Parachuting, Skydiving, and A Little White Bikini

So, it seems like I am turning 15 (oops) in a few days. I have applied for a three-day leave to go to an island outside of town. I’m so super excited!!!

I cannot wait to jump into the beautiful blue ocean in my white bikini (pardon me). I will dive in as deep down as I can go. Oh my god…. The bitch [sic]! Well, it’s going to be really fun to be out in the sun getting the vitamins. I envision myself laying on the sand sipping on orange juice, I suppose, sunglasses on over my eyes. I’ll just do that, I guess, while drowning my heartbeat into the sound of the waves washing the shore repeatedly. Or probably I’ll dance on the beach, with my radio playing Closer by The Chainsmokers and a bright yellow beach ball on my hands. Oh my.

There’s an endless list of things that I want to do on the beach and in the sea. But wait! One more thing… skydiving packages are available, and so are parachuting packages. Which one should I go for?? Oh my gosh, if I do sky dive, it’s going to be my first time yet. And if I parachute, it’s going to be my second! So what if I parachute???

I don’t know whether I will be in my white bikini still, but we’ll see. ūüėä

J’taime adore,

Red Scarlet

PS: Y’all know I’m underaged, and that’s a lie.

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I’m underaged; y’all know it. (Photo credits to Alicia Ai Leng)

Love Yourself

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Parachuting. That’s me. (Photo credits to Alicia Ai Leng.)

Part of the things that spills excitement in life is trying new activities that spark and ignite vigor in the eager soul. Yes, I am in love with such stuff, be it music, dancing, traveling, extreme sports, hiking, fashion, educating, entrepreneurship, or just plain old writing. It is a part of me I will never let go. Not for you. Not for them. Not for my faith even.

It has been a long way up, and a hard one too. Glad I made it. Still, the journey is not over. It is my own right to do as I please; I am not even going to hurt anyone. So really, why bother. The only person you are ever going to be afraid of is yourself.

There is a lot of acculturation that I have undergone, seeping into a beautiful love with my own self. It is a lot better to work on one strengths than shift focus on other matters. My faith has educated me to love myself as a woman; it has taught me the boundaries of where and what not to touch. Really, I mean it. I consider myself way better than the average woman, or even the average man (so well, I am at most times snobbish and arrogant). Not to say I feel so great, because I have done some pretty cool stuff like getting into flings and things like that. But well. I have learnt many good lessons in life.

For one thing, while most people my age are happily making babies or just having sex, I take pride that I am 25 years old and still am a virgin. I would love to stay that way as long as possible too, hopefully till 40. Despite dancing like Kesha and making guys go gaga, but well they cannot touch me.

I settled more than MYR50,000 with my own hands, my own toil and sweat – and I was nearly raped a few years back when I first left my abusive home to live alone. I had a terrible accident when I was 13, and I lost parts of my body, ie. a lung and the spleen. I wanted to commit suicide (twice), and I was suffering from depression that got so bad I was going to go sick in the head – but I put an end to it by channeling my thoughts and laying out my vision.

I sound proud of myself, perhaps. To be honest, it really matters a lot for women to develop themselves wholly first before getting themselves hitched. To know themselves, inside and out, is to develop their strengths and proliferate their abilities. It could be anywhere, from school to work to recreation.

Women also have rights to do what they want. They are not baby-making machines or sex dolls. Permit them the time and space to grow and nurture themselves. I for one have my own rights too, and one of the rights is to be left alone. And Coach D*, if you happen to be reading this, I would like to thank your wife for teaching me how to respond to special requests.

Red Scarlet

PS.: Coach D is one of the megaspeakingcoaches from the JT Foxx team.

Spirit of Sparta

I was sitting in the university classroom, pondering over what I should come up with for my Communications assignment.  Lots of things happened quite recently, and so my dear mind was in a mesh.  Rather unknowingly, I found myself bringing up a topic I had long forgotten, one that I had written countless number of times as I applied to pre-med university.  There I was standing in front of the class shamelessly tearing away at the very flesh of my own mind for words for the soul.  I was glad I could find my voice again.

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Spirit of Sparta by Alicia Ai Leng is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.

     The sound of gunshot crackled through the crisp cold morning air.  The bullet penetrated through the misty dewy darkness of twilight, escaping into the cast emptiness, beyond auditory threshold.  It signaled the fresh start of a long 21-kilometer run.  Tens of thousands wobbled at their feet, their toes still slightly cramped from the morning cold.

The senses orchestrated themselves to lots of things happening around.¬† The ears captured all¬†that was there to hear: the endless chatter of the overly-excited crowd, the rapid pattering of¬†thousands of feet, the resounding siren of the police, and yes, the gunshot.¬† The eyes looked¬†ahead‚Ķ and about.¬† They saw people in orange vests in front, beside, and behind.¬† All running on¬†their feet, their faces twitched by the lack of oxygen.¬† The sweet, small mouth ‚Äď it gasped for air. ¬†The lung expanded and contracted at normal pace in intervals.¬† The Chambers of Life pumped¬†slightly faster than usual.¬† Little drops of sweat trickled down the tiny pores of the skin, dripping¬†onto the ground.

There she was, a young woman not over 20, running on her two feet, not too fast, not too slow, a speckled dot among the entire lot.  It was *Sabrina’s first half-marathon in her life, and she was determined to make it.  Not that it was impossible; she had exerted a bit more than an hour on the training grounds running ten kilometers.  She mentally repeated to herself that she just had to go slow and take it easy.

It was only 4AM.  In the blank state of her mind, Sabrina felt extremely refreshed.  Nothing crossed her thoughts.  She was so relaxed.  There was no sign of pain as she swayed left and right (that was the way to run, right?) and her heels hit the ground.  It seemed so utterly effortless.

But no one knew.  No one knew what Sabrina had gone through, that only seven years back, her very life had hung on a thread.  That thread was about to snap if it were not for her seven lifesavers, all crowded around her in the surgery room with their green overalls on.

It had come from the back.  This big vehicle, a lorry probably, was speeding down the empty road with hellish swiftness.  A young, fat Chinese man was behind the steering wheel.  He had a companion at the back, open-air end; was he Malay, Chinese, or Indian no one could remember.

The companion was sitting at the back, but he was not sitting still.¬† He was frantic ‚Äď but, good¬†Lord, why?¬† The two appeared to be rushing from someone, something.¬† In all the hullabaloo, the¬†driver did not even notice the young girl walking in front of him.

In a matter of seconds, everything happened.  The girl was knocked down.  Her right shoe slipped out of her foot and flew off, landing distances away.  The impact forced the young woman out of her gait too,  and she landed on the ground with a thud approximately a hundred meters away.

Nonetheless the lorry did not halt its brakes.¬† It just went on as if nothing had happened.¬† It¬†would have sped off if not for the traffic lights ‚Äď and her younger brother as well.

The small thin boy ran as fast as his skinny legs could carry.  He wanted to stop the driver, and he did.  Stupefied by the horror that had occurred right before her very eyes, the boy’s mother stood watching.  The little boy made the driver’s companion hoist his motionless sister into the vehicle.  He vehemently directed the driver to the nearest hospital.

That night was a night of desperation.¬† As the heart monitor gave out its timely beep, doctors¬†worked on the body, half hoping, half dreading; Sabrina‚Äôs mother sobbed uncontrollably in¬†devastation, and her brother did his best to look calm, although signs of overwhelming distraught¬†showed in his eyes.¬† Friends and neighbors came to console the mother, but it seemed hopeless. At last¬†the main surgeon walked out of the OT. ‚ÄúShe has only 25% chance of survival.‚Ä̬† That was¬†the last thing anyone wanted to hear.

Her spleen was removed ‚Äď at least a huge portion of it ‚Äď and her lung too, for it was completely¬†lacerated.¬† Her blood capacity was below 50%, and her ankle and rib cage were fractured.¬† Sabrina¬†was now very pale and thin.¬† Her eyes were shut close as her spirit breathed on and on, considering¬†whether it should hold itself together or simply give up.

In the dire circumstances, her spirit fought through a tough combat between Life and Death, between the real and the Void.  It battled to keep the girl alive, her dear heart beating and her lung breathing.  Her warring soul never stopped for weeks on end,

Yet just when everyone was almost losing hope on Sabrina, her beautiful brown eyes flickered¬†open.¬† There were a few more battles, battles that were no as tough as the one before, but were still¬†battles.¬† First she lost her voice ‚Äď and then it came back.¬† Then she had to learn to stand up; she¬†fell hard onto the ground so many, many times the searing pain shot through her feeble spine and¬†left her semi-paralyzed for minutes.¬† On several occasions she fell headlong on her crutches as¬†she hobbled through the corridors of the hospital.

Nonetheless, she conquered each and every fight.¬† She grabbed firm hold of the crutches ‚Äď and no,¬†she did not hobble along anymore.¬† Rather, she walked the crutches swiftly, as if she were carrying¬†the crutches with her wherever she went.

Finally, she let it all go.¬† She left her crutches behind and started taking small steps.¬† Before she¬†had even mastered the step, she went ahead and started running ‚Äď or jogging, more like.¬† It was¬†very hard at first, but Sabrina always believed in allowing herself time to grow.¬† She did not¬†condone in pushing herself far too much.¬† And run she finally did.

Today, Sabrina runs, although not competitively.¬† She has completed 21 kilometers in three¬†hours ‚Äď her first half-marathon ‚Äď and she swims 10 laps in her condominium pool regularly.¬† She¬†is now a few months short to her bachelor‚Äôs degree, and is working on her first start-up, Braniac¬†Media.¬† She aims to do her Masters too, with a focus on clinical psychology, and finally develop¬†another startup concentrating on personality development.

Life is about firing one’s passions up to the maximum.  It is about winning battles all the way till the end of the tunnel.  It is about harboring a Spartan spirit, where the strength of the soul overcomes every war it faces with honor, dignity, and perseverance.

Red Scarlet

*not her real name

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Several years ago, in a galaxy far, far away….

2015 in a Bottle

Gazing blankly into the ghostly sky with its morning star hidden right behind the thick, heavy clouds, I downed my cup of espresso.  I tried to shut my thoughts and listen to the sounds around me.  I sat still in my wooden chair trying to capture some form of hope for my trusty pen to thrust its wildest dreams on.

If I could, I would.  Definitely.  I would part this sheet of paper from the book, roll it up, and then put it in a bottle Рand set it free.  Well, what if I actually did?

My thoughts would have the freedom to linger off through the water surface, forever encased in its protective covering.  Hopefully it would seek refuge from raging storms, and finally meet with amicable weather in the Atlantic, before sailing smoothly into the Indian Ocean.  Perhaps, thousands of years later someone would be lucky enough to stumble upon it when it gets itself stuck in the soggy sand.

Parts of the lines are quite cheesy, and I do have to apologize, Taylor Swift and Justin Bieber, for borrowing the words in your lyrics to vent my dissatisfaction.

Thank you for calling me a bitch.  Thank you for assumming that I am a slut.  Thank you for piercing through my heart all your sharp arrows, of setting my soul to flames.  Thank you for calling me stupid, and whatever other names you felt befitting.  I have never once been that, and I shall show you that I mean it.

The players are going to play, play, play. ¬†The haters, on the other hand, they are just going to hate, hate, hate. ¬†What can I possibly do about that anyway. ¬†I sort of knew you were trouble when you walked in to my life, so maybe shame on me now? ¬†Hmmm. ¬†All too often I was just left in blank space, baby; because all boys only want love if it’s torture, if it’s pain, if it’s hurt, and if blood oozes out from their hearts. ¬†What do you really, really mean? ¬†You were, in the end, the reason for the teardrops on my guitar (well, ok; it was really your guitar, but I held it with my dainty fingers sometimes). ¬†Finally, your friends talked to my friends talked to your friends talked to me, and so we are never ever getting back together. ¬†Not like I actually cared even. ¬†I only have to shake it all off my head. ¬†Yeah. ¬†Loving you was so red, in fact forgetting you was like trying to know someone I never met.

Nevertheless, from the ashes rose a phoenix with wings so large they carried it away from the consuming fire.  I started showing gratitude and showering my appreciation on people, sometimes even people I do not even know who helped me in doing something.  I allowed myself to be as genuine as possible in dealing with the different kinds of people I have to meet everyday.  These things cannot go wrong.  As a result, I am proud of myself for having grown emotionally stronger and bolder than before.  It could be that my feelings have been numbed from the constant hurt, but my chains have been broken, and my soul has been set free.  I hope.

A few more months Рjust one more semester РI will be graduating!!!!  (I do wish I could insert a love icon here.)  I shall be done with my degree after a long, long time.  I should be so excited right?  Yes I am, but no, I am also not.  Oh gosh, my mind is wandering to so many places!  Life is an exciting venture, a beautiful journey bestowed upon Man.  There is no other gift more amazing than the gift of life.

This year also I am chasing time to kick off my positive psychology start-up as well.  While I am working on one SBU (strategic business unit, that is) now, I will directly after I graduate, start-up the other SBU.  Currently I am looking for sponsors and venues for investors.  It has been a crazy six months running about to widen social networks and contact suppliers, and so on, whilst studying final year.  I still have not mentioned that I am also doing sales.  Haha.  Crazy times.

I have of course had my fair share of repeating heartbreaks, but yet I did all I could to keep pushing on and on.  Whether it has got to be love, wealth, fame, or self-fulfillment, I wanted it to work out this year.  I probably went a wee bit overboard, pushing myself dangerously over the edge.  But I had already decided from early this year that I am not going to let things happen to me just like that.  I am going to make things happen to me instead.

So I just want you to know: I am fiercely fighting for whatever that is meant to be mine – my degree, my start-up, and HIM!!!!!

Never say never.  All I need to do is be patient. Perseverant.  Positive!!!!  The 3Ps!!!  Oooh Рhow sweet.

Red Scarlet

Birthday

November rains are back.  Everyday it is raining, raining, raining.  The skies are crying, weeping tears of bittersweet joy.  Massive clouds of whitish-grey matter cover the sky, creating a reflecting gloom that shrouds the earth.  Some twists must be taken, must they not?

Even the air is set with a dewy mist.  Winds blow, though not too hard.  The ground is moist; in some places it is damp and soggy from all the wetness.

The wisps of mists fill the air as it evaporates, awakening the senses Рperhaps with a start Рand the soul, with a renewed vigor, skips along the sidewalks in merriment.  For through pain, through jagged maps, through persistence it came through it all, and is still coming, on its way.  One day soon it shall be no less obvious, because its dear heart would thump with powerful beats along to the tune of the music whispering in its ears.

An afternoon in downtown KL. (Photo credits to Alicia Ai Leng)

An dizzling afternoon in downtown KL. (Photo credits to Alicia Ai Leng)

November is a beautiful month, the time of the year when Mars and Pluto cross paths and stars collide.  It is the time of the year of every other year when little baby scorpions emerge from their eggs and take their very first crawl.

Oh!  The clock is ticking, and I am running out of time.  I must put on my birthday suit.  For in a few minutes I am turning 24.  How old can I be?

I am in oh-so-deeeeep love with the month of November.

Red Scarlet

PS:¬† This post was written a few days prior to the author’s 24th birthday.

Halfway There

Charon, Pluto’s beloved son – he rowed the fragile boat through the dark blue waters of the Styx. ¬†It was all pitch black except for the little oil-lamp which had been lit before they began their journey.

Lovely Athene sat below him, silent as a child, unbeknownst of their final destination. ¬†The vagueness of the mist which had so far enshrouded the air (if it were air they were breathin’) ¬†was nothing to her beautiful grey eyes; in all her purity, her vision pierced through every bit of haze, thick and thin. ¬†Her ivory white skin reflected on the murky waters as if they were but glass. ¬†And her ears – she listened to hear, but she heard nothing. ¬†Nothing could be heard. ¬†Nothing spoke of life itself; except for the swishing of Charon’s oars through the mystical river. ¬†She was all alone in this journey. ¬†Or was she?

For out of the whitish-grey fog, something big and dangerous (at least, it appeared so) scooted away from the back of a huge boulder to another.  Just what was that?  Athene asked herself. More importantly, should she proceed?  Or should she turn back?

Going back where I come from is decidedly an incredibly long way. ¬† Much time has been consumed – it must have been years, in fact; no, decades, that I have lost count. ¬†Now I am so deeply entangled within the web of myelineated axons and dendrites, like Athene who is so deeply lost in the surreal gloom, and yet steadily emerges out of the Valleys from Charon’s boat.

Athene knows she is very close to the surface of the Darkness, where Artemis the Goddess of Light shall triumph in all her glory.

I presume I am more than halfway there, too, that the answers are going to sprout up sooner or later.  Which is so because I have noticed.  It is as if I am wiping clean an old window pane that has not been dusted for centuries, and it gets clearer with every swipe.

This is of course quite exciting, in all events.  The eyes capture a glimpse of hope shimmering from the East; Dawn breaks and dew from the midnight rain cools the air with a magical mist.  I must leave, and go ahead on my journey.

Laughter

Maybe I am a little insane.  This I confess.

I just got back to my burrow after a good jog at the nearby track.  It was slightly longer than usual; and here I am referring to the distance covered.

I increased the number of sit-ups and push-ups too.  As I headed out to the nearest 24-hour store, I started feeling a recurring pain in the cardiac muscle.  Oh no, I thought.  Not again.

The first incident came about more than a year ago. ¬†It lasted for just a few minutes – but it hurt enough to claim storage in my mind’s capacity. ¬†Enough to teach me plenty of values. ¬†Of life. ¬†Of the self. ¬†Of the people around me – especially those I care for.

I drink at times, but I have never placed a lit cigarette in my mouth.  I am quite proud of the fact that, each time I hit the community pool, I complete ten full laps back and forth.  Non-stop.

What I have absorbed in my mind has taught me so much about life’s worth. ¬†I have, as of date, already discovered the cause, and in the process revealed the conclusions altogether. ¬†It is not that I wish to vye for fame. ¬†I have simply accepted the dry facts. ¬†Now I just intend to… prolong my lifespan a little bit, perhaps?

My quickest, and also easiest solution, of course, is laughing.  Laughter, after all, is the simplest and most unconventional method of healing.  Among all other forms available, laughing is such a natural remedy, especially for the pain in the heart.  I laugh at anything and everything, so much so friends and colleagues gave me a cute pet-name (that I shall not reveal!).

Yet I see this as a positive activity.  An array of happiness oxytoxins jetspray themselves into the bloodstream from the glands, every time that occurs.  They squirt out and rush off to the cheeks, giving them a soft, rosy glow.  It catalyzes the heartbeat by just a wink, and here even a wink helps.

There is, I presume, of no use, because the Chambers of Life beat so diligently… but no one hears. ¬†And so, I churn out my music on the paper.

Laugh for all of heaven's sake. (Photo Credits to Alicia Ai Leng)

Laugh for all of heaven’s sake. (Photo Credits to ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬†Alicia Ai Leng)

Spill it out. ¬†It is now very close to 3AM, and I have a class at 8.30AM later. ¬†Let’s just laugh.

Red Scarlet

The Blietzkrieg

Past midnight; really early, and it is a little more than a half-moon tonight.  A glass of chocolate caramel sits melting away patiently beside my books.

Thoughts scurry along the intricate wires of the charging station, awaiting their turn to be discharged to outside air.  Boxes of conciousness containing unspoken words swoosh along the neural tracks.

As I wade through the blurry pool of dreams, thoughts, fantasies, and feelings, and aims and goals, some left hanging unfinished, a few pleasant, and others with various degrees of disgust, my Chamber of Life pumps blood throughout my body. Upon my exit from the very first box, an array of bullets are directed towards me.

Photo Credits to Alicia Ai Leng.

Photo Credits to Alicia Ai Leng.

My shield.

I am fortunate to have it on for some form of protection, though it is still in steady, albeit gradual, growth.  At present, it is creeping upwards over my skin Рone day it shall, with absolute certainty, envelope the whole of my physique and engulf me in the Flames of the Moment.

In the sepulchral silence where I now stand, the Chambers of Life thumping ever so diligently bringing full-Blood zest to the exercise of all my wont.  My heart is still with overflowing zeal, for the eagerness of exploration to as high up and as deep down shall experience some form of continuation in my journey through the earth.

That the body seeks success and the spirit satisfaction of wisdom I cannot deny.  It is through weather-beaten paths the march shall prevail till it reaches the summit of what-not, personal achievements.

The jet sitting in the center of the hall, with all the artillery arranged in rows beside it – that I shall board and take off to greater heights.

I have already switched on the engines.

Red Scarlet

Have You Set Your 2015 Resolution?

One of my 2015 resolutions is to stop using my Facebook like my Twitter, and to use my Twitter like how I am using my Facebook now.

The feeling is hovering in me right exactly where I am writing.  It is a surging feeling, almost as if I am high Рthough I am not.  The year is drawing to a close, and 2015 is already waving eagerly at me.

I used to shun resolutions.  I used to see and hear of my friends draw out their resolutions; and found them quite silly.  I used to even feel like resolutions resembled imaginary barriers to my personal self-improvement.  That, however, turned out to be the other way round, a thing of the past.

Setting a resolution is like setting a goal.¬† Perhaps, it might sound like a child’s wishful thinking, but no, it is not.¬† It takes an individual with a higher maturity level to actually freeze whatever that is being and has been done, and begin evaluating and solving some areas in life. ¬†Similarly, it is taking a step backwards and telling yourself, “Hey, this can be improved; I just have to do something about it.”

It could be anything you do, and even nothing at all.  At times it is best to trash to the bin circumstances you cannot do much about, instead of hog at it all day.  Just allow your own mindfulness and self-awareness to seep directly into the very pores of your light.  Have the wisdom of taking different roads, and keep on track.

Making resolutions.  (Photo credits to Alicia Ai Leng)

Making resolutions. (Photo credits to Alicia Ai Leng)

Imagine the inner peace that comes along when you have set your direction.  You do not have to waste time making unnecessary turns.  You would not have to end up banging your head on the wall, however accidentally Рor even make merry-go-rounds to get to what you want and need.  You go one straight line, simply because you know where you are headed.  It may be a fast trip down the road, or an incredibly long journey towards the core of the earth, but it is going to minimize a lot of unwanted situations.

And the sense of fulfilment and satisfaction, the Eureka moment, is a wonderful by-product of alleviated emotions.

Do recall to include #StayHappy and #KeepPositive into your list, anyway.

Red Scarlet