Haiku?

Crisp fragile thoughts of you Dance and stirs the air Falls on my unquiet mind

wallowing in my own imagination

Can you tell someone is thinking about you? Look at the sky above you It’s like the air is spell bound by you Velvet soft and glow exudes from you Eternally waiting for you

if

If I was a pair of glasses Can I sit in your shirt pocket So I can listen to your every heartbeat If I was a fountain pen Would you hold me with your hand So I can record your every word in my heart If I was a phone Would you hold me next to your ear So I can feel your every breath But I’m not your glasses, pen or even phone I’m not even the ring around your finger Now I don’t get to see you anymore I guess how I feel you will never know So I’ll just stand here behind you If you ever turn around to look You will find someone ready To write your every word To listen to your voice To stay in your heart

vegetables of mass dwstruction

Last night I discovered the power of a pumpkin in a microwave. Actually, it's not really a pumpkin. I think it's some sort of squash of sorts. Pumpkins tends to soften when you heat it in the microwave and they don't make spectacular orange graffiti in microwaves as the hard skin squashes. The stuff inside the squash is quite stringy, kind of noodle like. Many strands therefore were not actually amenable to my attempt at cleaning up. Therefore I think I shall be tasting nuked squash in much of my diet from now until eternity. It's very much like how radiation hangs around after nuclear bombs explode... True to my compatriot dictators, I shall therefore consider expanding my arsenal of vegetables of mass destruction to also eggplant, and possibly capsicums. Of course, if anyone was to inspect my kitchen, they would also find evidence of egg explosion testings as well as coffee and milk eruptions. OliLand is also dangerous because of the existence of the washing machine swamper known to cause floods at unpredictable times. This is, however, a natural phenomenon, due largely to a very rapid build up of towels and clothing from the people's frequenting the gym far too often. This is uniquely combined with a condition known as "clogged sink hole in the sinky/ laundry tub thing" . However, flooding has now been controlled due to the use of "water level control" technology and also regular inspection by the weapons inspector to ensure clear passage of the sink. Given the level of dangerousness of OliLand, thank goodness I have no oil in my house. Otherwise, George Bush might decide to inspect my home and invade! (Wow, I think I'm going insane, I don't know if any of the above made any sense at all...someone might need to apply for the Mental Health Act to have me sectioned!)

superficial discontent

Gosh where has the weekend gone? Everything leaves a carbon footprint except for weekends, so it seems. This week I kept asking myself, why I never want what I have, always envy of others, wanting to be someone else. Lord knows I have so much to be thankful for. To a certain extent, it’s useful to have something to strive for, yet when the goal post is not only out of reach, but seem to be in another playing field altogether! I have had a crush on every boss I had except for the one that asked me out. It struck me that sometimes I don’t like the people that find me interesting because they remind me of me! How will I ever get to be somewhere that I want to be? I want to be everyone else other than me. This is surely a curse. That is why I like the gym, that’s why I like swimming, these are times that give me legitimate reason to day dream. But surely it’s time to grow out of this teenage idealisation of life. This is a time of generativity and building of intimate relationship, so Erikson says. Failing this means falling into stagnation and isolation. I like to think that I only need to do my own best. But I do mind. I just make it like Holden Caulfield, stand off and be cynical, yet underneath, long to belong somehow. People say don’t worry about where other people are, what others get up to, no point in comparing. Make your own way, live your own life. But when everyone is different, are they not all the same? Why is it such a sun to conform anyway? I’ve come to conclude that there needs to be a high degree of sophisticated understanding and acceptance to age. I guess that’s why people say suicide is the coward’s way out. But where do people gain the wisdom? At the age of 31, I am “stepp'd in so far, that, should I wade no more, returning were as tedious as go o'er”.

night dreamer

Two nights in a row, having to try to convince people that they should live instead of topping themselves. You can see though, that they are just angry – angry at the boyfriend who is now with a “new bitch” and this other man…well, he just needs to toughen up! Spent hours trying to convince him to go, instead of me having to section him. Argued with me that his life SHOULD be peaceful, happy. WHO SAID?! Face it, life is not fair. Life is sad. BUT don’t despair, it’s not forever! He said he’s so torn between living and dying. He shouldn’t have to live with such torment. I replied that people are always making choices. He remarked that I looked like I “got it together”. Little did he know on the way there, I was day…well, night dreaming about my new cunning plan to continue contact with my boss (who is officially single!!) even though I’m changing jobs… that’s why I could refrain from hitting him on the head telling him to toughen up….anyway, I digress. But I replied that I don’t particularly like getting up at 3 in the morning to listen to sad stories (not in those exact words but in essence) but we make choices for goals. He is a father of FIVE for crying out loud! Anyway, I won’t go on, but I felt such a fake, saying all these “validating things” that I don’t really believe in, when all I really want to do is say “look, it’s your choice, you don’t have to be able to get out of this on your own, but you have to let me help, if not, then good night!” Anyway, I am clearly rather good at pretending because he stayed. I suppose I’ve also been reflecting on the fact that some of my more junior colleagues have managed to past the exam which I have failed twice, and have to face again in October. It’s pretty damning evidence against my professional abilities. In spite of that, my boss (who unfortunately is quite unaware of my immature crush) and many others provide me with boosts such as “the best always takes three goes” and “I will wait for you” (although, well, I really don’t think Dr Suave meant that, he is after all, Dr Suave), did soften the blow. And I reflected on where I am going with life. What can I say, I like what I do. I hate the nights and the on calls but, on a day to day basis, it’s what I want to do. (although for the next 6 months, it may be less pleasurable to go to work, because of the lack of soothing eye confectionary). I am, even if I don’t pass the exam, satisfied with the nature of my work. I can only be thankful for having the opportunity to do it  I suppose it’s just that I owe God to pass this thing, because I can do more, being a consultant. Saw Nigella Lawson again on TV. Yeap, if I was a guy, I would develop an erotomanic delusion about her, then DON”T treat me! She is GORGEOUS. Oxford graduate. Graceful. Individual. @#$%%^* beauty in every sense of the word. Exuding warmth and motherly security…even now, as a girl…if I met her in person…I might… HAAAAAAAAAA. Yep, I’m fully aware of who might be reading this, and I take full responsibility for the entire passage above! SO THERE!