Narcissism

The Story of Echo and Narcissus

Echo was a lovely nymph who loved to talk. Once, she incurred the wrath of Hera and was punished to never be able to speak again, except to repeat the last words of others. One day, she saw the beautiful youth Narcissus and fell deeply in love with him. Alas, she couldn't speak to him, nor could she tell him of her love! Thus, quietly, she followed him. When he discovered her, and spoke to her, Echo could, but repeat his last words in response. Thinking that she had mocked him, Narcissus dismissed her coldly and asked to be left alone. Heartbroken, Echo pined away to the mountains where she continued to repeat the last words of others. Narcissus, when taking a drink by a stream, chanced upon his reflection in the clear water, and thinking it was a beautiful water-nymph, fell in love with himself. In vain he begged the nymph to come to him! He wouldn't eat, for he cannot bear to go away from the beautiful nymph; he couldn't drink, for if he reached out to the water, the nymph would disappear; eventually, he died pining for his own reflection. At the spot where he lay, sprung flowers, named narcissus, which loved nothing better than to gaze at the reflections of own pretty selves in the water.

Thus, is the myth from which narcissism originated, and the term describes a person who loves and admires himself excessively.

A Thought

We all want to be loved and admired - and be remembered and missed, when we're no longer around. I do, at least, even if you do not. To gain that sort of recognition and admiration, you need to be great at what you do, to surpass your peers and to stand out. You need to push yourself to a level above the rest and be absolutely excellent.

But then, if you are so good, and out of reach of the intellectual ability of the general population, who would be left to acknowledge your talents? Who would be able to appreciate you for what you could do, if they are unable to comprehend the true worth of the work? Such then, who would be left to love and admire you, and to remember and miss you when you're no longer around?

I take a lot of pride in my uniqueness and talent(s) but would I be loved and admired for who I am, for the qualities I possess, and not for what they could get out of me? I hardly think so. This is fairytale wishful thinking. All those childhood readings must've gotten hardwired into me. I need to stop being idealistic and wake up! This is a cold, hard, cruel world. Deal with it!

I need to love myself. I need to be narcissistic.

A Birthday

My heart is like a singing bird
Whose nest is in a water'd shoot;
My heart is like an apple-tree
Whose boughs are bent with thickset fruit;
My heart is like a rainbow shell
That paddles in a halcyon sea;
My heart is gladder than all these
Because my love is come to me.

Raise me a dais of silk and down;
Hang it with vair and purple dyes;
Carve it in doves and pomegranates,
And peacocks with a hundred eyes;
Work it in gold and silver grapes,
In leaves and silver fleurs-de-lys;
Because the birthday of my life
Is come, my love is come to me.

by Christina Rossetti, 1857

Many happy returns to all the July babies! Yes, there are quite a number of you (though not as large a number as the October babies...) and yes, I remember each one, though 2 thick-skinned ones thought I wouldn't and had to remind me on the eves (I remember la, don't need to remind...).

Here's wishing all of you great times, plentiful blessings and many dreams come true. Happy birthday!

Seeking the Joy

I first knew him when I took his English class, 11 years ago. He was known as the killer for that course, and everyone was afraid of being in his class. In the very first class, there were about 40 of us, and by the second class, there were only about 20+ left. Only about 15 of us survived to take the final exam (don't know how many actually passed though...). I cannot speak for the rest of the students at the time, but I myself truly respect and admire him. He's focused and achievement-oriented, kind and generous, understanding and the best mentor I'd known since my college days. He is sarcastic, yes - but those who were the target of his sarcasm sooo deserved it.

As a lecturer, he was exceptionally caring, despite being strict in class, and always demanded for the best we could manage. He never hesitated in giving advice, words of comfort, and assistance in any ways he could, even when I was no longer his student. He'd take my calls, entertain my questions and consent to see me whenever I needed - and I know he's extremely busy.

Right after graduating, I paid him a visit and he arranged for my very first interview (there and then!) which resulted in my first job, which I held on to for 6 years. Throughout my time there, he proved to be just as great a superior and friend, as well as mentor.

I am gone now, to a place I still feel I do not belong. I'd gone through a period of serious depression and am still rather stressed out all the time. He told me to take things a step at a time, to not think of all at once, to first learn to enjoy what I'd enjoyed doing in those first 6 years of my working life. And I really do appreciate this piece of advice, and I do feel that my poor, battered emotions are improving, so long as I could find some joy in my daily tasks. I am seeking - truly am, though truthfully, I am nowhere close to the state I was in, once upon a time.

I'd been reading some old posts which I wrote three years ago - this one for example, never fails to make me laugh (erm, yes I can be quite full of myself sometimes...). Look at this one too. And there were a handful about the naughty ones who wreaked havoc in class - and who could ever forget the "controversial" Re-Test-ers post!

I wish I could find the passion in doing this again. I am trying, and will keep trying. Thank you, Dr Lim, for the sound advice. I am so blessed to have known you!

Thoughts of a Coward

It goes like this -

"Oh, I don't want this anymore, but how could I say it? Your friends and all our mutual acquaintances would point their fingers at me for being heartless, which would be absolutely unbearable to my pride and ego. I have run out of excuses, I do not know how else I could elude when next you confront me. Could you please not confront me anymore? If I avoided you long enough, would you say it to me instead? I need to escape from you, physically and virtually! I shall block you on all my online communication channels, I shall block you from all my social networking profiles... oh wait - I shall block all your friends too! I know you have some pretty fierce ones, and I don't want their claws around my neck! There - I've gone into hiding."

I have seen cowards before, but none as seriously chicken droppings as this @#$%& who'd just proved ITself that IT is most definitely NOT a man! Enough - no more, ever, shall we refer to this sampah masyarakat!

Hoa Lu and Tam Coc

This post is probably not going to be half as long as the previous two I had written on this Hanoi vacation. You'll see why presently. The bus ride from Hanoi to Hoa Lu took 3+ hours, with 1 uninteresting stop midway, and that spells nothing to write about. There!

We reached Hoa Lu in the late morning, probably an hour or so before noon. This ancient city used to be the capital of Vietnam for a short while, about a hundred or so years ago. There wasn't much left to it, and all we saw were the ruins of a temple, so small that we could completely explore it within half an hour (and that's with purposely lingering at places that didn't need lingering...).

The ruins of a temple at Hoa Lu

From Hoa Lu, it was about 20 minutes' bus ride to the next destination, Tam Coc. Some of the tourists were going to cycle to Tam Coc instead, as they said there would be beautiful scenery along the way. Our package didn't include the cycling, but we could opt for it for a small fee. Of the 6 of us, only Mr Kopi wanted to cycle. The others were too fat / lazy / puteri lilin (myself included, though extremely tempted...). The journey on bicycle would take about an hour, so the rest of us had some time to linger a little while more at that God-forsaken place before going on our 20-minute bus ride. The bus took us directly to a restaurant at Tam Coc where we had lunch. It was buffet-style but I could not find anything palatable to eat. It was really disappointing.

We, the lazy bums, had half an hour or so to spare after our meal (because the cycling group reached considerably later than we did) and we explored the streets outside of the restaurant. It was very sunny and hot that day, and we ladies ended up buying cloth bonnets from the roadside peddlers for VND20,000 (RM4) a piece. Yes, our faces are very important, and should not be left to fend for themselves in that merciless, scorching afternoon sun.

The main agenda of the day was boating at Tam Coc, to explore the rocks and grottos along the stream. The entire boating experience was to take a couple of hours, but I believe I did not keep track of the time because the view was indeed somewhat breathtaking (and it was really very hot!). I took so many shots that before we disembarked, my camera battery was running low!

The line of wood-and-metal sampans waiting to take on tourists

(Sing) Row, row, row your... GAH! I'm tired! Nah, take back your oar!

Along both sides of the stream were small, discontinuous patches of paddy plants, and there were many rock formations, very similar to those we saw the previous days at Ha Long bay, though perhaps not quite so vast. There were mountains all around too. The highlights were three separate "grottos" which we went through - twice each - once on the way there and once on the way back. Interesting - that's the only adjective I will provide.

Rocks

More rocks

We took two to a boat, each with either one or two rowers. There were two rowers in the boat that I was in, and they were husband and wife. They could speak minimal English, but were able to convey these information - they were married, in their 40s, and the wife's sister was a rower too. She also showed me the calluses on her hands. Yes, it was hard work rowing tourists day in, day out, every day, for your whole life... (do I sound sarcastic?)

The mountains


Entering a grotto


Exiting a grotto

After the third grotto, we reached this little lagoon surrounded by mountainous rocks, with patches of paddy in the water, and floating sharks. That's right - sharks in boats selling drinks and snacks, who'd corner tourists and pester them to buy refreshments for their rowers. No one could escape the harassment, as the boats would not be rowed away until the passengers had given in or simply given up (and given in) - the sun was glaring, burning upon our skins, and all we wanted was to just go! Needless to say, we gave in and bought some drinks for our Mr and Mrs Rower. There - I hope you're satisfied now! Oh, but they weren't, and the journey back to where we started was not as fun. Mrs Rower started showing me T-shirts and embroidered pieces of cloths, pushing them at me, persuading me to buy, and boy, wasn't she relentless in doing so! I thought my neck would snap from shaking my head too much!

Our arms are tired, don't mind us rowing with our feet!

Upon reaching the shore, they demanded for tips (gah!!!). Apparently, that was the standard practice, because it happened to everyone! But well, the unpleasant excessive money-seeking aside, the trip itself wasn't half bad. At least, it was not as bad as the food we had for lunch, or the washroom at the restaurant which had see-through doors (yikes!)

The journey home was much longer than the one in the morning, firstly, because there was an accident somewhere along the way, which caused quite a traffic disruption. When we finally reached Hanoi, the bus got stuck in a massive traffic congestion, which rendered us nearly motionless for close to an hour. As fate would had it - that day was the eve of their national day, and people everywhere thronged the city - for what, I believe I knew not. There were so many vehicles that each were just one or two inches from the one next to it, and the symphony of honks were playing resoundingly. Imagine how it was like - for the Vietnamese, who honked all the time when their vehicle was moving, who now could not move though they really wanted to! However, we noted one thing about our bus driver - we were running late according to schedule, the traffic was frustrating, and we had been in the bus for over 4 hrs by then - though his hand was permanently pressing on the honk, he didn't seem at all stressed by the situation he was in. He talked and joked with his assistant and the tour guide as though they were in a coffee shop! How I wish I could maintain that sort of relaxed mind when I drive!

We asked to be stopped at Hang Gai or Hang Dao (gosh, it's been quite a while and I can't remember clearly which was which!) so we could go straight for our dinner. The bus driver wanted to drop us off in the middle of the huge roundabout cum cross junction (right in front of Ga Ran Kentucky), where vehicles came at all directions, heading to all directions, honking and criss-crossing each other, incessantly, without heed for traffic light nor rules... and well, we objected, of course. There was no way we could had braved that sort of traffic. We asked to be dropped off at the smaller lane, where we could step out of the bus and land on the sidewalk, instead of in the path of a scurrying bike. Then, it was off to dinner, and last minute shopping (to spend whatever remaining VND that we still had)

My dinner! Not very Vietnamese, yea

Our flight was early in the next morning. We woke up at a record 5+ am, and were ready and down at the lobby by 6am. The two fellas who took care of the place were still sleeping there. It was somehow weird to see 2 guys sleeping together, on a matress placed upon the floor right next to the main entrance - not so much on the sleeping on the floor, than the sleeping together... Anyway, one of the guys got up and made breakfast for us. We all chipped in some cash and gave him a tip for being such a sweetie (and for being quite cute too...).

It was raining when we left, but the journey to the airport was smooth and uneventful.

Inside of the airport

After checking in, things took a turn to "eventful". To cut the long story short, I had an accident in the toilet where my left index finger got caught by the door, and a considerably huge slice of skin and whatever else came almost clean off at the tip. How bad was it? Blood was dripping onto the floor (you can imagine). It was so painful I cried. No, I didn't intend to cry but the tears came anyway. Fortunately, my friend had a plaster with her which I could apply to the injury and stop the bleeding. But it didn't stop my poor finger from throbbing badly on the flight all the way back to KL.

Yea, some of you saw me in this condition for several weeks...

I went to a doctor's out of fear of infection, and I actually grabbed his hand when he attempted to remove the plaster I had on the wound (followed by squeals and feet-stamping when he ripped it off... that poor doc - had to put up with a big baby like me). After a dose of antibiotics and several weeks of wearing bandages on my finger, I'm happy to say it's good as new! For the record, the previous two posts about this vacation was typed using a maximum of 9 fingers, whereas this one was typed using all 10! (which also serves to show just how long I procrastinated in the completion of this one...)

And that was the (almost) complete account of my trip to Hanoi. Would I go again? For vacation - well, probably not.

*prev*

Scumbags

I do not understand why some men are such cowards. You wanted out of a relationship? Say it! What are you afraid of? Or perhaps ashamed of? You do not dare to say it in person - you write a letter, you send an email, or you send an SMS - bad enough. But to not say it at all? To just evade and avoid, and to keep silent when confronted - simply despicable! No doubt, some girls are tough enough to take that kind of trash behaviour, but most simply cannot accept it! This is especially true for first loves. We girls take first loves very seriously, and we really love to the greatest degree possible. We do not deserve to be treated like dirt - to be discarded casually without any more than a blink of the eye. Where are your guts? Your balls? You don't have any?!

#1
Her love was true and pure, and you know it. You have been with her long enough to know just how innocent she was in this matter of the heart. You knew she'd long built castles in the air, thinking of growing old with you. She loved you with all her heart and you let it all slip the moment another girl cast eyes on you. Are you so weak that you have absolutely no self-control? No will power? No honour? So you actually think with your reproductive organs? I'd always thought that was just a myth. I suppose I ought to thank you for proving to humanity that whatever's at your groin can actually take over the functions of whatever's in your skull. Offspring of a female canine!

#2
She loved you so much so that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with you. And what do you give her in return? A load of your self-insufficiencies! You are insecure about yourself and you make her pay the price. You refused to paint her the future she dreamed of, refused even to talk about it or let her know why. Do you seriously think that she could, and would wait for you indefinitely? That she would be content to just be, without being given any reasons, while you sort out your pathetic self and work on improving your miserable existence? You must have been born without a brain. You'd only effectively wrought permanent hurt in her heart, you lowlife scum! Anus!

#3
She loved you deeply and you hardly appreciate it. You go about your frivolous life, expecting her to be there always, waiting. You expect her to cater to your every childish whim while you would not even try to understand her - her feelings, her needs. She gave you her heart, and you threw carelessly around, trampled on it. You are not a man - of that I am convinced. I should think a true man cannot stand to see a girl cry, what more the girl he purportedly loves. And yet, you thrive on her sorrow, her misery, her tears! Heartless, callous, insufferable - you are truly a copulating offspring of a female canine!

Did you think that was harsh? Well, that's what you get for hurting the people I love! Scumbags, all of you! I have nothing else to say!