Life's impermanence

When I first met her, her entire right breast appeared grotesque with an ulcer with blood-stained serous discharge, peau d'orange sign and satellite nodules. The prognosis was really bad, with the presence of ipsilateral axillary and supraclavicular lymphadenopathy, lymphoedema, malignant pleural effusion and liver secondaries. 

It's painful to see her wither away with such an advanced breast cancer. Really. As I listened sympathetically to her history, I was also angry at her ignorance of her painless right breast lump which had been there for 4 years. I was incensed by the gross stupidity of the traditional medicine practitioner who gave her the misleading advice that it wasn't malignant. Shouldn't these people know that a painless breast lump in a middle-aged woman is cancerous until proven otherwise?

Sometimes, I close my eyes, and ask myself, "What if she's my mom?"

Immediately, I can envision my entire world crumbling down on me. I can imagine myself consumed with anger, cursing destiny for its paradoxes and injustices. I can visualize myself sitting forlornly at a corner, ensnared in self-pity and a devastation unfathomable by others. I can picture myself swimming aimlessly across the ocean of depression with the heartbreaking awareness of mankind's mortality.

Mom called a few times to ask if I'd be going back to hometown after my exam, an idea which I'm ambivalent about. The only thing holding me back is the astronomical price of the return air ticket.

On one hand, I was thinking that I could use the money saved to buy myself a new suit so that I could look stunningly gorgeous presentable during my brother's wedding next February. On the other hand, I really do miss Mom. The approaching exam and my innumerable trivial personal problems, coupled with my impending obesity, are giving me a considerable amount of stress.

Life is impermanent. Certain things ought to be cherished before they vanish forever. I wanna spend as much time as I can with Mom when I still can, even though, inevitably, this means having to come up with a plausible explanation of why I'm still single.

You might want to diagnose me with dependent personality disorder. But, I guess I just miss my mom. And I'm getting very agitated now because, most probably, I'm not going back during my break after the exam.

AirAsia, please have mercy!

Homophobia

Most of the time, I'm able to maintain a facade of of optimism despite being surrounded by friends who're incorrigibly homophobic.

Unfortunately, it seems I ain't that good in covering up my sexuality. Maybe, I was careless. Maybe, I thought that with the staggering number of gays in our population, people would no longer see homosexuality as an abomination and subconsciously, I began to express myself more boldly. Apparently, I was wrong.

'Macho' isn't a word I'd use to describe myself. Yet, I'm pretty confident that I don't have those mannerisms gay enough to arouse others' suspicion. Perhaps, I did a mistake by publicly airing my liking for Glee and reading 'Eat, Pray, Love' in class. Perhaps, I shouldn't have worn that yellow Paul Frank shirt the other day.

As a consequence, some of my colleagues now seem convinced that I swing the other way. Although I haven't really been ostracized or sneered at, I feel extremely disturbed by the their malicious display of homophobic remarks which has successfully enfeebled the tough front I've always put on.

I remember when I was younger, I liked to make up fairy tales and indulge in an imaginary wonderland in which I was a little prince in disguise, mistakenly thrust into this cruel world to endure the torments by the homophobes. And one day, my knight in shining armor would come to my rescue and ride me back to the castle where we'd be happily married ever after.

However, every now and then, I find myself inundated with pessimistic thoughts and a crushing desolation no one can possibly understand. I feel extremely exasperated when people make idiotic comments about homosexuality, even though they might not be referring to me. I'm full of vengeance and brood. But, I'm unable to retaliate. Sometimes, I just wish I could walk away from all these nonsense.

As for Mom, I've developed my own ingenious ways of pleasing her, which include a 1500 ringgit handbag purchased using my personal savings, with the hope that the pestering would become less. But, frankly, I don't know when it'd be tacitly understood for her that I'm never going to have a girlfriend.

I hope that very soon, the universe will shift and destiny's molecules will be precisely organized for my path to criss-cross that of my knight in real life.

I need a lot of hugs. :(

I miss my mom

I'm eating my breakfast which I bought from the cafeteria downstairs. I didn't want to take the trouble to drive out. It doesn't taste nice at all.

I miss my mom the most whenever I'm sitting an exam.

I can distinctly recall how the world revolved around me when a exam was around the corner back in primary of high school. My mom was always there. She was my emotional pillar. I had the tendency to tell her how nervous and helpless I felt just to swap for a few words of encouragement although deep in my heart, I knew I would always pass, if not ace. Besides, I always had the nicest and most nutritious food to eat. It felt so nice to be pampered.

With the passing of time, the game became harder and more complicated. Now, with the passing mark set at 65 %, the stress is exsanguinating.

Aih. I'm still struggling to finsh my breakfast. I need the glucose.

I still have 20,000 topics to revise.

I miss my mom. I wish I didn't have to grow up.

No. Just in case you're wondering, I don't have dependent personality disorder. I just miss my mom.

Can someone just pamper me till my exam ends? ;p

Rants of an old gay

I've always subconsciously said or done things to manipulate people around me into thinking that I'm straight, attributable to the fact that I'm too timid to let them know about my sexuality.

Yet, I feel awful and am conscience-stricken. I've built a fortress around my real self so strong that no one around me really knows who I am. I think I'm a very fake person, in a way.

I do have several friends whom I spend most of my time with in where I'm studying. Yet, frankly speaking, I don't have a friend whom I can confide my innermost feelings in and that I can call to talk for hours when I'm upset. There're just too many things I can't reveal without raising their suspicion that I'm gay. Never have I intended to come out to them in view of their homophobic nature. Hence, everyone's constantly guessing which girl I'm seeing whenever I'm seen dressed up charmingly. Even my mom's suspecting that I'm having a clandestine relationship with a girl who lives in KL considering that I've been visiting the city quite frequently for unclear reasons of late.

And I guess I have too few genuine gay friends. It's very difficult for a friendship to blossom when both parties live thousands of miles apart from each other. However, I really do cherish the very few who care about me.

I feel sad and lonely. I'm a person who can hardly survive without friends. I'm worried that I'll become lonelier and be forgotten as I age. I've never really had a successful relationship in my entire life. I don't know what I've been doing for the past 20 years. For as long as I can remember, I've been trying to keep myself alive in a highly competitive learning environment in which everyone wants to outshine the rest.

I cried while watching Tsunami at Haeundae a couple of hours ago. There're many touching scenes. And I'm not sure if that's related to the tinge of sourness I feel in my heart now. Life's certainly not going to be a bed of roses if I weren't gay. Yet, I guess my life would be simpler if I weren't. At least, there's less hiding and explanation to be done.

I don't know why I'm writing this. I'm not a newbie. I'm not a new gay. It dawned on me that I was sexually attracted to the same sex when I was 12. So, theoretically speaking, I'm quite an old gay now.

I should be sleeping by now. I've got to wake early to attend a scuba-diving course. DIVING. Not driving. It's a 3-day course. I'm not going back to hometown during the Hari Raya break since the air tickets are too expensive.

Perhaps, I'm just having a bad mood. And my blog just happens to be one of the most appropriate places to take my frustrations out voicelessly. Hopefully, things will be better when tomorrow comes.

I passed

Well, I passed. What a relief!

Our results have not been released. We only got to know whether or not we passed. It's rumoured that only a few aced. Majority of us just managed to scrape through. I think I'm one of them. I did badly in the questions on biochemistry. I've never liked it. But, who cares? I passed. I hope there're still patients who want to see me in future knowing that I just scraped though, My heart goes out to the unfortunate few who didn't.

Last night was hot, especially in the car. We didn't make out, k? Just a little touching and hand-holding.

Me: There're people watching!

Him: So what? They're holding hands too.

I saw a pearl in the jewellery shop. Rm 80. The cheapest of all those put on display. Thought of buying it for my mom as Mother's Day gift but am wondering if it's authentic. I'm flying home tomorrow. I have a one-month break before 4th year begins.

Argh!! If only I were more financially capable...

Australia

I haven't shed tears for some time. But, Australia, a movie about an English aristocrat who travels to the faraway continent on the brink of World War II to save the land she inherited, made me do so today.

The motherly instinct portrayed by Lady Ashley (Nicole Kidman) when she goes to great lengths to save the aboriginal child, Nullah, really touches me.

Being a typical mommy's boy, very naturally, I began to think of my mom whom I hadn't seen for 5 months. I started to picture the endearing smile on her face when I told her I fared badly in a test. I started to reminisce the joyful moments she read me bedtime stories. Mothers are great, aren't they?

I know of people who dislike, or are contemptuous of their parents, for certain reasons. I, too, used to go through the stage of disobedience and rebellion during my adolescence.

"You'll understand when you're older", my elder sister told me.

With a little bit of maturity penetrating my mind as I entered adulthood and after a little bit of metamorphosis, I now see things differently. And I begin to understand what my sister tried to convey.

I guess I really am a fortunate child. Hehe.

By the way, Hugh Jackman is damn hot! I admit I watched the movie partly because of him. He never fails to stimulate me with his perfect physique and indescribable beauty.

Confession of a gay son

“Mummy!! The bus has arrived!!”

“Okay, okay. Wait a minute!”

Suddenly, I heard a loud thud and subsequently a high-pitch scream of pain. The moment I looked back, she’d already stood up, with fresh blood oozing out profusely from her injured knees. Enduring the crippling pain, she hastily rushed towards me, grabbed my hand and walked me to the bus on the other side of the road. I was stunned and in a complete daze.

“Are you okay?” I muttered to her apologetically.

She remained silent as she waved farewell to me and tried to put on a rather bogus smile that failed to convey the message that everything was fine.

As I watched her trudge back to the house from the window, a swell of sympathy washed over me, gripping me in a sudden agony of utter remorse and sorrow. An overpowering wave of stabbing pain jolted through my heart. Meanwhile, I could vividly feel how unconditional and immeasurable a mother’s love for her son can be. Despite the fact that it transcended my understanding as a 5-year-old boy, the particular incident was permanently etched in my mind.

It staggers me how rapidly time has flown.

I miss shopping with her during my childhood. I miss the days when she’d force me to complete my homework before allowing me to play with the kids in the neighbourhood. I miss the days when she’d stealthily wash the unbearably smelly purple pillow (which emitted a scent I found very exquisite and refreshing) that I carried with me almost all the time. I miss the days when I’d excitedly say “ Mi Mi nite nite!” to swap for a goodnight kiss on my forehead. I miss the days when she’d serve me with the most fattening and tantalizing food after coaxing me into controlling my diet and losing weight. A ridiculous irony. I miss the infuriation which painted her face when I enthusiastically described to her the content of a porn movie that I’d watched with my friends. And that was before I got to know what sex was all about.

I share many things with my mom. Except the fact that I’m hopelessly into guys.

Mummy, on this extraordinary day, I’d like to wish you a happy birthday. Thank you for giving me a fabulous childhood and adolescence. Thank you for the love and care you've shown to me in spite of my occasional disobedience and mischief. I’ve always prided myself on having a such a sophisticated mom without whom my life would be incomplete. I'm standing where I am now, chiefly because of the strength you’ve generously offered.

But sorry, for being gay. Sorry, for I’ve sinned.