The myth that is Destiny

I'm sure you've heard of it. The idea that life is somehow predestined, an order of events that have been set and all you have to do is read the signs. Ah, Destiny and her manipulative mind. Whether you want to call it fate or destiny to explain life, I think you have been cheated.

I'm very sure you've heard this, "What is meant to be, will be."

Now, I'm beginning to think that the ancients created the myth that is Destiny to explain the unexplainable. But what is so unexplainable about it? If you do A, then B will happen. Depending on Destiny's whim is just plain lazy.

Of course, I was a sucker for these kind of things when I was younger, and the world was one cosmic question mark. My best friend and I would interpret everything as a sign - the time, a song, an event. We would spend hours dissecting these signs and in the end, come up with a conclusion that usually eases our minds.

In a stupid attempt at figuring out how someone feels about me, I would randomly select a station and the song that my fingers magically tuned would be my answer. Okay, alright, not a very great example but you get my drift.

There are so many other ongoing factors that undermines Destiny. No matter how much you push someone to be with you, or push for a certain job, we use this bullshit system to make ourselves sleep better at night - telling our tired minds that it is simply not meant to be.

Instead of facing our shortcomings or the others, we use Destiny as a scapegoat. Maybe the real reason is that, the other person is just not willing to try hard enough to be with you or even when putting in massive hours into a job, maybe your skills are lacking.

We create what happens in our life. Whether we complicate it, which we usually tend to do, or go with the flow of things, it is what we do that determines the course of life.

So yes, I may sound like a cynic by giving Destiny the middle finger. But I'm just tired of waiting for things to happen, when I know (without Destiny's help) that it is a hopeless case to begin with.

Glass half empty

Whatever I touch breaks, dissolves, rots. Whatever path I choose is a one of uncertainty. I look at the people around me, their lives seem solid, planned, organised. And when I look at my life, it's a mess.

This week has been a horrible one for me. As a matter of fact, this year has been really shitty. Everything is a struggle. Everything. From the small to the big, nothing has come easy. But then again, it never has for me. For some, life is an easy succession of events. They get most of what they want with ease, while I struggle and fight; kick and claw - only ending up at the finish line with a slight glimmer of what I wanted.

A wish fulfilled is definitely a wonderful experience but a wish half fulfilled is a dark one. You think you're that much closer to what you want but it is forever dangling in front of your eyes, with your hands tied at your back. You think there are ways around it but in reality there really isn't.

One thing after another, at the end of the day I find myself crying and begging to a higher power for something, anything to go my way. Silence is my answer. The next day I get up and it's the same story all over again.

I feel like everything is falling apart, including me. My mind is racing from one thought to another but I can't find a resolution. I keep thinking, what should I do? But as I lay me down to sleep, darkness washes over me.

A restless respite to the neverending problems in my life.

I am homeless

I write about homes for a living. Big ones, small ones and some that are just nice. And as I write through every article, a line crops up every time. It has been abused and used to its limit - home is where the hearth is.

However, as I type those words over and over again. When I stop to think about it, I realise that they are just words on a screen to me. I may write about the warmth, ambiance and a cozy atmosphere of a home but I've only caught glimpses of those moments - because for me, I have no idea where home is.

I spent most of my life in a place I thought was home. Everything around me was so familiar - places and people. I could close my eyes and walk around and know where I was. It was the place where my life grew and took shape. From disappointment to disappointment, swinging myself into a lull in a dark playground, to the happier moments when I walked the streets with a perpetual smile on my face - Portland was the only place I thought I truly knew and could call home.

But now...

I have no idea where I belong. For four years I've been living in my "hometown". To most, an instant feeling of warmth and recognition floods the senses and they can truly say, "it's good to be home."

But somehow, even after four years, I still feel like a stranger in my own land. Although certain places and faces have become familiar over the years, something still feels missing. I still feel out of place.

When I think back to Portland, somehow that didn't seem like home either. I used to get excited at the thought of going back. I could imagine myself relishing every moment, going to all my old haunts.

But now...

Neither of the homes I know of is truly home sweet home. Neither of those places conjures up a feeling of belonging. As I stand in the middle and look to each side, I am hesitant to take a step in either direction and claim it as my own.

Even though I drive around and about, go out, laugh and eat with my loved one and friends, I feel hollow and lost... I think, how nice it would be to be able to truly call a place home.

For now, this is what I know. Home is neither here or there. I'll always be that outsider looking in, even in the place where I was born.

Up, up and up!

A gas station convenience store holds nothing more than the bare essentials. Bags of chips are lined up against the wall, rows of chocolate await the hand of a child, and even the occasional bar of soap and shampoo are meagerly stocked in a corner.

Today, it was a loaf of bread. A middle-aged Chinese woman stood at the cash register. Her face creased, showing signs of either discontent or perplexity - looking back and forth from the cash register's hungry green digits and the woman behind the counter.

"How much is it again?" The Chinese woman asked. Her hand stop in midair, fingers touching the rims of her purse.

With a smile that seemed out of place, the woman behind the counter answered, "The prices have gone up this November."

I stood behind the Chinese woman and wondered why the woman behind the counter was smiling. Was it because it was her job or was she content with a simple loaf of bread costing more than her salary would allow?

It seems like an obvious question. Who would be content about the rising prices? It's not just a loaf of bread - the general cost of goods have risen. From tolls, gas and now even the smaller things in life.

The Chinese woman simple muttered an "oh," and handed over the amount needed. She probably thought it was just a loaf of bread, it won't effect her way of life.

Yes, in the short term. It is just a loaf of bread. But imagine how much more you're spending in a month? Or even a year on a single item. Now add all the other costs you need to go through your daily routine. Are we making enough to sustain a price increase?

I think you know the answer to this question. Instead of just saying "oh" and going about our way. How about we do something about? Voice our your opinion. Don't hide your discontent.

There needs to be a change.

Calming Cameron

I was going to wait until I uploaded my pictures to write this blog, but you know and I know that by the time I do that, a month or two will pass and this entry will never have been written.

After a tumultuous month of extreme lows, my 26th birthday was quickly approaching. The trip to Cameron was the only thing I was holding on to, to keep me afloat. And the day finally came.

My birthday started with supervising Ghazi in baking my birthday cake, since all the bakeries were closed by the time we went out to get one. While he baked, I prepared sandwiches for the trip. Before we knew it, it was 4:30. After an hour of sleep, I woke up in a start and hurried through the wee hours in the morning to get ready for the trip.

The group met up at Mahboub in Bangsar for a quick breakfast before attempting the winding three hour drive up to Cameron Highlands. Since we already had our breakfast, Ghazi held the cake in his lap for the journey, occasionally licking his fingers from having accidentally touched the cake in sleep. Poor guy.

The scenery became green and the air began to cool. We had left the city far behind us. I remembered thinking how long it had been since I've breathed in fresh air and lingered in a comfortable cool atmosphere. With just that in mind, each muscle in my body felt at ease and my mind nestled into a peaceful haven.

I enjoyed every minute of the trip - joking with friends, eating good food and spending much needed time with Ghazi. And ohhhhhhh, the fooood! The strawberry scones were to die for! Not to mention the deep fried oyster mushrooms! Yummmmm, I would go there again just for that.

As the trip came to a close and we made our way down, I was somewhat saddened to leave. The weekend was a truly idyllic one for me. You have not seen the last of me Cameron!

Now I'm back in the office and have already seen glimpses of reality that I escaped from over the weekend. But, that's life, eh?

Cupcakes a-buzzing!

And so it began as an experiment. A bit of flour here, sugar there and butter everywhere. What am I talking about? Cupcakes, of course!

Here is a picture of my most recent adventure into cuppie wonderland. Mind you, I still have to practice the icing bit! I'm starting to get addicted to making them. They're quite fun. Oh the possibilities!

For more pictures, go to my Flickr site. I hope you'll enjoy the pictures as much as I enjoyed making (and eating) them.

Where my mind is at the current moment...