INSIDE THE BOOK: IN  A  GLANCE 

0. WHO AM I? >.<
1. FLEETING LIFE IN CITY (“.”)
2. GLOBALISATION@TECH.COM (@.@)
3. $HOP TILL U DROP WITH MONEY (=.=)
4. BEAUTY IS IN É EYE OF É BEHOLDER (*.*)
5. FRIENDS FOREVER (^.^) …NOT (T.T)
6. HAPPY FAMILY WITH PAPA & MAMA (N.N)
7. SOLO DANCE (D-.-B)
8. ADAM & EVE (^.-)
EVE & EVE…
9. BIRDS & BEES (O.O) – R21 (X.X)
10. GOD OR RELIGION? (V.V)
11. DREAM A LITTLE DREAM (~.~)

THE  BEGINNING

DAY 0. WHO AM I? PINKIE (>.<)  

*Heart’s logic *** // :Mind’s daydream ::
So near yet so far.
16 inches apart. A world apart.
Me, myself and I.
So similar yet so distinct.
The mirrored me in the caricature.
Which is the real me?
Who am I?


I am Pinkie.
Pinkie, the girl who likes pink.
Pinkie, the little finger, the petite girl.
Pinkie, the funky and cute girl.

I am all of the above, not. I like royal purple instead of sweet pink. I wear size M and not S. I have more dullness than fun my name might suggest. Yes, Pinkie is my name. Laugh, tease or do whatever. Strip away my name, I am still me. I am different from who people think I am. I am more than who people think I am, but they like to box me up with my name, appearance, education or occupation. Granted, all these tell something about me, but just not the whole story. Come to think of it, people only see what they want to see. And with a few seconds to form the first impression, I guess stereotypes are the best bets to know someone. Think accountant: boring; think marketer: dynamic.

So who am I?

It is not always straightforward with my dust-red hair, pebble-flat nose, denim-blue eyes and clay-yellow skin: a blend of two different races. Yet ironically, I am average like everyone else. With an average height, average family, average personality, and average job, I am simply an average girl at heart. Or is there a benchmark for average in this world? While no two people were meant to be carbon copies, not even twins, society has a way of creating a mould for us to melt into. And in no time, we are all casted into a standardised shape.

I too conformed, but indeed wish to break away and do crazy things. To live like there is no tomorrow, quit my job without a qualm, head off to dangerous places for humanitarian work, backpack around the world on a whim, take part in national singing competitions, participate in activist protests, rally for iconoclastic ideals, organise huge charity efforts and… go on blind dates.

The young, naïve and imprudent part of me believes that I can attempt the impossible: to change and conquer the world. The down-to-earth part of me, however, subdues these radical thoughts and chucks them in the attic. Play safe and settle for the simple pleasures in life. Get a degree. Work in a good job till retirement. Live out dull stories instead of colourful ones to tell future generations.

Even if I put this idealism aside and choose to live an average life, I would still have to make mind-boggling choices: the career to build, the right guy to marry, the number of children to have and the dreams to pursue or sacrifice. All these swirl me into giddiness. Falling and losing my footing in this world is all too easy if I do not find my balance quick. The metamorphosis from a pupa to a shimmering butterfly is beautiful. Nevertheless, the glittery makeup is unable to conceal the fact that maturing is a painful shedding process. Bugging thought: Will there be people to applaud and celebrate with me when I finally fly one day?

I do not know whether I am a girl dreaming of being a butterfly, or whether I am a butterfly, dreaming I am a girl. I see myself more as a body of dust drifting through an empty universe – a surreal dream. As I float along, I see people living in their own bubbles, inflating and polishing them through impression management, career coaches, dating coaches or motivational talks. Then I notice a few bubbles in the public arena reflecting brighter and more lustrous colours than most. Or perhaps they are stunning merely because I see them from afar.

With careful observation, all these small bubbles are trapped inside larger ones – the financial bubble, housing bubble, social club bubble, networking bubble – ad nauseam. These bubbles make us think we have it all – money, assets, life purpose and intimate relationships. Life itself is a bubble; and a gentle tap can burst it into nothingness.

Are we living a fulfilled life? Do we know our purpose in life? Do we have what we appear to have? Are we as connected as we seem? Are we the real deal presented to others? Have we forgotten who we truly are in these man-made bubbles? It will not be long before these bubbles are burst by others or pressures in life. After their dance in the air, this abrupt realisation of the emptiness within can shock some into depression and suicide.

I have my own bubble in this bubbly world.

People captivated by my picture-perfect bubble illusion are not eager to dig deeper and expose its deception. They allow themselves to be hypnotised and enchanted even if they know that the magician’s trick of illusion is rehearsed. Perhaps, believing in an attainable man-made utopia gives them a hope to pray and work hard all their lives to achieve it. I, the magician, should know better than be duped. However, my real self and desires are in the danger of being fossilised and forgotten. The debris of time is burying them inch by inch in an inconspicuous way.

I graduated from school in the hope of translating dreams into realities. However, I begin to question what truly mattered in life when aspirations and passions fade with time. I scratch my head, tear my hair out, dig into my heart and scream my lungs out trying to make sense of this world and its happenings.

Good and bad mentors weave in and out of my life as I look for a step-by-step life survival guide. Many people who have no idea how to lead their lives come to tell me how I should live mine. Wisdom so needed to discern what to take in and what not to. Advice sometimes useful and sometimes not; at times true concerns, at other times poisonous doubts disguised to kill the soul. Regardless of it all, I can still learn life through the hard way and go through the school of knocks when I slip and fall; although I would have rather learned from other people’s mistakes and failures instead.

With more answers I have to life, life unravels more questions. Life is a journey to discover and learn through successes and failures; a marathon and not a sprint. It is thus best to have pit stops along the way to take a break, dance with happy feet and take time off to reflect. Slowing down the pace of life can just be the key to activate the dream machine within. Moreover, pondering over the labyrinth of relationships and life’s different aspects is akin to a body check-up or vehicle safety inspection for health and safety. A check to make sure I am still geared up for my life journey instead of heading towards a breakdown.

Some friends cannot fathom how I find stability in life’s uncertainties and turbulence. My secret weapons: my relationship with God through prayers and wisdom through Bible reading. Both have guided and sustained me through life’s peaks and valleys. By grace, I draw out my sword and position myself to fight the challenges in life.

Through all these, I record private daily bits and pieces in my diary as if someone will read them. Perhaps deep in me, I need someone, anyone, to read them and walk with me, fly with me, laugh with me, cry with me, scold with me, smile with me, battle with me, and think with me.

Read… and love me.

Love,
Pinkie (>.<)