Tuesday, January 04, 2011

Bad Feelings

Dear lonely isle,

I have a bad feeling.
Actually let me rephrase that; I had a bad feeling just now.
Maybe that's still not entirely correct, the bad feeling has not yet passed.
Therefore, I am having a bad feeling. Sounds about right, no?
Okay lets start over.

" the end of the day,
its what you do and say,
that makes you who you are.."

Dear lonely isle,

I am having a bad feeling.
Of all the feelings I could be having about anything in particular, this has got to be the worst feeling I can have about this particular thing.
Maybe it was the bad dream I had this afternoon. Maybe it wasn't what I thought it was about.
Maybe it was the strange dream I had two nights ago.
Do you believe in foreboding? Do you believe in premonition, precognition, clairvoyance?
Do you believe in bad feelings?

But its only the start of the year. It should not start with a bad feeling.
Please let it not start with this bad feeling.
I am trying to be hopeful, but..actually I dare not say it. I'm afraid that if I'd even admit it to myself it might come true. And then when it did, I'd have to say that it really did happen.

I don't know what am I doing. I'm starting to see warning signs but I'm still charging full speed ahead.
I know I need to stop but I cannot stop myself.

Maybe I haven't been trying hard enough.
Truly, this has gone on long enough.
I must do something about this. I must.

I have ceased trying to be hopeful. Hope does not run events or get things done.
Hope does not get from trying to accomplishing.
Correction; I need to cease trying to be hopeful.
Hopefulness was what I hoped was enough.

So in myself I must place my trust. I will get things done.

So, even in the event that this bad feeling has a possibility somewhere in the future of coming true, I will snub it out by changing the course of actions starting from this very moment.

Truly I need to have more control of myself than what is currently happening to my willpower over my appetite.
I will be able to.

Honestly, I can't help but feel that this blog is truly, entirely and only for myself. The rambling monologue is nothing but a series of confusion for anyone else who tries to understand it.
I have gone from analogy to abstract to vague to currently, just indecipherable crap.

But it is something I need to get off of my chest. It would be nice to be reassured that its just pre-holiday jitters or overanxiety or whatnot, but since that option is not available to me, I guess this outlet will just have to do for now.

Bad feeling, please go away.

Love, Joyce.

Saturday, May 01, 2010


"..Little Bo Peep has lost her sheep
and doesn't know where to find them
Leave them alone and they'll come home
bringing their tails behind them.."

Sometimes I feel like one of her sheep. Despite the fact that I have herd mentality I also have this insane and annoying ability of getting lost.

Yes it is true. I have the sense of direction of a bat with a broken sonar.

Uncanny knack for getting lost in the literal sense aside, I also tend to get lost in all sorts of other ways as well.

Lost in thought, lost in emotions, lost in decisions, really, the list can go on.

I must have been born with a broken compass, in every sense of the word.

How is it that some people are always so sure of themselves, no matter what, how or where they find themselves to be?

How is it that some people are as sure-footed and as stable as cats, always, always landing on their feet whenever they fall, no matter the height?

Why is it that most of us are born without the natural grace and elegance of a gifted few?

I, for one, have always managed, with a hundred percent success rate, to fall flat on my face every time I trip. It's somehow like Murphy's Law. There is an unwritten rule somewhere that says whenever Joyce falls down, its always facedown, preferably in a puddle of mud. Probably because she tripped over her own feet.

If at anytime at all, should you delight in watching me go to pieces, the answer is simple; give me a choice.

Its a surefire way to watch me unravel at the seams and slowly come undone.

Its quite simple, anyone will tell you choices are better than none. People always want to choose. At anytime you want to distract someone, make them feel like they're in power; you give them a choice, and let them choose.

I've always felt that choices are double-edged swords, and either way you're going to get cut. Its sad to say, but its probably true that I've always preferred to follow than to lead. Whenever it came to the choice between the greater good or to let everyone die nobly, I will probably go down in history as the most useless leader, by allowing voting to happen.

Even when I know what I want I can barely make a decision, when I don't know what I want, a simple choice can reduce me to tears.

Confidence, confidence. I seem to be missing you lately.

Wherefore art thou?

Love, Joyce.

Thursday, April 08, 2010

The Show

"..I'm just a little bit caught in the middle
life is a maze, love is a riddle
I don't know where to go, can't do it alone
I've tried, and I don't know why

I'm just a little girl lost in the moment
I'm so scared, but I don't show it
I can't figure it out, it's bringing me down
I know, I've got to let it go.."

Dear lonely isle,

The other day I overheard something I wished I didn't.
Okay, maybe overheard was the wrong word, because it wasn't even overhearing in the very least.
So let's amend it.

The other day something was spoken in my presence which I wished wasn't.
Because if God pitied us he'd have make it possible to unhear things.

To say that I'm bothered by it would be an understatement. It's starting to worry me more and more. I try not to think about it, but its just never far from my mind.

Sometimes I wonder why I have to work. Now I wonder no more.
It's not something I can do anything about, so it seems rather silly to let it occupy my thoughts. But alas, paranoia and needless worrying is something I'm rather inclined to do.

These days I worry more about the future. I wonder if its got to do with growing up.
I've been blessed a hundred times over, growing up in the environment I did. Maybe its time to give back.

Just the other day, the most worry-free girl I know at work turned to me and said, "You know, I woke up this morning and thought about quitting at the end of the month. This job is really quite stressful."
And then I sat up a little straighter in my chair.
Sometimes I don't know if I'm doing something wrong, or if there must be something wrong with me.

It's true that there are days that going to work seemed more painful than being drawn and quartered, I don't deny.

But at the same time, I've just never considered quitting. True I do sometimes imagine what I'd do if I didn't have to work, but no I've never given the idea that I'd decide to stop much thought.

Sometimes life is just a lot easier and less complicated when there's just the work in front of you that needs to be done. But at the same time, when you find yourself the only person who feels that way, sometimes I wonder if there's something wrong with the work or if there's something wrong with me. Everytime someone tells me that they're thinking of getting another job, its like a slap in the face, because I again wonder what am I doing here.

I don't think it matters much either way, because whether I stay or I don't it doesn't make me think less about what I heard that I wished so much I didn't hear, neither does it make things better if I do stay. Leaving might make things worse, but then again, nothing I do seems to matter very much in the scale of things.

I'm just one person, and I'm supposed to do what I need to do, and I should do what I'm supposed to do till I can't, and as one person doing something is better than one person not trying at all.

So I'm still sitting on the raft in the middle of the ocean, not quite sure if I should paddle with the current, against it, or if I should paddle at all. Clearly I'm not going anywhere, but I don't have anywhere to go.

I really wish I weren't so lost.

Shima, where are you? I need to talk :(

Love, Joyce.

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

21 Guns

"..your faith walks on broken glass
and the hangover doesn't pass
nothing's ever built to last
you're in ruins.."

Dear lonely isle,

Notable thing of today: spoke so much chinese speaking in any other language felt pretty foreign for awhile. Oh, and I actually thought in chinese for awhile too.

Somehow, it seems pretty small.

Everything seems pretty small after awhile, when you've had enough time to get away from it and look at it from a distance.

Somehow, its all I've been feeling.

Gosh. Is it that time of the month again?
It sucks to be the girl always associated with this affliction, but what sucks even more is that it somehow seems to be true.

I think I need to do something with my life.

The other day as I watched season 5 of Desperate Housewives, I mused as I watched Tom and Lynette fight because the tired wife had fallen asleep during a sex session. The next day, Tom had said, "Do you know why sex with you has become so important to me lately? Its because the only thing that I'm passionate about in my life right now, is you."

And I think I understand truly.

I am all for and always with condoning living life with passion, but somehow, just like how Tom felt silly about sharing it, so do I; I don't have anything I'm passionate about.

Sometimes I wonder if there are people out there who feel this way.

Because all the other people I've known and met aren't like that. Everyone has...something that they're passionate about. It could be their job, a pet, animals in general, a hobby, an idea, a culture, the environment, something.

I don't even have anything imaginary to the passionate about.

Some people are passionate about living itself. Striving, pushing forward, and always wanting to improve.

Sometimes I wonder if being a lazy person has anything to do with it.
I mean..I understand that I am a lazy person. But to the extent where I am passionate about nothing because I do not put in enough effort to be passionate about something? If that is so then I guess I have never felt so ashamed in my life before.

Most of the time I feel like half an adult, like a child not fully grown, because even children are more passionate than I am.

Someone once told me that this is a syndrome of people who are too well endowed in the upper regions; note: brain. If such is true I'd give away my grades for half the passion that any normal person has.

Sometimes, on days like these I feel like my life is one long, straight line from point A to point B. And much as I'd like to pretend how interesting point A and point B is, and how eventful the journey from former to latter was, I'm afraid I'd only be lying. My life is just as eventful, and just as interesting as 2 points on a sheet of plain white paper, with a ruler-straight line connecting them. And that was very painful to say.

Perhaps its better to be boring and uneventful than to be filled with sorrow and pain. And perhaps, I agree, yes that is better. But honestly, what would I know?

Yes, on some days I feel very small indeed. Tiny in fact.

And I wonder if its because of the change of hormones taking place in my body.
And secretly, I think it isn't true at all, because there are some things you just can't lie to yourself.

I know I need to find something to do with my life.

Because people only usually feel this way after experiencing near death, or after they're forty and hitting mid life crisis.

I can't imagine how I'm going to be like when I hit forty. I'm probably heading for a nervous breakdown.

Did you stand too close to the fire, like a liar begging for forgiveness from a stone..?

Sometimes, when I take a look at my blog, I realize, it is, a very long, and very personal diary. I say very personal, because whenever I come here, its always because, I have something to say...about myself. Does this make me a self obsessed person?

And to make things even sadder, I'm now going to try to explain to myself why I always and only write about myself. There are a lot of other things I can write about, and I know this to be true. There are a lot of other people I can write about, but yet, I tend to write exclusively about my feelings.

If I were poetic I'd say the biggest puzzle I've always tried to unravel was myself.

If I were an ass I'd say I'm just plain narcissic.

If I were a realist...maybe I'd just say that it doesn't really matter, because your biggest audience is yourself, and I need to remind myself that even though I started a blog for someone else, I need to keep it going for myself. Even if it does make me seem self absorbed.
Hell. In every blog post I am essentially writing to myself *facepalm*

There's just days like these every month.
Maybe they just happen to fall near that particular time of the month.

I know my life is one long, painful search to find something I'm passionate about, because at each and every stage of it, I thought I'd found it, only to find that it wasn't true.
And in every stage of it I hid behind the mundane routine hoping that one day I'll bump into something and it'll say on it on big, red, capital letters with neon signs "PASSION". And then I'll finally know what its like.

And until now it hasn't happen yet. I thought this was something people just were born with, or something they just like or love with all their hearts. I didn't know it took finding.
And even with finding, it still eludes you after 23 years.

I always envied people who went out and lived in the jungle to research animals and plants for National Geographic. I still do.
When I was younger I wanted to be just like them, because they loved something so much, they were willing to spend their lives doing it.
I envy Christians, even though I'd never admit it, because they believed in something so much, they were willing to spend their lives following it.

Which, I note, is probably why, religion and I never really got along. I couldn't believe in it, like I couldn't believe in anything else.

Do you think perhaps when God made this little girl he left out a great chunk of Passion in her heart?

She must somehow be defective.

Love, Joyce.

Monday, March 15, 2010

Have You Ever Been In Love?

Have you ever been in love
you can touch the moonlight
when your heart is shooting stars
you're holding heaven in your arms
have you even been in love?

Have you ever walked on air
ever felt like you were dreaming
when you never thought it could
but it really feels that good
have you ever been in love?

The time I spent
waiting for something that was heaven sent
when you find it don't let go
I know

Have you ever said a prayer
and found that it was answered
all my hope has been restored
I ain't looking anymore
have you ever been so in love?

Some place that you ain't leaving
somewhere you're gonna stay
when you've finally found the meaning
have you ever felt this way?

The time I spent
waiting for something that was heaven sent
when you find it don't let go
I know

Cos have you ever been in love
you could touch the moonlight
you can even reach the stars
doesn't matter near or far

have you ever been in love
have you ever been in love?

So in love

Have You Ever Been in Love
Celine Dion

Heard this in the car on the way home.
Strangely, it really does feel that way, being in love.
I didn't notice it at all, but even though it's only been a while,
it already feels like we've been together for a long time.

Everything feels like it happened so long ago, so far away.
And just like how time really flies when he's around,
I swear it slows down to a crawl when he's not here.

Even though work keeps me busy, for which I am grateful,
I go about my day feeling like something is just missing.

Have you ever said a prayer, and found that it was answered?
Of all the prayers I ever made, I'm so glad this one was heard.

Just trying to keep sane in the midst of calls
and trying to solve everyone else's problems.
It makes your own so much easier to ignore.

Love, Joyce.

Saturday, March 13, 2010

Of Cars and Watches

Dear lonely isle,

Haven't been posting pics for forever, but since I took them anyway, so.

Some new additions to the house~

First up, my other sayang.

I was going to say that its as cute as its owner
but you can already see that for yourself right?

Big, round eyes, general roundness...

Want To Play?

And something a little more pink, a new watch from my dad.
Haven't had a new watch in a looooooong time.

And because pink is so pretty,
I'll entertain you with one more shot of it.


Despite the fact that Astro has been a bitch lately
with the changes with Byond and making my life so difficult, some days aren't too bad.

After all, you leave your work in your locker when you take your bag out to go home.
Just like you leave your headset and notes and jacket and water bottle.
Worries for tomorrow morning.


Love, Joyce.

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

Never Knew I Needed

"..for the way you took the idea that I had
of everything that I wanted to have
and made me see there was something missing.."

Dear lonely isle,

Today was one of those rare silent days on the train.

Not because there wasn't anyone talking, or that the train was particularly empty.
I simply forgot to charge my ipod, and had to endure the train ride staring at other people for amusement and entertainment on my way to and fro from work.

On the train ride back I saw a particularly cute guy, but as life would have it, I'm not particularly a very cute girl. Or at least, not when I'm with my glasses and flats and jeans and plain collared tee.

Eye candy definitely, but I mostly only got to stare at the back of his head, and at his reflection in the window because as fate would have it, I happen to sit somewhat right behind him.

But he was of no matter, because the next guy who came in caught my attention.

In fact, I can't even remember how he looks like.

But what he wore...oh what he wore. He looked so much like a particular someone I used to stare at. Or how that particular someone used to dress at that particular time in life when I used to spend a lot of time with him.

That fedora, that collared tee, those khaki coloured shorts, and just those sneakers.
It was so much like him, except that well, it wasn't, because I know for a fact that he's somewhere else at the moment.

And because silent moments are such that one thought leads to the next, I'm suddenly brought back to a particular conversation we had.

He had asked, how would your dream guy be like?
And I had answered, exactly like you, only perhaps taller.

And now I wonder how true had that been.
After giving it some thought, I think I can say that it was definitely true then, and it is still true now.

The difference is that, I've had that dream guy, and I realized that sometimes what you want, isn't exactly what you need.
We've all had that list of requirements when we were younger, the list of things we thought were good, all those qualities we wanted, all those traits we thought we needed.

And maybe we might have been wrong.
I know I was wrong.

I know you're not my dream guy, and I know you know you aren't as well.
But somehow, you're just everything that I want, without even me knowing it.
I just know its you that I want.

I think I'm starting to believe more in my choices.
If it feels right, it just somehow has to be. I don't know how or why yet, but somehow its just right.

Love, Joyce.