How to die?

Life is a such a hectic rush these days that I have no time to let yesterday’s dinner sink in yet, let alone the fact that I only have two more semesters left til graduation.

Or, more specifically, one semester left in UTAR. I’ve got a three-month break next semester. You can envy me, but I advice against it. I might accelerate with uncalled for speed into a panicky state of mind, babbling incoherencies like “I’m freaking out I don’t want to graduate I don’t want to leave UTAR not after my faculty changed into such a cool name like Faculty of Creative Industries phwoar today is Thursday die die die I don’t wanna graduate.”

I have a million things to do.

I’m trying to figure out how to chomp it all down in one bite.

One minute I’m giggling in false security, the next minute I find myself surrounded with a band of deadlines – without my copy of “Muay Thai for Beginners” (bookmarked at Pg 3) too. Awesome.

All of a sudden it’s Week 9. Pardon me, the end of week 9, I mean. I stared accusingly at the number until it shuffled away in embarrassment, quicker than I would like, actually. So, now, all of a sudden it’s going to be Week 10 while I tried to recount what the heck I did for the past 10 weeks.

Emo, birthday, emo, deadlines. Blank.

Dude, where’s my bleedin’ brakes?

I really want to burst into tears right now. But that’s a waste of precious time and honestly, trying to cram for exam while bawling my eyes out means I won’t do a good job of either. And I’m too stoned to feel emo right now. Too panic to rock on. Too sleepy to explain.

I’m just typing this for the sake of a new post on my blog. And to complain about my life simmering in deadlines. And to show myself that hey, I can still make sentences.

Excuse me, I need to go slap myself awake.

Atrocious!

I just blew almost RM100 in less than an hour. That was so unlike me that when I was looking in the mirror to check out how I look with my new bag, I thought, “Who the heck are you and what have you done with the kiam siap teh ais limei but omg that is one hawt bag you have there.”

All courtesy of the birthday ang pau from me sis. I am now fabulously broke.

And the most unlikely of all was that I bought two bags. Yes, that’s the number right after one. Normally the number two would not exist in the same breath as “Li Mei bought…”, unless it’s RM2 or something of the equivalent kiam-siap-ness.

One of them is a backpack for going university. It’s got some funky designs but somehow it looks damn huge after I bring it home o.O Oh well. For RM27, I can close one eye on the little (er, in no ways literal) details. But I’ve got to admit, the design on the bag is pretty cool. Thanks, Jacq for helping me choose.

Yet that’s not my major buy. The remaining RM60++ is spent on a leather bag on 70% sale. One of those awesome ones that switches from a sling bag to a handbag with just a transformation on the strap. Genius sial. Have been eyeing those for ages. I usually treat any bag above RM50 a threat to the part of me so attached to flea markets and bargain bins. Yet for a price tag which shrunk from RM200 to RM60, I can overlook some principles that have long stood strong (and even longer beside bargain bins as I dig and dig).

Of course, I felt the guilt. Do the side effects of retail therapy affect only me? My inner gallows was waving the noose of self-indulgence. I mean, why do I feel so bad buying things I genuinely like, and wanted?

Well, I AM an adult now. While more responsibilities ensued it also counts to take certain things less seriously. To take myself less seriously. Of course, blowing RM100 in one go, for myself, may never become a habit for me – I just don’t have the kind of bank account. But I am proud that today, I decide to give myself a nice treat.

Thanks Sis! Thanks also to Sayang for his patience and contributions to Teh Ais’s retail therapy fund. Of course, thanks also to Jacq for making up my mind when I’m too busy fretting about whether the forty-year-old me would still like that bag or not.

Phew, I’m knackered. It’s one of my favourite expression to describe how drained I feel. Knackered – even the vowels and consonants seems to slump forward. My heart is still beating furiously from the retail marathon (yes yes, it’s only two bags but then again my stamina is famous for being non-existent), but the rest of my body just wanna close shop. Ta.

Love Today

My heart withers easily; a rose laid out for the afternoon heat.

I feel the corner that it retreats to. I feel the scab that it picks. I saw the window that it closed. I saw the angle which its lens were focused. I know the key which it has lost. I know the moisture that it craves. I pity the envy it has over cactuses – self-contained, defensive, but also saves. I hate the thorns that it had allowed to grow – they hide behind the deceiving bloom; they hurt its lovers.

They hurt me.

Behind the camaraderie the clown applied too much make-up over a tear-stricken face. Behind the shell the cocoon could not grow wings. Behind the words the emptiness spreads and spreads.

Words failed me. Or have I failed the words?

I do not know how to describe these emotions. All I know is that they fed off my little elations and drinks from my rationalism. I focused my defenses on Gratitude, but I see their advancement and I have no war cries. I have an army, somewhere, but I’m too weak to command.

Twenty. The part where I got lost. The plot becomes chaotic, the flow disturbed. Looking forward only shoves me backward. Expectations became a personal burden; it drags me down. Not the first time.

Importance is personal. What is important to me is just not to others. Plain as that. They are beautiful, wonderful. They made it half-full. They just… forget. I love them to bits. Perhaps its better to love them as a whole.

In times like this, when emptiness booms in your ears, drowning whispers of comfort and courage, I look ahead and smile. There they are, smiling back, lifting my heart, asking if I’m okay, staying by me even if I don't make sense, giving sweet comments on my pictures, asking if I need money, laughing with me, calling me mummy with an exclamation mark, spending time untangling the mess I’ve made.

Thank You, angels.

I have issues. But this time there’s no tears, only resolution.

I will settle the issues. I will be happier. I will open the windows to let out the stench of suppressed misgivings. Emotional teh ais? I’m tired of it; and I’m sure you are too.