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

1. The Enchanted - Rene Denfield
it's all about the money
Friday. 9.23.22 9:42 am
my anxiety about the inheritance comes back to me again. i really hate it.

it's all about the money.

i overheard my mother's conversation with her lawyer in discussing openly if she could sell the properties which was bought in joint names when my father was still alive. i remember how at the beginning she was such in a reverie of converting every damn asset of the person she hates until she found out her late husband bequeath his properties and his assets to his daughters, only leaving the cash bank to her. and for that, she hated him more.

she hated him for not leaving everything to her.

she hated him for seeing her children getting their share, lesser, than what she got in total out of the will.

i have never seen how a mother could be jealous of her own children's inheritance money. she has more cash than her children. and the properties give her monthly rental that is equivalent to a fresh graduate monthly salary.

and still, she hates him to his core in the ashen bowl. if you hate him so much, why do you yearn for his money like a beggar wanting the moon?

because nobody makes enemy with money.

even i would not give away all my inheritance just to make my mother happy because nothing is enough for her.

i have been informed she is contacting the lawyer who made her will. and i'm curious what she is gonna do next. cross her daughter's names out of the will? and what would you do with all the cash then? bring down to the grave?

i thought the aftermath of anxiety and the battle of will is gone. it's never really evaporated from her mind eh.

i don't like conflict, and that's why i'm having anxiety about this.

it's amazing though to see how she flirts with the lawyers, doctors, and many more with her pitiful story as a victim of the oppressed, suppressed, and bullied.

that's why people say never judge the book by its cover. if you know me well, it's the opposite. otherwise, why do u think i need to see a therapist?

people usually see a therapist because of the people in their environment inflicting their pain onto others. therapists always attend to the victims, not the other way round. because the bullies don't know their actions are called bully.

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the unsaid reflection
Wednesday. 8.10.22 6:11 am
the cruel prince story still reels in my head. thanks to my curiosity last night for stumbling accidentally that there's a story told from the protagonist's identical twin. the synopsis said it's the things she wanted to say to the protagonist but didn't. in other words, it complements the volume 1 on certain scenes unknown to the protagonist.

to be honest, i tossed in my bed a for a few minutes reveling in volume 1 especially book 1.5 entitled the lost sister which is the POV of the twin sister.

so with my curiosity screaming at me for breakfast, i decided to dive into the book. it's just around 30 pages. and i read it gullibly. it was so good. the mystery of certain scenes had been justified, and now the readers are privy to the sister's emotions.

but it had left me deeply reeled in the topic of love.

oh well, i'm not gonna warn spoiler ahead because if u read the synopsis of all the books, u'd know that the theme is love, and finding home in a place where u r not welcome. and ... i went screaming silently on my bed for knowing the synopsis for book 2 and 3. what a huge spoiler. and now i want to dive in those books.

but back to the topic...

so after reading the book 1.5, u will know what the sister did was all in the name of love. u can say love is greedy. but i conclude it as love is addiction. when u have tasted how delicious it is, u'd always want it. and also the sister is just using her own way to find her home.

the book somewhat hits me hard. like Glasser said, the founder of reality therapy, that every behaviour is purposeful, that we all behave in a way to achieve something we want. and that's what the sister's actions spoke. it hits me because it made me question my own state.

everyone wants to have a happy ending, you know, including me. are my actions or whatever i'm doing now is making me nearer to my relationship goals? am i really healing myself or just ignoring self-healing?

or is it i'm training myself how to live a life being alone? with no intervention from whatsoever kind of love?

this hits real hard. where is my compassion for myself?

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faerie series
Tuesday. 8.9.22 3:18 pm
wow.

i have read a few of holly black's modern faerie tales before, and i felt they were quite meh. predictable. and meh.

but the first book, the cruel prince, for the folk of air series was so good. i never expected this book can be soo good. i forgot to breathe while reading the climax. i didn't know she could plot this well, and the sentences were so simple to move the story.

well, she must have polished her skills so much since the last time i last read her book.

and now, i'm seething with sadness of my own writing skills. sigh.

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time flies
Tuesday. 8.2.22 4:13 am
wow.

today is the first anniversary of my father's passing. i actually almost forgot until i recalled seeing him in my dream this morning. it looked like we were in a white mall. he and i were walking but on the opposite end... i saw him on my right just walking slowly... and then we ended up in the female toilet. he was the only male in buzzing female loo, and disappeared when my mother and sister came out from the cubicle.

time flies.

and today is just another passing day like yesterday.

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Maybe that idiot is right
Wednesday. 7.27.22 1:47 pm
Maybe that idiot is right... all along that my place in class is to be a little quiet dandy wallflower. to speak aloud among the class favourite is a taboo.

you see, this class favourite offended me in a group chat for just voicing out my displeasure of the university's unprofessionalism of changing assignments at the second week of the start of the semester. if you change, should not the deadline be extended too? i was told by her to shut all these displeasure because it's unholy for the others like her to read, and to even know that it's basic professionalism of the lecturer to read the assignment questions before entering class.

so i shut up in the group chat to bring harmony to the group.

my emotion actually flare up. harmony, my ass, at the expense of myself.

i had the chance to smite this favourite thing in class for her severe judgmental comments on a fellow course mate. to be honest, i did what a lecturer should do. i should be paid for that comment, because it was beneficial for her learning. i deserve that payment.

anyways, back to the foreshadow.

this lecturer also offended me. and tonight offended me again. i was just responding to ur comments, and because u read it late and had a memory that worse than a goldfish (what an insult to a such beautiful edible creature) that u commented 'i don't understand what these comments about'. i was deeply hurt.

i'm not responsible for ur slowness.

and what i hated the most was how u shone when ur fav idiot elaborated on the underlying details not found in my magnifying glass on a case study. when i questioned, u quickly said 'it was just an assumption that she had spoken to this client, and she was reporting.' my ass. if assumption, pls make it clear. u do not add spring onions to garnish the whole dish after being reminded that ass-umption is a no-no in a client interview after i BROUGHT IT UP.

this was the second time you doctored evidence in order to help that idiot. because the first time this happened, it was yours truly executing ur job. u said instead 'u did wonderful' when the client expressed disappointment on the face as twisted as the wrangled clothed in the washing machine. she didn't give oxygen, she robbed it instead.

it was not a catharsis. it killed the hope of a father for his children.

the galaxy is never the limit how many stars can reside, but the number of ur words were enough to suck the brightness of his hopes lie in those stars.

i asked myself again, and again, why i am feeling this yucky feeling over u whenever u were picked to be heard. was i jealous? because i was not picked by the lecturer like how u were picked? because this time i was not the shining star in class? i don't know. i'm still figuring it out, but i'm acknowledging how i'm feeling right now especially seeing u literally ass-uming a case study with great storytelling details! i didn't know u were a creative writer, but sorry babe, i like to get my facts right. our line of work cannot embrace assumptions because they are potential killers.

like the whispers in the wind, i'm always asking myself why i can't just shut up in class. why do i always have to share something when i already know over and over again that i'd not be appreciated? why can't i just do what that idiot tell me to? why can't i be a seed that never grow?

oh well, u can't tell nature to stop growing unless u kill everything living on earth. u can't stop the seeds growing in the ground after a rainfall. u can't stop climate from changing no matter how much u wanna patch things now.

u can't stop energy from moving unless it wants too...

and to be frank, i don't feel like stopping from saying my own opinions.

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nothing in between the air
Thursday. 6.9.22 3:23 pm
this is so crap.

so much of wanting to write stories and now i could not even muster an opening line for any stories. my brain is so not in the mood for cooperating with my fingers.

the more i delay of immortalising the stories, the faster they will reside in someone else's mind. but still i'm so tired of everything and anything that requires me to use my brain to kick start. all i ever wanted is to see the end product without even starting the process.

is it possible for a product to come to live on its own by just me saying the outline bla bla? ya ya, there is no magic that can do that. only hardwork can form that magic that can get things done at a faster rate. making a product is a process, and that magic is a form of trained muscle.

if wanna compare, certainly my brain has no writing muscle. wherever that department in my brain has lazy workers.

ugh... i'm so frustrated. it's not like i'm constipated with stories, it's just i wanna flush them in nice words! and my perfectionism is always questioning my work quality even before i type a word.

gosh. the harsh world of a perfectionist.

screw u lazy bum brain workers!

u didn't spit out any words.. and u wanna find something in between the air u breathe?! u should be rocketed to a nation called imagination!

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