Hi there,

It was nice seeing you more often these days.

You still look cute, do you know that?

I’m sorry that I’m cold and aloof.

I’m sorry that you are shy and reserved.

But thank you for taking the initiative to talk to me twice.

I know how much that must have taken you.

So thank you again.

I promise that I will try harder next time.

I promise that I will remove my mask and tear down that Berlin wall of mine.

Till we meet again.


“I can’t be your boyfriend….

….but that doesn’t mean that I don’t love you.”


These words keep coming back to haunt me.

Don’t you worry, no one said that to me (or is this an actual cause worthy of worry?). These were lines from a movie.

Sometimes I find it hard to understand. If you love me, why can’t you be with me? Why can’t you stay by my side?

Why is it so hard? What’s the actual obstacle standing in our paths? Parents’ objection? Others’ disapproval? Or is it really just a lack of courage from you, to stand up to our love and go against all odds? Selfishness? Or worse, do you simply not love me enough to make the sacrifice?

Or is it me who is selfish or do not love you enough, therefore wanting you to sacrifise for our “happiness”? Why must it be you who have to make the painful decision? Why can’t it be me who leave first, so that you do not have to make any decision which you may eventually regret?

I have a lot of questions but I also have one answer (I think):
Because if we love each other and yet do not be together, we will both suffer. Even though we may be miles apart, our agony will be common.

In any movie, unrequited love always makes a good ending as long as the story is reasonable. It leaves a sour pange at the deepest of your heart that you will remember for a long long time. But call me a hopeless romantic, I always prefer the “hugs and kisses”, “happily ever after” type of ending.

Because, yes, love alone cannot make a relationship work, but love should have you giving your best.  

If you love me, you will be with me.

Then again, perhaps I don’t understand love.

I guess I can safely say that I am definitely not an impatient person. But just how patient I am? It’s hard to affirm.

Sure, I can wait an hour in a queue, even though I seldom will unless it is totally necessary. Food, no matter how good it is, and free gifts, no matter how worthwhile they may be, are certainly not in my list of necessities. Jigsaw puzzles? I can do that. We’ve at least four 1000-piece puzzles hung at home and I had contributed to most of them. Although to be honest, my ever-impatient dad was surprisingly the one who spent the most time on them and fitted most of the pieces. My dad who can never wait for more than 15 minutes for his food, cannot wait for the next train to board and won’t wait for the green man to come on at traffic junctions can actually patiently sort all 1000 tiny pieces into different colour categories and fit them all from scratch into one beautiful final art piece. My dad never fails to amaze me and I suppose that he has learnt to be much more patient in recent years. He even enjoys gardening now, which really tests patience. On the other hand, I would be impatient and want to complete the entire puzzle at a sitting even if it means sacrifising my sleep, which of course would never succeed and lead to me losing interest in the half-done puzzle on the third day. However I can sit down for hours on a stretch doing craftwork, again tending to refuse sleep until I finish it.  

Well, I suppose it depends on what interests us. The more interested you are in something, the more effort and time you are willing to put into it.

Now here comes my point.

Does it mean that I have no interest in men then?

That captured your attention, didn’t it?

But that doesn’t mean that I’m more into women. Women fail to turn me on at all.

However it’s true that my interest in any particular man never lasts. It can be fiery passion I feel this week and all feelings fade miserably by the next. Especially if I think that the feeling is not reciprocated or mutual. I do not bother to persist and persevere, which is rare considering that determination and perseverence are probably two of my greatest virtues in life. I do not bother to know the fellow better or let him understand me more. I just give up and let it die. Now, that doesn’t really sound like me either! I don’t just give up! Yet in relationships, it is my friends who persist and fight. Girls, not without any suitor waiting in line, who yet choose to work hard and fight for the one they (think they) love, wait for him to reciprocate, try to understand him more in the process. Even though there is a possibility that all are done to no avail ultimately.

Why can’t I do the same? Is it because it’s still not the Right one? Is it because I’m incapable of love? Is it because I’m not very interested in the opposite side?

Not sure, maybe, no and not really.

I have a heart of stone.

I suspect that I may be more afraid of getting hurt than falling in love. I used the word “suspect” because it’s a guess, even though not any random one but a carefully made one after much analysis. It may be our own brain and it may be our own heart, but often we cannot explain why we do the things we do. Perhaps we do not understand ourselves as much as we think or feel that we do. Hence this is my guess. If love is not such a high-risk and low-return gamble, I may be more daring to just let go and dive into it. If the man you like always feels the same towards you, I may not always need to think twice and thrice. If his and your feelings towards each other stay the same permanently like diamonds on the finger, I will fight for the man and stay with him through thick and thin. But alas! love is not merely a simple affair. If it is, everyone will be happily married, but unfortunately I cannot say the same even for many married couples.

With concern to matters of the heart, I think I am more willing to have stagnancy than brokenness. I have a friend who is still single and has kind of been pinning for this guy at work for ages. While I think that it’s incredibly sweet of my friend, who similarly has no lack of suitors, I feel that it’s not worth the pain she has to go through and that I probably can never do the same. Which explains where I am now. Is it sad? Sometimes it is, especially when I think about the possibility of facing the four walls by myself in the decades to come (assuming I won’t die young). I’m not terrified of loneliness or solitude. I just suppose that it would be nice to have someone I love and whom I’m sure can make me smile by just scratching his nose and every single word that comes out from his mouth makes me laugh somehow. I know, I used “nice” like it’s something I can order off a menu or buy off a shelf in a supermarket. Like “oh, this plate of chicken rice is nice!” or “This bag is nice!” But I cannot seem to find a better word.

For my friend, I truly hope that her deep feelings for that man will be reciprocated eventually. For myself, maybe one day I can meet a man who can make me feel as willing to give as my friend too.


When I first heard this song on radio a few ago, I simply knew that I had to post it.

Beyonce – If I Were A Boy

If I were a boy
Even just for a day
I’d roll outta bed in the morning
And throw on what I wanted then go
Drink beer with the guys
And chase after girls
I’d kick it with who I wanted
And I’d never get confronted for it
Cause they’d stick up for me.

If I were a boy
I think I could understand
How it feels to love a girl
I swear I’d be a better man.
I’d listen to her
Cause I know how it hurts
When you lose the one you wanted
Cause he’s taken you for granted
And everything you had got destroyed

If I were a boy
I would turn off my phone
Tell everyone it’s broken
So they’d think that I was sleeping alone
I’d put myself first
And make the rules as I go
Cause I know that she’d be faithful
Waiting for me to come home (to come home)

It’s a little too late for you to come back
Say its just a mistake
Think I’d forgive you like that
If you thought I would wait for you
You thought wrong

[Male] You know when you act like that
I don’t think you realize how it makes me look
or feel
[Beyonce] Act like what
Why are you so jealous
It’s not like i’m sleeping with the guy
[Male] What
[Beyonce] What
[Male] I said yo
Why are you so jealous
It aint like I’m sleepin with the girl

But you’re just a boy
You don’t understand
Yeah you don’t understand
How it feels to love a girl someday
You wish you were a better man
You don’t listen to her
You don’t care how it hurts
Until you lose the one you wanted
Cause you’ve taken her for granted
And everything you have got destroyed
But you’re just a boy

Ok, I know that the song doesn’t really talk about the girl honestly wanting to be a boy herself. It’s more like lamenting about men, which is *sigh* as usual, hey what’s new, not understanding us women, and saying how she would do much better if she was to be in his shoes. I am not going to discuss this because let’s face it ladies, this is the way it was, still is and will always be!  

But would you want to be one of the opposite sex if you could have the chance? If you could do it without the pain of a sex change, or the possible subsequent ostracization or discrimination by others, would you want it? I have girlfriends who would have preferred to born as boys because they feel that men have easier lives than the fairer sex. Me? I seldom feel this way. Maybe except when I suffer dreadful menstrual cramps. That’s when I will wish that I was a man instead because the chances of a man having the experience and knowing how the painful cramps feel are as high as Bush being elected as the next President of the United States.

The thought of being born with a different set of sex chromosomes as what I currently possess seldom strikes me because firstly, it is a pretty useless thought. Even if you think about it day and night, 24 hours a day, you may grow a moustache but you will never become a man. Even if you do splash all your money on a sex change, let me inform you first from a professional aspect that your newly constructed dick will never ever work in the same way as a natural one will, so please save your money and donate it to my funds for a Kate Spade instead. It will be far more useful. Secondly, I believe that men and women are equal, and if they are, then there is no advantage of any one over the other which explains no need to choose one over the other. This is possibly different from a regular feminist’s point of view where they fight for equal rights for women as I think that we, both sons of Adam and daughters of Eve, if you are religious (well, I ain’t but the phrasing sounds cool), are equal from Day Uno.

Sure, we are as different as we can be from a biological point of view. Socially, we are not any closer than the sky and the earth. Yet I believe that should you minus away all the differences, all beings from Mars and Venus pretty much stand on the same level. It’s just that men and women suffer different forms of injustice in life. For men, there is a lot of stereotyping. Men are supposed to go out and work their asses off to support their families. Men are not supposed to cry. Men are supposed to be strong and tough. Men are not supposed to wear pink and look or behave feminine. Men are supposed to do this and that, and not supposed to do that and this. Women on the other hand face more discrimination. Women cannot do this and that. Even though they may be capable of it, they can be denied of the chance right at the beginning because men do not think that the women can accomplish it.

I am no expert on gender studies, so I am most incapable of explaining further or giving more valid examples. I will admit this, but  that does not mean that my idea is totally absurd. I still believe that I am right in some ways. While many say that it is difficult to be a woman, I do not think that life is any easier for our fellow male Earthlings. Hence I do not desire to be a man. Besides, there can be many advantages to being a girl. Sometimes it is so much easier to get your way out of trouble or get something into your hands just because you are a girl. Furthermore, because some people generally do not expect more from a girl, your outstanding performance will be more likely to shine through and be noticed. It may be neglected on the biased grounds of you carrying tits instead of a dick by some old foggy idiots, but it’s alright because you know that it’s not because you are incapable.

In fact, I wonder whether it is the more difficult circumstances which make women stronger and more powerful, and the comfortable environment of the past traditional patriarchal system in the society is weakening the men on the other hand. I would not doubt this possibility haha. Sounds like Darwinian evolution to me. Although being a man himself, Charles might not have nodded his head in agreement at my proposed hypothesis.

If I could be a man for a day, I wonder what I would do. Visit the Gents? Peep at the men peeing? Listen to what guys really talk about in the loo? Because you know us girls gossip and talk about anything in the washroom. Venture into the men’s changing room at the gym and see what’s going on in there? Party at a local gay bar or club? Or party at the usual straight club and try loads of cheesy pick-up lines at the pretty girls there all night? That last part might actually be really interesting.

Would you want to be a girl or a boy? What would you have done if you could be one of the opposite sex for a day? Have you ever given any thought to this?

I am a cat person.

Sure, I like dogs too since I am quite the animal lover. I like puppies and interestingly, the larger breeds like the husky, the golden retriever, the collie and oh, the chow chow. What a name for a dog. Sounds like it will need lots of bath.

But I waaaaayyyyyy prefer cats. Why? Because they don’t jump onto you, trying to make you fall, bang your head and die, don’t lick you all over, don’t give a shit about you, cannot remember your name or your face for the matter of fact, will never come when you call them (unless they are hungry and you happen to be carrying a can of cat food), and don’t expect too much attention from you.

Resident cat of AMK town central. Ain't she adorable?

Just like how I like my men anyway. And I mean only for the last point. I cannot take anything or anyone who demands too much of my attention and time.

It is intriguing how we can always infer plenty of meaning from otherwise meaningless affairs.

He once wrote a poem for me.

Okay, he didn’t write it FOR me. To be exact, I was there with him at the food court one day after school when he penned it down. Alright, alright, another girl friend was there too, though I couldn’t find fault with her presence because it was her who brought the two of us together as friends. Although I thought she got slightly jealous when we quickly became very close friends, much better than either of us with her.

It was one fine afternoon after lunch when he suddenly remembered a poem he made up in his mind on his way to school this morning. He asked for some paper (that fellow never bothered to bring foolscap to school) and he wrote it down on the spot in less than 15 minutes with some minor help from me. He didn’t write it for me, nor with me in mind, but mind you, he did give it to me after he completed it. He didn’t seem to bother to save it for his own keeping.

Recently, I thought of putting it up on this blog because it was a lovely piece of work. It was in Chinese and each word at the start of each paragraph joined together to make a line of its own. I think it was something that went along the line of 风雨你我她. It was about a girl, and yes, he did have someone in his thoughts when he came up with this poem. I didn’t know about it until later and I actually knew the girl personally.

Anyway you all will never have the chance to read that impressive piece of work written by a then-17-year-old boy because I believe I’ve thrown it away. I haven’t remember to check yet but I think that’s what happened. This is also the fate of all correspondence between the two of us. In case you wonder whether your cards or letters to me all ended up in the bin as well, no they are still safe in my drawer. I keep every single letter and card from my friends and back in those days in school before we relied so much on technology, we used to write each other letters on a regular basis. In fact, I’ve so many from friends whom I’m still very close to, that they’re causing me a headache for taking up so much space. Yet I truly can’t bear to throw any away although I never take them out to read – I can’t bear to read some of the childish (but hey perfectly normal for that age) nonsense we used to gush about. (-.-)  

So why had all his stuff ended up in the incinerator? I guess you could count me as the type of girl who tears up every single letter and photo of her ex and then burns them. Except that we weren’t in a romantic relationship. But all the same, our friendship ended. Cruelly put to a stop by me. I said cruel because I left him at his most vulnerable when his soul was being torn apart and tormented by his parents’ ugly divorce and I was the only one whom he talked to about it. I said cruel because he didn’t have a freaking idea what happened. However, to be truthful, neither did I!!! Up till now, I’m still unsure why I did what I did.  

Was it because I liked him more than a friend (I think) but he didn’t (at least at that point of time)?

Was it because he felt that I was his BEST friend?

He never said that in my face. It was my buddy P who told me and he knew because a girl friend who knew that P and I were friends told him. I presumed that this girl liked the guy (not P, but I think she might have a thing for P too because he’s cute) because she was always trying to hang around him (yes, he was cute too), and she probably asked him about me because they all knew we were tight. I don’t know how any normal girl should have felt upon hearing this kind of information. Perhaps happy because the guy you like actually thinks that you are his BESTEST friend (meaning maybe, just maybe, you’ve a chance)?

I’m not normal so I wouldn’t know and I’m not normal because I was MORTIFIED upon hearing that. In fact, I think my response to P was “We are best friends meh?!“. I suppose I never ever expected him to think of me that way, even though he did confide in me about his troubles including his parents’ divorce and the family meetings which would make him cry all night. Even though I myself would never have revealed such secrets except to my few closest friends. But I never thought of myself as important to him because while I was almost somehow always there when he needed a comforting listening ear, I could never reach him when I was worried about him.

Well, that’s because I never had his phone number nor his pager number (no handphones then)! Nor did he have mine! And what bothered me was that he had never asked me for it. (-.-) Where got good friends don’t have each other’s contact numbers one?? And I’d too much unneccesary pride to ask for his at that time. I think what hurt me the most was what he said on a few occasions, whether unintentionally or purposely but all the same hurting to a very sensitive person, that made me feel like being a nuisance around him.

It came to a point where I was getting upset way too often for my liking over what he said or did and it was all too much for my poor little fist-sized heart to bear (besides I’ve congential heart problem). I made up my mind to end it all one fine day. My method was primitive, simple but super effective: I simply stopped talking to him and avoided him on purpose. For someone who lived 2 blocks away from him, took the same bus at the same bus stop with him to and from school, purposely waited for his class to end so that I could accidentally bump into him at the school bus stop and take the bus home together, this was drastic and not easy but it definitely worked. Despite being clueless about what struck him all of a sudden, he took the hint pretty fast. He never avoided me on purpose but he knew not to try and talk to me anymore when we happened to meet each other (I would pretend not to see him anyway).   

That really did it. It ended our friendship. Or rather I put an end to it.

Do I ever regret it?

I regret it with every passing day. Not because if I’d stayed by him, things might have worked out between the two of us. I harbour no such thoughts. I can never be the Wong Li Lin in that “Leap Years” movie, waiting for her beau for 12 long years. If I like you and you don’t reciprocate, I pack my feelings up and leave (looking for the next better port) with suavity. I don’t think I have a problem with that. I regret leaving him when he needed a friend the most. Even for me, I honestly felt that it was almost inhumane. It’s like giving someone struggling in the middle of the sea a lifebuoy and then pulling it back from him, leaving him to die. Okay, not that dramatic but you know what I mean.

He’s doing fine somewhere on this tiny island of ours, I’m quite certain, but this will remain a regret which I’ve to live with for I do not possess the courage to correct it. Yes, once upon a time, my heart did miss a beat but now it has pretty much stayed stagnant since, as it’s not an enjoyable feeling of having one’s heart racing this moment, and wrenched painfully the other.

May it rest in peace.  

Ok, the post which failed to earn its rights to get published as it lost its focus was my complaints on how guys don’t read. And no, I don’t incude FHM magazines or pornography. (-.-) Nor textbooks for that matter.

Before you start retaliating about the untruthfulness of this supposed allegation, please hear me out: I do immediately recognise it as totally unfair because I’m ascertained that there are many men out there who do read and read good books. Unfortunately I’m not surrounded by any. My only explanation is that my guy friends are mostly from school and are usually from the same CCA. Guys who play sports competitively don’t seem to read. Okay, okay, before you start yelling your head off in mock protest at the computer screen, at least that seemed to be the case for my school, alright? No boys I knew of from the soccer team, the basketball team, the dragonboat/canoeing team and my own volleyball team has a habit of reading for leisure. As for the boys in my class, my clique hanged out most with the four slackers. They don’t even read lecture notes or textbooks let alone other reading materials.  

So none of my guy friends read. It’s not that they aren’t smart. Most of them are quite intelligent and excel academically. Furthermore, they are fun-loving, provide great company and mostly armed with a good sense of humor. I just don’t think they are very knowledgeable. Unless it comes to girls, pornography and of course, I guess, sex. *sigh* In fact, the last time I saw a buddy with a *gasp* library book, I was too shocked for words. I told him frankly albeit jokingly in a good mannered way that I couldn’t believe that he was actually reading. That was when he told me that the book was about alien cockroaches trying to take over the world. Seriously. I’m not joking. At that instant, I didn’t know whether to pat him on the back and encourage him for the efforts, or to laugh and pee in my pants. (-.-)

That said, it doesn’t make a man any less appealing even if he doesn’t read much, as long as there is something up there in his head amidst the grey and white matter. But I think reading ups the sexiness of a man! Really! I’ve a friend who once hyped about how his crush from his Medicine course (who of course looked as cute as a button too) read Forbe magazines for leisure. I understood the appeal but you know what my friend read? FHM. Enough said. Of course he didn’t get the girl. On the other hand, I once met a patient, an American Caucasian who’s an economist in a reputable international bank (his job alone drew instant awe), and he was reading a thick book on how the current Asean politics affect the global economy, as a bedtime “storybook”. I thought that was HOT. Except that he was in his 50s (but honestly looked like 30-40s instead, and still good-looking in the clean way) and married with children haha.

I realise that I look at men very differently nowadays as compared to how I would before I graduated from school. In the past, I would have cared more about whether he played sports or listened to music; now, other than the heart and body, I also place more focus on his brain, his knowledge, intelligence and wisdom.

Eh, wait, does that mean my expectations are higher now?? *horrified

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