Excerpts and photos from http://raddblog.wordpress.com/2009/12/05/phone-box-library-westbury-sub-mendip-somerset-england/



A traditional red phone box has been recycled into one of the country’s smallest lending libraries – stocking 100 books.
Villagers from Westbury-sub-Mendip in Somerset can use the library around the clock, selecting books, DVDs and CDs.
Users simply stock it with a book they have read, swapping it for one they have not.
“It’s really taken off. The books are constantly changing,” said parish councillor Bob Dolby.
He added: “It is completely full at the moment with books. Anyone is free to come and take a book and leave one that you have already read.
“This facility has turned a piece of street furniture into a community service in constant use.”
A resident dreamed up the idea when the village lost its phone box and mobile library in quick succession.
Westbury-sub-Mendip Parish Council bought the phone box from BT in a national scheme for a token £1.
BT has received 770 applications for communities to ‘adopt a kiosk’, and so far 350 boxes have been handed over to parish councils.
Phone boxes have been turned into art installations, a shower and even a public toilet.

I visited my friend at the same hospital again.
Each time I walked into the ward, I get the feeling as if the rollercoaster ride is about to take off.
I was excited - because I'm about to see my friend.
I was scared - because this is the key reminder of my darkest monsters.

My friend had a lot of company around her bed, both visitors and newly made ones from the ward.
We all talked, shared food and enjoyed each other's conversation.
Just when I thought 'maybe it's not that dark afterall,' a new patient was wheeled in.

She came in unwillingly, with her hands bound to the bed.
She was crying, and cursing everyone.
She felt that everyone was ganging up against her.
Afterall, how many of us are comfortable being put into the psychiatric ward?
In future, when we have to fill up application forms, how do we answer to the question,
"Have you been hospitalised? If yes, for what reason?"
This experience is a permanent scar.

Many of us around my friend's bed was reminded of their similar experience.
Everyone had different medical backgrounds and experience but we agreed how hard it was to accept.
We all knew that none of us can say or do anything to help that poor lady feel better.
She has to learn to cope it herself.
We were all certain of this.

I'm a very sentimental person.
Whenever I come across old things, I will take notice of the date and imagine that specific period of time.
I will ask myself, "What was I doing then?"

The nostalgic feeling is even stronger when I come across with my own old writings.
It's very personal.
The moment I see my style of handwriting, I would be able to decipher, in a heartbeat, my emotional state at that time it was written.

Not that neat handwriting means good.
Nor messy handwriting means bad.

It was the way I had slanted my words, how I curled my 'Y's and 'G's, how much gap I had left in between my words, how big I had circled my'A's and 'O's and how hard I had pressed my words.
My handwritings had scripted my mood very accurately during the time it was written, as clear as crystal.
They expressed my feelings better than any words I could have used.
That's why it's important for me to WRITE my journals the good old fashioned way.
=)

I've always admired diplomatic people.
They always know
-what to say,
-how to say it,
-who to say it to,
-when to say it
without much effort yet can cause impact to the situation.
Such influence!

My colleague and I made a mistake of eating at the most inappropriate place.
We had mistaken that it'd be alright because it's lunch time.
In retrospect, I'm now shaking my head wondering how could we be so foolish.

The Head of Department was appalled to see us but didn't show the slightest bit of anger. He had to position to tell us off but didn't, instead he said,
"We have a very nice pantry just inside. Come, let me take you."
He did and continued, "Here, you can make coffee and tea, much more comfortable compared to where you were sitting."
I was so embarrassed! I'm still smacking myself for being so thoughtless!
But the Head was so cheerful, smiling at every word.
It didn't even feel like a reprimand though I darn well deserved it.

W-O-W
Talk about having diplomacy skills......

excerpts from http://stage-v2.wtopnews.com

Alwan is among a growing number of young Iraqis who have turned to competitive sports to learn to live with the physical scars and emotional trauma of the 2003 U.S.-led invasion and sectarian bloodshed it unleashed. It's not easy in a country still suffering from daily violence, and limited help for handicapped people. Alwan and others like her are determined to persevere.

I'm rereading this word again and again.
DETERMINED TO PERSEVERE

Ever since I saw this poster at the cake shop opposite my workplace, I've planted a glutton ambition to utilise this promotion during my break at 4pm.
After 2 months, that glutton ambition became impatient and I went in yesterday.

The environment is very comfortable compared to the other hot stuffy eateries that I usually go.

(1) I sat.
(2) I sipped the coffee.
(3) I nibbled a bit of the cake.
(4) I looked outside.
(5) I scanned through the magazines.
(6) I eavesdropped on the gossiping young students next table .
(7)-I repeated steps (2) till (6) until it was time to go back to work.

On the scale of 10, I give this activity 6 points =)

Kudos to counsellor who recommended me to intentionally include enjoyable activities in my daily/weekly/monthly life

I know a blogger who went through the darkness almost similar to mine.
Therefore, I truly can understand why he created a whole new blog.
He explained, "Most of my writing back then was when I was going through a bad patch in my life, I've moved on from that patch."

I choose to keep this blog even though there are many many entries written when I wasn't well. Many of them don't reflect who I truly am.
Chills are sent down my spine each time I reread them.

Yet, I'm choosing to keep them to remind myself that a relapse of that bad patch is highly possible.
The medical statistics have proven that the odds are against me.

I need to be very alert of that dark shadow that will be with me all my life.
Very dark indeed.

I watched the movie Eat Pray Lovealone over the weekend.

Despite the bad reviews, stating that it's a very self-absorbed narrative movie, I enthusiastically went for it anyway.
I was not disappointed.

There were many phrases which I can relate to.
As I was saying to my friend, "Perhaps only abnormal people like us can understand her despair. Normal people would just find it pathetic and just about ME ME ME".

Just as these words escaped me, I wondered.
Is there even such a thing as a normal person?
Or did we just confused that word with a successfully conformed person?

I have just bid farewell to my foreigner co-worker who is going to London for greener pastures.
I really admire his courage to take such a big step, leaving his comfort zone.
For the past few weeks, I felt his anxiety as he was facing a lot of problems with the visa application.
But he persevered and was not at all deterred with the paperwork obstacles nor the financial difficulties that he will face for the next 3 years.
He is absolutely certain of his choice of path.

Tonight, as I shook his wife's hand, she said;"We have to live by faith sometimes."

I wish I had some of that kind of faith. Afterall, my mind can't make sense out of life most of the time anyway. =/

10 Reasons You Are Rich

(taken from http://www.marcandangel.com/2008/11/03)

-You didn’t go to sleep hungry last night.

-You didn’t go to sleep outside.

-You had a choice of what clothes to wear this morning.

-You hardly broke a sweat today.

-You didn’t spend a minute in fear.

-You have access to clean drinking water.

-You have access to medical care.

-You have access to the Internet.

-You can read.

-You have the right to vote.


Wealth is the ability to fully experience life.
- Henry David Thoreau

Malaysian inmate Jasotha Thureisingam dancing in a circus, inspired by Cirque du Soleil, as her fellow inmates look on at the Santa Monica Prison for women in Lima, Peru.

photo by oneclick.indiatimes.com

This picture was featured in the local daily.
I was very captivated by this picture and the story behind it.
I tell myself, this is really something worth taking example of.

Despite the sorrow and hopelessness that surround them, they still manage to somehow find the strength and reasons to celebrate.

Part Two.

My friend’s condition wasn’t as bad as I had feared.
We chatted and laughed.
We even made effort to chat with other patients, though they were futile attempts as most of them weren’t lucid.
As I stayed on with her, I began to share my own experience at the ward with her.
I’m glad I did, because I thought I had forgotten most of it.
I was surprised that I could remember so many colourful characters whom I got to know in that ward. Despite the circumstances, I did have some good memories there.

Unlike the present situation, I remember the place to be very lively, especially the common area where the male and female patients interacted.
We had cardgames, boardgames, and people chatting non-stop!
I remember sharing a lot of laughter there

During my 3 hours visit, I related at least 10 patients’ stories to my friend.
I candidly told her about their brief background stories or the stories about my encounter with them.
It wasn’t dark at all, but entertaining.

Or perhaps I dare describe the stories as entertaining, knowing that it’s all in the past now.

When I heard that one of my friends from the support group was admitted to the hospital, I had the immediate intention of visiting her. However, I did get a bit nervous as it was the same hospital that I was in five years ago.
Even as I entered the parking area, I felt all the bad memories gushing to my head.
I began to recall the anxiety and emotional turmoil which I had during my last few visits.
My mind must have been quite a mess back then because I can’t recall how to get to the ward. My confused face was rather conspicuous that a doctor even stopped his stride and asked me where I wanted to go.

I hesitated and stammered, “Psychiatry”
As I was reaching the ward, the nerves got even more agitated as nothing looked familiar at all.
Indeed, I was very ill back then.
I found my friend and I was very much relieved.
Then, good memories began to pour in.


-end of part one

Today, I chatted with my colleague about our bad parking experiences.
When I first started driving, I always thought that the car nearest to the available parking space is the one rightful to it.
However, these days, that rule is no longer observed in busy car park areas.
The rule now simply is, 'Who can squeeze into the space first'.
And if you're not happy with it, you'd have to confront your opposing driver.
With that sort of driver who doesn't observe the former rule, you can expect an unpleasant confrontation.
Therefore, most of us would just curse our bad luck and drive away.
Thus, the new rule is enforced.
--Car parks prioritises the road bullies--

But this one incident really caused me to type this blog entry.
My car was blocked by a double-parked car.
The car didn't leave his immediate contact number on the dashboard and had left me waiting at my car for 40mins despite numerous horn blasting attempts.
I was very relieved when the owner of the car next to me came to take something from her car.
With great joy and hope, I asked if she could just move her car just momentarily to give way for me.

Her answer shocked me.
"What if I lose this parking space?"
I explained that she can reverse her car towards to traffic flow, which will guarantee her parking space from being taken away.
She gave it a 5 seconds thought.
"Er, no lar. You just wait for a few minutes lar. Office hours ends in a few minutes, that driver will come soon."
She left me dumbfounded.

I could have been more persuasive, but I was too shocked that a person can be that selfish.
Office hours ends in MORE than an hour's time!
I was too shocked to say anything to her and just watched her walk away in hurry.
The double-parked driver came after an hour's time waiting, but it was that lady who perturbed me more.
I kept trying to play in my head.
Am I overreacting for being offended?
Perhaps it is the norm practice these days?
Sigh....
What is civilisation when courtesy is no longer observed?

You can easily judge the character of a man by how he treats those who can do nothing for him. ~James D. Miles

I'm a very sensitive person.
Although I wish I could "de-sensitise" myself a few notch lower, it seems to be a stubborn nature leech to my senses.

Therefore, whenever shit happens, eg -dealing with rude, unreasonable, self-centred people; I get very affected.

But I still do try to rationalise the situation to myself in order to be a 'better' person. Perhaps my EQ can still be nurtured?

I'm now trying to refrain myself from repeating the incidents to my colleagues, or friends. Whenever I do, I have to reenact the whole scene for their better understanding. Me, being a natural dramatist,would role play the 'villain'.
Usually, I can reenact out the role well because I was very angry,annoyed and felt that I was unfairly treated.
I would repeat every absurd word they said, every rude facial expression, and even highlight their enunciation of their abusive words.
It is at this point where I'd feel I have sinked to their level.

I have allowed the 'negativity' to further flourish, giving more attention than it deserved.
Thus, I'm going to learn to ....LET IT GO...BE THE BIGGER PERSON

My friend was confiding in me.
Her issue was quite a difficult one to solve.
I could only offer a listening ear.

After awhile of awkward silence,
I said, "Wow, if Yasmin Ahmad* were to be alive, she just might turn your story into a film".
We both laughed.

##############################
*famous Malaysian director

A very special friend (I use the word special because we met at the most unusual circumstances) commented that my blog template looks too depressing.

Given the fact that he actually 'reads' my blog makes his comments substantial weight of influence.

Plus, I'm giving all the therapeutic suggestions a try, so I'm going to give all colors a go.

Afterall, there's no such thing as wrong colors in life.

I watched ECHOES OF THE RAINBOW - cantonese movie last night.
Sandra Ng's motherly character kept saying, "Chou Yan, Chong Yu Sun"

"TO LIVE, YOU MUST BELIEVE".
During the darkest hour, she held on to this belief to fight off the despair that was mounting on her family.

Tragedy after another, she still kept repeating the quote like a mantra.

There was simply no other belief she could choose.