I am not unhappy, just unfeeling.

Woke up this morning, bumped around preparing for work, and finally has been sitting in the office for say, 3 hours and still unfeeling. Does the world standstill when you are unhappy? I guess not. Life still goes on, regardless if its a bed of roses, or a bed of roses’ thorns.

If there is a choice of being happy or unhappy each day, would I choose the former or the latter? Does it matter to me what my choice is? Do I feel happy in being unhappy? Do I enjoy being happy? Do people even derive joy out of self misery, pray tell?

Perhaps, being blasé is a better choice. It would be a nice shield against the two extremes of joy and sorrow anyway.

Two days back, when I was busy studying for Dee.Ass.Pee, a padded envelope addressed to me arrived in the post. I could recognize the handwriting in an instant, even though it has been years since I’ve last copied homeworks from the same handwriting.

Upon opening the envelope, I discovered two things; a blue envelope and a small, yellow package.

The envelope contained one of the cutest, most significant birthday card, in a way it actually describes us. Meanwhile, the yellow packaging contained a turquoise nail polish from Skin Food, my favourite nail polish brand.

Along with the card came the longest, most touching message that makes me feel like I am a rotten best friend to her. *sniff*

For so many years after leaving secondary school and scarcely meeting, you still find the time and heart to send me greeting cards, birthday gifts and well wishes, despite me being such an blase best friend. My sincerest apologies.

I believe we could be best friends as always. As, you said, we just need to put in effort to keep in touch, to keep each other updated about our lives, no matter where we are, and what we are doing.

Its just a pleasant surprise to know that, despite miles apart, we still share the same preferences. You know what, I love Skin Food nail polish. Just like you. And I am happy that we did.

Dear Yuennie, thank you very much. Do keep in touch always.

I think I have a weakness - I can’t seem to make eye contact unless I really, really try. Its just a reflex to avert them rather than vice versa. I didn’t really realize until someone told me that is is rude not to look into the eyes of the people who are talking to me. Frankly speaking, now that I know it felt so too. Pity the Red Earth salesperson trying to sell me her products. Sigh.

To think of it, yeah, I guess its just a spontaneous mechanism of mine not to look into people’s eye. I don’t know why, I just thought I felt awkward. At the same time, it makes me feel insincere, rude even.

Heck, I don’t even look into my parents’ or friends’ when I talk to them, let alone strangers. I have no idea if it has anything to do with lack of confidence, low self esteem, or just plain ignorant.

Damnit. I must try not to be so rude. I must.

Yes, indeed I am. As much as I don’t like to relate to real life issues,the turn of events struck a chord in me that makes me feel compelled to say something. I am, afterall, a girl. Took me a sometime to string up the things that I wanted to say properly, and hopefully, not offensively.

Its happening so often lately, that it is disturbing.So many cases in a week. Reported cases that is. I wonder how many went unnoticed because they were unreported. And of the reported ones, I wonder how many cases where the beast could be caught, and if they are, I know the punishment would be insufficient. Their sins could never be properly atoned.

Seriously, its sickening. Incest, paedophiliac, gangbangs and whatnots. Whatever they are, they have the same intention. They achieve similar goals. They are monsters who seek to destroy, to humiliate, to manipulate. To satiate their sexual needs by force. To satisfy whatever sickening fantasy that they behold in their filthy, pungent mind that allows such way of act towards someone of the weaker gender. And worse, to kill their victims after that. Decapitate their bodies. Segregate their body parts. Scatter them all over the place.

If there is ever one thing that I feel strongly, it is this:

Do not ever blame the victims. They did not ask to be violated. They need help, sympathy and respect. They do not need pointing fingers and hushed whispers. And they certainly can do without accusations with assumptions that they acted or dressed in ways that provoked the rapists. Utter bullshits. Only the chauvinist pigs would churn out such brainless piece of crap in a feeble attempt to run away from responsibilities. Which in turn, gives excuses to rapists out there, who could simply said the victims provoked them and therefore they couldn’t control themselves.

So, for those who had said or even think about that, please have the decency to feel ashamed. If this happens to your loved ones such as your wife, girlfriend or daughters, I don’t think that you could laugh, shrug and think they asked to be raped because of what they did, do you?

The emotional trauma, the morbid distrust, the self destructive emotional roller coaster.

Its as if live has been ruined.

Which, ironically, indeed it is.

To womenfolk out there,

just be careful. Do take care of yourself.

Three years.

Since my grandmother has left.

The grief had long passed,

to be replaced by fond memories…

etched into the heart of those…

of whom she had made a difference.

May God bless her soul.