Phony me

I’m eating my own words – embarrassed, but secretly relishing it nonetheless.

When it comes to handphones, Nokia vibrates my world (Shit that sounds wrong. Oh well, a writer salvages whatever she assumes to border on being pun-ny, so bear with me). I loudly declare everywhere that Sony Ericsson is overrated, un-user friendly and seems to be made in a hurry. Then I will produce my vintage little number (a Nokia 1100, boasting a black-and-white screen that will soon be certified UN Heritage) and dares anyone to race me in retrieving a message. I’ve beaten Matthew so far and am now feeling incredibly boastful and egoistical.

Yes, this sworn nemesis of Sony Ericsson just wants to put a dent to its sales (ok lah even an egoistic me would admit that I won’t cause a dent lah. More like a nudge – by an ant).

Sayang and I used to bicker over whether SE or Nokia is more geng. I defended my vintage little number and its simple user-friendliness; while sayang will boast about how his SE camera capture awesome photos and blast crystal clear music and now…

Sayang wants to give me his old SE W810i.

He’s using his Dad’s Nokia N95.

The irony!

“Dowan la sell it lah get back the money lah give your mother lah,” I replied, brimming with sincerity and a nagging conscience.

A few hours later, the SE W810i’s screen is coated with a morbidly cheerful theme with maniacal monsters (one seems to be farting heart-shapes o.O).

It’s not my fault ok! Sayang said he don’t want to sell the phone because he would not get a good price for it, and it is still working perfectly. So, don’t waste right? And the theme is so morbidly happy that I can’t stop looking at it.

I still love Nokia though. If machines can understand people then my Nokia 1100 understands me. But of course, what do you expect after a five-year relationship? =) After playing with the SE for a while I realize that some of the functions are a little, sorry to say, idiotic. I mean, the alarm clock will automatically snooze itself ONCE you move the phone! It’s like saying “Oops sorry, I accidentally tried to wake you up. All’s good now. I'll quietly pretend that you don't have a class. Go back to sleep.” And it’ll snooze for 10 whole minutes! Wth??? I will sooooo late for class man. And then there are some minor frustrations here and there as well, which showed how much I took my Nokia for granted. The designers of the phone really thought through the whole process of how a phone will be used, and depended upon.

The same cannot be said for the newer generation Nokia, I guess, since Bryan seems to have complaints about his N95 too.

But heck, I’ll admit that the W810i has its great functions. The 2MP camera does its job well and the walkman sings wonderfully. AND MY THEME IS SO CUTE GAAAAH. Sorry *clears throat* can’t help it. I got a thing for nonsensical monsters.

Thanks, baby. I’ll take good care of your phone. And to my Nokia 1100, viva la vintage!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Humans make things too complicated. I just wish God can open up our eyes and let us see what truly matters. What that would truly make a difference. All we have is Him now to guide our steps.

Release what you hold to Him, for He is the one true Almighty. Stay strong, stay in love, stay positive.

Chin up.

Off my chest

I’ve forgotten the joy of just writing things down.

It came to a point where it’s okay not to blog anymore. It’s okay to just off the recorder and let life zoom past. It’s okay to wipe the lens while everything happens around you.

If life sucks, let me immerse in a never-ending gaming frenzy. Preferably those games that tuck my brain cells safely away and cut the leash off my adrenaline too. It’s all action and no time to think. Apparently, dashing in restaurants while cursing all the babies (only Diner Dash-ers can feel me) or dressing up models with crazy-looking but admittedly redundant clothes (squeal it with me, Eileen: “Jojo Fashion Show!”) takes your mind off the shit in life faster than you can say “f----!”

Gaming is fun, but its not fulfilling. At least, unlocking the frilly apron does not make my day (I rue the day it does). Writing used to be fulfilling. It used to be one of the very few things that I can do without breaking anything. But now, writing breaks me.

Writing became an exhausting affair, mostly draining my self-esteem. Starting every piece of writing with a bang used to be a little challenge I give myself; now it’s become compulsory - a criterion that I am less and less able to fulfill as days go on. Everything I write seems lame, unimportant, unworthy of the time. Cutesy games beckon, and I followed dreamily into a world where my words do not matter, and there are always someone who writes lamer lines (“It’s cool to serve ice cream yoghurts! Get it?”).

The very passion that helped me to heal through pains, make sense of issues and put a grin on my face is now merely my tool to survive assignments and occasionally, writing jobs. I still want to write, so badly. The good old days when I can just churn out line after the line; I miss it terribly.

I take this too seriously, I admit. When you put all your eggs in a basket, you’ll be careful about who sees your basket; lest they realize that you actually have too little eggs.

I need to let go. I need the peace which only He can give. Life sucks these days. Too much unnecessary drama. Too much hatred going on everywhere. Too much broken promises. Too much bad energy. Too much things that shouldn’t even be here at the first place.

It’s too much. I’m gonna bundle them up and give them to God. Sort it out, please. I’m drowning, they are choking, and we just need your hand, the very hand that you pulled Peter up from the water and said “why did you doubt?”

Please grant her the happiness that she deserves, Jesus. I love her so dearly. Please give us the peace which only you can give. You promised, God, two thousand years ago. Someone wrote it down and now it’s the best-selling novel in the world.

Please come for your imperfect children down here. We’re all messed up and I think some of us ate our bibs.

I don’t make sense. But it doesn’t matter, as Eileen will justify it perfectly.