Life isn’t as easy as it is made out to be
Every breath is a conscious decision to live on
The mind always plays tricks on us
But the heart beats to prove that we still feel
Nothing falls naturally in place like in the fairy tales
Complications arise from simple things
How do we decide what is to be
When there are no certainties in life itself
Monday, October 30, 2006
Sunday, October 29, 2006
...english tea and english me.
kwazy was treated to a delicious english tea at carcosa seri negara today by mummy dearest. wow! my mouth still waters remembering the scone and fruitcake and ooh... yummy strawberry tartlet. heavenly...
i'm like wanting to go all english-sy but heck, i'm a typical malaysian berry who enjoys her "-lah"s and "-lor"s and "-mah"s. mum used to admonish me for all those un-natural way of speaking. key word is "used to" coz she gave up.
someone (actually, a few people) did remark that i'm the most 'english' person they know for a local. i'm like... huh? what do you mean? i've never even been to england. nor have i studied under any british education system. i was in a malay government school, ok.
seriously, i wonder why i give them that impression. i don't speak the queen's english (though i love to listen to people who do). the way i speak english still has a little chinese accent to it. i know many malaysians whose english is so much better than mines - verbally, grammatically and in writing. up till today, i still hesitate to give myself a 10/10 for english.
language aside... i don't look english. i don't dress english (personally i think the english doesn't have a good fashion sense). i don't fall into any english habits. i don't follow english customs. hey, christianity originate from middle east, not europe.
oh, but i love english tea.
so what is it in me that people like to label me as such?
maybe coz of the antithesis... coz i'm not chinese enough.
i'm a chinese. but i don't speak chinese well. in fact, i think i can honestly say my chinese language sucks, totally horrible. i, of course, can't read in chinese. i don't know much about chinese culture (interesting but confusing to me). i don't follow chinese customs religiously but i do enjoy some of them. my sister even calls me a banana, though, i prefer to be known as strawberry ;p.
oh, but i love chinese tea as well.
so let's leave it as that...
i'm like wanting to go all english-sy but heck, i'm a typical malaysian berry who enjoys her "-lah"s and "-lor"s and "-mah"s. mum used to admonish me for all those un-natural way of speaking. key word is "used to" coz she gave up.
someone (actually, a few people) did remark that i'm the most 'english' person they know for a local. i'm like... huh? what do you mean? i've never even been to england. nor have i studied under any british education system. i was in a malay government school, ok.
seriously, i wonder why i give them that impression. i don't speak the queen's english (though i love to listen to people who do). the way i speak english still has a little chinese accent to it. i know many malaysians whose english is so much better than mines - verbally, grammatically and in writing. up till today, i still hesitate to give myself a 10/10 for english.
language aside... i don't look english. i don't dress english (personally i think the english doesn't have a good fashion sense). i don't fall into any english habits. i don't follow english customs. hey, christianity originate from middle east, not europe.
oh, but i love english tea.
so what is it in me that people like to label me as such?
maybe coz of the antithesis... coz i'm not chinese enough.
i'm a chinese. but i don't speak chinese well. in fact, i think i can honestly say my chinese language sucks, totally horrible. i, of course, can't read in chinese. i don't know much about chinese culture (interesting but confusing to me). i don't follow chinese customs religiously but i do enjoy some of them. my sister even calls me a banana, though, i prefer to be known as strawberry ;p.
oh, but i love chinese tea as well.
so let's leave it as that...
Monday, October 23, 2006
...it turning 3.
Happy birthday to you!
Happy birthday to you!
Happy birthday to kwazy berry muses on...
Happy birthday to you!
Yes, I have officially blogged for three years. Not 3 solid years though. Nevertheless, I'm proud of your achievements.
Make a wish. Blow out the candle. Cut the cake. Bring out the champagne.
This is an excuse to celebrate. La-dee-da!
Happy birthday to you!
Happy birthday to kwazy berry muses on...
Happy birthday to you!
Yes, I have officially blogged for three years. Not 3 solid years though. Nevertheless, I'm proud of your achievements.
Make a wish. Blow out the candle. Cut the cake. Bring out the champagne.
This is an excuse to celebrate. La-dee-da!
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
...two poems of old.
i don't know why... but at work today... suddenly two poems i read while still in my teens... sneak into my consciousness... these two poems were by dear old robert frost... i shall refrain from making any comments... just want you to share in my fond memories of them... and soak in their meanings...
The Road Not Taken
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
ok... it's difficult to hold back and not spill out my thoughts... after all, the above poem is always close to my heart... i think i know what made me think about this poem... i'm again at a forked road... many forkroads in fact... i hate making decisions... and i hate having to choose... knowing that the choice not chosen will be one i would never ever know the outcome... no matter how far i try to see ahead... i can never actually determine what's beyond my sight... the hardest part is... there is no clear cut answer... both paths are well trodden... yet i gotta choose... and i realise there's no point in regrets... yeah, a few sighs now and then... memories they will be... but because i have chosen... that's the way i am... and that will shape what i am in the future...
oh... and this brings to my mind... a song that i love... which i heard yesterday over the radio on my way home... with exactly the same sentiments... here's over to bon jovi...
It's my life
It's now or never
I ain't gonna live forever
I just want to live while I'm alive (It's my life)
My heart is like an open highway
Like Frankie said
I did it my way
I just wanna live while I'm alive
It's my life
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
so... what made me think about this second poem today... the same last two lines... obligations and responsibilities... i wish i can stop... the woods is paradoxical... it holds danger and the unknown... yet it's seductive... restful, lovely... but dark and deep... i wanna go there but i know i should not venture in... trust my instinct and intuition... sometimes things are not what they seem... a step in may not bring me back to the path... especially when i can't find my way in the fresh snow fall...
The Road Not Taken
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
ok... it's difficult to hold back and not spill out my thoughts... after all, the above poem is always close to my heart... i think i know what made me think about this poem... i'm again at a forked road... many forkroads in fact... i hate making decisions... and i hate having to choose... knowing that the choice not chosen will be one i would never ever know the outcome... no matter how far i try to see ahead... i can never actually determine what's beyond my sight... the hardest part is... there is no clear cut answer... both paths are well trodden... yet i gotta choose... and i realise there's no point in regrets... yeah, a few sighs now and then... memories they will be... but because i have chosen... that's the way i am... and that will shape what i am in the future...
oh... and this brings to my mind... a song that i love... which i heard yesterday over the radio on my way home... with exactly the same sentiments... here's over to bon jovi...
It's my life
It's now or never
I ain't gonna live forever
I just want to live while I'm alive (It's my life)
My heart is like an open highway
Like Frankie said
I did it my way
I just wanna live while I'm alive
It's my life
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
so... what made me think about this second poem today... the same last two lines... obligations and responsibilities... i wish i can stop... the woods is paradoxical... it holds danger and the unknown... yet it's seductive... restful, lovely... but dark and deep... i wanna go there but i know i should not venture in... trust my instinct and intuition... sometimes things are not what they seem... a step in may not bring me back to the path... especially when i can't find my way in the fresh snow fall...
Thursday, October 12, 2006
...fertile women dress to impress.
Hmm... ponder i did on this piece of news.
Here's excerpts:
Women dress to impress when they are at their most fertile, U.S. researchers said in a study they say shows that signs of human ovulation may not be as mysterious as some scientists believe... ..."They tend to put on skirts instead of pants, show more skin and generally dress more fashionably," said Martie Haselton, a communication studies and psychology expert at the University of California Los Angeles who led the study... ...The fertile women did not necessarily dress more provocatively, Haselton noted. "We did see a little bit more skin. It was my impression that the women were just dressing a little bit more fashionably but not sexier."
Now i gotta check myself whether i subconsciously do so.
However, one has to look at it from the other side of the coin. When we, women, are closer to our menstrual period, we tend to be moody, bloated, plagued with aches, and extra tired. So, in that kind of situation, who got the energy and effort to dress up and be pretty??
Here's excerpts:
Women dress to impress when they are at their most fertile, U.S. researchers said in a study they say shows that signs of human ovulation may not be as mysterious as some scientists believe... ..."They tend to put on skirts instead of pants, show more skin and generally dress more fashionably," said Martie Haselton, a communication studies and psychology expert at the University of California Los Angeles who led the study... ...The fertile women did not necessarily dress more provocatively, Haselton noted. "We did see a little bit more skin. It was my impression that the women were just dressing a little bit more fashionably but not sexier."
Now i gotta check myself whether i subconsciously do so.
However, one has to look at it from the other side of the coin. When we, women, are closer to our menstrual period, we tend to be moody, bloated, plagued with aches, and extra tired. So, in that kind of situation, who got the energy and effort to dress up and be pretty??
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