Food for the soul

Of late, my buttons have been pushed too many times. I am beginning to feel the strain, to the extent that I feel I should get away for another break. My soul needs to be fed. Yet it has been barely a week that it had its meal; a trip to the Louvre Museum.

The lil one is an avid traveller. I remember how patient she was while I was trying to figure out my way around the metro system. Taking the train was an adventure for her. All she wanted was to see the Mona Lisa, thus explained on her patience level.

It feels like it was only yesterday that we took our 2nd trip on our own to the royal city in Southern Europe. The trip which took place three years ago sowed her seeds of interest in arts and history. Our hotel was centrally located, making it convenient to walk to the nearby tourist attractions. When we saw the palace, she requested to see inside. So I paid the entrance fee and off we went, exploring each chambers, looking at the treasures, painting etc. She was excited and eager to know the detail of each, asking me to read the description.

Her passion continued.

I remember one of the moments in the museum. She was sitting on a bench in the middle of the gallery. Her body was facing a painting which was next to the Raft of Medusa. She was reading the guide with a serious look on her face.

I captured the moment, somehow it felt not to be missed. It wasn’t the place that fed my soul, but rather having her by my side to share our interest.

I think I need that again.

*Ms B realised it will be a long weekend next week and contemplated whether they should go to the Vatican city or chill out at home and do DVD reruns. That was before she found out she’ll be on an away (stressful) job, leaving her the option to get another DVD box set and hibernate herself at home. She hopes it won’t evoke unnecessary emotions as she tends to get carried away watching soap dramas.*

Of honesty..

Booth: Look Bones, you can't go around tellin' everybody what's on your mind even though it's the truth, okay? Look, what if you and I were going out, right? And you were, y'know, taking forever to get ready and you came out in this dress and, I told you I didn't like it, what are you gonna do?
Bones: I'd reevaluate, change, or ignore you.
Booth: (sarcastically) Of course you would, Bones. Good answer.

Sometimes I feel I can be harsh. Whenever my opinion is sought, I have no reservation to give my piece of my mind, especially to those who deserve it. I am always neutral or civilized to most people but to a handful, I will try my best to be honest.

If I don’t care about you enough, I wouldn’t be bothered to give a fair view.

I expect the same from my friends and most of the time they do, even when their opinion could probably break me into pieces. You should know that I am only made of skins and bones, hence the delicate nature of my physical attributes. If I can be blown away by strong wind, what about hard core truth? (Ok, I may be exaggerating but you get the picture).

Sometimes my view can be unexpected and not consistent as the majority would say. I can only relate to my own personal experience and those shared by others. I give two sides of the coin and let you consider.

At the end of the day, only we can define our own happiness. Yet, we should know our course of action would affect our loved ones, directly or indirectly. If their opinion and feelings matter, more or less it defines our happiness as well.

Some say honesty may not be the best policy but for some us, it is better to get one than still be blinded by our own illusion.

Do re mi

Dont you wish you were there?

Mona Lisa's spell

Picture from wiki

Why does everyone like her so much?
Because of her hands, folded one over the other?
Or her smile?
Or her eyes that follow me around?
She has bewitched me.

~My Little Louvre, Musée du Louvre, Paris ~

Perfecting a mask

pic from discoveryouritaly.com

Sometimes people carry to such perfection the mask they have assumed that in due course they actually become the person they seem.
— W. Somerset Maugham, The Moon and Sixpence

Many moons ago, I had a discussion with a dear friend on image portrayal. For example, a perfect couple who seems to have them all and leads a lifestyle one can only dream of; the cars, the house, the holidays and of course, the must-have handbags. We would think that Lady Luck is on their side and undeniably for some of us, we wish for something similar.

Yet, when the portrayal of the lifestyle becomes excessive, it becomes unclear whether such act really reflects what lies beneath. It feels as if one tries so hard to be or appear happy. Somehow, those flashy appearances hide away the unwanted thoughts and feelings.

As another friend points out, indulgence serves as a quick fix for temporary happiness. Tangible things are pursued to compensate for the things we long for but unable to have. We seek for the company of others to take away the loneliness, even when their presence annoys us.

Sometimes I feel such indulgence hides one’s insecurity for not being able to have the things that truly matters.

A home, no matter how small or remote it may be, feels warm and bright with the presence of our loved ones. A holiday can just be a trip to a nearby park or beach, capturing the Kodak moments which would be treasured most. A gift becomes more meaningful when effort is placed to make it unique, even when it costs close to nothing.

A couple who appears that they can’t stand one another may have more romantic nights than a pair who looks perfect. A family who dines at a fast food place and grabs each other’s meal would probably have a great time compare to one who eats at a posh restaurant with little interaction.

Wearing a mask can be wearying. I suppose when one feels insecure by the lack of things that makes them happy, one is left with no choice but to do so.

Dangerous delight

Oh dear, where do I begin?

I am aware of the lack of writing for the past few weeks. Time was indeed not on my side. When they did, my juice couldn’t flow as much as I wanted, thus I left the idea trapped inside my head. I realise how much I miss writing and I’m not talking any random entry to fill up the space (although I must admit most of them weren’t unrelated. You just have to be clever enough to read in between the lines, and I know most of you do. *winks*).

First of all, we had a girls’, or perhaps mothers’ night out. I cant remember the last time I had this much of fun. The concert was awesome! If a genie grants me a wish, I would happily ask for a night of passion with Mr Mraz. All I want is for him to serenade me all night long. *dreamy eyes* Although, I dont think I’d mind if he wants to strip tease as well. He does have a lean body and not too muscular, just the way I like them. *winks*

Reality wise, my social life has improved. I try to squeeze some “me time” and sometimes we adjust to our circumstances, thus the kids tag along. Thankfully, all girls have the same wavelength. Moms and kids enjoy books and coffee, which makes the outing easier. Yet, on that topic i.e. social life, my friends would probably be more interested on the dates, if any. Actually, that would be the main topic in most of our conversations, as far as I can recall.

I had. Although one was technically coffee with a new friend without the presence of other friends, thus I am unsure whether it qualified as a date. Nevertheless, it is refreshing to hang out with another human being. Ok, an adult, preferably male.

Coffee didn’t come easily. I took me awhile to digest that it was in the menu but as I am bad at reading signs, I had to ask friends whether it was. A smack was given of course. It was clear that coffee was intended without others tagging along.

One day, out of the blue, I finally said yes. I blamed it on the pressure I had at work which led me to such reckless act. I knew how he looked like as we’ve met a few times before, both of us in our plain Jane and John mode. As I got off from the lift, I saw a guy smartly dressed in his suit searching for a familiar face. Our eyes met and we smiled. It wasn’t what I expected. The suit emphasised his features and I realised how good looking he was. For awhile, I had to catch my breath and regained my composure.

Coffee went surprisingly well that both of us lost track of time. I suppose I should thank this bold side of mine. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have had a good time and would keep on guessing his age, which by the way, wasn’t as young as I expected.

Perhaps, once in a while, we should be reckless in our journey. For all we know it might turn out to be a dangerous delight.

The love letter

I got tired of waiting, wondering if you were ever coming around
My faith in you was fading
When I met you on the outskirts of town

And I said
Romeo save me, I've been feeling so alone
I keep waiting for you but you never come
Is this in my head, I don't know what to think
He knelt to the ground and he pulled out a ring
And said

Marry me, Juliet, you'll never have to be alone
I love you and that's all I really know
I talked to your dad, you'll pick out a white dress
It's a love story, baby, just say yes