Mood: Irritable & Psychotic

I always appreciated individuality. Nothing turns me on more than a person who can stand her/his ground when the rest of the world is busy trying to "adapt" (heh) to their surroundings or conform to the unwarranted demands of society ... BUT you know what's completely revolting? You know what gives me a lurching feeling at the pit of my tumtum?

People who try so effing hard to be different they lose sight of who they really are and what they really want. Individuality is only a virtue if it's real ... if you have strength of character to back it up. If you don't, then you're nothing but a pathetic excuse for a homo (sapien, of course). It's really not "individuality" if its catalyst is other people, dodo-brain.

If you read this and think to yourself, "OMFG that's me," kindly kill yourselves and rid our world of your bullshit cus really it's full of much too much dung as it is. If you need help, give me a buzz.

Both types, tyvm.

The following post is FULL of political incorrectness and crazy generalizations. It doesn't apply to everyone (probably not even that many anyones), but it applies where I am and it sums up quite a bit of what's been on my mind for a while. If you're not a sexist, treat your women nice, and have never resorted to such disgusting acts as visiting your local floozie, then please don't read any further. Unless you're really just in the mood to hear the haranguing of just another frustrated girl in a world of false porcelain beauty (which I'm really not "just"). :-D

No matter how much we've all evolved into a much more liberal bunch, the moral standards that both the Asian as well as the western society's set for men and women differ greatly in reference to the appropriate manner of how members of each gender behaves in relationships. You've heard the age-old cliches that only evinces the extreme inequity between the moral laws of righteousness for men, who's only more and more of a stud as the number of partners increase, and women, who'd be considered a total slut in the same situation. Then there's that common saying that's really turned into a much more common joke now (proving my next point) that goes something like ... "Did you know that {this part changes} did a survey that proved that if a random stranger of the opposite sex would approach a man who was currently involved in a serious relationship for a quick round* in the bathroom, 99% of men would say yes while 99% of women would say "NO!"?" Regardless of who, where, when and IF anyone's actually conducted that little survey, I wouldn't be survived if the results really differed that greatly between the two genders.

I'm sure you've heard it all a million times before and have come to accept it as the zany new-millenia-invoked rantings of your common lipstick feminist** or womens rights activist, but it's a certain ethical variancy that creates such a huge advantage for the other team that I've even seen men claim it as though it were a little (maybe not so little) trophy that declared the level of their machoness. The fact that these alpha males are so proud of these stupid displays of insolent chauvinista that they feel the need to embrace it with such warmth and good humor even with their female partners present, making jokes about it - it's sad, really. More funny than sad. Maybe that's why I laugh along. Or maybe I laugh because I can see the obvious satire of it all. When will people realize much too late that the joke's on them (sadly at our expense).

I'm not saying it should be okay for women to behave promiscuously. I'm just saying it should be considered equally immoral for both parties. I guess we just expect women to be a lot more noetic and just.. I guess the term I'm looking for is ultimately better considering we're a little more evolved/stable/complete/equipped mentally, emotionally, and physically. As "emotional" and "erratic" as the myth states women to be, fact is women have more self control. And the fact that we're more compassionate doesn't make us weak. The higher emotional IQ makes us superior, in fact. I'm not trying to start a full fledged men vs. women battle. That's just old. I'm just saying. Men need to learn to keep their hormones in check and their tools secure in their little toolboxes or whatever they're fancily called. If need be, design special locks for them that has a password that can only ever be known by their current partner to ensure monogamy in every relationship, be it dating or marriage. WOW. I've really strayed far this time.

Totally irrelevant but it kinda reminds me of something I heard a guy say about call girls. As most of you have known and probably come to accept (NOT!) Jakarta's streets are paved with trannies, whores, and various other forms of vermin. And though you'd think that that sort of thing was reserved for the desperate classless bunch, it seems most of the boys out here no longer see visiting them as something so wrong. "Why, it's only normal" or "All men do it" seems to be the nauseating argument I'm hearing most often. A good friend of mine (who seems like your ordinary Sindhi Surinder [though it might've very well been some other Agus, Billy, or Antonio - makes no difference really], the wealthy respectable religious sort - who really did have my respect until only recently) says to me that Jakarta's abundance of prostitutes is really something that wives and girlfriends should be grateful for. He says, without prostitutes, boyfriends and husbands would be having full blown affairs or start rounding up mistresses, who require much more time, work, and commitment. Plus, there's no risk of emotional attachment. Oh and best of all, lack of solid evidence. He says, "All men will eventually look for it with another woman. No man can eat the same meal three times a day every single day for the rest of his life." I don't talk to him anymore.

Brings on another thought. Isn't the reason why practically all prostitutes are female (I've never seen or heard of a single gigolo down here - thank goodness) because when it comes down to the gender-based war, men are more a slave to their dangerous desires than women? (Why dangerous, you say? Think about crimes of passion. Murders that take place in a state of jealous rage, or rape? You don't hear about too many women being the perpetrators in such situations, no?) I'm not saying all women are uptight about intimacy. We all know that's not true. I'm just sayng that even though a lot of women usually are the opposite of uptight and could even be equally if not more enthusiastic than their male spouses, most women automatically value the concept of monogamy and respect the idea of faithfulness and loyalty much more. Of course, it wouldn't be fair to say all especially since in our very own little community there are quite a few infamous beauties who have proven that particular theory very wrong indeed.

How scary it is that our society and most of the worlds nations are controlled by men, the rasher less rational and as proven self-control-lacking gender. A gender that's been known to have one aim and one aim alone - to be an alpha in every way and to place greatest emphasis on the less reliable highly erratic ego and pride and all the things that are a part of it. Men who compete for validation of a bigger sense of machismo therefore proving that they're equipped with a much bigger manhood (again this is where I fail to understsand the rationale behidn it all) in every field, as with the erection of taller buildings than the competition, bigger armies, bigger guns, bigger assets and bigger diamonds on their wives and girlfriends.

Oh com'n. Gimme a break, it's 5:42 AM out here and I'm trying to form as consistent a thought pattern as possible. Failing miserably once more. Let me go back to the single thought that led to the trail of mad crazy thoughts..

This was meant to be about whether or not it's considered wrong to feel flattered when someone you doubt you'll never be interested in goes on the chase. I'm not saying you give them false hope or tell them "it might work". You've told them it won't ever happen, but still feel good when they try to compliment you or sweet talk you (okay fine I don't ALWAYS find it disgusting like I tell you and everyone else I do) or show how much they care by listening or showing you they adore you. Is it considered immorally sleazy or promiscuous of a woman to enjoy talking to men they know they'll never be interested in simply because the ego boost of having someone praise you continously and tell you you're wanted and needed and loved feels good? I always used to think so. I'm not sure if it's growing up that's caused me to consider rethinking things and maybe even changing my mind altogether, or the mad crazy ticking of my biological clock caused by rapidly increasing age (YEAH, RIGHT!).

I know there's a moral code somewhere that says every woman must completely STOP talking to any guy that they know might be interested in them if they know it won't work to not risk giving any sort of false hope or coming off as a tease, but you know what. We're no Stepford wives. We all hve the right to do what we wish, and some men, no matter how much you push them away just keep on coming back stronger. That's not our fault, is it? The flowers, the compliments, the pleading, the compassion, the lending an ear an arm and even a leg when need be...it's all so...meltingafying at the right moment. And who knows it might even end up convincing someone in the end. (Or not) Some of my friends and I've been most appalled by someone in the beginning but end up falling for them simply because they've proven to be such big teddy bears and such heroic sewethearts.

Okay, enough. I'm sleepy. - END -

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*a quick round: in this case - just once, no commitments (duh), just pure carnal pleasure for a moment with someone they'd probably never see again

**lipstick feminist: aka stiletto feminist. A woman who believes that gender equality is achievable even if women are feminine. Or those who believe that they no longer have to deal with sexism as the battle was already dealt with and won by the feminists of the 60s and 70s.

... I'll add a few more definitions I googled up just for fun.

lipstick lesbian: A feminine woman who is attracted to other feminine women.

femme: A feminine woman who is attracted to masculine women, or "butches".

high femme: A femme who dresses very femininely: high heels, makeup, skirts, etc.

My mood swings are so erratic I never know how I'm going to feel when I wake up at any given day. Sometimes I wake up feeling so good about myself, so motivated and so uplifted that nothing can bring me down. And sometimes, like today.. I feel utterly blah. Sticky, clammy, and awkwardly out of place like peanut butter sandwiches without the chunks or the jelly.

Sitting here in my messy office surrounded with growing piles of papers on my desk, old cans of Sprite and two day old boxes of Teh Kotak.. a whole row of condiments next to my bookshelf.. my milieu (?) is a perfect example of how my life is right now. Cayman Islands is playing in the background.. Lyrics not too appropriate but the melody sets the ambiance just right.

Maybe (LOL) I have a problem.. maybe I just don't ask for help enough. Maybe it's just that I've tried too hard to push the people who could help out of my life, or at least limit their knowledge of the areas of my life in which they can offer help. I've always felt like I was better off on my own. I think most people like to maintain a certain amount of inhibition or at least a false sense of aloof-ness in the areas that they were really sensitive about. After all we're all on our own in the long run, aren't we? Not a good idea to get too attached to anyone anymore.

Last night I went for dinner to Kinara with my maasis and then to Little Baghdad with my baby brother.. a night of revelations in the strangest way. I won't go into any details right now, maybe someday when everything falls into place. Heh. A pretty unsure maybe that one is.

There are some people that you love just so much that you honestly think your chest might explode with feeling. You just wanna hug 'em and love 'em and tell them that everything's gonna be okay. You just wanna protect 'em forever if you could. Baby them and cuddle 'em and feed them with your bare hands and beat up anyone that makes 'em sad (even though it's often yourself). To me, there are two people who make me feel like that all the time. Both of them have a tendency of acting tougher than other people, acting a little distant and often sarcastic. Sometimes even mean. But God do I love 'em. And I mean LOVE 'em.

This love is one of the only things that's giving me strength now. Knowing that they've got so much more on their plate and more than ever need someone to at least watch over them even though they probably won't ever really let you in their lives let alone their hearts.. Well. All of it.. can make miracles happen. I guess there is some truth to the fact that sometimes your attachment with humanity is the only thing that can keep you going in life.

Lately I've taken numerous journeys into what may very well be the darkest recesses of the human psyche. Or at least just mine. Sadly I've never studied dream interpretation (and frankly think most who claim to excel in the field are so full of it you can almost see stuff pouring out their ears and nostrils even when their mouths are closed) so I have no idea what most of it means. All I know is that they scare the bejeepers outta me and they're usually repetitive if not only in theme - involving my being chased through impossible alleyways/hallways/roads and then cornered. The attacker ranges from various critters (vibrating cicaks, imploding rats) to unidentifiable black blobs of doom (and I'm not kidding about the doom part). My mind is starting to resemble the contents of a badly made (as they usually are) B-movie.

We all have had recurring dreams in the past. As a kid, my worst recurring dream used to be of a heart rate monitor that's little green lines jerked up and down so quickly and violently as it beeped loudly and just as rhythmically. It'd keep gaining in tempo until suddenly - a long line that blasted in my ears and never seemed to stop until I woke up. Of course I didn't know what that meant or what it was of until much later. I remember trying to explain to my Mom on some occasions and not having the power to describe so well as a 7 year old nobody ever understood me. Later on I recall asking Mom and Dad if I had ever gone to a hospital or seen the beepy thingie. They both didn't think so, and plus I wasn't born at a hospital so it couldn't have been some uberleet memory of something I'd seen/experienced as a baby, as cool a story that would've been. Probably just something I'd seen on TV and having seen the grim expressions on everyone's faces knew it was something bad even though I didn't understand what it meant at the time.

On most normal days, I dread waking up and therefore end up prolonging my sleep even when I've woken up without the help of an alarm (which usually means my body's had enough, no?). This is when my (as with most people, I'd imagine) dreams are most lucid. I know most living (?) mammals have REM sleep, but in my own experience prolonging sleep or going back to sleep after waking up for more than a few seconds usually is a lot more fun as most of the time you have the ability to manipulate the events within the dream or at least alter the outcome of your dreams in some self-serving way. Often, when I do relinquish control during this period in my sleep (or at least stop trying), I dream of arguments with people (where I end up saying everything I've held back along the years) or highly revealing monologues that last much longer than normal (even for me). They usually make some sense though.

Much unlike my nightmares. The dreadful nightmares that come visit me during the less luculent period of my sleep (usually occuring within the first 3 hours) are the worst, because no matter what I do I can't seem to save myself or influence my dreams as I usually can in the mornings. I can't make magic doors appear out of nowhere, find piles of magic ninja smileys (Copyright © 2005 Dido. All rights reserved. Patent Pending.), or run like the wind. They're not much fun. I'm sure all of you know the feeling. You wake up feeling so freaked out, heart pounding, sweat pouring down your back (that part might have something to do with my faulty air-con). This is when I usually end up having to sneak into someone else's room and fall asleep there. Like last night. *blush* Kinda reminded me of a nearly forgotten time when I could slip into bed with my parents whenever I needed to. Ah well. We all grow up sooner or later - ALL of us with scars, some that many of us learn to love and some we only wish there were Dr. Gohs for.

Most of these scars later remain only as physical indications of a deeper hurt that once befell us, and the stories behind them are craftily and carefully repressed. But every once in a while all that negativity needs to represent itself in one of the few ways we allow our subconscious to: in the form of nightmares.

Is sufferage and altruism the true virtue ... or independent goal-making and ambition?

Why are so many people so proud of their suffering?

As I mentioned a few posts back, to me my blog is my very own trash dump for emotional and mental crap. The best part of having the trash dump online and available for any random directionless hobo to scrounge through is that:

1. one gets to offer masses of deprived people with delicious though un-nutritiously bellyache-inspiring (the kind you get when you laugh so hard - even if it is the mocking or fun-poking kind of laughter) junkfood for the soul, or
   
2. sometimes one really needs for someone to provide insightful analysis to the contents of one's mind whether it's to understand how other people see one/you (err) or to get a kick out of how so way off another person's image of one/you could be, and last but not least
   
3. it may elicit quite a bit of intellectually stimulating debate (which I CRAVE for) from those out there who are just as self-righteous/attention-seeking/awesome/bored (various reasons for why people blog/post comments/get online).

So basically (in the interest of fixing the mess I just made by unraveling a ball of yarn without knowing what I'm going to do with it, or, rather, in the interest of recalling where this was going by summing it all up once more) sometimes it's comfort we seek, sometimes it's the need to see ourselves as others do (even though some of us claim not to care), and sometimes it's just plain argument. Most of the time it's just to have some benefit come out of one's own disturbing neurosis. If it can't do you good, then at least it should do other people good by allowing them to laugh about it.

Anyway I guess my point is, I just love it when people are able to remain as honest and expressive in their own blogs. Of course it's their blogs, therefore it's really up to them how they want to use it. But I guess what I'm trying to say is so many people are so scared of being at all.. different or arousing controversy that the moment anyone states that they may not be 100% supportive of teh bloggers' opinions, they freak out. The internet is a new way for us not to remain as supressed as so many of us are/feel. Think of people who live in countries where by law they're not allowed to voice their opinions or express their feelings about, heck, anything. At least where we are, the only way so many of us are suppressed/oppressed/reppressed is by society/family. We MUST take advantage of our privileges to voice our own opinions otherwise what are we but soulless zombies living lives of no purpose and no definition? At the same time, we must be ready to accept that people otu there are going to have their own opinions and with a blog that has a comment section, the opportunity to post them, too.

Of course, there's nothing worse than people who crave for recognition so much that they embrace controversy and sometimes without having any real opinions try their level best to think of the most awful things to say to the people who'd be offended most simply because.. I don't know. But this is the worst kind of netter. I forget where this was going again. I know I started with loving this beautiful soulful blog which a while back I discovered had been deleted by the blogger because..well I won't go into it. But it did have a lot to do with this amazing girl being afraid of how the community would feel about her having a functioning mind. Okay, enough of this. I actually have quite a bit of work to do this morning so I know if I don't stop here, I'll come back even more lost and confused and end up not posting as usually happens.

P.S. You know how sometimes when you're interrupted over and over and over again it messes up your whole train of thought and you forget what you were gonna say or whatever and then you end up going round and round cus you're all like huh what? Yeah so. That happens a lot, no? I hardly ever make any sense these days. And I write too much stuff that doesn't need to be written. I need to better sort out my thoughts before I write.

The grossest most traumatizing thing happened to me Friday night!

As I was walking into my bedroom after dropping some friends off to their houses, something (?) fell on my head. I can still remember the feeling.. the cold fast movement of something long and slender. Was it a cicak* (which, btw, FREAK ME OUT!)? Was it something else? I remember the tingly sensation down my spine and the sudden chill that spread through my body, causing goosebumps to so quickly erupt along the surface of my crater-like skin. All I knew was how I'd die if whatever it was crawled/fell through my collar so there was really nothing more I could do besides stand as still as possible until the thing, whatever it was, was gone. I called a friend hoping for some assurance and a little moral support (stupid cow didn't pick up the phone) and finally another very good (and might I add reliable) friend managed to feed me with some much needed rational sensibility to snap out of my frenzy.
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* cicak (chee-chuck) = (Indonesian) N. Common House Gecko (See Right.)

There's too much I feel and think that I just don't know where to begin. This is another one of those situations where I'm totally speechless and all I have going through my head is "wow". (It seems to be happening quite frequently.) Looking through the first few quotes off the "Have Your Say" section on the BBC Website I can say quite a few people can better say what I feel/think..

... 30 minutes later

I keep reading about how these people must have been "disillusioned with life"? How "disillusioned" must one be to be able to allow themselves to be influenced to do something stupid enough as to kill not only yourself, but also a bunch of other innocent people who probably had nothign to do with whatever it was that made you so angry in the first place? I mean, I've been feeling pretty fudgamonking lost but so far not wanted to kill anyone besides those that tick me off by having made actual personal attack(s). Yeah, great, leave a great legacy behind. Lol. You're no martyrs. You're pathetic little chickendoodoos that couldn't face the so-called "enemy" head-on with a bit of educated battling. Nowadays the world isn't run by primitive violence, and those of you that still think we live in the Dark Ages need to wake up and smell the flippin' Starbucks. (I'm sure there's one near you if you aren't living in some far recess of the world. If you are, we see the problem.) If you're ready to ruffle some feathers and get your hands dirty, get yourself an education, then go into politics and bring your fight there. You wouldn't believe how much more backbone is required for triumph (heck, forget that - just focus on survival first) there.

I just hope this isn't going to start a chain of misdirected racism or inaccurate profiling. As we can clearly see, there are a whole lot of idiots out there. The lot of you know this isn't time to start getting dumber. If you'd like to up the stakes and start an even bigger "war against terrorism," know that you have me and my stilettos right up there with the next AK47-equipped soldier. I really don't know my guns. But know that thoguh so many of you have been brainwashed by the media into believing that terrorism is a concept that go hand in hand with Islam, that is a very incorrect assumption. ISLAM IS NOT TERRORISM. Anyone that believes otherwise, come pay me a visit so that I may bitch slap some sense into you. Islam means submission to God. "Assalamualaikum Wa Ramhatullahi Wa Barakatuh", which is how most Muslims greet each other, is not a complicated way of saying "What's up?" It means "May the peace, the mercy, and the blessings of God be upon you." Can any religion that preaches peace and submission so much be so evil as to support such atrocities as 9/11 or the London bombing? Oh com'n. Think about it.

Those that commit such acts in the name of ANY peace-and-love-preaching religion are those that were automatically handed the most horrible Destiny (as opposed to Chance) card of all: go directly to hell, do not pass go, do not collect $200. And if you've read any of the Holy Books, hell is no picnic.

Now that I've let enough of the negative emotional stuff (as little a percentage as I was allowed) out of my system, let us all pray together for the victims, their families, and everyone who was affected by this great tragedy. May God give us all strength to come out of this time of trial with the same big hearts and hopefully the ability to see clearly which path would be the clearest, brightest and the bestestest.

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P.S. I guess I did have something to say about it (even though it's total crap).

ficklity (fik-luh-tee) = (Asha-Speak) N. The quality or state of being overly mercurial.

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I can't seem to hold an opinion anymore. I never know what I want or what I really mean until I've gone around twice and again and then once more backwards, then talked about it on the phone for a good few hours with some very patient people. I never know what I'm talking about. I don't even know what I feel. Am I angry, sad, irritated, nervous, happy? Do I feel anything underneath all the layers? Do I have layers? If so, how many and what are they? Do I need them? Does it make us fake to focus more on the peelable layers than the ultimate core? Do I even care? Do I need anything? Do I need to want? Do I want to need? I don't even know how to stick to a topic. What is this? ADD? Confusion? Am I going nuts? What? Huh? Who-whadda-huh-who-balla?