Monday, 14 January 2013

Color of My Voice

On an average day, we have about 70,000 thoughts. A staggering 4,000 books are published daily. The World Wide Web is growing a billion pages per day. There are over one billion Facebook posts and 2.7 billion likes/comments per day. 294 billion emails are sent, 864,000 hours of videos is uploaded to YouTube and 2 million blog posts are written daily.

And today, I contribute one blog post to the world. One in the 2 million posts. I wonder what kind of value I add to the world. How insignificant it might be. I wonder why F5bulous sisters even bother to start this blog site. Why are we even adding our voices in a world where everybody can’t stop talking?

My voice is not sharp, nor blur. 

I am not even a proficient and efficient writer to begin with. I write like I am swimming laps in an Olympic-size pool. I never learn properly how to swim, my strokes are clumsy, and I have to stop to take my breath every three metres. It takes me hours to reach the other side with tremendous effort, and then realizing I have to swim back in the opposite direction. And most of the time, I end up where I start.

 Despite this, what I worry greatly is what I want to write about. What if I cannot find my voice? What if I cannot find something I can stand for? I do not want to be a copy of others. No matter how much I like Anthony Robbins, Paulo Coelho and Abraham Hicks, I do not want to be them. I want to be ME. And I want to be more than just the look; although I am thankful to be bestowed with some physical appeals but I am certainly not a bimbo. (FlamboyantG used to overstate that I am a danger to both men and women. I wish!)

So, I often stare at a blank page in my computer. Do I want to write about the male species, the fire and spice in my life? Do I want to write about spirituality, femininity or just my mortal experience? Do I want to write about my corporate life, my love life or the fact that I don’t seem to have a life? Do I want to expose my multi-faceted, multi-layered, eccentric personality without sounding insane?

My voice is not black or white, nor truth or lie.

I have been through a lot in life (up, down, broken, fallen, inane). Sure, I can offer some advices, maybe write some posts like the 10 ways not to get dumped, 20 not to get cheated, 50 ways to heal your heart, and 9 ways to get promotion in your jobs. After all, I have been dumped, got cheated, healed my heart, and got promoted many times. However, I am not inclined towards giving advice or tips. Not because I am stingy and reticent. I just feel I am in no place to offer any advices. Things that I have done, they have either worked for me or NOT. They may work for me, but not for you. They may work at certain times and circumstances, but not all the times and scenarios. Even a broken clock is right twice a day, as the saying goes. My own personal belief is this – No one really knows how it works in life at all times. Some just pretend to know better. Listen to gather perspectives but do not believe blindly. 

So, don’t believe what I am telling you here. I am not lying, and I swear I will try to be 100% open and honest except if that really hurts someone. But what I am saying is what I am telling you are through my lenses of how I view the world. It is going to be filtered and distorted. So, if I say a guy is very cruel, the next thing you’ll see is he is guiding a blind old lady across the street. Beware though he might be kicking her off when no one is watching. When I extol someone, she might just be average on your scale.

And the more I learn, the more I find I know nothing, as Socrates put it.

My voice is not bending, nor straight. 

I do not want to be led by the nose. I do not want to be coerced, controlled and cajoled. I am the oak that want to challenge the wind. I am the rebel who wants to challenge the conventions. I want to have lots of love, fun and hot sex. I want to be who I want to be, even at times when I do not know who I want to be. But I’ll try.

I hope you would like to know me better. If there is nothing else I can offer, I offer you my stories, sincerity and passion.

If while you are reading my post and there is one thought, just one thought that you are receiving from me and it makes you a little more enlightened, enlivened, empowered or just entertained or aroused, then I am successful among the 2 million posts.

I think that’s what I want to achieve for F5bulous.

 ** Please note the statistic is not from the latest source. 
Image Credit: Infinity by Max von Wening

Notes: I am also blogging at or
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Heartbreak – Then and Now

Heartbreak sucks.

When my mum threw away my beloved Little Pillow which was with me for 17 years, I was insanely heartbroken.

Little Pillow to me was like an iPad to kids nowadays. Even the size was so alike. But Little Pillow was lighter, fluffier and wouldn’t break down when I threw him around. Little Pillow was cuddly and balmy and as the cliché goes, I slept with it, play with it, eat with it, pee with it, shit with it. I was obsessed with its smell so much that I insolently forbid my mum to wash it except the several times when I wetted my bed. By the time I was 17, my mum have gotten very worried. Though I was not carrying Little Pillow around then, but I swore we would be together till death did us apart. I was even planning to bring Little Pillow to my marriage bed. My mum said that would be shameful and tried to persuade me to dump Little Pillow. I retorted that my future husband wouldn’t mind – probably the start of my distressing and disastrous journey with men, my poor evaluation of which got me into trouble, REALLY BIG trouble.  My smarter mum eventually threw Little Pillow when I was out in the college.

When I realized that, I was devastated. In a million years, I wouldn’t have expected him to disappear without saying goodbye. Still, the feeling of the unwilling separation aka being dumped was salt to my broken heart.

I certainly had an experience of being dumped. It sucked the energy out of me and I got drained and thrown down to a dark deep dirty well and left alone, afraid and clueless how to get out. But it was also at these times, I learnt to live with the darkness, see clearer despite the darkness and find ways to reach the light beyond the darkness. It was a mind-boggling, spiritual and soul-searching experience that made me grow into a better person.

It was easy to launch angry birds at the other parties, reveling on their falls and explosions into the thin air. But my most recent heartbreak taught me more about acceptance, forgiveness and self-worth. And because I gain all my self-worth and forego my pride, I was able to see my own mistakes I made in the relationship that were causing the problem (I’ll share more on this in later posts). Of course, if he was a relationship guru like Anthony Robbins or Dr John Gray, we probably would be able to swerve the winding paths without overturning the car. But he was just a man who was trying to take baby steps in a relationship and was not prepared to handle the emotional flood. I was foolish. He was obtuse. We would have made a wonderful albeit odd couple.

Like the Little Pillow episode, I have gotten over it and moved on with my life. One thing for sure about heartbreak is time always heals. But another more important thing, as Gary Zukav said, eventually you will come to understand that love heals everything, and love is all there is.

I love falling in love,

Stay tuned for more on heartbreak and how to heal. And love.

Notes:I am also blogging at or
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My review and reflection for The Garden of Words

I just watched this short animation work from Makoto Shinkai. I had previously watched his grand hit 'Your Name' and absolutely fel...