Previously
In a phone conversation with my mum, I told my mum that I was having dreams about my father. And how I think my father may be dead already. This was the point when my mum got all serious and said that there was something I should know. She told me that I have another father………..
“The truth can become a lie in a matter of seconds. When that happens and your whole world comes crashing down, what do you do? Do you accept the new truth and try and adjust your life to the new information that you just found out? Or do you simply discard the new piece of information and pretend like nothing ever happened? Either way, life will never be the same again”
20th January 2007, Tokyo, Japan
She told me I have another father. And the father that was in my birth certificate isn’t my real father. As it turned out the single memory I had wasn’t about my real father but it was of my second father, the one that my mother married so that I could have a birth certificate with a father’s name on it. As it turned out, my biological father was a gangster and he was murdered before the two ever got a chance to get married. As it turned out my biological father was murdered when I was three years old. Now, all the pieces of puzzle that didn’t fit before was slowly making sense.
I used to visit this stranger’s house when I was around 9 or 10. My mum would just leave me there for one whole day. They were all so nice to me. The kids played with me. The aunties treated me like their own son. There was this old lady that used to speak to me. As it turned out, that was my biological father’s sister’s house.
My mum used to ask me to talk to this stranger on the phone. He was a man with a rough voice. He would ask me about my life and how I was doing. At first, I just thought that it was one of my mother’s friends so I tagged along. As it turned out, that man was my biological father’s brother who was just released from jail.
I once found a photo of a burial service in my aunt’s (she is actually an Indonesian woman that is not really related to us but for the past many years, she has been helping my mum out so we called her auntie ever since) room. I was actually curious to find out what she was hiding behind her locked room so using a pair of scissors, I broke into her room. As I went through her stuff, I found this photo album of a Chinese burial service. Inside this photo album, I found this picture of this man in his coffin. That picture freaked me out and that picture even appeared in my dream once. I just thought it was some weird fetish my aunt had. But as it turned out, it was the picture of my biological father.
It all began to make sense. The reason why I never had a single memory of my biological father was because he was never around. My mother never introduced him to my grandfather and my mother’s family never knew of him.
My mum said that he used to take me out and buy stuff but I could not remember it. Perhaps, I was too young. My mum said I attended his funeral service but I could not remember it. Perhaps I was too young.
My mum said that I knew him but I could not remember it. Perhaps I was too young.
My tears began to flow. The next thing I know, I was already squatting on the ground with the phone in my head, but my head was else where. I began to cry. I didn’t know why I was crying. How could I cry for a man I never got to know? I just didn’t know what else to do. I told my mum I would call her back in five minutes and I went to my room. As I almost reached my room, I stopped in front of Ihsan’s door. After he opened the door, I took a pillow and began to cry again. That was the first time I ever cried in front of a friend. I didn’t know who else to turn to. The world that I knew of no longer existed. Everything changed. I no longer know what was true and what was false. Nothing seemed right anymore.
After getting a grip of myself, I was back to the old self. It barely took 10 minutes. I went to call my mum with my usual cheerful character and told her not to worry. I told her I didn’t understand why I cried. And then I told her that I would be fine.
That night, I went to my room. I lie on my bed and I realized one thing. Things might no longer be the same anymore.
As I shut my eye, I wondered if I would enter the university of my choice or not. The result was coming out the next day. Keio University's result was coming out the next day.
Although that was on my mind, it was not that important to me anymore cause I finally realized why I broke down into tears. After working so hard to fit the pieces of puzzle, the puzzles were torn apart again. And now I have to start from scratch.
But this time, I won’t be alone anymore. I have friends with me to rebuild it, whether they know it or not.
Next Week:
The last chapter of Turning 2.0 Season 2. How did this new information change my life? A better question, did it change my life? Find out next week as I enter university.
Saturday 20 October 2007
Disturbing News...
This news article was taken from Star Online. Go to http://thestar.com.my/news/story.asp?file=/2007/10/19/nation/20071019202947&sec=nation for the real article.
Baby dies after thrown from flat
PENANG: Born hardly a few hours, a baby boy was stuffed into a plastic bag and apparently thrown down from a flat in Kampung Melayu here.
The fair-skinned baby also had a piece of cloth around his neck leading police to believe that the someone had probably “chickened out” of strangling him at the last minute.
A post mortem by forensic pathologist Datuk Dr Bhupinder Singh showed that the ligature marks on the baby’s neck were inflicted before death.
State CID chief Senior Asst Comm (II) Datuk Abdul Samah Mat said the baby had multiple body injuries and fractures indicating that he was thrown from a great height.
He said the race of the baby has yet to be determined and was only born a few hours before being murdered.
Police, he said, had classified the case as murder and appeal to witnesses or those with information to call Rakan COP hotline (04-2691999) or any police station.
First-year medical student K. Vijayananthni, 21, said she was going to her aunt’s house nearby when she noticed a plastic bag in the middle of a badminton court at 12.45pm yesterday.
“I went nearer to take a look and almost fainted when I saw a small leg sticking out. I was about to call my brother at home when I saw a policeman staying near my block walking by.
“I approached him and he called the nearby police station. A team of policeman arrived at the scene, opened up the plastic bag and found a newborn baby with a piece of cloth around his neck.
After reading this article, I felt a part of me just died inside. How could someone do something this horrid? Has humanity lost in this battle against immorality? The world is changing. The world is changing back to few hundred years back where murdering babies by burying them in the ground was an everyday event.
Baby dies after thrown from flat
PENANG: Born hardly a few hours, a baby boy was stuffed into a plastic bag and apparently thrown down from a flat in Kampung Melayu here.
The fair-skinned baby also had a piece of cloth around his neck leading police to believe that the someone had probably “chickened out” of strangling him at the last minute.
A post mortem by forensic pathologist Datuk Dr Bhupinder Singh showed that the ligature marks on the baby’s neck were inflicted before death.
State CID chief Senior Asst Comm (II) Datuk Abdul Samah Mat said the baby had multiple body injuries and fractures indicating that he was thrown from a great height.
He said the race of the baby has yet to be determined and was only born a few hours before being murdered.
Police, he said, had classified the case as murder and appeal to witnesses or those with information to call Rakan COP hotline (04-2691999) or any police station.
First-year medical student K. Vijayananthni, 21, said she was going to her aunt’s house nearby when she noticed a plastic bag in the middle of a badminton court at 12.45pm yesterday.
“I went nearer to take a look and almost fainted when I saw a small leg sticking out. I was about to call my brother at home when I saw a policeman staying near my block walking by.
“I approached him and he called the nearby police station. A team of policeman arrived at the scene, opened up the plastic bag and found a newborn baby with a piece of cloth around his neck.
After reading this article, I felt a part of me just died inside. How could someone do something this horrid? Has humanity lost in this battle against immorality? The world is changing. The world is changing back to few hundred years back where murdering babies by burying them in the ground was an everyday event.
Sunday 14 October 2007
Turning 2.0 Chapter 4
Sorry, guys. I know I mentioned in my blog that I will be putting up Chapter 4 today but today has been very busy. Instead I will be blogging Chapter 4 this coming Saturday. Sorry guys. See ya..
Saturday 13 October 2007
Turning 2.0 Season 2: Chapter 3 The Pieces Don’t Fit Anymore (James Morisson)
Previously:
After 19 years, everything seemed to be going well for the first time. No more dramas as some may say. I began to live life a simple teenager. As a simple 19 year old. But things are about to change...one simple truth can flip this whole world around..and the completed puzzle will be shatterred on the floor again. Once again.
“The truth can become a lie in a matter of seconds. When that happens and your whole world comes crashing down, what do you do? Do you accept the new truth and try and adjust your life to the new information that you just found out? Or do you simply discard the new piece of information and pretend like nothing ever happened? Either way, life will never be the same again”
20th January 2007, Tokyo, Japan
I was laughing, smiling and joking. Everything seemed perfect. To be honest with you, ever since graduating from high school, I have successfully put the past behind me and I was able to accept who I was already. In fact, I was very happy with who I was. I was on fire. The one thing however that was still bothering me was that I still do not have a single clue on who my real father was. It started sometime in September of 2006.
I began to wonder what would have become of me if I grew up with my biological father. I knew one thing and that was I might not be the man I was now but still, I cannot help to wonder. As the curiosity grew, I began to search for his identity. At first, my plan was to only look for him when I returned to Kuching. I planned to employ a private investigator and searched for his where about (this move might have been inspired by too many episodes of Veronica Mars). However, by the time December came, I became more and more curious. I began to google ( I know google is not a word. It should be though since it is so commonly used) his name. Of course, my efforts were futile. At least, I found out that my father was no popular figure. He was neither a politician, nor a famous rock star cause if he was, my search result would not have been 0. Absolutely 0. Not even a single search result. Sigh...
Becoming more and more frustrated, I decided to ask my cousin, Mark. I grew up with Mark ever since I was a little baby. Mark was four years older than me. He and I almost shared similar paths. His father left him when he was young and so was I. The only thing that was different was the life both of us had after our fathers left us. My mother managed to find herself a drunk beast while Mark’s mother found herself a capable engineer. But to be fair to Mark, his life wasn’t all that people imagined it to be. Since my family was not that wealthy and have no status, there were no expectations. Thus, I am free to become who I choose to be. To come to think of it, I could become a pole dancer and noone would say a thing. But then again, I have never been very good at dancing. I have two right feet. Mark, on the other hand, lived in a controlled environment, almost like a guinea pig. So while I struggle to make my mark, Mark is struggling to get out of the shadows of his family. But we both are the best of friends (or at least good friends. If not that, friends)
So I asked Mark about my father. He said that there was something I should know.
And I was like, oh no. My father`s dead.
And true enough, Mark delivered the news. I wasn’t at all sad though. In fact, I somewhat expected it. But for confirmation, I decided to call my uncle. And so, I called my uncle up and sure enough, my uncle pretended like he knew nothing. And then, I called my mum. The phone was engage. Great. This could only mean one thing. My uncle must have called my mum to warn her. After trying 67 more times (actually it was after the third try), my mum finally answered her phone call.
This conversation was to be the phone conversation of my life.
It was short but it delivered enough blow to alter my life forever.
I told my mum that I have been having dreams lately (yeah, right). My mum asked me what kind of dreams I was having cautiously. (now, I just realized that wet dream would have been an answer that would have helped relieved the tension then but my funny bone wasn’t actually producing any hormones then). I told her that I was having dreams about my father.
And .....how I think my father may be dead already.
This was the point when my mum got all serious and said that there was something I should know.
She told me that .....
I have another father………..
(to be continued tomorow....stay tuned...)
Tomorow:
Is it possible to stay sane after such news..what did my mother mean by 'you have another father'?....stay tuned....
After 19 years, everything seemed to be going well for the first time. No more dramas as some may say. I began to live life a simple teenager. As a simple 19 year old. But things are about to change...one simple truth can flip this whole world around..and the completed puzzle will be shatterred on the floor again. Once again.
“The truth can become a lie in a matter of seconds. When that happens and your whole world comes crashing down, what do you do? Do you accept the new truth and try and adjust your life to the new information that you just found out? Or do you simply discard the new piece of information and pretend like nothing ever happened? Either way, life will never be the same again”
20th January 2007, Tokyo, Japan
I was laughing, smiling and joking. Everything seemed perfect. To be honest with you, ever since graduating from high school, I have successfully put the past behind me and I was able to accept who I was already. In fact, I was very happy with who I was. I was on fire. The one thing however that was still bothering me was that I still do not have a single clue on who my real father was. It started sometime in September of 2006.
I began to wonder what would have become of me if I grew up with my biological father. I knew one thing and that was I might not be the man I was now but still, I cannot help to wonder. As the curiosity grew, I began to search for his identity. At first, my plan was to only look for him when I returned to Kuching. I planned to employ a private investigator and searched for his where about (this move might have been inspired by too many episodes of Veronica Mars). However, by the time December came, I became more and more curious. I began to google ( I know google is not a word. It should be though since it is so commonly used) his name. Of course, my efforts were futile. At least, I found out that my father was no popular figure. He was neither a politician, nor a famous rock star cause if he was, my search result would not have been 0. Absolutely 0. Not even a single search result. Sigh...
Becoming more and more frustrated, I decided to ask my cousin, Mark. I grew up with Mark ever since I was a little baby. Mark was four years older than me. He and I almost shared similar paths. His father left him when he was young and so was I. The only thing that was different was the life both of us had after our fathers left us. My mother managed to find herself a drunk beast while Mark’s mother found herself a capable engineer. But to be fair to Mark, his life wasn’t all that people imagined it to be. Since my family was not that wealthy and have no status, there were no expectations. Thus, I am free to become who I choose to be. To come to think of it, I could become a pole dancer and noone would say a thing. But then again, I have never been very good at dancing. I have two right feet. Mark, on the other hand, lived in a controlled environment, almost like a guinea pig. So while I struggle to make my mark, Mark is struggling to get out of the shadows of his family. But we both are the best of friends (or at least good friends. If not that, friends)
So I asked Mark about my father. He said that there was something I should know.
And I was like, oh no. My father`s dead.
And true enough, Mark delivered the news. I wasn’t at all sad though. In fact, I somewhat expected it. But for confirmation, I decided to call my uncle. And so, I called my uncle up and sure enough, my uncle pretended like he knew nothing. And then, I called my mum. The phone was engage. Great. This could only mean one thing. My uncle must have called my mum to warn her. After trying 67 more times (actually it was after the third try), my mum finally answered her phone call.
This conversation was to be the phone conversation of my life.
It was short but it delivered enough blow to alter my life forever.
I told my mum that I have been having dreams lately (yeah, right). My mum asked me what kind of dreams I was having cautiously. (now, I just realized that wet dream would have been an answer that would have helped relieved the tension then but my funny bone wasn’t actually producing any hormones then). I told her that I was having dreams about my father.
And .....how I think my father may be dead already.
This was the point when my mum got all serious and said that there was something I should know.
She told me that .....
I have another father………..
(to be continued tomorow....stay tuned...)
Tomorow:
Is it possible to stay sane after such news..what did my mother mean by 'you have another father'?....stay tuned....
Monday 8 October 2007
Two New Blogs
In order to avoid this blog being too lengthy, I created two new blogs to cater to two different purposes.
The first one is Chart Twenty, where I will be posting my top 20 ipod playlist every Saturday.
The second one is My Music, where I will be posting the videos that I've made for my own songs. I will also post up all the lyrics there.
And so, this blog will be used for putting up new stories as well as updates on my life, and occasionally articles (and i really mean occasionally) that I like. So instead of scrolling down so many times, you now have the comfort to just click and go. Sounds like touch and go. Hehehe
The first one is Chart Twenty, where I will be posting my top 20 ipod playlist every Saturday.
The second one is My Music, where I will be posting the videos that I've made for my own songs. I will also post up all the lyrics there.
And so, this blog will be used for putting up new stories as well as updates on my life, and occasionally articles (and i really mean occasionally) that I like. So instead of scrolling down so many times, you now have the comfort to just click and go. Sounds like touch and go. Hehehe
Saturday 6 October 2007
Turning 2.0 Season 2 : Chapter 2 A Thousand Miles (Vanessa Carlton)
Previously:
Three months in Shah Alam, Selangor changed my perspective of life for good. I learnt to adapt to my past and have a fresh new begining. By October 2005, I have already arrived in Tokyo, Japan. Little did I know, language barrier would be the least of my problems.
31st August 2006
“The truth can become a lie in a matter of seconds. When that happens and your whole world comes crashing down, what do you do? Do you accept the new truth and try and adjust your life to the new information that you just found out? Or do you simply discard the new piece of information and pretend like nothing ever happened? Either way, life will never be the same again”
Oh my god. A year has passed since I flew to Tokyo. It’s hard to believe. I still remember that day before flying to Tokyo, my brother cried under the blanket. When I asked him why was he crying, he said he didn’t want me to leave. That broke my heart. But no, I must not show my sadness in front of him. Instead, I smiled and said that everything was going to be fine. Couldn’t bare the fact that I was going to start a new life soon, in a foreign country, I sneaked to the bathroom and cried. That was my first tears in many years (fine, many months. What can I say? I am an extra sensitive guy). And the waterworks didn’t stop there. Even as my mum bid her farewell at the airport, she cried. I however, held back the tears. I knew this was all for a cause.
It was, however, not long before I cry again. After arriving at my hostel, I sat at my bed and thought to myself, “Gosh, Japanese do have small rooms”. After that I decided to take out my things and start to settle in. That was when I found this little note that my brother and sister wrote. It says in Sarawakian Malay “ Naza, kamek sayang kitak” which meant “Naza, we love you”. I don’t know how many guys could actually not cry when they read that but I know one thing for sure though. I cried, again. (Sigh, I need to get myself a tissue. I am evolving into a crying baby. Ooh I just realized if I were to be a baby, I get to wear diapers again. Imagine the joy of not having to go to the toilet. That I could actually sit and chat with m friends for hours and not have to say 'BRB. Toilet Break'. Hehe...I am getting way too sidetracked here. Back to the story. I was speaking of tears. Owh that's right. I cried after reading the little note my bro and sis gave me) But these tears were not tears of pain. Instead, they were tears of joy. The joy of knowing someone loves you and that gave me the strength to go on.
Within a year, I learnt a lot of new things about myself. First, I am competitive. For goodness sake, I used to compete who can open his door faster with Ihsan every time we arrive in front of our rooms ( we live next door to each other). But this competitiveness helped me a lot. Imagine having to compete with smart ass Chinese from mainland China whose brains have been programmed to eliminate any competition possible. If I were not competitive, I would have been blown into pieces by this human droids many months ago. The second thing I learnt about myself was I held too much inside of me. Yes, I was becoming more comfortable with my past but because I was too comfortable with it, I began to think about it a lot. I began to play The Whose Fault Was It game with myself every night before I go to bed. But thank god, with passing time, I was distracted enough with the piles of work that I was no longer thinking about them.
The one thing that I could not forget though was who my real father was. I don’t really have much memory when it comes to him. In fact, the only memory I had of him was the time when he, my mum and I went to this mall. I saw this game console that I really loved. The next thing I know, I was in a car playing it. That was when my father and my mother told me to never tell my grandfather who bought it for me. If I am not mistaken, they asked me to lie that it was given by my father’s friend. To be honest with you, I didn’t understand it then and I still don’t understand it now. But somehow that was the only memory I had. And that was the only memory I lived with.
But thank god for my friends, I wasn’t left to drown in those thoughts. There was always someone to talk to. Ihsan, Iman, Nor and I would use to go to these 24 hour restaurants that served free flow of drinks and sat there for hours. Our initial intention to go there was to study but to be honest with you, I study more sitting in the toilet then at that restaurant. But we talked about lots of things. We talked about how Nor had this two timing boyfriend that is worthless. And then we talked about how Nor dated this two timing boyfriend that was not worth a mention. And we also talked about how Nor is foolish enough to continously be fooled by this obviously bastard. When we're not talking about tha, we talked about when we would want to get married and stuff. We talked about things that were pure crap. And that by the way, happen to be my forte. I crap very well. And it was all self educated. I didn't need to attend any crappy school to learn that. I am pure crap.
As for my studies, I was doing quite okay actually. I would go out to cafes to study at night for a few hours from time to time. The reason why I cannot study at home was because if I were to be left next to a bed, very soon I will be on that bed, thinking about the past and stuff. It was either that or lying in the bed sleeping. Either way, I could not be productive. But yeah, because of my routine of studying at the café, my results were improving and I was slowly coming close to achieving my goal of entering a university that everyone deemed impossible, especially if you were a student without Chinese Language background. To come to think of it, I am actually learning Chinese while learning Japanese. Cooool. Kiss my ass, Mark. You're no longer the only one that can read few Chinese characters. Now I can read them as well.
Next week
Have you wondered what the tag line is for? What could it be that changed my life for good (or for worse)? It all happened in a span of 30 minutes. Stay tuned for next week's back to back stories. Chapter 3 shall come up on Saturday while Chapter 4 will come up on Sunday.
P/S this story was intensified to make it more melodramatic. I am actually a happy living individual that bounces from wall to wall. This story was shared as a way of accepting all that has happened and find the humor in them. Actually, another minor reason why the story is shared is to function as a way to fill the spaces in my blog. Laugh out loud.
Three months in Shah Alam, Selangor changed my perspective of life for good. I learnt to adapt to my past and have a fresh new begining. By October 2005, I have already arrived in Tokyo, Japan. Little did I know, language barrier would be the least of my problems.
31st August 2006
“The truth can become a lie in a matter of seconds. When that happens and your whole world comes crashing down, what do you do? Do you accept the new truth and try and adjust your life to the new information that you just found out? Or do you simply discard the new piece of information and pretend like nothing ever happened? Either way, life will never be the same again”
Oh my god. A year has passed since I flew to Tokyo. It’s hard to believe. I still remember that day before flying to Tokyo, my brother cried under the blanket. When I asked him why was he crying, he said he didn’t want me to leave. That broke my heart. But no, I must not show my sadness in front of him. Instead, I smiled and said that everything was going to be fine. Couldn’t bare the fact that I was going to start a new life soon, in a foreign country, I sneaked to the bathroom and cried. That was my first tears in many years (fine, many months. What can I say? I am an extra sensitive guy). And the waterworks didn’t stop there. Even as my mum bid her farewell at the airport, she cried. I however, held back the tears. I knew this was all for a cause.
It was, however, not long before I cry again. After arriving at my hostel, I sat at my bed and thought to myself, “Gosh, Japanese do have small rooms”. After that I decided to take out my things and start to settle in. That was when I found this little note that my brother and sister wrote. It says in Sarawakian Malay “ Naza, kamek sayang kitak” which meant “Naza, we love you”. I don’t know how many guys could actually not cry when they read that but I know one thing for sure though. I cried, again. (Sigh, I need to get myself a tissue. I am evolving into a crying baby. Ooh I just realized if I were to be a baby, I get to wear diapers again. Imagine the joy of not having to go to the toilet. That I could actually sit and chat with m friends for hours and not have to say 'BRB. Toilet Break'. Hehe...I am getting way too sidetracked here. Back to the story. I was speaking of tears. Owh that's right. I cried after reading the little note my bro and sis gave me) But these tears were not tears of pain. Instead, they were tears of joy. The joy of knowing someone loves you and that gave me the strength to go on.
Within a year, I learnt a lot of new things about myself. First, I am competitive. For goodness sake, I used to compete who can open his door faster with Ihsan every time we arrive in front of our rooms ( we live next door to each other). But this competitiveness helped me a lot. Imagine having to compete with smart ass Chinese from mainland China whose brains have been programmed to eliminate any competition possible. If I were not competitive, I would have been blown into pieces by this human droids many months ago. The second thing I learnt about myself was I held too much inside of me. Yes, I was becoming more comfortable with my past but because I was too comfortable with it, I began to think about it a lot. I began to play The Whose Fault Was It game with myself every night before I go to bed. But thank god, with passing time, I was distracted enough with the piles of work that I was no longer thinking about them.
The one thing that I could not forget though was who my real father was. I don’t really have much memory when it comes to him. In fact, the only memory I had of him was the time when he, my mum and I went to this mall. I saw this game console that I really loved. The next thing I know, I was in a car playing it. That was when my father and my mother told me to never tell my grandfather who bought it for me. If I am not mistaken, they asked me to lie that it was given by my father’s friend. To be honest with you, I didn’t understand it then and I still don’t understand it now. But somehow that was the only memory I had. And that was the only memory I lived with.
But thank god for my friends, I wasn’t left to drown in those thoughts. There was always someone to talk to. Ihsan, Iman, Nor and I would use to go to these 24 hour restaurants that served free flow of drinks and sat there for hours. Our initial intention to go there was to study but to be honest with you, I study more sitting in the toilet then at that restaurant. But we talked about lots of things. We talked about how Nor had this two timing boyfriend that is worthless. And then we talked about how Nor dated this two timing boyfriend that was not worth a mention. And we also talked about how Nor is foolish enough to continously be fooled by this obviously bastard. When we're not talking about tha, we talked about when we would want to get married and stuff. We talked about things that were pure crap. And that by the way, happen to be my forte. I crap very well. And it was all self educated. I didn't need to attend any crappy school to learn that. I am pure crap.
As for my studies, I was doing quite okay actually. I would go out to cafes to study at night for a few hours from time to time. The reason why I cannot study at home was because if I were to be left next to a bed, very soon I will be on that bed, thinking about the past and stuff. It was either that or lying in the bed sleeping. Either way, I could not be productive. But yeah, because of my routine of studying at the café, my results were improving and I was slowly coming close to achieving my goal of entering a university that everyone deemed impossible, especially if you were a student without Chinese Language background. To come to think of it, I am actually learning Chinese while learning Japanese. Cooool. Kiss my ass, Mark. You're no longer the only one that can read few Chinese characters. Now I can read them as well.
Next week
Have you wondered what the tag line is for? What could it be that changed my life for good (or for worse)? It all happened in a span of 30 minutes. Stay tuned for next week's back to back stories. Chapter 3 shall come up on Saturday while Chapter 4 will come up on Sunday.
P/S this story was intensified to make it more melodramatic. I am actually a happy living individual that bounces from wall to wall. This story was shared as a way of accepting all that has happened and find the humor in them. Actually, another minor reason why the story is shared is to function as a way to fill the spaces in my blog. Laugh out loud.
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