The meeting yesterday was communicative, though not interactive. Amongst all the views presented, the one thing that stuck was the inflation rate thatIndonesiawas seeing.

The low interest rates whichIndonesiaprinted in July at 4.61% did not come as a surprise, but a chord struck when food inflation was muted, unlike most other Asian economies. The data appeared quizzical to me from the June numbers, but I never went beyond puzzling over the lower food inflation, until the word “complacent” was thrown up.

The base year for the current basket of good is 2007, since thenIndonesiahas accelerated its pace of growth. The effects of growth, I believe, have perhaps trickled down faster than expected. The basket of goods used to measure the consumer price index is no longer applicable, as the demand for quality evolves. It does not make any sense to see one country have lower food inflation, when all other countries in the region are continuing to see large price pressures from food. Despite the currency appreciation the Indonesian rupiah has seen, I do not think it justified to explain the fall in food inflation.

If this proves correct in the future, then the BI would be seen to be severely behind the curve and would either have to 1) allow the rupiah to appreciate more or 2) hike rates. Interest rate hikes may be the first policy tool used, so as to minimize the magnitude of impact on exporters. The hike in rates can only mean one thing: steepening of the curve. At this point, I prefer the short end of the curve, pay rates at the long end.

Someone once told me the right decisions are always the hardest ones. Like taking the blade to your vein so the poison will not kill you, like taking the step back in order to move forward. Sacrifices. We sacrifice because we believe in the greater good, the betterment, for love. We give the world, but more often than not, the world is not wanted. A sacrifice with no receiver makes it nought.

The reality more stark than I have ever seen it / The contrast more glaring than ever before / Bury the pain behind facades / Painted face I start again

Will you sift through the rubble ?

I get lost in daydreams all the time / I would not admit it even if it were true, though I think it all the time / Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue / The mythical unicorn in my mind / I leave it in the centerfold of my dreams / To merely stain the pages of what is not to be

The days at work seem increasingly trying though nothing has changed significantly. I meander through my days of nought, shoving myself into auto-pilot each and everyday. Everyday is a struggle to find the point in life, and everyday I feel farther than before. I bought myself a new handbag to try to cheer myself up The smell of leather, the touch of skin, only for it to be hidden in the dark corner of my room to prevent more wagging tongues. 

I’m tired. I need to find new purpose (other than my shoes and bags). HAH.

Exactly one year ago you sent me this:

Hi,

Now that the initial anger has subsided, I cant help but feel I have to write to u. I know I shd not and I know you moved on but i dont know why my heart seems to be holding out.

Timelines dont matter anymore, who the person is doesnt matter either. Granted i was angry and hurt, very hurt and in a lot of pain but those subsided really quick. What remains is the emptiness. The regret over not being able to rescue the r/s. Maybe I’m a fool for still talking to u and not kicking u out of my mind, but i’m guessing u are still talking to him and not kicking him out even though he did all those things to u.

Reading ur sms replies to me, they inflict a lot of pain. your chill, ur cold and ur lack of emotions/tears towards me. i cannot love to order. much as i wld want my A(ss) back, i also know, my A(ss) would not be this cold towards me, this chilling or this cruel. maybe one day my A(ss) will resurface, maybe not.

hoping will only cause me greater hurt, cause my closest friends more heartache and exasperation and impact my work negatively. maybe u really do love him, in a way u never loved me before, love works in funny ways and i cannot say whats right and whats wrong. i only wish u loved me the way u love him. because i really loved u. whether u think i did, i dont know. or perhaps i wish i cld have loved u in the way u wanted to be loved.

im sorry for not being able to make u fly. to make u soar. i did try my best and perhaps its just not good enough.

Z

Precisely one year on, you make an offer to ‘make out’ – whatever that is supposed to mean – for money and the supposed ‘favour’. (This coming from the man who swears he would never pay.)

You can try to deny that it is a direct monetary offering, but in effect, it is, for VAT no less. And maybe you believe it is okay to ask, because you did me a “big favour” for helping me purchase the bag (He made the offer to do so, by the way. And I’m pretty sure his heart was not in it because he was busy getting to know The girl, hence forgetting VAT.) Or because you think I owe you big time for the ‘big discount value’ (when he bought the wrong size, which means no discount value and the forgotten VAT – double whammy! – when I reminded him to claim VAT on an earlier occasion. I mean, seriously, which doofus goes overseas and has not enough common sense to claim VAT? “Oh no… Is that why he’s an ex? Haha!”) Or perhaps you think it is okay to ask because of the long prior history we had. Trust me, none of the scenarios make it okay. And even if you were reactionary, because I rejected your advances, it is a clear reflection of the person you are, because I haven’t seen any subsequent apology. So that puts you in the category of a slimy bastard, as much as you would like to believe that you are so much better. (The neat little excuse of “can’t always be super nice to you” just saves the day, doesn’t it?)

Therefore, I am grateful for the reminders that you are not a nice person. I am not your sex toy for your desires, nor your stresses, at least, not anymore. Please be nice to the next (SQ) girl, the move last night was clearly reminiscent of M.Chin, which is so distasteful anyway.

Yours Sincerely.

So here’s a little shout out to you wonderful people, whether or not it’s because you really care or you are plain kaypoh. Hello you.

For a long time, actually, for as long as I could remember it, I have told my dad not to drink. I’d call him up (when he first got a cell) to remind him. Remind him before he left the house, complain when he got home (swaying side to side). The cycle weekly, unto deaf ears it fell. Till recently, (I think when my dad hit 60), I come to a point whereby I leave him to do his drinking free of my nuisance. I sometimes pick him up from the bar he drinks at, to ensure he does not drink and drive. Whatever makes the man happy. He is an old man, who feels like he managed to cheat death when he’s alive at 64, instead of 6 feet under before he is 50 like my grandfather and my great grandfather and great greats before him. For a few good years, I cut out the nagging, just gentle reminders to moderate the drinks. Live and let live, because we’re all trying to be happy in this convoluted world.

That is until a couple of months ago, where his heart specialist told him to stop, else face the prospective of a failed heart. And so it begins.

-

Today, I am upset. Today, I am upset like my head may explode from the anger I am feeling within. As you unwound me, I let the tears flow freely. You laugh and make jokes about my survival abilities. What you don’t see, is me, crying in the toilet and reeling like the snap of the ruler against cold clammy palms. Nobody sees it, but everybody has a good laugh from it. I am the court jester and no one sees the pain under my painted face. I powder my face again and smile. Smile like it hurts if I stop.

This depresses me. I think I need to see a therapist.

Painful, wrenching, yet hopeful and ingenuous. Tumultuous. I don’t actually know what to make of the year. I learnt about reality, I learnt about lies, I learnt about truth.  I learnt about love, I learnt to love more selflessly, I learnt hope.  My heart just feels very tired this 2010, and I begin to wonder what I live for.