Home or something like it

reedited to be more emo than originally intended. you have been forewarned.

Unless you have the perception and observation skills of a zombie who's brain has rotted due to exposure to the elements, yes Im back in Malaysia. I won't say that I'm glad to be back. I mean yeah, I'm on familiar grounds again, with familiar faces and a familiar routine. And I'm beginning to hate it. I hate the weather, the not quite adequate internet speed and a very very limited cable/satellite tv channel selection that really doesn't have to give a damn about paying customers and are free to charge whatever they want because of a lack of competition, i.e. a fucking monopoly. I also hate the fact that I'm not adjusting to well to the hermit, independent lifestyle which I had before I left. The whole bills and general household upkeep bullshit which I was free of for a blissful 1 1/2 months. But, life goes on I suppose. It has to.


Yeah, I think it's safe to admit it now. I miss my mom. A lot. I actually cried when I heard her voice on the phone, despite telling myself before that I wouldn't. I don't know why. I guess, after not seeing her for a couple of years, spending all that time with her, I felt that maternal connection that I missed all those years just come back again. I was just so used to doing without, it's just a shock to the system, and now that it's gone again, I feel nothing but a big empty void. And that brings me to tears. Shit, even as I type I can feel that lump in my throat and the welling up of tears. I just really miss my mom... I miss the lost years of coming home to see my mom cooking mee siam because she knows its my favourite. I miss the fact that she used to send and pick me up from school and always told me she loved me no matter how much of a bastard brat I was being that given day. I miss her ability to inadvertently or not, make me laugh, sometimes at her, or with her, but regardless she made me laugh. I missed how she used to, and still does, move heaven and earth to make me happy, whether as a snot nosed kid or today as a emotionally fragile manchild. I miss her reassurances that everything's going to be ok and that how everything she has ever done, fucked up divorce and a cheating husband, inevitable difficulties and uncertainties at moving and settling in a new country and all, everything was and always will be done in the best interest of her children. I hate how much of a bastard I can be to her because I just can't deal with my emotions and take it out on her. And she still loves me inspite and despite all the bullshit I've done that would have made mothers made of lesser steel lift their arms up to the heavens and curse them for such an ungrateful child. I know it's a little early now, a week actually, but I just wanted to wish you Happy Mother's day mom. I miss you and love you.

In connection to that, I've tried to hide these feelings, show that I'm a big man, that I'm not the emotional train wreck that I so clearly am. And I fear civil and ofttimes heart warming gestures with an old and dear acquaintance have been irrevocably damaged again, and it may be that the path to redemption or something like it has been lost forever, despite bridges that had been so lovingly restored, only to be crushed in the violent and capricious tempest that is my character flaw in being, as she termed it, sticky to the point annoyance. It was, in the end a facade behind a facade. I countered, jousted and brought that mistakenly assumed intelligent mind to fore in the fare thee well speech, in an effort to seem less sticky, annoying and above all clingy, to show that I've changed, that I'm not the man she knew all through all those 10 years. I was trying so hard that I inevitably became everything that I dreaded to become. I was needier than ever. I hid the underlying cause of simply wanting a shoulder to cry on, as I've done on countless occasions for her, though she seems to forget this, or rather, thinks my flaws far outweigh those occasions of tenderness and support. Plain fact of the matter is, I was wrong. My defenses crumbled, my own motto Veritas Nunquam Perit and Quarae Verum were lost in a speech that was impassioned for all the wrong reasons. Yes, I deserved to get slapped with my own words. It seems the adage "The road to hell is paved with good intentions" rang and rung in a crushing crescendo in a domino effect that is my loosing control of my emotions and the shit hitting the fan. I don't know what happens now. I don't even know myself.

Rest assured I've cried more times than I can remember just writing this damn post.

All is dust..