things you may not want to know but I'm telling you anyway

Has the value gone up or down, lately?

via Daily Prompt: Value

When I was younger, I prayed that I would never grow up. I don’t care for what adult life has to offer. I still do, though. But, grew up I did. How do you stop yourself from growing up, anyway? I have yet to figure out how to stop growing old up. Continue reading “Has the value gone up or down, lately?”

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things you may not want to know but I'm telling you anyway

Dear Comrade Elvis.

Dear Comrade Elvis. As I am writing this letter to you, the rain is falling. I thought to myself, what a good ambience to sleep tonight. As I thought about it, I thought about you. I’m wondering is it raining where you are right now. If it does, is it raining hard? If it is raining hard, are you feeling cold because of it? I hope your thick fur will keep you warm. The more I thought about you, the more my mind went back to last week.

Did you remember the trip we took last week? As I am struggling with the traffic and how not to crash the gigantic car, and then I heard your voice. You were bored, I presume. As another red light popped up, I look to my left and I saw you staring back at me. I can’t remember when was the last time you had properly looked at me. I knew you liked my Brother more than me, but more than anything, I wish you wouldn’t hate me for the vet visits that I’ve been taking you to since last month.

Oh dear, the rain here is getting harder. I hope it’s not raining where you are. Anyway, back to last week. I remember my heart felt like someone had taken hold of it and crushed it when I saw your pleading eyes. I don’t know what it meant. It could mean that you’re bored and you want me to set you free from your carrier so you can roam around freely in the car, or it could mean that you don’t want another vet visit. Was it the latter, Elvis? Because if it is, I don’t know if I can give you that.

You’re older now. You are much more fragile than years before. Anything could set you off and cause you sickness. I can’t risk that. I need to make sure that you are always on your prime condition; even if it means you hating me for the vet visit.

Did you remember what I asked you that day? What I had told you? The one thing I have not yet tell to any living soul (until today, if there is someone reading this post)? I told you that I am not afraid of death. Death is nothing but the end of a journey. That being said, I am a tad bit afraid of the process of dying. But, death itself does not scares me. Everyone dies and not everyone lives, that’s what people said, right? I guess the thing that scares me about death is if happened to someone else, to someone I care for deeply. And maybe, just maybe, the thing that scares people about death is if it happens to someone else.

You’re my best friend, Elvis. I don’t do much about our relationship, but I care for you deeply. And if ever death comes between us, I will be torn apart and it would take years to piece me back together, because my best friend/my companion/my comrade/my most trusted fellow which is you is something that can’t be replaced easily. You and the rest of my cats are my best comrades, the best I ever had. And that concludes this letter. This should have been posted last night, but there was a power outage last night, so, yeah.

I’ll see you next week, Evis.

A super late letter to Elvis in response to The Daily Post writing prompt, Companion.

things you may not want to know but I'm telling you anyway

chill, it’s just a phase.

Happy birthday, little brother!

Crazy! You’re 25 years old. I wonder what I was up to at 25. I think I was pretty much too preoccupied by getting into my angsty phase 2.0. I was busy hating on life and crying out why my life is such a failure. To my defence, that could be pretty much my quarter life crisis (let’s just say so, shall we?). And, maybe, that’s what you’re going through right now. I don’t know if quarter life crisis is a thing, but if old dude can get away with mid life crisis, surely we could get away with that.

I don’t know if birthday is your thing, but I want you to know that birthday or no birthday, I will always be by your side. I may not around much, but know that you can count on me when you it need to be. I know my birthday wishes were lame this morning, but that’s because I know you don’t need birthday wishes. You just want to be left alone and so I will let you be.

I can’t promise you that life is going to be better, or if things are going to be worth it in the future, because it all depends on how you live and view your life. All I can say is, don’t give up, yet. I don’t know until when one can keep on fighting the currents, but never retract from hands that offer you help.

If ever you asked my opinion about life after 25, all I can say is the majority of time, things are just going to get even more complicated. You’ll be spending your days cursing the choices you made when you’re younger. You’ll be drowning in adult’s responsibilities, of which you’ve never asked for. You’ll be so tired everyday that you felt like you’re a decade older than your actual age. And trust me, even as I am typing this, I can assure you maybe none of those things are worth it. Maybe none of the things in life had any worth anyway.

But I want you to know, remember and think deeply anytime you feel like life became too hard to handle, that you’ll always have your two lame sisters around. We’ve been together all our life, maybe not all the time, but we’ve gone through a lot of things together. I hope that we can keep going through things together. I want that.

Little brother, even though you are 25 now, and you’ll only going to get older from now on, you’ll always be my baby bro. I’ll always fight for you, whether you asked for it or not. My loyalty is with you. You should know that much. But life can be complicated sometimes, and maybe you can’t see my loyalty clearly, but it has always been you and me, brother. Ever since I realised that I have a baby brother, I knew I would want to only protect you.

Maybe all of the things I’ve said are just mumbo jumbo to you (and to some extent, it maybe is), but I meant everything I’ve said typed. If life at 25 is hard for you, know that it’s only going to get harder next year and the year after that and so on. But those things are just phases that we all go through. At some point, it’ll stop getting harder, and you’ll see some change in it, and just for a moment you’ll enjoy it. I don’t know how much you can actually enjoy the small changes, but that’ll be your mark that there’s a new phase brewing, waiting for you.

So, remember, it’s just a phase. It’s not like there’s a monster under your bed.

And so, I conclude my sloppy letter to you by once again congratulating you to the quarter life crisis. What could get any better than this?

Cheers, little brother!

Personal rant in response to The Daily Post writing prompt, Phase.

#FictionFriday

and I see you.

I went to sleep last night on a full tummy. I had a great dinner with a great companion. We had a wonderful conversation. Life seems to be going to the right direction, for now. What could go wrong? Not one person, less of all me, could have answered that question.

I thought it was going to be a dreamless night, as usual. But, there was a light at the end of my dark dreamless night. There were screams and tugging, followed by immense pain; if there is such thing as a dream that can cause you physical pain. I was tug left and right. I can’t seem to understand what the screams were about. It seems like it was a language I’ve never heard before. But, the faces, oh I so know those faces. The faces, or the former faces, of my parents.

I’ve heard the stories so many times before that it didn’t sound like a proper event anymore. The story goes that my parents had a fight on my first birthday. Being not much older than 28, the anger got the best of them. The candle on my cake had not yet been blown, and they already fought about who should have the custody of me. But as the night unfurls, and so the argument fades away. For years to come, there would not be anymore talks about divorce and who should have me on the weekends and the whatnots; there were no more talks about being a family too.

I woke up in sweat. I don’t believe in dreams being a premonition or anything, but there has to be a reason as to why I dreamed about an event that has long gone and that it only became a relic and might as well be a figment of my imagination. I thought of calling Mama, but I thought better not to. The last time we talked, we weren’t on the same page about my decision to divorce my then husband. It was not a bad and horrible one, it was more like a mutual understanding to part ways; much like a business partner coming into decision that their business was no longer beneficial for both parties.

Maybe I should call Papa? But we haven’t talked in so many moons, at least properly talking like a decent human beings rather than just a cordial hello and goodbye. I could at least try Papa, besides we haven’t even been in any arguments in years, surely I would have a decent conversation with him rather than with Mama.

“Papa?”

“Page? Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, sure. Just thought to give you a call. Couldn’t sleep. Can’t call Mama, she’s asleep at this hour.”

“How’s your Mama?”

“She’s alright. She’s still not happy about me getting a divorce. It’s not even an ugly divorce, and she went ballistic when I told her about it. What’s up with that?”

“It’s not about whether it’s an ugly divorce or not, Page. You know that. It’s about the divorce that she doesn’t agree with.”

“But I can’t be with Daniel anymore. We want two different things now. Had I keep our marriage going, it’s just going to go downhill. Daniel and I would have been in horrible places. This is ideal. We don’t have to hate each other.”

“Marriage is not something you toss out when you think it’s not to your liking anymore, or when it’s not what you thought it would be like. Marriage is something you fix when it’s broken, it’s something you fought for, not something you let go when things got too hard.”

“Did you ever think like that when you decided to cheat on Mama with her own friend? Or when you left the house only to come and see us every other week you’re free? Or maybe when you thought we don’t exist anymore when you decides to permanently live with Jenna? Speaking of which, how’s her and her daughter? What’s her name? Tess, was it? Did Tess knew that she had a half sister? She should have known by now, right? Is she in university now? Should I come and see her sometime? Take her to lunch or something?”

“Page, stop this! What are you talking about?”

“Wait! Are you serious? You’re giving me this speech about marriage. Have you forgotten where were you these past few years? Were you a husband to Mama? Were you a father to me? Were you even there when Mama had her mastectomy?”

“You knew I was always your Mama’s husband. I have always been a father to you. I have never, not even once, missed your big day! I was always on all of your big games, your graduation, hell I was there with you on your wedding day.”

“Please tell me that what you’ve just said is as ridiculous as it was to me! You’re only a husband to Mama on paper. You’re a father to me only on my big days where everyone can see that you’re present in my life. But, let’s be honest, which daughter that you drive to school? Which daughter that you’ve waited for hours when she came a tad bit late on prom night? Which one, Papa? Was it me or Tess?”

“You don’t understand what I had to go through, so don’t talk to me like that.”

“You bet I don’t understand. How could I? You left your wife to be with some other woman. You left your daughter for another daughter. How do you expect me to understand that?”

“You think I don’t want to leave your Mama properly? To give her the closure she so desperately need but she won’t admit it? You think I’m the one who doesn’t want a divorce? Your Mama’s the one who wants to keep the marriage going. The only reason I could never marry Jenna is because your Mama is so damn selfish.”

“You lay off of my Mama! For years I resented her for what she did to our family. But I was wrong. It was you who had ruined our family, Papa. Mama gave me one heck of a dysfunctional family where I only have a father when he has to show up in public. I hated her for that. But, let’s be honest, had she filed for a divorce, would I have seen you at all? Would you have showed up in any of my special days? Be honest, Papa. All you ever want was Jenna and Tess. Mama and I would have been obliterated to nothingness had Mama filed for a divorce.”

“So? What? You’re on her side now?”

“I’m glad Mama still has the last laugh, even after all these years. You’re really selfish, you know that? You think I was on her side? I was never on anyone’s side but my own. But, thanks to this conversation, I can now proudly said that I am on Mama’s side. That I will stand by her and fought with her the next time you showed up at her front step begging for a divorce. I will be there with her as she told you to leave her house and ripped the divorce papers to shreds. And I will smile with her, and I will hold her hand, and I will understand all her fights when you walked out of our door the week after my first birthday.”

Okay, maybe calling Papa was not my best decision in years. He hung up. And who could blame him? But who could blame me, either?

“Page, honey? Is everything alright? Are you in pain? Page?”

“Mama.”

“Page, honey. Are you crying? Did something happened? Do you need me to come over? Let me get a taxi, first, okay? Don’t hang up.”

“Mama, it’s alright. I just want to say I’m sorry. And I miss you so much. I’ll come over for lunch soon.”

“Are you sure, honey? I’m sure I heard you cry. You know that you don’t have to hide anything from me.”

“Mama, I see you. I see the real you. I’ve seen a glimpse of how the world works through your eyes. And although I still don’t agree with how we see things about marriage, but I see you, Mama. I see how you see things and I understand you.”

“Oh, honey. Page, darling, it doesn’t matter. I’m just so selfish. I just couldn’t leave your Papa. I just want him for myself. I didn’t think how hard it must have been for you.”

“Mama, it was hard and it was strange. But it would have been harder had Papa never showed up at all. But I don’t need him anymore. I don’t need anymore of his pretend. I have you, Mama. So, the next time he shows up, you can let him go. But if you think he deserves another round of begging, let him beg, Mama. I want to be around when that happens.”

“Oh sweetheart, don’t call me this late just to make me laugh. I’ll make sure I’ll call you when he comes the next time.”

“Mama, I see you. I’m sorry I didn’t see you soon enough.”

“Well, why don’t I come over there so you can see me soon?”

“Nah, I’ll come over to you. Make sure you have my choco ready when I’m there.”

“You know I would. I’ll see you soon, Page.”

“See you soon, Mama.”

A work of fiction in response to The Daily Post writing prompt, Vision.

things you may not want to know but I'm telling you anyway

Take a walk in the park.

Take a walk. Take a stroll. Go for a jog. Just go. Don’t you just wished that there have been more parks? You know, just to sit around the benches with a good book and music? Or a walk in the park when your head is full with too many worldly business? Or am I holding too much on the perfect romantic ideas of parks, like the one I see in movies? Maybe parks are not that magical. Maybe it’s only magical because I have not seen that many parks before. Or maybe, I just like to have things to blame if I’m feeling tired with life and get all cranky. Who am I kidding? I’d rather be a sea cucumber than actually go out and sit on a bench in a park and went home all sweaty.

But, maybe my outlook will change had I been given enough parks to explore the possibility that I would enjoy a stroll in a park. I used to hate going out of the house alone. Not for fear of being abducted (although that could be a contributing factor as to why I oppose of going out alone), but for fear of looking weird. I also don’t eat out alone. And although I consider sitting in a coffee shop with a good book as somewhat of a romantic thing, I would never have done anything like that.

Lo and behold, I did all of those things, and it’s not as bad as I would have thought. Sure, it felt awkward the first few steps of going out alone. But the freedom it entails, the feeling of being anonymous, the lightness of your footsteps as your iPod chose the perfect soundtrack for your big day out on your own; that beats the fear of going out alone in the first place. Eating out alone is not all bad anyway; I get to enjoy my food better, for I don’t have to be distracted by the commotion and the conversation and the need to be included in all topics amongst friends. Here I save the best for last, reading a good book on your own in a coffee shop. I had spent a good deal of my last remaining days in Seoul by frequenting a local coffee shop close to the campus’ library. Nothing special there, I don’t even their coffee. But I would go there anyway, armed myself with a good book, a nice noise reduction headphone, a laptop occasionally, and just spent the whole day on the nook of the coffee shop with my book and my music.

Okay, where am I going with this? Oh, well it all started with me hoping to have more parks so I can spend more time outdoor as oppose to being at home most of the time. And it turned out to sound a lot like I was complaining and reminiscing about life in Seoul. Although it did took me by surprise that I kind of miss Seoul, at least I’m not writing about my sad and boring work life; so that’s an improvement, right? Let’s just say it is.

A personal rant in response to The Daily Post writing prompt, Stroll.

things you may not want to know but I'm telling you anyway

I’m living on borrowed time.

“An uncertain and usually uncontrolled postponement of something inevitable.”

“you mean ‘our life’? it basically that, isn’t it?”

“Kind of. What’s certain about life, anyway? And it’s not like the majority of things are controllable.”

“would that made death as the inevitable, then?”

“I definitely see it that way.”

“do you find it troublesome that we’re talking about death while we just turned 28 a couple of days ago?”

“Nope, death has been a topic that we both enjoyed talking about, right? The mystery of it all.”

“i’m living on borrowed time. yeah, i think that will be my answer if and when people asked me about my plan for the future.”

“That surely kicks those nosey people right on their guts, don’t you think?”

“it’s not like i want them to be asking about my plan anyway.”

“On hindsight, I should have just said that when people were questioning me about when am I going to get married, or how is it at 28 I don’t have a kid of my own or why I seem to not be perturbed by the lack of an offspring in tow. What’s a girl gotta do when she’s living on borrowed time?”

“i like this saying. borrowed time. we all are living on borrowed time.”

A conversation with oneself in response to The Daily Post writing prompt, Borrowed.

things you may not want to know but I'm telling you anyway

Don’t let the bed bugs bite.

A personal rant in response to The Daily Post writing prompt, Bedtime.

I had one of the best sleep just last night. The thought of not having to go to work the next day was just so beautiful it end my day on a high note. The idea that today was going to be no responsibility kind of day just made the sleep so much better. After all, sleep has been one of the very few things I enjoyed in life.

When I was younger, sleep scares me; it still is sometime, especially when my anxiety come knocking on my door. But, sleep has always been my favourite past time. I used to imagine so many scenarios to help me sleep. While some people might be counting sheep to help them went off to sleep, I chose to have my own make believe scenarios. I used to imagine how my life would turned out had I’d been much more smart in chemistry class. This was my constant make believe scenario throughout my first and second year of high school. I was such a dumb-dumb in chemistry class, that my chemistry teacher would sometime be the fruit of my nightmare.

These days, I just wondered how my life would turned out in five or ten years from now. I don’t really know what it would be like; life is just incredibly unpredictable these days that I don’t have the means nor the will to imagine what it would be like even a week from now. Work has been somewhat incredibly demanding the past few months that all I can think about before bedtime was a hope that work would just slow down a bit.

That aside, I think I’m going to have a great bedtime tonight. Today was such an amazing day. Woke up late, had a chocolate cake for breakfast, went to go and got a massage, had an incredible Udon, and watch Master of None on Netflix (not to mention that I also had a nice quick chat with Sam from Netflix when my show ain’t playing on my five years old Mac. Thanks so much, Sam from Netflix!).


 

P.S, today is my birthday! I’m 28 now. Crazy! Who would have thought I’d be walking on this earth for 28 years (and more, probably)? Yay, me!

P.P.S, have a great bedtime, y’all! Don’t let the bed bugs bite! Also, I might be out of town again this weekend. Ugh! You really can’t have everything, can you?