2010

2010 was a year of a huge roller coaster ride and turning points. It’s also a year I get to learn a lot about things I never knew and I’ve misinterpret. I want to thank everyone who’s made a difference and who’s hit a few milestones in my life in 2010 and you guys know who you are. Now, I’m gonna list a few things I’ve learnt from this year. (pretty much inspired by CS , who’s one of the big milestones of 2010)

1. Trusting comes from within and not from expectations. It’s easy to say you trust someone but not really easy to live up to it. However, it’s easier if one gives trust to someone without any justifications needed.
2. Love is work. Like it or not, love is more of a compromise and work in process. If you KNOW you love someone, you gotta work for it and you gotta stop letting pride, greed, jealousy and myths get in the way. Perfect love does NOT exist.
3. Sex is just an activity. It’s ok to have sex without falling for that someone you have sex with.
4. Ex-boyfriends/girlfriends can be your friends, regardless of how much love there is left between the two of you, the past is the past.
5. Happiness is dependent on you, NOT on the location you are in.
6. Whenever you feel like your life’s on a halt, appreciating what’s around you will make you understand how fortunate you are to be where you are in life.
7. Good friends are those who can pick up where you left off last time you were with them after a long absence.
8. Good friends can start from drinks in a bar after sharing tattoo footages. (*nudges CS *)
9. Being gay is normal. And trying to prove something’s normal is NOT normal.
10. Drugs are not addictive. Being sad depending on drugs as an outlet IS addictive.
11. Sadness is temporary. Happiness is permanent.
12. Sadness, when invited, should be embraced.. not frowned upon.
13. Hoping is motivational, not a waste of time.
14. Never hate those people who are honest to say they are bad. Cos they’re way better than those assholes who like to play God.
15. When the ones you love are sad, cry with them and don’t cry for them.

Listening to: The Veronicas – When it all falls apart

A letter to dad

Dear dad,

My album’s finally done and I gave my grandparents the master copy. My grandma came up to my room and she hugged me and cried. She said the song I wrote for you was so good and she cried and thanked me for not forgetting you. Then, she asked me if I hate you.

Now, let me get this clear for once and for all. I love you, dad. That’s the reason I have been bitter about you leaving me early. I have never seen myself to grow up without a dad and you, being someone who should have been my mentor and someone to guide me the ways of life, have always been an important figure I didn’t wanna lose. I guess you did put a lot of lives down after you left us. I had to make sure I keep those around me happy. I couldn’t cry in your funeral and I’ve stuck to that attitude that I forgot how it feels like to actually feel sadness. I hated you so much only because I love you and I didn’t want you to leave us.

I have stopped going to your grave until last two weeks ago when Mom and Sis came back from Thailand. When I saw them, it made me think of you and the fact that they’re peaceful with my grandparents, I so wish you were here to see it. I remember how you used to hate how your wife doesn’t really get along with your parents. You should see them now. They’re friendlier than ever.

Dad, despite the fact that you cannot be there for me now, there are a lot of things you’ve taught me and things I would not have believed in unless you were around. I am grateful for these. Because of you, I believe in love. I’m with a good man now. I know how weird it is whenever I think of how you’ll react to me being with another person of the same gender as me but I know despite a slow process, you’ll love Craig. We’re trying to last as much as we can and I’m trying to work out everything I could to stay true to him and to last as much as I can with him. Because of you, I love kids and want to be a young dad. I guess I want to be just like you, a good dad.

I know you’ve left me way before you actually should and I forgive you. I’m also sorry I hated you for a while. I know it’s weird wishing you a happy new year but I would like to have your guidance as I’ve always craved (wherever you are) this year as well.

I love you dad.. I mean it!

H.

Worst business strategy ever

I would like to take this opportunity to celebrate the end of me taking four pills a time. It’s not a big deal but god it feels good to not have four elongated objects in my mouth to swallow. So, yes, yay!!

Remember that malaria affected-in-the-brain Indian cleaner lady in UN I was talking about last time? Well, I’ve reached the point where I’m getting a bit annoyed by her. Yesterday, MissMalaria came into our office room with a plate with pamelo on it. She asked us to eat it and then she said she would just leave it in our office room. Ok, I have to admit I could LOVE a person regardless of how unhygienic he/she is BUT I can be a bit of a hygiene queen. I think everyone is. Like, I would run on mud and eat food with someone’s spoon or slurp with someone’s straw but when it comes to diseases, things can get a bit gross. So, my colleague told me yesterday about how MissMalaria would peel a fruit. First, she would slice it and then with what’s left on the knife, she would lick her fingers which would be holding the knife. Then, she would also lick the other fingers she’d be holding the fruit with. Last time, I drank the lime juice she made for me with lots of courage but there was NO WAY this pamelo was gonna be in my mouth.

Today, she came in with Fried Noodle. The deal is no one orders anything but she would enter offices with things she’s done and people would buy it off her cos they feel bad. I mean, I do care about people’s poverty and I’ve done what I could. I gave her 3000 kyats for her medical charges once when she asked me but buying something I don’t want from her just because she would be selling it with the whole “but I’ve made it and it’s either you buy it or I lose” face does not really pluck my sympathy veins. So, I’m not sure who’s gonna be paying for the pamelo she’s left in the room and we all said no to her fried noodle. It’s just too much. It’s the whole habitual trait. Once you’ve done something, people keep wanting more.

The other thing that upset me today was how I couldn’t static probe my colleague. In high school, my classmate would take off his shoes, rub his socks with the carpet of our music class room and poke me with his finger and the next thing you know, I get zapped and laughed at. Today, I took off my shoes, rubbed it with the carpet on the office floor and probed my colleague and it didn’t work. Epic fail to the max!

Listening to: Paramore - Crushcrushcrush

Hot people get hurt too!

It feels so good to cry knowing there’s no one who’s good enough to make me feel better but myself. I cried til I ran out of tears. I cried until I was out of breath and gasping for air.

It started with a trip to my bathroom. It’s crazy but it’s been one whole week since I last used that bathroom since my mom and sis were the only ones using it when they were here. I guess they were afraid of excess baggage when they left or maybe toiletries were not that important but on the basin level, I saw Nivea whitening cream, a Pantene shampoo bottle and a Shokobutso body foam. The next thing I knew was tears streaming down my face. I went back into my room and saw the two pillows both Mom and Sis slept on. I hugged them tight and cried out loud. I miss them. I always try to be this brave figure to them all the time and after they left, I have been pretty much struggling not to let anything make me sad. I guess sometimes the best way to get over a sadness is to invite it in and embrace it. I guess I’ve let sadness in tonight and kinda made it dwell in my system. It felt better when my body got immune to this sadness and kinda made it normal. It’s ok to be sad and it’s ok to miss your mom and sister.

On another irrelevant note, I have to complain about something that I have been shrugging off. I have been a victim of my own pet hate and I refuse to take it from anyone. Yes, it might seem a bit hypocritical of me to do this but I rather people know this now than later. There’s NOTHING GOOD ABOUT BEING HOT!!!

Ok, when I was younger, fatter and probably acne faced, I used to have this huge appreciation for hot people and I would get totally disappointed when they’re single or when they have issues. I would see a hot person and I would be totally nagging them about why it was so hard for them to get over their partners or kinda hooked on a partner that’s not as good looking as them. I am NOT saying I think I’m hot but given I got called ‘hot’ more than 10 times this month, I could pull it off as a newb in that category. When I broke up with BooMan, I was messed up and I was practically ruined. Then, I started getting people interested in making me feel better, which I totally appreciate until they said the things they shouldn’t have. “He’s older than you!” “You’re way hotter!” “Oh! You’re hot and young; you have every reason to move on.” “You’re crying for this guy who’s not as hot as you”

Now, let me tell you something. I personally got drawn to BooMan on a shallow level. Before I got to know him in details, his heart, his personality, his grandmother kiss on vzo chat and other stuffs, I was hooked on him even though he strikes a great resemblance with Stephen Gately and I wasn’t actually a fan of Mr Stephen. Then, later, I got to know him and love him. BooMan turns me on on a ‘anytime’ basis and there was just no one who would turn me on like he would. I wouldn’t be sexually driven by or attracted to anyone, well maybe except porn stars and Ryan Reynolds. But, yes, I think he’s hot.

People think it’s so easy for good looking people to find love and just screw any living things in sight. It’s true there are cocky assholes out there living up to that reputation but like any other average or ‘lower than average’ looking people who could not get through a heartbreak, we, the so called hot people, have feelings too. It’s not easy getting over someone you have loved and lost no matter how older he can be, how not as good looking as you do according to your friends he can be or how uncool he could be. I think it’s disgusting when people think hot people are more fortunate than normal people.

This also applies to the whole ‘Oh! You’re a singer! You have fans’ comment. You guys have no friggin idea how I’ve craved for beer, missed eating dinner, wanted to run in the rain without people thinking I’m craving attention, yearned to enter a coffee shop without seeing at least one person whispering to his/her friend while staring at me and always looked forward to crying on a bench in the park without having people stare at me.

I admit. I’ve always wanted to be good looking and popular but I think there’s nothing different between ones who are popular and good looking and the ones who are not. We cry like you do. We binge eat like you do. Most importantly, we get hurt just like you would.

Listening to: Christopher Cross – Arthur’s theme

Lost no more

Holidays make me crazy and not in a good way. I just had enough of being unmotivated, depressed and pretty much pathless. It’s been a messy emotional rollercoaster to deal with break ups, make ups, work change or living up to someone’s expectations. Conditions have been cruel when I’m always having constant fear of failure at the most unfruitful time. Luck has been cruel when I’m faced with small mishaps linked with one another. I’m just at this point where I say to myself “Why do these thing happen to me?” and “Why the fuck not?” It’s not easy being in a long distance relationship, feeling insecure most of the times, not knowing what’s going on, not being able to be yourself in public, not being able to work in the right place at a right time, not being able to be with those you love and not being able to feel as much happiness or hope as you used to. But then again, it’s also not easy to live them on. So, I just had enough of being a moping sulking son of a bitch and it’s about time I chuck a ‘why not’ at my life.

So, today BigSis and I went to Shwedagon pagoda. Normally, we would cab it there but given I had my driver and my car today, we asked my driver to drop us off at a market and to wait for us at one of the wings. Ok, the pagoda is a huge circle if you should ever googlemap it. It has four wings, with parking lots, and the whole trip around the pagoda takes around one hour to go around it by walking at a normal speed. Each wing has a flight of stairs (approximately 80 steps or more) to reach to the top of the pagoda. The circumference of the top of the pagoda takes me 10 minutes to completely circle around it. The market is at one of the wings and that wing actually has twice the size of those 80 steps to reach from the very top until the market. I totally forgot how the market is an extended endpoint of one of the wings and treated that as one of the wing.

So, BigSis and I went up from the market wing, took 160 steps up to the top of the pagoda and 20 steps before the top (red line), BigSis and I gave our shoes in those shoe lockers. Then, both us went around and came back to the market wing, went down 20 steps to take our shoes(red line) and started heading towards the wing where my car would be parked. Actually, it’s parked at the SAME wing where we took off our shoes but thanks to my stupid sense of direction, BigSis and I took an hour circling three wings on foot on ground level(green line), until we got tired and took a cab (blue line) to take us to the wing where we departed off (the market wing) and there it was, my car parked in the parking spot with my driver wandering aimlessly where we both were. On a brighter note, it was a good exercise.

I’m not having the best time of my life. I want to get back to Sydney already and I think my life would ONLY start once I settle there. It’s not about the place but it’s more about settlement. I’m pretty much sick of moving around and living on hopes and depending on other people to feel brave about.

When I was five, my grand-dad went to the toilet while we were shopping. Since I was too busy checking out some toys, I lost my way and I started crying only to find out my grand-dad would be back to come pick me up after he comes outta the toilet. I felt the same with BooMan. I love him to death til the point I’ve depended on his being to the way I live. I forgot about my life and I forgot about reality. I don’t want to depend on anyone anymore. I’ll give him all I can, love him with all my might til I run out but I will have to start focusing on my life on my two feet from now on. I guess, finding my way around the huge pagoda for my carspot is a good start. At least, I found it after an hour.

Listening to: Mutya Buena – Real Girl

Deep sleep

I’ve always wondered what it would feel like to be in Freddy Kruger movies. The fact that you wake up from dreams, not knowing you’re still in your dreams. The movie “Inception” made the whole process seems more interesting.

Maybe it’s the aftermath of what I’ve done few days before but my brain seems numb and my memory’s beginning to fade. The good thing about all of this is the fact that I’m learning to forget my pasts as fast as I can. The better part is where I’m too tired to think about the future. But then again, the worst part is how I’m exhausted living in the present.

I felt like I woke up from a nightmare to kick myself back to reality when mom and sis got to Burma. Then, today, I woke up at five am and I noticed I had to take them to the airport. I do NOT like airports. Looking at how things are now, I don’t even know if I should like airports when I get back to Sydney. You get lost easily and people are just there to check you and remind you that bringing a bomb is bad. As usual, I felt ill the whole time I was in the airport. Numb usually. I saw my mom and sis crying but I chose to ignore it. I felt like I woke up from yet another dream to end up in another ‘nightmare-to-be’.

As I watched my mom and sis go, the chemicals in me started to fade as I started thinking about my past and future again. I recalled the time I was in Sydney airport when I had no choice to be sad or happy but just afraid to get back to Myanmar. Then, I thought about how things will work out if I ever get to Sydney again. Will I have anyone picking me up? Will I be able to get a job? Will I be lonely as before? Is this the last time I’ll see mom and sis for a long time? Where will I be when they come back to Burma again?

I closed my eyes and pinched myself hard, hoping this was yet another nightmare. But then I realized this wasn’t and it’s just the present state I’m in. Lost as ever and given up on hoping.

Black spade

Black Spade 

S. Hein

My energy withers,

as I lost my glow,

To everything, I dither,

Can't take things anymore.

I need an outlet now,

To numb the pain tonight,

If you could show me how,

I'll let you get inside.

A piece of block you are,

Melts on heated spoon,

I'll let you heal my scars,

And make me sleep til noon.

A piece of block I crave,

I'll need you again in me,

A piece of block that made

me numb my miseries.

Weak and fragile I've become,

Vulnerable to the bones,

Though you are a threat to some,

You are my only hope.

A piece of block you are

A piece of block you've got me far

A piece of block I'll always love

A piece of block, with you, I'll always be up above

I’m sorry I’ve let some down. I promise I won’t get addicted.

Lost

I can’t wait to drink again. It’s just this thirst that would be the only way to make me better. I’m not really sure what’s got into me but lately, I haven’t been satisfied with the way life is. Maybe it’s me losing patience on waiting to get my PR or have my album out. Maybe it’s the fact that I’m still doing the work that I’m not really enjoying that much. Maybe it’s the fear of losing my mom and sister in a few days and being left all alone in my room. Maybe it’s just me feeling a bit lost about my future since I’ve stopped planning.

I just feel like I’m walking alone on this road to nowhere. I used to be able to see obstacles from afar and I would be pretty enthusiastic to make plans to avoid them. I’m not really sure what this new feeling is but I’m just living the moment, which is pretty useful when I’m someone who gets easily let down by not living up to expectations but somehow I see myself losing grip of what’s to come. I don’t know what’s gonna happen. I’ve been fearing things I’ve never felt fear for. When asked to visualize them, I would have no clues what they are. I’ve also been numbing away from anything dramatic and pretty much not really open-minded to that’s happening around me.

I do feel alone. I used to think it was cool to have the Green Day’s song “walking alone” as my life’s theme song until I’m actually living every lyrics of that song. When will this nightmare be over and will there be anything to look out for once I wake up? Who knows?

Listening to: Natasha Bedingfield – These words

Headphones and a conniving bitch

Four headphones in a month. It’s been a hectic month for me and my headphone shop. The day I got back from Chaungtha, I lost my iPod and my headphone stopped working. So, I bought a new headphone and the wire broke when it got caught in the car’s door while I was closing it a week later. So, I bought my third headphone, to which I maneuvered the same ‘caught in the car door’ thingy once again this week. Then, the shop was generous enough to trade one for me though. So, they gave me a new headphone today, which turned out to be pretty messed up given the balance between left ear and right ear is unstable and the static noise would come randomly. So, I do not know what this indicates but I bought three headphones and traded one headphone in one month and this will be my fifth trade.

So Translator is a conniving two faced low class backstabbing colleague of mine, who’s been creating mutiny and causing lots of issue at work. I find this quite insulting and offensive because you have people like me, who’s had enough stress on their own but always try to keep a good atmosphere at work, and you have people like her, who would do ANYTHING at work to bring down the mood. It’s also quite stupidly uneducatingly foolish for her to have worked for the government, wished for democracy but she herself has not earned enough trust for herself or her trust with anybody else. She’s a major Hitler of our time and I have no respect and whatsoever sympathy for a hypocrite of a bitch that I found out she can be. I feel really horrible for those colleagues who have been pretty much having so much issues and pretty much having a row at each other because of what this conniving low standard can do. She twists words and she plays with people’s head. God, I’m glad she’s gonna leave UN-Habitat soon. I seriously do NOT need the presence of a low class hypocrite in my life..

Listening to: The Wombats – Kill the director

The end of fairy tales

Dog walking can be so tiring, especially when you have five out of six dogs who are craving for your love. Well, what about the sixth one? It started with twin white puppies and my driver ran over one of them with a red car. I guess the color red kinda inserted fear into the left of the twin and maybe I was wearing red when he first came to his senses, that dog hates my guts. He would just bark at me and run away whenever I chase after him. On the other hand, I was happy I was the centre of attention between PuppyGaga and TinyOne. They’re both UNtiny but when I play with PuppyGaga, TinyOne would growl and when I gave my attention to TinyOne, PuppyGaga would then become the growler.

The only best thing that came out of the office, apart from my colleagues feeling up my ass and rating my bums (yes, girls do that, people!!!), is the notion of who I really love. I mean, I used to believe in true love and real love and all that stuff. Then, I believed in going the extra miles; a self made card for Valentine’s Day and giving someone something you really cherish or value. I guess I’ve stepped to a different level when I’ve substituted my dreams of a perfect love life to an everlasting one with someone I’d want it with. Maybe I’ve come to my senses about how ‘being perfect’ is mythical and maybe I’ve matured on a skeptical ground, but I can say that I’m somehow a fighter who’s still fighting really hard for a love I’ve started and would never like to see it end. Sometimes, you gotta trade the most complex big things to get one simple thing:- the person you love.

I might not have the fairy tale kind of love or something anyone would dream of but I’m proud and pretty happy with what I’ve got. At least, I work hard to get it back with the one I love and I’m damn proud of that.

Listening to: Duffy - Mercy

Falooda day

I’m so stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid. So so stupid. (God, I love copy and paste)

I blame it on waking up at 4am to go to the monastery with my aunt from LA, sleeping in between time til I lost track of time zones and going to a wedding. Got lovestruck and ended up emailing my ex a love note. See!!! I told you that’s stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid. Thank God for copy and paste buttons. Oh apparently, my mom said I whistle when I snore. That’s new!

I miss drinking. This would be the perfect moment to drink. I quit drinking since my ex was asked to stop and to make me steadier in the ‘no drinking’ zone, I’m doing the 81 days Buddhism rosary beads more seriously this time round with 81 days of NO ALCOHOL. I need 32 more days of sobriety but how the fuck would I do that with so much insanity around me. I feel like I’m living on a thread with my ex, being I feel like this monkey on a stage trying to make the best of it by doing the ‘right’ things according to him and at the same time, one would expect me to be calm and cool without a sip of wine. That’s just evil. For today, I’ve substituted red wine with falooda, some Indian dessert made of ice cream and pudding. But if I keep doing that, I’m gonna be old Oprah in like three days.

To cherry top the situation, I stupidly wrote him an “I still love you note”. ARGGHHH now how will I ever check my emails without my hands shaking. Go go gadget copy and paste. Stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid of me.

Listening to: Cliff Richard – Some people

Mid-life crisis

If a blog was a traffic jam and I’m on a car on my way to work, today is the part where I whinge like an old cow who can’t give milk to its owner. Yes, I miss my ex. Can’t get him outta my head and the fact that my sister is doing a long distance relationship, checking her facebook and gmail in front of me kills me more. Sometimes, I wonder what he would be doing, how he would be feeling or how he could stay without talking to me while I twist and turn in my own misery. Ok, that was a lie. I might not be twisting and turning in my misery since I’m naturally not a sad kinda person for more than two days but I gotta admit my heart still burns like a tablecloth with hot coffee on it, spilled by some lousy clumsy lady.

So, my mom, knowing I’m gay and not ok with it but still supportive of my ‘twist and turn’ whingeing behavior, tried her very best to give me a pep talk. WHICH DOES NOT WORK. “I’ll find you a wife”. You know, I know my mom’s never to be a candidate in one of those ‘most tactful mother of the year’ award show but this was just tactless to the max. “Mom, I do NOT like vaginas”. She doesn’t care. She doesn’t want me to have a lonely life with a gay man without mini Heins. But Craig did believe in babies and maybe, another gay man would. Urgh. And this takes me back to a mid life crisis.

I’m not settled nor stable. So, people tell me to find someone new or fuck around. Well, given my career and the popularity of Hepatitis C in Myanmar, I find it hard to just kiss a commoner and get fucked cold with paparazzi; no, I’m not that popular but a column about a gay singer does come across a huge hit on newspapers stands. And find someone new? Are you kidding me? Let alone I can’t get rid of my ex in my head, how the fuck can I find anyone who would want me at this moment? A guy who’s waiting to get his PR to Australia and still on a temporary consultant position in UN, where he’s NOT happy working in. Seriously, I would never have dated me, let alone boyfriended me. So, the mid life crisis scares me to death and finding a new guy to get over things just bores me.

I mean, love does not just drop out of a mailbox like babies from pelicans. There isn’t any mythical thing about love. People die from it. People die trying to find it. People does not dare to formularize it. I really hate the fact that love is my weakness. I just can’t wait to be settled and maybe I can pay a boytoy to be my partner til death do us part and force his sperm to fuse with mine and live a single father life, trying to come up with stories to tell my kids about their mysterious mommy who wouldn’t exist.

God, I hate my life!!!!

Listening to: Fefe Dobson - Everything

My lifesavers

I’ll be honest. I haven’t been pretty much healthy mentally. I think letting go of my ex was harder than it seems. Sometimes, when I’m about to let go and think I can move on, something is always there to remind me of him. So, despite the two strikes I’ve hurt him with, I’m pretty much scarred everywhere in any ways possible and guess what. The whole stubborn side of me still loves him. Healthy much?

So, mom and sis finally came back to Burma. It’s a nice feeling to see them again and even better to see them at peace with grandma and my aunt. The whole family fued in the past was just too much to take and at some point, I would get worried about what was gonna happen when they cross paths again in the future. Today was the day and there was no sign of conflicts.

I came back tired from work, as usual, thinking of you-know-who. Then, my grand-dad asked mom to help with the raffle tickets. My aunt always buy all these cheap-o-last-season stuffs from LA and whenever she comes back, she would put raffle numbers on them and make everyone or every guest who comes to the event draw raffle tickets FOC. Oh, I forgot to mention they’re actually here for the “event”, where we invite monks to preach the house and we do good stuffs and all that. We call it “Ka htein” in Burmese language but I like to treat this as a Christmas, given every member of my family’s back around me.

Helping out with the tickets eased my mind. From what normally is a flight up the stairs to watch movies after work, I ended up sitting on the floor in the living room helping my mom out and having some family time. All these times, I know why I’ve been so down and been pretty much dependent on my ex. I was in need of a family life. It’s been a while and being around my mom and sis once again made me feel a bit better at heart. It kinda made me feel occupied and today, I was feeling a bit better than the few nights before.

Mom and sis slept in my room and having a mom and a sister who could be like best friends towards you is awesome. Mom’s a big fan of buying big when it comes to food and watching her unpack lots of food, which could fill up a candy store for a week, was fun and talking about sex with my sis was just fucked up, yet funny. Both mom and I are not convinced that sis has a good sex life. So, I ended up showing her some of my ‘straight’ porn while I munched on seaweed sheets from mom’s food store NOT watching with her. I love them and they kinda save my life. I’ve never felt this complete in my life since the day I’ve lost my ex.

Listening to: Steps – Chain reaction

Appreciations

It’s funny how my friend, KP, could come up with the best philosophy which could probably change my life. The funnier thing was how I could hear myself saying that to other people.

I went to KP’s house yesterday after work to record yet another episode of my radio show. After a car crash and my car breaking down, I was pretty much convinced that my life was at the lowest of the low. After the recording, KP and I sat down and had some menthol ciggies. I uttered out a bit of a truth I’ve been getting used to lately. My weakness. The usual happy Hein just couldn’t hold it back and I told him how breaking up with my ex has made me feel so alone in this world. This was when he said “You know what your problem is? You don’t appreciate what you have.” Now what he said works through different level.

DRR-DIAS Myanmar: Working in UN-Habitat, my main project is to work on a web-based assessment in a third world country, where the word ‘firewall’ is pretty common. Yesterday I encountered a huge error that caused me to halt the whole process. The worst thing was not knowing whether this error was caused by my wrong codes or the firewall which is not allowing things to happen. Worst of all, I’m not sure whether it’s the firewall from the UN or the country itself. Now, come to think of it, there are many people out there around me who’s jobless and who would die to work in the UN. Why is it so hard to accept that I was lucky enough to actually be working on an assessment that means something, despite the fact that it won’t work or not.

Album pending: I still have yet to finish my album which has been taking more than a year now. My comeback after five years and my fifth album in the making, I was excited until all shit hits the fan and my music mixer is pretty much avoiding my phonecalls. Yes, it’s pretty unprofessional of him but there are people out there who wants to sing live on stage, let alone have an album out. Why is it so hard to accept that I was lucky enough to actually be working on an album, which has been criticized by a lot of other professionals as a good breakthrough?

Love life: My ex has been my biggest lost of the year. Worst of all, it was because of me. A monogamous gay man who believes in having a family and who’s held onto me despite the distance, I kept wanting more from him til the point that it was almost impossible for him to be able to give more. Now, I’m left to square one with no one in sight and pretty much with no intention to actually even get back to wanting a somebody to hold me tight, wake up with or kiss just cos I feel like it. Despite the fact that the ghost of my ex still haunts me to sleepless nights and a sudden change in my social calendar full of cancellations for parties, why is it so hard to accept that I was lucky enough to have experienced a love so true and good when a lot of people out there has ONLY written or dreamt about the love that I’ve shared with him? Let alone that, with what I’ve learnt from my mistakes, I’m pretty confident that I wouldn’t repeat the same mistake again in the future.

I got a good life, a good family, an exciting unseen future and a good present which could enhance that. Although there are a lot of things I could still wish and hope for, isn’t it time I’m happy just being the way that I am? My ex boss slash best sister in Sydney once asked me if I were happy in Burma to which I’ve answered ‘no’ to. She told me it was important to be happy where I was no matter where it is cos I could just come back to Sydney and be sad like I was with my uni life. With so much potential to have such negative things happening around me, I’ve grabbed hold of the fact that I still have the brighter side to which I could learn to get used to.

KP amazes me sometimes. Thank you!

Listening to: Simply Red - Fairground

Dominique

Being single and out of a five stars relationship is unhealthy when you have old women coming at you to ask if you’re married or not. “Are you married?” Whenever I said ‘no’, they would talk about their daughters. Three women had done that and one of their daughters is actually married. Now, who would talk about a married daughter to an available bachelor?

Five days ago, I was at a consultation and I saw this REALLY hot young man; yes, they’re rare in humanitarian consultations. So, there were around four foreigners and other twenty plus locals. I was in charge of copying the presentations onto their flash drives. One of them has the name “Dominique” on it and my colleague got all excited and asked me to try to give it to that young man. Since I didn’t see him after the consultation, I checked out his drive to find out a CV. I later found out that “Dominique” is a name of a chick but I got a phone number from there, to which I’ve called and Jeramo (his name) would come and collect the flash drive from me soon.

Today, one of my colleagues placed this huge fat flower on the top of my right ears and took pics of me. She thought it was funny; I was just bored and didn’t do anything about it. The flower got used to the skin and I forgot it was there and Jeramo entered the room to ask for the flash drive. He did not turn out to be that fine looking young man but the bald head “I thought he was” Italian who was sitting next to the prince charming. I noticed he wanted to laugh and then I noticed I had this huge flower on top of my right ears. Double epic fail!!!!

Maybe it was because of the flower but I heard that he crashed into a car in our UN compound car park after his trip to get his flash drive from the weird guy with the flower on his head. It’s not like I could do anything with any man at this moment anyways, with my pathetic mindset still fixated on my ex, but hey I can freely say “FML” for this day.

Listening to: Stereophonics – Have a nice day

Diplomacy vs. fake politeness and the hunt for white pussies

Myanmar has this term “Aar nar de” (when translated means ‘hurts energy’), which literally means one feels bad. It actually was invented to boost politeness but somehow society has been misusing such words until it makes the word ‘diplomacy’ sound way more easy-listening. So, you’re working and someone higher than you on a hierarchical level asks you to do something before you can actually refuse. Diplomatically, one would try to be open and the best type would go for win win. Look, I got a huge pile of work but I’ll look into it. When’s the deadline? Maybe, I can pencil it in after this pile of work. Some honest people would just refuse, which would be the best choice but let’s stick to politeness at the moment. In terms of ‘energy hurt’, one would say ‘yes’, maybe after a short pause, and actually would bitch to his/her colleagues about how he didn’t want to do it and he only accepted it because he feels ‘energy hurt’. So, later on, he/she would be asked to do more while the asker misestimate his capacity and before you know it, work stress kicks in and BAM, the bottled up princess in him/her would swerve into a bitcharoo of crap talks and bad communications.

BubbleGum, a smiling man who knows how to get his ways by diplomacy, and Hawaiian, a mellow Burmese man who doesn’t know how to say ‘no’ while stuck on a hierarchical ladder. BubbleGum is an analyst from India and Hawaiian is a research expertise from Myanmar. Both men of the same level of abilities and experience meet me, a pretty polite bitch, might I add, also good looking compared to other bitches.

The background of it all is Hawaiian who had accepted to do work for BubbleGum despite the fact that he doesn’t really favor it. Before BubbleGum got to Myanmar, I ended up being the pimp daddy between these two. As a focal point in Myanmar, I ended up being seen as an easy man to clear clouds for BubbleGum, which he was very grateful for. A bitch at its best I was, I managed to bitch about Hawaiian to BubbleGum as soon as he got here. I mean, come on, who would actually give a questionnaire in Myanmar language to an Indian man, assuming he could sort things out on his own. BubbleGum is not dumb but seriously Hawaiian is a dumbass who thought BubbleGum would learn Myanmar language miraculously. So, I told BubbleGum about Hawaiian trying to sigh or be really unfriendly towards queries I’ve given, which I have derived directly from the man itself.

The meeting today was funny. You got BubbleGum with his diplomacy and I could kinda sense him praising me more than usual. I’m a natural blusher (despite the ACTUAL blush not appearing on my cheeks) but I just sat there with my arms folded with a face an English man would make on a biscuit tin box. The whole “Schmuck, I rather finish my crumpets while you wait to get me to do what you asked for” look. Everytime BubbleGum complimented, Hawaiian would cause this epic fail to look me in the eyes and would nod subconsciously without any verbal agreement. The funnier thing was how Hawaiian has this behavior of a sidekick to BubbleGum. “Yes, professor, I should learn more from you”. Now, you tell me if Robin would shut up if Batman told him that BatGirl is awesome. Given Robin is not jealous, he would agree and compliment the compliment. I caught Hawaiian’s eyes once in a while and he would look away. Coward, I wasn’t really impressed. After the meeting, BubbleGum told me how he was doing everything on purpose and how it was fun to make Hawaiian feel so awkward everytime BubbleGum complimented me. If I had counted right, he complimented me not less than five times.

So, diplomacy vs fake politeness. I rather chuck white lies to go for win win as opposed to lying at the first stage to only have to be awfully awkward when facing the music. Speaking of awkwardness, rather eccentric, BigSis asked me to hunt for a white pussy. Ok, fine, she did say ‘kitty’ but I think the flow ‘pussy’ sounds way funnier. So, as a present for her boyfriend, she decided to give him a white cat, which he also wanted. The hunt for a white pussy is not really that difficult since I have two stray white pussies who kept coming into my house. I could just hunt them down and hand them over to BigSis. However, in hopes of not fucking up my hernia-surgerized stitches while running after pussies or picking them up, I do worry about not being able to make it to getting her those two pussies before Christmas. Later, I found out that BigSis’s boyfriend does not like patches on white pussies and he wants a plain white pussies. White pussies in Myanmar is like Wally. I’ve never seen any white pussies before. It would either have a patch of gold, brown or black here and there. So, farewell to my pussy hunting mission, which would save my rank as a pooftah and also save my hernia stitches from exploding.

Listening to: My Chemical Romance - Cancer

BubbleGum’s preys

I have a love/hate relationship when it comes to medications. Typical as it may sound, my prescription list after my surgery was a bit too long to memorize. With this amount of external chemicals inside my body system, I get hungry easily; well, mostly weak. Then, since some of the medicines must be taken after or before a meal, I end up finding an excuse to nibble on something despite my inner Hein asking me not to eat during the ‘you cannot jog in the evenings’ phase. Sorry, innerHein, I have to nibble on this bag of potato chips or I can end up foamed up like an overdosed celebrity. So, after a bag of potato chips, I had the right mood to blogify my new document of MicrosoftWords.

Excuse my lack of blogging during my PMS era but I forgot to mention BubbleGum is FINALLY in town. The analyst who I was supposed to help with was in town since last week. I was happy about his happy face despite his angry tone on emails. Emails are just so ever-deceiving; reading this, BooMan? Then, I got to learn how passionate this Indian expert is. Having worked with people like ToyBoss and BigSis, passionate colleagues are a major thumbs up and BubbleGum somehow managed to grab the ‘most impressive colleague of the month’ trophy despite his one week stay. I blame the system I was working under. Seriously, too much meetings, gentlemen!!! Where art thou, o’ God of Implementation? So, back to BubbleGum, he’s full of philosophies and he would start a sentence with ‘there’s a saying in ….’. It’s a wonder working with him but just like any Indian people who I’ve met, he’s not afraid to bargain.
“There you go, sir, I got this done”.
“Oh can you do this one more thing? You’re doing a great job!!”

I swear I have a Chinese blood in me but flattery gets me anywhere and I’m gonna quote what he said “Swe, your involvement has caused a QUANTUM LEAP and it has given me hope on my assessment”. Now, you give me one god-damn reason why it’s not fun to impress this man. BubbleGum and his way of getting things, such a passionate man and nice to work with.

Ok, here comes the BUT part. He happens to work in the meeting room which is the room beside our disaster risk ‘not really’ reduced small for 8 people office room. Given the water cooler is in the meeting room, it’s a huge chunk of challenge for us to get water whenever we’re thirsty. Some of us swallowed our saliva; some tried to swerve distraction to the fact that the internet is slow; some ignored it. Thirst is ONE thing our DRR room was not really humble about. We find ourselves scared shitless to go to the meeting room where BubbleGum is to get water from the water cooler.

There was even a mutiny of those ‘have gone to the meeting room’s who would ask help from those in the room who hasn’t gone under the arms of BubbleGum’s death wreath. MissMyanmar was the last victim to be asked to fill a cup of coffee and a water bottle while quenching her own thirst. BubbleGum hesitated at first and we were quite surprised but I think it was because of the time taken to fill the coffee cup and the water bottle, she was finally yet another prey of BubbleGum’s babbles.

He talks and talks and talks and talks and the worst thing is while he talks, he finds more tasks for us to do. With Maltesers and Angel on vacation (given they play pretty major roles in our office), minor tasks and small talks were not pretty much welcomed especially when one is trying to quench his/her thirst. If you think I’m exaggerating, get this. This is mainly because I have a huge appetite for H2O, I now know the South African handshake, BubbleGum’s wife’s favorite color for a laptop, Indian geography, Punjabee language and a lot more. All thanks to BubbleGum’s babbles whenever I would be filling my water bottle and not to forget the load of small tasks asked to do on my way back to my office cubicle.

He’s a great man and I highly respect him but I wish to see him next at a picnic as opposed to our ‘ever busy’ office room.

Listening to: 3oh!3 – Starrrstruck (feat. Katy Perry)

The trade

There’s no hero in life. There’s no such thing as a savior. There’s no hope, nor justice. What’s right or wrong? Can we swerve the views of others to another side of one’s point of view? You got yourself though.

Some people try to save lives. Some try to save their loved ones. Some countries. Why bother going for a large population when you can’t even save yourself?

During my stay at the hospital, after they put me to lose consciousness, I noticed I wasn’t really fit to make a choice in life. I was depressed before my surgery. I didn’t even know whether it’s right or wrong to have it.

What started from a post-break up depression ended up in turmoil of never stopping domino effect of bad things one could ever imagine. Of course, people at war would see mine as a minor case. But, given the circumstances I was in, I felt pretty much dead when my checkup told me I had a viral count of 10 to the power 5 for hepatitis B inside of me, which could lure to liver cancer if I hadn’t done this check up. Then, the stomach acid reflux, which I got from the post break up, combined with work stress and the inevitable feeling of losing grip on things in life; my album pending, works piling and losing hold of someone you truly love, I ended up with hernia detected. The doctor suggested immediate surgery and all I could do at that moment was nod my head and said “If it’s for the better, I would do anything.” I have always wanted to give up in life but this time, I couldn’t really see the point of giving up. I felt like I’ve lived through hell and there was no turning back and nothing worse would make justice. So what if I let myself die? My funeral would be grand but a week later, I’m just a page in an obituary.

Waking up and gaining consciousness, the nurses let me up but since my wounds weren’t stitched, I woke up in my hospital gown to have blood flowing down my legs. I hate blood. I felt helpless but at that split second I just know that this is just yet another ball thrown in my face; yet another block of domino on its way down with the impact from the others behind it that had fallen.

I regained sanity today at work after a surgery, a break up, losing work and my pending album work. I’m not a loser. I’ve come this far to lose it all. There was only one way to start anew.

I’m kinda glad my boyfriend was pretty much unimaginably supportive when I got back to chatting to him. Seeing his chatbox pop up made me think of my past. I bit my lips and I tried to talk normal but I tried my hardest to be as honest as I could. I can’t do it as friends. I can love him as a person but the fact that I’ve committed myself to a love I have never felt for anyone will not really be able to suffice me being his friend. I was surprised when he said we’re still on. A pity fuck online? A good future promise? Not caring to read between the lines, I left the office room and cried in the toilet. I looked down at my work shirt and I saw blood stains on my work shirt from the tucked in part where the iodine had stained with the left over blood from my stitched wound.

This is it for me. With a healed heart with a boyfriend with a past and an uncertainty for the future, with two stitched holes in my body, with two hands tired from catching up with work and with a sense of patience and business talk to convince my mixing engineer to work faster, I was once ready again to be reborn. This was my only way of getting back up.

I was an insecure bastard full of pride, who’s taken comfort in taking the negativities of my genes. My mother’s insecurities, my father’s careless way of living life, my grandmother’s suicidal habits and my grand-dad’s anger. I was ready to trade those for the best strength I have in every bones of my body.

Lack of grudge from my mother, my dad’s happy-go-lucky sense of humor, my grandmother’s bravery and my grand-dad’s persistency. I am not saying my life is gonna be a bed of roses but I just know that I’m able to fight anything that comes to me with these. I have to admit I feel a bit weak at the moment but once these wounds heal, just watch me shine. I’m gonna shine for the real person that I am and not for people to think “Hein is a cool person”.

I’m a nice person. About time I live up to it.

Listening to: Secondhand Serenade – World turns