Duran Duran says : 'I come undone'...

I hesitate to write about my life here for fear of it sounding 'kebaratan' and myself coming off like a 'mat-salleh'-wannabe (I really am not).

I hesitate to write about my efforts to preserve my Malay heritage for fear of sounding desperate to hold on to my roots and failing miserably at it.

I hesitate to write about myself at all for fear of coming off like a chronic narcissist.

I hesitate to write about the things that I like to do - cooking, gardening, crafting - for fear of coming off like the stereotyped housewife-blogger.

I hesitate to write about the things that I miss about Malaysia for fear of sounding like I'm reinforcing the fact that I am overseas - perceived by many back home as a luxury but is really quite the contrary.

I hesitate to write about my true feelings for fear of sounding weak/pathetic/sick/desperate.

I hesitate to write about religion for fear of sounding like an extremist - I've seen other people's take on Islam and to voice mine would definitely make me come off like an extremist when I'm simply being a Muslim.

I hesitate to write about my dreams and goals for fear of them never coming true.

I hesitate to write about serious issues for fear of sounding like pseudo-whatever.

I hesitate to write about the things I cherish for fear of sounding like a braggart (maybe on some subconscious level I AM bragging).

I hate exposing my insecurities but I feel it is necessary since they are some of the things that are clouding my brain. I read somewhere in O that it's good to put things on paper what you can fully understand. A good spring clean might prove to be just the psychotherapy I need....hopefully.

Now all of you be-have

My self-righteous alter-ego has made another escape and thus threatened to jeopardize another one of my already-fragile friendships. My fun-mister self was out chatting with a friend about his latest excursion into the Malaysian wilderness. Offhandedly he mentioned some hanky-panky he'd gotten into. It was a harmless escapade and my fun-mister-self fully understood the reason for this revelation. My dear friend had simply wanted to share a personal anecdote and perhaps take a little pride in his fecklessness. Without realizing it, my inner-school teacher came out and was fast typing at the keyboard, literally wagging a finger, shaking my head and going "Tsk, tsk, shame on you!" I couldn't believe it. She'd jumped out of nowhere and I was helpless tugging at her sleeves begging her to stop. She finally ceased her chastisement when my friend announced that he had some urgent business to attend to. I know full well that it was code for 'That's it, I've had enough of you!". By then I knew it was too late to smooth things over and make amends. The school teacher was gone and in her place was little Miss Nice trying to think up an apology. If only I could hold myself together better - ALL of my selves.