Dear Journal

Today I realized that I'm an idiot. I realized that I don't have enough self esteem. I hate myself in every way possible. I don't take enough time to appreciate myself, even though I'm supposed to *rolls eyes* I realized that I'm not as strong as I thought I was. I also realized that I get too involved in things that I really should know better than to dive right in to.

This is my shortest journal entry, seeing as I've not written for six months.

bwek :P

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Hehe, I just had to ^_^

Long time no see.

Would a simple, "I miss you" suffice? I don't know anymore. I do miss you, no doubt, but it's like I just don't care anymore. =\ That's what I don't get. I promised I'd not stop caring, and I havent stopped, I just...I guess you could say the passion with which I cared in the beginning isn't there anymore? That's a lie, to an extent. =\ Whenever I get to talk to you I keep remembering just what it is that makes me care about you so much. Out of sight, out of mind... =| But, how long until I stop caring outright? Don't make me break a promise, to you, too, of all people. I couldn't forgive myself if I did that even if you no longer remember. That I can live with. I've been promised too many things, been told too many things, had people say so much to me, only to have been disappointed and let down in the end. I'm used to that, it hurts the same every time it happens, and it makes me feel like a bigger fool each time it happens, because I keep thinking I should be used to it and that I should be able to see it coming from a distance, but it still happens. Back to the point. I don't care if you have a life now, if you've got stuff to do, if I'm no longer important to you, just don't disappear. If you vanish, I'll be going back on my word without even knowing it, and that is the one thing that'd make me hate you for eternity. Speaking of which, does that even matter to you? I know you'd say something like, "Do you think I give a crap as to whether you love or hate me?" just to crush me, just to abuse the knowledge that I do care about what you think, but be honest, please; do you still care?

If I didn't make it clear enough, here it is in simple English. I miss you. I miss talking to you. I miss confiding in you. I hate that I am unable to do it anymore, but I suppose this is what happens. I hate that I care so much, I hate that I feel like a puppet, and I hate that I have to say it all like this. I hate that I cant be cryptic, I hate that you're not psychic, that you cant read my mind (which, in other instances, would have been a horrendous thing), that you appear to no longer care, that you have such control over me. The thing I hate most is that I know all of this, and I feel like there's nothing I can do about it. Having power over someone is something I despise. I hate knowing that anything I do will have an impact on someone else, that it'll hurt someone else. I hate the fact that you, of all people, have this leverage over me.

The polls have been rigged, I tell you!

I kid you not, those damn polls were rigged! The consensus could NOT have favored her over the person I had in mind! What exactly am I raving on about? See, there was this online vote/rank-thing. It ranked the top fifty Victoria's Secret models. Check it out for yourself.

http://www.popcrunch.com/the-50-hottest-victorias-secret-models-of-all-time/

What appalled me was the absurdity of the rankings. Firstly, Heidi Klum is hot, don't get me wrong, even for an old(er) angel, she's drop dead gorgeous. Thing is, SHE ISN'T THE HOTTEST OF THE LOT!! Giselle, Miranda, Alessandra, Adriana, Karolina and Bar are ALL hotter than she is! I'm not hatin', if I was, I'd have hated on them all simultaneously, not just the one model...make sense? I hope so...I was just very upset at how Miranda didn't make the top ten. My being biased towards her is clearly an understatement, but just look at the girl! She's a perfect doll. Plus she gets bonus brownie points for hooking up with Orlando Bloom. Or is it the other way 'round? Uhm....kay, I take that back. HE gets the brownie points for managing to score a girl like her.

The VS angels were supposed to be at their Herald Square shop that Tuesday and were letting hideous mortals take pictures with them. For a fee. You buy one of their wonderbras (I think that's what they're called, or I just had Wonder Girls stuck in my head) and they have a photographer take your pic with them. Not a problem, what's a girl without an abundant supply of bras? Only issue was the price. VS is notorious for having obscenely expensive bras. These ones in particular cost $40-$50. The Angels are worth it, but I was feeling somewhat miserly that day. Besides, I got to see Ms. Alessandra Ambrosio on my way out. Those photos of her? They don't do the woman justice. She is even more beautiful in person. She's just not photogenic like that, which goes to show just how gorgeous she is.

For the love of coffee

I just realized something. I cant write every day. It kills me, if not me, the person, then me, the writer. What’s worse is that one Akash Arasu can blog at least thrice daily, and that makes me want to write just as much, if not more. Consider this my attempt to be a frequent but shallow writer. (disclaimer: no intent to insult)

What would you do for a cup of coffee? Apologies, I phrased that wrong. Rather, how would you react if you craved something really badly but didn’t get it? For the most trivial of things, too. For example, said cup of coffee. The whole family went to the mall just two days ago to do some shopping, and I tagged along to run a quick errand and stopped by Starbucks to order my regular.

Me: *standing in line*

Phone rings.

Me: Hello?

Mum: Oishee? Is that you?

Me: No, it’s not.

Mum: Isshhhhh where did I go wrong with you? Why’d you lie?

Me: Why’d you ask if it was me on the other end? Were you expecting someone else to pick up MY phone? More importantly, how could you even question the authenticity of my voice? Do you not recognize your own daughter? *mock tone of shock*

Mum, having chosen to ignore me: You’re in line to get some coffee, arent you? Get a cup for your cousin.

Me, *dismayed*: But, what does he want? How do you know he’ll like what I get him? No one likes what I get. He wont either.

Mum: It doesn’t matter, just get him something good, then. It wont be fair if you show up with a coffee and he doesn’t get anything.

___________________

Nothing ruins my mood when I’m getting a drink from Starbucks. N.O.T.H.I.N.G.

That was before mother ruined my coffee gathering escapades.

Cute Asian Barista: Next in line? Hi! How are you?

Me: I’m good, and you? *gives him a smile* Could I get one venti cinnamon dolce frap without the whipped cream and one venti caramel frap?

Barista: Sure. *gets two venti cups out and starts labeling them* That’ll be $11.12.

*checks cash* Me: Errhh, actually, could you make them grandes instead?

Barista: Sure, not a problem. *takes the cups back, gets two smaller cups out and labels them* That’s $10.42.

Me: *epik sigh* I’m sorry, don’t have enough. Could you make it just the caramel frap?

Him: Of course. So...*gets the cup that was supposed to be mine back and places it back on the stack*...that’s $4.23 (not once did he sound aggravated or annoyed. He even smiled and thanked me as he gave me my change, bless him).

I didn’t get my cinnamon frap. =’[ I was ready to cry myself a river right there, only my best friends know just how much my fraps mean to me.

___________________

So up the escalator I went, with a storm cloud over my head. Found everyone at Footlocker, checking out shoes. Mum saw me with only one cup and being the person she is, she thought I was being my greedy self.

Mum: Why didn’t you get anything for him?!

Me: What makes you think I drink the caramel frap? This is for him. I didn’t have enough to get my drink. *puts on best indifferent face and hands cousin his drink* Rayeed, this is for you.

He and my aunt were walking ahead of us while my mum demanded to know what happened.

Me: Well, see, I didn’t have enough money to get both of us drinks, as you so wanted. I decided to be the bigger person and got him something instead of getting anything for myself, does that suffice?

Mum, *fishing in her purse to give me some cash*: Well, here. *hands over a $20* Get yourself whatever it is you wanted.

Me: No, thank you. I already gave that boy enough trouble. I’m not about to go back there and show my face again. -.-”

Mum: But here! I didn’t know you wouldn’t have enough cash, get your drink!

Me: Didn’t you hear me the first time? I gave him enough grief, and even if he doesn’t think it’s anything, I do. I’m not about to go back there, I have a huge ego, I got it from you. I’m surprised you haven’t noticed. He had to change my order twice.

Mum: It didn’t occur to me that you wouldn’t have enough money, I’m sorry. I just thought that he’d feel left out if you didn’t get anything for him.

Me: So why don’t you ever feel that way when I get coffee but never bring back anything for them? *gestures at my brothers* It’s not like Starbucks is a mile’s walk away, it’s just one floor below, if he wanted anything he could get it himself. He might be new here but he’s not stupid, he’ll be able to find his way around a shopping mall.

___________________

I didn’t get my coffee. T_T I thought maybe some sushi from the food court would cheer me up. When all else fails, I turn to raw fish. Alas, Sarku’s was closed for the night! =’[ No sushi for me, either.

From me, to you.

Wait. Don't hit pause, or mute the sound. This is a Korean song. It does have cheesy, corny, and other gastronomic lyrics, but it's Korean. I'm not a fan of the spoken language, Arabic and Japanese are more soothing to the ears: more fluid; the words roll right off the tip of your tongue and flow together so perfectly. Almost like an uninterrupted train of thought — completely aurally contrasting words have a way of becoming so cohesive. Korean, on the other hand, is abrupt. Words cannot describe the effect I'm looking for, but anyone who shares my opinion will know what I mean.

There are some phrases I like. I love how Koreans say "I love you"; saranghei. Yet to master the Korean accent. I cannot say it properly, alas. I could sit and listen to a bunch of Koreans speak all day without once pausing to try and make sense of what's being said, not because I would be too busy staring at their adorableness. Too many clicks and 'tch's and abrupt ends for my liking.

Listen to the song, though. It sounds so beautiful, if you're as fortunate as me to be blissfully unaware of what is being said. If you do understand, just try and pretend that you don't know. Easier said than done, I know, but just try. I regret having Googled up the translation. Some things are best left untouched, or unquestioned, in this case.

I cant get over how beautiful they make it sound. I would have puked had I heard this song in English, what with the hunger inducing lyrics, but it sounds so tragically beautiful in another language. Bless the Asian music industry. Translating it in English would all but completely mutilate the meaning, so I'll spare it the humiliation.

Fell in love with the second rapper's voice in particular (you know, the guy in the second verse?). Yes, he's hot (Korean — need I say more?), but I like listening to him more than I like looking at him. It's got this tragic sexuality to it. I wish I could listen to him over and over again, nonstop. I cant pinpoint the exact emotion it draws out, but I've not heard someone like that for a very long time. Been listening to too many grown men with overgrown beards and long hair screaming at the top of their lungs, and having a guy in his early twenties (?) singing (I know he's rapping, it just sounds like singing to me is all) in a voice as raspy/hoarse and deep as this is a soothing change.

There's a song that was supposed to come after it, but something went wrong with playlist.com. [LINK] Ignore the hideousness, just listen. It is in my own language, so I do understand it. Cant help thinking that I would love it regardless of my comprehension of the lyrics. As it is, I do know what he's singing about, but my mastery of Bengali pales in comparison to my mastery of English. Indeed, it is the hardest language to learn, but once that's done, it becomes a waste of time. It lacks the beauty that others possess, no matter how impressive a vocabulary you have. Take letters, form words, use multiple words to form sentences...so drab. A waste of time. Mastering English does nothing except demonstrate your fluency in the language. You cant compose works of art. Fail spectacularly in writing something with soul or life. Simply demonstrate your extensive word list and preferred method of composition. Show off your style of writing and flaunt what skills you have. Reiterate the same sentence repeatedly without sounding redundant.

Ever realize that you thought a song, novel, poem, whatever it is, sounded better when you were reading it in another language, even though you didn't understand it? I just did, albeit a very insightful friend and wanted to share a few things with you; in English, to my dismay. I do not have the leverage over my own language, nor yours, to write you anything in either of those two.

Thank you, firstly, for being who you are. If you weren’t Vietnamese/Korean, I don’t think I’d have been anything more than a friend to you. Superficial, I know. *epik sigh* Jokes aside, though, thank you for being such a wonderful friend. You’re more than I could have asked for. Much, much more than I thought I would ever deserve.

This is where it gets awkward, see. I thought I’d be able to write on and on and on, but the words just don’t come to me. I cant write it out, I’d rather just say it to you. But there’s this thing that calls itself my pride, which refuses to let me show any genuine emotion. It claims that I’m being vulnerable and letting my guard down by trusting someone with my emotions, whatever that means. It’s not in its right state of mind and goes on and on saying these kind of things. So, when I do want to say it, I end up staying silent.

Saranghei. That’s a start, I suppose. That was easy enough. Maybe you should just learn Bengali. That way I could say everything I wanted without having said pride breathe down my neck and admonish me for not holding back.

It all sounds funny, in English. Embarrassing, it is, too. I like saying things of this nature in a mutual language, save the universal one.

See you soon, yeah? Goodbye is not a word that has any tangible definition in my dictionary. I will see you, if not sooner, than later. Anyhow, you’re not going to love California more than you will New York. You’ll be crucified if you do. You have no idea just how much I will miss you. :]