Let him be

Let him be to me a message, a song, a book, but let him not be a memory, that float like a spirit to where my pensive thoughts dwell and where my heart dictates. Let him not be a memory that roves and finds my heart and stirs it to its long-forgotten heat. Let him be to me instead the air I breathe, a necessity designed to sustain life, the living wage I pay to roam the grounds of this world, then I would learn to let it be, this proclivity. Let him not be to me a memory that creeps into my deepest solitudes and stole my glance from the eternal fare, and deepens my murmurs that sprung from despair. Let him be a name in a slumbered reminisce, and not on my trembling lips. Let him be to me anything but a memory.

Listening to For Lovers, by Baby Shambles

And you did it anyway

Looking As You Are By Embrace

I told the Devil and the deep blue sea to hide
I thought that you were after them
I was right
But it's a picture I'll always keep in mind
Where you say I've never been even liked
For anything truly mine

And you did it - looking as you are
Looking as you are

Love enters, and leaves you through your eyes
You threw away the only thing that I like
And ought tell ya, that things will be alright
It never really seems that way, late at night

When you did it looking as you are
Looking as you are

Now I know, that the world's not waiting for you, nor for me
Now I know that the world gets heavy, will change?

'Cause you did it looking as you are
looking as you are

Now you're gone, I stand on my own

--------


I am begining today's blog entry with a song. Usually, it is at the end. For a change, I thought. The song set the tone today. I want to capture the mood so that I will remember. For a nostalgic person, it is important.

Finally, I managed to end on time and reached home by 7pm. I have been working, sacrificing almost everything else so that I can get good stories done. I had a few top play already. Today, another one. Great. But I hardly know my colleagues, even though they had been friendly. The colleague sitting in front of me now rarely talks to me, because I made that so, by giving him cold shoulders. I don't know what my friends or what they are doing. Called a few intimate friends today. They are not reachable. Actions have consequences. I am reaping what I sow. Now finally, I want company. But I can't find them. I had a terrible night last night. I wanted to erase that memory. So being with a group of nice people whom I know love me would be good. Today it is a rude shock to me that I probably have nobody. A couple of months back, it was glad it was that way, nothing to take away my reporting time. Striking a balance is an art. I know not that art. Then He sent a kind soul to salvage a social inert like me so that I won't have to stay at home feeling like an idiot.

------------

Chapter 2: Here with you, here without you

The Flame of the Forest was in full bloom and the whole tree looked like it was on fire. It was the first thing that Elizabeth noticed when she looked out of her bedroom window. She loved it when it was the flowering season for her Flame Tree, when her tree was covered with scarlett flowers that could have been a million to her. When the wind blew and the leaves rustled, her flame tree shook, a few scarlett flowers fell, as if her tree had coughed out those flowers because it was choked full of them. Her room, she thought, had a kick-ass view. She laughed, covered her mouth and threw her head backwards. She was often a sight of a young and innocent girl, brimming with a potential that she would one day break into something, a sight that would often left many anxiously wondering what kind of a woman she would bloosom into. What that something would be, they wished they could know, just so that their curiosity could be satisfied.

“Look Ophelia! The tree is in flames – in fire-red flames!” She turned to Ophelia’s bed. It was neatly made. The new bed cover was without a crease, as if no one had slept on it before.

She must have gone down for breakfast already. She is early. Opps…better hurry. I don’t want to be late for school today, not today!

Elizabeth smiled and she felt something in her stomach did a little somersault. Something was going to happen that day, she felt it in the air, somehow.

Mrs Wong shut the car door after Elizabeth and Ophelia had gotten into the car. She waved to them, took a look at Ophelia. She smiled. A wave of warmth surged and enveloped her heart, making her feel relieved of a strange self-imposed anxiousness of wanting to reverse Ophelia’s fate or make it better as quickly as possible, whichever she could do first. She was conscious of the lightness she had been feeling the last few days as she watched Ophelia seated quietly at the back of car, looking settled, looking like she had found all the little pieces that were missing that would be holding a perfect picture together. Elizabeth sat beside Ophelia, looking like a pair of daughters of her own blood. Maybe she was too anxious for things to be fixed as quickly as possible, whatever that was broken, that she had played all this up in her mind by her wishful thinking, or this could be a very realistic picture, not dreamed up in her head. She didn’t know. She looked at Ophelia smiling. She smiled again. If she could know, she thought.

Mr. Wong looked at Ophelia’s reflection in the rear mirror. There was a hint of resentment and a hint of resignation he saw in her that were fading away and those were the last traces waiting to go as well. She looked like a strong girl, held together by an unfathomable depth of determination hidden under her quiet appearance. She was taking in such difficult circumstances with much graciousness, uncommonly found even among the wisest adults, he thought. Like someone had given him a nudge, he stopped his thoughts. He could continue to analyze her and know nothing about her or he could get to know her in the most traditional way, through conversations, for her sake, for his wife’s sake and maybe even for his sake. If he knew how, if he could know, he thought.

Blog - plotting my path

I am glad I started this blog or a blog. Every time I got a chance, i would rush home and stay at home and not go anywhere. I am a hermit, a loner, whatever you want to call me. I prefer to spend my nights like this, listing to my MP3, reading and writing. Today, I left work at 6:30pm. There is no conference call tonight. I wrote an entry and decided to read all my past entries. Things I had forgotten, memories were refreshed. This blog served the purpose I set out for it, to help me plot the path I walked, to help me remember. Remembering helps keep me on the path. For different periods in the past one year, I have different favourite entries. It used to be "Death could be an eternity", then it was the entry about my jog in the botanical garden, for the last one or two months and maybe for now, it is "If I could".

The things I did, I know why I did them. But I probably won't be able to understand them fully. I had written a few entries and deleted them the very next morning. I wished I had kept them. If I want to remember, I need to be honest and I need to be brave. After all, at the end of it all, nothing really matters. I need to have a capacity to contain everything that my life presents - the unhappy times, the agonizing moments when I thought my brain was going to burst thinking. I should present my life here the way I had lived it, however badly.

Because I reread my entries, I took out the two short stories I wrote and reread them. There were entries about the stwo stories. Between the two, I liked Gravity better about a few months ago. But now I like Ophelia better. Plot is better. The story flows better. There is drama and some suspense. I also remember I wanted to write. Why not? What have I been busy with? Finish Ophelia, a voice urged me. And I think I have to change the title. I will post here chapter by chapter. I will keep going. Maybe. At least these are my thoughts for now.

Listening to Come Back Down by Lifehouse.



Chapter One: The beginning of something

Elizabeth noticed her dress the moment she walked into the house. It was bright pink - a shade that was unfashionable for a teenager. There was also something odd about her. She did not look local – she had dark skin, not tanned but dark. Her small frame came with long, scrawny limbs. Her more attractive features were her long, black hair and her eyes were large and expressive. Oddly, at a closer look, her eyes revealed a look that could only belong to someone who had weathered years of trials and tribulations. She was only seventeen, but on her, no trace of youthfulness could be found. The red flower brooch which she pinned to her dress slightly above her left breast only added years to her looks.

The girl moved behind the woman who accompanied her to the house, hiding herself behind woman as if she was aware of Elizabeth’s thoughts. She was half hidden from Elizabeth. But the woman wasn’t large enough to cover the whole of her.

Elizabeth gave herself a mental kick. She realized that she had unwittingly made the girl feel like a misfit. The girl lost her parents in a car accident a month ago. Her new status as an orphan would probably make her feel like one already without her adding to it, Elizabeth thought to herself.

Elizabeth smiled as sincerely as possible to ease the girl’s discomfort. Before she could speak, the woman asked impatiently, “You must be Elizabeth, Mr and Mrs Wong’s only daughter. Where is your mother?”

“Ermm…She is…,” Elizabeth said.

“I thought you are going to arrive later,” a cheerful female voice was heard from the staircase.

“Oh, hi, Mrs Wong, it is so good to see you again.” That woman broke into a bright smile.

Elizabeth stared at the woman in disbelief. It was the sort of friendly demeanor that she wouldn’t expect from the woman, who just a minute ago, had spoken to her harshly.

Mrs Wong walked from the staircase and put her arms around Elizabeth while extending the other hand for a handshake with the woman. The other girl in the pink dress was still standing behind the woman.

“It’s very good to see you too,” Mrs Wong said cheerfully. “Do they know each other already?” Mrs Wong asked, looking at Elizabeth and the girl.

“Oh no no….Mrs Wong…..hahaha…..we just arrived”

“Ophelia, this is Elizabeth. Elizabeth, Ophelia is a lovely girl and I’m sure you girls are going to have loads of fun together, discussing fashion and boys, ah….yes……boys…hahaha……kids grow up a lot faster these days, wouldn’t you say so, Mrs Wong….and….?” The woman stopped and let her voice trailed off.

She had become conscious of her role as a counselor for the government-funded welfare organization for juvenile delinquents and teenaged orphans. Her statement about “fashion and boys” seemed inappropriate, she thought, and might suggest that she took the position that obsession with fashion and boys among teenaged girls, though common, was to be encouraged.

“Ermm…..still as parents, we have to give proper guidance in this area …..relationship issues are complex for teenagers….they are just not equipped to handle them without us…..hahaha…But Mrs Wong, I am sure you are doing fine as a parent……Your girl seems pretty well-behaved. ”

“I have a lot to learn as a parent,” Mrs Wong smiled gently and said.

“We call her Lizzie and you can do that too, Ophelia.” Mrs Wong said, turning to look at Ophelia. She froze. She saw the look in Ophelia’s eyes. It was the same despondent look that Ophelia’s mother had before she died. The image of Ophelia’s mother at her death bed came back to her. On a bed in a brightly lit hospital room, Ophelia’s mother laid there with the same look of helplessness because she knew that in a moment to pass, she would have to leave Ophelia behind - there would be no one there for her.

Elizabeth watched her mother lost in her thoughts, looking at Ophelia. There was an unfamiliar anger simmering inside her or was that anger? Elizabeth thought to herself.

Talk about Fashion with Ophelia? I certainly wouldn’t discuss fashion with her if her fashion idea is to adorn herself with a bright pink dress and a red brooch…..and sorry…what’s her name…Ophelia???? What’s with that name? I hope her taste in boys doesn’t revolve around some vindictive insane guy whose favorite pastime is talking to some apparitions and ….

Elizabeth stopped herself and those thoughts, especially unkind ones towards someone who had lost her parents.

“I am sixteen, turning seventeen this year. Are you attending college?” Guilt-stricken, Elizabeth tried to redeem herself by attempting at conservations with Ophelia.

“Yes, I am. Eastside Junior College.” Her voice was deep and low, one which should have belonged to someone much older, Elizabeth thought.

“Ophelia will be transferred to your school, Lizzie,” Mom said. “I have spoken to Principal Tan and he has agreed. So Lizzie, you would show Ophelia around and introduce your friends to her?”

“Totally! It will be so cool, attending the same school together. Connie and the rest will be thrilled to meet her.” Elizabeth said, faking the excitement in her voice.

“Mrs Wong, thank you for taking me in.” Ophelia said.

“Ophelia, it is Mom or Mommy, not Mrs Wong,” Mrs Wong said and smiled.

“Hey, Ophelia, would you like to see your room?” Elizabeth said. She bent down and picked up Ophelia’s luggage. “Let me help you with this.”

“Upstairs, Ophelia. We will be sharing room. I packed my errr…our room the whole morning. Your bed, table and chair arrived yesterday. You’re gonna love the room.”

“Mrs Wong…I am sure they will get along fine.” The counselor said to Mrs Wong as she watched the two girls make their ways upstairs.

“Mrs Wong…can I have a word with you in private. I have a few more documents for you to sign for the adoption.”

Friends are forever

Once upon a time, there lived an evil girl. She is still living and she is still evil.

She decided to call a long-lost friend in Hong Kong because she kinda ‘missed’ him.

``Hello. How are you Mr. C.’’

``I am doing well. Thank you.’’ He sounded polite. ‘And how are you?’’

``I am great. Really good. Thank you.’’ She maintained a polite tone to match his.

``Who is this?’’

``I am D.’’

``Oiiii….you huh?!! Why you scare me like that? Ask my operator to announce my name. Ok, what can I do for you?’’

``I owe you lunch for this. Really. You covered……..Can you ……’’ The evil girl D wanted something only he could help. She had not been in touch with her friend for at least a year.

``huh? Call me up to ask this. Walau…I don’t remember lar. So long ago already.’’

``you can remember, just try!!!! THINK!!!!’’ The evil girl was just plain evil.

``I think it is ….’’

``Thank you. See. I said you can remember.’’ The evil girl thought the world owed her a living, including friend, which by common social definition, shouldn’t really be called her friend.

Mr. C knew she was evil. Mr. C knew she’s making use of him. He held his cool because life, as all know, is not perfect.

``When are you coming back to Singapore?’’

``This sat.’’

``Really? Want to meet up?’’

``Sure.’’

``How come you didn’t call me? What kind of a friend are you? I have been waiting for you to come back. You can’t even call. What’s wrong with you? Don’t know how to pick up the phone, izzit??...You SSJDHGSDSKJSD’’ The evil girl verbally abused him.

``Err…..,’’ the verbally abused Mr C. said. ``You want to meet up because you want to ask me more questions for your stories.’’

The evil girl’s conscience was pricked. She was slightly guilty but she didn’t stay that way for too long. Her evil nature took control.

``I promised not to ask you any more questions. No work-related stuff, I promised.’’ She said.

``Yes, but you would feed me with two flaming Lamborghinis and get me to answer those questions you have.’’

``What? I would never do that.’’ The evil knew she was lying. But because she was evil, she couldn’t help herself.

The last time she had Lamborghinis with Mr. C, Mr. C was left sleeping by a drain. The evil girl was not remorseful, because she was evil. She was not the one sleeping by a drain.

``I am going to MOS when I’m back in Singapore.’’

``Huh? Why you never call me? I want to go.’’

There was a long pause.

``D, I am really worried for you. I don’t understand you.’’

``I am cyclical. If you didn’t call me for MOS, you will DIE!’’

``Ok.’’ Mr. C sounded confused.

``Listen, you will really DIE!’’

The evil girl put down the phone. She’d live happily ever after.

Need no introduction

I was at a wedding the other day, was an hour late. I am a terrible friend, I know. I arrived shabbily dressed. I had wanted to go back to change first, but couldn't make it on time to go home. My life's a mess at the moment, too many errands to run, so many to do things on my list, which is getting longer. I am always saying sorry for not meeting my commitments for not replying to SMSes. All these have got to stop.

At the wedding, a friend waved his hand and motioned to me for me to go over to his side. At that time, I was talking to a lady. (which means I had to leave her alone to walk over to him. Among my friends are some rude people. I am not that discerning with my choice of friends. Anyone goes.)

''Let me introduce you to....'' He said.

''NOOOOO....DON"T DO THAT.'' I said, cutting him off. I was trained. I sensed danger. He said that besides his wife and two other guys whom I bearly knew

''Why? You already have one?" He said.

''No?!" I frowned. (just because I am single doesn't mean I want to be introduced.)

"Then why not?'' He asked.

''Because I don't want.''

"Why not?!!!!'' He asked.

''Aiya...no need to introduce la. Why don't you eat your food?'' I said, irritated.

''He is a shy guy.'' He said.

''huh? shy?! You think I would be compatible with someone who is shy? you mad, izzit? why would I want to go out someone who is shy? Let him remain shy in one corner lar. why you want to disrupt his life for?''

''Just friends what?'' He said.

''Friends? You don't think I have too many.I don't need friends.''

''It is better to be introduced. At least got character reference. better than you picking up guys from the pubs.'' He said.

I almost choked. By that time, the two guys whom I was not familiar with left the conversation. (wise move, I want to go too. and hello, i don't pick up guys from pubs, I pick up drinks at the bar counter at worst. And I think now I could do with two lagers, one rob roy, one g&t, and a waterfall to top it all up. and what character reference? oh you mean shy? what kind of a character reference is that? shy?! next!)

Today, I met a long lost friend. I mean it - long lost. She was so thrilled. The first thing she said, "So many things have changed? I am a mother of two. How about you?''

"I am not pregnant.'' (of course I know that, that is my latest. just did a test recently.)

''Oh, you seeing anyone?''

"No.''

"WHY?'' She asked. (ok, no need to shout, because i am a freak?! )

''err....I don't know.''

''WHY?''

''I really don't know.'' (because all the singles available now are shy? how I know? maybe I should start asking myself that.)

''are you still driving your black bmw?'' I asked.

''no lar. I sold that. I am now drive an auntie car.''

''Ok, like a SUV?''

''ya..hahhhaaa....hey, where are you going later?''

"going to do my pedi and mani.''

"oh you should take this chance to enjoy yourself. you won't have time in the future. when you have kids.'' (ok that's it. you will remain my long lost friend after this. what makes you think that this is a temporary arrangement that I am putting with? My ultimate goal in life is to trade my bmw(which I don't have one) for a SUV and have two kids. I need two lagers, one g&T, one rob roy and a waterfall!)

''We should have dinner. I am so busy with my kids. Only weekdays ok.''

Suddenly I had an inspiration. I will only meet my friends during weekends. You can't always expect the singles to compromise. We also very busy people....we...eeeerrrrrr....have to write blogs on weekday nights.

''Oh, it is really alright. I know how moms can be really busy. Don't try to fit me in. You should spend all your time with your kids. I know how married life is like, you know. Don't feel bad. I understand.'' (I am such a bxxxx)

Repentance happened sometimes in an instance.

"Of course, would love to have dinner with you. weekdays are fine.'' I said and I guessed I meant it.

What happened yesterday seem too near, and what would happen tommorrow seem too far.

We'll see. Maybe we'll meet for dinner.

Don't look at my body

I had some time at home for the past few days, thanks to incompetent doctors, thanks to whatever infection that hit me. Reading would send my head reeling. So, I took my TV remote and started to surf. I checked out all the Taiwanese TV channels. For some reasons, I missed Taipei.

"Bu Yao kan wo de ji rou, ti wo de ge.'' He pleaded before his MTV was played. Because of his plead, I couldn't help but checking out his "ji rou" throughout the whole MTV. The MTV was very grainy and he was wearing a long-sleeved sweater. I couldn't quite checked out his "ji rou." I wondered why most MTVs are grainy.

So why did he asked me not to look at 'ji rou'. Now he really got me interested in his 'ji rou' And what song was that? I couldn't remember, only the grainy MTV and how he is kinda cute and how he potentially could have a great bod.

I remembered a theory I had formed when I was in JC and generously shared with my classmates. A guy with a nice voice usually doesn't come with looks.

Really. The theory still holds after so many years. The "ji rou" singer can't really sing. A guy I interviewed a couple of weeks back had a very nice voice on the phone. I met him today. That theory, I would say, is a good theory.

Blood Test

Everything went smoothly today. Everything went a little too smoothly that I was a little suspicious. All the stories I want to file, I was able to have them written. Everyone I called seemed to be agreeable to talk to me. Someone whom I have been trying to reach for two days last week picked up my call. I could leave the office on time, without feeling that I have not accomplished anything. How strange. Maybe I am getting some cosmic sympathy for being bedridden for the past few days - four days to be exact.

It was last Wednesday. The four screens in front of me were making my head spin. Each time I asked a question on the phone, I had to take a deep breath to keep me awake. I held my pen tightly, afraid that if I losen my grip, I might actually pass out. Was BB+ investment grade? I couldn't remember. The noise in the office was fading and getting further away from me, isolating me and my work station from the rest of people. For a while I thought I was alone. My breathing was louder than usual. Maybe I was alone. But I could see them distinctly around me. I just couldn't hear them. My head was spinning, hurting my vision. When the words on my screens start to swim, I closed my eyes. Maybe some food would be good. I got up and used whatever energy I had left to get myself a plate of rice and a cup of hot tea from a food stall across my work place. I took two mouthfuls while sitting beside a trash bin by the roadside. Suddenly, it started to pour. There was a loud shuffling noise of people moving. My rice was then wet with rain. I was also wet. I gave up.

"I think you may have dengue." A young female doctor said.

"Huh? What?''

"Oh, I am not saying you have. But the symptoms are very smiliar. Your body is fighting a virus, leaving you weak. Your lymph nodes are swollen.''

"Ok. Are you going to give me some antibiotics then?''

"No. I don't know what kind of infection you have. You should get some vitamin C.''

"What? you are going to leave my body to fight the battle on its own.''

"yes. i have no choice. I don't how to prescribe when i don't know what you are down with."

"Ok, thanks.''

Thursday, I went back to work but I couldn't even sit in front of my screens for an hour. I got up and left.

"Can I do a blood test?"

"Why?'' a nurse at the hospital asked.

"I may have dengue. I am feeling feverish and giddy and extremely weak. I couldn't dialed a number on my phone. I can't asked a question properly.''

"huh?...err....I don't think you have dengue. are you pregnant?"

"No. I am not."

"you sure not.''

"yes. very sure.''

"Hmmm.....see the doctor first.''

(ooooiii you...)

An hour later,

"Is it possible that you are pregnant?'' a doctor asked, while drawing some blood from the fold of my arm.

"No."

"Ok, come back one hour later. your test will be ready.''

An hour later,

"your blood test result is very good. No infection of any sorts. You are healthy. Just very tired. I guess.''

"Why would I be exhausted when I didn't work on Tuesday.''

"I don't know. You're fine. The test results say so. Just go home and rest. you will feel better tommorrow.''

In the evening, I was still feeling really unwell. I decided to go back to the hospital. Afterall, it was only across the street.

"hi, sorry to keep your waiting.'' It was a different doctor. The doctor in the morning had left.

"I know my blood test says I am ok. But I can't be feeling this giddy and weak that I couldn't do anything. Something is wrong. It is not just because I am exhausted like what the doctor said earlier.''

"Do you think you could be pregnant?"

"No. It is not possible.''

"Can you take another test?''

Minutes later....

"I know what is wrong with you. It is an infection. I know how to treat you.''

"Oh really? yes!!!"

"I will give you some antibiotics. And I know you said it is impossible that you are pregnant. But I tested you for pregnancy.''

"Huh? what???'' I didn't know what to think. It was just very strange that she didn't trust me. Can a doctor test me like that without my permission.

"I know.I know. I am a gynae. I don't know what else I can do for you.''

(what? you think you are doing me a favour? you are so funny? why don't you just trust what I say without wasting a piece of plastic. You are only contributing to the fat profits of the polyethene makers. You better not charge me for the test. I don't know how to charge it to my company or explain to my company why I should be taking a pregnancy test. I am not a kid. why don't you just trust what I say. why would I want to lie to you?)

I stared at her in bewilderment. I blinked a few times.

She laughed and said, "I know. I know.''

(huh? you know what? you don't know. that's why you took the test. you are very funny lei.)

"I know. hahhaa..." She said.

Very funny mei?

"You said you are feeling giddy and weak, symptoms of a pregnancy.''

(while, the doctor yesterday said they were symptoms of a dengue fever. where did you guys get training from? why do you all bully me like that?)

"I know this is a gynae hospital. i am only here because I live across the street. This is the closest hospital to me.'' I said.

"Then you should come here everyday." The nurse chimed in and laughed.

I frowned. (that is a really bad joke. Why do I want to come here in everyday? you guys are mad. you had waited for three hours for this stupid joke. Sigh.....)

After an hour of waiting for my bill, a nurse motioned to me.

"Ms Kee, can I speak to you in private?"

"err...ok...''

"Ok, next time, you should go to a general practice hospital and not to a gynae hosipital. I don't know how to process your bill. I have to write a report tommorrow. I have to answer for this, allowing you to come back again without charging you consultation fee the second time. it is ok. never mind. I can write a report. The problem wasn't solved earlier and you came back.''

"Huh?...ok.'' (well...you know....maybe I am pregnant.)

"You shouldn't come here. You should go to other hospital. Our system is like that. Won't allow us to take in general practice cases. Each time.......'' She was going on and on. I was sick, remember, that was why I came here? I frowned at her. She looked really upset, almost in tears.

''Ok, I won't. I am sorry.'' (I had to apologise, really. She was looking really upset that I had to apologise. I wondered why later. Why should I apologise? I can't figure.)

(Firstly, if someone should complain. I should. The doctor in the morning shift read my blood test result inaccurately. I was infected and needed antibiotics. It was in that test result as the doctor in the evening shift pointed out. Then a nurse came along and made me feel indignified for having to write a one-paged report on my account why she should waive consultation fee for my second visit even when i didn't ask her to or demanded that she should. The nurse made a sick person who was suffering giddiness stand for 10 mins to listen to how she had to write a one-paged report the next day. What did I get from this whole thing? Oh yes, a free pregnancy test. thank you. huh? why? I must be really stupid because I don't really get this. Maybe the world should function this way. I am just an odd ball in this system.)

Let me evaluate this whole thing for a while and do that litmus test - What would JC do if he were in my shoes?
- would he say thank you and offer to pay for the pregnancy test?
- would he apologise to the nurse even though it was not his fault?
- would he lodge a complaint report and let the hospital know the flaws in the system so that they can change?
- would he recommend that the doctor in the morning shift get more training?
- would he just let things past and let the inefficiencies sink in and let wrong diagnoses happen again in the future because addressing the issues would make him seem like a bad guy? Afterall, he is all nice and merciful and I should be.
- would he ask the nurse who has to write a one-paged report to go get a pregnancy test because he thinks she should get something free as she seems really upset. Free stuff always make a singaporean very happy.

I don't know whether it was the infection that had me bedridden for the past four days or the realisation that the people I met function quite differently from me, think quite differently from me that had me not wanting to see anyone for the past four days.

But today is a refreshing change. No strange people. No strange test. No strange women telling me that they had done me a great favour even though I really didn't need one.

Forgiveness

I received X's messages several times. But I chose to ignore. Even my friends didn't dare to mention X's name to me. One or two brave souls have broached the subject hoping that they would be able to reconcile us. Even N knows that it is a fruitless effort after a few backlash.

When it comes to friendships, why are 'clean' cuts not acceptable? When a friend break up with her boyfriend, I don't ask her to go have tea with him or do you?

"I have forgiven X." I said.

"That is not forgiveness," N said.

"I don't hate X. I just don't want to talk to X." I said.

"Then that really is not forgiveness." N said.

"It is. I don't have to talk to the person or receive the person's phone calls. The friendship is spoiled. I don't have to go salvage it or turn it back to where it was previously. I can choose not to talk to the person. Why is that not forgiveness?"

"It is not la...." N said.

"WHY? I know there is a lion in a den. Do I run? Or I should feed myself to the lion?"

"I think you need to pray about it."

"WHY??? That friendship is wearing me out. Why can't I cut myself from it?"

So I am not replying to those messages.