Kitten's Claws @lizziexazz - Tumblr Blog

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The reason we didn’t “vibe” was because my mother & brother also died (2010, 2018 respectively) and I found out your story not long before we met. When we did, I felt so much sadness, for the both of us, and that ended up with us being guarded to the point of distance. But you looked so beautiful, I wanted to hold you, to kiss you, to have sex with you and just forget the world for a while and find comfort in each other. I still think of you & hope you’re well xxx

....who the hell is this even? I just retrieved my tumblr and have no idea who this Anonymous person is or what you're responding to?

inessukamakan

After numerous failed attempts of uploading this on IGTV, Facebook, and YouTube the whole day because of copyright issues (really ironic since it’s my own mother’s song), I’m finally trying to upload this here. I’m really hoping this works. If you’re successfully here from the link I posted and can finally watch this, thank you so much for going through all the effort to accept and search for what I’m trying to share. 🙏🏼🙇🏻‍♀️💚

Happy Birthday, Ben. 🤍 | Benjy by Azean Irdawaty (Cover)

Mama wrote this song when Ben was born.

So I found it fitting to sing it as his birthday tribute. Our first one without him; his first one back with her. ❤️

I was so nervous to sing this and put it out for public. I didn’t want to ruin Mama’s most personal song, and I was afraid I wouldn’t do it justice. My singing is nowhere near Mama’s but in the end, I’m doing this as part of my healing process. ❤️‍🩹

Mama loves all her children, and Ben loves everyone in the family too, but the two of them had a special inseparable bond.

“Bak bahtera tiada haluan,

Ku telah hanyut kekosongan,

Kau menjelma bawa bahagia,

Hidupku kini penuh makna.”

Sounds like something any new mother would say to their baby but we know, and God knows, she meant a lot more when she wrote that.

May you find peace there now with Mama, Ben. One thing remains that

“Meskipun dunia memandangmu hina,

Bagiku, engkaulah raja yang bertakhta.”

That line always gets to me, ever since we were small. And despite hearing it on repeat almost every day this past two months, it still didn’t fail to tear me up again this time when I sang it for you. And I mean every word singing it, Ben.

“Tak pernah kusesalkan kehadiranmu.”

I pray you know how thankful I am, and Kakak is, for everything you’ve done for us when you could. And despite our fights, our love for you never faded. You are still our one and only brother; my one and only Ben.

Thank you for immortalising both yourself and Ben with this song, Ma. My love and understanding for both of you have only deepened the more I listen to this song.

Your “kasih hati” has returned now, Ma.

Happy birthday, Ben. ❤️

“Oh Tuhan, berilah [mereka] restumu.” 🤲🏼

Al-Fatihah

Ben, Khaeryll Benjamin Ibrahim

17th September 1978 - 11th July 2021

Mama, Azean Irdawaty Yusoef

27th February 1950 - 17th December 2013

To the Ex-Prisoner, Mr Haikal.

I met you today, about 515pm, outside the standard chartered building on Jalan Sultan Ismail. As I passed you, you stood in my line of sight and said “Excuse me, Miss.” Normally I would have my headphones on, but my phone battery was low, so I couldn’t pretend to ignore you like I would usually do to those people asking you to sign things or offering you credit cards. You weren’t wearing corporate t-shirts or holding any clipboards for sign ups, so I assumed you were asking for directions. “Yes?” I said. You seemed surprised that anyone stopped for you. “I’m sorry Miss…I’m sorry”, you began. Here it comes, I brace myself for the scam spiel. “I just came out of prison…yesterday,” you began, in English. I looked at what you were wearing: a faded collared and buttoned shirt, slacks folded at the ankle, a small backpack and red sneakers.

“I am trying to get back to my kampung.” There it is. “I’m sorry, I don’t have any cash on me right now,” I said, quite honestly. You nodded with a defeated smile, and let me go on my way. My first thought was: I ain’t falling for that. Then with each subsequent step, my heart tugged.

Yes, he may be lying. He may want the money for drugs, or to scam people for more money. But what if, in the tiniest of possibilities, he was telling the truth? What would you lose, if you say, gave him enough money for a bus ticket home? Barely fifty bucks. But that could mean a chance for him to return home.

It made me think of my brother. Ben is in a Medan prison for another decade, and there is nothing I can do about it. I can’t right his past wrongs to help him escape his current consequences. And the RM500 I give him monthly barely covers to help buy his asthma medications, treatment and food. Before that, when he was in and out of prison, there were times he had to sleep in someone’s car for days because he had no money to get a room to board. He would be sick, hungry, and filthy. How I wish I were able to meet a stranger who could have helped change my brother’s fate, but alas, that is impossible. What is possible, is that I may be able to help this man. So as I happened to walk past another bank, it felt like a sign. Or at least I read it as one. I took out a RM50; I didn’t want to give more than the cost of a bus ticket, because if you were using it for drugs instead, I wouldn’t want you to be able to afford enough to overdose.

I walked back to you. You seemed confused at me heading back to your direction.

“What’s your name?” I asked. “Haikal”, you said. “Haikal. I’m Elza. Why were you in prison?” “I got into a fight with someone who didn’t pay me back his debt” you explained - I assumed that the fight became violent. “How long were you in prison for?” I asked, trying to gauge if you were lying. “1 year and 6 months” you said. “Which prison?” ”Kajang.” “Kampung mana?” “Sungai Petani.”

“Look. I don’t know if you are telling me the truth, and to be honest, I don’t care. I’m not here to judge you or call you a liar. But if you are telling me the truth, and you have family back in Sungai Petani, then this is what I want you to do. I don’t have much, and I really didn’t have cash on me earlier, I went to the ATM to get this. It’s for your bus ticket. And here’s why I’m helping you. Because my brother is a prisoner.” You didn’t see that coming. “He is in a Medan prison for the next 10 years for smuggling drugs. And there’s nothing I can do to help. He’s fighting to stay alive and he may very well even die in prison. And he is helpless. Take this money, don’t spend it on drugs, not any other bullshit - Go home. If you have family and they’re angry with you, apologize, make amends, make it right. It’s never too late to sort your life out. But first, GO HOME.” “Miss, I think I know your brother. He’s that actor, right?” “Yes. Benjy. All the best, Haikal,” I said as I left. I wasn’t embarrassed that I cried in front of a total stranger. I hope some part of you heard me, and I hope if you were telling the truth, that this is the beginning of your redemption. If I was scammed, I don’t feel it was a loss at all. I don’t want to live in a world where we’re too cynical or fearful to be kind. Because then, it means humanity has lost. Mr Haikal, I wrote this in English, as you spoke to me first in English, and I am sharing this online in the hopes that somehow, someday, you would come across this post. And if you do, I hope that it means you got your life in order. Sincerely, the stranger who passed you.

Panic in Paradise

I’ve just returned from a short weekend holiday in Perth with my group of girlfriends. We had such a great time hosted by our friends there who were the best hostesses you could ever find. Even though it was a short trip, we had a lot of fun and made memories we’d treasure forever - and in my case, one particular memory that I’d carry with me until the day I die: The memory of my best friends saving my life.

We went out one afternoon for a swim at Meelup Beach in the Margaret River region, about a 3 hour drive from Perth. The water was shallow and cold, but calm with hardly any waves. We had a relaxing swim and then thought it would be nice to kayak to a nearby rock close to the shore where we were told it was a good spot to snorkel. I’d never done either before and wanted a taste of Wild ‘Straya. After all, the rock was just RIGHT. THERE. It’d be a couple of minutes rowing at the most. Except just a few minutes in of rowing, the wind started to blow. Out of nowhere, clouds were coming in fast, and creating waves making the water choppy. No matter how hard we rowed, we kept getting pushed farther out to sea. My girl friend who was kayaking with me, kept trying to steer us straight, while another friend on her paddle board was guiding us back to shore. We rowed backwards, and it worked momentarily, until the wind picked up again and we were rowing in circles. As I brought my phone in a ziplock bag (thinking it would have made a great video to capture my first time kayaking), I tried to dial for help, but the sun was too bright that I couldn’t see my screen to unlock it, and had to unzip to try - which probably caused some water to get in the bag. I couldn’t place a call. At this point, one guy from the kayak service came paddling to help us. “Are you guys alright?” “NOPE!” I shouted. “Didn’t think so.” He strapped the ‘leggy’ to his paddle and tried to row back, but it was very difficult. “Alright, Imma leave you guys here and swim back for help” Our hearts sank a bit because we were worried about being left behind. But I was not panicking - yet. I kept rowing back even though my friend told me to conserve my energy. I didn’t realize what she meant was to prepare myself in case we had to swim back. And I’m not a great swimmer. All I could think of was coming home to my family. I couldn’t rest, I NEEDED to keep going. During this time, another friend came out with the paddle board and tried to tow us back, but to no avail. Then the kayak guy’s colleague who looks exactly like George Michael came out with another kayak. “NO!” I said, “We need something with an engine!”

I think at this point he came to get our friend on the paddle board and Jack the first kayak guy came out to row with us - I can’t even remember how or when they swapped, in the midst of all that chaos.

But we still couldn’t row back to shore. I initially thought I wasn’t rowing hard enough, but when Jack went “FUCK!!” as the wind kept blowing us out, I knew it wasn’t my non-existent upper body strength that was at fault. Still, I calmly told him “Have faith, bro. Have faith.” In retrospect, he must have thought I was insane. We saw a boat nearby. “HELPPPPPP!!!” we screamed, lifting our oars in the air. The boat started to move toward us, but then went the other way. “Maybe they thought we were just waving” Jack said.

The shore seemed like a distant line in the horizon. Then we saw another boat coming toward us, while a helicopter flew above. About 30 seconds before the boat reached us - our kayak capsized. That’s when the panic started. I told myself it’s ok, you have a lifejacket on, trying to calm myself as best as possible. I resurfaced after a few seconds underwater. “Hold on to the paddle board!” my friend told me, just in time when the boat arrived and threw a rope. “Grab on!” they said, just like in the movies. “This must be how that feels like,” I remember thinking. They pulled me up onto the boat first, then my friend and Jack. In a mix of tears and laughter, I hugged my friend. “I love you so so much” I said. The helicopter saw us being rescued and flew off. I didn’t realize then the boat was not in fact a rescue boat, but just a bunch of guys sailing who happened to have been passing by. When we reached the shore, our other girlfriends were waiting, and we found out that one of them was who called the cops and the helicopter. Thankfully, we didn’t need their service. As we settled on land, another helicopter with a siren flew over. “Is that for us too?” I asked. “Nope” someone replied. “That’s probably a shark sighting.” I was shaking all over. From the cold, from exhaustion but mostly from the reality sinking in of just how bad things could have gone - That boat could have never passed by. A shark could have very well been where we capsized. My phone could have dropped in the ocean. The kayak could have hit me on the head and knocked me out. I could have had a full blown panic attack and not be able to swim back. I can’t imagine the amount of level-headedness my friend had to have while she was stuck out there with me. The other friends who had never paddled so hard in their lives trying to get to us, placing their own lives at risk. Our friends on the shore who must have felt so helpless watching us at sea. It wasn’t until later at night did the sheer gravity of the situation hit me. We could’ve died. I COULD HAVE DIED. And if it wasn’t for every single one of them coming together to rescue us, I may not even be writing this anecdote right now. We were lucky to say the least. Maybe I had a Guardian Angel watching over me - most probably Mama’s spirit screaming “DIDN’T I TELL YOU NOT TO GET IN THE WATER!!”. I’m still dealing with the trauma. I look back and we laugh at escaping the whole thing unscathed, but in truth, we very narrowly avoided a disaster. It was a freak accident, as even Justin said this had never happened before on their calm and quiet beach. There is no amount of gratitude that I could express enough to my girls, to Justin and Jack, to the boat dudes for saving my life. I definitely reevaluated my suicidal thoughts fighting for my life then - and after this, I would never want to take their help, risking their lives for me, for granted. Thank you to all of my heroes that day. Because of you, I am alive.

RIP Ong bin Ngiau (11.2.01 - 22.8.18) On this Hari Raya Qurban, we had to make a huge sacrifice and let go of our precious 17 year old angel. He has been the most loyal and loving cat we've ever had, and we've had many cats come and go in our family, but none of them comes close to Ong. He was our baby brother. Mama named him Ong, because she felt he'd bring good luck. And he did bring us happiness, laughter, cuddles and love. For 17 years - I'd say we got pretty darn lucky. Many of our guests would've met him; skittish with strangers yet manja with his family. His first and last breaths were literally in my hands, and by coincidence, in the same vet. I've never had to put down a pet before, and although we knew this was the right decision, it was far from easy. But now he's no longer in pain, and he's off to keep Mama company. Rest in peace, sweet angel. Until we meet again.

When Our Heroes Become Helpless

In the recent years, we’ve lost many idols to suicide. On Wikipedia, there is a list of public figures who had committed suicide, complete with methods and rationalised with reasons. Countless tragedies reduced to a statistic.

After each death, we often say how depression doesn’t have a face, it doesn’t have a bias in choosing its victims.

Robin Williams devoted his life to making us laugh. Chester Bennington bravely bared his soul in his music; birthing anthems of our youth. Avicii created music that allowed us to dance our pain away. Kate Spade painted our world in bright, bold colours to wash out our grey days. And Anthony. Anthony Bourdain took us around the world; inviting us to live vicariously through him.

What happens to us when our heroes become helpless?

They seem to have had everything life could offer- the best jobs, devoted fans, fame and fortune. While the rest of us are struggling in our pursuit of happiness, they seem to have found the answers.

Yet they decide that none of that brought them peace, and perhaps it is only in death that one can truly be free.

Some argue that suicide is an act of cowardice. Of course, the only people making this argument have never taken their own lives, so how can we assume that the final moments of one’s life before ending it was filled with fear?

I think suicide not only takes courage - to stare death in the face and say “I’m going out on my own terms”- but it’s also so calculated, so methodical, carried out after so many fantasies where we imagine every possible way to end it all, that a coward could never see it through. A coward would give up. If it is in our nature to fear the unknown, then death would be the most frightful thing of all.

Some also suggest that by killing yourself, you’ve given up on life. Give up, as if these people volunteered themselves to defeat. I think suicidal people battle their demons every day, fighting for a reason to live, to break through the bleakness of life when you realise how small and insignificant you are in the grand scheme of things. I think those who turn to suicide didn’t give up, but instead have nothing left to give.

It is a painful reminder to us when we learn that our heroes are not the invincible icons we perceive them to be. That they are as human and as fragile as we are. That suffering and jadedness can happen even to the most fortunate among us.

When news breaks out that a celebrity had committed suicide, we are launched into this discourse of mental health, of seeking help. To reach out to our friends, to be better support systems to those who need it. I often reflect: Am I a good friend? Have I missed certain signs? How can I do better, I MUST be better.

Yet while I think it is our duty to make this life as rich and joyful as possible for our loved ones, I think it is also important to understand that it should be our basic human right to take ownership of our own lives.

Many, especially those who are religious, would say this is Pride. Muslims and I think Christians too, believe that those who commit suicide would never get into Heaven, that it is the biggest sin God would never forgive.

Now, I have never been a religious person. I believe in humanity, in being a good person and to give back to this Earth for all the wealth we have received from it. So I don’t invest my time on this planet as a deposit for the afterlife. I believe this is the only life we have and must make the most of it.

But in believing that, I also feel that no one else gets to define how to live our lives.

That if we reach a point where we feel "I have lived the best life I can, or I’ve had my fill of despair, and I am ready to go now”, that it is cruel to further imprison us on this planet simply because our jailers can’t bear the heartbreak they would inevitably inherit from us. I think the pain they would feel is but a drop of the daily poison we imbibe called depression.

I think one of the reasons we feel anger and betrayal at those who leave us by suicide is because we were exempted from the final chapter of their lives. We had no say in the matter, we were ‘robbed’ of the chance to make any amends or say all we needed to say. It is selfish, I believe, to be angry at those who kill themselves, because even in their death, we are still only thinking of our own pain. As a person who struggles with suicidal thoughts (and previous attempts), I believe many others who feel suicidal place everyone else’s happiness before their own; that to finally end their lives meant that for once, they want to put their own needs first. Days when all you saw was a brave, strong person, we are looking at all of you as those who we just couldn’t bring ourselves to hurt, even if it meant we had to endure the pain on our own. We go on living for your benefit. So, do not say that suicide is selfish when it is the living who had selfishly forced them to deny the peace they were pursuing.

That being said, I do wish that before our heroes killed themselves, that they know just how much they meant to this world. They touched our lives, even changed it. I hope they know how sorry we are if the pedestal that we had them bound to, made their lives that much lonelier and tragic.

And I hope they know that even though at times like these, when their deaths make us doubt that there could be hope for the rest of us, I wish they knew that in their brief lives, they made ours worth living.

Dear Malaysians, Jangan Melatah.

Ever since we won back Malaysia, certain issues have come up that seem to be alarming to certain people:

Article on Rafizi saying Mahathir bulldozed through the cabinet selection of the 3 ministers without consulting PKR.

Party jumping/ abandoning of BN.

‘Crackdown’ on BN supporters.

Some Malaysians reactions to these issues have been disappointing, to say the least. Many netizens have spoken about this, and I too would like to chime in, for whatever it’s worth.

Rafizi has every right to speak on his concerns. (The reporting of it could’ve been less sensational, but that’s another story). He has played a crucial role in our revolution, and as Vice President of PKR, he represents the concerns of his party, and it is his duty to voice them. This is what we fought for, isn’t it? The freedom to question our elected members, to ensure that they are taken to task? What is the point of a democracy when we will not allow discourse and debate? I say it is good that all problems are made transparent now, so we can all solve it together in the best way possible. Fear of retribution must die with Najib’s time.

I love Tun, always have, even with all his flaws and past mistakes - which he must absolutely atone for. But as brilliant as he is, he is a servant to the democracy, and in a democracy, you do not make the sole decision. What you think is best must be agreed upon by others that it is indeed the best. So we must take all opinions into account. By making his concerns known, Rafizi is trying to ensure that the rest of the cabinet selection must have its due process. He’s not picking a fight with Tun, he’s just doing his job, and we must thank him for that.

That being said, we cannot immediately despair and say “Tun is back at it again with the BN shit”. There is a clear difference to his rushing of things and the BN modus operandi. Tun is trying to expedite the cabinet process so we can be up and running to fix this country. He doesn’t have much time. Even when there were talks that it may take 2 weeks for full cabinet announcement, people said that’s too long a wait. You think it’s easy to run a country? There will be teething issues, so don’t be so impatient, and don’t exaggerate any problems. Remember when Tun just sat quietly for hours before the swearing in? Be THAT level of patient. 2. Through party jumping, we won back Sabah. This is a tricky matter to feel about. On the one hand, I’m happy that Sabah will get the change they DID vote for, but I do not support party jumping. Whether it was Kitingan jumping to BN, or the BN people jumping to Warisan, IT DOESN’T MATTER - it must be made illegal. From what I understand, in a hung assembly, the King of the state makes the decision, informed, I assume, by the sentiments of the assembly and by the rakyat. Therefore, party jumping is absolutely unnecessary to form the government. The only reason I can see that they are party jumping is because they want a slice of the winning pie too. It shouldn’t work like that. YOU chose a party to be a part of, and you carry the people’s vote when you’re elected. If the people voted for the opposition then you switch over to BN, you are betraying their vote. You are manipulating election results. There must be a law whereby elected candidates are not allowed to party jump within their term of service. If you choose to switch, it must be in the next term. As a candidate, you have all the knowledge available to you to make an informed decision of which party to be a part of. If you chose poorly, that’s ON YOU. Live with that choice, it’s what you deserve.

I wish instead that Musa and Kitingan were investigated for bribery (because I doubt there’d be much surprise there, why else would you jump to the losing side?) and then arrest them, and we have the King choose. That’s what Sabah deserved. A fair selection. 3. All these nonsense about boycotting Air Asia, TV3, Wak Doyok even, because they supported BN needs to stop. Yes, we too have our periuk nasi to jaga yet we didn’t succumb to supporting BN, but that’s because honestly, we got lucky. Did you not read Azrene’s post? If Rosmah could unleash all kinds of evil to her own daughter, her own flesh and blood, can you imagine what some of these supporters were threatened with? Air Asia promised to bring voters home; you don’t think Tony might have been threatened that if he didn’t publicly support BN, that something could happen to his planes? (We still don’t know what happened to MH370, right?) To his company? All his staff he has to protect?

Maybe some of them did believe in BN. Hell, I’ve got some relatives who still do, who voted for them. It genuinely surprised me because I thought “How can you be so blind and ignorant?” But then I realised, maybe they were just hopeful that BN (aside from the top officials) still had their best interest at heart, and is able to change, to evolve. We saw young candidates this year on both teams. Maybe they thought; maybe we can still fix this.

Is it fair then, that we of all people, should fault them for their HOPE?

This is a time for unity, people. But that doesn’t mean uniformity- that doesn’t mean that everyone whose opinion differs from yours is wrong, or must be silenced.

Everyone has a right to their opinion, and everyone must have the freedom to voice them. We must do away with name-calling, boycotting, and mob mentality. To be a mature rakyat, we must engage in intelligent discussions. We are the grassroots’ Think Tank, we are the Voice. We must do better to bridge the divide. We must be patient, and willing, to grow together. Only then, can we birth a new Malaysia.

Indera Putera bids thee farewell! @makyongtitissakti (at The Kuala Lumpur Performing Arts Centre (klpac))

My return to acting and the stage in my reprised role as Indera Putera in Mak Yong #TitisSakti (Demetrius of William Shakespeare's Midsummer Night's Dream). This time, 9 years on, I'm playing this role with a twist, delivering the original English lines within a Kelantanese play. Come watch, if culture and art is your cuppa tea. Or if you're a friend 😘 (at The Kuala Lumpur Performing Arts Centre (klpac))

#titissakti

Breaking My Silence on Ben.

Previously, I refrained from making a statement. But today I feel compelled to say something. Ben, for all his flaws and mistakes, is my blood. He was the brother that cared for me and my sister when my parents were out working. From very young he had to be the man of the house and gave up his childhood playtime with friends so that he could look after us. Ben, for all his shortcomings and bad decisions, is my brother. He was the one to protect me when I needed it, he was his sisters’ shield. I felt a little braver, knowing he was my brother. Ben, for all his missteps and wrongdoings, is my family. And no matter how many years, not fourteen not Eleven, Will ever break our bond as siblings everlasting. I do not define Ben by his mistakes. I love him as my brother. I forgive him as my family. He has a long way to go to make amends, But I, as his sister, will be there till the end.

kit-harington

lizziexazz

Drogon be like “Ey yo, cuz! Ma, it’s cousin Jon!” #ThronesYall #DemThrones

xxxilovelawsonxxx

Khal Drogo still protecting his Khaleesi. – Credit to Owner –

The Big 3-O(s) : Observe, Omit, Overcome.

As I write this, most of you know that my little prince, Lucky, is still missing. But even though he is gone (alive or dead), my cat, my dogs and the Universe has taught me a very valuable lesson on the eve of my birthday. Today is my birthday, one I have been freaking out over as I turn 30. As a woman, it is known that this is the age where society demands you to show your achievements in life, or else you’re defined as a failure. This is the time where your body and age will start catching up to you. While men in society’s eyes age like fine wine, women are perceived to age more like milk; men’s value gets higher as they grow older, women’s value depreciates with age. Sure, one can say, who cares about what people think, we don’t owe them a thing. Yet, it is through society’s expectations that we measure ourselves, whether we choose to or not. We are not islands. So I look in the mirror, and ask myself : What is your worth? What is your value? Most days I do see a failure staring back at me. At 30, I am not married, I am without children, and I still don’t own nor am I able to afford renting my own place. My bank statement is thoroughly disappointing, and I have very little belongings I can call mine. But on some days, good days, I see myself through my loved ones’ eyes. I see a girl who loves with her whole heart. I see a woman who will not let her petite size limit her confidence. I see a person who has the courage to speak her truth. The reflection I see changes with my state of mind. And it is my loved ones who keep my mind sane. So at 30, I ask myself what are my achievements. What will be my legacy? Firstly, I have decided years ago that I will not have children. Many reasons for this, but primarily (as my late mother’s doctors had warned me of the high risks of cancer I face just as she did) I do not want to pass on any cancer genes to another generation. So it is safe to say that my biology will not be my legacy. Due to this, I am content with not being married. Sure, almost every girl fantasise about their dream wedding. But I believe true love is not bound by a contract, rather it is bound by trust and compassion for one another. For this, I feel I have already found happiness. And I hope to always have the gift of being able to love this man. Yet, even though I am not married, I am not without my own family. Some may say I am trivialising parenthood, but I am a proud mother to my furkids. Everything I work for, is for them. To put a roof over their heads, to give them the best life they deserve. Because as I mentioned in the beginning, my animals are the ones who taught me how to live. The big three “O”s.

Observe. Omit. Overcome.

Observe: Learn from the success of others, as well as my own mistakes. There is so much knowledge in the world we have yet to learn. My furkids are always curious, always excited to learn some new trick, eager to know more. At the same time, sitting back and watching the world teaches you to have compassion. That the world and all of its problems are bigger than you. It reminds me of how small and insignificant my troubles are, and that life is fleeting - thus we must make the most of it. We must love with all our hearts, we must do good, and leave this world a better place than when we received it.

Omit: There is no room for hate in my furkids’ hearts. They bear no vengeance, no regret, no anger. These are only emotions that we as human beings feel. Yet these emotions are what poisons us. Whenever I get angry and scold my dogs for doing something wrong, I’ll realise when I’ve calmed down that they didn’t intend to anger me. I’ll then call them over to apologise, and (especially my dog, Almond) will rush over to hug me, almost to say “It’s okay Mommy, we’re alright, see? We’re good.” So, I’ve learned from them that I need to rid my soul of toxic emotions and thoughts. There is only room for love. Overcome: The most valuable lesson of all that they have taught me is that we are flawed creatures, and this is okay. When I play fetch with them, sometimes they would stumble as they run after the ball, but all they would do is roll over and get back up on their feet to run back to me. They feel no shame over the fact that they fell. They don’t think of themselves as failures. They stay focused on their goal and bring it home. Life is too short to live in regret.

So what will my legacy be? My love. When I leave this world, I hope to be remembered as someone who touched the lives and returned the kindness of those who loved her. I hope to leave behind the lesson that my animals had passed on to me - to live carefree, to fill each moment with gratitude and compassion. Lucky, in his absence, has taught me that we do not own each other. He did not belong to me, he belongs to the Universe. If he comes back, that is a gift. And if he does not, he was a gift that I am blessed to have had, however brief. And I, in turn, hope I had given him a good life. I read once that it takes us a lifetime to learn to be good, but dogs know how to do this already, so that’s why their lives are short. Maybe there’s some truth in that. Life is short. So love, and be good. Because no matter how much you age, goodness never gets old. For my birthday, I have only two wishes: I wish Lucky would come home, but if he cannot, that wherever he is, he is at peace. And I wish that all my family and friends will live fulfilling and happy lives. I wish nothing for myself. Because I already have it all, thanks to each and every one of you. XOXO, Birthday Girl.

Even though Lucky still has not returned and my heart is broken, my sister, wise beyond her years, reminded me how absolutely blessed I am to have all of you love and care about me so much. Today was an especially trying day. I have been freaking out about turning 30, and losing Lucky on the eve of my birthday has ripped me apart, but all of you came to my aid and shared my status, as well as your stories of encouragement and well wishes. You give me hope. Thank you for not treating me like some crazy cat lady, and thank you for supporting and understanding. I love each and every one of you. I will always be here for you as you have been for me. Xoxo

Lucky was last seen yesterday when I took my dogs out for a walk. As usual, he would walk with us until the end of our street, where he would wait under parked cars for us to come back from the field, and usually he would walk home with us. He didn’t yesterday. I assumed he was roaming. He hasn’t come back since, and that’s very unusual. He’s not the kind to runaway, and he must have his meals on time. He is very attached to me, more so than my dogs. I believe something has happened to him. Please help me find my boy. (at Bandar Utama)

Why Watson’s “Blackface” Raya Ad Did Not Surprise Me.

So ICYMI, Watson’s released #LagendaCun, their annual festive spot for Raya 2017. Let me try to break down everything that was wrong with that ad, and why although it disgusted me, it did not surprise me in the least.

I come from a background of performing arts, and am currently in advertising. So, films and commercials - the two main influences that dictate ‘beauty standards’ we women are forced to adhere to. Therefore, I will address the atrocities of this ad both from a creative/filmmaking perspective, and from a marketing perspective.

For those who had missed out on Watson’s ‘alternative-apology’, they tried to explain that the inspiration to this concept was a classic film called Dayang Senandong, which features a dark skinned princess whose curse was then lifted when she gave birth to the King’s son.

Ok, so let’s talk about THAT for starters, shall we? HOW is this an inspiring story? Women with dark skin are deemed ugly and cursed, and only when she serves merely a reproductive purpose is she worthy to be “uncursed”? This was a terrible idea back then, and even more so today. Except we can claim ignorance back in the 1950s, we cannot claim it NOW, when people have very vocally spoken against discrimination over their skin color (or any other physical attributes, such as our weight, our race, our hair, our style, etc.)

So how come not one person- from the creative team that conceptualized this commercial, to the clients themselves who are the brand owners, to the production company that filmed this, to the actors that agreed to this gig- not say anything? (Did y’all not learn anything from Kendal Jenner’s tone-deaf Pepsi ad?)

Easy – no one said anything because shaming people, especially women, for their skin, their bodies, their everything, is normalized in Malaysian culture. Somehow, we think it is completely our business to comment and discriminate people on how they look.

My sister was always compared to me, because I am lighter-skinned. “Oh, kakak dia putih ye, adik dia hitam.” Apa, kau ingat ni Bawang Putih Bawang Merah? It hurt my sister, and it angered me. I always loved her beautiful, olive tan, but for a long time, her own skin made her feel ugly because of what people said. And the worst part was it was usually said by our relatives or friends of our parents. People you KNOW. People who should be there to uplift you, not bring you down.

A cousin of mine married an Indian man. She now has three beautiful children who are blessed to have a mix of cultures in their upbringing. But when my cousin was going to get married to her now husband, many commented “Kenapa kahwin India, nanti anak gelap”.

First of all, honey have you heard of Black Beauty? (No, not the horse.) And black or brown skin is no less beautiful than light skin. It’s MELANIN. We all have it. Stop forcing down your own Hitler-esque prejudice down people’s throats. Second of all, you completely missed the point of her choosing to get married to someone for who they are, and not the color of their skin. Here was an important eye-opening lesson that you could’ve learnt from. But your 3 brain cells just couldn’t, huh?

Malays also have this nonchalant way of fat-shaming. In fact, the Watson ad also fat-shames. My weight tends to yo-yo. I’m still finding it a challenge to always feel good about my body, 24/7. Somedays I will feel hideous. And it certainly doesn’t help when these Melayus go “Oh, sihat badan? Gemuk nampak” or “Kurusnya, bila nak gemuk?”

Dude, I give myself enough insecurity about my own body that you don’t need to add on to it, thanks very much. Also, I’m healthy. My weight is not giving my body any problems so don’t even try to disguise it as if you were concerned for my well-being. Nah, dude, you’s just bein’ a dick.

Back to the Watson’s ad. The whole premise is of this royal who heard a beautiful singing voice in his dreams and asks his right-hand man to call all the beautiful women for him to determine who’s the lucky nightingale who will be his wife.

Urgh, even though the story is set in zaman dulu-dulu, the team that wrote it are people of TODAY. Why do you feel the only purpose for women is to be beautiful and pop out your children? Who gave you the right to define what is beautiful? And why can’t we be valued and celebrated for our worth, our work, and not our appearances? Also what on EARTH does this have to do with Raya, kau cakap ngan aku sekarang?

The commercial is also FOURTEEN minutes long. Whyyyy? Even the late Yasmin Ahmad’s Petronas festive ads kept it at the standard 3-5 minutes. And her ads never even showcased the product, yet it still sold an idea. There is a reason commercials are supposed to be short. If you want to make a short film, go make a short film. But you are doing a commercial, you need to sell your idea within the first minute, or you would lose your audience. See, there’s no obligation for your audience to complete watching your long-winded ad. So don’t waste their time, and get to the damned point.

Not to mention the acting was cringe-worthy. That goes to show that just because it’s star-studded, doesn’t mean there’s actually any talent in that pool. (Sorry, not sorry.)

And finally, why I’m not surprised at Watson’s ‘alternative-apology’. They stood by their idea and claimed they believe in unity, that beauty is skin deep, and that they’re sorry some people felt offended. This statement, although probably written by the PR agency, was signed off by the clients themselves. A brand that sells skin-whitening products thinks that beauty is skin deep? Give me a break. Who do you think you’re fooling here?

So there are many, many things wrong about this ad. It’s tasteless, it’s irrelevant to Raya, it’s terribly executed from writing to production to performance, but worst of all, it reflects that the real ugliness is in how we Malaysians value (or rather, don’t value) each other.

We need to do better. Brands and advertisers need to do better. Filmmakers need to do better. We need to get rid of our ass-backward way of thinking and listen to our audience. It’s not just about offending someone in a one-off commercial. It’s about ending this normalization of shaming people for their looks.

Fraternal Fallacy.

As I write these words I am short of breath Gasping for life While you court death You flirt carelessly Without any caution While I stand in the wake Of your reckless destruction Should I bleed for my blood Though I wound from his dagger Or wise up and walk away From this recurring disaster A tornado of pain A heartache hurricane As the thoughts in my brain Start to drive me insane I do wonder And ponder and picture You there All alone, on your own Do you care That her life was devoted Till the very last moment To saving her child That is lost to the current Now, in her place With her tears staining my face Her pain beating in my heart I paint a smile to cover her scars I stand upon the ashes of the home that we once shared Now burned to the ground As I breathe in toxic air I write words you’ll never hear The thoughts I can no longer bear For now I’ve met betrayal For now, I know despair.

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