Her Pandora’s Box

Dear sugarplum fairy,

-Read, with an open-mind. Empathise my friend who was made victim fer no apprent reason at all-

I’d like to say: gurls can be real mutherfuckers.

And its no wonder why some boys bang them hard enough to pregnancy and leave their loose vaginas hanging around to conceive the illegitimate child. They sure think/believe they’re really something. Try: superior?

I guess vainity comes from watching too much television. Everyone wants to party every weekend, be known as a bitch(hahahaha!), out-do everyone else, pretend to live the ‘high’ life and goes shopping at namely: Topshop, Zara, Dorothy Perkins (which is no big fucking deal) and sits with a bunch of "aristocrats" looking like its halloween and feeling like a big fuck fer no obvious reason. AND: belittling other gurls? Just plain janes, harmless average gurls? They sure think they’re some rich cock-suckers.

Try: "I’m a BITCH and i live the ‘high’ life. Oh and i’m so pretty you’d hate me."

D’you actually realise how gross that sounds? Its as good as eating your own shit.

I’ve a friend whose dad’s the 10th richest man in Singapore. And he’s the most laid-back dude fer the record. And those who tries very hard to look rich (also try: show-off), are prolly just urm, losers? Like my-dog-humped-your-cheap-pussy-last-night-while-you-were-drunk kinda loser.

So fer the cunts who fer a fact are these dickheads, please stop watching O.C and Laguna Beach. Oh did you compare their houses and yours? Oh no! How could you have missed that! And their cars to your urm.. Dad’s car? Hahaha! Happy comparing and contrasting!

Apologies fer the profanities and offensive statements. But my poor true-blue muslim friend who wears a tudung and looks as harmless and as cute as a hamster was being stared, laughed at and bitched about fer nothing. She was terribly terribly upset yet she said to me, "takpe lah, nabi doakan musuhnye." when translated: "even messengers of god pray fer their enemies." She’s a saint alright. And because i’m not, i’d prolly give her my five fingers up her fat minah ass.

Oh those Kakak-kakak, so old yet so fucking stupid. If you think you’re a bad gurl, and feels that you’re extraordinary. Wake up, because the whole world is doing it, whud makes you different?

Like that genius Mahathir said: "Melayu kuat berangan. Sombong entah kenapa."

And like that prodigy Maria says: "DUH!"

p.s If you’d like to know whud they really did. They cupped their hands and sang our gospels. Not forgetting giggling at her outfit. Oh man, old farts aka camwhores are retarded.

Dear sugarplum fairy,

My final attempt of the posture and i called it quits. I could barely get up. Yoga has made the biggest impact on me in my dance education and body conditioning. And so has the goddess of Dance and master of Yoga, Tammy L. Wong.

Ashantanga Yoga is the ideal assasinator of fats and flabs and the so-not-flexible you.

And so, i have gained weight, my love-handles are grossly huge at the moment and my calf muscles are gone. So to get myself to step onto that weighing machine and calibrate, i have no courage. Two months enstranged from ballet, contemporary and sweat has left me feeling like a total loser.

Solution: Drool all over the cover of sports illustrated, go back to a dancer’s diet, gym, yoga, ballet, acrobatics, ballet, gym, acrobatics, gym, acrobatics, ballet, gym, yoga and gym and yoga again.

I told Yas- Give me 3 months, and i’ll get that sports illustrated body.

Yas - Nags.

Dear sugarplum fairy,

This city is highly competitive and the competition is much fiercer when it comes to us youths and our nonsense. It is so strange yet so amusing how everyone strives to be different. It seems almost a necessity. The fact is mocking at our faces. And if you haven’t noticed, well its blazon. I never thought that competing to be distinct amongst the millions who parades down town in a de facto fashion fest is so.. crucial?

Of course again, i made the observation thus the evaluation is personal.

And so everyone wants to make a statement. Everyone wants to be lionized for their individuality. The irony? Because everyone wants to be different, it makes everyone the same.

As simple as- he claims he is different because he dresses weird, she claims she is different because she sniffs glue. Therefore both are just the same because they both want/claims to be different. How could we have missed that?

I guess being that individual that you sculpt or force yourself to be isn’t quite in your hands. You can sure as hell try and make that intended statement but it all comes down to: the people’s judgement. If they say you stand out, you are the bomb. If they say otherwise, whud a loser. So lets just go back to the basics:

To be different is to be, yourself.

Dear sugarplum fairy,

Disgusting customer: I want my drink less sweet.

Me: We can’t do that, sir. The base is already pre-made. Sorry. Maybe i could get you something else? If thats cool with you, that is.

Disgusting customer: Are you saying i cannot get whud i want?

Me: I would believe so? There really is nothing i can do, wish i could though.

Disgusting customer: Whud nonsense is this! Are you trying to be a punk? Don’t be funny here owkay?

Me: Well, if i was a punk, i would’ve pissed in your drink. And my job does not include being funny with retards. Don’t worry..

Disgusting customer: [makes an extremely stern face ready to call my manager out, gross.]

Me: [walks away with a sinister smile, almost devil-ish. Very satisfied. Very, very satisfied.]

TIT-SUCKERRRRRR!

Dear sugarplum fairy,

its tough to fall asleep with a broken heart.

Dear sugarplum fairy,

With the cordless phone sandwiched between her right ear and shoulder, my mom walked into my room with a smile that never failed to irritate me. And each time she wears that smile and beaming that certain way, its news she’s pretty happy with like:

1. The family is having a barbeque next: ______ (or)
2. You must come with me, i’m buying new shoes this weekend (or)
3. Are you going out today? [winner of most irritating quote, so far].

My mom loves shoes and barbeque and spontaneously asking me out but yesterday’s news was rather contrasting. She said to me, "Marissa is having her 12th birthday, and the theme is the 70’s/80’s. Cool kan?" For the first time since forever, i had to agree.

I thought it was absolutely creative and something a little out of the ordinary. And ordinary would be like: Bee Hoon, political family issues amongst my aunts, sloppy decoratives like balloons, balloons, balloons and balloons. BUT i doubt anyone would turn up in dress code. Most people aren’t very fun, but they sure as hell believe they are. The last time i wanted a black and white party fer a reunion, my friends looked like they were gonna bury me alive at any moment.

And a caucasian friend who organized a black tie mocktail party at her place, had everyone on the guestlist in dress code. Envious.

So perhaps, my next reunion party will be enforced with an interesting theme. And if no one turns up the way they should. Its a visual to dictate: lame.

Or maybe just plain boring.

Dear sugarplum fairy,

When you’re climaxed with anger, your heart races, it dashes with fury and your tongue lashes so violently and blindly.

When you’re showered with so much, you forget to give, you become numb indulging, you take her for granted. Neglects her.

When she reaches you with much relish, you reject her emotions, you accuse her and hurt her then leaves her alone. And the pain biting, churning in her.

When you are satisfied you ignore her desperation to recover and to find both shelter and comfort. And you, you were the comfort that now, gave her none.

When you are done, her head hangs low, her chest tightens as she gulps down her pride, she clenches a fist full of rage, her mind rewinding the bitterness of you. She keeps to herself so to not disrespect you, like you have to her.

And when you finally allow it to settle and rest, you regret. You say that you’re sorry, just like the million times you did before, now you seek for hope. Your apology is poison.

And hours later, she misses you. The same person who had trashed her, the ignorant and shallow you.

She loves you and it weakens her. So she admits defeat.

And like always, you win.

Dear sugarplum fairy,

Click on the picture fer clarity.

The band of cousins: only gurls extracted from the original whole. I’m the one with the lightest hair, D-U-H. Kikin looked great. Period.

Kikin had to pose fer the camera in many awkward ways. She had to place her fingers elegantly to her chin and smile at a certain angle and sorts. Thats pretty much something i can never do. To start with, i’m just camera shy and if i had to, i love making dumb faces. AND i’m usually happy with how the pic turns out. Heh.

I’ve a thing fer traditional customes, really. And i’d take pride in my Hari Raya outfit. I like custom-made ones with a certain design and cut. Sadly, i am not remorseful of the amount of money i splurge on it.

If there was something about tying the knot, that i actually look forward to, it’ll be: being a mom. I’d love to have a little gurl or boy. Well actually a boy, preferably, and i’d spend a great deal of time just playing, nursing, teaching, feeding and anything else that comes in a mother’s dictionary of verbs. Its so brave and i’d like to be a real woman.

Dear sugarplum fairy,

"He is the caressing touch to my rude awakening,

the remedy of my torment;

Yet we were never meant to be,

we were made a tragedy."

-Maria

Dear sugarplum fairy,

-She skips about in the meadows blanketed by a nice film of warmth from the gentle rays of the sun as birds sing merry melodies from a height. Feeling high, very emotionally high.-

And so a couple of factors that actually sums up to it:

• I cheated. I disregarded rules, i had a psychosis relapse. So instead of using that money that i have set aside to take my ass off to my dentist (who makes jokes i frown at and looks perverse but is my favourite, still) fer a check-up on my braces, i went shopping. And i bagged a lot of clothes home with me, thats fer sure. It felt so good, it was like everyone around me were singing christmas carols in winter outfits and looking like the pussycat dolls, all at the same time. Hallelujah.

• Birth of a newfound bestfriend. It only dawned on me recently. He has always been that but i was just too ignorant to see it all, my younger brother. Our brother-sister relationship has blossomed tremendously as he matures and its been mad fun. And because everyone else is just too busy fer me [hint], i always have him to rely on and oh, the boy is a type-A shopper.

• I am finally going to start working in the industry that i’m pursuing and slowly stepping towards. Later taday, marks my first day behind a personal work station in one of the biggest dance studio and company, Jitterbugs. I’d be handling administrative work and i’d be able to do classes fer free. Thats right, god-damn-it.

• Dad seems happy. Dad seems very very happy. And he is most deserving of it.

• I caught my favourite television show: Veronica Mars. I waited all week, pathetically.

So, put on your dancing shoes~