Saturday, October 07, 2006

The Odd's bum was kicked...

A month has ended.

It has been five months and two days since I've been away from Bruneian soil.

It's been three months and thirteen days since I last saw any member of my immediate family. Also the same amount of time since I had to learn to make my own decisions and to be my own girl.

I refuse to call myself a woman because then I would seem to have grown up.

In some aspects I probably have grown up.

I now know what's important when it came to budgeting. Food does take more priority than a newly released book or CD.

Or any stuffed animal that catches my eye.

Or any great new pen that writes oh-so-smoothly-it-glides-man!

Or any cool new notebook that I will love so very much with such strong passion and the kind of love that-will-never-make-me-write-anything-in-it-because-I'll-treat-as-a-freaking-trophy.

Oh gosh how I hate growing up.

I miss being able to be irresponsible and not thinking about any consequence because I know all I'm gonna get is a scolding from my parents.

Here every act of irresponsibility could in the end result to

a. Lots of smelly clothes piled on top of each other in a cabinet with another bag filled with the same odour-ful-ness clothes tightly packed into an exploding bag because instead of washing my own clothes that day, I decided to put it off and finally they pile up into one gigantic pile and I have to bring it back home to ask and beg pitifully to our laundrer to wash the large overwhelming pile of stink in the solid form of cloth.

b. Lack of food which can be charcterized by the grumbling stomach and me trying to ward it off with a new book that I soon realize that I'm never going to read ever again because once again, I have judged a book by it's cover, literally. Or listening to that CD by a band where I've heard only one of their songs and that I will regret buying because it only has a few cool songs while the rest ultimately sucks or hugging a spur-of-the-moment-newly-bought-stuffed-toy which I will love forever but I realize that my hunger pangs will never be satisfied by it's soft hug-able-ness and I know that if anyone would ever ask it from me with enough enthusiasm, I will give it away or scribbling in my recently acquired notebook with my recently acquired gliding-pen, writing a journal entry of how hungry I am and how I should have saved up for food instead of buying the very same notebook and pen-that-glides-and-yet-seems-to-be-losing-ink-darn-it that I'm writing with.

c. Great globules of that feeling called guilt because what I could have spent on something more important, like feeding that hungry little child that I saw while walking the by the street or those young siblings that needed to get home but I couldn't help them buy a freaking bus ticket cause I had already spent all of my money, instead spending it on something I probably would never use ever again because I fell for that trap, which is ironically also a different guilt. You know the ones that all salesman are taught from their first training. If you can't get them with how cool the product is get them with how you really need this commission, the type of guilt called the-please-help-so-that-I-can-make-a-living-and-feed-my-family-of-thirteen-plus-a-wife which I can never resist no matter how much I try.

And many more...

I think I'm a walking living miracle.

I survived five months without bothering to go through that hassle that most human beings have to go through every single day of their life.

You know that ability that all human being have and I somehow ended up lacking in.

Using their brain to come up with decisions.

I in turn use chocolate overdose mixed with reading for hours under the yellow-ish glow of a flashlight and it's after-effects of brain-deadening-ness to come up with life changing decisions.

They said according to The Odds, I wouldn't be able to survive a week.

Well I did!

I wiped my shoes with The Odds' rear end.

Lotsa love, Jana



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