Dream, Dream, Dream!
I am...utterly...MORTIFIED, SURPRISED, ELEVATED, SCARED, SHOCKED, SMITTEN...by the fact that whatever I write here is actually read by people...alive kicking human beings that have a mind of their own. And they willingly chose to read my blog and I deeply appreciate your time and effort, my dear silent and non-silent readers.
No one ever thank you guys for your support. Not many anyway. And I dearly and sincerely thank you for everything. Thanks for all the advice. And I will try to be happier!!
Ever wondered why is it in our dreams that the most ridiculous and unbelievable thing happens? Why is it in real life these amazing things doesnt occur but seem like an endless nightmare?
I was dressed in a Hong Kong movie university student cute girl outfit with the extremely short skirt. I seemed to have dropped 30 pounds and look as sexy as Heidi Klum at a 4' 11" height. I am utterly smitten with the hunky Indian man ahead of me dragging me into a "ridiculously-from-a-Jackie-Chan-movie" Chinese restaurant. His hand grips mine in a perfect fit. A fit I recognize but can't seem to put a name to.
All I see is his sexy back & butt...(haahha *blush* embarassed!) but I don't seem to know his name. I try to call out random lovey dovey nicknames beckoning him to slow down yet there is no response but a utter determination to find a seat in this crowded restaurant. I needed to know the name of this familiar man. I dig my heels into the ground and halted to a stop. He turns and smiles at me with this amazing 1000 megawatt smile. He hugs me close and lowers his face for a kiss. It's him...the guy of my dreams...as a Indian??? Huh???
In the midst of me asking who he was....his lips close against mine...and *poof*
Yes...*poof*(white fog and all)...I was transported into United States, at a political campaign debate.
I was in a sexy Audrey Hepburn outfit that I have always dreamed of wearing. I was standing next to a incredibly handsome white candidate...who looks kinda like my dream man. He was reading a speech I wrote. He din seem too happy. The audience were not responding positively to what I wrote. My mind went, "Oh no! I'm screwed."
As the clock clicked noon, the crowd broke apart and I braced myself for a scolding or maybe beating. This guy dragged me across the room into a secluded corner. What's with the dragging!?! He stood before me and asked me if I had any of the other more experienced staff read the speech. I gulped my guilty "No". He blows up into a violent temper, speaking of my stupidity and ignorance. Tears well up in my eyes and his angry gestures grow gentle. He walks up to me and gently strokes my face, in a freakishly familiar way. I tense up as he tells me its a stressful time for him, explaining that I should not allow my pride and fear of asking questions to get in the way of the campaign's objectives. He then pulls me close for a kiss...
And I woke up!
Utterly sexually frustrating, don't you think? What do you think that means? Those men was the man of my dreams...as an Indian and an American?? Weird!!!
Love movies...
I believe all Korean love stories should be banned from people like me...yes...depressed ex girlfriends who still is utterly in love with a man who suddenly one day decided he did not love her anymore.
I don't understand how Koreans are able to portray love in such a pure manner. I cry while watching the 12 wonderful movies slot into one DVD. I am a sadist, very much the believer of love. I believe that cupid still roams the world finding the two true souls; and shoots their hearts together. That is why when there is a break-up, both hearts tear in pain from the separation. And I also shamefully believe that cupid might be a friend of God.
Here is how a Korean love story would go:
One would fall for the other but silently keep it in their hearts. But somehow fate would bring them together despite any loathing or barriers present. And they would fall madly in love and live happily ever after. And even if they don't live happily ever after, they would add an additional 10 minutes to the movie to show that the man/woman has returned to their chosen loved one.
I had many dates before this. My friends know of my many disasters. And I used to be an Amazon woman. My definition of Amazon woman is that someone who doesn't believe in love, hate men and literally find men the scum of the earth.
Then he appeared in my life. First as that cute geeky white boy in choir. Who seemed to really connect with me. Truthfully I was jealous that he kept talking to my best friend, when in fact he was talking to her about me. People told me that I liked the attention which is why I fell for him. But the truth falls far from that tree, I liked him the moment I realised he was such a great friend. I felt the instant chemistry but resisted it because I was afraid of my friends teasing me.
Seriously why do we resist what is good for us when we are afraid of what people might say? I am sad that all that time together I could not explain why I was willing to give it all to him. And now that he doesn't want to talk to me ever....I can't tell him that I do love him with all my heart and that no matter what I won't stop loving him. My best friends think I am an idiot, saying all these crazy things. But deep down despite all the dates and one ex boyfriend before him, some more successful ones , I din give in. But to him I did. Because I knew...he was and is the 'one' cupid shot my heart for!
And because I am also an idiot...I constantly bug him to remind him of that because I am afraid he forgot. Forgot what it was like to be happy together. Forgot how it felt being complete in each others arms. And I broke his patience for me. Now, he hates me. Like hitting the bitter core of a sweet fruit. I am a goner...thrown in the dumps.
Would he return to me like those Korean love stories? *sigh*
I am utterly convinced no one reads my depressing blog...trust me...I wouldn't either. I should change the blog title to boring and depressing Haha. Therefore, with that assumption, I will rant my heart out and do not have to worry what people is thinking after reading all these.
I hear Salsa music in the background. The man I am dancing with pulls me close. I feel an instant attraction to him but his presence seems a little too overwhelming for me. I look around seeking for help. I see the handsome face of the man I dream of daily. His hands are loving caressing a beautiful girl called A. He looks into her eyes intently and seem to pull her closer when I gaze at him for help. I hear my heart breaking into pieces. I know he did not notice.
I struggle to pull further away from the man I am dancing with yet I am enticed by his wicked looking eyes. I am sweating all over and the clammy warm heat surrounding us threatens to make me puke. I feel my flesh burning up as if a fever was approaching. He leaned forward for a kiss. I was drawn to him like a magnet. He kissed me and I felt fire on my lips. What passion! At that same instant, I smelt flesh burning.
I open my eyes..."AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH", I scream inwardly. I have been dancing with the devil himself. I am burning in a pungent smelling fire of evil. My beloved dance further with his precious. I call out but my cries fall on deaf ears. Maybe I deserve this...the pain and the fire. God created beautiful people....and I was the defect. There is no use for a defected toy unable to fulfill its purpose so its time to be thrown into the waste basket of hell.
Instinct?
Girl talk. She was sitting in front of me amidst pizza, chips and juice. A Korean love story plays in the background. I tell her of my life. She tells me of hers. I tell her bout my skin condition. She understands...she has sensitive skin too. She vaguely knows what's going on in my head.
That is what I assumed. Boy..was I wrong! She looked me in the eye, staring straight to the core of my emotion.
She gently asks, "Are you sad that its not terminal?"
I was shocked at her question. My hand swings up to slap her overly beautiful face for such an insult. But I stop mid air. I knew what she was asking was what I really felt. Despite her blurness, she knew me well. Only after meeting her 3 months ago, but she knew me....inside out.
I sigh, and answer; "Yes. Just a little...maybe." I was hesitant in answering so honestly. I was afraid I would scare her away. She nodded and silently went back to picking the onions out of the pizza.
I realize that day...that...I am not that great after all....I am a SCREWED-UP PERSON. I am Meredith Grey/Christina Yang of Grey's Anatomy....Lorelai Gilmore of Gilmore Girls....Lois Griffin from Family Guy
I hate myself...
I look at myself in the mirror. I gag from the ugliness I see in front of me. It's not the psoriasis red inflaming exposes skin that repulses me but the self-loathing that turns my stomach.
A few days ago, I experienced the full blown impact of my disease. Assignments were catching up on me and God has delightfully presented me with a opportunity to be kind and nice to one very lazy classmate and another overly blur one. The progression of course would be for little old me to pick up the slack which resulted in a 48 no sleep just to finish their work. Lazy classmate decided that he would only contribute 2 hours before the presentation and blur one felt that it was funny to forget all her main points during the presentation leaving me with the worst mark I have gotten this semester for a presentation. I understood the lecturer was kind enough to consider in my hard work and it was a fairly good mark. But it is not good enough for me especially since I have worked so hard on it.
During that 48 hours of no sleep, my skin condition detected the stress levels. Started shooting all the white blood cell to my skin. Attacking it till it was extremely inflamed...in just minutes my arms and legs were swollen and extremely itchy. But it did not end there.....it started to hurt...under the skin...as if someone was tightening my skin around the arm and it had no space at all to breathe. I was relieved that maybe that might be the end of the pain, after putting 10 tonnes on moisturizer on my arms and legs to relieve the tension, but this time they sent their troopers to my joints. Digging into it like hungry little pigs. Pain shot through my joints like needles and thumb tacks have replaced my joint fluids.
My stupidity to pick those group mates pales in comparison to my stupidity of still being in love with him. A man I dedicated my whole life to but chose to leave me because of reason unable to be explained. Tell a woman that and her mind whirlpools into a flashback on every situation she could have caused this. I braced my heart doing everything just in order to have him love me again...but that didn't work...so I did everything so we could at least still talk....but that also didn't work. People keep telling me to move on ...and that I am not allowing myself not to. Which idiot would want to endure so much pain all the time...I don't think its nice feeling this constant pain in your heart, crying when no one is looking, dream plagued with how much he doesn't care bout you and never did, waking up in tear and feeling like the worst pile of shit, walking through the day happy but dying inside, feeling my condition worsen because I can't be happy, the physical pain reminding me of how idiotic I am allowing my emotional pain cause it.
Before this...I said that I would trade a 100 days of that constant psoriasis pain so I could spend one happy day with him. Today, I would trade in a 1000 days of that same pain so that he would be fine and just tell me in 4 short words.."I'm good and healthy."
What an idiot I am...don't you think? I wonder how God feels bout me bargaining with Him....
Condition or curse?
"Your next course of treatment would be taking cancer pills", the doctor says gently and calmly at my quivering face about to burst into tears. I am afraid, shaking in fact, as he tells me that my medication and consultations to come would not be fully covered by my health insurance.
I am about to collapse from the intense pressure. I grip myself for any further blows and I cannot take any more. The doctor seems to understand my dilemma and silently writes out my referral to another specialist.
I have an incurable disease but its not cancer. It has every symptom of cancer yet it is not life threatening. Everyone would tell me that I should be grateful of my chance at life. I would tell them the opposite. I do not appreciate the "life-is-so-short" policy that most would have adopted by now because I feel like I am standing in a corridor lined up with doors of opportunities at each side of me. I see every door ahead of me slamming shut as I stand there mouth open wide in surprise.
This is how it goes..I have a genetic skin disorder. My T-cells are attacking my skin daily creating little tumours on it. It looks horrific and ugly-fied. Trust me...you don't want to be with me. It is triggered to get worst by alcohol, smoking, medication, stress, chlorine and every single thing on earth. Lately, as you all have know, I have been real stressed out about certain things namely my assignments and have taken a horrible toll into it.
My doctor in Malaysia knew of my condition but somehow forgot to tell me. I was unable to take precautions until it has reached quite a serious stage. My next course of action; to take medication that cancer patients take including all their risks. I hate myself even more at the thought that I am robbing people who need it more than I do. However, this can only be confirmed at my next RM400 doctors appointment which I cannot afford.
Is it a blessing that I won't die from it? Maybe. But every medical treatment for me would be life threatening with all their humongous risks.
Is it a curse? I feel it is. My future holds controlled situations, forced happiness because I cannot stress, arthritis, ugliness, disfiguration, pain, sleepless nights. How am I to stay stress-free when all I see ahead is that?
Oh God...please help me. Please!
P.S. ~ I am so sorry to babble on. It's difficult putting on a front to everyone that you are ok/smiling/happy when deep down inside you are in despair and worried.
Isn't there some days you feel like you are falling down the stairs non-stop?
