Brain Dump

  • Let’s Call it a Year

    Let’s Call it a Year

    Mon, Nov 29. We are at the close of November, and I have decided to call it a year. December will just be a floating period of time, where we take a look at the past and plan for the future.

    I learned to “call it a year” from a friend who basically gave up on 2021, albeit a little bit earlier than I. 2021 has been trying, though in some ways better than 2020, but it is also worse in some ways than 2020.

    I am not excited about 2022 at this point, I just want to relax in December.

    So far, it has been a series of days and months dragging on the floor, fighting the urge to go into the rabbit hole. Fighting to keep one’s head above water should be an Olympic sport that most of us have found ourselves playing, with almost zero experience. I say almost zero, because I seem to find myself in these situations, but still managing to return. I am nowhere close to being an expert at surviving.

    Perhaps we need to keep fighting. Always keep fighting.

    But perhaps, in some instances, it is also okay to take a break.

    And this is me, taking a break.

    I shall sit down on a bench and stare at the world. It does not have to be at the beach – because that is impossible right now – but whatever I can, I will.

    In the great scheme of things, we have but one body, mind, and soul. Unless you decide to sell your soul and others inhabit it…. that’s different…? But we should be able to stop for a while.

    Feel the breeze, close your eyes, and let things be.

    How has your year been so far?

  • [Book Review] House of Salt and Sorrows by Erin A. Craig

    [Book Review] House of Salt and Sorrows by Erin A. Craig

    Description:

    In a manor by the sea, twelve sisters are cursed.

    Annaleigh lives a sheltered life at Highmoor, a manor by the sea, with her sisters, their father, and stepmother. Once they were twelve, but loneliness fills the grand halls now that four of the girls’ lives have been cut short. Each death was more tragic than the last—the plague, a plummeting fall, a drowning, a slippery plunge—and there are whispers throughout the surrounding villages that the family is cursed by the gods.

    Disturbed by a series of ghostly visions, Annaleigh becomes increasingly suspicious that the deaths were no accidents. Her sisters have been sneaking out every night to attend glittering balls, dancing until dawn in silk gowns and shimmering slippers, and Annaleigh isn’t sure whether to try to stop them or to join their forbidden trysts. Because who—or what—are they really dancing with?

    When Annaleigh’s involvement with a mysterious stranger who has secrets of his own intensifies, it’s a race to unravel the darkness that has fallen over her family—before it claims her next.

    from GoodReads

    My thoughts

    “House of Salt and Sorrows” by Erin A. Craig is a retelling of “The Twelve Dancing Princesses” fairytale but with a darker spin. I am in love!

    You’ve seen multiple retellings of Cinderella, Beauty and the Beast, and other stories. But The Twelve Dancing Princesses is a story that I have yet to read being retold. This version has mystery, romance, horror, gothic, supernatural… and salt. It has a lot of elements of water, it reminds me a bit of The Wicked Deep, but the world building is much more immersive. It reminds me a lot of Edgar Allan Poe’s work. A quiet psychological thriller, horror story.

    The pace is quite fast, especially from the middle onwards. Like a nightmare unfolding that you cannot escape… Exhilarating.

    ‼️ Warning: I would NOT recommend it for those who cannot carry darkness right now. There’s elements of suicide, murder, gore, psychological manipulation, mental health issues, and more.

    I gave it 5 stars on GoodReads.

  • Drafts

    Drafts

    I’ve written entries almost every day for the past week or so. Yet they languish in Drafts. Some are half written, left hanging due to a child screaming for more juice, or a husband who has asked something or other.

    Drafts. Something akin to blog purgatory, where one sits waiting to be processed. Like those books found in the “The Library of the Unwritten” by A.J. Hackwith (review to follow), they once were stories that were meant to be shared with the world — or maybe not.

    Some days, I find myself thinking why I should still bother to write. Yet, in the middle of a busy cafe or on the road under the pouring rain, the stories still come. About the child who stood in the middle of the road soaked in the rain, with foul stagnant water past her ankles, begging for a few hundred riels, or the guy who sits on the top floor of the building nearby, topless day in and day out. Or perhaps the story of the little girl who asked rolled on the floor of the store in front of the bank, because her parents would not buy a chocolate bar. The parents’ reactions are priceless.

    So while I sort through the muddle of stories in my mind, they rest in Drafts waiting for a time to come into fruition.

    Meanwhile, we carry on.

  • On Assumptions

    On Assumptions

    I suppose one of my pet peeves is when people make assumptions that are based on their beliefs, rather than based on facts, information, and research. I believe that it is possible to deduce possibilities – but not state it as facts – for basis of an assumption.

    Assumptions on Race

    I would rather not call out anyone to their face as “racist” but I do have a tendency to call people out for making racist remarks. I find that the people who tend to make assumptions are the ones who are ill-informed, or who basically have not had many encounters with a variety of people.

    So, I sometimes feel the need to point that out. I have heard some people say things like “oh these people are thieves…” they are not. “These people are always lazy…” not all!

    It stresses me out.

    Judgement based on photos

    I take a lot of pictures wherever I go. Sure, there are picturesque areas, and there are some that are more eye-opening.

    When I first moved to Cambodia, I saw so much beauty in the architecture and the vibe that made me take photos of everything. My mom rolled her eyes and said, “what beauty?” She couldn’t see what I saw.

    Recently, some people have come to judge Cambodia over photos I share on my Instagram account. Photos, I believe, that show daily life or at least a less glamorous view. But as a result, some people have concluded that Cambodia is as rural as can be.

    This is not the case. Cambodia, like many countries, have rural areas and urban areas. I, however, am always an island girl at heart. Nature and bits and pieces of life will always make me smile. My feed, my decisions.

    Take my featured photo as an example… it was captured from a moving car as people continued to transact despite the mini flood. This is a reality. At the same time, you can see that urban Phnom Penh is littered with sky scrapers, too.

    As they say, there are two sides to a coin.

    We cannot help but generate judgement, I suppose. But keep in mind that what you assume based on what is shown may not always be correct.

    That is all.

  • Chaos! Mayhem! Aja!

    It is 1:51 p.m., and I start to write here of all places, when I have a 3:00 p.m. deadline. I hate deadlines. All I really want to do is sit at the beach, feel the sand between my toes, and relax — and get paid for it. Because, why not?

    In the middle of a hair pulling episode, I am taking a step back to just breathe. It is chaotic out there. Indeed.

    In the great scheme of things, so many ideas are popping in and out of my head on a daily basis — so much that my dreams involve Dashboard reports, numbers scaling high. And then waking to a reality that is far from the truth.

    Reality currently looks like a sink full of dishes and pots to clean, a laundry basket that is ye high, and clutter everywhere. Toys, lots of toys and mini cars that have caused my untimely fall more than once, and boxes. Yes, littles and their interest in boxes makes me want to cry.

    Please, please… please don’t tell me I am awesome and I am a mom. I can do it.

    I know I can.

    🙂 I know…

    But it isn’t always perfectly lined boxes and clean floors. It takes a lot of effort to maintain everything. As what my friend Paulie once said, “your energy is spread out.” Indeed, my energy is spread out like paint splatters on walls that simply refuse to come off.

    Bah! Another thing to clean up.

    Amidst Peppa Pig’s voice in the background, I suppose this is the way for me to zone out for a while and write what my brain wants to write. To breathe and let the brain do the work for a while on something creative.

    Which reminds me, we have something in the works. Do stay tuned. 😉

  • Sitting in Silence

    Sitting in Silence

    Have you ever just sat in silence and stared at the world?

    I do that frequently. Living in the big city can sometimes drive an island a little bit crazy with all the noise. That is why I sit and stare… a few minutes a day.

    Today, the Cambodians celebrate the Queen Mother’s birthday. If we were at our previous location, we could easily walk to the riverside and watch the fireworks display. If this was pre-COVID time, there would actually be people gathering.

    But this is not that time.

    My neighbors, however, are feeling celebratory. The Cambodians certainly love to drink. Any reason to drink, they will drink. Reminds me sometimes of Filipinos, too. But Filipinos drink to be merry and chill. Cambodians seem to drink to drown — to forget their woes.

    This Filipino can drink on her own. In silence. Pondering and musing about life and existence. This Filipino doesn’t need a crew to drink.

    Lets sit in silence, beer or gin. Whatever. Choose your poison.

    Happy Friday.

  • The future is not fated, it’s created

    The future is not fated, it’s created

    Well, here we go again, attempting another run at a new blog. The previous one, and its stories, have gone down after a severe virus attack took down almost all of our websites.

    But we are lucky to have recovered one of the websites, which is actually a frequently visited website.

    Now, I’d like to cry and fret about the effort I spent on my previous blog, but I think its a little bit too late. Besides, I would like to think that I have matured a little bit since the first one was created. Which brings me to the title, “The future is not fated, it’s created.”

    Indeed, we are all masters of our fate, and of our future. So we simply cannot sit down and just let things happen without having a say, and at least try to dictate the course to reach the future.

    MORE ON THAT LATER. For now, please welcome me again.