He: Why are you so stubborn?

Me: Because I refuse. I don't want.

5 minutes later,

He: Why are you so stubborn?

Me: Because I refuse. I don't want.

*************************************************

I really don't want to do it. Hence, I rejected his well-meaning and very practical suggested solution. Because I have a better idea, which he thinks is silly, which I think is all right because I place absolute faith and trust in another friend. But it's just hogwash to him, since he feels I should adopt a more sensible approach.

But I am, I am. It all makes so much sense. I believe in my friend and my friend will help and is able to too. I feel safe because the person helping is my friend instead of some stranger professional.

Why am I so stubborn? Are you saying I'm stubborn because I am not heeding you? I'm not persuaded by your line of reasoning, I just don't buy it.

But yes, if that's stubbornness for you, pls remember that I am stubborn. Some things I don't want to do, you can't make me, never. It's a useful thing about me to know.

Do you seriously want me to listen to you ?

Am I being extra stubborn simply because it's you?

Anyway in this case, I'm right, okay. My friends will never let me down.

207 How happy is the blameless vestal's lot!
208 The world forgetting, by the world forgot.
209 Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!

I din like the movie as much I'd imagine I would have (it was the same thing with Jeux D'enfants, left the theatre feeling slightly lost and disappointed, somehow). I would have written the script (dialogue) quite differently based on the same premise and basic plot outline. Still, I can project on to a couple of scenes and exchanges. That could have been me. Us. I'm glad we din watch the movie together. Yes, he would have hated it, like he did for Love Me If You Dare, but for reasons different from mine. He thinks it's unrealistic *rolls eyes* and I think it's only too real for comfort. Still, the most assuring and yet made me uncomfortable too aspect of it after watching the When-Jim-Meets-Kate movie is how we can and will fall in love all over again with the same person even if we did erase The One from the memory.

Being the obligatory Lit Hons grad, it would be unbecoming to ignore the poem that led to the film being named such. The awfully long Eloisa to Abelard, written by Alexander Pope who had always written long, long stuff (and whom I have never bothered to study) is, well, long. There are some nice lines (there has to be what, hello, got 366 lines to choose from) but I'm visibly unimpressed.

But I'm rather regretting my stubbornness to not-watch Kill Bill, both 1 & 2. I just refused to. Today, I stumbled on a brillant extract from the movie 2:

Bill: Now... When it comes to you - and us - I have a few unanswered questions. So, before this tale of bloody revenge reaches its climax, I'm going to ask you some questions, and you're going to tell me the truth. However, therein lies a dilemma. Because, when it comes to the subject of me, I believe you are truly and utterly incapable of telling the truth, especially to me, and least of all, to yourself. And, when it comes to the subject of me, I am truly and utterly incapable of believing anything you say.

This is brilliant. This is so me in writing and in real life. THIS IS. THE STORY OF MY RELATIONSHIP (IN MY HEAD).

Cont:

The Bride: How do you suppose we solve this dilemma?

Bill: Well, it just so happens I have a solution.

Can anyone lend me their copies of the movies or just tell me what is the bloody solution to such a mess!

那时候 听《爱如潮水》
想象着万一我们不是一对
以后谁会在深夜里孤独的买醉
这一晚 我一个人睡
防备着那于是无补的伤悲
还有很多工作 只能面对 不能憔悴

我为我的坚强而骄傲
却为这段情 感到惭愧
我只能够承认失去了你 都无所谓

我听的歌 爱的人 说的话
是不是美丽的误会
我不能为你 不顾一切的崩溃
除非这样子能保证把你挽回

我牵的手 伤的心 流的泪
是不是浪漫的误会
是爱的太伤 还是伤的太美
难道你还不会让我的心醉
(在爱情的面前我宁愿卑微)

这一晚 听《爱如潮水》
数算着为感情而吃过的亏
彷佛的麻木是不是我学到的智能
有时候 我们都很累
还以为分手之后就有机会
让我们说后悔 为了失恋 为所欲为

I’m angry. Very angry. Which is of course, an excellent thing. It means I don’t care anymore and urgh, I’m so fucking, fucking pissed that I…*snarls*

Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you (Which is something I won’t do if someone holds a freaking gun to my head).

I have deleted the last shameful post in utter disgust. Gross. Yuck. Fuck you. Fuck YOU.

You think it’s very easy for me to ask you to watch a movie issit? Do you know I had to think and think and think, and hit send button on my mobile quickly before I chicken out and erase the sms altogether?

And I certainly don’t ask you to watch a movie all the time. At most twice a year. And you couldn’t watch with me simply the plot din appeal to you. Oh really. Or, is it because you will be watching with ME? Well, fuck you.

When did I ever question your bloody plans? Why must I be nice and politely enthusiastic and pleasantly obliging towards you when we can’t even watch a movie together?

I’m tired of doing all these senseless things that make me walk till I’m hot and bothered, till my feet hurt, till my brain aches, till I write furiously and indignantly, till I choke with impossible disgust at myself and the state of things.

Why should I bother with going along with you and going out with you if you are incapable of being agreeable? It’s only a movie!!!! You really blow it this time you know. Fuck you. Fuck you.

Lanjiao. Cheebye. FUCK YOU.

Addendum: Despite the fumes and smoke and all things black and choking that could have obscured my good sense, I managed to maintain my fair intelligence and feminist judgement rather well, I think. Did anyone notice my deliberate use of the MALE PRIVATE PART first, followed by the female? I think it's wrong to spew the female private part at will, which is like all the time, amongst male Hokkien speakers whenever they are unhappy about something. So I must say the male part. Lanjiao. There you go. Feminist linguistic triumph over womanly lover-in-defeat.

Ways To Not Think About Him And Lead A Celibate Life Of Normalcy Without Him (Without Letting Him Know And In Spite Of His Very Likely Not-Knowing)

Otherwise titled as How To Spite Oneself To Death

*Surround myself with dear friends like Ruth, Chinyi, April and Grace.
*Watch plays like Ba Wang Bie Ji (with Ruth, so 30th May is bound to be a I'm-not-thinking-of-him success, most of the time).
*Go KTV, like today's with Sherry.
*A natural extension of the fore-mentioned point - wait for Kaile to be back from Thailand to go KTV.
*Going out with people I haven't seen for a long time who were once dear and still are, like Peiyun, Grace, Chyi, Xin and maybe Jiahui, offhand.
*Lunches with yet another Grace, Chwen, and Jude (whom I still owed one lunch 'coz he insisted on paying for the last meal we had).
*Consider going out with J and T etc etc respectively, without believing it is tedious
and possibly boring by reminding myself I have to lead an exciting and exuberant life and give people a chance to entertain me. That they-are-not-him shouldn't be held against them.
*Throw myself into work. Which shouldn't be too difficult. Anyway, the actors doing my new event are really eye candy. So, pleasure is mine. And there's new job responsibilities.
*Give myself a little pat everytime I see him online (like now, like all the time) and I ignore him pointedly.


*Write my novels. I don't need an answer now. Have too much material to work on as it is.

I was sitting in MP Mos today and I felt someone's eyes on me. Looked up and hey, a familiar, very tall, rather cool but exceptionally 随便-ly dressed (for once at least, in a tee and shorts that's at least two sizes too small and short for his attractive frame) person was in view, armed with a very big x100 plastic bag containing many small x1000 packs of chips from Marks and Spenser. I don't know what to say, so I blurted out the first thing that came to mind: What are you doooooing hereeeee? *complete with progressively rising pitch*

As he pointed out correctly, immediately after my impulsive outburst, it wasn't a very greeting-like greeting. But he went to the counter to grab the new seafood burger and thereafter, returned to where my friend and I were sitting, and inquired politely if he could crash for a while.

So er, okay, whatever. I introduced my friend and there was a pause. Then I said very patiently: Oi, you supposed to introduce yourself.

He said he thought I was to do all the introducing (Was it even necessary? Do we care? I rolled my eyes internally). Can also. Let's do it in a fun and funny manner.

Okay, so, this is XX. XX is my friend from hons; or more precisely, we were friends, and I used to be his friend, then he stopped contacting me altogether. *smiles*

XX was of course seriously (I think so rightly) quite aghast (mostly coz he's a super private person and partly coz I believe he doesn't know me well enough to remember that's my mode of speaking when I run out of things to say and still do my best to contribute interestingly to fulfil my social role in life). He asked if it's necessary to introduce him in such a manner ie as the guy who stopped contacting me and ended his indignation by saying I have issues.

80% still teasing, 20% out of curiosity, I retorted that I don't have issues. I'm just stating facts and I challenged him to disagree, and without waiting for a reply, I pretended he's not there and whispered loudly to my friend: You know, some people have neither a sense of humour nor a sense of irony, and to think they are to teach Lit *roll eyes dramatically*

20% out of curiosity coz I never comprehend why this person bothered to ask me out {you don't know how cool and distant-friendly I can act around people I like if I feel uncomfortable about showing my affections too soon if I don't know how they feel towards me}in the first place on a one-to-one basis quite a few times, would call to talk and sms me, and suddenly, when I had believed he would stay a more permanent friend, he just, well basically stopped contacting me altogether. No calls, no sms-es, no dates, nada nothing. I initiated once (maybe twice) some sms-es but he sounded not as friendly as he was, so I let it pass and floated away.

The only thing that I could interpret as spoiling *this* was the last time when he initiated something and somehow, a mutual friend tagged along. The thing is, I din invite our mutual friend...and he had stated explicitly that he would prefer it to be just us (when I checked if he wanted to jio anyone else along) so I don't understand why there's the friend popping out of nowhere...anyway, we never met nor talk on phone eversince then...which is...odd.

But bygones. It's not important, unless you throw in how I would like a male good-looker to accompany me to social functions and to go on casual dates (dining and movies)with no strings attached now and then. Make that many male good-lookers so that ppl I bump into won't have the wrong idea... Anyhow, I'm dreadfully tired of guessing and pre-empting, should the feeling be thankfully mutual or 一厢情愿 on his end. I just want things to stay the way they are once we have agreed on what state things are and should be in.

Anyway, his friend came over and took him away shortly after.

If I had come across this earlier, say 9 months ago, I would have told He-Who-Asked-Have-You-Ever-Liked-Me at the most inappropriate circumstances imaginable (and thereby stunning me into a stunning silence) with dignity and aplomb (and rolling eyes): You are my intellectual whore. After (failing) which we would both have a quiet, thankful laugh and friendship would prevail over embarrassment and awkwardness. Admitting that one is a substitute and to add further partially out of spite and indignation that one is not a very good one either after being inevitably led to conclude that as the only way to exit can't be very helpful.

Still, the intellectual whore can be seen as a substitute, although substitutes are not intellectual whores since the latter refers to guys that I, based on the theory, would not have sex with. So correction, I guess it would have been less off-tangent to qualify the person as I.W. Would keep this in mind should paths cross again.

Intellectual whores refer to males. But can there be a female version of the intellectual whore? ie friends to the guy only without sex or sexual desire coming into chaotic play? Only applicable in 3 cases apparently:

(1)The guy is gay
(2)The guy does not find you attractive.
(3)The guy already has a woman much higher than you on the ladder

Which is interesting if we could discuss meaningfully and *honestly* with male friends the validity of the theory hor. Got volunteers??

Anyway, I started wondering if I could be the female version of the I.W to You-Know-Who. Preposterous! The very idea of it! Not that I'm great (even if I am) but seriously, we don't talk that much, have zilch in common mainly etc etc. Bearing in mind a useful and pretty scuccinct (okay lar) definition of I.W is:

person A is an intellectual whore to person B if person A wants to shag person B and person B will not shag person A but keeps person A around for entertainment, emotional support etc...

OBVIOUSLY I HAVE NO GOOD IDEA WHY HE IS KEEPING ME AROUND. So I can't be the female I.W to him because there is no indication what I'm good at all for in his eyes if not for, you know, that. It's clear the gentleman has no need of me as an emotional crutch (he has never talked about other women, or men), lunching/dining buddy whatsoever, and therefore confusing since I have no real status, not even that of an I.W.

(Maybe he is really gay. But as mutual friends have wrung hands in exasperations, it has been pointed out in all fairness, he's as gay as I'm les. Oh well. More confusion then. If he's straight, if I'm not I.W to him, what is me????)

But he is sometimes here because I don't know if there's anyone else. And he's okay as a friend, just odd in his behaviour, like everything.

So basically, the thesis argues that there can be no real friendship between the opposite sexes. Which, for people who have heard me expounding on my guys-and-girls-can-never-be-just-friends theory, would read some similarities.

Quite fun reading for A-DAY-IN-WHICH-NOTHING-HAPPENS.

Sally: We are just going to be friends, OK?
Harry: Great, friends. It's the best thing...You realize, of course, that we can never be friends.
Sally: Why not?
Harry: What I'm saying is - and this is not a come-on in any way, shape, or form - is that men and women can't be friends, because the sex part always gets in the way.
Sally: That's not true. I have a number of men friends and there is no sex involved.
Harry: No, you don't.
Sally: Yes, I do.
Harry: No, you don't.
Sally: Yes, I do.
Harry: You only think you do.
Sally: You're saying I'm having sex with these men without my knowledge?
Harry: No, what I'm saying is they all want to have sex with you.
Sally: They do not.
Harry: Do too.
Sally: They do not.
Harry: Do too.
Sally: How do you know?
Harry: Because no man can be friends with a woman that he finds attractive. He always wants to have sex with her.
Sally: So you're saying that a man can be friends with a woman he finds unattractive.
Harry: No, you pretty much want to nail them, too.
Sally: What if they don't want to have sex with you?
Harry: Doesn't matter, because the sex thing is already out there, so the friendship is ultimately doomed, and that is the end of the story.

I read a really beautiful love letter from a gay man to his beloved. I have had letters, but nothing quite as moving.

From a detached literary standpoint, I appreciate the style and aptly chosen words. It was sincere; it was excellently written; it was serious. There was no double entendre, no Singlish to play up the humour so that the embarrassment can be played down to minimise fears and insecurities of rejection, as always happens when we struggle to pen something ambiguously and importantly for someone to understand the badly concealed desires.

The letter in question was sophisticated (think Mr Darcy’s style) and quietly passionate; metaphors were used in a non-cliched manner and reading it just makes me sigh in wanton wanting.

Then again, like how open admission to an intense liking for another has become politically incorrect, it has become uncool to praise too lavishly even if you think you may mean it. So, the love letter is just okay, really. The minus is that it’s typed.

The only thing I get to flaunt over this are letters I received from someone who has beautiful handwriting, and who can write neatly on plain paper without lines as if the paper has lines. But can that suffice greedy me?

I want a serious letter that tells of how much he misses and desires. No Singlish, please. Write it like you mean it. Choice words and poignant selections that tell of your quietly contemplative love in manly despair and desperation. I am grateful that miniscule me can make you feel in so many ways. And inspire you to write more carefully and beautifully, literally and figuratively: no blots, heavy white paper, and writing that curves and curls most artistically.

But this is all in jest. Have to convince myself of this. Few can write and make me happy in this particularly literary way. Actually, none.

But I CAN. I can write love letters (ie my novels and poetry) rwell and good. Just that only my readers get to read, Never the person they were meant for.

Addendum:

Floating fragments of conversations return to mind as I reread (and rewrote sketchy drafts into something more whole and wholesome). I clean forgot completely them. They come in useful when I attempt to contextualise and assess the situation but it's not so important lately.

"Will do anything so long as she wants..."

"Why...?"

"So that she'll understand how much I care...even if I have never said anything about it."

"Please, then she'll never understand, or know."

"She will, she will..."

"How come you dun worry people will start hanging out with others if you don't spend time together. How come you never make time.

"It's okay, you know. I can win back by trying harder after I'm done with my business."

"You do know you make people very angry hor with your way of handling things. Next time your girlfriend or wife sure run away very frequently because you upset people so easily."

"Then I'll put in a lot of effort to woo her back everytime, kneel or something. Like that then fun mah."

These bits are at least two years old. So maybe someone has outgrown such beliefs, or forgot, like I did. But tonight, I remember, and it's not comforting or assuring, I guess.

亲爱的，念念有词和念念不忘实在很难区分。这样的写着、写着，我又能够

证明什么。把你夹在书页的字里行间，让有词与不忘马不停蹄地持续繁殖，直到我

虚脱崩溃瓦解为止，我还能有什么企图。夹住等于拥有吗，勉为其难，也许吧。又

可能，你已成了一段让我感到羞耻的过去。如今，我用文字遮掩不堪回首。那股要

公诸于世的冲动早不在，我只想说服自己我没真正喜欢你。


有没有一种既风花雪月亦脚踏实地的交往，让人能把性情挥洒得既理直气壮

亦心安理得，毋需终日提心吊胆，害怕百密更有一疏，一切终究曲终人散，就象现

在一样。


原来，不是爱情，也可以到得了这么远的地方。

洪筱薇©
15th May 2004
All rights reserved

On Monday, I did everything that I was supposed to do for the past two weeks that I couldn't because of a still ongoing event that puts an effective stop to my social life because I get home at 11plus nightly, including weekends. That means no shopping, no dinners, no drinks, no KTV, no companions to mock existence and moan life. I can't anyway, coz I'm too drained by the end of it. But the boss was kind to give me a day-off as Monday is a no-show day. So a free day for me and I report to work at 10am on Tue.

I was quite overwhelmed by gratitude.

It was a good day. I scribbled till late morning (I have been cursed with the ability to open eyes promptly between 7-8am, no matter how late I sleep), and I get the exhilarating feeling that my novel is going somewhere. It's a three parter ie three novels actually but each can be read on its own, and the first one is close to being closed (I just have to type from my handwritten drafts, I'm relatively pleased at the shape it's taking on, for now, at the moment, at least). The second is written in spurts and so is the third (amazing huh, I'm writing all concurrently!!!! Up in flames! Genius is burning!!!). Mostly coz I have no idea how to end as of yet and so many interesting things just happen that I'm like, whatever, I will write till I'm tired and store the rest of you in my drafts till I'm ready to work on us again.

Then I went out with my sister (yes, of coz, my dear sister!! Who else wld be free on a Monday at 10 min's notice? :) and I'm very pleased to have bought 3 pretty tops. Also brought my sis to nice restaurants so that she won't be the HDB bumpkin I was at her age. Unfortunately, I had to pay for both of us. So that was less great.

Then, then, the brilliant highpoint was the impromptu decision to go KTV when we sauntered past the Suntec KBox. This was totally not on the agenda, but happened coz we were suckers for discounts (which is a remarkable irony given the money I have already blown *shudders*) and we need only pay for 1 drink and the requisite tidbits each and we can sing from 7pm till the place closes down at 3am. Because of these, and also coz I only need to report at 10am the following morn, we, decided to go for it.

Did I ever say I'm a great singer? Well, you probably know already. And I remember blogging a narcissistic piece on KTV-ing with Shimin in late Jan. NICE. I mean, that it was nice to be singing again. GREAT(And I'm downplaying even with this). That refers to my voice and singing style.

So we lalalalalala-ed all the way till midnight. After which, we rightly topped up the very fulfilling day with a ride home in a cab.

Cheap (actually, it's free) thrill for the night:

While fronting the event, I had the most brief and smallest, small talk with a reporter (N had helped us to write a long article in an influential entertainment mag. Ah, connections, but then we are all one happy family, see), which mainly consists of me conjoling N to buy the souvenir program (part of the job).

Her companion, a total male stranger, whom I just sized up in a glance before concentrating on N handing me the $ before she slipped into the theatre, suddenly sprouted the classic lines:

You look very familiar. Really. Have I seen you from somewhere before?

I replied firmly, no. I really don't think so. I have never seen the person before, oh, t'is true.

He: But I know you from somewhere. I'm very sure. What's your name?

Me: Angeline. I'm sure it doesn't ring a bell huh.

With that, I passed N her change, and N hurried into the theatre with companion.

Hmmm, what's his relationship with N; do I know the guy even; and why does he insist he knows me???

I know, boliao. Free thrill wat. SomemoreI bored mah. Tired. But bored. I wish something exciting can happen.

*
In other news,

Pls contact me if you are very male, standing at 1.8m, got veins and are at least relatively attractive and find me charming and endearing. I'm looking for a guy for social purposes (that is, escorting me to functions that I wld rather bring a male than female or when I preferred seeing a male face on that particular day). We are to at least genuinely enjoy each other's company and it's your duty to cheer me up and dispel all thoughts of another, without thinking I would like you in that way. I'm looking for someone I'm attracted to and vice versa but love is not mandatory. It's a super bonus if it comes but right now I'll be happy just hanging out with you, no strings attached (but you are welcome to like me, just dun expect me to, even though I'm not saying I can never). We just go out when I need to psychologically spite someone.

Spread the word. I'm gonna spread my eggs.

Even when I’m occupied with whatever, this whatever should ideally be intensely burning up all of my time so that I can’t break for a reverie and return to thinking most viciously and unwillingly of a person.

I have thought of talking about this with him. See, theoretically, if we are absolutely certain we will be maintaining our current status quo for damn damn sure and that’s it, I’m cool. Then I can move on and stop the meta-guessing whether it’s a matter of time before we reach the obvious, that we are prolonging the inevitable and if our non-progression is due to his inability to read what-I-think-I-are-rather-encouraging signals from me (or my insistence that his gestures are not enough and hence, my stopping to interpret them seriously altogether, resulting in a take-for-grantedness).

If we are never going to move into that direction, then I’m free to think about other important things and stop boring friends with regally ridiculous tales and ceased being bored by them in return ‘coz that the only miniscule cell of issue that can sustain my interest. Sigh. So, I don’t see what’s so bad or the big deal about talking over this. It’ll do a world of good for me.

If we like each other and then, er, okay. Okay, because, it’s scary too, I suppose. What happens after that? No, I like you but we can not be, such I may imagine. But if yes, I like you full stop, with no buts, no if-onlys, no anything to break the enchantment of I like you, what happens?

But of course, I won’t say. I’ll die first before I’m 100m near the topic.

Anyway, on Monday, I got The Very Expensive Tickets to watch Andrea Bocelli 2004 Live Tour in Singapore at a whooping $300 per slip of paper. I was lucky enough to be given a pair. I can’t help but think of watching with him even though it’s obviously not his cup of tea, so I asked anyway. We had a nice, cute chat but he’s meeting a group of friends already that night, plus it’s really too chi chi for him (call me to watch getai, lah) so as expected, he no-ed me.

After which, it din quite matter who was watching with me. Plus since it was a last min thing, I also din have in mind anyone in particular, other than He Who Has Already Rejected Me.

So the brilliant idea was to sms a generic message to a group of ppl: the first person to reply will get to attend the Andrea Bocelli concert with me free! Ticket per $300, @Indoor Stadium tonight ( and you get tons of boliao smses that go, am I the first, am I, am I, but it’s okay ‘coz I can’t go anyway, I just want to be first).

The vaguely good and very surprising thing that came out of this nonchalance was I received a reply from someone from JC. He can’t go either but he asked how I was doing and we are to meet for dinner or something after I’m done with the series of shows next week. But he’s cute and I hope he can offer me kind distraction for a day from someone other. See, it’s mildly dangerous when I get bored or frustrated. I ended up doing things and going out with people I normally think twice about because I’m neither ready nor prepared.

In the end, Chinyi got to go with me. And the show was quite spectacular, though I find the ever-changing backdrop more distracting than aesthetically pleasing and complementing the mood of the pieces. Rich, mellow, powerful vocals and a totally in sync orchestra/conductor, plus a great soprano, still makes me wonder why ppl are crazy enough to pay so much. But it was an expensive thrill I got from attending the concert, seated amongst high society who are much older. I stuck out like a sore thumb in my pretty casual wear and, haha, extreme youth, yay!!

He said I’m fortunate to find someone with affinity for it (he doesn’t know whether my companion is male or female)

He has the first right of refusal, I told him, as a result of my trying to be nice.

Yes, first right of refusal. Except how come he has yet to refuse.

The teenage aimlessness and directionlessness of last week, alas, suddenly gone! Just as I was telling Jude that I'm quite free at the moment, I have found myself up to my eyeballs and further with work since Monday. I think I have been assigned with a big project, basically thrown into the deep end of things, but, I'm more than grateful for the wild card and I'm determined to learn and swim well. Other than the personal pet project, there are the remaining events that are ongoing and upcoming that I'll be involved in. Like the one starting tomorrow that's going to run till late end next week. I'll be at the show every night. Good-bye sleep, hello, experience and ambition.

(This is of course, an excellent thing to happen. You know what happens when I have too much time on my hands and no great career options/writing focus. Now that my energies found a new target to fuss and obsess over for now, I can leave him and he can leave my thoughts alone by their proud selves, and life will still be a lark.)

I'm expecting hiccups here and there due to me being a relatively untested entity. After all, I'm still exploring the territory and familiarising myself with the ropes of the industry. I'm bracing myself for hell breaking loose as it almost did over a trivia today but I console myself it's part of the process. I'll redeem myself, be sincerely apologetic, and show my ability to work things out. It's been a rough day today; I'm inudated with piling, piling work, fuses are short due to the build-up to the opening show but I remain grateful for everything.

*

I'm very busy at the moment, and am let down by a couple of smaller incidents during work but two things made my day:

1) A celebrity commented without context (I swear): You always so smiley one hor. I'm secretly pleased even as I attributed my smiley-ness to his being always amusing. I never thought I made a real impression. For me, it's his gesture of acceptance and acknowledgement and that's important. I wish him the best for the shows to come!

2)Left workplace much later than usual due to new commitments, and was actually, God forbid, contemplating seriously to hail a cab. Day-dreaming and strolling down the long corridor, I hear someone calling me (not wearing specs lah!)and voila, good ole Jude at the end of it. Talking as we both made our way to the mrt, I forgot completely the original intention. Hence, $ was saved and I'm cheered too by the natural, easy banter I have missed since starting work and am beginning to rediscover with colleagues I know better and trust.

Now that happiness seems ever so frail and fleeting, I treasure every fragment that reminds me to be appreciative of the kindness and beauty that surrounds me. For every small gesture, every smaller smile, I grow in strength and courage to continue my journey to wither whither where. Welcomed or otherwise, I shall persevere.

While the blog is used for cathartic and prosthetic purposes, I realise there are still a lot of things I can't put to words. Like what really happened. Partly because I feel very protective and possessive of certain memories, and to tell would somehow desecrate (and cheapen significantly) my precious treasury and rip them of the premium I place on them. Some times I do feel it's a shame that I can't convey more but to a larger extent, I feel it's all very embarassing what is done and said by all involved, and I consciously trail off and practise brutal self-censorship.

Some things are best left unsaid and unread. But I know, and I remember, and I write into little convoluted love mood pieces to commemorate everytime it happens.

I'm blogging this in the middle of a story that I have left untouched for a couple of weeks. Going back to work on it but I felt the need to blog this.

Given my frantic embarrassment and the deliberate suppressing of crucial information, I acknowledge it is difficult to help me work things out, since I always downplay intensities on both sides, even as I pretend to tell my story. So, given my friends can't grasp the situation as ideally as I like, it's forgivable :) 'coz i dun offer information freely. I forget, you know, that only I am really in the know (and naturally someone else as well) and if anyone can make a fair-as-fair-gets judgement on whether it is dead-end, profound or sado-masochistic, plain screwed and so on, it's me.

I'm in a fairly good mood since this morning, having got down to work ie writing moody love pieces. I'm rewriting something I wrote 6 years ago and it's uncanny how some emotions and experiences still stay, even as the writer has strayed and the recipient has become another. But I see the familiar erupting euphoria, uncertainty, lostness and occasional resolution to leave the situation for good.

Plagiarising myself (after my rewrite in 2004 based on the 1998 draft), some excerpts:

习惯了杞人忧天，通畅的思维恍如隔世。 我终於钻出了牛角尖，不再 把我的若有所
失寄人篱下。 人总得为自己的感情负责，别重蹈其覆辙。

在没有什么事情发生的无聊状况下，唯一能够做的是走。等，不在考虑的范内，因为
本身就不愿自动自发使任何什么刁出来。既然选择以一款疏离的姿态侧视过去，不
招惹现在和你，众计之中，走为上上策。

都去吧，我已准备离开了。决裂之间，在那稀薄得几乎隐形的缝隙里求存的是什么，
我已没精力理会。反正算是伤口的伤口马上就会愈合，仿佛此事从未发生过。若有
寄生物不知好歹的残留着，就让它疯死、封死在里头。我早厌恶顾他人的感受，包
括自己的感情在内。流连忘返也总该选选地方，看看人。别浪费那股暖流在匪夷所
思的寂静里。

I have left behind some baggage for good when I thought it would be difficult. As far as logic goes, when applied to my 2004 situation, it can be done; it needs only time, even as I note the slight discrepancies (which kinda strengthens the case why it is more difficult now). But with the backing of history, the odds are in my favour.

I wish I know someone's baggage. He gives the impression that he has never carried anything (even though he has good veins) vaguely akin to baggage (or even torch) to spill over. If he does have, it would make sense why he is doing this to me. If he doesn't have, it would make sense why he is doing this to me. Well, so I guess it doesn't matter?

Anyway, I'm really happy that the A-Bao and Brandy duo won Best Group Vocal award. I love that 城堡 song. *celebrates* Yes, it used to be my theme song ala Ally McBeal style, and it still is, now and then.

我看见了爱情的城堡覆盖一层薄雾的面纱
我跟随着好奇的步伐潜入寻找爱的玫瑰花
谎言在玄关里的油画涂满了最缤纷的情话
传说中被它迷惑的人就得丢出手中的白手帕

看浮雕像谁的拥抱在烛光里邪恶微笑
我看见墙壁上写着笨的人就请你相信爱情
爱像密室里的珍宝要对的人才找的到
谁选错的爱的通道你的心就会被关进地牢

爱是太神秘的城堡我是不听话的主角
想要偷窥爱的面貌你别想给我幻觉的圈套
爱是难攻陷的城堡我是太骄傲的大盗
赶快献上爱的美好乖乖走进我设下的怀抱

是谁在白象牙的走道保持礼貌迎接我来到
我紫色水晶的酒杯装着狩猎快乐的迷药
我穿上晚礼服的腰是他情愿服从的线条发
即使走进爱情的城堡我也要用骄傲保持我的骄傲

我要的我一定要得到你没有要不要的烦恼
准备好接受你的心在爱的城堡你已无路可逃

I shopped for 1.5hs post work on Friday at Orchard, Far East alone. I need time to think, and to focus, on getting at least two pairs of very fitting jeans which I did!! I was happy for a while, then I was just quite cheerful.

*

Heavy downpour. He said he'll get the umbrella. He's really very kind to slant the entire umbrella in my direction so that I don't get wet at all; constantly mindful of the slippery, watery areas; aware of my inclination to take small steps and pace his walk accordingly; concerned over my being a tad too close to the roads, to the speeding cars for his comfort. It floods back by-now neutral memories at least 3 years old of a time I had to be shuttled to and fro (and sheltered) under an umbrella with someone just as tall but never so thoughtful. Still, I figure very tall guys appeal to me due to this Umbrella Phenomenon. It's a very nice feeling to stand/walk in the rain with a Very Tall Guy and Umbrella in Tow. With shorter guys, take my word for it, you don't feel anything at all.

The stranger sang a theme
From someone else’s dream
The leaves began to fall
And no one spoke at all
But I can’t seem to recall
When you came along
Ingenue

Ingenue
I just don’t know what to do

I think Someone must have been treated me quite badly, or the really considerate (in all the super little things) men are not quite known to me (either that, or considerate men are always non-Singaporeans). Just take dessert for example. I was actually having fun trying to pierce my peach lookalike ice-cream and my companion gallantly inquired if he could break up the fruit on my behalf in no time. Well, no thanks, I like it this way. It's not like it's steak or whatever, but then again, I can't recall any of my other guy friends being on such good behaviour, be it steak or ice-cream, whether the inquiry itself corny or crappily old-fashioned is irrelevant. I happen to have preference for the quaint and old-fashioned gallantry.

Such a comparison always nurses a private agenda. To minus points from a certain person in question, which is not a difficult thing to do. I just dun understand how come he is never in the negative even after four years. Looking at my companion's hands as he attempts to explain why playing the guitar hurts (but you get numbed and used to it after you acquired familiarity with the pain threshold apparently), I was fascinated by my own lack of fascination with his big, artistic hands (hands and veins, woah!). But of course not. They were not his hands. If he were the one gesturing and showing me exactly where his calluses are, I will be intrigued. Possibly reaching out to feel for them only too gladly, and grateful for the brief contact. As it was, at that moment, such were the meta-thoughts running through my mind and I just only looked in resignation at The Hands, depressed over the lack of desire and the non-treacherous thoughts.

The tree-lined avenue
Begins to fade from view
Drowning past regrets
In tea and cigarettes
But I can’t seem to forget
When you came along
Ingenue

Wise, handsome Eka said Love is a commitment (and I boo-ed and poo-ed) a year ago. A year later, I extend his simple philosophy a bit further: Love is a commitment you can't help making. That's my take on Love now, or to be more precise, my take on the closest thing that I experienced that I feel should be the closest that come to Love, and I may be a long way off.

I can't help feeling a bit duh at myself when I try to move on, move away, basically just bolt from this wholly uncomfortable situation. Theoretically, I have no strings attached, I'm free. But everytime I kind of meet someone or something, an irrational feeling of guilt (ranging from mild to moody) emerges. This bizarre notion of accountability is something I have yet to figure out. Obviously, I don't have to be accountable for anything or anyone; so why the guilt (hence its unbearably irrational of being). I dun have to commit to someone who has yet to express. That would be extremely silly. But there I go. I just feel quite down sometimes after a simple night out with someone else. It's a cross between guilt of making use of a someone to fill up the gaps and guilt of the unfaithful, that I resorted to going out with another someone (when I'm too proud to demand for a date). Why am I so fidel for a person not in an exclusive relationship? It's hateful; it's humbling, and I cannot help it.

Ingenue
I just don’t know what to do

Ingenue
I just don’t know what to do

Sometimes I find it extremely difficult to go on. It’s wearying.

My feet still hurt. So does my brain but it’s used to me and my nonsense. Scepticism has seeped insidiously into my heart since I start using my brain so the heart is merely confused and distraught by the owner’s lack of staunch beliefs, apart from her staunch belief not to believe in any belief (dun apply meta-theory on this. I’ll flip).

Last night seems so far away, so surreal. Did we, the lovers that we are not, really walk barefooted along the endless wooden bridges; felt the damp, cold sand under our feet; me fidget-ly sitting and he just as restlessly squatting by the beach, taking in the loud, rough, rushing waves, articulating what we cannot admit or say? Did we really congratulate ourselves on how lucky we were to have the whole landscape to ourselves with nary a soul in sight to spoil the pleasurable, almost illicit privacy? Did we, did we, before he turned all quiet and stony?

Why does he bring me on these pseudo romantic dates and then go cold on me? Hello, I din force you okay, you planned the whole damn thing everytime!!! I’m always in the dark!! And I was on my best behaviour; I was cute; I was encouraging; I did best not to put foot in mouth and start blabbering to hide embarrassment, I did, I did, I swear. So I’m not sure why the night cease to sustain itself and he just dried up. Help? Please? I’m tired of pretending that I know and I don’t know. It’s weird we keep going out on a one to one basis again and again, in spite of our misses. And here he does all the proper date-like, boyfriend-friendly things, including the springing surprises on me and crazy ideas strewn all over the place, and we go everywhere but there. It’s depressing. Even more depressing on the sudden blogger ads on God that appear on my blog out of nowhere. I don’t blog on that. Just you know, the closest thing that comes to Love. Weird.

Slightly happier side news:

1) Kaile sms-ed me. It’s been weeks since I stopped talking to him because he overpromised and underdelivered. So he finally somehow decided to relent and msg me (yay, I win the petty war!!!!) and got off his pedestal (why took so long huh, huh. Too proud issit). And I can come down from mine gracefully. Heh. Okay. So he is accompanying me to Parco to buy a pair of slippers for my bruised feet tonight and I think, to kaypoh and be all concerned and fuss over me so that he can leave for Vietnam/Cambodia (I think) guilt-free on Sunday afternoon. Correct, right? I know you got read my blog.

2) Jude asked me out for lunch tomorrow. I honestly think he is psychic like me. I have been thinking about talking to him after my traumatic yesterday night. See, ever since Jude caught a fleeting glimpse of the man in question during an unfortunate screening of Love Me If You Dare, he has maintained (and expressed) interest, incredulity, nostalgia (he said he also like that towards his wife during the mock courtship days, just as hapless and just as anal-retentive. Basically just refusing to say anything to confirm to her lar) and impossible mirth and amusement in my relationship. And he’s always appearing kind and generous and concerned, so I do share with him when he ask. So yup, I’m glad I’m having lunch with someone who analyses, and yes, I admit, he is supportive and positive about me and the man, hence my gratefulness. Coz, my friends disapprove, in general and I get discouraged with various cold remarks. Whereas Jude is kind and generous, and dare I hope, truthful, that the horrid man is indeed horribly in love, just finding it impossibly difficult to say it at all.

I thought I would plagiarise myself. An excerpt (revised) from an email to a dear friend:

A lot of times people forget my obsessive need to analyse MY OWN SITUATION to death. And I try to control, not very well but I do what I can. BUT, you had to quite flippantly "solve" my issues. I don't need solutions so quick. I MUST ANALYSE TO DEATH FIRST. Yeah, I know it's only a blog comment but expanding upon this, even when we talk in general, i don't think you quite fill/understand my own need to obsess over my private burdens that are very huge and heavy to me.

Like I need to talk about the he who traumatises me so etc etc, and I need to obsess over why he bothers to meet me alone again and again doing stupid things. Every new date provides data to ponder and brood over darkly. J ust telling me he's weird and move on, to cut my losses is NOT, NEVER ENOUGH. That I also know. But, repeat after me, I MUST ANALYSE TO DEATH FIRST. And yes, sometimes I do think it's very unfair here I am, not dismissing your burdens and helping you to explore to death, whereas for you, you just give me less than 5 mins worth of feedback which mainly consists of telling me he's weird and I gotta move on. And even for the other guy, I dun need bashing. I need you to analyse his every gesture. That was what I needed and craved always, and especially most when I typed those two long emails to you immediately. which of course, you just bash and din...analyse. Sigh. Yup. I know it's not easy being my friend. But just remember my obsessive need to analyse and you can't go too wrong.

So it's times like this, when you and other girlfriends neglect my needs and the others who never quite fulfil it, that I truly long for that person's company again. He never stops analysing my complex relationship and complex me. He uncovers the layers and layers of complexities, so that I dun burst from thinking too much and keeping to myself too much. I'm sorry eventually he left me ‘coz he got sick of looking for me and pulling me out (he eventually concluded I just keep hiding behind layers and he would never find me) because I have never found anyone so willing, so zi4dong4 and so eager to fill my needs so adequately again. Yes, I miss my therapist. That's the real reason why I start a blog, you know. I don't think any of my best/gd friends now can fill my need to obsessively analyse. With my blog, I can type all the crazy rubbish that I do and I dun ever need to talk to ppl about it in the way I desire and be upset that they can't respond properly and adequately. The blog is my catharsis.

I don’t need advice. Not so quick, pls. Try to analyse together with me first if you wish to be helpful. I don’t want to bore you or get irritate with your reactions and responses. So I blog. Just a rain check for my other friends if they want to make me happier. Sigh. It's so easy to be depressed. If I bore you and analysing is not neither your forte nor tea, then let's do frivolous, brainless things like shopping to ease my pain and the addiction to obsessing. Quite simple, huh.

And finally, half an hour prior to meeting my friend, I concluded blithely that he has a girlfriend who is staying in Tampines and he wants us to meet. Hence, the travelling all the way from Ang Mo Kio on his end. Ah, theories, theories.

Unhappily, I was proven wrong. It wouldn't have been so bad, I like to think, had it turned out like this. I'm sick of status quo; sick of wondering if I ought to date/consider others; obsessing if this is an unspoken, exclusive, ridiculous relationship; sick of hating myself for feeling petty, boliao, insane, possessive, guilty (when I try to delete him from my life); I'm damn sick of piling crazy theories on friends ever since we decide to meet, again.

We took the bus to Changi. Turned out we are going to Changi. At first, I thought he meant Changi Village. Well, apparently, I forgot his need and ability to surprise. Okay, we ended up in Changi beach club (I think).

The bus trip was okay. We were communicating well (surprise! Communicating properly has always been a problem given his steadfast commitment to non-committal answers to the simplest of questions like, perhaps so;may be; that could be it etc etc. I know, why do I bother but there I go again...). At least, this time, he bothered to give clues and I made an effort to guess enthusiastically. It's a start lar. This reads really odd but sorries, the two of us are pathetic; it's an improvement. Then there were the usual irreverent teasing remarks like: we will walk through very dark places, you know, you know. And I roll my eyes and pretend to go "whatever."

Anyway, where we dine (the bottom right picture resembles it) was near that "hotline" birthday chalet (courtesy of my year's committee and myself) . So hmm, okay so it has a beach view, sand and waves, and horrible love songs like MLTR's Take Me To Your Heart (the English wen3 bie2 !?) and acceptable ones like The Power of Love and Making Love Out Of Nothing At All.

And it's open-air!!! Yuck. Now I don't have anything against al fresco but it was warm and I just need to be warned, and mentally prepare myself for the onslaught of heat waves. To his credit, he tried to move us to a cooler place, and one with more privacy, and asked at the end of it if I felt better. Okay. Still, lighting was harsh and unkind, and food wasn't anything to rave about.

I felt hot and sticky in my office wear. But what happened thereafter was rather unforgivable. See, I had the luxury of going off early today (from work) and it was my intention to go hme and change into shorts before seeing him. I told him that I will just go back since my place is so near and he assured me it's okay to wear what I was wearing.

So here I am, in my black top and pants and heels and the dear man, insists on walking, walking, walking after dinner. I protested feebly, part of me thinking this can't be true; he will be more understanding; probably it's just for a while. Another me went, okay, I'm asking for it, let's see where going along with it takes me.

Well, it took me a long walking distance. I got so exasperated 15 mins into the expedition that I took off my heels and walked barefooted for at least 3km on sand, on the bridges, on concrete. And I told him that he should have let me go home and change if this was what he had in mind. I'm all hot and bothered and uncomfortable. And he said very good, now you can exercise and burn calories. Okay, whatever. I can walk but i need proper shoes and shorts okay. Selfish. Horrid. It wasn't even a romantic slow walk, mind you. We walked relatively fast (upped the ouch factor for my much shorter legs and much smaller feet).

He saw me walking on naked feet and decided to do the same. Quits? Maybe.
But. Still.

He made me walk and walk. And my feet hurt quite badly now.

I was tired and hot when we took the bus back hme. But I attempted to make conversation. He was silent and gave one word replies.

Hello? Like I've been gd and accomodating, can't you at least perform till the curtain falls? Have you exhausted all your energy??? What about poor me?

I'm sick of facing your sudden stone-ness and sick, sick of your silence, sick of status quo, you hear me!!!

If you can't stop your shit and silence, let it be status quo forever!!

I can live with that. Just. Say. It. I don't want it to be an uncertain status quo. I don't want, hate, hate, hate. If we are going somewhere, then pls articulate it.

Unwittingly witty exchange of the night:

He: This is a dead end.

Me: But we are still going to walk here?

He: Yes.

Holy shit. Now, excuse me while I nurse my feet and attempt an indignant, frustrated sleep.

He will tell me he met someone else. That’s the whole purpose of us meeting tomorrow night. That’s why he’s travelling all the way down to Tampines to my territory for once. He will break it firmly, kindly and gently, but not apologetically, ‘cos he has never let me down.

I met someone.

And I’ll be calm and lovely, glowing in the dark, in my understanding, in his happiness. Shiawase yo.

I am happy for you.

I talked to Ruth about this earlier. She thinks I’m nuts. I just think I have too much spare time at the moment, hence the inane speculations. Obviously, I don’t believe in the above scenario myself (in the sense I doubt he will hurt me so suddenly and spectacularly). He will never do that to me. But I can imagine the outcome before it plays out itself tomorrow, can’t I?

I hate being caught unprepared. Like I reminded Ruth, it has happened before. She said very reasonably and sensibly, they are two different persons. And perhaps, something very joyous may occur.

I know. Hence, my fear. I do care this time. The stakes are there. And I’m vain enough to believe I matter as importantly. If it stalls, splutters and stops completely, I just might give up thinking, you know what. I will think only this far.

There’s always the possibility, like how I was led astray, of how he could be tempted.

I’m happy to be seeing him. I shouldn’t let this grayness cloud my childish pleasure and excitement at the simple thought of meeting him.

He: Tue then.

Me: What time?

He: You can tell me the earliest possible time you can be at your interchange and that shall be the time.

Me: 6.50pm. Where are we going?

He: What a silly question to ask, knowing that this question will not be answered…

Me: It doesn’t hurt to ask.

I know he won’t tell me what we are gonna do but I like to ask. I also know I'm a silly, silly girl. Silly but happy; happy but silly.

Shimin, was it you who said he’s the perfect boyfriend in many ways?

He’s quite perfect, except he’s not my boyfriend. Someday, some lucky girl will have the exclusive privilege of having all these exquisite little surprises lined up solely for her sunny smiles.

Status quo, darling, status quo. Someday, it will be somebody else. But now, it seems we are happy as a committed pseudo couple and it is all that matters.

Addendum:I realise I've moved from hoping to take a step forward to mildly worrying (irrationally) we may be moving in separate ways. Now I'm honestly relieved that nothing (bad) has been said each time we are together. This can't be good, or healthy. He has always been steadfast in his odd and affectionate gestures towards me. There's zilch cause for my unworthy, unfaithful (that I'm actually having doubts) thoughts, but I guess there's a reason my irrational fear is irrational :)

Let’s meet on Tuesday, okay?

Just before I went to bed, I recalled I promised to let him know my preferred day on Sunday night.

I woke up, stumbled blindly to the table where I had placed my mobile and blinked at it. There was a message. It was something from him but not relevant at all.

It was then I had the sneaking suspicion that it was a dream.

I’m psychic but I cannot foresee the future through dreams.

I woke up, made my way to the table, and realised there was indeed a message.

Like I said, I know I’m psychic, but this is ridiculous, and scary.

I’m probably still dreaming. This, quite obviously, cannot be happening.

It was then I realised (in the dream) I did the only thing only an Angeline is capable of. I had a dream in a dream in a dream! One step more convoluted and insane than the ordinary complex enough. Someone would have died laughing should this reach the ears (or eyes).

I pried my eyes open, determined to reach out for the mobile once more, and there you go, no message. This is Reality.

*

You have surpassed me in terms of age. May you catch up in the other segments. Good luck and happy birthday.