Christmas Medley

"..I'd like to make myself believe,

that planet earth turns slowly,

its hard to say I'd rather stay awake when I'm asleep

because my dreams are bursting at the seams.."

Dear lonely isle,

Is it odd to be so very tired at the end of the day but feel completely satisfied?

Is it odd to wake up feeling so tired but at the same time so ready to face the new day?

Is it odd to wake up smiling?

"..got this feeling that you can't fight,

like this city is on fire tonight,

this could really be a good life.."

Is it odd that I'm so happy?

Perhaps its just the start, maybe I'm not worn out yet.

But I should be, yet I don't feel so.

I remember the days I had during my practical, and how different they were, despite the fact that I had more sleep, and lesser working hours, and much lesser workload.

I remember dreading to wake up every morning.

I remember dreading to go to work.

I remember dreading being at work.

While I'm convinced that everything is light and airy because its new, I can't help but to feel that something is different.

I don't know if this is a new perspective that I'm adding to the list of things that define me, or if its the false promise of the shiny new.

Even if it is, it's holding up so far, and I've really never been happier.

What I do know though, is that I'm definitely in way over my head, and paddling further and further away from the shore. Consciously.

"..suddenly I'm in too deep to ever get out,

I gave you my heart and soul to keep,

don't give me your doubts,

I'm in over my head and its scaring me so.."

If this is what being in too deep is, I'm ready to dive head first.

I know its not too late to turn back yet, but I have only eyes for straight ahead.

There's some things I realized that I can't lose.

Now that you've made your bed, you're gonna have to lie in it.

Somehow, even though its a little messier than I'd like, scary because its unpredictable, and so very different and sounds like a mistake, there's really nowhere else I'd rather be right now.

"..and I still can't believe that you came up to me and said,

'I love you'

I love you too.."

Than here in my room, dreaming about you and me.

Love, Joyce.

Day Fourteen

'..I'll forget the world that I knew

but I swear I won't forget you.."

Dear lonely isle,

It came sooner than I expected.

I guess it had to happen. Sooner though, rather than later like I thought it would.

But I guess its normal.

Is it?

Human emotions are messy, unpredictable, and above all, stupid.

The human heart is really quite unfathomable.

Yet we rely on it so much, or at least I do.

It's just a phase.

Sometimes your heart takes some time to catch up with your brain.

Or is it perhaps the other way around?

That your brain is only now receiving signals your heart has been sending out for some time already?

Maybe its the latter...the heart has always been more perceptive than its counterpart in the upper regions.

Which is probably why posts like these only come under the heading of Day Fourteen, rather than Day Three or Four.

But it's just a silent whisper.

Background noise to the screaming static that is my life.

Except that now the static has dissolved into silence, and the silence spreads over your ears like a blanket, muffling out all other sounds.

And the silence is deafening.

But it's all good.

I like it like this.

Its just...a little murmur that I need to block out.

And sometimes when its really quiet you can hear everything.

I think I'm getting better at this.

It may not always be the best policy, but its important to at least be it with yourself.

Love, Joyce.

Day Ten

"..I'm sorry I can't be perfect.."

Dear lonely isle,

You can't please everybody. The best you can do, is to please yourself.

I can't remember where I heard that line before, or where I might have read it.

But I do remember learning that lesson some time ago in Sabah.

Perhaps, I may have remember wrongly.

Or mayhaps I've forgotten it.

I learnt it again tonight.

Maybe it has to do with me being the kind of person I am.

Despite the fact that I am sometimes a bitch, and that I don't really care much about what other people may think, still, deep, deep, down inside, I guess I was, I am and I will always be, a people pleaser.

If there was ever a person built for democracy, it would be me.

I thrive on consensus, and actually tend to make decisions that way.

Besides Joyce, there is also Joyce, whom I rely on for conversation and repartee, and then there's also Joyce, Joyce and Joyce, and we all vote on decisions.

Which probably explains why I'm so fickle-minded when I'm alone, and can be indecisive to a fault. I probably can't decide on something to save my life.

But then again, ever the master of contradiction, I do enjoy dictator-style decision-making under certain circumstances. Usually when I already have an idea in mind, or a particular way I'd like things done, and always, when perfection is required.

I guess most of us are like that in more ways than one.

In spite of everything that I am, and everything that I may seem, I do seem to have been made without the confident self-assurance that some people were born with.

Try as I might, I cannot escape the need for approval.

Being an impulsive person, I tend to act without regard to what others may think, yet I constantly seek approval and support.

And these are the people for whom I cry for, because their approval means more to me than anything, and their support is my reason for existence.

Raison d'etre.

You've never admitted, even to yourself, how much they mean to you, but looking back at your life, you realize that everything you've done, has always been for them.

And that was something even you had failed to notice.

Sometimes, you just need to learn to live for yourself.

And to just be, in anything you do, for yourself.

You can't live your life for someone else. The most you can do, is live it for you.

Whoever they were, they were right. Working life is definitely a new experience.

Already I'm learning something new everyday.

I hate to admit this, but I'm probably a very slow learner.

I'm only beginning to catch up on what others have realized years and years ago.

Still, it's never too late, and it's better late than never.

Love, Joyce.

Day Eight

"..are you desperate to find something more

before your life is over?.."

Dear lonely isle,

Sometimes you feel the dread of the confrontation even before it happens.

Conflict solving, regretfully, isn't one of my strong points.

The weight of the problem hangs on your shoulders, but yet you daren't unload it, for fear that it may cause a dent, or worse yet, a hole in the floor.

And everyone'd have to stand around staring at the hole feeling awkward for a few days while you wait for the repairmen to come and fix it.

But at the same time, you wonder why is it so hard to face.

And sometimes, you find help when you didn't expect it, in the last place you thought of looking.

And you are grateful.

To say that I am worried is probably an understatement.

It's ironic how we were always told to do what we didn't want to, or what we should do, even if it made us unhappy, because it was 'for our own good', and then growing up and learning that you shouldn't do it anymore. As a matter of fact, you should go as far as to do what you want to do, and make yourself happy (within reason an without hurting others, of course).

The inconsistency, or should I say, the breaking of the routine, the normal, the consistent, is driving me up the wall. Even worse because its a state of being, a mindset.

It was always what I should do, rather than what I want to do.

Now, I'm revising that line of thought.

It took a long time to get here.

Now that I am here, I'm left wondering what can I do.

And more importantly, am I making a mistake?

Love, Joyce.

Day Six

"..can you meet me halfway,

right at the borderline,

that's where I'm going to wait, for you.."

Dear lonely isle,

Whenever we needed something, we went out and shopped for it.

What if what you needed was a man?

How does one shop for a man?

Unlike the inanimate, unalive dress, shoes or bag that a woman buys, a man is somewhat different.

For one, before you can bring him home as a purchase you've first got to get him to agree to that particular proposition.

So how does one get a man to say yes to 'I do'?

Like any other merchandise in Malaysia, choosing the wrong man will result in much unpleasantness in the attempt to get your money refunded, which is unlikely to say the least.

That aside, how do you know which man to choose?

Unlike clothes, shoes and bags, again, a man is hardly something you can buy several of to, you know, to change as and when the occasion demands.

The law states that one woman can purchase only one man at any one time.

Assuming I am to be a law-abiding citizen on this, how does one choose the man? (Of course, bear in mind that the man has to be conned into choosing you as well, so self-selling is of vital importance)

Do you buy the first shirt that you see?

So asks my mom all the time.

The shopping rationale behind this is very true, as most shoppers know. Sometimes we purchase something a little too quickly and find out later on that we made a rash choice because good things come to girls who wait.

But then again, sometimes the right choice merely depends on timing.

Something that didn't suit us then, may suit our fancy now.

As our mentality and needs change, so do our choices.

Something which may have been good for us back then, may have become the wrong choice now.

I guess, the same goes about men.

So how did our mothers do it? Finding the right man, the one whom we refer to right now as 'dad', or 'daddy', or 'father', or whatever it is that girls call their fathers these days.

At some point in life we need to stop choosing, and pick one already. And then bring it home and try to live with it.

But as every shopper also knows, despite the first shirt question above, sometimes we do find the first shirt to be the right one. And sometimes, we realize this after we've gone into every other store and seen all the other ones available. Perhaps there really was something about it that caught your eye the first time you saw it. And then, when we've finally decided to go and get it, after a lot of thinking, consideration and heartache (from parting with money), we find that it was already sold to the lady in red (or blue, or black, or green, insert your favourite colour, whatever, it doesn't matter. That lady isn't you.)

And then what do you do?

To say that you should have bought it sooner is rather unfair, as you were just being prudent.

And when it comes to shopping for a man, which you can only marry one at a time, being prudent is the most prudent thing one can do.

But what if you think you know he's the right one?

Sometimes we do get these little...signs, feelings, hunches, intuition, that this is it.

And we can't always be sure if we can trust it.

Then there's also the matter of convincing the dearly beloved other half (the purchase-to-be) to agree to your insane idea of marriage, and then from there, to convince both sets of parents that it isn't complete and utter madness.

It's just one of those things that seem incredibly and totally ridiculous to both yourself and your parents, but is actually rather normal for someone of your age.

It's just one of those things that seem incredibly far off to yourself, when in fact, you know that it should be incredibly, and probably uncomfortably, near, as an outsider looking in.

It's just one of those things.

I saw a bridal fair today.

When the lady at the counter asked if I was going to get married soon, I couldn't help but to answer yes.

Maybe the biological clock is ticking, and I'm finally hearing its cry of alarm.

Or, maybe I am right and this is it.

Am I scaring you yet?

If you plan to run away, let me go with you.

Love, Joyce.

Day Five

I remember what you wore on the first day

you came into my life and I thought hey,

you know, this could be something

'cause everything you do and words you say

you know that it all takes my breath away

and now I'm left with nothing

so maybe it's true

that I can't live without you

and maybe two, is better than one

but there's so much time

to figure out the rest of my life

and you've already got me coming undone

and I'm thinking two, is better than one

I remember every look upon your face

the way you roll your eyes, the way you say

you make it hard for breathing

'cause when I close my eyes and drift away

I think of you and everything's okay

I'm finally now believing

That maybe its true

that i can't live without you

and maybe two, is better than one

there's so much time

to figure out the rest of my life

and you've already got me coming undone

and I'm thinking

I can't live without you

'cause baby two, is better than one.

there's so much time

to figure out the rest of my life

but I figured out with all that's said and done

Two is better than one.

Boys Like Girls feat. Taylor Swift

Two is Better than One

"..the hope we have

is so much to feel good about.."

Dear lonely isle,

Its the quietest its ever been in here.

The silence is calm, soothing.

I could really get used to this.

For once, its not filled with the roar of mumbled thoughts and whispered worries.

For once, it feels really good to be alone.

For once, I am me, and I'm alone inside my head.

Sometimes I wonder how I got from there to here, from then to now.

It used to be the city that never sleeps, now its just a lonely island.

Quiet, and contented.

As I go about my life, through the motions, the routine and the bustle of training, its the same, and yet its different.

Maybe because it feels different on the inside.

Sometimes I get really tired at the end of the day, but no matter how busy it felt, inside I was the tourist on the hammock, reading my favourite book, relaxing by the beach on the lonely island.

There are still little worries and insecurities that nag at me, but they're just quiet murmurs in the vast white emptiness that is now my mind. And right in the middle, is a small patch of blue, a calm spot of sea, with a single island in the middle.

I'd like to believe that this is what meditation feels like.

What a zen state of mind feels like.

What it truly means to look into the Mirror of Erised, and see just your reflection.

I'd like to think that I'm truly happy right now.

And part of it is being able to be me, and just me.

If it were any old me, I'd wish that this could last.

Right now, even if I said it, I don't think I can mean it, because I'm really contented with the moment, and the next, and the one after that, and each one that follows.

Even so, I'm still very much me, and still very much a worrywart more than ever, with not-so-subtle hints of paranoia.

Who else can be perfectly contented, and worry that something might be wrong with them for feeling this way?

Maybe there really is something wrong with me.

Love, Joyce.

Day Two

"..hearts break, hearts mend,

love still hurts.."

Dear lonely isle,

Reality is like a slow, cold wash of dirty water, thrown into your face as you alight from the steps leading from your house of refuge.

So you stay in.

And pray that everything is just you being paranoid, and that the worst is yet to come.

But what you fail to realize is that the worst was already over. And that was the part about acceptance.

Now comes the part of living with consequences.

But the full realization of your loss has yet to hit you. Perhaps in days, weeks, months to come, the ghosts of the dearly departed past would come back to haunt you, but for now, you're just glad that you're not alone.

Sometimes in losing one thing, we gain...something else.

Sometimes we gain more than we deserve.

And the little person in side wonders if there is karma and retribution at the end of this.

Because after everything wrong you've done, you wonder if you did something right.

What if you did?

Oh, but what if you didn't?

Still.

When your gut tells you you're on to something good, do you believe them?

I do.

Breathe. There's so many more days to go.

love, Joyce.