Dad's flight was confirmed for touchdown at Changi T2 at 2218HRS. Someone — Mum or bro or me — misinterpreted that as 8:18PM. It might be mum, because shes always insistent she's right. It might be brother, because he rarely uses his smart genes for useful and important things. It might be me, because I was groggy and sickly when made to wake up at 7PM so my judgement was definitely wrong. It cannot be the sister who was still in school because finals. So we, the waiting family, had to spend 1.5hrs waiting for Dad. It is a hilarious episode in retrospect, but it didnt make things better at the point of waiting. Primarily because there was a lot of passing blames, which I assume has been a thing that runs in the family. lolol I really dont want this to be a thing any longer but I couldnt stop myself just now from clarifying with mum that I was woken by her at 7PM because she was panicking. and if brother was so smart, why didnt he say anything heh.

So we waited like turtles at T2's McDonald's. As usual, the brother never listens and got me the wrong order. Again. What's new. and mum began again on his bills because the idiot never learns. more like, the idiot is smart regarding this matter because its not important to him at 14-years-old. he gets whatever he wants and gets away with everything because hes the youngest. and he becomes complacent. and the family has inculcated in him the idea that I, the eldest daughter, cannot tell him whats right and wrong because I was never a brilliant person to begin with in their eyes. Right. So I did what I do best, generally speaking. That is, I threw shades at him the coldest way I knew how like the realest estranged eldest sibling featuring generation gap I could possibly muster. It worked, and I was so proud that he can keep his silence. I encouraged him to do the same at home when mum talked and he asked me to shut up. I rolled my eyes, letting him know that Ive proven my point that he never listens. not just to me, but in general. Period.

AND YES. THATS WHAT HAPPENED. My period came when we reached home yey Hehehehe

So Dad's plane's landed, finally, and we skedaddled over to the human collection point; waiting for him waiting for his luggage waiting to be sent over. Because Dad's the only coloured person in the flight, walking over to the human collection point (which is really just the exit gate) without being requested to declare his goods would have been one of the great miracles for the day/night. As predicted, and as usual as it has always been since twenty years ago, Dad gets stopped and he gets scanned and his stuff gets scanned and he's cleared and we applauded the effortlessness of things to make us wait another 5 minutes. As of my age at 24 years old, the total number of times Dad doesnt get stopped is less than half my quartered age. Go math!

It is also a ritual for us to cater to Dad's asian-malayan hunger the moment he touches down so we asked him where he'd like to go to fill his 6-hour meal-less flight. He never so much as give options though; it's always the same few places and it's a declaration. This time, because it's past 11PM, I suggested Kampung Glam/Bugis. There were some to and fro chatter and discussions — TL;DR digression — before he conceded with my choice. A familiar place, and familiar feeling for me. No longer were there faces that I knew. I mean, some were fleeting faces; people that I remember walking past or probably friend's friend's friend. Dad bought his food, everyone else got drinks, and we chilled for a bit.

Driving home, I will always be impressed with Dad's ability to maneuver through all the streets and roads like hes been there a million times. I would really like to be able to drive around easily without worry because I know the roads. I mean, I have been driving around without worry but thats because other people will fret over the roads for me. My mentality is that, given whatever the situation, something will always give and things will be alright again. There is never a need to worry. It's a.. some sort of spiritual thing too, which gets carried over into my personality and lifestyle. So, on the occasion that I do get lost, with or without friends on board, Im calm and collected and regard that moment as a roadtrip. I try to navigate to familiar places, while my mental tries to recall if it's a solid decision to head down a particular direction that gets us back home instead of further away lolol it's a gamble; something Im always willing to take because well you only live once!

Dad drove us home, and because he has his bags to carry, I was tasked with parking the car. One, because it's obviously top floor. that's 5 flights of stairs. Two, because I can drive and mum is an unreliable asset when it comes to driving. Three, because it will be fun if a cockroach approaches me to make friendship as Im walking down the carpark, running away from it in the rain. I will be the laughing stock of all the ghosts at midnight and I will insist on my cleansing ritual the moment I reach home. Funny.

So mum, being the guardian angel in disguise, waited for me and we hustled home because tired. Brother has been a real pain in the ass, I swear to you. I dont know how to talk to him without becoming like my mum so I have to obviously try harder. Even speaking to my parents, sometimes I feel the need to really become the wisest a child is allowed to be. Because there is a perimeter that a child can never overcome with their parents. It's not possible. You will always remain a kid in their eyes, you will always be the smaller entity in their lives that they need to protect. We will always be that perfect little few-kilograms worth of flesh and blood that is perfect at birth, who grew into such a chaotic mess just like them. Parents never want their kids to be failures; a possible reflection of their failures multiplied.

I think it's amazing, though, how one can make so much progress with failure. People look down so much on failure but I dont understand. I no longer fear failure. I dont think it's right to put down failure as a negative thing when it's the very thing that allows the space for growth, improvement. Look, perfection doesnt exist okay, because no one has been able to prove that it really exists. Perfection, I mean. The definition of "perfection", or even the "best" of anything, is different across different individuals. For me, these definitions are merely white lies. Necessary white lies. They are words of comfort and encouragement. Because as an individual, you can never be satisfied with yourself. You must always push to learn. Learn more, learn new things. To keep grasping at things that are alien to you, things you never dared to associate yourself with.

The thing with failure is that it becomes a bad thing when you stop there. When you let the failure define you. When that one moment of failure is allowed, by you, to taint the rest of the course of your life. That's the problem with failure that many struggle with. Across all ages, races, genders and universe, overcoming a failure is one of the most difficult things to do. Why? Because we are too bothered with our replies at the moment. We are too hooked up with moment. Because there was a certain level of expectation. Expectation that it will all go well. That people become narrow minded because of the expectation. That if that expectation falls through, there will be no way out. And that is something that needs to change. That is why Im always allowing space in my mind for a swift spontaneity to react to changes, and the small failure that comes with that is my complacency for the need of a schedule. I dont need it, because I only need to start something to get it going.

So, how to change? If people address you at that moment, stay quiet. Take in their comments and critiques, and think of ways to beat this the next time so no one has to suffer the same event again. If the change is you, then contemplate what is worth your identity, what is worth upholding when your name is on the line. If there is a need to break down, take as much time you need to get over it, to get over yourself. It is all part of the process, so there is no shame in that. Also, it is important to remember your roots, because honestly, that is the basis of how and where one should target/focus on with change.

It's my first lengthy post in a while because, hey, im so excited that school is ending and I cant wait to document more of my thoughts and daily episodes. Once in a while, blog posting is good. But there will always be more content that I decide to write down in my book journal instead so.. it's my balance. it's good. it's me. (:

Next update is to kinda recap my illness(es) towards the ending of this semester because as far as I am concerned, I am always falling ill two weeks after mid-terms. It lasts all the way until the end of the semester so.. yay. Identify, diagnose and counter!

Till next time¬

Labels: how fah rolls, long post, sharing stories

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when you believe, and you really believe, things will turn out well. they might even just work out exceptionally well too. all of it, because you believe. and tinkerbell was with you all night dealing with the pyroworks.

it's baybeats. baybeats people baybeats! out for two nights, stayed till late for one. i have tales to tell, and you have eyes in need to read. TEEHEE

last night's today was pure holy-crap-ima-do-this-shit-tonight day. i think it's been one of the best days in my life in the history of the-best-days-in-my-life. friday saw me meeting up with friends and getting used to the scene of wildcore local music. friday also saw me meeting another friend with dog hair lika monchichi. [yay accomplice!] friday also finally saw me praying, but for the last time this ramadhan because Bloody Mary visited me the next morning. [bummerrrrrr]. friday enlightened me to Pug Jelly being called The Dirt Radicals now. friday then saw me going home early.

that friday night, two hours to midnight, my bus expedition home was swift and fast. that friday night, whilst on the bus(es) home, i realized things i should've realized sooner. that friday night, i was innocent, unbroken, courageous, raw and beautifully careless.

raw and beautifully careless

that friday night, i was genuine and true again. that friday night, remy came back to life with a whole new meaning. then saturday came.

it's just those moments in life when you truly believe, and you know it, that you have to do this. so there you have me do things i had always intended to do.

but with only having ten bucks on yourself, what else can you do?

i met up with the bruh, shak the trex. i was late. two reasons: lisa gardner in bed did not let my eyes + brains settle down until 5PM, i had to clean after myself for the mess i'd accidentally made. ran for the head side of the train and grabbed the bro with an almost-done dreads piece for a head to enter the train. we helped shak's younger sis settle her video assignment.. something about a time lapse video. hey they preview shots of what the both of us took looked pretty good. i think with decent editing and shit it might just be pretty awesome ah. so then we were trying to chill very hard. because...

we were late. for Bear Culture.

if we hadnt had the running contest, we'd jolly well settled for the last song. even though i've only heard one song frm them before, i think valkyrie is the best bear culture track. (Y) tahirah saw us from the stage and she waved back our wave greeting. that moment sort of made me feel important cos it's like, my friend's the singer right there so you better dont mess with me or else ima haul her whole head full of pantene goodness down your goddamn throat. we heard 3 songs, and then we were... lost.

i was introduced to hannan, tahira's man. along the way there was ariel merman and marcus douche, who's a friendship-relative of shak's. met more people and im still trying to recall names. apparently, no one believes that i am an anti-socialist. so i had to take pride in people's trust, yknow. i started laughing like mad and they stared. but then they started laughing along because i looked dumb enough to be doted on. hahahaha so here, there was us trio: rafi shak and i. marcus douche met us later. the trio trudged along nowhere and began to get really hungry. tahira had to leave because she was very sick. but i really love her attitude, singing all the way despite it all and still sounding awesome. so anyhow, it rained and we waited for a bit and then we joined the other crew and headed for marina square. we were still deciding between burgerking and longjohns for two reasons — 1. the queues were long 2. shak's a vegan (but i didnt know he cant eat fish as well. now ive lost all understandings to the term vegetarian.) i didnt eat because i was too stingy with the much precious 10bucks that i had. if i need to replenish myself, all i need would be some 1.5 pokka green tea drink and a break. smoke break.

we decided burger king and then we ate. we is really actually just fifi. so then he ate and marcus douche came. he came looking lika threat. i sensed something... douchey about him bout i couldnt nail it down as to what exactly was my problem [trolololmfao] until much later. after eating, it really turns out my theory about marcus douche being a douche is just.. s'well. he's born a douchebag so i cant really blame him. but he could at least get shak his sub yknow.. that's all im gonna ask even after the night has ended. the poor vegan.. and he got thrashed by the douchebag.

just so you know, my (bad/good/ridiculous) habit is to identify with people through nicknames. so if i do call you anything but your birth-given names, it actually means ive connected with you and youre a precious sort of friend.. yknow.. at that kinda stage. so.. no offences okay. seriously. pussy people can piss off.

so marcus came and we shall flash forward to the headbanging to this music, headbanging to that music, trying to accept the various personas we see on the road. it was exceptionally crowded with metalheads and i was... i felt threatened. after bear culture, awesome awesome bear culture, was this other band called you and i collide. the dood on vocals.. he seriously reminded us of aiman. but they were good.. dood's good with his band like that. i think it was after their performance that we left for dinner. because i really cant remember what we did to have skipped philippine band moscow olympic's gig. all i remember was us trudging to the back near the tree and settled down. and then somehow, we were all waiting for ryhan and buddhistson to play. and then we were all talking about going to clubs cos we had lobangs for guestlists. and there i was wearing my slippers.. not wiling to take part at all because i dont club. cos clubbing means dancing. i dont dance. i observe people. but i still have fun. -..-

but they insisted so badly so i was really reluctant to give in. and then they were saying how theres a macbeth booth there and i should get myself a pair of shoes because my initial plan to go to cotton on and buy them cheap shoes didnt turn out well. buddhistson's gig ended at 10:30PM (not to mention with their encore!) so it's official that the shops are all closed. they made me buy the shoe.. and i had a fifty note for emergency stuffed somewhere of high level secrecy that if i let loose it's location, i will never have to worry about being a virgin again. -..-
because i wanted to save up on my money for more important things than getting a macbeth shoe, say like the #ubincan trip and uss trip, i was really intending to get the cheapest shoe. it was 30bucks, and it had a glittery thing going on at the side. in short, it was an uber girly shoe i cannot tank to wear. ever. but it was the cheapest.. so i had to.. decide..

until i saw that pretty grey shoe! and it's worth 70bucks! so i had to use up my money, and get some more money from my bros. so it turns out, shak wants to sponsor twenty bucks for the shoe in lieu of a belated birthday present. awwww~ and then marcus douche was being all douchey because he hasnt got the time to wait and he needs to go to club now. so they got me that macbeth shoe one size too big. thank god it was a slim fit cut.. it wasnt that bad.

i forgot what time we reached home, but i was so glad we did. all i can remember was a bitter taste in my mouth, and a certain bitterness in my heart. i think im forcing myself not to remember what had happened, cos marcus is such a hateful person -..-

Labels: boys, epik, f*ckyeah, happy, long post

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