I was talking with my friend over lunch today and she mentioned about a guy who has been stalking her for the past 4 years. 4 years, my friend, that’s a very long time. I can’t even stalk that hot chick I met at SS for 4 minutes, once she started talking – I lose interest, but hey, that’s another story.
“So how did this guy stalk you?” I asked my friend.
“Oh, he left chocs and notes in my cube, he sent me countless SMS even though I never replied a single one, and he left me messages in my Friendster…”
“Isn’t it glorious – to be admired like that?”
“What glorious? It’s damn creepy…”
“But why you didn’t tell the guy off? Just tell him frankly, I HAVE NO INTEREST IN YOU, PLS LEAVE ME ALONE.”
“I never met him in person and I never replied his messages.”
“You never met him? How could that be possible? I mean, in these 4 years…”
“I’ve seen his pic in Friendster before la, but I never met him in real person. I think I would totally freak out if I do.”
“And he never gave up? Even though you umm...gave him the cold shoulder?”
“I gave him more than that actually…you know there is once he tried to add me as a friend in facebook and I rejected him with a message that goes : I think you got the wrong person. He followed up with a message that went something like this: Don’t you remember me? I am so-and-so and we used to be former colleagues in [censored]. I went bazooka, I mean, of course I know who you are, YOU DWEEB! I just don’t want to be your friend. But instead, I just replied: No. He went nut and sent another message with all capital letters: HOW COULD YOU NOT REMEMBER?!! I THINK ABOUT YOU EVERY NIGHT!!!”
So, my friend - being a civilized lady she is, answered back very curtly: I think you need an anger management class. The stalker wouldn’t give up, he went: I don’t need an anger management class. I need a class that teaches me how NOT to miss you that much.
There goes - a pathetic stalker story that happened to my friend. And I forgot to mention, the stalker had continued his unhealthy craving for her even when she was married. How could you sympathize with this kind of creepy yearning for someone? The most you could feel is dread and annoyance at such persisting pest.
But comes to think of it, what would you do if you yearn for someone who is already attached to someone else? Would you go to the extent of that pathetic stalker? Or would you just give up like a respectable gentleman?
Deep inside this demented society we live in, I am sure there are some rather delicate soul who prefer to continue hoping in a quiet way. A forlorn being walking alone and watching from afar, secretly praying for the ship to come in one day. A shift of heart, a change of mind – whenever the cruel destiny decides to be more merciful. Anything that would drive that person we yearn for safely in our arms, and no matter how broken or hurt she is – we’ll tend to her wound and make her well and whole again.
This thought of mine was captured perfectly in a timeless song called “Bizarre Love Triangle”. Originally made popular by an 80’s band New Order, the song had been covered by numerous other artists. One of the most endearing version is this version by Frente.
The chorus encapsulates the who essence of this star-crossed relationship:
Every time I see you falling, I get down on my knees and pray
I’m waiting for that final moment, You’ll say the words that I can’t say
So for this friend of mine - who is leaving my company to begin a new chapter of her life in Singapore, this song is dedicated to you. Enjoy.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Monday, May 10, 2010
Heaven and Hell
There was a waterfall near my village – which I used to go when I was a kid. The water was sparkling clean – cool and refreshing. It is a place where you can lose count of time – a place where you can lose yourself amidst the maddening heat. The memory is still vivid in my mind after all these years, how I used to soak myself under the water and came out a new person – as if the water can wash away all your worries and concern. The gush of water as it falls on your head – if you stand under neath the waterfall – reminds you of a massage by a skillful masseuse – as she knead away your headaches – injecting pleasure with every touch.
Nevertheless, in order to reach this hidden paradise, you need to go through a dangerous path – slightly off-road and filled with wild bushes. The path stretched over a kilometer and a half – laid haphazardly and wide enough just a man to walk through. The bushes grew close to each other and when you walk by, you can feel it brushing your legs in a squeamish way – and in some area there are even thorny bushes that stings and might even be poisonous. People say there are a lot of snakes hiding amongst the bushes, ready to spring at unsuspecting prey and if you are unlucky, you might even run into a wild boar waiting to charge at you. Unfortunately, this is the only path that was available at the time and if you want to enjoy the bliss of the heavenly waterfall, you have to brave yourself through this hellish stretch of jungle track.
Risky as it is, I found myself unable to resist the call of the waterfall, and would visit it as often as opportunity allowed. I cut myself many times in the bushes and once I saw a two-foot long snake slithered by – but that never stopped me from going. I see the dangerous path as an obstacle that I have to overcome in order to enjoy something that elevates my soul. Some people would have appalled by my foolishness, but then again they could never understand what the waterfall meant to me.
I once had a shift of career during my working stint in Japan. When I moved to Osaka, I had to be separated from my daughter for a period of few months. I didn’t know whether I would like the job – and I need times to settle down before I could take care of her. I had no choice but to leave her with her mother.
I missed her terribly – my little princess. I would call her every night – talking to her about her days in her nursery – did she sleep at school today? Sometimes I would tell her bedtimes story over the phone – the phone charges was exorbitant but that didn’t matter naught, what matters is hearing her voice – her laughter is the most beautiful music for him.
The only problem with this arrangement – was the fact that in order to reach my lovely daughter, I had to call the mother’s cellphone – what can you expect? She is only 3 at the time. And that means I have to talk to the mother first.
“You are enjoying yourself, aren’t you? Having a lot of fun, eh?”
The mother’s voice was always full of mockery. Even with more than hundreds of kilometers away, I could sense the hostility in her voice – ready to pick a fight. The accusing tone of her voice cut like a knife. This would usually be followed by the guilt inducing therapy.
“Do you know that your daughter was looking for you last night? She was crying and saying that she wanted to play with Papa. And you know what I told her? I told her Papa doesn’t want her anymore.”
I would be consumed by mounting anger - like a fire slowly building up on a pile of woods. I feel like extending my hands into the cellphone and reach across the phone line to strangle her, that bitch – but that is something I can’t possibly do, can I?
“You can go for movies and drinking session with your friends while we suffer here – with your meager allowance of 2K. You know how much things cost these days? We could hardly survive with your two bloody K. And still you could afford to go out and have fun.”
She never failed to stir my anger – sometimes she would rile me to the point where I want to crush the phone and use a hammer on it - but somehow I have come to accept that this is something that I have to go through in order to talk to my daughter.
So I would take a long breath and let her words flow through my mind – like forcing oneself to listen to very bad music. It usually would extend up until she made a point – and that is more often than not – a request for more money –perhaps for an expensive facial or hair treatment. I would eventually have to relent to her outrageous demands – and heave a sigh of relief when my daughter came on.
I could never understand why a person can use her daughter as a tool to blackmail – and sometimes as a shield to cover up her own mistake. But make no mistake – such a person does exist – and to face her or to talk to her is sometimes tougher than Dante’s journey across Hell. Thinking back, it’s million times tougher than using that jungle track to reach my childhood hideaway – the waterfall.
Perhaps this is life – designed as a maze to test our integrity and virtues. In order to reach the heaven, we have to walk through hell. And if we should crumble and fall along the way – at least we know we are one step closer to the heaven. Perhaps that’s the reason why human like me – we still take the risk, we still take the only way we know to reach the one we love – even thought that means we might have to struggle and suffer along the way.
At least we have a destiny – a “heaven” where we know we belong. Some people don’t even know where there heaven lies – they just walk around aimlessly all their life.
So if you just happened to be walking on the path that traverses hell and filled with agony and suffering at this moment – be tough. The heaven is just a few more steps ahead.
Nevertheless, in order to reach this hidden paradise, you need to go through a dangerous path – slightly off-road and filled with wild bushes. The path stretched over a kilometer and a half – laid haphazardly and wide enough just a man to walk through. The bushes grew close to each other and when you walk by, you can feel it brushing your legs in a squeamish way – and in some area there are even thorny bushes that stings and might even be poisonous. People say there are a lot of snakes hiding amongst the bushes, ready to spring at unsuspecting prey and if you are unlucky, you might even run into a wild boar waiting to charge at you. Unfortunately, this is the only path that was available at the time and if you want to enjoy the bliss of the heavenly waterfall, you have to brave yourself through this hellish stretch of jungle track.
Risky as it is, I found myself unable to resist the call of the waterfall, and would visit it as often as opportunity allowed. I cut myself many times in the bushes and once I saw a two-foot long snake slithered by – but that never stopped me from going. I see the dangerous path as an obstacle that I have to overcome in order to enjoy something that elevates my soul. Some people would have appalled by my foolishness, but then again they could never understand what the waterfall meant to me.
******
I once had a shift of career during my working stint in Japan. When I moved to Osaka, I had to be separated from my daughter for a period of few months. I didn’t know whether I would like the job – and I need times to settle down before I could take care of her. I had no choice but to leave her with her mother.
I missed her terribly – my little princess. I would call her every night – talking to her about her days in her nursery – did she sleep at school today? Sometimes I would tell her bedtimes story over the phone – the phone charges was exorbitant but that didn’t matter naught, what matters is hearing her voice – her laughter is the most beautiful music for him.
The only problem with this arrangement – was the fact that in order to reach my lovely daughter, I had to call the mother’s cellphone – what can you expect? She is only 3 at the time. And that means I have to talk to the mother first.
“You are enjoying yourself, aren’t you? Having a lot of fun, eh?”
The mother’s voice was always full of mockery. Even with more than hundreds of kilometers away, I could sense the hostility in her voice – ready to pick a fight. The accusing tone of her voice cut like a knife. This would usually be followed by the guilt inducing therapy.
“Do you know that your daughter was looking for you last night? She was crying and saying that she wanted to play with Papa. And you know what I told her? I told her Papa doesn’t want her anymore.”
I would be consumed by mounting anger - like a fire slowly building up on a pile of woods. I feel like extending my hands into the cellphone and reach across the phone line to strangle her, that bitch – but that is something I can’t possibly do, can I?
“You can go for movies and drinking session with your friends while we suffer here – with your meager allowance of 2K. You know how much things cost these days? We could hardly survive with your two bloody K. And still you could afford to go out and have fun.”
She never failed to stir my anger – sometimes she would rile me to the point where I want to crush the phone and use a hammer on it - but somehow I have come to accept that this is something that I have to go through in order to talk to my daughter.
So I would take a long breath and let her words flow through my mind – like forcing oneself to listen to very bad music. It usually would extend up until she made a point – and that is more often than not – a request for more money –perhaps for an expensive facial or hair treatment. I would eventually have to relent to her outrageous demands – and heave a sigh of relief when my daughter came on.
I could never understand why a person can use her daughter as a tool to blackmail – and sometimes as a shield to cover up her own mistake. But make no mistake – such a person does exist – and to face her or to talk to her is sometimes tougher than Dante’s journey across Hell. Thinking back, it’s million times tougher than using that jungle track to reach my childhood hideaway – the waterfall.
******
Perhaps this is life – designed as a maze to test our integrity and virtues. In order to reach the heaven, we have to walk through hell. And if we should crumble and fall along the way – at least we know we are one step closer to the heaven. Perhaps that’s the reason why human like me – we still take the risk, we still take the only way we know to reach the one we love – even thought that means we might have to struggle and suffer along the way.
At least we have a destiny – a “heaven” where we know we belong. Some people don’t even know where there heaven lies – they just walk around aimlessly all their life.
So if you just happened to be walking on the path that traverses hell and filled with agony and suffering at this moment – be tough. The heaven is just a few more steps ahead.
Sunday, May 09, 2010
The Resemblance
她总是说得太多，有意义的又太少，让我总有种淹没在她制造出的话语泥淖中的感觉。即使是日常生活中的一点点琐事，她也必须剖开来谨慎处理；和她说话，我必须谨慎挑选使用的字眼，因为一些对我而言毫无恶意的话语，却会让她和我彻夜争辩，逼我澄清使用这些字眼的动机。我总觉得，她永远都陷在焦虑的情绪中，担忧那些她觉得自己没做好的事，而她所采取的应对方法就是不断分析它，直到有一天这事在她生命中已不再存有任何意义为止。
到后来，在我拒绝参与这种对话后，她开始留字条给我。起初还很正常，像“请买奶粉回来”或“Day care fees due tomorrow. Pls put the money in the envelope by tonite”之类的，但随着时间过去，这些字条变得越来越复杂，而且敌意也渐渐增加。
有天我很晚回家，一回家便发现一张字条，上面写道：“我已经告诉过你好几次了，出门上班前一定要把早餐的盘子放进洗碗机里，但是我今天回家又看到你的咖啡杯还留在餐桌上。我以为我能指望你，以为你会好好倾听我所说的话，用细心和尊重的态度对待我的要求，但我想是我看错人了。我们的确需要好好谈谈，越快越好。”最后这四个字她特别强调，在下面用力画了两条线。
我得承认，那时我的心情并不太好。我立刻抓起笔，在这张字条上写下“F**k You！我受够你妈的这些字条了”，然后贴在冰箱上好让她一早就能看见。隔天，虽然在最后一刻她还想拦住我跟我说话，我却头也不回地离开了那个地方。
He spoke so much while saying so little - I sometimes felt as if I were drowning in the mud of his words. Even the smallest details or our work had to broken down and processed; speaking to him – I had to choose my words carefully, because I knew any of them, as innocuous as they may seemed to me, might result in me having daylong conversation with him in explaining my motives behind those words. It seemed to me that he is anxious all the time, nervous he might not please the higher boss, and the only way he can be in control is to analyze every piece of information until there is no essence left in them at all.
Sometimes later, after I’d begun to refuse to engage her in these discussions, he began leaving me email. Just the usual stuffs at first – “Please check your assigned tasks and feedback accordingly” or “Your tasks are due tomorrow. Please ensure the acceptance criteria are completed by today”- but as time passed, more emails began to come in – and they became more confusing and increasingly hostile.
One day I came to work to find this email in my inbox that said: “I’ve asked you several times to task out your assignments in the system before the new sprint starts, and yet I’ve log in to the system last night to find this not done. I guess I’ve been wrong in assuming that I can expect you to listen to me when I voice my needs, and to take on your responsibilities with sensitivity and respect to mine. We need to talk about this ASAP.” The last word was highlighted in Bold and underlined twice.
I had to admit – I wasn’t in my best mood at the time. I immediately replied with the following: “F**k you! I’m sick of your f**king emails!” The next day – although he tried to engage me in one last conversation, I walked out without a single word.
It is eerily odd to realize that there are some ppl in your personal life that resemble some ppl in your line of work~~~
到后来，在我拒绝参与这种对话后，她开始留字条给我。起初还很正常，像“请买奶粉回来”或“Day care fees due tomorrow. Pls put the money in the envelope by tonite”之类的，但随着时间过去，这些字条变得越来越复杂，而且敌意也渐渐增加。
有天我很晚回家，一回家便发现一张字条，上面写道：“我已经告诉过你好几次了，出门上班前一定要把早餐的盘子放进洗碗机里，但是我今天回家又看到你的咖啡杯还留在餐桌上。我以为我能指望你，以为你会好好倾听我所说的话，用细心和尊重的态度对待我的要求，但我想是我看错人了。我们的确需要好好谈谈，越快越好。”最后这四个字她特别强调，在下面用力画了两条线。
我得承认，那时我的心情并不太好。我立刻抓起笔，在这张字条上写下“F**k You！我受够你妈的这些字条了”，然后贴在冰箱上好让她一早就能看见。隔天，虽然在最后一刻她还想拦住我跟我说话，我却头也不回地离开了那个地方。
*****
He spoke so much while saying so little - I sometimes felt as if I were drowning in the mud of his words. Even the smallest details or our work had to broken down and processed; speaking to him – I had to choose my words carefully, because I knew any of them, as innocuous as they may seemed to me, might result in me having daylong conversation with him in explaining my motives behind those words. It seemed to me that he is anxious all the time, nervous he might not please the higher boss, and the only way he can be in control is to analyze every piece of information until there is no essence left in them at all.
Sometimes later, after I’d begun to refuse to engage her in these discussions, he began leaving me email. Just the usual stuffs at first – “Please check your assigned tasks and feedback accordingly” or “Your tasks are due tomorrow. Please ensure the acceptance criteria are completed by today”- but as time passed, more emails began to come in – and they became more confusing and increasingly hostile.
One day I came to work to find this email in my inbox that said: “I’ve asked you several times to task out your assignments in the system before the new sprint starts, and yet I’ve log in to the system last night to find this not done. I guess I’ve been wrong in assuming that I can expect you to listen to me when I voice my needs, and to take on your responsibilities with sensitivity and respect to mine. We need to talk about this ASAP.” The last word was highlighted in Bold and underlined twice.
I had to admit – I wasn’t in my best mood at the time. I immediately replied with the following: “F**k you! I’m sick of your f**king emails!” The next day – although he tried to engage me in one last conversation, I walked out without a single word.
*****
It is eerily odd to realize that there are some ppl in your personal life that resemble some ppl in your line of work~~~
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