The Author

Where do I begin?

As Mel Brooks said, “Every human being has hundreds of separate people living under his skin. The talent of a writer is his ability to give them their separate names, identities, personalities and have them relate to other characters living with him.”

I sometimes feel that way about myself.

If I'm being honest here, I should probably confess that attempting to describe my complicated and intricate self, in detail, to the world is as awkward as a stranger walking right up to someone he/she barely knows and yelling sentences that begin with, "I am..." Then when everything has been said, he/she apologizes and explains that he/she might have gotten you mixed-up with someone else.

I was a few chapters in Eat Pray Love when I stumbled upon a rather captivating chapter. The chapter where Liz's friend, Giulio, explains to her that every city has a single word to describe it. "What's Rome's word?", she asked. And he announced, "SEX". Over at the Vatican, the word is POWER. In NYC, it's ACHIEVE. And in Naples, the word is FIGHT. Just like every city/place, I, too have a word of my own. I've spent many sleepless nights have tossing and turning in bed, trying to figure out what my word is, and I've come up with three that describes me best: Indecisive, Erratic and Untamed. If I had to choose either one, I'd go with Untamed as it pretty much sums up, for the lack of a better explanation, "me".

Hence, the title of my blog - Of an untamed heart. 

If there's a place I can call home, it would sure be none other than Malaysia for it is where I was born and raised. But sometimes, when it comes down to the laws, politics, government and freedom (if there is any) of this country, I'd hands-down prefer to be an American than a Malaysian. And sometimes, I'm convinced that I am more American than Malaysia. Everything about America enthralls me. Be it their culture, the music industry, or lifestyle - everything!

For someone who grew up in a Christian family with two loving godsend parents, my beliefs are probably in black and white. I gave my life to Jesus Christ when I was old enough to decide for myself. And I did. Throughout my life, putting my trust and faith in Him has been a path guided by guardian angels. He's the wind beneath my wings and my pillar of strength; He's the fire in my heart and the wind in my sails.

By first glace, I've been pegged by others as 'someone who doesn't have a care in the world', 'someone who knows what she wants and goes after it'. They said they could tell by my body language, the way I walk, my posture. And my usual reply to them would be, "I see. Gee, thanks!" - realizing that I've never thought of myself that way before or in a long time. Then, there are also times when I've been told that my emotions are written all over my face, for the whole world to read. I could lie but they'd catch me red-handed.

Mysterious, with unreadable emotions, would be more like it. Sometimes, just sometimes.

I'm fashion-forward but don't really depend on the season-changing fashion trends to define myself. I wear what I want and when I feel like it. My fashion sense can't be defined by a specific style as it's a mixture. I adore cropped jackets and leather-studded beauties, suave ankle boots and stilettos, gowns and cute sundresses, printed and graphic tees, tank tops and mini skirts...and most of all, a trusty pair of skinny jeans would be one of my essential must-haves. Would you blame me?  After all, the way you dress of ten portrays the person you truly are.

As for someone who grew up with a father who works in an airline and ever so often travels the world, it is clear to say that my love for traveling and adventure has been planted within me by none other than the man himself; Daddy. I was fortunate enough to tag along on his flights at such a young age, seeing and exploring different environments and surroundings. To name a few, I've traveled to:  Rome, Austria, Dubai, Los Angeles, Australia. And hopefully soon, the whole of Europe - it's apart of my Bucket List.

Along the lines of coming to terms with the fact that I'm no more a high school-er and would soon be furthering my studies, I've done a lot of thinking about my future plans. So with all that thinking and contemplating done, I've made up my mind about what I want to do. I'd be venturing into the field of Law but just the foundation of it. And when I'm done with that, Mass Communication, here I come! All I know is, I've lifted it up into the hands of God and just like a sheep to it's master, I'll follow wherever he leads.

I suppose if I were to pick one consistent all the different and conflicting parts of me have in common, it would have to be my writing and singing. Of all the things that have interested me at some point in my life, these two have always been a constant. I guess you can say that these two are like my very own Safe Haven; the refuge I run to in times of confusion and sorrow, when I feel like the world has turned against me.

There is this indescribable connection I feel towards singing and writing that washes over me a sense of peace and wholesomeness when I engage in doing them. The butterflies-in-stomach feeling can be well-described by the way a friend of mine describes her own relationship with writing. She pointed out, "There is something about the written word that captivates me - something about the way something as simple and easily manipulated as the order of letters in a word, words in a sentence, and sentences on a page can be so powerful as to begin wars, bring kings and rulers to their knees, crush hopes, spark flames, build empires, stir hope, ignite belief, convey ideas, bring change."

I remember how young I was when I first started singing; how I'd relentlessly continue singing even when the lyrics had been long forgotten, even when I had a soar throat. I also remember when I first started writing stories in primary school; in the absence of well-constructed sentences and excellent usage of grammar. Even though I didn't have a clue of what I was getting myself into, I have never stopped since then. And I'm glad I didn't.

P.S - If you've been reading my blog for a long time, I thank you for engaging yourself in what I write and for watching me grow throughout the years. If you've somehow just stumbled upon my little nook in this blogsphere, I welcome you in indulging in every glimpse of the written word. For it is a form of expression, the colours that of which is used to paint onto an empty canvas to bring it life and emotion.

I write because life is too short for things to be left unsaid. 

It is necessary to write, if the days are not to slip emptily by.  How else, indeed, to clap the net over the butterfly of the moment?  For the moment passes, it is forgotten; the mood is gone; life itself is gone.  That is where the writer scores over his fellows:  he catches the changes of his mind on the hop.  ~Vita Sackville-West

The act of putting pen to paper encourages pause for thought, this in turn makes us think more deeply about life, which helps us regain our equilibrium.  ~Norbet Platt

Love always, 

Kristen Alyssa.