Mind Whack

I haven’t been producing good postings. This writer’s block with lack of sleep and annoyance that result bothersome attitude just trying to keep awake. It becomes a mean cycle that brings to being mean. Yes, I agree. I suck too. Meddle in the muddle.

So I have been cooking. Penne carbonaras that bothers my dad because he says penne makes him feel he’s eating air unlike non-straw like other pasta types. Then fried brinjal in chili. Pizzas using base of sliced bread.

What I didn’t was how a lasagna could reveal another degree dimension of me in the kitchen. The lasagna that I was so tired when making it, bridging with giving up and ugly cry + throwing everything to hit everything else in the kitchen. Of course I didn’t do it. Although I visually could see it clearly going in slow motion as my brother quips, “Yeay, lasagna!” I was mentally doing it. You know, throwing all wooden spoons and whisks. It was a very difficult and emotional process for me.

James Arthur’s Say You Won’t Let Go is playing. It makes me feel I’m walking in a dress, denim jacket and cowboy boots walking hand in hand with him in the park entering autumn. It’s so front page of 90’s Teen Magazine. All adverts on Keds, daisies and smiley floral dresses. My imagination is constantly in fall. The mix of tenderness in green, floral remnants and brown. I easily identify with it I suppose. I was born in fall.

It’s still a long way to where my mind brings me to be made into reality, but it’s okay. Time will tell. If not now, then maybe very much later.

Oh by the way, we went out last night and I did hear something drop when we got to the house. I settled in getting things in and making me coffee with aching heel and feet. Then I couldn’t find my phone. It got me grumpy when non of the kids owned up. How hard could it be to put my feet up in the foyer with a mug of hot coffee and cigarettes while playing Rising Super Chef 2? Tell me, how hard? HOW HARD? Life is hard. Times are hard. ((HUGS))

Well, obviously I had to walk around the house to find them too a few times. Like, I’ve asked them and they said no but they’re kids so what do they know. Interrogate them we must! Then made them call the phone – the line was dead, so great – yeay! Walked upstairs and downstairs and inside and out from the kitchen to the yard. Checked the car twice. With aching heel and feet. I couldn’t find it. I even took out garbage from within the car.

“Mom, I think I heard something drop in the car. It could be it you know”.

I went, “Pfffft… I checked the car and it’s not there!” while internally going through an ugly cry. I’m a bad mom. I don’t care. Who cares about my aching feet anyhow?

Then DH said, “I think it did probably fall in the car, hon; just like Adam said.” Pfffft. To both of them.

So I went back to car. Slowly. Like the slowest sci-fi movie you’ve ever watched. Yes, sci-fi. Reached out my hand in the side pocket of the passenger seat in darkness. Cosily it had been sitting there for the longest time. Just playing hide and seek. You know, I don’t like playing that game. Especially not at night. But what does it know, right?

Well of course the screaming died down. No one bothered to ask if I had found it. I guess it was obvious that I had found it because the screaming stopped completely. Right? And who would in their right mind want to try and ask if I did find it, being at risk of being screamed at if I still had not found it. Right?

Oh my I’m so completely whack… Haha.

So, I’ve got some tiny bit of work left before the weekend. Paid some bills and sorted my brain. Woke up late but got here not in time with some excuse of having family matter that I just had to attend to.

For some reason I feel refreshed and need to put a photo of fuchsia roses in this post. Lovely photo. I hope you feel the same way too.

Invigorating.

dsc_0700

The Daily Post Prompts | Imaginary | Distant | Tender | Revelation | Triumph | Puncture | Create | Blossom | Relieved | Meddle | Loop

Mind Whack

Sulky code names. Crap.

Today didn’t suck too much. But it was a sulky day.

SIL3 text me. Found out Turd BIL4 has not renewed the car insurance and road tax so his family has been driving the car under my name around. So because of this, BIL4 has been using his parents’ CAR1 these few weeks.

Just yesterday, SIL1 was wondering when she will get back her car.  PIL has borrowed hers but yet to return. They have 2 cars, CAR1 is under my DH’s name, and CAR2 was gifted by BIL1. CAR1 is with BIL4 and CAR2 is at the workshop.

I feel this heartbreak of disappointment. Him, jobless. Wife is expected to fend for the family. MIL should be pressuring him instead of the wife. Making her take random jobs like massaging and controlling how she wants to manage it. Come on. She is SAHM. She just can’t adjust time to fit your whim and fancy. Besides, your son is the man of the house. He is responsible for his family’s livelihood. Why aren’t you asking him to try?

DH and I had just been talking about this the night before. We were going to take it back in July. Just about 1 week after school starts again.

We have been helping SIL4 and her kids. Why is he there taking charity? No sense of shame? No pride to adjust? No… push to evolve instead of playing in the fields 6 hours of the day that brings absolutely no income into the household at all?

I prayed that he be given enough to provide and repay all that he has taken from. But my fear is always that, if it comes, he doesn’t.

Everything is so literal. I’m making no attempt to hide (except my identity).

Observantly, this is the best time for us to take back my car. The one I have been paying for 22 months. I will allow DH take the lead. As he had been the one to let go on my behalf, he will retrieve it back.

I feel a tonne of weight off my chest.

Thank you.

Sulky code names. Crap.

Prettier gardens

I am trying to find a sense of sustainability for the center of me. It is a steep, trashy, muddy road. Always find mine sluggish. Quicksand that I miraculously just stand over and not get sucked into the earth. I punish myself sometimes. Reprieve as I go. It is a cycle.

Life turns itself slowly especially with a struggle because you need to learn to leap blindly in faith that you will be okay. It scares the sh*t out of me. Something out of balance although prominently enough inside I know I need to trust myself that life isn’t monotonous, IT IS going somewhere. Only I am so stubborn to notice, acknowledge and move.

Roads need to be paved to be made into highways.

~ momsthetruth ~

It is clearer destination that I see. It is going somewhere. Words spoken are without jagged fences of defensiveness. More like flowers edging the boundaries. I receive them, and help to make the gardens organised. Prettier. With a flow. Rainbow explosions.

Maybe we can build a house in the meadow.

I only hope the garden will flourish. One day it will have an orchard of fruits and horses and cats. One day.

Survive | Reprieve | Infuse | Radiate | Detonate

Edit: Redundancy of sentence.

Prettier gardens

You’re dismissed, woman.

I wish I could catch up and individually write up The Daily Post Prompts. I can’t manage it. I’m just sorting out my own internal issues. My emotional bag can only fit a certain much. It has, there are just too many conversations, considerations and feel in it to be known with.

Seriously, sometimes I am frustrated with myself. Like how silent I can be when DH is around just because he physically makes me less anxious, worry-wart and calms all my brain agitations.  But how cruel enough to have all frustrations when he’s not around, telling myself that I AM, WILL, SO GOING TO TELL HIM HOW I FEEL ‘RIGHT NOW’ WHEN I SEE HIM and it just all descend into nothingness when he is around.

It absolutely unfolds itself in the sequence of this…

giphy1
“I’m so telling him right now! NO! I mustn’t. But I need to. NO! NO! MUSTN’T. MUSTN’T, MUSTN’T, MUSTN’T.” Mutiny, this.

 

giphy2
Oh woman. Just eat it in. Sh-sh-sh… Just eat them all in. It’s not the right time. Yet. It’s okay. You can do this. Swallow. Quietly. Be still, my heart.

 

giphy3
Then I forget what it was; or… I want to tell him, and I don’t know how… The qualms when I do, with only 3% is delivered…

 

giphy4
And the 3% that comes out, so professionally approached. Emotionless. And ultimately, how I disgrace myself with me. I’m a piece of sh*t.

 

This self inflicted notorious farce cycle repeats itself. So violently.

But yesterday was different. My level of self-tolerance was short. I had to endure the bantering from his friend’s wife for her receiving late-payment notification letter from the bank for something that is registered under her name that DH took on – I had nothing to do with. Unwillingly I put on the superhero cape on, stood on the precipice, borderline on my borderlines, and took it on. I was crap. I sent him a message that took so much longer to get through the thick forest.

When finally it did, he responded to my question and tells me their 4WD for forest trail has broken down so they’d be coming home on a tow-truck. He asks me to pick him up at a spot. He gave the time. I got there on time because he has established this thing about having his expectations met vs my short-comings (i.e. lateness) (with ongoing things like traffic jam, no vehicle available, having to stop for gas, my need to have a cigarette first, the cat wants suicide by refusing to move away from the driveway, my lack of motivation, repetitive explanation of things that only got half-sentenced into his head each time I say them where I then begin to shout thinking because my voice is too small and then he thinks I’m so rude to raising my voice to him (WTF hahaha), apart of having to manage 3 kids to handle/argue/negotiate/scream/listen to beforehand).

I waited. They ran 15 minutes late.

It was hot, borderline thirsty, hungry, borderline grumpy. You could still feel the heat even in air-conditioning.

The car radio has been broken for the past few months and the CD has been playing the same series of song for over and over since December 2016. So I shut the CD player down. Sick of it. I meddled with my phone and played on Spotify out loud enough to satisfy myself. With limited headroom decision, I began talking to myself, singing, screaming, going under emotion and above it. I entered my Digistive Zen moment. Restless fat feeling with low libido but ready to scratch some walls from being under serviced. Yes, THAT feeling.

He finally came through, got in the car, and had to ask (Well, I felt like, it was A QUESTION, really), “Why are you playing on Spotify?”

…I mean, he had to ask right; because he has got a functioning radio in his pickup truck, right? Is there no logic to why I chose to Spotify myself? So I should be okay listening to the same thing each time I drive like, EVERY TIME, right? I wasn’t asking him to listen to what I chose to listen in the first place. And every time I make a decision is always the one that leaves no room for him to comment because I am the only decision-maker for it, right – because he is not present. And the rest of the other sinister things I digested in my head just shat through. He had unmoored, unleashed the beast in expressionless me (which I know is even more scarier in the I-have-no-sh!t-clue-of-what-may-happen-after-this category) with just that one question. So do so kindly receive my hospitality, final sentence and load of crap – take it like a man.

But really, to think what it took for me to be able to just say it! All the feelings, endurance, patience, dissatisfaction, worry, unhappiness… I mean, being able to draw out what I stored in my emo bank crap was WONDERFUL! But to think that it all had to be in collaboration with 5 days of water-cut to be able to be out in one sitting is like… I mean, I had to be under that intensity scale to actually be able to literally throw myself up to him! It took so much and so long…

I’m just this maze of sad stuff, isn’t it? Be like…

giphy5

Yeah woman. You’re dismissed.

You’re dismissed, woman.

The strength that is lost, is really the strength that you will find

As my first marriage crumbled, I lost sight of who I was. Losing a marriage is never about you alone. It breaks you for you to find your own definition.

Ying Ying: Losing him does not matter. It is you who will be found – and cherished.

– The Joy Luck Club by Amy Tan

New life was filtered layer by layer. You will learn who your real friends are, the ones worth keeping; and discarding the ones who choose to weaken, harm and destroy you. You will learn that ‘no mercy’ is necessary for yourself. I shutdown pointless relationships and found that people were more interested in finding out what happened. In the end, it was I whom had to relieve their disappointments to my ended marriage. Sad.

Ms Rock held me close to her heart. She brought me out shopping even when I had little money to spend on. We spent hours with coffee and endless conversations. We played free makeup at Sephora and tried on random clothes and shoes that we didn’t have to buy. She helped to make me feel like a little girl again. It’s like hopping onto the pedestrian crossing’s white lines only, leaving painted hand prints all over the walls of wherever I was and getting high over cotton candy and ice cream in the wide open park.

I remember coming home and ask myself, “How can I forget that I love shoes?”

Much later, “How can I forget that my favourite colour is fuchsia?” “How long ago have I put myself in the backburner?” “Did I ever had any intention of regaining myself back?” “Would I have ever realised what I had left behind?”

How could I have forgotten, about me?

I have always loved the shade of bright deep shocking pink. The colour is so nutritious for me and it makes me happy. For every dull day, I will pull that one plain fuchsia scarf and it makes me feel right in all the darkness of black, dark navy blue and gray thingamajig that I wear to work. It just binds and makes it become me.

708_ostrich-color-chart

I have never seen the fuchsia flower before. We don’t have this flower here where I live. It would probably die in the heat. So I’m packing this up into my bucket list – Something to See List.

fuschia_by_kayanu-d5unc6f
Photo Credit: kayanu.deviantart.com

You don’t always get what you want, but you often get what you need.

Strength isn’t given to you. It’s something that you have to build up inside yourself. To do that you have to fearless to ask for help. Fearless enough to accept rejection. Fearless enough to learn to be shameless because being shameless is the only way for you to learn what’s good and what’s bad for yourself. Be fearless to choose and pave your own path. Ultimately, fearless to free-falling.

Truth be told, strength is knowing what to lose and what to keep.

I choose to love myself.

The strength that is lost, is really the strength that you will find

Mind Afloat

Her life now is practically just ferrying the kids for classes and extra classes, work and swimming. She is keeping low for now as she don’t have much to spend on. This is why her trips to the supermarket is so cherished that she takes time to inhale all the colours and the need to caress with her eyes on all the fresh food and fruits there is.

It is a practically better lifestyle than she has had before; when she had more money to spend on. She would be propped at the shopping mall every other weekend and spending on lunch, tea or dinner whether or not she bought anything there. The exposure is more on all the in-trend things and nice-to-haves. Yes, it all sounds great, but she realizes that not having much has kept her more grounded than before.

The kids were most exposed to things that they shouldn’t be celebrating about. Now, it’s more about, “Have you gone up trekking that hill yet?” or “Let’s see if this can work out as a game” or pushing her to bring them swimming even at her lowest point of sadness. They are aware of what they are able to afford. Swimming doesn’t need anything. They only have to bring their own biscuits and fun.

Sadness that she has. She wants to change it to become something else. Inwardly planning a holiday in her head that she wants to give them.

It will happen, she knows it. Once in forty times you pray for it, it will come true.

She only knows that she will make it happen. Even if it takes more time than she’d like to.

Mind Afloat

This Dream Last Night

Last night, I had a dream of a black full hand sized scorpion on my left lap as I sit. It began to attack my left thigh insistently. My jeans were thick enough although only 2-3 pricks got through the numerous tries. I took my daughter’s big red hardcover storybook and slammed it onto the thing twice before being woken up by my husband.

My mouth reads a prayer and I spit to my left as I should every time after waking up from a bad dream. I did this three times. Fell back to sleep.

The dream meaning is horrendous. Backbiting by a person whom I feel is loyal but really, my enemy. Also, black magic or by some other bad intention towards me. The bigger the scorpion, the higher level of person it will be. To think about it, I have been there before stuck in those kind of situations. But never to dream of a scorpion. The thought of it while looking through various interpretation panicked me silently.

As I settled the morning routine, I found 3 cat poop all over the second floor. I thank God for parquet and cleaned them up. It is not normal. I don’t know if the 3 poops is equivalent to the 3 times I recited prayer and spit. I really don’t.

Oh dear spouses all over, please make sure you clean yourself up, even better to bathe after long travels, or working in weird places or having to pass through weird places. The ones waiting for you at home might be getting the end of what you don’t know what you accidentally string along with on your way there.

So I wait. (I really don’t know what to think but I’m seriously having trust issues right now.)

Global Dream Interpretation of a Scorpion

This Dream Last Night