Almost given up:
Milestones to reach the final.
Language of dreams
Japanese is almost as difficult as Arabic but I didn’t find hard time learning Arabic as the brain was much fresher with more time to focus on lessons by then. I almost gave up this Japanese lesson as I felt too slow. Until today mixing up between シ and ツ still happens again and again. Different forms of adjective and noun when tenses change still confuse me. The crazy kanji has also tortured me. Why did I even learn this language? 🤪 Drama! 🥰
But hey! I won’t stop until I can read and compose beautiful poems in Japanese. Too much a dream? Ok, I won’t stop until I can present the company’s Code of Conduct in Japanese! Making more sense! 😁
If the teacher isn’t this good, I might have given up earlier. The Sensei is such an expert of Japanese language and culture that she can make me understand why those Japanese I’ve met have behaved so strangely not as I expected Japanese I thought would be. 😝
Some people are just so “like that” regardless they are Japanese, Chinese, Korean, Singaporean or any other….. Life is so interesting, take it easy!
Good Swisss fondue is
Not about cheese, bread or wine.
It’s all chat and friends.
I missed one of my friends, Mrs Fondue whose face suddenly “flew around” for the past 2 months. Her number wasn’t active anymore. Called Mrs Fondue because she was the one introducing me to cheese fondue. Trying to contact people who worked around her with no result, I finally planned making cheese fondue and praying for her good.
Fondue was well served, not with the expected consistency but the taste is almost the same with my very first fondue in Cafe du Soleil.
Yet I could not enjoy this second fondue, even with air conditioner set to low temperature to bring autumn to this small living room. Still failed…. There was melancholic ambience striking me suddenly. No goosebump though 😁
The first fondue tasted greater than this. Maybe because I enjoyed it with Mrs Fondue who invited me to that “traditional” fondue cafe whose air was filled with warm laughter and greetings to the visitors.
This Mrs Fondue was an amazing yet unpopular lady, had done so much to help refugees from dangerous situation. We were amazed with what she and team did. Such a brave lady yet motherly and sweet she was!
She was a wise yet fun lady. She’s probably 15 years older than me but we could still chat like we were of the same age. Lucky to have met people like her in my life!
I’m praying for you, Mrs Fondue and family. If you are still here, I hope we still can see each other again. But if you’ve crossed the bridge, hope you’re smiling receiving my beautiful messages. Enjoy your fondue!
At times you can share, Others you shouldn’t. It may hurt. Different point of view—
I haven’t shared food pics very often in Instagram since some good friends contacted and told me how hard it’s been for them to make ends meet in this pandemic.
One of them said he once had to lower down his pride by agreeing to receive a donation from Australia to feed his wife and children. Sad….
Another said to me “Oh, how nice to have time and cook whatever you wanna eat. Hope we can have that privilege.” I was shocked when she said that as what I had known she had a very good tourism business, and now I knew that she got tremendously affected by this pandemic. Tourism has been hard hit in this period of time.
Not one or two but many came to me to borrow money to survive their business. Double sad! I had to apologise and politely refused to help. Just last year I started limiting lending cash to others. Not that not trusting people but yeah I have been cheated financially by those called friends. Ya, I was stupidly generous and irresponsibly stupid 😂 It should come to an end.
So, with all those reducing showing food pictures in Instagram is the best I can do to help. It is to clear up the jealousy and also to look ordinary. People think you have much money when you eat well. They never know how hard you work for the food on the plate.
Lil knoz ‘bout a gal
Bikin’ crashin’ co’nut tree
Laughed and helped at once
Remembering what you did in childhood is like watching cartoon movies, entertaining and energizing. How painfully the bad time was brought to you, when recalled, it brings a good smile back to your face.
When I was a girl, I loved riding bike. Often time racing with no one just with my beloved red one, enjoying the wind as if I was the queen of the road. Old people knew I was one of the careless.
One day I took off hands from the handlebars to clap hands singing along. Stupidly… No… Excitedly! Thought I was good enough as a bike rider. So, the wind took control of the bike in high speed as we were sliding from a sloping edge. We crashed into a coconut tree in front of neighbour’s house. It was my first bloody accident in life and not the last for sure 😊 I was lucky to live in a community who believed that children of the neighbourhood were the responsibility of all…
By then bike and I always met our rescuers. Now I won’t, so I ride bike wisely…. 😁 So far only one mudguard wheel was gone because of one silly accident —an irresponsible electric scooter didn’t want to slow down and forced me to get stuck to the side of the bike way pushed us to a tree. Hope no accident anymore 👍🏽
Nothing happens for no reason. Always be happy how much ever life sprinkles bitter to your plate. Hope all become good memories when we see it from later time.
By red betel vine
She paints a poem through canvas
Message in a frame.
I’m romantically cheap as I can change all things into love message (to myself and the one that I care so much although secretly) to earn my own satisfaction and to calm inner storm. Gradation of emotions: heavy to light, colourful to dull, abrupt to flowing, all to serve equilibrium to what and who are dealing with me.
A betel vine in a small pot and my remembrance of red betel vines at my best friend’s backyard has drawn me to a flowing river of loving emotion that I realise existing constantly in heart.
All the leaves in my imagination turn to love that has lived generation to generation like leaves lining along the betel vine.
20% of the completion is here, already makes me overwhelmed with the deep love that I always have inside.
I never want to hurt myself, I just didn’t know who you are. I got hurt by a cactus in a desert Who pricks little fingers, Who just want to touch this life softly, Not hurting, not taking anything away.
Wounded, I decided to blame stupidity: Why did I have to have to have to have to have to just touch cacti? I should have left that arid land long before I touched a prickly spirit.
A delayed regret is less important than a lesson learned but it always gives a story the most significant pivot.
Now I’ll just admire from here From where I stand With millions of prayers For a secret journey. Yet I know you are a ghost days and nights.
Someday when I pour down the rain, You’ll know. Love is as sweet as water in drought— Maybe— If it is not late....