high.

I shouldn't be writing now but my hands are itchy like that.

I know someone, lets call him Malik, who was a very bright student and good-looking. He lived in Bangsar with his wealthy parents. Earning a five-figure salary every month in the 80s is impressive, don't you think? His father was smart too, graduated from one of the top universities in the world.

I don't know what happened, but his father became a womaniser, spending the company's money like mad. It affected his work performance and was fired. He never reclaimed his glory days after that.

Now, lets talk about Malik. Malik was popular in school. He had everything, good looks, music talents, brain, money. Living in the heart of KL, he was introduced to drugs at an early age. Plus with his family situation, he grew up to be angry and rebellious. Never had a proper tertiery education even. He is now very skinny, old, jobless, all thanks to the drugs.

It is sad to see a boy who used to have so many potentials in him, turn out to be running around the neighbourhood half-naked because he was high on drugs. Once, he even pointed a knife to his own mother.

A successful businessman told another businessman who told me this:
Nak berjaya, perlu ada dua benda
- jangan tinggal sembahyang
- jangan main perempuan

A woman can destroy everything you have ever worked for. Trust me. I've seen it. Some of us can be very poisonous.

Drugs.
I am not familiar with the drug industry in Malaysia. But from friends, I know it is easily available.

Probably because I didn't grow up in an urban area, I was very surprised when an 17 or 18-year-old girl admitted that she is a regular drug user. I thought she was too small and too innocent for drugs and she came from a very good family background. How could she be too stupid to get addicted?

I am trying to understand the minds of drug users. I know, some of them were born unfrotunate, nobody to guide them, too stressed for such young souls, that they turn to drugs for comfort. But there are also those who use drugs because they can. The second kind is the people who purposely invite troubles in their lives. I give them none of my sympathy.

Ganja or weed, to me, is the lowest class of drugs. According to my observation, people who are addicted to weed are normally temperemental. They beat their wives. They can be sweet at times, but they have terrible mood swings.

I could never imagine myself to marry a drug user. Most of the wives knew about their husbands' bad habits before tying the knots. But, we, women, always hope that they will change, because the men promised us so. When we realize it will never change, it is already too late.

I don't know how some women could overlook this fact in finding their husbands.

Haha, look who's saying.

I was involved with a person who was a regular drug user. When I met him, he said he had stopped. I welcomed him in my life.
Things weren't going so well between us, so I called it off, but he always threatened me.
He said he would be so crushed without me, only drugs could numb his sadness.

I didn't want to be responsible of him returning to his bad, old habit, so I gave in, many times. One day, I realized, I couldn't control this guy, he should be responsible for his own act, it is not my fault if he decided pollute his body with drugs, why would I take care of someone who wouldn't want to take care of himself?

I've had enough.

I think, the drug use also contributes to his regular visits to the psychiatry department for therapies.

At first, he blamed me for making him go crazy. I felt guilty for months. This guy has his own ways to abuse me mentally. He stalked me so bad, he once broke into my house to steal my bra. How did I know? He told me so!

The therapy helps him in some ways, I think, because he is no longer angry with me, but I would avoid any possible contacts with him.

Jangan buat jampi-jampi dekat coli tuh, sudah...

drama mama.

Have you ever felt suicidal before?

When I was 18 or 19, I always thought of how I was going to kill. I knew I am not brave enough to slit my wrist or hang myself, so I thought, jumping from the 18th floor is the easiest way to die.
As I know suicide is not accepted in Islam, and I really want to go to heaven, I imaginatively created another way to die:
- Stand by the window, somebody surprises me, I lose control, fall.
or
- Suddely is woken up by bees swarming over me, I close my eyes, I cannot see, I run and run, and fall.

Both are accidental, so, it is not really my fault if I died, eh?

How severe was this thought? Lets say, whenever I was taking a break from studying, I would look at the window and imagined myself doing the above.
Sometimes, I really stood by the window and bent my body halfway.

One other reason why I like to stand by the window is I like how night breeze brushes softly onto my skin. I feel livelier everytime. Just like when I am at the beach.

Why I wanted to die? Because I thought I was going to fail my exams. I fear the embarassment the most. I'd rather die than repeating my course or settle down for something less than expected.

Oh, did I tell you there was someone who jumped off the building? From the 11th floor, I think. I heard his scream. Or was it the scream of someone who saw him fall? I don't know, but a scary scream that I ignored because I thought it was just another stressed student screaming in the exam season.
I saw his body. I saw big cars came and went. I saw the ambulance and the police cars. I saw his friends.

I thought, wow, somebody actually fell from this building, just like my vision. Thank God he was not me!

I was the craziest at this age, driving madly and secretly hoping I would be involved in an accident, just because I didn't want to study for my exams. I thought, if I was hospitalized, I couldn't sit for the exams.

I passed my exams with flying colours, shocking not only me, but my parents, lecturers and some of my friends.
I am not that stupid afterall.
Cuma drama mama sahaja...Hehehe...

Now, I no longer have suicidal thoughts but I get more depressed.
I don't know how severe is my depression, I am never close to anyone who has depression before.

I cry for no reason.
I notice I cannot be left alone or this depression would cloud over me. Betulkan, bila keseorangan, memang banyak setan.

Do a depressed person know that he/ she is depressed initially?
At what stage should I consult a doctor about this?

Or is this another drama mama part of me?

Today.

The ex still hasn't replied my e-mail yet, I guess he is not going to, it has been more than a week of silence.

WHAT?!!!!

I haven't even told him about how happy I am with my new man! The last e-mail I sent to him was very brief, about how I want to be married but have to postpone the plan due to some unavoidable circumstances.

I want him to know the details, like what he did to me when he was getting married!

Well, the wife probably found out about the e-mail exchange and make him swear not to reply my e-mail...But, it feels good anyway!

Oohh...And happy fasting to all Jewish out there.

Jewish friend: We are tougher than you...
Me: What do you mean?
Jewish friend: Because, we fast for 25hours straight!
Me: Yeah, but we fast for one month.
Jewish friend: But that's nothing, I always skip my breakfast and lunch...
Me: You'll be sleeping when you fast. We couldn't sleep more than half-day, or our fast wouldn't be counted.
Jewish friend: But you get up in the morning to eat before you fast.
Me: That's for preparation. Even a glass of water would do, and it's not even compulsary. You too could eat before you fast!

I dreamt just now. In my dream, mother was asking whether I am still seeing my boyfriend. Mother was calmer than usual (calmer than she would be in reality when talking about my relationship with my boyfriend) so I tried to explain things to her. I cannot remember whether I cried in the dream.

As the conversation went, I got angry and sad. I acted like a spoilt child, saying things like:
"Mak kejam! Kejam!"
"I wish you were not my mother!"

I woke up. Why did I utter such horrible things to mother in my dream? Do I really hate her, subconciously?

You and you.

At last, I am here.

I have been in out and the country, in and out of the state, busy.

A vacation with friends, a visit to my boyfriend's hometwon, and most importantly, my first meeting with his parents, which by the way, went well.

I was even given gifts! I like gifts, I like free things, so I was happy, and still am happy.

The best thing is, I stayed in a five-star hotel, with a room with two king-sized beds, and for me and only me alone! Macam anak raja! And again, I like free stuffs, so I took the opportunity to take all free soaps, shampoos, pens, paper, everything available for free!

Kiasu betul. But that's me!

Right now, at this very moment, I am chatting with my ex-fling who is still hoping to have me.

He complimented me on how great I look and he told stories about his family who adores me, about his grandmother who always ask about my well-being.

I am touched.

I told him, "They like me because of what I am doing, right? They wouldn't like me if I was just a waitress".

He denied. He said the real reason is because of my attitude: humble and respectful.

And all I did when meeting with his family was laughing.

Strange. Because my boyfriend always say that he likes me so much because I am so humble.

I don't think I am humble, cuma biasa-biasa saja, not even likeable, because I do have enemies of my own. I have cold wars with people, I sense they are many people who don't like me, I just know.

Anyway, I am glad I have been lucky. I charm parents. But for men to impress my parents, that's hard. Really.

It didn't bother me much because I never had the strong urge to settle down. It used to be, even I was happy that they disagreed, because they helped me add another reason to 'why I cannot marry you' speech.

It is different now. Now I've met the one, I have become braver to oppose my parents. I shouted like when I was a kid. I defended my boyfriend, I fight for him.

I hope my parents will understand on how important my boyfriend is to me, and how much I want to make it official.

To mother and father, please don't make me choose between you and my boyfriend.

Life's a big puzzle

I like this blog because I am anonymous and I am free to have my thoughts written down without fear or shame. Thoughts that I could not mention to people I know for fear they would judge me and how my family and I live.

Like that time when I was six and I saw my parents having sex. I just stood there, watching, until my parents realized I was staring directly and asked me to go back to sleep. I did not know what it was, but they all make sense now.

Like that time when I was nine and I found a book about sex under my parents' mattress and read it but never understood it until years later. Then, I tried to search for the book again, but I it was never found.
Funny, hiding the book under the mattress...As a kid, I like to hide and lie under my parents' bed. That is how I found the book. And some money...Funny...

I have a friend who aborted her foetus.

I could not stop her. I found out after she did it.

If you look at her, you'd never guess she is no longer a virgin. A normal Malay girl complete with tudung to everywhere she goes. She is successful in her studies too.

But that's life.

I bet if you look at me, you'd never guess I had a phone sex before! Hahahaha....Kecoh, phone sex pun nak kecoh ke....And I am not even sure if that is considered a phone sex!

I condemn those who abort, even those who support abortions!

Of course, I allow exceptions to mothers whose lives at risk.

Ibarat meludah ke langit, terkena batang hidung sendiri.

Because I think my mother had an abortion.

I could vividly remember how we went to a clinic (not in Malaysia) and I asked my mother why were we there.

"Nak cuci perut..." my mom answered.

I was young, probably around 5 years old. She left me in the waiting lounge and came back a while later.

This stuck in my mind. Although I can never be sure of what really happened, I know for sure she went for an abortion. Something at the back of mind tells me so. Probably there is something planted deep in my brain, something that proves my hypothesis, but I am not sure what.

And I don't know why this event is one of my earliest memories in my life.

Don't you think it is amazing, how life is like puzzle? As you grow older, the things you remember when you were young finally fit the picture. It is like unfolding a mystery.

And you say, "Aaahhhh....It makes sense now".