August 29, 2011
Today marks the 7th week of my mother’s passing. It is a very significant day in Buddhism for the departed. That is why we congregated at my mother’s niche for rites and prayers.
All these while, I never felt that my mother had gone. I guess I was still reeling in from the shock, and I didn’t shed a single tear. It felt as if, mom was just away for a really long vacation, as she sometimes did. But when I was kneeling down today in front of her memorial tablet, when I was listening to the chants of the Buddhist nun, it suddenly came crashing down on me that my mother was gone. A pang of extreme sadness washed over me, and I started to recall the happier times we had with each other. I managed to wipe my tears away before anyone could see.
I hope my mom would find peace in this, and I have a lot of moving on to do.
August 14, 2011
I fucking hate cars with ‘bumper stickers’. I’m not sure if the term is even technically correct… because they’re not really on bumpers, but on the rear windscreen. Seems like a fad these days – unfolded collars, fake tans, douchebaggery, bumper fucking stickers. Most of them are with inane quotes that no one gives a shit like ‘princess on board’, ‘you’ll never walk alone’ or some religious chants. It’s like they can’t wait to tell the whole world that they suck or something.
Just the other day, there was this car which swept into my lane in high speed without an indicator, nearly hitting mine. It was a Malay chick with a psychological stench of a stray female dog with festering cunt. When her fucked up piece of a junk finally got to the front of mine, I then saw it – the bright yellow ‘bumper sticker’ that stood out like a sore thumb on the top left of her rear windscreen – ‘PREGNANT LADY DRIVER’ – with a graphic that showed a woman in an awkward pose like she was having a lobotomy at the wrong end. So what was the sticker all about? Like I wasn’t suppose to feel pissed because she’s pregnant? That it is excusable for pregnant people to weave all over the road like a fucking lunatic? What if I’m a motorcyclist who got run over by that bitch? Would it matter if she’s knocked up? Fucking cheebye.
Here, I manage to snap a photo of her ‘sticker’, excuse the blurriness – for I took the photo with a raging hand:
August 7, 2011
I went into a meeting the other day with this guy customer… he’s a weirdo. Here’s what he did in a formal meeting:
– chant someone’s name like 2 dozen times just so that his brain could register it into his limited memory.
– skip repeatedly in a frigid pose when cogitating a simple question
– winked at a fellow male colleague (thank god not me) for no reason
– called me Michelle.
– held and stared at an inanimate object (calculator) while muttering something incomprehensible.
What a loco. I was so goddamn freaked out in that meeting. But then, it was still less than the feeling of absolute disappointment because I wanted his job so badly. I mean, at least I know I’m normal when compared to this crazy turd here and I’m light years ahead of what he could do on steroids.
The world is so fucking unfair.