some more about me..

Rewards that might work for me? Something that can get me going? To study and to achieve something? I’m not sure how to answer that. Prize money would do, but not much though I long for it every day as if I don’t have enough. A new gadget, a holiday or a grand celebration? Thanks but no thanks. I would really like a kiss on the cheek or a congratulating hug if I succeed in something. But that is too common for me. Love is all around in my home. So, what is it that would inspire me to work hard? Actually, I would love to have a special but casual dinner, someplace else where I have never been to. I want to have dinner with everybody that wants nothing from me except love. I might sound seriously emotional and dreamy as usual but I mean every word. I have, of course reasons to want something. People always want something that is impossible for them to get and I am no different. There is actually a bit of love that is not near me.

Something funny but touching happened two days ago. My big sister was selecting songs from my hand-phone to be transferred to hers. She was grumbling that her memory card was not spacious enough to keep many songs in. I can see that she was being strict with herself to just select the best songs for her hand-phone. Suddenly, she laughed so hard that she surprised me. I found out that she discovered a recording in my phone, of my little sister calling me peculiar names and made a song out of them. She kept on playing the recording and laughed loudly each time she did. Then I discovered that among the few songs she carefully selected for her phone, she also chose the recording. I did not say anything but just laughed along with her. :-7

Do you remember the last time you fell down? A nasty fall that you would be sprawling on the ground? Well, I remember mine. It was last night. My little sister and I were enjoying ourselves, taking pictures of beautiful things around the house with creative perspectives. I tripped over her feet suddenly, and went down on the floor. Hard. Ouch!! I did not cut myself but I did hurt my right knee and my left arm. My sister laughed because she witnessed the whole great fall but I didn’t, so I didn’t laugh much. Of course, I only saw the things in front of me grew larger and nearer during the fall. Only a few minutes later did I laugh, when I discovered that was my first fall after many years.

I was a great mischief when I was in kindergarten, greater than all the boys. The teachers had a difficult time trying to cope with their laughter and to discipline me at the same time. When I was in my standard one and two, I was a loser. Everybody bullied me while I, always assume anyone at all as my best friend, and put the faked fact down in my little book of my family’s biodata. When I was in standard three till six, I was a joke for the boys and stupid small girls. When I was in my secondary school, I was a loner. I was bullied when I was in form one, met my best friend in form two, formed an informal small club to escape injustice in form three, met my second best friend in form four and became a lazy student who always slept in classes and found ways to cover my undone homework, in form five.

There was a small shallow swimming pool in the back of my kindergarten. Every Wednesday, if I am not mistaken, the five-year olds, were allowed to play in the pool. Most of the time, I changed into my swimsuit and enjoyed myself in the water. One day, my mother said this when I asked for her permission to play in the pool, “why not you, don’t go into the pool for just this time?” I asked why and so, she told me a logical reason which might be different from the real reason. When the time for swimming that day came, my friend wondered why was I not going into the pool. I told her, “you know what? I didn’t because the pool is full of everybody’s piss. My mother said so.” And so, the rumour or preferably, the hidden truth spread. The teachers were puzzled why the kids did not go into the pool anymore. They learnt why when one of my friends told her. Then, they found out that it was me who caused it and I think they would have grumbled, “this girl again..” My mother might have shrugged in a guilty way when the teachers asked her, “you told your daughter that?”