135: let love and live

I can live and let live,
but I can't love those who only love love
but refuse to live and love.


20170529 9.10am



I can live and let live,
but I can't love those who only love love
but not those who want to live and love.

2017-04-26 3.56pm

133: start making bitch happen

here's something not many people realise:
i'm actually a bitch.

a word that someone godblessthem said stands for babe in total control of herself,
a term, according to my ex, to call wives and girlfriends in rap songs,
a man's best friend... that he will try his best to control.

on one hand if i'm fond of you i will slobber all over you and squeeze in for cuddles and pick up things for you likes there's no tomorrow
on the other, i can turn into an overprotective killing machine if you harm those in my care; use
my nails to tear your skin, sink
my fangs and rip out your heart, and then let
my gang round you up and shred you to pieces.

sorry, was that too psycho for you?
psyche, not sorry
because really, i wanted you to know
that no matter how much you think i can be domesticated
when push comes to shove,
i can be wilder than you ever imagined
i can equally love and loathe you to death
and if you want to see what i'm capable of,

i will let you feel my wrath.



2017-04-21 5.46pm

131: nts

in case you forgot,
you are more than blood and bones and tinglings and thoughts.

in case you forgot,
you are a complex being, fragile but loved but tired but brave.

in case you forgot,
you are human.

it's okay to just be.
it's okay to just feel
hell, it's okay to just feel sorry for yourself
sometimes
it's - okay, breathe, breathe, breathe
in
and
out
and in
and out and
internalising toxicity has never done you any good -- no matter how many times you replay all the guilt of the past three decades making you constantly feel like you are
out of time
out of control
out of your mind
but of all the things that you stop yourself from doing out of fear,
please don't stop yourself from living because you're scared of being burnt.
sometimes facing your fires is the only way to let out steam,
so go ahead:
shout at the sea at the top of your lungs at 2 in the morning --
use vibrating showerheads on lazy sunday mornings or lonely weekday nights --
down llaollao generously topped with rainbow sprinkles and crushed graham cookies --
let tears extinguish your flaming eyesmindtongueclenchedfists -- just
let it
all
out
and give yourself
permission
to accept that you may be an organised mess
that you may lose yourself in
but will eventually find your way out at some point.

instead of fixating on the hands of the hours and minutes and seconds tick tick ticking away
as you tick tick untick no tick get ticked off by the things in your neverending checklists
try to accept that you'll only be able to see yourself in retrospect so you can't timetravel back to fix your future but also
try not to worry too much if you can't seem to live in the present the way self-help books keep telling you to.

i know your eyes are covered with layers of open-burn smoke disney-tinted lenses underneath half-eyelids wishing they could remain closed
and it's okay that the only thing you can see most of the time are your hands wiping away frustrations from your eyes, creases from your forehead, and snot from your nostrils
because your sweaty palms and farmer-like digits and unpolished nails
have helped you verbalise what you think and want and need,
have clawed into your aggressor's hands at your most vulnerable,
have cupped water for you to gargle after supermintyhot mouthwash,
have on countless occasions placed antiseptic and plaster on your scraped knees,
have pushed yourself up after kissing the earth from falling down, thanking god, or both,
have touched and tickled and been tingled by those who have returned your love - no matter how brief; despite
having been born or shaped or grown or scarred in ways that are unacceptable in other people's eyes,
they are a part and a reflection of what you are and what you are capable of:
perfectly flawed but able to do and carry and protect and heal
more than you can possibly believe.

so please,
forgive yourself
as much and often as you give excuses for other peole being the way they are
for you not being more
for the times you regress and fall through
for all the opportunities you probably missed because you couldn't get up right away or in time or at all.

because really
it's okay
to not be okay all the time.

2017-04-19 6.26pm

117: cur(se)few

TW

i wouldn't be stupid enough to be out past midnight by myself
-- why ask for trouble?
but when i have to,
every gaze from a passerby
every puff of smoke from somewhere close by
every catcall
every chuckle
every shadow
every footstep
every flickering light
every creaking sound
every freaking thing
is amplified like i'm walking through a dark, icy cave.

the temperature doesn't drop,
but i subconsciously wrap myself
with my arms and with my prayers
as i try to make sure i haven't lost my voice
-- in case i had to scream
and i glance down to see that no shoelace is untied
-- in case i had to run
and with a cellphone in one hand
and whatever i could get in the other,
i pick up pace at every corner
i lock the door as soon as i'm inside,
and with blood raging through my veins in anger
and my heart pounding so hard out of fear
it pains me to realise
why i don't go out past midnight,
and why
for those who don't have a choice but to endure this
every. single. damn. day,
they're told
that they're asking for it.

2017

---


i wouldn't be stupid enough to be out past midnight by myself
-- why ask for trouble?
but when i have to,
every gaze from a passerby
every puff of smoke from somewhere close by
every catcall
every chuckle
every shadow
every footstep
every flickering light
every creaking sound
every freaking thing
is amplified like i'm walking through a dark, icy cave.

the temperature doesn't drop,
but i subconsciously wrap myself
with my arms and with my prayers
as i try to make sure i haven't lost my voice
-- in case i had to scream
and i glance down to see no shoelace is untied
-- in case i had to run
and with a cellphone in one hand
and something lethal in the other,
i pick up pace at every corner
i lock the door as soon as i'm inside,
and with blood raging through my veins out of anger
and my heart pounding so hard out of fear
it pains me to realise
why i don't go out past midnight,
and why
for those who don't have a choice but to endure this
every. single. damn. day,
society tells them
that they're asking for it.

---

- Izzaty | #YesAllWomen | 29/5/2014 | 11.30am

104: of peach tea and ice cream latte

this isn't a poem
this is my train of thoughts
processing.

{{{rewind

my peach tea
your ice cream latte

talking about
spices and herbs in drinks
and how you're keen to experiment
and i couldn't bring myself to.

//and i remember you wanting
tangerine and cardamom tea.
it sounds odd,
but if you made it,
i'm pretty sure
i might try it at least once.//

and then we chatted
and laughed a little too loud
making fun of wwe
singing flight of the conchords
-- your fav is 'you're so beautiful... like a tree'

talking about what our 10 year olds
would think of us if they saw us right now
yours would be somewhat unimpressed
by your hair
(which i find extremely cute);
and he'd ask, whispering, "who's the girl?"

(why are you so cute?!)

i told you i almost ran away when i was 9
and i bundled up my stuff like doraemon did
and you laughed because i brought up doraemon.
i like it when you laugh.
(perhaps a bit too much)

then we went down for you to pray
and i was doodling and forgot to look at the time
and when i saw you standing outside
i couldn't help but smile

(seriously,
why are you so cute?)

we skipped gelato
"or you'll have to hold it for me"
and you asked if i wanted to drive around with you
as if i could say no

in your white mini, beatles in the air
driving around in circles
driving around in silence
driving around with tears rolling down my cheeks
because you wanted me to let it all out

\\you played julia once.
and you said you listened to it repeatedly
after you dropped me off,
it's such a sad song.
(i wish i could ask you
why you listen to such sad songs)\\

you try to understand.
you understand me
despite only knowing me for a week plus.

what's up with you?

we parked and looked over the valleyed city
near the top of the hill.
you relaxed and reclined your seat;
you cracked your bones,
you apologised.
= don't worry about it
bones cracking
= you can do anything you want.
startled, "what?"
= yeah, you can crack your bones, stretch, whatever
"so you're ok with me breaking my spine half?'
= what? NO---fine, you can do anything you want, as long as your don't hurt yourself
= ... or others
"ok then."

and then you asked
"how does this feel?"
= hmm?
"what do you think of this?"
= what do you mean?
"what do you think 'it' means?"
= [us being here?]
[i think he said yes, but his real meaning seemed concealed]
= umm...
i felt like i would burst
i wanted to touch you
i wanted to tell you how much i like you
i wanted to know how you really felt about me
but all i said was
= it's nice
(i can't ruin this moment)
(i can't ruin whatever 'it' was)
(i can't ruin whatever we are)

and you gave me your wooden bracelet
which i'd wanted since the last meeting.

and at night, on the phone, you said:
[thank you for making my december memorable]
just something along those lines
i can never remember if it's too long

but i do remember this:
"you're adorable"
= so are you
"umm. thank you."

i try to understand all this.
it's hard.

where do we go from here?
what do i do?

i'm already missing you so much.

100: breaking news

how do you
brake
the news
to a child
that their only parent
is gone
?
here's one way
:
letting her
estranged villagefolk
who came to take her home
break
the news
at the schoolgate instead
.
because nobody prepared you to face
her
breaking voice
,
her
breaking down
,
as she tries to remain standing
in spite of her wobbly knees
;
as she struggles afloat though
her vision is drowning in tears
;
bothered breathing
,
sobbing and suffocating
;
and you watch
jaw dropped
hands shaking
mind numbed
because nothing prepared you for this
.
holding this
trembling soul
shaken and stirred
by the twists of fate
of having lost
her sole supporter
?
trying to
unbreak
herself
in her state of mind
of worrying about every single thing
of unpredictable uncertainties
---
then you start to realise
that she is no more prepared
than you are
.
nothing
prepared
me
for this
.
how do i
break
the news
to a child
that their only parent
is gone
?

---

written: 13/4/13
last edited: 3/12/13

92: Down With Love?

He said

We live on different planes of reality
I'm kidnapping you
I'm glad you're shorter than me
You might be surprised by how many exes I have
Here's a toy I bought at RantAi
I don't really like taller women
At least I'm not in debt
Have a look at this
I go everywhere for my girlfriends
I want to be like sustainable man
I don't want to worry about getting married
Pretty girls are usually crazy -- it usually takes 2 months for them to show their craziness

And I listen
And I wonder
and I smile
And I frown
And I nod
quietly

And he

Leans in to suggest what to eat
Taps my arm to tell me something
Takes me to artsy places
Introduces me to his friends
Smokes discreetly
Hands me a gift
Buys me dinner
Doesn't ask why I tested whether his toy would sink or float
Walks odd because of his injury
Invites me to experience art with him

And I blush
And I grin
And I laugh
And I think
And I look
away.

But he

Doesn't care about time
Doesn't consider making a family
Doesn't plan for the future
Is haunted by his past
Is relaxed about his present
Can't do long-term
Can't stop smoking
Can't be alone

Said I was pretty

Why do you do this to me?

And I am probably lonely
And I am possibly bored
And I am slightly agitated
And I am definitely tired
of Love

84: tempo rally

This is the Future:

identified by = #

evaluated by = %

penalised by = $

and forced to face

an infinite input of facts and figures 

and insanity in the form of information overload

of truths and half-truths,

of white lies and whole lies,

with processors

swollen by nothing of importance,

with memories

numbed by nothing of relevance.

here are beings

disinterested

for having existed

in a world so filthy and twisted,

and be judged for crimes they had to inherit

and to right wrongs they did not commit --

This is the Future.

getting closer and closer

as loud as ever

but on mute.

This is the Future,

where the silent screams

are nothing

but

deafening.

78: Adieu Kate

kate said:

"at the end of the day,

all teachers look for are mistakes"

i was about to defend my profession

i was about to defend myself
but then i realised
that in our dualistic system of
black or white
loose or tight
wrong or right
we have lost sight

of kids like kate:

in the middle of the line

in the middle of the graph

in the middle of the spectrum
in the middle of everything

and yet nowhere to be found.

we stuff them into boxes

expecting them to still breathe

and then we wonder

why they choke when we ask them to speak;

we make them give answers

based on prepared marking schemes
they can't think too far

-- can't give more than the examiner wanted;

we want them to be unique

yet shut them down when they are

and sweep under the carpet

their blood, sweat and tears like specks of dust

we tell them to listen listen listen

and then we talk talk talk talk talk
because only adults
can have opinions, right?

and then we complain

that kids like kate
become notorious rebels

or passionless zombies.

so when kate finishes school

i wonder if i can honestly say
"adieu, kate!"
as she faces the world beyond the school gate
because she will come to realise
that school didn't really prepare her for all that
but in some ways, it did
just not exactly like

what we had said.

---

kate said

"at the end of the day

all teachers look for

are mistakes"

i was about to defend my profession

i was about to defend myself

and then i realised

that she was not far from right.

because in our dualistic system of

black or white

loose or tight

wrong or right

we have lost sight

of kids like kate,

those who are

in the middle of the line

in the middle of the graph

in the middle of the spectrum

in the middle of everything

and yet nowhere to be found

and

we stuff them into boxes

expecting them to breathe

and then we wonder

why they choke when we ask them to speak;

we force them to answer

based on the scheme

not what they had discovered

-- hey, it's more than what the examiner wanted.

we want them to manage 

by themselves,

so we sweep under the carpet

their blood, sweat and tears like specks of dust

we give them rules to follow

which we ourselves

don't heed or understand

and then say 'tut tut' when they are confused

we tell them to listen listen listen

and then we talk talk talk talk talk

because only adults

can have opinions, right?

and then we complain

that kids like kate

become notorious

or lifeless beings.

so when kate finishes school

i wonder if i can honestly say

"adieu, kate!"

as she faces the world beyond the school gate

because she will come to realise

that school didn't really prepare her for all that

but in some ways, it did

just not exactly like

what we had said.

---

i was once a kate, and i hope i educate.

---

kate said

"at the end of the day

all teachers look for

are mistakes"

i was about to defend my profession

i was about to defend myself

and then i realised

that she was somewhat right.

because in our dualistic system of

black and white

loose or tight

wrong and right

we have lost sight

of kids like kate

they are those

who are somewhere

in the middle of the line

in the middle of the graph

in the middle of the spectrum

in the middle of nowhere

and

we stuff them into boxes

expecting them to breathe

and then we wonder

why they choke when we ask them to speak;

we force them to answer

according to the scheme

not what they had discovered

because it's more than what the examiner wanted.

we want them to manage 

by themselves,

and we sweep their problems 

under the carpet like silly specks useless dust

we give them rules to follow

which we ourselves

don't heed or understand

and then say 'tut tut' when they are confused

we tell them to listen listen listen

and then we talk talk talk talk talk

because only adults

can have opinions, right?

and then we complain

that kids like kate

become notorious

or zombies.

but

when kate finishes school

i wonder if i can honestly say

"adieu, kate!"

as she faces the world beyond the school gate

because she will come to realise

that school didn't really prepare her for all that

but in some ways, it did

just not exactly according to

what we had said.

---

i was once a kate

and i hope i educate.

60: estranger

stranger
th/æ/n fiction,
stranger

th/ɛ/n reality,

stranger(,)
th/æ/(ɛ)/n everything
i thought i knew

(about you) is

fiction-worthy, th/ɛ/n

reality sinks in, th/æ/t

you
are

(/ə/) stranger.

- 8/12/12 2.37pm

stranger
th/æ/n fiction,

stranger
th/æ/n reality,

stranger
th/æ/n everything
i thought
i knew

is the sudden awareness that
you
are
(/ə/) stranger.

- 8/12/12, 2pm

59: run away

i feel bad

not because
i
had

reciprocated

mistreated
laughed

smiled

cried.

i feel bad

because
i

fear
being
dispensable
dismissable
disposable.

i feel bad

because

i
would

rather

disappear

than 

confront.

this is how i preserve myself.
this is how i save my heart.
this is how weak i am.

and this is why

i 

always 

flee.     

44: en garde

right when i thought i
could cruise control, you came in
and caught me offguard


26/10/12 3.04am

27: Unsound (Public Transport People #2)

i can't remember how it started, but

the lady next to me told me that
the lady next to her told her that
she didn't know when to get off.
she was simply told
to get on at kl sentral,
then get off at senawang.

it was her first time on a komuter.

white-haired, deaf, and illiterate,
she only had a bag of clothes
and a torn paper with a scribbled number
without a phone to call it with.

it was her first time on a komuter.

as her petite frame shrinked further into her seat
and her tired, weary eyes repeatedly searched the carriage
perhaps for a familiar face,
perhaps for some kind of miracle,
in the end, the only thing she could do
was wait until she stops at a train station

that she couldn't even read the name of.


last updated: 2016-01-31 7.10pm

---


everytime i think of this old lady, my heart breaks.

---


as i boarded the ktm
the lady next to me told me that
the lady next to her told her that
she wasn't sure where to stop.
she was simply told to
get on at kl sentral, and
get off at senawang,
on a komuter train -- her first time in her life -- without anyone to accompany her.

it seems incomprehensible to me that
she can't hear or say much
(she's quite deaf, you see),
and she can't read much,
(she's quite illiterate, you see),
and she doesn't have a phone
(because let's be realistic here -- it's not like she can hear or talk or read anything on a phone),

and yet here she is,
this teary-eyed white-haired woman in her 70's,
sitting in a moving train she has never been on,
not knowing how to read a route map
(or even how to tell the time),
and frightened and alone and overwhelmed that
she is a deaf and illiterate woman in her 70's
without a definite means to say "I'm here!" to,
and the only thing she could do
was wait for someone to get her when she stops at a station

that she can't even read the name of.

=============

i can't remember how it started, but

the lady next to me told me that
the lady next to her told her that
she wasn't sure where to stop.
she was simply told
(by the son and daughter) to
get on at kl sentral, and
get off at senawang,
on a ktm komuter -- for her first time in her life -- without anyone to accompany her.

it seems incomprehensible to me that
she can't hear or say much
(she's quite deaf, you see),
and she can't read much
(she's quite illiterate, you see),
and she doesn't have a phone
(because COME ON -- it's not like she can hear or talk or read anything on a phone),

and yet here she is,
this teary-eyed white-haired woman in her 70's,
sitting in a moving train she has never been on,
not knowing how to read a route map
(or where 'senawang' even is)
and frightened and alone and overwhelmed because
she is a deaf and illiterate woman in her 70's
who could only wait for someone to get her when she stops at a station

that she can't even read the name of.


8.24pm

---

i can't remember how it started, but

the lady next to me told me that
the lady next to her told her that
she wasn't sure where to stop.
she was simply told
(by her son and daughter) to
get on at kl sentral, and
get off at senawang,
on a ktm komuter -- for the first time in her life -- without anyone to assist her.

it seems incomprehensible to me that
she can't hear or say much
(she's quite deaf, you see),
and she can't read much
(she's quite illiterate, you see),
and she doesn't have a phone
(because LET'S BE REALISTIC -- it's not like she can hear or talk or read anything on a phone),

and yet here she is,
this teary-eyed white-haired woman in her 70's,
sitting in a moving train she has never been on,
without a clue of how to read a route map, and

without any way of saying (to whoever is picking her up) "I'm here!".


sitting next to strangers
who can barely understand her, and
trying to hold back feelings of sadness, fear,
loneliness and how overwhelmed she was
as a deaf and illiterate woman in her 70's
sitting in a moving train with no familiar faces around her
and the only she could do,
was wait for someone to get her when she stops at a train station

that she can't even read the name of.

---


i can't remember how it started, but

the lady next to me told me that
the lady next to her told her that
she wasn't sure where to stop.
she was simply told
(by her son and daughter) to
get on at kl sentral, then
get off at senawang
on a ktm komuter (for the first time in her life -- and without any assistance).

it seems incomprehensible to me that
she can't hear or say much
(she's quite deaf, you see),
and she can't read much
(she's quite illiterate, you see),
and she doesn't have a phone
(because LET'S BE REALISTIC -- it's not like she can hear or talk or read anything on a phone),
and yet here she is, this
white-haired woman in her 70's,
sitting in a vehicle she has never been on,
without a clue of how to read a route map, and
without any way of saying (to whoever was going to pick her up) "I'm here!".

sitting next to those who can
barely understand what she utters,
her watery eyes, reflecting
her fear of uncertainty and abandonment,
look around at the unfamiliar faces
with hope but in vain
because the only thing she could do
was wait for someone to get her when she stops at a train station

that she can't even read the name of.

---

26: Balance (Public Transport People #1)

of all the passengers
on the lrt, he stood out
like a quiet moth
against social butterflies.

wearing
an oversized security guard uniform,
a funny-looking hat,
a slightly faded backpack,
a pair of dusty black loafs and
a sullen expression,

his clumsy hands
held onto the railing as
his frail body
swayed along with the movement of the train.

yet
this dispirited man,
confused or drowning or lost or stuck
in his own world,
still managed to keep his balance
no matter how abruptly the lrt stops.

i wonder what kept him going.

3.08pm

---

i love people-watching, especially on public transports.

22: It's a Girl/Thing

Silly thing,

Girls can't climb trees
or play with ladybugs
or chase chickens
or arm-wrestle!

Girls must cook things
and do house chores
and be pretty
and just listen!

Silly thing.

12.11am

20: Starry-eyed

Just
like stars
revolving around the
sea of galaxies in
the vast universe, we orbit:
at our own pace and space,
with grace and for solace,
determined to not stray;
we accept our
centre of
Gravity

---

Quite breathtaking, seeing this with your own eyes