details in the fabric

Today, I was given the choice - to bask in the bliss of ignorance, or to simply face the truth. I embraced the latter. The truth, as always, is not pretty. But I put all my faith in the words of the wise - I believe that one day the truth shall set me free.

And speaking of, Jason Mraz & James Morisson - Details in the Fabric. Brilliant lyrics. Too many interpretations of what it means, but it still doesn't deny the fact that they're simply brilliant lyrics.

deeper than conversations

For so long, you and I have raved about good conversations and the importance of having good conversations. Good conversations are what hold friendships together, marriages together, workmates outside of workplace together – in the absence of which, more often than not, friends fall out, marriages fail and workmates stick to being ‘work’ mates. Or so I've heard.

I have good conversations almost every day. All intriguing, all intellectually-stimulating, all deep and heavy. My friends are all great conversationalists - they are a bunch of smart and inquisitive people, always questioning everything - from the weather to the very meaning of being.

But perhaps it is true what they say, that too much of a good thing may just be a bad thing.

Good conversations used to give me that flutter in the heart, especially with strapping gentlemen with immense knowledge of anything - from music to sports science or Russian history. And with those who love a good debate, like on Marvel vs. DC or Snickers vs. Mars or Windows vs. Mac (pfft Mac obviously!)

But, I dunno. Somehow I feel that good conversations have become, a burden. The pressure of having to say something intelligent, or to have an opinion or to keep the ball rolling is too much. I don't like it. Sometimes, I much prefer the peace and quiet.

People say marry a person who you can have good conversations with. Fair enough. But on that basis alone, put me at the altar with any Tom, Dick and Harry (and possibly Jane), because with some good toasted roti kaya and cuppas, you and I can talk all day and night. Sure - the ability to have good convos can be a good measure of compatibility, or chemistry or all that shiz between two people. But I also think that there is so much left to be heard when two people stop talking. Some say it best when they say nothing at all.

Could two people feel the need to sustain a good conversation only to mask the unbearable silence that could possibly arise when they have run out of things to talk about?

Yes, good conversations about your favourite colour or about outer-space or your hopes and fears and everything that you believe in (Yuna fanatics, please don't hate) are nice and lovely. But I want something else too. I want something possibly deeper than a deep conversation.

On the way home tonight, we were quiet. Not many words exchanged, except for a few laughs when the DJ was saying something about Perez and Paris in a catfight, but you just had to be there. The car was filled with silence mostly. And oddly enough, that was one of the best conversations I've had in awhile.

elm st.
Wow, what an awfully long weekend. My praises go to You, Allah S.W.T for giving me the strength to go through what felt like a bad nightmare. Only that it wasn't - I pinched myself several times and...ouch! I have always thought that one good thing about being in the pits is that, things can only go uphill from here. Though I could be wrong. I could be in for a much bigger surprise.

obama-rama
Barack definitely brought sexy back in his book, Dreams from my Father. He is living proof that "brains" is two-thirds of what makes sexy. I don't know about you but I find anything that is intellectually-stimulating, sexy. Ok I should probably stop saying sexy and give an actual review of the book. But you can read them here, or better yet pick up a copy and be blown away!

Sepi, not so sappy

This movie, Sepi, left me with goosebumps and reaching for the tissue box by the end credits. Not too sappy, except perhaps for you ice kings and ice queens. A movie so wonderfully-written, that it makes me defy what I used to believe in. So love is made for everyone, only that it doesn't always come in the form that you would like it to, and at the time that you would like it to. Because if love is what we're after, then us beggars can't be choosers.

Love is not always a game of two. Three is a crowd, yes, but playing it alone may just be worse. Because loneliness, as we know can be painful - like that special burn you feel when the sun sets and that deafening silence you hear at night.

And losing love, is part and parcel to this all. It only makes the finding it all over again, the bigger adventure. Here's to seeing things through a glass half full.

p/s: Oh, apparently, when your right eye twitches, it means you're about to cry a bucket-load. The twitching ended today.

stop it!

Forex losses and Obama-rama aside, my right eye has been twitching for the past week. Myth has it that something is about to happen to me - good or bad is highly debatable. At this point, I just wish that whatever it is that is about to happen would just drop like a ton of bricks, because the anticipation is driving me crazy that I find myself triple-checking the lock on my doors, tip-toeing around the house, jumping every time the phone rings, filtering speech, withholding opinions and even squeezing my bf's hand so hard everytime he picks up speed when driving as if holding for dear life! Clearly - not a fan of positivity.

My boxes from the UK arrived today. I got really excited when unpacking them somehow - like a little kid unwrapping Christmas gifts. It is pretty weird considering I packed these boxes myself and I saw them last no more than 2 months ago, which eliminates or minimises any element of surprise that could possibly arise. So anyway the excitement was mounting when I reached the 4th box and I knew I had to pipe it down a notch when I screamed, "Oooh! Cordless phone!"

There's a subliminal statement to the paragraph above, if you get my drift. But I refuse to put it out there because what fun would that be?

I've started my driving lessons. So far so good. But if there's anything that is distracting my focus on the road it is the story-telling of the instructor's life story. Apparently his two sisters share a husband and his niece is dating a girl.

My eyelid just twitched again. It's got to stop. I wonder if people notice when it twitches. Because I actually have an interview tomorrow and I don't want the panel to think that I'm winking at them to score.