Insecurities.

My biggest flaw right now, is my overwhelming sense of insecurity, in myself, and in others.

I exude a sense of confidence whenever I'm conversing with someone, but that's only because I speak well, and have enough street and worldly knowledge to hold my own.

When it comes to dating someone, I get flustered and insecure at the first signs of irregularity and unbalance.

I've been dating this French guy, Olivier, recently, and it had been going pretty well. Outside of our first date, of which we spent 6.5 hours together, we've only hung out at his place where he either cooked, or I brought dinner over.

It was quaint. It was nice. It was very comfortable. It reminded me of Mike. O and I just spoke on the phone for 45minutes after yet another miscommunication and difference in style, which led us to not meeting up for the 2nd week in a row.

I shouldn't, and couldn't, blame him for the way he likes to handle his schedule, because that's the way he wants to live his life right now - one day at a time, after his 8 years relationship had just ended earlier this year. Sometimes he wakes up feeling depressed, and it's hard to shake it off, and when I woke up late today and didn't text him in time, he made plans for the rest of his day despite us confirming it last night. While I do not agree with the way he's handled things, I recognised it as a coping mechanism, something I'm painfully acquainted with.

What scared me was how I've came to be reliant on him, after such a short time(even for me). That when after all was said and done, and I laid crying on my bed, I finally realised I'd let myself be so emotional over O, because he was like a cross between Mike and Randy - not wild, not a bad boy, like a tall and handsome stable rock, a lot like Mike was, but also filled with emotional issues, just like Randy was.

I've been drowning in a sea of loneliness and uncertainties, and O was the first proper rock that came by that I could tether myself to. I suppose it's for the better that I had the semi-breakdown, because that's probably not a road I would like to travel down.

It was a lot easier when a few weeks ago, I was on first dates with O and a few other guys, and I generally did not give a shit. I should not have started to make a choice that early.

I'm just lonely. I'm not emotionally ready for a relationship yet. I probably never will, not until I find that true rock in my life.

Wilson is a safer choice, even if we don't end up seriously dating - I'll talk about W another time; I'm still trying to come into terms with the fact that I was emotionally reliant on O, and not because I actually do like like him. 

I mean, I shouldn't be, right? 3 days on now, and I barely think about him anymore. And not when it still tears me up inside whenever I think about Mike. And not when I also have some fuzzy feelings for W. And then again, how do I feel about Mike, now? How could love still be love, after the 7th breakup? You take something apart often enough, and eventually it will not resemble the pure form it was presented in, at its very beginning. Yet I miss Mike with a terrible vengeance, that it hurts, physically.

Sigh, I don't know. I don't know anything, anymore. I hate that I allow men to have so much sway over me. I have so little friends left because of my issues, that even my closest friend is leaving me behind. I have no man, and my family life is in shambles. It's all rather pathetic right now, but I'm glad for the little things that keeps me moving on, and the people who still sincerely want me in their lives as a friend.

I just need to persevere on.

Apology and absolution, are not synonymous.

Heyo!

Got back at about 10ish pm, after I kinda spontaneously decided to watch Jurassic World on my own after work. Terminator Genisys and Jurassic World back-to-back, both of which are classics from my childhood; Jen is a happy camper!

It was a pretty excellent movie, and I teared up at all the mopey parts, but I teared mostly because I was supposed to watch this with Mike. In fact, I booked the tickets for a few Saturdays ago, but we missed it after waking up and messing around in bed, not knowing my phone picked up the IndoSat carrier, and got switched to Indonesia timing instead.

Well, I'm sure he's already watched it on a date.

Anyway, I'm only posting now because I spent the last 2 hours trying to talk sense into my mother. Things at the homefront has been steadily getting worse. The SIL took the kids and left over a week ago, but she eventually let the kids return last week to attend their tuitions, and what not. As of right now, she's still staying alone in their flat at the Pinnacle, and refuses to come back here. 

She's been forcing her hand and trying to make my brother shift over to Tanjong Pagar along with the rest of their family, and stop caring for my mother, so my mum and I begun seriously discussing the option of selling our family home, which is in our names.

My family life is so complicated and simply put, fucked up, that it will take a novel-sized entry to talk about it, and maybe I will, one day, talk about it. But not now.

Long story short, it might be a more viable option if our two families split and lead separate lives, especially since the SIL wants my brother to stop giving allowance to my mother. We'll buy a smaller flat elsewhere with the proceeds, and I'll pay for all our future upkeep.

It'll be tough for my brother for his convenience to get into work, but something's got to give, right?

---

One of the many topics I've touched upon with my mum tonight, was the fact that a big part of our current situation was set in motion by herself, albeit unknowingly, and she did not, and still do not, absorb the responsibilities of what her past and current actions have wrought. A few new revelations came into light tonight, and she looked to me for immediate forgiveness and understanding, the moment she finished her announcement.

While our mum has finally realised the impact of her past actions on our psyche, she expects us to forgive her, to take pity on her. Every time she apologises, it was done with a tinge of "Don't you realise how poor thing I am?"

I told her tonight that "apology and absolution are not synonymous. You have to truly understand the impact of your behaviour, and work on healing, and embetter yourself from the within. We forgave you easily, because we are your children, but you need to stop assuming that you deserve absolution from anyone and everyone, just for owing up to your mistakes, but subsequently repeat the same mistakes over and over again."

I follow a very uncomplicated rule of thumb - Own your mistakes, live your mistakes. You've made your bed, and lie in it. I don't tend to let my mistakes happen the 2nd or 3rd time, because fool me twice, shame on me, right? Unfortunately, that one rule does not apply to me when I'm knees-deep in a relationship, ha.

Anywayyyy. Back to the topic. My whole point of this entry, is that Apology does not equate Absolution. Apology paves the path to absolution, but it's what you do next, that shapes how the dice will fall. - Jennifer Lim G.S. (yes, I'm doing it. I'm quoting myself xD)

To prevent history from happening again, you need to pull your heads out of your own arses instead of avoiding the mistake in shame. Owe up to it, work towards embetterment, stop lingering on what's done, and move the fuck on.

Guilt.

guilt  /gɪlt/ Show Spelled Pronunciation [gilt] Show IPA
–noun 1. the fact or state of having committed an offense, crime, violation, or wrong, esp. against moral or penal law; culpability: He admitted his guilt.
2. a feeling of responsibility or remorse for some offense, crime, wrong, etc., whether real or imagined.
3. conduct involving the commission of such crimes, wrongs, etc.: to live a life of guilt.

Guilt is a cognitive or an emotional experience that occurs when a person realizes or believes—accurately or not—that they have violated a moral standard, and is responsible for that violation. It is closely related to the concept of remorse.

Catholic Guilt

Catholic guilt is the term used to identify the supposed excess guilt felt by Catholics and lapsed Catholics. The term Catholic Guilt is controversial as it is not clearly differentiated from the guilt felt by members of other religions or moral codes.

Living in sin, with sin, by sin, for sin, every hour, every day, year in, year out. Waking up with sin in the morning, seeing the curtains drawn on sin, bathing it, dressing it, clipping diamonds to it, feeding it, showing it round, giving it a good time, putting it to sleep at night with a tablet of Dial if it's fretful. Always the same, like an idiot child carefully nursed, guarded from the world.

But sometimes, on a defiant day, I would tell myself, "Never regret anything because it was what we wanted. What we want. Guilt is the price we pay willingly for doing what we are going to do anyway."


In ipsa dubitatione facinus inest, etiamsi ad id non pervenerint.
Guilt is present in the very hesitation, even though the deed be not committed.


Has it been 8 months, already?


While I know I often preach, "No apologies, no regrets", and that I said once that I've stopped listening to my conscience, it IS there. Nagging, tugging at me. Every recollection of you is bittersweet because it is tinged with the burden of guilt. But I must admit, there was also the pleasure, the joy, the excitement.

I am smart, but not too intelligent. I'm courageous, but not too brave. Not brave or intelligent enough to know what to do.


What about you? Do you?

Clearing out the virtual spiderwebs.

Author's note: I have noticed that I have a bad habit of late. I would mention about stuff like this and that, but sometimes the matter will slip my mind and I will fail to update about them in the blog.
So anyway, H is a certified asswipe just like the French Canadian guy Glenn, who volunteerily promised to contact/talk soon, but still disappears on you. *Shrugs* I was pissed off, but not hurt.
As for A, we have mutually decided it was best that we put an end to whatever it was, before things got out of hand. I truly understood that it was for the best... But I still couldn't help the niggling "What if..."


Hello my dear blogders,

Yes, your blog mistress is back after a 2 weeks' hiatus. I suppose the mundane life of an administrator would drain any creative writing juices that one might possess lol.

Anyway, I came back with an update of my life - I have decided to go back to school next year. :)

Yes, you've heard me, Jen wants to study. Amazing, innit? But I do, I really do want to. I want to be able to do something with my life besides PA/administration, and I won't be able to without a cert.

And if I need a certificate, I'll be damned if I take a course I have no interest in.


Right now, I've trimmed down the list to 5 options:


1) Diploma in Media & Design (majoring in Advertising)

2) Diploma in Theatre,

3) Diploma in Journalism,

4) Diploma in Mass Communications,

5) Specialist Diploma in Applied Psychology.


Options 1 and 2 would be a throw-up between Nanyang Academy of Fine Arts or LaSalle; Any suggestions? Diploma in Journalism will be from Beacon University which, although my greatest interest IS journalism, the 'school' in Bugis doesn't look promising, much less the cert. that I will get from it. Diploma in Mass comm. or Psychology would be from MDIS, and the Dip. in Psychology will be from Raffles College. (I was advised against REC because the certificate would be useless as it's apparently not recognised by Singapore Psychological Society!)

Recently, I have been trudging through my life with balls and chains on my feet. More often than not, I wake up every morning asking myself, "What the fuck am I doing with my life? What the fuck am I doing at State Street?" Working as an office girl is not what I want or NEED.

It is not without trepidation for me to make this decision of going back to school. I would have to forsake a steady income for full-time studies, which will be a burden on my mum for the next 3 years. What if I fucking fail, again? I will be disappointing my mum and my friends who were always there for me despite my fuckups. AGAIN.

But I'm done with fucking up my life.

Psychology, and Criminal Justice & Legal were the first things I'd wanted so much to go into when I was growing up. Of course, that dream was shattered when I became a rebel during my teenage years and stopped caring about school, thus resulting in bad academic choices, and subsequently dropping out of NP. Afterwards, my dream evolved to studying in an US community college(I had my sight on Pasadena), and then stream into university after the first year, and major in English. There's so many subjects I am fascinated with... English, English Lit., Art History, Psychology, etc. Hell, I'll even take up Calculus if I am able to realise the dream. In brief, I'd much prefer the freedom to pick and choose whatever classes I want, just as long as I can manage the time, and have enough relative modules to credit for my major.

Alas, there was -is- this important factor that I cannot afford to overlook - Financing. My mother simply do not have the means to fund any overseas studies. I doubt my father will be willing to step up to plate.

Writing is my passion but acting and oral competence is what I feel I have a flair for. Combining these two would be a plus point for Advertising, and it will be a better choice for my career path. But like I said, taking up any of the courses would not be without trepidation, because:

i) I am quite worried about my proficiency in drawing. I'm okay with amateur sketching, but that's about it.

ii) I would be among 17 years old kids if I choose NAFA or LaSalle. *Shudders*

iii) Statistical analysis is heavy in Psychology. Business Statistics killed me in NP.

iv) Not to forget, there's also the fierce competition I will face by the time I finish my BA (hons) degree in my early 30s.
.
.
.

Christ. 30s.


I need a cigarette.

It was fun but...

What's next, now? My mind is running through with a million and one scenarios.

Of course, there could be worse outcomes... But I certainly do not want to become your fubu.

I can't keep doing such things to myself or I'll slowly die inside(if my stupidity doesn't cause my death first).

I want to stay in my protective bubble - thank you very much- believing that one day, one day I can find someone who wants me. Who loves me. Who honestly wants to be with me. Not the constant flow of psychos and men who want to go wham bam thank you Jen!, and I end up becoming a men-hating cat lady living in a one-room flat in Toa Payoh, 30+ years down the road.


It has to be all or nothing, and despite how nice it would be, I know you can't and won't be the one giving it to me. Oh well.

Awakenings.

Author's sidenotes: Yes, I've finally changed the layout to a much simpler, bugfree one. Hooray!

*Touches keyboard awkwardly* Well ok, it's not as if I don't touch it every single day at work, but to blog? *Shakes head* Can't say I'm used to it anymore. I'm a lil... afraid.

These months past, I've gotten used to bottling my emotions inside me once again, that when they threaten to spill over, I usually direct them to an, more often than not, unhealthy outlet.

So yeah, even though the words now come easily to me as if I've never stopped blogging, I'm afraid. Petrified even, that my emotions might betray me, make me feel exposed, vulnerable.


I'd prefer to do without that particular piece of emotion.


What drove me to writing in particular today, was the foolishness of Man. How is it that God created Man who generally (not all, per se; I meant generally) only cherish what they've lost and can't have?

When it all boils down to a choice between what they've lost and what they can't have, Man, whose curiosity are piqued, will be more desirous of what they can't have; a toy that slipped past their fingers and noticed again when dangled infront of them.

And why is it that the sands of Time tend to lend a fairytale-like touch to a faded, distant memory?

I guess there's definitely two sides of a coin to mull over.

Through a series of events in my momentus life, I'd learnt to never take affairs of the heart for granted anymore.

Yet, albeit having tasted the sweetest drop of ambrosia that only Love can provide, I'd also ridden the dark unrelenting storm of depression and anguish.

I barely lived to tell the tale; My battle armour torn and tattered, damages irreparable.

Those experiences were what made me a coward who plead for Love to favour me with another opportunity at its ambrosia, but also afraid to fight for it.

In the past, I would step into Love's battlefield with my sword drawn from its sheath, the moment wedging a warcry out of me, but now, once the enemies appear, I would thrust my sword into the sand and get knocked down to my knees.

Past wounds and battle scars have affected me too greatly to revive the fervour I used to possess, yet the allure of charging back into the battlefield in search of that... something, is undeniable.

Yes, you could say I've at least ventured a try, but did that make me any different from the unappreciative Man I've described above?


No... We're all just fools for love. I'm still searching for that something to light up my path.


"…The heavens, as troubled with man’s act, Threatens his bloody stage: by the clock ‘t is day, And yet dark night strangles the travelling lamp. Is ‘t night’s predominance, or the day’s shame, That darkness does the face of earth entomb, When living light should kiss it?"

P.S: By the way, to the person who requested me to change my MSN tagline if it was on him, to which I had to lie partially through my teeth(it was about him and also another man) to say it wasn't, here's this: I AM a better woman without you! :D