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Speak to My Finger
Books I have completed reading since January 2021:

1. The Enchanted - Rene Denfield
so covid ....
Tuesday. 8.24.21 4:10 am
so covid really traumatises me now.

seeing how my father died from covid in the comfort of his room, and how my mother n i undergone quarantined for 15 days, and how no help came even i begged the authorities to come. the ambulance didn't want to come because his condition was not serious enough despite all medical frontliners said he need to be admitted.

that's the past now...

but still the pain lingers in me.

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Negative kindness
Monday. 6.7.21 4:22 pm
So I just have to write it out from my chest because I have been experiencing this back to back, and it's not a nice feeling at all.

I know I am kind. When friends in need of help, I help them all the way through as much as I can support. I have come to understand I cannot expect them to reciprocate the next time I ask them for help because help from them would come in other forms or sometime in the future. And it's true. There will be people in our life at the right time right place. But for now, I am exhausted. I felt like whatever kindness I have poured into have been negated.

I supported my friend by purchasing the artwork for myself and my friends who have been very good to me. The work is minimalist. I didn't know because the produce was very different from the historical artwork in the collection. I thought what was given to me was a draft. So at first I kept asking whether this is the completed work or not. Of course i have to say the friend actually fulfilled my request to make my face a little slimmer. Haha. Just slightly. So when I found out it was completed, I looked at the produce and realised i wanted to personalise the art by maybe putting the recipient's name. So when I suggested to the friend about name engraving, she said she can think about it. Then I said coz the portrait is quite plain so I would like to put the name below it to personalise. Coz this is a common practise for companies to allow personalisation in corporate gifts. She commented it was minimalist theme. Suddenly my friend blew up, saying never ever comment the artist's work. Even has example like if dislike picasso's work, cannot tell him because that's his truth. yea, of course cannot tell him la. First he is not an immortal. Second, his artwork has been published all around the world. Have you? I did apologise for crossing the border, but I realised I was hurt because the way people tell me what they dislike about me and my words. I bought 4 products to support this friend. No more. I should have told her how she had hurt me when she went around 'forcing' people to reveal her secret santa, which was me. And she didn't even appreciate the food voucher I gave her. She didn't even bother to tell me that she could not make it because she has some commitment on that voucher deadline. So... I used it myself. I never said anything about it. I should.

Then... a friend whom I posted below about the help and how I could not sleep because of his sentence, asked me to support his partner's food business. But you said to me 'go ask someone else for help', right? I should have said the same thing back to u. But I didn't. I even gave u a local platform and encourage u to enlist her products there to test her luck.

And yesterday night, I was given some feedback on some podcast, because I was coughing badly even though away from the microphone. The host just told me directly to mute when i was coughing and time my speech. You could have just texted me and jumped in. I know it's kinda rude for some people to jump in, but just do it as a moderator. u didn't tell people the house rules that we all need to keep to 10 minutes at the start. I was there at the start. I didn't like how direct he was, but I just thanked coz that was useful for me. I will take it. I try to thank it with all my heart though it's difficult. I don't know what am I supposed to learn from all of this, but I know I withheld my tongue from telling him that I don't like how u commented how bossy I was. I should have ask you back how to do deal with people who like to dominate the conversation?

A friend commented my experience as I am kind but experiencing negative feelings. I asked the universe before why, why, why. I keep telling myself that I would stop helping friends. I'm tired of experiencing of this kind of backlash. It hurts. so. much. I'm talkative too, and I cannot adapt to talking to air. So it hurts when I was just trying to interact people. The universe replied because helping people makes me happy.

But this helping business is just sharpening the edge of the knife buried in me every time I receive this kind of comment. I am trying to release it so I can be free from this emotion.

But first, why am I so affected by it? why? is it really the way they talk?

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i don't know why
Sunday. 4.4.21 10:20 am
i don't know why my chest is on fire. i see tonight's dinner is so pathetic: chicken soup only, and i look over to my mother's table on the right. she is watching netflix all day long. and this is a repetition of like other days. just watching netflix as early as 12 pm until 12 am and then repeat the following day. she said she is stressed from cooking two meals a day, so i subscribed lunch on alternate days to ease. but that actually just makes me see so obviously that she is just sitting in front of her laptop waiting to die in the absent of jobs and cooking meals.

and oh, she gets angry of everything and anything. while i sit in my own field of table and chair surrounded with articles related to my masters studies. i don't have time to read my books nor make more money even though i think i have the means.

and yet, my chest is on fire as i stir the idea in my head how can someone just wait to die everyday. i am absolutely stress by that idea, while i sit and read articles on my theories that i have never heard, hoping i did ok in my assignment, hoping i would do well in my exam. and suddenly it hit me, my exam clashes with my freelance work on both days. in the distance in my head, i could hear the fucking desperation in her voice "why am i always cooking? why no else cooks?" well, it's because i am not waiting to die like u that whatever u r doing is to wait for death to sweep ur feet. and oh, u said before i fucking dirty ur kitchen while i was cooking years ago.

nothing can soothe the fire in my chest other than conjuring thoughts like i hate u. how can i not hate u. i look at tonight's dinner that is only chicken soup and u said u r not in the mood to cook. it's not only today, it's an everyday affair with that sentence that it now set fire ablaze on my throat. how i have constraint 'i hate u' from escaping my throat everyday when i see u in front of netflix. how i hated people idling their time so death can just say hi and bye on a later date.

and when death is at ur doorstep, u will think back on all these times and say i have no time to do the things i want. fuck u? u transacts the time with netflix so don't ever tell me u have no time. i really hate people like u, gosh.

if only i can just say out loud 'yea u r so stupid. i don't know why i have such stupid mother like u' whenever u play the sympathy card in the car or in the living room with that scrunchie victim look "aww... aww.. i don't know why i am so stupid.. i am never smart in IT." yea, u r so stupid and a great green-eye person. oh, remember u said why i was willing to teach a grandma to use G suite but not u? yea coz that grandma was actually TRYING to move her cursor to click on those folders whereas u cried and screamed for people to click the tabs for u when ur two daughters were teaching u, as per instructed by u, fucktard.

man, nothing can extinguish my hatred for u. i hate the game u play. a gaslighter, a manipulator, a bully. what a fucking better actor than me. so don't go screaming at the whole block u r in depression. u have all these acting means to help contact ur inner self and release the lowest points of ur life at ur two daughters, and oh to flex ur power 'i am victim' to the whole world. when i announce i feel like killing myself, u told me to shut up because u didn't want to hear it. i didn't want to hear u either.

it's because of u, my dreams were shattered. and i spent wandering without anchor on earth for years because i could not patch back my dreams. i have to reinvent myself while u keep opening my wound.

i just don't know why i have such a stupid mother like u. the flame has traveled from my chest to my nose. i can't breathe. u r suffocating me physically, emotionally and mentally. i hate u.

why do u even bother for death to pick u up? while screaming u have no money? so much time on hand to play victim and watch netflix. u r the cause of my medical bills. u only worsen my medical condition. i never thought i can hate u until awaken the eye of sauron.

but i hate myself the most. i hate myself for being stuck in this house with u. but i don't want to move either because this is my house in my name. u should go. all u want is money. i hate u.

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i want to be alive
Thursday. 3.4.21 2:04 pm
so for the past few weeks, i have been eaten alive by a miserable event where i already knew the ending even before this friend came up to me.

i had a miserable moment of having my mind flattening me over and over again on my compassion. sometimes i even think if i even have compassion, because the way my friends commenting on me, it sounded like i have bulldozed them multiple times without giving them the space to resurrect.

and that's what happened coming 3 weeks ago.

i asked a closed friend for help. i never expected him to help because i already know his reply. it would be 'haha'. like i predicted he just laughed it off, but it really annoyed me. so i asked is it funny? he kept quiet. and then i asked if he could refer me to a friend his age for me to interview for an assignment. i was purely trying my luck.

he replied "you always ask me for help. go ask someone else.'

i replied 'i thought u r my friend.'

he said 'i helped u a lot. and u disturbed my sleep. what la.'

and then i said ok.

what did that sentence mean? 'i helped u a lot.'

i helped u too u know. i helped u find a fortune teller. calling all my spiritual friends for a contact. calling my single friends to check if they r interested to know this single male friend of mine.

i really, really don't want to hear that sentence 'i helped u a lot' because it freaking hurts. because i helped u also.

i could not sleep that morning. oh well, i message him at 0100. but he got a choice to reply or not. is it my fault?

anyways, since then i just leave it because i'm hurt by that sentence. i felt i have been stomped all over.

so a week later, he messaged me checking out if i am still angry with him. i said i m angry at how he declined to help.

i thought he wanted to apologise. i can just throw that thought into niagara falls. he again saying 'it was my fault.' again, saying 'i helped u a lot. and u disturbed my sleep preparation and u always wants answer immediately.'

i grew hotter minus the lava spillage.

if want to apologise, just fucking say sorry and not pushing the fucking ego onto me. i didn't apologise either.

even though i said he can buy me ice cream as apology. but after reading that sentence, i don't feel like eating his ice cream even though i love free food.

i won't find it sweet in my mouth, just some bitter dispute coughing from my heart into my tongue. what's the point?

the next one is a commissioned transcriber. it was horrible. they used a voice detector to do the transcribe and they didn't check if the words correspond with the audio. i spent two days in correcting the transcript. wasting two days of completing the assignment instead.

i hated myself for being kind. i never so wanted to be alive at this moment. some more im under the pressure of completing 4 assignments by mid march. i hated myself for being a slow writer. i hated myself for keeping myself in a non-productive meeting. really hate to be unkind myself as well.

i never so wanted to be alive in this moment.

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Friday. 1.22.21 3:09 pm
I took a creative writing crash workshop because I could not learn it on my own. I just don't have the discipline drive to push myself. I have this tendency of slacking at the beginning of my commitment when I notice some improvement. This is pretty obvious in my exercise regime. So that's why I prefer to enroll in courses so I won't slack especially I have to submit assignment.

But my greatest enemy is not the discipline but my writing speed. I have problems in distilling my thoughts into words and the coherence of sentences. People flew 1000 words in an hour. I could just type 100 words in the same timing. Gosh. A hamster could cycle way faster than me. I kinda hate myself for this. I can try free writing but still I overthink!

So even though I have learnt the skills to write short stories and novels, I still struggle in writing faster. Perhaps, I should really have a writing buddy to push me writing everyday. My instructor is a time terrorist. She would set 15 minutes for us to write 400 words for every exercise she had during class. Of course I completed; don't need to ask a 'kiasu' person like myself. But the quality is doubtful.

So now I have graduated, I thought of resting on my laurels, but one of my coursemates emphasised that I have to keep writing to prevent the knowledge from leaving me. I played her words in my head while walking around my home area for 15 minutes, and ... she really made sense. The reason I took up the course because I wanted to produce something, be it scriptwriting or novel, but something creative using words. And I even considered of having creative writing skills to earn extra money. So if I don't sharpen my skills now, then when? I need to be prepared so if there is such creative writing opportunity arise, I would be ready to undertake, isn't it?

So the past 3 days I wrote my second short story. It took a lot of push to write it, because I am a damn perfectionist (FYI: I have discounted it by 40%), and what I write have to be perfect in one stroke, but there is no such perfection! If there is, all editors would be dead by now! Like some authors said before: We can't edit a blank page. So I need to at least unload some thing. So I did. I have written 1700 words and it's just a draft. A lot of blandness in the pages and I am gonna let them simmer for sometime before I edit since the draft is not even completely dressed.

OMG. This brought back nightmare of my first short story ass for my workshop. I actually don't know why the instructor actually made us write 5k assignment. It's actually extremely horrifying for a first-timer to vomit that much of words. Writing 1k words for story is a struggle to me, let alone 5k. So I spent 1 week to finish a story. And then edited 7 times. And then coursemates and instructors said it still need editing! Kya~~~

The 5k ass had to incorporate all the lessons I learnt. Luckily there's a cheat sheet in planning the story so I have a backbone. Despite that, the backbone changed as I was transferring the story from my head to Google doc. Like now la, while writing my second story, the gut is telling me to write in the second character's POV. OMG. I am lazy la. Can we skip that? If I am ambitious, I will combine 2 POVs in the story. The heck. That would be another 5k story.

If I could be a 5k word machine, it's good because I can be a novel marathon runner, except it's not good if I want to publish it. Many short story publications have word limit of like 2k? Why want to spend extra energy to write 5 k when I have to chop 3k? There's also wisdom in my instructor's words that I need to get the story off my brain. Otherwise, I would be irritated like an unsatisfying customer for not getting what she wants.

So my second short story is still short of emotions stuff, and a lot of literary devices. Ok. My head now hurts of thinking of the techniques in weaving the literary devices in order to push the story. So maybe I need to revise the story goal to be short and sweet.

I think I am just a long-winded hag in short. HAHA.

I really admire all those writers out there whom I have read their short stories especially those award winning. Where do those ideas come from? I read an editor's foreword that if the writer can write good it means she/he understands why he/she writes. Err... then why do I write?

I have read so many ingenuous short stories that I feel like typing out their stories so there is a transference of creative writing skills. Wishbones won't be able to grant this in this lifetime la I guess.

Well, Rome is not built in a day so is my skills. My life experience is already a wealth of story inspiration. I just need to be patient in developing the voice to transfer my ideas into words.

ganbatte ne!

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Wednesday. 1.13.21 11:48 am
I was going through my old posts to see what noise I made. =)

I don't even remember those entries when I reread. I even asked myself many times if I even dreamed them! Haha.

I wrote a post about the correlation about the song below and a former friend. I now can pollute the air with my singing with profound enjoyment that I first grew when I first head this song almost 10 years ago.

Don't know why lately I remembered him. And yea, when I went to my linkedin, his last message popup. It was our last correspondence. I saw his face and saw he had switched to a better job. Good for him. Better status for him too. I am happy for him and hope he found what he wanted in a life partner.

For myself, I have found an imaginary one. =) I am not sure if I will be satisfied but I am for now because I can live on my own. Not even thinking of torturing a cat because of my loneliness. If the cat could be my servant in doing housework, I would be glad to have one. For now, a maid for my happiness is not needed. HAHA.

Oh, that guy still owe money!

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