finally be in love

Someone I dated once asked me the perennial question.”jaz,where do you see yourself going with regards to us?”being the eloquent jerk that I was,I said,”married to you with two kids,happily.”I think that answer just blew the whole lid of surprise for that poor girl,because obviously things did not fall through as I would have expected.the twisted truth is,I should have answered the contrarion answer,”I don’t know.perhaps,still dating.living our lives happily as two successful individuals,still dating though.why should soulmates settle for something as marriage?”then,I think my chances would have risen higher like the stock indexes.women,as highlighted,are queer creatures.as a man,i now realise that,when I have an air of unexpectancy and irregularity,it will just short circuit the brain wiring of a woman.the woman’s instincts need to have that primal exercise.the example above showed that by being predictable in my answers,I had just eliminated my chances.because at the back of her mind,she would have sized me up and decided if I was just giving an answer,or deciding on an answer.if I had given the second alternative as a response,I’m sure things would still be okie between us.hehe.i saw a book at borders the other day entitled,”why men marry bitches.”I should write a compelling take on “why women settle for jerks.”

A close female friend noted a word of caution about some entries of mine which she felt was just perhaps a biased take on how women chose their partners.she mentioned that perhaps there are those out there who dream of their dream man,and would have successfully gotten him.i gently reminded my friend that yes,such things do happen and I shall not deny that.i’ve always maintained that my take is always on the generalisation of the issue.my point of contention is always on the issue at hands,not an individual’s experience of any sort.it was a funny conversation because my friend probably felt that i was specifically highlighting her and her failing quests of finding the right one.i did tell her that I am an advocate of that law of attraction.you write down specifically what kinda person you want in details,chances are,by some divine intervention,you will get that kinda partner.but it is an exception in most cases.i always tell this particular friend of mine,about the law of attraction,being mentioned in the Quran.in a form of dua,that is.ask and you shall receive.my only opinion is on the matter of whether you qualify to ask.”dear God,I want such and such qualities and traits in a husband/wife…amen.”you do that everyday and still it does not come true.reason?you are not a practicing muslim lah.hehe.go and read the book,”the secret” by ronda bhyrne.laws of attraction works in tandem with immaculate religious connotations.don’t tell me siti nurhaliza wrote in her journal that her dream man was to be a married man with heavy moustache.

Dear diary,

I hope that my dream man is someone who is married with two kids. I hope that when he finds and loves me,he will consider divorcing his wife. I hope he is old enough to be called my uncle..

Love,

Siti.

Just my apologetic take on choosing a partner.my dream wife was always jessica biel,anyway.so it’s understandably fine if some of you were offended by one of my entries.hehe.i would have too.damn you hijazi.are you trying to tell me I can’t have my prince charming?i did not say that.i just said that there are too many princesses hoping for that same kinda prince nowadays.switch the story and kiss a frog that turns into one.it might come true.

I watched the silly series of rara bazaar where they highlight entrepreneurs of our society and give them mindless challenges to test their business acumen.i felt sorry for the contestants.i do not know if they learned anything out of that experience,cause as a viewer,I certainly did not.it was funny calling a guest judge to impart knowledge and judge the contestants on the area of advertising through commercials,when in actuality,this bloke has never even advertised his own franchising business.so come on,spare the idiosyncrasies and madness,and add credibility and substance.dont invite for the sake of inviting.my mum was cuter when she nonchalantly remarked,”why is that guy a guest judge.he did not even pay his workers properly.just ask your auntie.”hehe.i take no responsibility for that comment,but I found it hilarious.

“there’s just too much that time cannot erase…”-my immortal

sometimes,it feels a bit hypocritical to offer the word of suggestion to friends who needed a listening ear,with the remarks,”relax.you’ll get over it.”the truth is,at times,moving on is a crawling struggle.sometimes I’m asked,”can I move on?am I moving on?should I move on?”to the inexplicable,”I cannot move on.”my personal belief,that in such instances,whether one realises it or not,we are moving on.the rate and pace differs with everyone.it depends on the intensity of the relationship.like wounds,it will naturally heal.it’s just how long it’ll take to heal,depending on the severity and depth of the cut.that’s why I always say,”you’ll get over it.”it’s insensitive I know,but the practical truth is that.nature cannot allow stagnant entity.survival mechanism sets in even if one chooses to not move on.in self development,you know that people advocate the power of choice.it’s true that the coignitive choices you make can help the moving and healing process become faster.conscious choices are like applying alcohol on the wounds and dressing it.the key to self healing is natural progression added with conscious everyday decision making.i know it sound funny,but waking up in the morning and deciding to be happy will go a long way.i always made it known crudely to my sad friends who were caught up in the self pity of sadness and remorse.”why think about him/her at this moment.for all you know he/she might be making love with another.”it’s exaggerated and rude,but,for the benefit of my lovely friends I just had to be drastic in my response and give a differing perspective.if you were in IMH,they’ll probably jab you with a dose of morphine.it’s the same diagnosis.hehe.i learned this lesson the hard way.your thoughts are with him/her…he/she is basking in the glory of another’s company.silly fool.that’s why my adage in life is always,be happy first,then make people happy.love yourself first,then love people.for every 10 people you meet,8 are probably useless as purposes.the remaining 2 are worth cherishing.you encounter one of the 8,you move on quickly.it’s a numbers game.there are billions of combination.as hijazi would have said,”why cry over one cheating/idiotic/shameless/maniacal/unworthy malay girl/guy,when I’ve not even known the beautiful and sexy brazilian giselle bundchen lookalike over at rio de janeiro at the other side of the world?or the degree educated lebanese in the bath kinda girl?or the bespectacled consulting executive working in the city districts of new york?”you get my drift.rather than dream about that dream partner,go and source it out.make it an interesting journey of discovery.why content yourself with the

honest

kind

trusting

charming

fun loving

zealous

homely

love kids

caring

respectful

and other wanted traits in a SINGAPOREAN MALAY?

Go out there in the world my friends. Those out there are humans too. Chances are they are exactly like you. Only speaking a different culture. Haha. And when you do get the One,tell and share the story of glory. Then that’s a life. Worthy of blogging materials to last in your sixties,retirement and beyond. It’s just an idea anyway. Hehe.

the slow and frustrated…

Obviously,my take this time around is on the contrast of “the fast and the furious”.have you ever noticed how there are some within your social circle whose purpose in life is just to perhaps whine,bitch or just plain walk around with a capital agony written on their foreheads.the ones I literally call,emotional bloodsuckers.they will ask you,”how’s your day?”,and then knowing that you will then ask back in kind,they will just wait with bated anticipation,cause when you do ask,they will immediately pour onto you a year’s amount of problems.lucky for me,I have managed to put a stake through the hearts of those I have encountered.nowadays these people are much more subdued. I had an interesting evening.visited my old institute of technical education,Dover.reason?i had an invitation as an evaluator by ITE’s toastmaster.such a lovely thing to be walking through the hallowed walkway.a flush of bittersweet memories just came rushing out.ITE was a defining institute of education.i am morally inclined to say that I owe much of my learning curves from that stint of two years.the thing that I finally realized now is that I am not an idiot.i mean,intellectually.back then the stigma was just too much.internal resentment.my bro was in poly getting his diploma.my departed girlfriend was in jc,and so were scores of acquaintances and loved ones.why the hell was I sent to the pits of hell,I thought.but upon retrospection,I am who I am now,because of what I went through.transformation of beliefs.the recent blog entry by my bro,highlighted a poignant fact about circumstances.the thing is shit happens.parents die,people go bankrupt,businesses go bust and other doomsday events.but that’s the thing.it’s just meant to be that way.you play the cards that you are dealt with,cause most of the times,you don’t get lucky.so yes,I am with the self development and constant improvement.the thing about me is that,I get tired of sorry people feeling sorry for themselves.it just cannot be like that anymore.the social dynamics will strangle people who are still fiddling with their sorry nooses.just a small example,I went to visit a client at his primary school just recently at noon.school was almost over while some of the kids were awaiting for their supplementary classes.here’s my observation.perhaps biased,but it’s your own opinion to gather.two distinct groups.one was,just sitting with their books on the tables.another,as busy chasing cats.guess,which group were made up of our people?hehe.culture?upbringing?education?or just genetic defects?i don’t know and I don’t think thinking about it will change anything significantly.it’s just my deduction from my observation.

Recent developments have made me just been tuned more acutely.i am a paranoid optimist.things like the IDR development in johor excites me.IR development worries me.state of living amazes me.i do not really understand sometimes why our Berita Harian can be so thin on news sometimes.you put it on the table,it’ll fly away.that’s how flimsy and thin it can be at times.just a question.is there no worthy news and insights worth covering.yet,you put scores of adverts,opinions from industry watchers,entertainment news of kissing artistes,two day old news and a whole page dedicated for kids doodles on certain days.mindless?perhaps.what’s the gist?who’s the community movers and shakers?interestingly,one “hot” issue or topic can just make headlines for days.i’m not a journalist,but as the receiving end party,I’m just trying to gain a semblance of insight on what we are shaping out as a community?

Somehow,the thought just occurred to me that down the road,I’d really love to be a private practicing psychiatrist.it’s a dream career.financially,as a private practitioner,it’s more lucrative.i’ll charge by the hour.it’s industry norm overseas anyway.have a sigmund freud kinda set room.dull and boring with a sigmund freudian looking couch,atypical of those found in movies.i’m betting my last dollar that psychology is gonna be big.when I initially took my course in psychological and counselling studies,my relatives went aghast and exclaimed…”you will just turn out to be a psycho…”well,now,I’m just awaiting for their dollars and ‘cents’ of mind to come crawling later in my office in the near future.when they go…

Deranged: Dr Jaz…my husband had not been coming home for the past one week.

Me: Are you worried?

Deranged: A bit. He has never done such things. Do you think he is cheating on me? Me: Perhaps.

Deranged: How do you know? Me: Have you looked at yourself in the mirror recently? Deranged: No. But what has that got to do with it.

Me: Well,my honest opinion on this matter is that,my observation indicates that your breasts are sagging,your legs are hairy,your nostril hairs are not trimmed and you have bad breath.

Deranged: You F**King Son of a B****H!

Me: I know.Anyway,while you are on your way out,just tell my receptionist that the charges for this conversation is $150. We’ll have it deducted from your credit. Hope it was insightful.

Next…!!! I would really love to have a hot and suicidal lady as a client.

H&S Lady: Life has no meaning for me anymore.

Me: You mean,there was meaning before this?

H&S Lady: Yes,Doc.Now,I just don’t care.This life is worthless.

Me:Hmmm,maybe you’ve got a point there. But I cannot say the same for that body of yours. It must be worth something. Say,why not I waive the fee of this conversation,we’ll have dinner or something like that,and we can just see what happens next,after which,perhaps you can continue with what you were planning intially…deal? I’m a practical man.

Talking about practicality,has anyone seen Britney Spears? I pity her man. It’s bad enough being flabby,one has to wear a two piece for the performance. Makes me wonder if the shaving of her head and neither region had finally gotten to her. Listening to class 95 truly calms me. There is something about old love songs that just strikes an innate chord within. Hearbreaks,loss,cheatings,hope,making love,kisses,hugs,till eternity and so many other keywords that makes Google go mad. It can only happen in love songs. Some of my friend used to relate to me just how some love songs kinda resonates with their stories. It was interesting cause somehow,a song can tell you roughly the state or circumstance of the relationship. Anyway,here is the list of my top 20 love songs for all sorta relationships…

1. words by boyzone 2. on bended knees by boyz2men 3. I’ll make love to you by boyz2men 4. water runs dry by boyz2men 5. shape of my heart by backstreet boys 6. I’ll never break your heart by backstreet boys 7. forever love by gary barlow 8. this I promise you by nsync 9. gone by nsync 10. no one else comes close by nu flavour 11. stay the same by joey mcintyre 12. unbelivable by craid david 13. fixing a broken heart by wet wet we with hari hamada 14. foolish games by jewel 15. one sweet day by mariah carey an boyz2men 16. thank god I found you by mariah carey,98 degrees and joe 17. obsession by frankie j 18. back for good by take that 19. one last by jazfik batisah 20. my personal favourite…no woman no cry by bob marley.hehe.

if I could write songs,words I’ll probably include in the lyrics… 1. he’s a jerk,he’s ain’t worth the perk 2. ditch the bitch and hitch me 3. let our hearts intertwined,and our wealth in kind 4. it’s always been you,after her 5. don’t give up,try harder 6. please marry me,please commit to me 7. you are just nobody to me 8. stop.it ain’t working. 9. I can’t feel you honey. 10. you cheat,I cheat. We’re even now. 11. my guy earns dough.you make dough. 12. it’s only the two of us…plus a few others 13. please don’t leave me…for that son of a bitch 14. I thought you love me but you proved me wrong. 15. size never mattered till now 16. you’ll never see the mat in me 17. I will never leave you,unless someone better comes along 18. you make me the happiest man by leaving me 19. never say never ever 20. we were meant to be together not in this lifetime

hahaha…I’ll be a great song writer. A hybrid of jazi ajmain and jazfik batisah. Eeeeeuuuurgh. I would rather be originally Jazi David.(Craig David)Heh.

The secret…

Earlier today I caught the movie “invasion” starring the ever delicious nicole kidman as its main cast. I caught it alone in the afternoon. Kinda bored. Heh. There was an old auntie and a Chinese couple accompanying me. The one thing that got me enthralled was the promise of zombie like creatures filling up the screen time. Those of you who knows me intimately know that it is my childhood fantasy to slaughter zombies. Something about mindless,slumbering humans just appeals to me. Anyway,I got a treat. Visual treat that is. I caught nicole kidman looking bedazzling as a single mother who wakes up wearing a white tight t shirt,without the bras on. Hehe. It was a pleasant afternoon treat,considering I was fasting. I swear I caught it accidentally. Oooh…perky,perky.

Anyway,the movie kinda confirmed my suspicions about a global conspirancy. The movie highlighted a viral kinda infection that affected people’s neuro system,that’s brain,for the uninitiated. With all the chemically manufactured food being dished out to us,who knows just what kinda organisms lay ticking within our bodies. People are perhaps dying a slow painless death. How did the viral infection spread themselves? By vomit being spewed onto chocolate mocha. I’m not kidding. It was sick. The moral of the story…from my perspective? If you cannot beat them,join them.

Talking of which,I also had a wonderful session of arcade race car driving. What is a 27 year old dude doing in the arcade playing cars? Well,I’m a poor Malay chap you see. I cannot afford a $88,600 Mazda RX8,so I reprieve my fantasy on the tracks of

Japan

,drifting and beating the gear and tail lights of unknown rivals. The adrenalin rush came from the fact that I spent $10 each time,cursing my rivals,traveling at 300km/h and not getting stopped by nonsensical traffic lights for every 70 metres of upward gear shifts. The thing about cars as noted in today’s Berita Harian is that,people can afford them. Just look at the report. Business was overwhelming. More than 4 cars are sold per week at of all places,heartland Ramadan bazaars. So retail car shoppers now buy their cars just by their homes. Wow! You pay say $1,and you’ll drive away with a minimum $30++k car loan for the next 10 years. The other day I heard a conspired,tiresome middle aged lady exclaiming how her future son in law is driving them around. Such a lucky lady. I love the word “future”. It gives you that sense of hopeful goodness,don’t you think? “Ooooh,my daughter is so lucky. Snagging a bloke who drives. He’ll be able to drive me to the market,wedding invitations…blah,blah.” Heheh. I love the uncensored optimism. Imagine the drive towards an old folks home. Must be scenic. Is Jazi bitching about Malays and their cars? Of course not. I’ll get a car of my own insya Allah. It is a convenient piece of transportation. Maybe I’ll get a $16,800 Cherry QQ for starters. Hehe. As my bro mentioned,it’s the functionality. Then when I feel like showing off in my thirties,I’ll get my Mazda. Haha. I’m just tweaked with the passe and obnoxious state of status symbolisation. What’s the fuss my dear comrades/parents in laws to be/disillusioned folks/short sighted individuals? Cars are not a symbol status. It does not even reflect adequately your financial stability. It serves its functional purpose,yes.My manager,a Malay 50+ chap,pays $3k a month in cash to finance a $1.2 million mortgage for his house. He takes taxi. Damn. My district manager,spends $10k++ monthly,on property investments. And we,are exclaiming a $600/monthly instalments on a depreciating liability,as a status symbol? Oh please.

It is hard to disseminate such selfless thoughts to the masses. I mean who will wanna listen to a crapping 26 year old who is still struggling with the conventionality of life. The only thing I have going for me is my unwavering self belief that somehow,it will turn out right for me. I understand how things work. I see the biggest picture then I’ll dissect it slowly like a surgeon on his first day at work. People ask me what my interests are and I tell them,psychology and finances. Why? Because I foresee that in times to come,these two areas will be issues the community will be grappling with. Our community in particular. No offence man,but I feel that we ought to look at things from the bigger sense. Just the other day,whilst awaiting my turn for the ordering of my clothes,I overheard a conversation of pricing negotiations. For a Hari Raya combo clothes,these families are splashing almost $1k above. Amazing but true. Let’s not even get into wedding expenses. The price of a wedding nowadays can bring my mother to perform her umrah twice.”Never mind lah. Wedding comes along once in your life. You should celebrate.” Says the wedding planner and unassuming parents. Come take my money,they call out. It’s okay if I do not get to see the Kaabah now. Later my children will send me to

Mecca

when I’m old. Or perhaps I will go when I get my CPF money. *sigh* What CPF money,pakcik makcik oi…? We need an Anthony Robbins or Adam Khoo of the Malay community to rev up the ridiculous old age mentality of some folks. I mean,progressively,we Malay parents are savvy enough to equip our kids with computer knowledge,handphone and more tuition,and not forgetting that odd once a week religious studies. We need a progressive revolution of minds. The minority in our society are flourishing but will they step forward to lend a progressive hand? Perhaps. But they too are aware that their contributions are limited. Just the other day,almost a whole week was dedicated by the Berita Harian,by reporters and commentators,on the issues of ‘cashbacks’ on CPF investments. Oh how the poor Malays ranted and lamented about how they were cheated and so forth. My bloody take is…there will be no supply if there was no demand. Why the outcry like some whining folks? Get educated. Get information. Be informed. That’s the way to prevent such affairs. You know how to order the “Sensasi” channel on SCV,and yet you cannot read the fineprints or documentations of regulations. Ignorance has its price. Do not be so unassuming and cry foul when things go wrong for you. Be accountable. You get cheated because you are gullible. Period.

At the end of the day,we need to take a hard look at ourselves. The man in the mirror is almost always right. The parallel universe is not some ideal or idea. It is real. As newton’s law of motion states,for every action,there is an equal or greater reaction. Like me,if you have complaints about finances or life…roll up your bloody sleeves and work on it. Not sulk like some pouting bitch. It does not help.

Singapore

is a growing metropolitan. One either shapes up,or one ships out. There is no social security welfare scheme to carry you off from the streets into the havens of death awaiting. You are just a name on a birth and death certificate to the masses and registrar. You wanna whine and make a radical impact,have a big mindset. That’s the only way. As I’ve always highlighted,you are either a digit in the statistics number…or you are the benchmark. You decide.

So,if one is contented with the $2k a month home kinda thingy,good for you. You are probably driving a car,have an engagement,planning to get married in max 2 years,planning to get a degree or higher education,planning to purchase a flat in 3 years time,planning to go on that yearly holiday trips with your loved ones,year end bonus permitting,have some insurance and investment policies lying around,and just looking forward to your off days so that you can have time with families,making sure bills are paid on time and awaiting someone above you to die in his sleep so that you can be promoted…you are indeed living the life. I mean,that sure beats the life of say someone like Martin Luther King,Mother Theresa,Henry Ford,Mahatma Gandhi…or just perhaps someone like Terry Fox or William Lim. I mean,that’s how life is supposed to be lived right? Predictably. The prospect of living to an ideal or purpose is scary. What will my parents say? What will my comparing aunts and uncles say? What will my comparing cousins say? What will my partners think? I should just be an everyone or someone to all. I should never be myself.

You are just a digit,if you are not the benchmark.

Last Thursday shenanigans…

I found it amusingly cute earlier in the evening to have encountered a reflective moment. I attended my monthly chapter meeting and a fellow member,Adriana’s sons were there as usual. The thing that made it so amusing was the fact that they were swarming all over me asking if I was presenting a speech. I felt sorry that my “fans” were gonna be disappointed as I was not presenting one anyway. I am beginning to feel increasingly embarrased with the small fact that people keep coming up to me and saying hi and saying how they liked me,admired me and adored me whilst I was clueless about their identity. It is becoming increasingly bad that I have to introduce myself by such lines,

Me:Hi.I’m Jaz.

Fans:Yes,I know you. I know both you and your best friend. Both of you are AIA Changi’s stars. I love to hear your speeches. I’ve seen you many times and have heard so many things about you….

Me:Sorry you are..

A middle aged man came up to me earlier and said that he wanted the honour of shaking my hands. He said he feels priviliged to see me in person. Can you imagine that? I feel like a cult leader. I offered to exchange cards,and he asked for both my Toastmasters and proffesional card. When I asked him what he was working as,he introduced himself as a District Manager. Funny,but I felt small. I should be the priviliged bloke. Anyway as mentioned, Adriana’s eldest son came up to me and said this,

Child: Hijazi,can you help me with something?

Me: With what?

Child: I know that you are an expert with women. Can you tell me what to do. A girl that I liked in class gave me a call,but hang up. She then texted me,asking if I knew who she was. Obviously I do. What should I say?

Me: Tell her,she is the girl in your dreams.

He duly mesaged. Then came an immediate reply.

Me: What did she reply?

Child: She replied,”You are pathetic.”

Me: What the f**k!Gimme the handphone.

I texted the following reply.”I’m sorry. I left the word “bad” before the word  dreams just now. It should have read,you are the girl in my bad dreams. I know,it’s pathetic!”

Guess what? By the time I was making my way home an hour after that,the girl has yet to reply to the message. Yups,I am an expert.I’m sure that the guy’s chances of ending up with girl had literally gone up in smoke. Haha. Women! Give them credit,they ridicule us! Might as well dish out the jerk in us guys.

I cannot take it lah. I think I will have to start conducting my workshop on understanding women. Hot tips on how to cope with women.

People tell me,”Jaz,I can never understand women.” So? They are not meant to be understood anyway. That’s why they are interesting creatures. The exact reason why people never bother to truly understand the Theory of Relativity by Einstein. All you need to know is that it is a profound idea. That’s all. Then you show off by saying that you know the theory. No need to understand.

Over the course of years, I’ve met interesting women. Women who generally made life colorful. I had a female pal. A presumed soulmate. The interesting part,on reflection now,is how women behave. I accidentally stumbled in her life,in a moment when she was having reservations about her engagement and relationship with a possesive partner. By the fluke of circumstances,that relationship ended,though I’m sure I played no part,I got caught in my own whirlwind of supposed emotions and tried to win her heart. Now at that very instant,her persona changed from someone who depended on me for emotional support,to someone who literally held me by the strands of my emotions. My question now upon reflection is,did she changed? My answer and deduction now,is no!You see, I realised that somehow,in her mode of despair and sadness,all she needed was an escape clause. An exit window for emotional reprieve. You know,the usual things. I listened,she wailed. The process is such that over time,her strengths are literally anchored or drawn from mine. The more I appreciated her presence,from my emotional blind spot,the more she felt validated. Thus over time,I lost grip on the whole outlook of where the dynamics were going. That explains why,earlier in the friendship,I was a confident and brash man that she admired,to a sorry and hoping guy,that she thoroughly detested. Still remembered what she mentioned,that in me I was too soft for her. It got so bad that, a colleague was just sneaky enough to make his entry into her life. Woman 1 Hijazi 0. But I learned an expensive lesson that I will never forget. Emotionally strong women,are perhaps the most brittle. I just have to know where to knock,which I know now. Interestingly,we have lost contact. 3 years of non contact. 1 year of close knowledge and a wrong tactical move,blew it off. I knew I should have stayed the jerk I was. She told me she liked that part of me. Heh the dark side.

The part about getting married nowadays has mellowed me down.Where there were times when I was perhaps looking forward to having more female friends,I am now more contented to just be by myself. The knowledge about settling down is not lost on me. Contrary to what some may think,I don’t believe in that small fact that a man has to throw away all his friends when he is about to get married. It is hard for me to apply that in my life. Every now and then,I will get a flashback of what an individual from a past relationship used to tell me,”Jaz,if you can do it,(cheat and lie),I also want to try it,to see how it feels like and to make you feel the way I feel.” Needless to say,the relationship literally ended in my mind when I caught her cheating. You see,as guilty as charged,I am,I feel more devastated to acknowledge that perhaps somehow,my actions had spawned an idiotic maniac,who blamed me as her choice of actions. Its interesting because,if that woman were to have slept with a guy,based on the assumption that I would have done so,is a sad,sad fact. I do not know how to explain it exactly,but sometimes,such things eat me inside. Knowing that I am not the catalyst,but am made to feel like one,just to satisfy the sadistic nature of selfishness of another. Healthy social dynamics are best derived from the context of a good woman staying good. In an effort to stay global,I don’t believe in the adage that what a man can do,a woman ought to do. You never associate dignity with men.

Another issue with delusional aspects of blind sided women are their constant rants for the prince charmings of the society to come down from the saddles of white horses and carry them in their arms into the sunsets of happiness. Most of the time,such idealistic notion sees them ending up with an ogre of a shrek. You see,the problem is,you expect the galaxy,but you cannot appreciate the planets. A  good guy comes along,and you play hard to get because the little mean inner voice says,you deserve better. Hah. Laws of Attraction says that,to receive,you ought to give first. If a woman is selfish enough to  not work on the issues of appreciating good guy friends,praise the skies above, when you say loudly,”Where have all the great guys gone?” They fail to polish the raw coal infront of them,because they are absorbed with finding the elusive diamond. One exact reason why divorces are on the rise. Hard to get women should just learn judo or something. They do not need men to protect them. No real men go for the poodles.

Gosh. I miss Aryani.It’s a resort anyway. Not a woman.

I feel bitchy. Must be the vibes.

just random thoughts…

Finding the right one…

You know sometimes,it’s just hard to fathom the inner workings of that mechanism called,the heart. It fails to detect and filter any signs of realism on the feasibility of a relationship or potential of a relationship. The first beating indicates that yes,there is every bit of a chance that the girl or boy,we set our hearts on,is the one or can be the one. The second beating normally breathes in that air of optimism within, that despite flaws and weaknesses,acceptance is a prerequisite of sustainability. We tell ouselves,yes we can make it work. The third beating brings us to ground zero,when the normality of life creeps in and replaces spontaneity with every tinge of predictability. Suddenly,a movie outing becomes a passionless moment of popcorns and drinks,rather than the fleeting touches of hands. The fourth beating and doubt brings about a bit of restlessness. Episodes of mistrust and misjugements becomes a typical harbinger. We tell ourselves we are right. The situation is always wrong. The fifth beat rings the death knell. Surpressed by lack of freedom,we choke on the fabrics of memories and we seek reprieve in the arms and shoulders of vulturic friends or souls. The sixth beating and our foot is on the lookout for the exit door,awaiting the opportunistic moment to make a quick departure. Why stick around when you cannot stay,we tell ourselves. The last beat,and we smile in unison with the cyclic nature of life. We say,what begins must end. What started had to stop. We look forward,trying so hard to shout to the world that,”Yes,I did it. I ditched the bitch. I dumped the jerk. Let’s celebrate life. My life.”

Then…the mechanism starts its engine again. The heart has to work. It has to. Because that is its nature,and we begin with the first beat. Beat one. Beat two. Beat three. Beat Four. Beat five. Beat Six. Final beat. Symphony of the heart we say.

I’m so sick of love songs,I tell myself.

Does the symphony work that way?

That the bitch plasters herself all over the domains of the cyberworld,making a statement of happiness and joy in the arms and groins of men. The jerk muscles his way on the sanctuaries of privacies proclaiming newfound popularity in the hugs and kisses of women who sees the less in men. Rejoice! Being fake is an art. Donning the armour of superficial life is as crude as the art of applying eyeliner to the lashes of a social whore out one the first day of experience.

just some updates…

I learned a fair bit about myself the other day. When I try too hard, I tend to stumble and fall. When I have no realistic expectation, or just feeling swelling confidence about myself, I tend to achieve my usual dose of achievements. The Area Humorous Speech Contest held on Saturday illustrated clearly the visible evident of why trying too hard and trying very hard is almost too close a call in the framework of success. Anyway, heartiest of congatulations to Hijazi for having won the best Area S7 Evaluation Contest and coming in 2^nd Runner’s Up for the Humorous Segment. I am not taking part in next year’s session. I am contented for now with the 9 trophies I’ve got at home over the one year of involvement in the Toastmasters Arena.

It is not wrong to note that I’ve been feeling a bit over positive and zealous towards my approach the past two weeks. I attribute it to the excellent seminars I’ve been attending which were incidentally free of charge.

My first wonderful seminar was “How to be a People Magnet” by Christian Chua. He’s a printer maverick who apparently made it big. He proclaims himself as

Singapore

’s People Magnet. Such ingenuity. Why didn’t I think of that tagline? That short workshop was an eye opener. The simplicity of it all was on the basis of likability. In order to be interesting,be interested. About not having preassumptions of people and a lot of other Magnetips. The gist of the workshop was so simple that I aplied its principles almost immediately after that. As I recounted to my bro, I’ve given out more namecards over the past two weeks than I did on the whole of last year. In fact, I’ve chatted up al the taxi drivers I’ve been in touch with and gave a short financial advice to a few blokes,namecards included. I’ve broken ice in elevators. The wonders of seeing things in a new light. A breakthrough.

The ensuing Monday had me attend my company’s training session over two days. The first day was excellent with a half day seminar by Jill Lowe. A lady who had done 25 years of image consulting. What I learned was priceless. Between what you love to wear, and what someone sees,is what we call a window of opportunity. You get your image wrong,you’ll probably lose the opportunity along the way. Excellent stuff. Hairstyles was such a highlighted subject. I know that with the right budget,I’ll sure look into having my image revamped big time. To be a success,dress he part. How apt.

Second day of the training was inspirational. Dr William, a paraplegic,qualified neurosurgeon, world record holder was there to give his take on how to lead a purposeful life. One cant help but say the following…”If that disabled guy has so many abilities that brings him semblances of success and happiness,what about me?” I felt that way. He has a book written to his name.Damn.

On Thursday, I attended a short seminar on sales. Blair Singer,the Rich Dad Poor Dad advisor and author of Sales Dog,was introducing a new business scheme that allows people the opportunity to be a sales trainer. Damn.I did not have $30K to blow on that damn franchise. But I will one day. I love his take on business and success. YOU HAVE GOT TO SELL!!! Selling apparently is the only job that allows you to be a multi millionaire. But it’s true apparently. Think about it.