Coffee and Biscuits

Every now and then when my thoughts are still and quiet.

Before I sleep, and the moment I wake up.

I will visualise the aroma of my grandmother’s homemade coffee.

She brewed a fresh metal flask of coffee every morning.

She will scoop five tablespoons of freshly grounded malaysian coffee beans into a sock.

Pick up the handle of a kettle, and pour boiling hot water into the sock filter.

She would pour out the brewed coffee into a metal container before pouring it back to the sock about three times,

then she would cover it and leave it on the countertop for five minutes.

All this time, I would be sitting on wooden chair by a circular marble table in the kitchen, watching from the distance.

She walked with a slight limp on her left leg towards me and open a tin of biscuits and put some biscuits onto my plate.

Then she would pour a two full mugs of coffee. But she would serve my coffee while she left her mug covered on the countertop.

I would dip the large squarish yellow biscuit into the coffee to soften it before chomping it down. The coffee was sweetened with condensed milk and had a bitter aftertaste like dark chocolate. I would savour each bite slowly as my grandmother washed the dishes. After I finished my meal, I would run to watch television for the usual 10am cartoon show. Then, my grandmother would sit by the marble table with her coffee and biscuits while watching me from afar.

Years later, she is still with me in my thoughts and memories, and everytime I feel down or upset, I would go to a malaysian coffee store and purchase a cup of coffee. But no coffee tasted like the one my grandmother made, they made me think of her, but nothing in the world could replace the love and care and dedication she made to serving my meals every morning before herself. She made sure I was taken care of at every step of the way, and placed herself second in everything she did in relation to me.

I never saw or realised this when I was younger. I used to think she was annoying when she called seven times a day to ask if I would be visiting her, and she would be dead soon. I never understood she had dementia and could not remember if she had called just before. I never understood her love, nor did I see that I was her favourite grandchild and I was female, she didn’t care if I could not carry on the family surname for my dad only had one descendant.

Sometimes I want to write her a letter to express my gratitude, and I am lost for words as I could not speak or write in hokkien as fluently as I could in english. I wonder if she could read my heart, or hear my song as I write these words. That I miss her so much. I miss her coffee, her touch, her expression of love towards me. There are only so few people in the word that I would ever meet in my lifetime that would show unconditional love. She was my grandmother, and my one and only grandmother. If anything at all, she saved me from the blink of disaster during my dysfunctional teenage years, for her love was constant like the waves of the sea.

Slowly, she lost her mind. She would stare blankly into space while she lied in bed from day to night. She could no longer recognise my cousins, me or my relatives. She only recognised her caretaker and my uncle. She would call for help like a child to be fed and bathed. She jerked her body when she was cold. It was painful to see her deterotiation over the years as she became frail and skinny. We lost her to dementia.

When her coffin entered the furnace, it struck me that the very person I was running away from was now the person I wanted most in the world. I wanted her hug and to see her jovial smile once more. I wanted to hear her laughter and her voice as she spoke loudly to my relatives. I wanted her to call out my name. It’s been three years since she had passed on, but my heart longs and pangs for her love. Although I could not understand a word she said, all her actions communicated her love for me.

I miss her coffee, and no other coffee could ever replace the one she made.

A Performer in Theater Arts

18156170_10156061021902195_8029908303624107521_oThe very first role I got as a lead actress was when I was 14 years old in a school play production. It was a grueling intensive that I spent my summer holidays reciting lines and doing exercises in front of large groups of people. The coach would reprimand me on the spot in front of others, “if you forget your lines, we will replace you,” was the echo of his words that haunted me in my sleep. We dedicated hundreds of hours to perform at Victoria Theater. I was finally on stage in a lead role at a young age. The school play was advertised in the news as the theater could seat a few hundred people.

My mother watched the performance. This time, she was the audience and I was on stage. She was usually on that very stage I was on, performing her classical piano pieces, leading a choir and being a prominent musician in the scene. This sudden reversal that my mother was now at the audience supporting me was a revelation that I am all grown up. I had taken my baby steps on stage by giving flowers to musicians after they played their piano pieces. The musicians gave me a hug and carried me off the stage mostly, as I barely crawling and half walking. The audience clapped for the musicians and my mother. I was a tiny little flower girl walking next to their knees. I enjoyed the shared attention they got and relished in it.

When the play I acted in ended, the audience stood up to give a round of applause. This time it wasn’t for any musician, it was for me and my troupe. It was deeply satisfying I was now performance ready. I lost my stage performer virginity that night. My mother drove me home. She commented my make up was thick, and that I could make improvements to my hair. Nevertheless, she was beaming in happiness. She shared with her friends, “Oh, my daughter was the lead actress at Victoria theater. She is a dancer too, and appeared on television.” None of her friends could believe my mother, looking like she was barely in her 30s had a daughter, let alone a daughter who was established in the arts scene, like herself.

Fame came too quick and I was too young to handle the attention. I was mostly stalked in public to the point I had no more privacy in my life. Everywhere I went, unwanted attention from my fame followed me like a shadow. I got bullied in school for being an actress and dancer. I acted on some side roles on television, and after the shows were aired, my schoolmates would make fun of me and call me nasty names and whisper behind my back with suspicion, “Oh that girl is an actress, she was on telelvision.” They distrusted me for being a public figure and I sat mostly alone during recess time and no one wanted to be my friend. I fell into a deep depression and was sent to the school consellor, who initiated a transfer for me out of that school.

After transfering to another school, I excelled in humanities and developed an introverted personality whereby I spent inordinate amount of hours dedicating myself to writing essays and reading books after books. To the point my teachers would read my essays out aloud in class and set them as example essays to follow. Although I no longer appeared on stage or danced, the attention now shifted to my writings. I registered averral.com in the year 2007 and this blog is now live for ten years.

My writings were mostly filled with sadness, despair and I channeled most of my energies into and poured my heart into my words for I could no longer dance or act and be accepted for who I was. I avoided attention, the stage and the public. I am now making a dramatic return to performing live on facebook to overcome my fears and to conquer my past – which continues to attack my mind. I will eventually move into the direction in performing live in front of large audiences, and finally embracing who I really am – a performer in theater arts.

 

 

I am Self Absorbed

I was narcissistic, self absorbed and I spent long hours looking at myself in the mirror dancing and touching my body while imagining it is someone else’s hands doing so. I was exhibitionistic and had a few million views on YouTube. I took photos of myself everyday with precise selfie angles. I loved showing off my dance moves and displaying myself publicly uninhibitedly in a way that is empowering to the world who watch the way I move. However I had transcended my artistry from serving my need for validation to the disappearance of my ego by being the mirror of what the world has created me to be. I had chosen to pursue happiness by disappearing my ego into the universe, to find myself in the eyes of others. From the eyes of the universe, I see myself dancing in the cosmos – that is true happiness and bliss – my soul lives forever in the cyber galaxy.

AverRal Gaming Friends

Hi gaming friends, if you find me please be in touch with me by sending me a message on CONTACT. I would love to connect back with you. I had been meeting and catching up with guild mates who had found me online via my blog or facebook. I would love to know what you are doing in life now. My previous positions are listed below for easy search on Google.

AverRal Renewal Online, Dark Palace, Guild Leader of Overkill (2000 – 2002)
AverRal Ragnarok, Chaos, Guild Leader of IxIAversion (2002 – 2004)
AverRal World of Warcraft, Thaurissan, Guild Officer of Clique (2006 – 2007)

Other games you may have seen me play in lanshops – DOTA, Counterstrike, Left for Dead.

I quit gaming for good after our guild became top in the server and I raged quit WOW with my best friend.

The best part is I got my best friend back in real life.

Applying the same skills in gaming in business management proved to be a valuable asset.

Hope to catch up with old friends to know what you are doing in life. I am reminising those great times we had.

Shatter Me – I am not a writer but creator of worlds

The distinction I got is that there is a difference between being a writer, and a creator of worlds. I am a creator of worlds, not a writer. A creator of worlds creates new realities, new possibilities and new ways of being. I am a creator on unorthodox mediums. My YouTube Channel has 2 million views on a solo production with over a hundred videos. My book downloads will trespass the 100 000 mark to hit a million by 2021. My blog has over 700 posts.

The only way I can reach the next stage of my new way of being of being a world renowned author is to shatter my old identity. Shattering my old identity by destroying it completely and reinventing a totally new way of who I am today. Who I am is my word. I am shattering my old identity as of today. I am shredding the parts of inauthenticities and comfortableness of being ordinary. I am taking on being uncomfortable, challenged and creative. I am taking on being unreasonable with myself on a daily basis. I am taking on working out and keeping to a diet to maintain peak performance levels. I will no longer be deterred by my fears,

I am taking on being uncomfortable, challenged and creative. I am taking on being unreasonable with myself on a daily basis. I am taking on working out and keeping to a diet to maintain peak performance levels. I will no longer be deterred by my fears, demons and past. My past will no longer have a hold on me. From this moment on, there is only a forward pull towards greatness. There is an inherent power within me as I write this.

I had denied my own inner power to live a comfortable life. But from this moment on, no more. By shattering my old identity, it means being uncomfortable. It means doing things I will normally not do. Taking actions beyond my old comfort zones. Being unreasonable with life, and taking a stand from where I am standing from to move from ordinariness towards greatness.

When my identity is no more, a universal self-emerges. I will not be in the way of my universal self. I will let it be who I am as the natural way I am being. I will be holding myself out as my universal self that connects to all regards of culture, countries or languages. What I create will resonate as one shared humanity, and the impact of my creations will be radiated into generations to come.

I will unleash my inner power and take on powerfully a life I love and to live an extraordinary life.

 

I am Irreplaceable.

I was cast as the lead actress in a high school play when I was fourteen. I was given a script to memorise and put through an intensive program in the school play production. Day after day, we would rehearse our performance under extremely stressful conditions. As with lead roles, I was assigned a double. The double would replace me in the event I fell sick on the actual performance day. Deep inside me, I had a fear she would replace me, she would take my role and all my hard work will go to waste. If I couldn’t recite one line, my heart rate went up and I had a fear that my coach would remove me from the role.

The production went well and we performed at Victoria Theater, the very theater that I used to run around and hide under the velvet curtains. I fulfilled on acting in a theater production in a lead role, for my first footsteps on stage was to give flowers to musicians after their performances to the applause of the audience. This time, the audience was clapping for my performance.

Since the experience of being cast lead, “I will replace you,” has been my detriment. It ticks me off. It could be anyone saying it to me. “My ex could do those things you can’t.”, “If she can do it, why can’t you?” The very sensation of being replaced is the reason why I couldn’t perform publically without the fear I would be removed. I did everything I could to ensure I would not be replaced, I have my own YouTube channel, wrote my own books and stayed away from finding a job that where I would be “replaced”. After discovering this is my biggest constraint and blindspot, I gave up this up completely.

I no longer fear being replaced, for I am simply, irreplaceable.

Transient Passage of Time

In this transient passage Screen Shot 2017-05-08 at 2.09.38 pmof time, we will meet others in our path. One thing for sure is that we are all going to die. What we make now from our journey to the point of death is the only thing that matters. From this blank state of canvas, what is the picture we will paint today for our reality? What is the world we will create around us?

I discovered through disappearing, that everything becomes nothing. Like a black hole, everything gets sucked into nothingness and dissipates. We inherently have the ability to disappear problems by recreating, reconstituting, reconstructing. The very act of disappearing is a black hole phenomenon. We have the ability to disappear and recreate, disappear and recreate. It is an ongoing what we declare in language that constitutes what happens next, next and next.

I never felt ready for the world, I held back and limited myself by letting my fears take over who I am. But who I am for the world is beyond who I am, I am ready to take flight, I am ready to disappear myself and reconstitute and recreate my reality by consideration. By consideration by waving a magic wand, I can create a life that contributes love, beauty and knowledge all over in all my interactions with others.

 

 

Love & Beauty

There was no love, no beauty, no soul, radiating out of my writings or creative works for the past few years. For as far as a I can remember, I bottled my emotions in a jar and never let it out. I was afraid of showing the world who I was, and being up to something bigger than myself. I kept myself locked in a cage in a self inflicted masochistic suffering for no reason. It was a small game, and it made me grew smaller, and smaller till I lost significance of who I was.

I covered my insecurities with acquiring wealth, with travels, with luxury fine dining and goods. I ran away from my family and friends for years in circles, and I never confronted my past. I would not commit to anything, but I did the very basic things to survive life by getting things out of others, to the point of being manipulative. I was in a bad shape, and I never looked at myself in the mirror without feeling disgusted with the way I was. I would not look at myself in the mirror, for I see nothing reflected back at me.

To myself, I am a disgusting human being who is dirty, unclean and filthy. As much as I try to upkeep my appearances by diligently following a set of skin care and work out routines, deep inside me I abhor the way I looked. I wondered why people kept staring at me. Why did they keep looking at me. Why people kept asking if I am actress, if I am Eurasian, if I am this and that, and why can’t they just speak to me as the way I am.

I traced my ancestry and there is not a slight drop of European genes in my genetics although my hair and eye colour is dark brown. It is a genetic mutation. Being of a unique exotic look meant I was the center of every social situation attention. I hated how I look. Why can’t I be pure chinese, or ordinary looking, why can’t I just blend in and be like everyone else. Why can’t I be… why was a gifted with a look that made me stand out from others?

It is the difference in the way I look that made me an outcast in school, I would get caught every year for dying my hair although I didn’t. My hair appears copper red under sunlight. It is naturally occurring. My tuition teacher would put my hair under the lamp light and examine it, wondering why my hair colour is brownish copper red. He came up with a theory it was iron production. Whatever it is, I was disgusted with my genetics, that I didn’t fit in or belonged to any social situation.

There was no love, no beauty, no nothing. There was angst, hate, disgust, destruction from within me. I would dream about what zombies to kill, how to dominate my opponents in the online games I was engaged in, how to conquer fortresses and how to manage teams of people to do so. I was nominated guild leader in a number of guilds, and my last post was being a guild officer of a top ranked guild in world of warcraft before my best friend and I decided to quit gaming to pursue our life dreams. Everywhere I went, leadership followed me like a shadow, but I never responded to the calling. I never faced who I was and I ran away from my creations, my shadows, my past and my future. I spiraled downwards to the point I was too exhausted to run, too feeble to resist, and too weakened – that I stopped avoiding.

By facing my past present and future fully, I am regaining the reins of my life, restoring the parts of my identity I rejected, and being a whole and complete person by making a declaration of who I am to the world. That it is my word that who I am is to radiate love and beauty in all my relationships, and contribute knowledge to the future generations to come. I accept the way I look in the mirror, and I no longer hate my genes. I accept that I have a unique look and that’s what I am gifted with. I will use my gifts to contribute to the world, and be beyond who I am by being there for others. I will create reality by consideration by consciously creating the world I want to see today and I will no longer run away from who I am.

Acceptance

I had wound up being where I am today because of what I had inherited from my environment – a childhood surrounded by libraries and books, a competitive streak as a result of my teenage gaming years, a series of broken relationships due to my dysfunctional nature of being unable to receive love, a love for art and theater and travel from what I was exposed to. It is an inherited context that I wound up being where I am today as an author of two books, a YouTube channel with two million views and an entrepreneur.

I wound up being a dysfunctional solitary person who believes  “I am not understood and the world is full of suffering.” that propels me to do what I do, without any need for recognition. I had doubled people’s incomes and set them onto their life path just by them having a conversation with me. There are layers upon layers most people are unable to confront, which I unwrap till it reaches the core before they are set free into a path of who they truly are.

In the process, I am disappearing myself completely by being there for others, in my community and the world. In the disappearance of myself, only can universalism arise. I am disappearing my need for validation, for the need of love, for the need of anything egotistical. I am disappearing myself, by being in the eyes of others.

In my disappearance, I am letting go of my need for a lover, my need for a soul mate, my needs for anyone to satisfy any of my wants. I am letting go of the loves in my life, and my broken past, my nightmares, my flashbacks, my pain and my pleasure.

I am fully engrossed in reality by being there for others, being the person I truly am. In my disappearance, I have broken out of the cocoon and I am free to soar the skies as a butterfly.

I had finally accepted myself for who I am.