A Penny For Your Thoughts, Down The Memory Lane, writing

Opening my eyes…

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I’ve been meaning to write about this, but I have been putting this off. You see… I’m quite a Procrastination Queen when I want to be.

Anyway, to cut the long story short… Mamarazzi and I were rampaging around in the vicinity of a certain bookstore somewhere last month. Rampaging around is our favourite pass time. You see… we enjoy terrorizing people with our presence and we enjoy stuffing our face with food, and it is amazing that we did not ballooned into the mold of a whale just yet, praise the good Lord for that.

That rampaging session was a little bit more extraordinary than our usual session, because a friend who came back from a country so far away joined us for lunch, and later on, a trip to a bookstore. (This friend enjoyed reading too… so it was a pleasure for us to brainwash him to spend his money there… LOL)

That’s the first time I met the said friend, and I’m really pleased that he’s not horrified with our monstrous antics. The friend gave me a little handphone accessory as something to remember him by, and we had a great time having local delicacies together as our lunch. We had small talks… getting to know each other with the limited time. And I must say, it was a memorable meet-up.

However, that is not the thing that makes the meeting memorable and rather eye opening for me. It is what he said that makes the meeting imprinted in my memory… and I suspect it will be imprinted in my memories forever.

I was asking him, rather excitedly… whether he enjoyed living overseas with exotic food abundant, with beautiful cultures to observe, and 4 seasons to enjoy.  I sat there… having goo goo eyes, expecting him to tell me something that is worthy of my novel.

But… to my surprise…he said… so-so… and told me that Malaysia have more varieties of foreign food sold and tastes better. And I was told… that he thinks that the town he lives in… is rather… lifeless in comparison to Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia despite of it’s historical value to the rest of the world. Our country is much more vibrant than where he lives.

I was taken aback. Really taken aback. I did not expect him to tell me that. I expect him to tell me his experience in a foreign land… I expect him to tell me how he enjoyed the vibrant life there… and I expect him to tell me how he find the culture in that country is fascinating and beautiful.

When my friend said that… I realize that perhaps I’ve been missing… or rather… not seeing a lot of thing. I have been somewhat blinded, for I have lived in Malaysia far too long to appreciate the variety of food and the abundance of our culture. I have been living far too long in Malaysia to realize that I don’t actually need to go any part in the world to sample tasty, exotic food or to experience an exotic, exciting life. It’s all here… in Malaysia.

I don’t need to go to Japan to eat sushi, sashimi or tempura…. or oyakudon… or authentic udon noodles…or my favourite takoyaki…

I don’t need to fly to Mexico for tacos, tamales, burritos or even fajitas…

I don’t have to pay air fair to Italy if I want to have spaghetti,  or extra large pizza to comfort myself with when I’m stressed to the max…

I don’t have to go to India so that I can eat briyani, prata, chappati, hot spicy curries…

I don’t have to go to Thailand for my favourite Tomyam soup… mango salads…pattaya and pad thais…

And hell… I don’t even have to go to the Middle East for some kebabs that I adore so much, and omigosh, I don’t need to go to France for the baguette and croissant that I almost can’t live without!

I may not realize it… but whatever I want to eat…it’s all here in Malaysia…I just need to know where to get it… and I daresay that if I go to some local food court, I can have almost everything that the entire world have to offer and at a reasonable price too. All I need is just money to buy them!

Varieties. Vibrants. International. Nightlife. We have it all in Malaysia. And I am ashamed to say that I tend to take that for granted…we actually have a lot of things, and yet, we do not see that. We are rich in culture…we are beautiful…and yet… why do we not appreciate it? Is it because the grass is always greener on the other side?

Cleffairy: With our appetite and appreciation for food, we could actually be the centre of the world…. we never fail to not only bring back all sort of exotic recipe back, but we manage to improvise them too! But I think… I still need to go to Mexico or Italy if I want someone to serenade to me. LOL.

ps: There’s no prize guessing what I’ll be doing for the upcoming Raya holiday. LOL…. lemme see… ketupat, lemang, rendang… gulai kawah… dodol…wajik… serunding…*YUMMY* *DROOL*

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Book review, Down The Memory Lane, E-books giveaways, Time Heals What Love And Reason Cannot, writing

Inkworld Trilogy

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Whoever said adults could not indulge the children within them by reading children fantasy books? I do that pretty often, and I learned more from those children books than adult books.

Last weekend, I managed to finish the Inkworld Trilogy (ebook version, though) and I feel completely sated and refreshed. The child in me was ‘well fed’.

The books… are pretty much like The Neverending story… with huge twists, cha cha and samba.

Book 1 – Inkheart
One cruel night, Meggie’s father reads aloud from a book called INKHEART– and an evil ruler escapes the boundaries of fiction and lands in their living room. Suddenly, Meggie is smack in the middle of the kind of adventure she has only read about in books. Meggie must learn to harness the magic that has conjured this nightmare. For only she can change the course of the story that has changed her life forever. This is INKHEART–a timeless tale about books, about imagination, about life. Dare to read it aloud.

Book 2 – Inkspell
Although a year has passed, not a day goes by without Meggie thinking of Inkheart, the book whose characters came to life – and changed her life forever.

But for Dustfinger, the fire-eater brought into being from words, the need to return to the original tale has become desperate. When he finds a crooked storyteller with the magical ability to read him back, Dustfinger leaves behind his young apprentice Farid and plunges into the medieval inkscape once more.

Distraught, Farid goes in search of Meggie, and before long both are caught inside the book, too. There they meet Inkheart’s author, Fenoglio, now living within his own story. But the tale is much changed, and threatening to evolve in ways none of them would have ever imagined. Will Meggie, Farid, and Fenoglio manage to write the wrongs of a charmed world? Or is their story on the brink of a very bad ending?


Book 3 – Inkdeath
The Adderhead–his immortality bound in a book by Meggie’s father, Mo–has ordered his henchmen to plunder the villages. The peasants’ only defense is a band of outlaws led by the Bluejay–Mo’s fictitious double, whose identity he has reluctantly adopted. But the Book of Immortality is unraveling, and the Adderhead again fears the White Women of Death. To bring the renegade Bluejay back to repair the book, the Adderhead kidnaps all the children in the kingdom, dooming them to slavery in his silver mines unless Mo surrends. First Dustfinger, now Mo: Can anyone save this cursed story?

Now… my say:

I would give the trilogy 5 stars as a whole. I wish the final volume had been tightened a little. The plot threads come together well in this fast paced conclusion of an outstanding fantasy series.

Beware, the books will capture you, and brings you into a world full of surprises.

I must admit, I can never guess what will happen with the plot. It’s turning and twisting and full of life. I only have the pdf version of the trilogy, and since it’s a good read, I think I’m gonna buy it. Anyone wants to read this before buying the hardcopy? Email me at cleffairy@gmail.com  or leave a comment here and I’ll send them to you.

Cleffairy: Don’t kill your imaginations, for you will kill the child in you.

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A Penny For Your Thoughts, Current Issue, writing

Deep down…deeper down…

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I find it rather alarming and disturbing that we still have racial issue and tension could be stoked easily among major races in Malaysia. Why can’t we accept each and everyone of us as we are? Why must we hate each other and hurt each other?

I think…such things happened because we couldn’t… or rather,  refuse to learn and understand each other’s religion and culture. And therefore, we could not accept one another as we are when deep down, we’re just the same. We’re human of the same species, with different religious views and cultural practices.

Just look at the video above… one Negro… and one Indian man… singing the same song. One may not understand what the other is singing… but one could try to love it and see that the melody that the other man is singing is as beautiful as the song in his own language.

Here’s some food for your thoughts, folks:

What matters to God is our love for Him and our love for each other. Wealth, power and status count for nothing in the kingdom of God. When we truly love our neighbors, we do our part to make the world a better place, and we find our own fulfillment in life.

Have a happy, productive, and fulfilling Monday, folks. Let not the Monday blues gets to you, for there are many others who would do anything for just another day.

Cleffairy: Do not judge, or you too will be judged. For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you. “Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? How can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when all the time there is a plank in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye. (Matthew 7:1-5)

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A Penny For Your Thoughts, Down The Memory Lane, Time Heals What Love And Reason Cannot, writing

You’re my immortal…

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Initially…I wanted to write about this a couple of days ago. But I couldn’t put things into words, and I’m not quite sure if it was a correct timing too.

Before I digress further… I have to say that as an author…I am quite complicated. Well, at least in some ways. Some may say that I am like an open book, readable and easy to comprehend. While some…may say I’m like an alien. They would have to dissect my head open to understand my thinking and my behaviour.

There are people whom I let them into my life…while there are some others… I prayed for them from afar, because I am afraid to get to know them for the fear that when I get close to them, they will leave me and I will be hurt when they are gone. I wonder if this is the correct thing to do. But I am a mere mortal. I’m afraid, for pain and sorrow, especially when things are inevitable.

Now…today…my conscience have been practically slicing my heart, and I am forced to put this into words.

Some of you may know… and some of you may be left in the dark…about the recent passing of Lisaone. I have been following her blog, and many other cancer patients like Ellie Shoal Potvin’s religiously, quietly, privately since early of this year.

I tried to correspondewith the said lady (Lisa) via email… I believe, a tad too late. Somewhere in April or was it May? I had no response from her. Perhaps… she was already very ill at that time.

The subject of cancer is very close to home to me. You see… I grew up a sickly child. I was even thrown into a comatose for a couple of days when I was 13 because of a lung illness after an open chest operation, and it was a miracle that I survived.

People were more prepared for my funeral rather than see me wake up. A team of doctors were amazed that I woke up, and everyone were singing praises to the good Lord.

My life back then…hang in balance, just like those children in the children ward, whom I made acquaintance with. As a child, I was forced to see those who slept near my bed die one by one. I lost them… from cardiopulmonary diseases to chronic lymphocytic leukemia…to melanoma… you name it.

I even had to hear the sound of nurses and doctors making effort to resuscitate those who are on the verge of death sometimes, and there’s even once, I saw a girl of 5 years old being ‘put to sleep’ forever because her parents chose to turn off the life support from her instead of holding on to hope and let her suffer further.

And it wasn’t easy, and when I grew up, I dare not make acquaintance with anyone who are fighting off terminal diseases. Because I knew the inevitable, and I don’t want to be the crying little girl who see deaths before she sleep again.

I fear for them and their family. I know it is not right, but I am still afraid…especially when I read their medical reports. In Lisaone’s case…while it made no sense to many readers… her medical reports on her markers… Iressa effects… her detox retreats makes perfect sense to me, because I grew up with friends who had to go through with the things that she did, and they never failed to leave me. 🙁

Afraid as I am to let people who have cancer too close to me, it did not stop me to immortalize the cancer patience bravery and courage to fight against their illness through my writing, and since early of this year… January, I believed… I have been frequenting Lisaone’s blog as a reference for one of my ongoing book for one of my characters (Isabelle Hart; 18 year old with an un-operatable brain tumour).

Lisaone is a remarkable woman with the courage that I have none. She inspired me, and therefore, earlier of this year… I had begun writing a novel about a girl who had cancer…with attitude somewhat like Lisa’s. I had asked for permission from her somewhere in late April via email, but I get no response from her. She was unreachable and un-contactable.

She stopped updating her blog as well then around that time, and so… now… if anyone knows how I can get in touch with her next kin, or the next kin themselves, please contact me at cleffairy@gmail.com, so that I can contact her next kin and pay a small tribute instead of just passing a heartfelt condolence over here in my blog.

And when the book is finally published somewhere around next year, each book that had been sold… some amount of the profit would be donated to their cancer foundation of their choice…. for the good of the rest who are fighting for the same battle like the late Lisaone.

Cleffairy: Many may not know this, but the day someone really had cancer… is the very day they went for radio or chemotherapy. And many succumbs to not cancer itself, but to chemical poisoning and the toxic build up in their body that overwhelms the entire system. So many succumbs to it… that I always wonder… what is more worst? Cancer? Or the therapy that weakens the immune system to kill the bad cells?

ps: Some may say that I am an opportunist… to be writing about the plight of people with terminal disease…but am I? It is wrong to inspire people with the same kind of illness to not give up and have faith? And is it wrong to wanting to immortalize them? And is it wrong to wanting to give back, not to their family, but those who really needs the money for their treatments?

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Product review, writing

Brash

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Brash means:

  • offensively bold; “a brash newcomer disputed the age-old rules for admission to the club”; “a nervy thing to say”

  • Leaf litter of small leaves and little twigs as found under a hedge; impetuous or rash; insensitive or tactless; impudent or shameless

  • brashing – Removal of the lower dead branches, up to about two metres, of trees in a stand.

  • 1. An accumulation of floating ice fragments less than 2 m across, formed by breakage of other ice forms. 2. (Rare.) In England, a colloquial term for a sudden gust of wind or the sudden onset of a storm.

  • Small ice fragments from a floe that is breaking up.

  • brashing – This is a forester’s term meaning to cut off side branches, usually from conifer trees with the intention of reducing fire risk, improving …

  • brashy – Term used to describe soils containing a high proportion of loose broken rock.

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A Penny For Your Thoughts, writing

Go on, go on, leave me breathless..

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Do you know that all authors are  lunatics? What? You don’t know? Well, they are. Believe me. And do you know what’s worst? They’re also schizoid, but of course… nobody would tell that to their face, because they seems to be normal most of the time. They look like normal people, but their head… gosh…is a complete mess!

I’m an author, and you know what that makes me? A lunatic schizoid who is in charge of her own asylum. But… sometimes…this lunatic lost control over her asylum and they go berserk on her. She found little monsters and scary undead dragons stampeding around pretty often while she’s writing, and sometimes, she don’t know how to put them back in order, because they simply won’t listen to her ranting and mad ravings.

Being an author also means that apart from needing to have a rein on your asylum, you would need to have chemistry with your creation too, or things would never work out between you and your characters. 🙁 As of late, I discovered that I somewhat fell out of love with the main male character and the main female character of my story, and the supporting characters outshine my main character. I can’t connect with my main characters. They became lame and boring, and unresponsive. They make me feel like knocking my own head to the wall. Either that, or shake them til they rattle and talk to me again!

The supporting characters on the other hand became more defined, more strong, more enigmatic and more…romantic, and they seems to be developing a universe of their own and I don’t know how that actually happened, but it happened, and it’s driving me insane and I have to talk about it or someone will get hurt!

Oh God, the supporting characters are taking over the storyline! It’s really getting out of hand, and everything is upside down!

*sobs* I like to write about certain characters, because I feel for them deeply and passionately. They seduced me with their charisma, and they make me want to write more about them.

Some of them really could interact with me… sometimes I could have sworn that the character in question is telling me this :

“Ms. Author, let’s go out on a date, you look so irresistibly beautiful today. By the way, you ought to make me look hotter and give me steamier scenes. Make make me a hero instead of the other wimpy guy. Come now, baby, give me the sword… or a gun, or a weapon of your choice. You know you want to do it.” *slaps forehead*

God, they’re not supposed to be able to do that. I am their creator! They should listen to me and do as I say, not make me do what they want me to do. I created them. I should be able to control them not the other way around. But no… the bloody characters tempt me, tease me and leave me breathless til I could not deny them any longer.

Oh, scroo it! My life is so twisted. Fine. I give up. Have your ways with me, Reeves, you win. I’m your bloody slave, and you get to have a whole novel to yourself with a kingdom laid at your feet, and I’ll make Isabelle Hart your sweetheart too. Would you like me to toss in some sports car too while I’m at it?Grrr. Are you satisfied now? Okay, leave me alone already. GRRR.

Cleffairy: Go on, go on, leave me breathless.Tempt me, tease me, til I can’t deny this…

ps: My only consolation to all of this insanity is that God couldn’t stop Adam and Eve from eating the forbidden apple. If God can’t stop Adam and Eve, what makes me think that I can control my creations? I’m just human. I guess it’s forgivable.

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A Penny For Your Thoughts, Time Heals What Love And Reason Cannot, writing

Miracles happen

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I never really did consider myself a blogger. I prefer to be known as an author, a writer and a reporter. Because if being a blogger means that you write an article or two everyday and receiving feedback for it, then I could have been a blogger since 1999, because I started to write faithfully, devotedly and oh so passionately that year.

I wrote for various websites, submitting my fictional stories, and I get feedbacks for that, and the feedbacks that I get for my stories are way more than I get when I… ‘blog’. Comments came in hundreds per day, and I had troubles replying to each and every one of them. Unlike blogging that’s pretty much Malaysianized, my fictions were international. I had friends from all corners of the world.

And I not only get feedback and comments… I earned loads of brownie points too through my fictions. I had fans who admired me for my creativity, my quirks and my hopelessly romantic stories.

I had loads of fans, whom I upgraded their status into my personal friends begging me to continue writing when I decided to officially go on hiatus in May 2002 so that I could concentrate in pursuing my studies. It was not an easy decision… to go on hiatus because writing has always been a part of me, and it was slowly killing me inside that I could not tell stories anymore.

You see, I actually feel as if I’ll go senile if I didn’t write. It must be the Tun Dr. M syndrome. Can’t keep still and can’t stop being sarcastic…. and can’t stop writing. 😀

I kept in touch with most of these fans turned friends during my hiatus, and I am so proud to say that even though I stopped writing, they did not stop loving me for who I am. They became good friends, though I have yet to meet them in real life.

As of late, I discovered that one of the sites that I wrote for back in 1999-2002 was down indefinitely and there is no sign that the database would be recovered. I didn’t know what to feel. There’s a lot of my exclusive masterpiece being stored in that site that I didn’t backup for soft copies.

Do you know what that means? That means…I lost a lot of my masterpiece dating from 1999-2002. And I can tell you, that is a lot. I was really sad, almost inconsolable, even. I didn’t know to whom I should talk to. How many of you out here would understand how I feel anyway? You folks didn’t know me during the time I was an online author. You folks came to know me as Cleffairy, a blogger, not an author with another pseudonym.You folks… did not know my history, because I re-started my career as an author under another pseudonym.

I didn’t know to whom should I tell that I feel like a huge chunk of my life had disappeared to oblivion with that news… all because of those exclusive works.

And then, something miraculous happened. A friend of 10 years… whom have been following my writing since I started to publish my works online on various site appeared in my gtalk, and told me she kept copies of my work and would forward to me for safekeeping when she heard of the site closure.

She kept soft copies and hard copies. My jaw dropped. I never knew that someone liked my writing to be bothered enough to print it out.

I never considered my old writings worth to be published. They’re immature, and is infested with errors. That is the reason why I didn’t bother to uh… keep soft copies of it before the site was down indefinitely. *sigh* I’m nuts, aren’t I? I don’t miss certain things til they’re gone, and thank God for the little miracle that he showed me.


Cleffairy: Moral of the story: Back up, folks, back up… you’ll never know when your bloody PC will goes berserk on you and you loose years worth of data!

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A Penny For Your Thoughts, Down The Memory Lane, Time Heals What Love And Reason Cannot, writing

How can you mend a broken heart?

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I made 3 phone calls today. One to my aunt, one to my mother, and another to my father. 2 of the phone calls made me feel so horrible, causing me to make another phone call. 🙁 Guess whom was the last one I called just to make myself feel better again? *sigh*

Yes, that’s right. The last phone call was to my father. Why? Cuz both my aunt and my mum kinda make me feel bad inside to the point that I feel like I wanna throw up!

I feel like crying. I wanted to cry, but I won’t let myself. I won’t allow myself to be wallowed by self pity and self-disgust…. especially when my bloody other half is being nonchalant about this freaking issue. Maybe I should just take up shooting and shoot something to vent my frustration. 🙁 I feel so trapped and abused. Yes, that’s right. Abused. And also used… and also unappreciated… and the list goes on!

To cut the long story short… I made a phone call to my aunt, who is just 1 year older than me, to congratulate her on being pregnant. Then all the bloody nonsense when I’m going to have a baby and blah blah blah started. I was really happy, truly, that she’s being pregnant and all… but does she have to ask me a lot of personal questions that I don’t feel like answering?

*sigh* I avoided her question like a plague, and and made a promise that I don’t really tend to keep, which is to… uh… visit her when she finally give birth… cuz I kinda hate being around relatives who loves to get on my nerves by asking me personal questions and those showing off and stuff.

You see… I’m not really successful in life, and I wonder if I ever will be. I am not rich, and I don’t exactly reproduce like some sort of a pig either… so yeah… you get the picture, why I don’t like to be around relatives. They simply poke their noses in places that they’re not supposed to.

After successfully ending the conversation with my oblivious Aunt, I called my mother, whom I haven’t talk to for quite some time now. You know… call her just to ask if she’s all right and whatnot. BIG MISTAKE.

Of course she’s all right. She’s always all right. She almost NEVER fall sick. 🙁 Not that I’m saying I wish that she gets sick… I’m just saying that sometimes, I feel really uncomfortable talking to her, because she likes to… uh… gossip, and… like those people in my life… she loves to… compare me with others, even when I’m all grown up. I can’t relate to her, and she doesn’t understand me. She loves to socialize with relatives, much to my chagrin.

She loves going to the weddings, baby showers and funeral( Good Lord… I don’t know if anybody can enjoy a funeral, but obviously, my mother can). Fine. She likes family occasion. That is none of my business. But I don’t feel comfortable at all when she tells me how big their weddings are, and how wonderful their baby showers are…she always says them in a tone that’s hinting me something, and I loathe it so, so much.

Why can’t she just let me off, and leave me alone? I am not interested in joining her and make a court jester out of myself at these family occasions.

I never failed to feel bad each time my mother talked to me about those stuff. Talking… is still tolerable… why can’t she understand that I have no interest in taking part in those things that she’s so fond of? 🙁

I’m not interested to go to relatives’ wedding. I don’t want to go to relatives’ baby showers… and I don’t want to go to funeral too. Why? Because people just won’t mind their own business and ask ME personal question that I considered as invasion of privacy!

It is sooooooooo difficult. No offense… but I kinda hate female relatives and outlaws who are in their 50s. I can’t relate to them, and they’re pretty…what’s the word? OBNOXIOUS.

I felt sooo sooo bad, and knowing that my husband would brush me off when I talk about these stuff…you know… relatives’ wedding, baby showers and whatnot…my husband is never interested in listening to such things and so I called up THE ONLY PERSON who WILL ALWAYS listened to me, regardless of how silly I may sound- MY FATHER.

I called him up, and he was still at work. He told me that he was in front of the PC, finishing up some work, and so I told him that I will call back later when he’s not busy, but thank God he said that it’s all right and refused to let me hang up.

He asked me if I’m all right. And of course…I kinda lied him. I told him I’m fine, just a bit stressed about work and whatnot. The usual. He must be sensing that I’m upset… cuz he asked if I’m feeling well. So I told him… I don’t know if I’m feeling well… I’m feeling feverish… must be the weather and I just call to hear his voice and to ask if he’s doing okay.

But my father knew me very well and bombed me. “Did you happen to call your mother?” he asked.

I broke down at this point. I said yes, and I blahs to him, telling him that my mother had been at it again, asking me to go to places I don’t want to and telling me who and who is getting married, and who and who is having baby showers, and who and who is so pretty and practically glowing… and also about so and so who is just promoted and whatnot.

I told him I don’t want to go back to those family occasions… because I feel that no matter how successful I am in life… people would still judge me on how well-married I am and how many pooping and wailing brats I have~!  And people are more interested in how many times I get laid a week more than what I’ve worked so hard to build! It sickens me to the very core. 🙁

While other people in my life would have probably reprimand me for being so reserved and refused to socialize with gossiping bimbos at this point, my father didn’t accuse me of that. He listened sympathetically and told me that he didn’t fancy family occasion too, and if I don’t want to, I don’t have to go back and face those people who doesn’t mind their own business.

I told him that I missed him. And the only reason why I wanted to go back for the holidays is just because I wanted to see him. 🙁 Even if people around me hurt me badly and made me feel inferior with their words, I still want to see him and have a good time together. I missed talking to him, I missed being understood and I especially missed being taken seriously.

I heard clicks of the keyboard at this point. And after a few seconds… my father told me…that perhaps, he could make some arrangements and come to visit me instead… he didn’t promise me… he said he would try to make arrangements to visit me instead.

And you know what? That alone makes me feel a lot better, even if he can’t manage to come and visit me during the holidays. Those words… those words alone made me feel loved, protected and and cherished. Those words made me feel important too. And… for now, those are enough for me. Even if he can’t manage to come and visit me… I feel better already… with just his words…my father… he made me feel better… by just listening and assuring me that he loves me regardless of how people think of me.

Cleffairy: Breathing is difficult, especially when people are trying their best to suffocate you. And here’s ‘How Can You Mend a Broken Heart’ by Bee Gees.



How Can You Mend A Broken Heart

I can think of younger days when living for my life
Was everything a man could want to do.
I could never see tomorrow, but I was never told about the sorrow.

And how can you mend a broken heart?
How can you stop the rain from falling down?
How can you stop the sun from shining?
What makes the world go round?
How can you mend a this broken man?
How can a loser ever win?
Please help me mend my broken heart and let me live again.

I can still feel the breeze that rustles through the trees
And misty memories do days gone by
We could never see tomorrow, noone said a word about the sorrow.

And how can you mend a broken heart?
How can you stop the rain from falling down?
How can you stop the sun from shining?
What makes the world go round?
How can you mend this broken man?
How can a loser ever win?
Please help me mend my broken heart and let me live again.

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A Penny For Your Thoughts, Cleffy's Pillow Talk, Down The Memory Lane, Time Heals What Love And Reason Cannot, writing

Don’t cry Joni…

15 Comments

Have you ever want something or someone to love you so badly, but the love is unrequited? You gave all of your heart to that person, but your love is unreturned?

You love them, and waited for them with all of the devotion that you have… you wait and wait, and nothing happens, and then, one day… you stopped hoping, though you continued loving.

Time passes by. You stopped wanting anymore. You feel numb, you’re hurting inside and you desperately need to move on, and decided that it’s all right. It doesn’t matter anymore. If the person you love doesn’t return your feelings, you think that it’s time to let someone else… someone else who have been waiting for you to let you into their life for almost as long as you wait for the one you love to return your feelings.

It won’t be the same… to just receive love…but it would have been better that way, won’t it? You can try loving the one who love you, though you have no feelings for that person.

And then…the thing you have been waiting for happened. The person you loved… started to see something in you, and started to return your feelings. But it’s too late now…you fell in love with another, because ‘the other person’ whom was never your first choice is now the love of your love, and means everything to you.

Have you ever felt that way… how funny and ironic love is? Have you… ever felt like Joni…feel that one day, you’ll stop hoping and move on, because you can’t wait forever, and life goes on?

DON’T CRY JONI

(Conway Twitty)

Conway Twitty & Joni Lee – 1975

Margo & Daniel O’Donnell – 2006

Joni was the girl who lived next door

I’ve known her, I guess, ten years or more

Joni wrote me a note one day

And this is what she had to say

(JONI:)

(Jimmy, please say you’ll wait for me)

(I’ll grow up someday you’ll see)

(Saving all my kisses just for you)

(Signed with love forever true)

Slowly I read her note once more

I went over to the house next door

Her teardrops fell like rain that day

When I told Joni what I had to say

Joni, Joni please don’t cry

You’ll forget me by and by

You’re just fifteen, I’m twenty-two

And Joni, I just can’t wait for you

Soon I left our little home town

Got me a job and tried to settle down

But those words kept haunting my memory

The words that Joni wrote to me

(JONI:)

(Jimmy, please say you’ll wait for me)

(I’ll grow up someday you’ll see)

(Saving all my kisses just for you)

(Signed with love forever true)

I packed my clothes and I caught a plane

I had to see Joni, I had to explain

How my heart was filled with her memory

And ask my Joni if she’d marry me

I ran all the way to the house next door

But things weren’t like they were before

My teardrops fell like rain that day

When I heard what Joni had to say

(JONI:)

(Jimmy, Jimmy please don’t cry)

(You’ll forget me by and by)

(It’s been five years since you’ve been gone)

(And Jimmy, I married your best friend John)

Don’t Cry Joni is a very old song, and I used to sing this with my father when I was just a little girl. Thinking back… I wonder if he’s trying to teach me about how love doesn’t always turn out the way we wanted them to, and there’s always surprises when it comes to love?


Cleffairy: Jimmy, Jimmy please don’t cry. You’ll forget me by and by. It’s been five years since you’ve been gone. And Jimmy I married your best friend John.

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A Penny For Your Thoughts, Product review, Time Heals What Love And Reason Cannot, writing

Super service by Eoe online

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Disclaimer: THIS IS NOT A PAID REVIEW

Remember my review on Eoe Online?  The online photo company that takes photo printing orders online and deliver it to your doorstep? Well… I’ve received my 50 4R and 2 8R photos from them, along with two photo albums. 😀

And I was really surprised with their efficient service. And through my correspondence with their staff via email, they are professional and friendly too.

They really did a good job. Eoe Online processed my photos really fast and had it delivered to me via courier service known as Skynet within 1 working day. Amazing. Initially I expected them to take at least 3 days to process my order. It was really a surprise to receive the photos this morning. I highly recommend Eoe Online to those people who are busy and not good at waiting. 😀

Currently they are having this promotion.

RM0.30 per 4R print and RM0.50 per 5R print with FREE free delivery for orders above RM35.00

Quality wise is good too. The photos comes out really clear. Only a few came out blurred, and that’s not even their fault, as the original photos are already blurred.

Take a look at the pictures below. They’re from Eoe Online. 😀 Can you recognize who is the subject of the photos? 😀

Well, that cute little boy is my… ahem… my unofficial Over A Cuppa Tea model. And his mum is my uh…. unofficial photographer.

And below is my cat’s picture. LOL…

Why didn’t I put my own photos here? Well… I am not photogenic and I am not special, as many would have me believe. It’s a waste of people’s time and effort to snap my pictures.

I’m… graphically speaking I’m a challenge, and people are better off elsewhere instead of helping me snap my pictures as my pictures will usually turn out really ugly and not nice. My face would ruin group photos too, I believe… so I’ll just spare you folks from looking at this fairy with the face of a Medusa.


Cleffairy: How many out there wants me out of the picture? I think it’ll make your pictures a lot prettier, considering how ugly and awful I am.

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