Moving On…
Dad’s passing was a shock to us all at home.
He was helping me in so many ways, until his last breath {he had earlier followed me for the presentation in the South, a week before his final breath}, despite my complaints that he shouldn’t drive down – that I’d gladly pay for the business seats for the three of us via Malaysian Airlines. He insisted he’d drive down instead, and that I should not splash my money just so that he’d get a bit of comfort.
I dislike traveling for more than ½ hour in a car, in hot sordid Malaysia. When you get out of the vehicle, you’re likely to be flustered, angered, and so not in the mood to even smile and be courteous to the ones who do that for a living.
It has been terribly hot lately – In Paris, I’d call the brigade. It’s an Indian summer – in Malaysia, it should be termed that as well – there’s hardly any rain, or storms – they’ve conveniently decided to visit China instead. If any calamity should fall, it should be here, in Malaysia – the percentage of people praying as opposed to those indulging in vices {like blogging, where one guy emailed me saying that I’m prostituting my words to get attention – I write to get attention only to propagate the idea of a Foundation for Women & children! – it should have been already setup, but people who dish out promises should be shot dead! – as of 2008, I only want to work with serious people}.
I should hope that snowstorms would be a wonderful add-on, to this torrid heat. I need ice – I spend too much time under the shower. When the faucet stops, I perspire, and stink like the boy who works in the supermarket, despite the incessant spraying of “Chance“. Last night’s dinner date with Faisal, and Selina was welcomed, but my heart is restless these days – I don’t want to settle in Malaysia – I cannot take this insult any longer – every breath, I pray that it’ll be better. Every heartbeat, I lament, that things should be better – It’s difficult to live a positive life, in such a negated country, like Malaysia.
This morning I awoke, and prayed hard.
I also cried.
I cried because I miss dad, I cried because the people I approach for the Business venture didn’t have the cheek to revert or acknowledge the seriousness of setting up the foundation & business to sustain it instead of begging from all the plausible doors of wealth. I cried because after living for so many years, the ones I approach hints a percentage of the profits before an infra is even set-up. If living is just a play of words, and seriousness is deemed troublesome, people shouldn’t be in business or talk about attaining wealth.
Have you had one of those years where you just don’t want to follow suite with the mundane…? Where a new challenge is needed, a new face, and a new environment? With dad’s passing it was time to move on, but not just thinking about it you know – but doing it, shooting and cutting those who think you’re just a tart who doesn’t know how to make things work. I sometimes wish that men who talk about money would appreciate time, instead of talking about their dreams.
I can make dreams come true – I can also crush asunder someone’s life in a blink of an eye. I’m not called a Goddess for nothing!
“Man forms his future by his actions; his every good or bad action spreads its vibrations and becomes known throughout the universe.”
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