Monday, September 23, 2013

Finding middle ground


To my best friend...

Ive come to the conclusion that people want you more only when they think they dont have you.

And you're right. In a relationship, the person who cares less is the one who controls the dynamics of the liaison. And to the person who cares more, it will always seem as though they are chasing elusive affections and attention.

You know I am hopeless at not caring and equally clueless at trying to act like i do not care. But i am learning from you that to emerge from a trying relationship unscathed, you have to appear like you do not care. 

You know how to be the one who doesnt text back, who doesnt call, who leaves the guy coming back for more and who acts like you dont give two hoots whether he really does or does not. 

Im trying to be like you. To protect myself and not have expectations. To really recover from it all. To essentially be the person who cares less or acts like they care less. 
Im trying...but not giving a damn doesn’t make me stronger or wiser or even happier. And either way, caring too much or not caring at all comes with its fair share of pain.

Not caring just makes me feel less human. 
It makes me feel less and less.
And i dont want to forget.

When all is said and done, everybody needs a person. It is human to want to be loved, to want to be taken care of and to want to take care of someone else. To deny that, is simply to deny one’s humanity.

Being like you does not come naturally to me. So even if you tear your hair out trying to tell me that being the person on your flip side has too much potential damage, i cant see it.  
I dont want to see it because the irony is, i think that im the one who's doing it right. I belong to the category of hopeless people who let all their emotions out at once, who will tell you how much they care or love someone right from the outset, who essentially will show hand and pull out all the stops, until all signs point towards us barking up the wrong tree. 
And i (stubbornly) think we are the ones on the right track. 

I know exactly how excruciating it feels like to be on my side. 
Ive hurt people all because i wore my heart on my sleeve and then cruelly hid it. And no one knows better than me to have their heart broken because they cared too much. Its a bleak, dark place where i hope never to revisit.
I know the journey to returning to being ok is long and difficult.
 Yet this journey is supposed to have been worth facing for i am supposed to emerge stronger and wiser, and less likely to make the same mistakes again.

Ive made mistakes of telling people i love them too much, too often. Ive lost sight of my fairy tale ending, ended up being the person chasing seemingly elusive affections and even getting it all so horribly wrong.

And so you say im supposed to have learnt from my mistakes.  Much as i would like to will myself to do that and strengthen my resolve, i simply cant do it. And you know i will put myself on the line over and over just to try to find the perfected version of what i had lost.

So my dear, my point is if you act like you don’t care, people will eventually start to believe you. And i dont want that.
Therefore if you feel that i care too much or feel too much or love too much, i want to tell you that i think the alternative is worse. 

Im trying to find that elusive middle ground between our two extremes. But when it comes to love, I don’t think there is such a thing as loving too much or showing someone that you love too much. And if there is, I think it’s a state of mind thats applaudable and not something to be ashamed of. Because if you don’t tell people and show people that you do care, that you do have feelings for them, that you do love them, how the hell are they supposed to know?
Im trying to protect myself just as you have lectured me over and over again. But life is short and i dont want to go through it not letting anyone know how much i care, how much i can love. 

Ive been asked before how does one learn not to feel. I dont know because i dont want not to feel. For if i dont feel, ill forget how much i cared.

So if my heart breaks, let it break. Because i dont want to convince myself that im fine when im not. Just be there for me if it happens, ok?

Xoxoxox

Xoxoxo


Wednesday, September 18, 2013

Regrets

I miss our life together. I miss the silly, happy times; the comfortable companionship, the simple joy of just being together. I still remember flashes of things that we did together, conversations we had, places we visited.

We were really good together, and you know that. And I will not have anyone, not even you, belittle what we had.

You say i dont understand. I do really. My heart breaks even as I write this and I want to tell you that not a day goes by that I don't wonder why things are this screwed up. Not a day goes by that i dont wonder what if certain words had been said, certain things had been done, certain decisions never made. Hindsight is an out and out bitch.

But having said that, I cannot go on living a half arsed life. Yet you have been in my life far too long to just let go. 

There are the loves that can’t be tempered by circumstances, distance or time, and our split that i made myself call was really just a “No matter what happens, i know we will still have this connection.” It was never meant as "goodbye".

Even if my heart hurts in the moments when i recall certain memories only belonging to us, I knew that you will always be there. You are someone I will never be able to truly say goodbye to, how much more so when I had to leave unwillingly.
 






If for nothing else, i just want our relationship to still be as fun as it always was. I dont know if we will go through the rest of our lives with this overhanging shadow, nevertheless that closed chapter is by no means a representation that everything is dead and buried.


So this is me with no filter, cos someone's got to say something and im never ever going to live with regrets again.

Please remember what we had and dont choose to dwell on things that are skewed from reality. 

I need you in my life. For good.

If you are happy now, then tell me and i will find it in me to be happy for you....one day, when and if all wounds can be healed.
 
I really dont want to feel that i have to validate my worth by having someone love me. 



候鸟飞多远 也想念着南方
旅人的天涯 到尽头还是家
下一站 还感觉不来是冷还是暖
天一亮 我又离开

如果我回来 有没有人等待
如果我孤单 会不会谁明白
想像着 再见面却怕自己不勇敢
想拥抱 在你胸怀

时光隧道 传来回音
请你听一听
那是我们当时
幸福约定

有些人 在心底从来没忘记
有些事 有些梦 还找不到谜底
有些话 越欲言又止 就越是动听
让我们 靠近 想悄悄告诉你
多爱你

那颗心 还一直守候没离去
走遍了 全世界 还是你最亲密
记得吗 你最爱的歌 让我再唱起
让我们 相遇 要悄悄告诉你
多爱你

Friday, September 06, 2013

Remarkable Rinjani - I surived

I underestimated this remarkable mountain.

I thought that my relatively fit physique would allow me to scale this mountain fairly easily and I was lulled into a false sense of security and did not particularly step up on my training regime.

I couldn't be more wrong.

The first day of the 4 day 3 night trek started off pretty easily.

Vast savannah slopes stretching for miles all around us, merging gradually into slightly steeper climbs at certain areas. The sun-kissed landscape was exquisite - with cows lazily grazing, tall grasses gently blowing in the breeze, the occasional mist obscuring the breath taking views and the brooding mountain looming up in the distance.

 
Pretty postcard views
We were all fresh and on a dizzying high of being out in the great outdoors and we made good progress initially, steadily climbing as we took in the pretty scenery along the way. 

 
Our Supermen

We had a motley crew of two guides and 6 porters accompanying us on the trek - Juki the madcap, lecherous lead guide, his sidekick Sab whom he ribbed incessantly and their supporting team of porters.

These supermen carried our food, sleeping bags, tents, foldable chairs (after all it IS the luxury package) up the mountain in baskets attached to bamboo poles. They skittered from rock to rock effortlessly, in slippers no less, toting the poles like they were simply huge foam dumbbells.

 
They were always one step ahead of us, making sure that whenever we arrived at each rest point/campsite, everything was readied and waiting for us. They cooked for us, set up our chairs and tents, served us copious amounts of hot ginger tea/kopi/coke/sprite/pocari and gave us massages (okay as for the last one, it was only for us girls!).

Our crew amazed us endlessly with their quiet strength, their creativity in the camp kitchen and their cheeky sense of humour. Juki regaled us with lewd jokes and countless pranks on Sab and we taught him our repertoire of (dirty) words in Mandarin and Singlish.
 
It was a non stop, riot of fun camaraderie all the way up the mountain.


lecherous Juki in his element
 


 
Luxury lunching

As we trekked through the gently ascending wide open foothills of the mountain, the air became distinctively cooler and fresher, a stark contrast to the stifling heat we were all so accustomed to in the city we had left behind.
 

We were right smack in the middle of a huge expanse of flat terrain, a rocky trail snaking its way up the mountain in the distance. Despite the brilliant sunshine on our faces, mist was billowing all around us, offering an occasional cool respite as we approached our lunch stop. Ominous looking dark clouds were gathering in the distance but our guide reassured us that it was a common occurrence and nothing to worry about.
 
 
 
 

And then we saw it. A huge tentage with 6 foldable chairs already set up beneath, was waiting for us. It was a welcome site for 6 aching bums to sink into.

Lunching in shady comfort
Our crew was all set up with portable gas canisters, woks and all the ingredients for our lunch and they were cheerfully whipping up a feast for us. We had fried chicken, mixed vegetables, keropok and rice, washed down with ginger tea and coke, all savored under the shady comfort of our tentage.
 
the camp kitchen
the grub
A Caucasian trekker curiously wandered over from his group who were miserably huddled under some nearby trees that offered scant shade and enviously commented that our fried chicken looked delicious. Needless to say, course it was!

We kinda derived some sadistic pleasure having fellow trekkers shoot us dirty, green eyed looks as we lounged around in our foldable chairs at each rest stop over the next couple of days. The luxury package was well worth every single cent!
 
Green eyed fellow trekker alert!

And so we relished our very first lunch of the trek as we watched our crew use their hands to wolf down their simple meal made out of our leftover ingredients, feeling grateful for their unreserved good nature and cheerful servitude on this trip. Unanimous votes to a truly enjoyable and unforgettable lunch in the great outdoors.


Relentless hike

To say that it was laborious heaving our aching bodies and full tummies onwards was an understatement. But we persisted, buoyed by the excitement of more varying scenery our guide promised that we would see along the way.

climbing past landscape destroyed by forest fires 
 
gorge-ous views
 
The undulating terrain gave way to more challenging rocky outcrops where we needed to exert more effort to negotiate. Our $10 walking sticks came in handy, helping us to balance without putting too much strain on our core muscles.
 
 
 
 
The trek upwards was relentless, with long stretches of terrain meandering up ahead in the distance. We were all at comparable levels of fitness so no one was particularly left straggling behind. We mostly hiked along in companionable silence, pausing occasionally to take pictures of the landscape.
 
local version of goring pisang at one of the rest stops

 
 
Hardy low lying vegetation lined the lower slopes, giving way to a bushy brown carpet that was dotted with patches of green, the vegetation becoming sparser the higher we climbed.
 
tired people kept going by our crazy guides
 
 
Stretching and refuelling were de rigeur at each rest point as we all got ravenous pretty quickly from all our exertions.
 
our view at the rest point
 
elevation check 2005m
 
 










 
 



Juki, with his wide, permanent grin and boundless energy, entertained us incessantly on the uphill climb. He had "Prankster" written in invisible ink on his forehead and his jokes and pranks took the tedium and effort out of the climb. 
 
Almost to base camp!
 
 
 Finally after an extremely demanding and punishing climb for about an hour and a half, we finally reached the ridge where we would set up camp for the night. But the view more than made up for our sore and tired muscles.
 
 
 
 
A weather beaten sign proudly declaring the presence of "Puncak Rinjani"greeted us at the top of the arduous climb

It was a clear day with cobalt blue skies above us. The ridge was a flat expanse of barren and exposed soil and rock and a biting wind was blowing across, scattering the clouds and changing the scenery ever so often. We scrabbled for our jackets before whipping out our cameras to immortalise the landscape.
 
elevation check 2657m

 
Rare still of the peak ahead of us with no clouds obscuring it
 

panoramic view of the ridge
Our porters had arrived at base camp way ahead of us so our comfy deck chairs were already assembled in a thoughtful row facing the crater lake, with steaming cups of ginger tea and platefuls of fried banana fritters set down beside them.
 
basking in the welcome sunshine amidst the bone chilling winds
 
our toilet tent in dazzling sunlight
 
How many of us have had a chance to piss to a million dollar view of an active volcano's crater lake and its smoking cone?


 
 

And so we spent a phenomenal night camping on the ridge, sipping hot chocolate as we looked out for shooting stars flying through a huge expanse of sky dotted with stars so big and bright, they seemed closer than normal. If not for the bone chilling cold and the prospect of not being able to get up for the summit climb in a couple of hours, I think all of us would have gladly stayed outside to savour the mesmerizing night sky.


Sunrise Summit

It was around 2am when we awoke to piping hot ginger tea and coffee.

All of us were not well rested, having tossed and turned fitfully for the past 5 hours in the freezing cold of the exposed mountain ridge.  Alpine starts at unearthly hours are never fun; getting up way too early, groggily piling on more layers of clothes, fumbling around under headlights, unpacking and repacking the backpack you were sure you had already loaded properly the night before and taking the first miserable cold step outside your relatively warm tent.

We started hitting the trail around 230am, muscles protesting vehemently in the pre-dawn blackness.

The initial trek was fairly steep and we passed by many other campsites just further up of ours, the only sounds were our footfalls in the gravelly terrain.  After about an hour and a half, the trail became thick with loose rocks piling upon a 45 degree ascent. Our feet started sinking into the loose pumice stone gravel like quick sand. For each step we took upwards, we sometimes slid back three.

I began to really slow down now. Every step was a huge effort, and my frozen muscles were threatening to go on strike, ignoring the urgings of my determined mind. The menacing trail swallowed my every step and drew me into its depths, mocking the huge amount of energy I expended to edge just an inch or two forward in ankle deep volcanic skree.

Our legs burned and our lungs were heaving in the by now much thinner mountain air. Walking sticks pressed into the soft trail for support, we slowed down to a laboured trudge and concentrated on simply putting one foot ahead of the other and gain as much ground as possible with each step. All we could manage at each rest point were a commiserating silence, the kind that is only forged in times of misery.

We had seemed to make such good progress before but in the pitch darkness, I imagined the summit looming even further away than before.

Our headlights illuminated the narrow pathways, with either sides of us promising a certain quick but extremely painful death with a misplaced step.

As we made our way towards the final climb of the summit, the sun began to present itself in orange-yellow streaks through the clouds. All of us took cover behind a rocky outcrop that shielded us from the biting winds and started fumbling for our cameras with fingers that were frozen stiff.
 
 
surise atop the mountain

 High above the clouds, in the surreal light of dawn, I found myself staring at one of the most spectacular sights I had ever seen.

The panorama was akin to an elaborate Peter Jackson film set than reality. In front of me, the imposing peak sliced through the underbelly of fluffy white clouds.


narrow trail leading to the summit

To my right, the edges of the crater lake had myriad hues of blue, white, pink and brown, its emerald waters glistening in the dawn sunlight and its smoking cone throwing everything into soft focus.
 
Rinjani's smoking crater lake in the first rays of sunlight
 
 
ethereal beauty revealed just a few minutes later

 
To my left, the steep and relentless drop a few hundred meters down as far as I could see, and dotted with a few sorry excuses for shrubs, seemed almost apocalyptic.  
 
don't look down now...
 
Behind me, Rinjani cast an imposing shadow over all the other mountains in the distance, as if challenging any to better its majesty.

Rinjani's shadow
 
 Through the pain and the exhaustion and the dread of still more of both, I felt so alive. I felt so thankful that my tortured limbs had got me up there, above it all, to be able to gape at the exquisite scenery all around me.

At 530am in the freezing cold and pale light of dawn at about 3500m above all of Lombok but still an hour from the summit, Felice Benuzzi's book "No picnic on Mount Kenya"came to mind.

Just like Benuzzi's tale, although our adventure was nothing compared to his heart stopping encounters, this trek has proved fantastic and we all agreed that we had already accomplished enough for us to be proud of.


  
 
 
 

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