Write Drunk, Edit Sober

She ate in Italy. She prayed in India. She loved in Bali. Now I know the reason behind the name of the memoir and the book. My God. Captivated. Gripped. Enticed. Moved. Provoked. Everything. I was all those things and I don't understand why I didn't pick up the book every time I saw it at the bookshops! Every time I finish reading a good book or finish watching a good movie I get into this bubble. Once I'm inside this bubble, I replay scenes in my head. Who said what. Who said what to whom. How I connected to or with that particular part of the story or the movie. How I connected with the characters. What they must be like in real life. Why this happened. How the author or director came up with such ideas. I just go over every little thing over and over in my mind until I'm done. Until I'm ready to move on to something else. And until each favourite quote has been etched in memory. That's just how it is.  That's just how I am

Best friend popped in for a visit yesterday and brought me these lovely Eustomas.  Flowers for the first time in my life. :') I was actually halfway through a post about my recent dengue experience but this morning at around eight I changed my mind about the content and decided that I had something else I was dying to blog about. Have been re-reading Dorothy Koomsons's The Chocolate Run.  Amber the commitment-phobe and Greg the absolute tart. On page 90, she describes about the way she is when she first starts going out with a guy. How she "...started to obsess about every little thing connected with him." And as paranoid as she seemed explaining the way she felt and did things, I think it's how many of us are at the start of a relationship after being in a broken one way before. You start to worry about how it'll play out, about how things will go, about whether or not it'll end like the first one. And then comes all the trusting and

I'm 22. Lol. Crazy huh. Celebrated it this year at home with mom, dad and my sis. I'm actually still recovering from dengue. Got it last week and it completely knocked me off my feet. Terribly high fever, dizziness, lack of appetite, intense nausea, vomiting, diarrhoea. I honestly felt like I was dying. I couldn't support myself enough to even sit up.  Parents finally came down over the weekend. Did a blood test and was immediately admitted.  Platelet count dropped steadily for quite a few days. Stupid, stupid dickhead doctor in Johor Specialist (Dr Faizal) said I could go back and that I didn't need to be admitted. There I was, unable to move or eat and he was giving me this shit. And he didn't look any of us in the eye when he spoke, he looked like a cave man with all that facial hair going on and he refused to hear us speak or answer any of our questions. Racist bastard. If not for my condition I would have honestly caused a hell of a scen