, where there are lessons at every curve for us to learn and hopefully implement in the next stage.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not upset or anything like that.
How could I be when I have anticipated it?
It’s resulted in something unexpected, though: my tendency to further keep a distance from everyone around me. Before all this mess, I’ve already stayed an arm’s length away to avoid being reminded of what I’ve dropped to become who I am today and of what could have been if certain things didn’t screw me over. My good friend and sister have no inkling about this because of the geographical distance between us. And this is the one part that still pains me whenever I catch myself thinking about it. My brain still remembers the look in their eyes on the eve of my flight - and it’s not what I’d want to see again: hearts were broken with tears being shed. The fire of happiness being extinguished by the dark. (So much so that I cried my eyes out while at the boarding gate until I wore the look of someone restless. In front of others, I’ve the aura of a strong girl who’s never allowed anything to break my resolve. To those who know me well enough to read me through and through, they see another side of me that I’ve kept relatively hidden from public view.)
At least I’m able to take a chill pill and allow my emotions to recover from all of the beatings while smelling the fresh air. I’ve ignored my innermost wellbeing to cope with the stressors for the past year, so now would be the best time for me to tend to it before it worsens.
Monday, August 10, 2020
Peppers of emotions
After close to six months of having the lines blurred and the scales unevenly balanced, the consequences are there for me to silently endure. Working overtime continuously has injured the soul in more ways than one: the tendency to self-isolate as well as zone out mentally has presented itself even in my personal life, which isn’t good. It means that I’m unable to separate the office me and the private me from each other. Just because my facial expressions are still the same, it’s harder for me to respond to people and maintain my concentration. I’m aware that I need to air my opinions since no one is a mind reader, but I won’t do so in an unencouraging situation because I’ll receive a rude remark for the umpteenth time as a reply. Sure, the feeling of living in a pressure cooker is still around, if not worse than before.
Being referred to as “childish” and “blur” complicates things even further.
Now, you may wonder who’d call me as such. While I never took offence at whatever has been said about it, hearing it within earshot serves nothing but annoy the lights out of me. I’d much appreciate it if it’s being said directly to me. At least there wouldn’t be any misunderstandings brewing in the pot. I wouldn’t reveal much on a public sphere but those closer towards me have been privately informed about this.
Everything has been thrown out of whack, if I’m being candor with myself. What’s made worse is the strong tension and a poisoned aura. I could be left to my own devices, slowly waddling through the delayed paperwork when an anxiety-like attack decides to happen. My limbs are weighted that walking or moving my hands require a great deal of effort. My throat goes dry and I’ll shiver in a warm environment. That’s problem number one. Problem number two stems from the stagnancy in my own life. There isn’t much growth to spur/encourage me to fight harder to obtain what I want… and all I see are setbacks instead.
And yet I dreamt of a good friend. He was walking up a flight of stairs with his pal whereas me and Mama Carrie were walking down the same steps. He saw her first and said hello to her, but she couldn’t recognize him and didn’t return the greetings. He pouted at the shock until I said hello, which delighted him. His eyes shone even the darkest path when he heard my voice. The dream has a double-edged sword to it because on one hand, my subconscious has sent him to sort of comfort me away, but on the other hand, my emotions have been so impacted from my troubled waking life that I’m having negative thoughts all over again.
Or maybe I'm so confused that I can't comprehend what's going on.
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