Sunday, March 3, 2019

At which point
I realised what you meant

Unhappy things will happen
And so will joyful things

No matter what you do
No matter how strong or weak or rich or poor or high or low or intelligent or stupid you are.

It will happen.
Let it happen.
Don't ever believe that just because it happened, you deserved it.

Thursday, February 28, 2019

Is that the way it is?

I suppose there are some questions in this world that can only be answered by one person. That is to say, it's not the question that matters.

Monday, February 25, 2019

I remember when I was a child, young enough that I don't remember much other than half-formed thoughts and baseless opinions, I wanted to be 'good'. I'm not sure which book or person gave me the impression that a good child never lies, but I believed earnestly and followed the rule.

So I said exactly what I thought, believing that keeping things to myself was akin to a lie. Even though I knew (a little) that there were things you shouldn't say, because they would embarrass people or because they'd get me a good caning.

I'm not sure how long this went on for, but one day I was caned pretty badly, and then I stopped. I kind of gave in to the fact that it was too hard to be a good kid, and I would just have to be a bad one. Couldn't keep up with the constant embarrassed laughter and odd canings that caught me off guard.

So. Dear small me. Yes, there are things that are better left unsaid. I guarantee it.

And I still feel the urge to say them - some of them - even now, not because I still think it would gain me approval, but because it's bursting out of me, leaking from my skin, thoughts that I want validated...mean thoughts, unfair thoughts, but even if they aren't 'truth', they're not quite lies. They're me being completely honest, and I can't be that without being mean, unfair, sometimes even brutal. And I'm not sure, but I don't think it's possible to be alive without understanding these things thoroughly.

Now I'm a lot better at holding these thoughts in, even if they're teetering on the tip of my tongue. I understand there are words that have zero positive value, even if I see them as unfortunate truths.

But is it possible, I wonder, to become a person who doesn't see the world that way at all? Is it possible to be like a sunflower in the sunshine - that's Michelle - see some sunshine? (My hairdresser would say, laughing yoga.)

A better person once told me, well how about you wake up everyday and just try. Tell yourself that you will try. And try. And try. Even if you fail, to understand that you are giving it your best to be a better version of yourself every day, and just keep trying.

Sometimes I think that those are the words of a fool. And then sometimes, more times than not I hope, I can understand how the bowed and broken, climbing shakily to their knees, then standing on both feet, taking another step forward, and then the next - I can see the beauty in that.

On a side note, normally when I'm at a loss for what to do - when thoughts swirl helplessly in my mind, I go somewhere quiet and take a few deep breaths, and ask myself - what would the dalai lama do? What would M do? What would x do? And then usually I have some inkling of the best path I could take based on what I know.

Today I was in the extremely unsettling position of sitting with my mind whirling and running through my list of good people, and not knowing what the ruddy hell I should do. I just sat there like a rock and didn't know what to do. And that was really...scary.

Sunday, February 17, 2019

Suddenly remembered today that Brandon Sanderson's new book is out.

When Kaladin cried, I shed a few tears as well.

There are also some pretty good jokes in the book :')


Craft beer and oysters and reminiscing and nothing at all. I miss people but I also hermit sometimes.

Now that I'm out of GS, it's like I'm recovering from trauma. My eyebrows are growing back...acne getting better...I actually have time to cook (occasionally). I don't roll my eyes half as much. My stomach has stopped hurting...everyday.

I can only pray I never ever get appendicitis. I never want to be cut up by them. Come to think of it, I don't want to be cut up regardless.

Now ortho, that's a different thing. But morbidness aside.

Sasha Sloan - older

Thursday, January 24, 2019

I feel like we went in all warm and fuzzy with ideals, and have come out scrubbed pink, slightly raw, and twitching. No more fuzzy.

But then I think of CM. I think of KCH. And I wonder...maybe...there has to be a way.

Monday, January 21, 2019

The thing about calls - and I know I talk about it a lot but damn I hate calls - is that can you imagine, when at 3AM you finally get some rest and your head on something soft (or the table), and you fall into this nightmare feauturing jaundiced people, and you get woken up by some nurse calling the wrong HO, or someone wanting a sleeping pill because, surprise, they don't get any sleep in the hospital because their bed neighbour is demented and shouting the ward down. Or worse, someone is having a heart attack...great.

At the 2PM mark post-call, I start hating everything before me. It doesn't matter what. And you can keep going, keep on going for a very long time (10, 11PM..) but at the 2PM mark a feeling of rising desperation starts to build. A little like standing in front of a firing squad. One-fifteenth of that heart constricting dread. And it keeps building and you keep feeling - hateful, desperate, and you just...want to cry.

So. Yes. I hate calls. I hate... calls.


On another note, there is a scope of tragedy in the hospital - of lives cut short and dreams unfulfilled, of empty eyes and silent tears, bit-back cries and wavering smiles... And then there are the unstable, the crashing, and it's as if everything in this place is teetering on the edge.

And it sounds really cheesy when people say, we have to be grateful for what we have. But really, we should. We have family who would come to us if we were sick. We don't have cancer. We can walk, run, climb, make our own way. We can wipe our own ass.

There are two things which hurt to see. One is young people who have a new, unexpected diagnosis. The other is the elderly who have deteriorated, and then we get to see the extent to which a human can lose things...we see someone lose so much, I never knew we had all that to begin with. The loss of dignity, above all, is painful to watch. Is it any surprise most doctors would choose unequivocably to die at peace at home, than fight to the end in the hospital?

Sunday, January 13, 2019

When the sun has long retired but the moon is not yet up, the streets glow yellow and everything is colored a shade of blue. The air is cold and someone is sitting alone, face illuminated by his phone. I feel melancholic, but I feel alive.


When she took my hand in both of hers, and said, thank you. She's lost so much weight, I feel her bones. And I know I don't deserve her thanks.

We don't have as long as we think we do, sometimes.

Her skin was yellow, her eyes tired and sad, and her husband looked on with an expression that said 'I love you' and 'goodbye' at the same time.

Someone once asked me, if we had the option to know how long we will live, would you choose to know? And I said, no. Absolutely not.


My parents brought me up to be independent and to survive. They told me struggles lie ahead, and I had to make my way myself. And for a long time, all I saw were struggles, when the books I read showed heroes and soul-crushing battles and...

All these months I've watched many people face the most terrifying kind of battle, and they all have a certain air about them, not entirely defeat nor acceptance, but just the atmosphere of someone who sees the end at last.

I don't know if we're here for a reason, or no reason at all. But I think it is okay to seek our own joy. It is alright to find our own path. It is not quite blasphemous to believe that with the struggles come the ugliness, somewhere someone is cultivating beauty. For all the pain I've had, there were many good moments and many great people. I will always try to believe the same for whatever lies before me.