Watch me spew poison...Hell knows no fury

I wonder who messed with my settings. Or maybe I unwittingly hit some buttons. Now the blogger homepage and the dashboard that appear on my screen are in Chinese. It's so difficult to read those Chinese characters. It's because they look somewhat more complicated than what I learnt in school. Luckily, my brain associates the relative positions that they occupy to the functions they represent as I remember them when they were written in English. But it still looks very weird. Please change it back, someone.

I love the weather now. So cool, sometimes cold. But it's great and augurs well for my complexion and my hair too and my hands. My hands feel so soft and my hair looks glossy and healthy. A hiatus, as brief as it may be, from the hot and humid weather is always welcome.

And I have about 30 christmas cards on my table, all beautiful cards, better than the ones we had last year, 6 of each of the 5 designs, waiting to be personally written and signed by yours truly to clients, a task I have been putting off for 1-2 weeks. But I don't think I can procrastinate anymore, since Christmas is round the corner. I have to get them out quick if I want them to be delivered before christmas. If there's anything worse than not sending your christmas greetings, it's not sending them on time. This is one of those situations where late is not better than never. If it's late, it comes across as an afterthought. And that diminishes the sincerity of the wishes, regardless of how well-intentioned they may be.

I hate writing on those cards. My handwriting is only passably legible. And I always feel the need to come up with original lines, cos for some reasons, I think an original line of greeting speaks volumes about my sincerity. But do they really matter? Do the clients really care? Do I really mean to be sincere about my wishes to them? Do I really want the year ahead to be a rewarding year for them? Answers are no, no, no and no. So why do I bother?

The same logic extends to presents too. Do I want the receipients to be blessed? Do I really want them to be all well and good? I don't bear ill will on them. But I certainly do not want them to be more successful or happier than me. I will be sad if they keel over and die. But I do want their existence to be as ordinary as mine or worse. So why bother to shop for the perfect gift? It's damn time-consuming.

Once upon a time, I considered myself pretty altruistic. Not the epitome of altruism. But quite. I prayed for my sisters to do well in exams, literally got down on my knees to pray. Prayed to god to let them do well, and if I remember correctly, even asked god to take away some of my grades to give them. I was such a sweet girl. I loved myself then and still do when I think of the person I used to be. So sweet and giving. So generous. So selfless. I downplayed my own success in school and music out of consideration for my sisters' feelings. I comforted them when they were scolded. Was gracious enough to congratulate them on a job well done.

I wonder what changed me. I can't put a finger to it. It happened gradually, I think. It became the world against Oddball.

"Ambiguity has never been my thing, so I can't tell if you're being genuine or not, Oddball." Some commenter on another blog said to me last week. My instinctive response to him? Frankly, I still have not quite figured this out too, which is why I am the oddball that I am. Ambiguity basically encapsulates pretty much the essence of who I am. I am such a contradiction sometimes.

I used to root for people to succeed, now I root for people to fail. But when people do actually fail, I empathise with them. I comfort them to make them feel better, and I do this with utmost sincerity.

When I do comment on blogs, I generally mean what I say. And more often than not, I only have good things to say cos I think I choose to see the good side of things. I know it's easy and somewhat reasonable for people to construe my too-good-to-be-true comments as a display of hypocrisy and I won't say they are entirely unjustified in drawing that conclusion. Perhaps the lack of intimacy over the web creates an imaginary bond and a false sense of solidarity with the person. Perhaps I am just desperate to get in touch with that compassionate side of me that has been obscured by the side I choose to show others in real life, before it becomes totally obliterated. Perhaps the person is nothing more than a virtual person over the web, thus I don't perceive him to be a threat, which is why I feel secure enough to speak truthfully since there isn't an iota of a chance he will ever materialise in my life. He's not in a competition with me. No sort of defence or aggression is necessary. Hence, whatever compassion and empathy I withhold in real life, I let them show through my comments in the virtual world.