action and reaction

and the story continues.......

what happens after you give in to exorbitant demands? someone ask for a ridiculous raise and having no other alternatives, you succumb to the arrogant ultimatum. yes, without any doubt, you'll feel used, cheapened, taken advantage of and a whole range of other unsettling feelings, the least of which being annoyed.

looking at the other side of the scale, i was surprised that the beneficiary of the demand reacted in a very grateful manner to the raise. it was as if the demand itself was a cry for self-validation and the very acceptance of the demand a confirmation of her self-worth. she is at once trying hard to please as well as working to prove that she is indeed worth that amount of money. however, with that crude exercise in power, her efforts are now falling onto hard ground; her betrayal unreversible simply by any pretty words or efficient output. perhaps over time, it will soften the heart?

then again, i believe with time, the enthusiasm will once again dampen and the short-lived effects of the temporary gratitude will pass. how fast the human mind forgets. she will revert back to her usual self in the blink of an eye. things will operate as before, the only difference being the extra money being twisted out of me.

it's not the quantum. it's a small sum if you look at the whole picture. perhaps i shouldn't wrong someone who is merely seeking for a livelihood. to each his own survival.

nevertheless, it proved to be an interesting lesson in human behavioural study.

quantifying attachment

how do you quantify an eight-year old relationship? an eight-year period of trust, friendship, acceptance and of seeing each other through some significant events in their life.

my domestic helper has been with me for 8 years and seen me through the birth of both my children and moving of two abodes. without realising it, she has become a part of the family. she has unconsciously became a part of my life, my lifestyle. the tales of what we do for each other will be a never-ending roll of destiny.

recently, however, she found a way to quantify this long and deep relationship. she asked for a 30% increment to renew her contract for the 9th year. not a single cent less.

i can't help the sense of betrayal that creeps in over me. whilst an increment is definitely due, a demand for an excessive quantum reeks of extortion. insisting on sticking so firmly to the figure and not accepting even a little less portrays her obvious discard of all feelings towards our relationship. a little sad at realising that to her it is merely a job after all. how can you see someone day in day out for eight years without growing an attachment to them? if only it had been so easy for me to reign my feelings.

with that one sentence, everything changes. 8 years of attachment trampled and insulted. all feelings thrown out the window. invisible strings of affection reduced to merely figures on a piece of paper.

how cold the world is. how materialistic people are.

out of grasp

sometimes life isn't about what you can make of it or what you want it to be. there are things beyond your control...things that you can only take a deep breath and swallow.

i can't stand to be victimised. i'm not one of those poor little things that you will see on tv which will bear the brunt of everything, whilst not daring to let out even a single peep. i'm the type to shout when i'm beaten, the one who kicks back when i'm hit, who will fight back......but there are times when life doesn't accord you that luxury.

i find myself being forced into a position where i have to live a lie for someone else. telling a lie is something that goes against the very principle of my life. i can tell it as good as the next tom, dick and harry...but i want to be able to sleep at night, to have a heart that is as light as the lark. so, i choose not to. but i have been thrust into this situation. a situation i have no way out of. and i'm wilting inside this hell-hole.

a situation where i feel nervous when the other person fucks up.....because the stakes are too high. i've always believed 'to each his own'. everybody has different believes, different opinions, different taste, different needs, different priorities and different ways of doing things. there's no right and wrong and we shouldn't judge. still, for whatever you choose or whatever you do, it's your right...as long as you are prepared to live with your choices. now, i realise no man's an island. life's filled with contradicting theories. what if your choices hurt others? can you live with being happy at the expense of others' misery? i don't want to be feel guilty about other people's shit. isn't it enough that i have my own? everybody knows, don't complicate lfe.....but sometimes, that is out of your hand. other people complicate it for you.

it's no longer about my life and what i want to do with it. it's also about the people around me and what i can live with. i feel cornered and so helpless.

little pieces

day in, day out..wondering what to cook, what to put on the table. such a tedious process. takes away all the passion i had for cooking. cooking under the pressure to please is quite exhausting. i'm not the type to conform, to do what others do, to live the life of a billion other housewives. i'll wilt.

8yo likes to talk before she closes her eyes for the night. whilst i'm nagging her to keep quiet and go to sleep, she'll tell me little pieces of story from here and there. i'm such a bad mother. she's sharing with me a part of her day and i'm reminding her that it's past bedtime and that she'll feel sleepy tomorrow if she doesn't get enough sleep. motherhood - always torn between what's correct and what's best. next time, i'll have to remind myself to shut up and listen to her precious little stories.

6yo walks and talks (if not scream) in his sleep. must be heriditary. i'm famous for my midnight escape attempts too. have to check everynight that the doors to the balconies are locked. visualising his little body falling 25 stories down freezes me with fear sometimes, yet i cannot stop my mind from conjuring up those gruesome images. blame it on my over-active imagination.

i've always thought i never learned the word 'independent' despite all those years spent away from the family. my days alone didn't make me stronger or tougher, as did those other children in similar circumstances. but now, after all those years, i realise it made me into a very individual person, without my even realising so. a person who can't stand to conform. a person who needs her space. a person who can't stand to be one of the herd of sheep. or is it just old age and eccentricity?

no, don't answer that.

sis

i miss having a sister.

not that i had one.

when i was growing up, just me and my older brother, i did wish for a little sister. someone for me to boss around, or at the very least, to follow me around like a little devoted puppy (haha). i had an inborn need to guide and teach, and so i unleashed it all on my cousin sister, willing or reluctant partner that she was. it was rather boring, just me and myself, but i had plenty to keep me amused and i rather enjoyed my own company.

in my teens, i made friends fairly easily and had many close friends that replaced the need of having a sister. i didn't miss having another person to argue about ownerships or hearing the nags of mother to share. my brother and i were so different that we mostly kept to ourselves during those period of raging hormones and puberty.

later, in my 20s, the absence of a sister figure still didn't mean much as i was too busy with my life, too sure of my ownself for the need of any validation from others. what with adjusting to life with another person and childbirth, i had more than my hands full most of the time.

only in my 30s am i missing my imaginary sister the most. someone that i can talk to and pour my heart out. someone who would understand without the need for me to justify the reasons for my feelings. someone who will always stand on my side, against everybody else. someone who will understand what i am going through and empathise. someone who will hurt when i am hurting. someone who will stand up for me. someone who will love me because i am me. someone who will tell me the hard truth simply because it is the truth. someone i can tell everything in the world to and will understand. someone that i can rant and rave to without coming under the criticism of the public eye.

when i was growing up, i never could bond with anybody. parents were simply meant to be censoring tools to over-excessive enjoyment and provision of adequate needs. brother was never around even to be a source of annoyance. friends separated by a wall of geographical mobility....friends whom were often more interested in telling me their woes than listening to mine. when i was growing up, my diary replaced the role of a sister.

sometimes it feels like me against the whole world. one solitary figure standing against it all. whom do i rant to? who can i tell what's eating away at me? who can i bitch to? i don't want to be the nice person always. i don't want to be strong. i want to cry, i want to shout, i want to whine....but who understands?

perhaps i should start writing a diary again.