The glorious and triumphant return of now-19 year old Blogger, the revival of a once-grand and dare I say influential webspace that produced daily content, and the crippling anxiety of a young woman who no longer has any time or motivation to write, and feels like any ability she had acquired in the past through repetition and sheer will alone is now slowly slipping out of her grasp. Brief history of the Blog and Blogger can be found here.

Here be personal journal entries, observations, slices of life, questions and conclusions, as well as exploration of social and political topics seen through the lens of a Malaysian Muslim, feminist, lesbian, Marxist, and horse enthusiast.

Friday, February 17, 2012

Lay Down Arms

Saturday was such a chaotic day and I'm unsure whether I want to remember it or not. I woke up at one and I was supposed to be up earlier to work on the finishing touches for Divyia's present (a mixed cd). It was already late as it is, and then I had to go and accidentally burn it wrong and gosh, the whole afternoon was just a mess. And then there was emergency drama practice and the elevator and looking for last minute presents. I went to Hanna's house at five and we slowly but surely got ready.

Okay, I have feelings, more so than I have memories, so I'll just icetruck my way through the basics of what went on, and then I'll get down to being emo. We reached there at perfect party etiquette time, not too early, but definitely not late at all. A bunch of people were already there and we had to sign this sort of guest book for the party. There were purple cupcakes with JB iced on top. Purple and white balloons, everything was so Divyia. I was proud of her, for being her the whole night, and having a completely purple and Justin Bieber themed party, without overdoing things. And the Indian songs. God bless those. They had a caterer, oh my God. For my parties or whatever shit that we have at my house, we just make the foods ourselves or ask our extended family to make it. A lot of people were there and they were all looking pretty and stuff and then it started raining so we went inside a bit. When night fell, we started dancing and that was it, really. The dancing barely stopped. Gosh, rereading this over, I am the most eloquent person on the face of the planet, you can just tell.

We did stop a few times, for cake-cutting and birthday-song-singing, to go see Divyia's room, a lot of short minute intervals. Mostly these intervals involved sitting at the fray, in other peoples' laps or with feet up on chairs, because we were tired from all that dancing.

Okay. I think that is literally it. I had a good time, so it's no worries or anything. Kai was there. She came for a while and left after cake-cutting, and you've got to admit that that's longer than expected. After settling a few scores and coming to terms with a lot of things last year, I think I'm better equipped to deal with Kai and her... self-destructiveness. Not saying that I'm going to tolerate the fuck out of her like I did last time, but I think at this point, we're far past telling her to stop. So I won't. And besides, I've missed her so much. Like, insanely so much. She's not enrolled at a school now, lucky bitch, and surprisingly, the long hair works better in person. I think it's fair to say that the little things about her that I used to find annoying, are still there and present as ever, but absence dulled a lot of that, and I was just glad to see her yesterday, even if my mood could be improved upon.

I think that things are not okay (and I've stopped talking about Kai, now) and that they will never be. I'll never be truly happy about this, I mean who could? Things could have been perfect, they could have gone on the way that they did and never reach combustion. I always had this sort of daydream, back in Standard 6, that I didn't part ways from Farhana as early as I had, that I would still be friends with him, and that at the end, things would still end up the way that they did, because that's just me. That's just my nature. That is apparently just what I do to people. And it's good to know that beforehand before things got out of hand.

Things did get out of hand, but like I said, I'm going to be miserable forever. The only brief consolation is what I said last night, "at least she's happy", and okay, that's it. That's the one thing that's making me fine in all of this. At least things are so, so good on the other side. If I'm dying and nobody cares, at least she's okay. And that's it, really. That's all there is to it. I don't really care anymore. I'll feel insanely angry at myself, and embarrassed for what has transpired, and jealous, all at once, in stages, sometimes or not at all, whenever, really. Disjointed thoughts and emotions, all with a clear ending in mind: whatever happens, happens.

I'll feel miserable all my life, I would go through all of what I've went through, twice-over, three times or four, and every single tear and worry, every single frown and feeling of nausea, they're all worth it.

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