Something Good Comes In

Mum drifted in and out of consciousness, no thanks to the necessary good - morphine. And once the novelty of holding her hand and peering at her sleeping face wore off for the moment, which was like by lunchtime, I popped over to the hospital's inhouse KOPITIAM for a bite.

While contemplating over the dessert signboard, a figure cutting a slightly awkward gait beside me caught my eye. The hair, the glasses and that voice (he was ordering fruits) were a tad too familiar to be ignored. Was the person my 2I classmate who sat beside me? Whom again, I have not seen for > 5 years?

I considered sprouting "Excuse me, but are you my secondary school friend?", but the sheer embarrassment of it being mistaken for a lame pick-up line if I were wrong was too alarming. But I did ask something else when he moved towards the cash register where I was (the fruit and dessert stalls somehow share one together): Er...are you from DHS?

I'm very glad I made the attempt to acknowledge him, cos he went: Are you Angeline?

Yay! It's Eric, Kah Beng ala Hu-Hu Beng (some silly leftover nickname the class christened him that got stuck)! I was right!

It was really a pleasant surprise to see him again, and there, of all places strange, in the hospital eatery, when I'm all alone, and was just wishing for some company.

You din change at all! Looks the same. Said he.
And you have the same hairstyle still! Said me.

We sat down and started chatting (I bought a banana split in the end). I learnt that he graduated from Sheffield, UK last year and is now serving in the army ('cos of scholarly disruption). Updated him similarly on myself. Enjoyed some mutually good-natured ribbing for our study majors, gender divide and the likes.

It was really nice to see him again and to have the conversation flow easily and naturally. He harks from an innocent time during which I was very young, very happy and life was a lot more simple, fun and whole. Meeting and talking with him today makes me feel good in the deja vu sense.

His grandma has contracted end stage cancer too. Hence, his presence here (the fruits were for her, I think). Shared with him my saga as well.

I don't know if I will see him again, but it is rather gratifying and assuring to know that a friend is only a block away, facing similar battles for a loved one.

Eric is as super nice as ever (I'm inclined to think most things and people don't ever change). After we had said our goodbyes and I walked in the opposite direction, I heard him calling. Turning, I saw him beam and he said how it is really nice to see me again. With absolute, genuine sincerity.

Indeed, Kah Beng, this must be one of those rare happy moments that actually occur in the hospital. Like you said, it's totally surreal but it's such a blast to see each other again!

This kinda made my day, even though my mum was still too drowsy to talk much. A long-lost friend!!!

Leading An Ethical Life Without Morals Part II

In the end, I flew down to SGH, taking Qiuyan and Ezo with me. For suddenly, mum's condition was diagnosed as CRITICAL, and have to be operated IMMEDIATELY. What the fuck. But of course, no one was ready to push her into the theatre until my physical presence was there, unless they like risking my wrath.

Anyway, the same surgeon was telling me on the phone that it HAS TO BE DONE, NOW, NOW, NOW. Now, the last thing I want is a repeat of the previous operation that had naive me believing YES, YES, YES, without consulting anyone, thinking yup, we can handle it on our own and yes, we had better let her be cut up and everything will be miraculously made okay again.

So my medicine friends were there to listen and to re-phrase the jargon for me, as well as triple check that all the important questions were asked and answered convincingly. Which they did, thank you, my dears.

So truly, the operation this time was unavoidable.

I'm doing all right. Just rather tired and frustrated mostly, that bad things constantly happens here, and never ends, and that mum's healed wound is re-opened again (so the body gaped)
and like, ouch, man, AGAIN!?

Apparently, there's intestinal blockage and it was causing a certain part to swell up. There's no way to clear the former, so the surgeon did a bypass thing such that fluids (acids, ezymes?) can flow. It was also noted that there were little specks there were attributed to cancer spread in the rest of the small intestines. Definitely progressive and no hope of halt. Mum's side will also most probably have a small tube inserted, connected (long term, I think) to the correlated intestine, such that in the event she can't eat via mouth, feeding can be done through it. In short, waiting to die.

Life just sucks so badly.

Boss called me to say don't worry about work and just stay by mum's side.

What has all the above to do with leading the ethical life?

I have a point, you know: Sometimes, leading the ethical life necessarily requires you to abandon dignity and pride, and be sincerely apologetic and ready to start anew. It is without morals because it may need you to be relativistic with regards to maxims and principles, or else, burn them altogether, in order for there to be a new beginning.

*

In my haste to get to SGH, I fell midway from the standard flight of steps. Couldn't grasp the railing 'coz both hands were carrying mum's stuff. So I just piak onto the ground. My face was spared, but I have a huge bump (I have two knees on my left leg now!) and both calve front bones are throbbing like crazy.

Life sucks, especially mine.

Good night, I'll be at SGH tomorrow and days after!

Back To Leading An Ethical Life Without Morals

What is my ethical philosophy?

1. Nietzsche (100%)
2. David Hume (88%)
3. Jean-Paul Sartre (85%)
4. Stoics (76%)
5. Thomas Hobbes (66%)
6. Ayn Rand (56%)
7. Kant (54%)
8. Spinoza (53%)
9. Cynics (44%)
10. Prescriptivism (44%)
11. Epicureans (43%)
12. Nel Noddings (35%)
13. John Stuart Mill (30%)
14. Aristotle (28%)
15. St. Augustine (27%)
16. Jeremy Bentham (26%)
17. Ockham (24%)
18. Plato (18%)
19. Aquinas (17%)

Being a 100% Nietzschean (even though I *never* read him but I so know about Hume's impressions and passions and Satre's existentialism, bad faith and free will), I so believe that accordingly:

We have free will;
There is no God;
Social conformity should not hold us back;
The interests of others should not restrain us;
We should be passionate beings;
Masculinity, strength and passion are the highest qualities in a person;
Conventional morality is a crutch to man.

Of course, there are many other ways of putting these but you know the tune. I don't believe in morals, hence my ability to act in an altruistic way without using conventional morality to hobble along in life. I retain all rights to make a self-preserved choice after full considerations to ensure I never blame anyone for my past, present and future. I hold myself responsible and no one else if I screw up. That's my way to lead the closest kind of morally good life (even when morality is a suspect) I aspire to. A life in which no one is ever blamed for my failure and I contribute in the best manner I can and never at anyone's expense (or mine). Even if something has to go, the outcome is largely utilitarian in nature and I have no regrets, nothing long-term, anyway.

And therefore, I choose to continue working today, even though my mum was admitted to hospital (AGAIN!!!!) in the wee hours of morning due to acute abdominal pains. My sis is at SGH with her now (coz it's term break). Mum's condition is in no way critical at the moment and I will probably pop by tomorrow morning before trotting off to work again (2-8pm for this minted weekend). I suppose I could leave for hospital now instead of blogging, and I could call to be excused from work. But.

I'm really tired. Have been working non-stop for weeks. I need some quiet time to myself at home.

It's nothing particularly worrying at the moment. And so I shall be responsible and attend the event coz they are pretty short-handed. I also want to wait for a real emergency (however that is defined) before I run off, you know. 'Coz I really want to have a career (I still have a life to lead, however sad the life is, it's gonna drag on for years and years and a career is good for me and my pride), and in the long haul, surely money for the family is most important of all. I don't want to spell things out too clearly but those who understand, will. Those who can't, oh well, pls think again. Can call me to ask if you are sincere about figuring it/me out.

I'm really tired.

But I insist on leading an ethical life. I have to 对得起 myself.

Things And Thinking

I just suck when it comes to taking minutes. It's painful to concentrate and hang on to every word, filter and write selectively, succinctly but correctly, basically paying meticulous attention all the time.

I have no excuses for my atrocious minute-taking. Can I please admit I'm bad, very bad and give the task to someone else?

I can learn, in fact I have been learning, but it's really tough!

Was supposed to complete the minutes in 30 mins but I ended up using close to an hour. To make things worse, 30% of it were neither well nor right, at most half-right. Apparently, I also took down things which were never discussed (only one, but it's appalling!!!). Boss was obviously incredulous and unhappy. I have nothing to say, saved I'm bad. Am aghast too.

Then she told me to pen the radio ad which I did in 30 minutes, with five variations.

There are things you can do, and things you can't. Sigh.

I hate minute-taking.

*

Today, I was privileged enough to be roped into something more long-term. There was a period I thought it was coming, then I wasn't so sure, then I no longer think about it, then it was hinted at, and it was settled rather conclusively today. I like the idea, but because I never quite think about it as seriously as I wanted very much to when it was not confirmed, I can't make a decision. Now that intentions were made known and somewhat clearer to me, I can make an effort to analyse the situation. But apparently it was believed I'm okay. While I'm okay and grateful and happy, I still will like to make an informed choice, but. But there may be no choice.

I want to think about it.

And no, I'm not talking about relationships, even if it may read like it, and such a scenario entirely plausible to boot.

Addendum:
I hope this is not what's gonna happen if it's happening at all. Yes, relationships I speak now. I still want to think about it. At the moment, I'm just. Playing with my story ideas.

Fools Rush In, Sink And I Watch Them Drown.

One of the things I look out for and love in people is the general ability to not rush into things. I appreciate waiting for a relatively decent moment to slip in, perhaps, that you do know, or to highlight and otherwise. You know, like don't you dare panic and irritate me by stating the obvious, even though you are only very, very concerned about it. It's tough. But please attempt the balancing act of refined subtlety and getting the message across successfully ie let me know! He, of course, falls out of this category altogether. Because. I judge him by capricious standards that are as inconstant as my interpretations of his faithfully bizarre gestures.

But to return to the rare ability of not rushing into things, I think it was nice of Minxiu to let me know that he knows in a very casual manner. Maybe I'm giving him too much credit (Am I, if you are reading this) and it was a independently fortuitous moment that appeared that he picked, but when I read that particular sms, I felt happy, that he knows, and that he is letting me know that he knows, in the kind of dignified way I quite like, perhaps unknown to him.

This might never happen but there was a short, dark period I mulled over the thought, months ago as it first began: to have a short ( and raw for a realistic portrayal) film/documentary based on my personal experience (and my mum's of course) and tussles with The Hospital and Doctors - how the law is just too kind and protective towards them. The only concern was the technical aspect - I have no idea how to film and there's no equipment. That aside, marketing and PR contacts, promo and publicity, sourcing for sponsorships, planning for the launch, I think I can pretty much handle it myself. If my stint later works out, I can even cut my own trailers, which means I'll know how to shoot, which means it can all be a one-woman show! Just that it's more fun to have friends working on the project with you and I won't die of fatigue (He, of course, can be my legal counsel, but I won't necessarily listen to the advice dished out).

There's an easier way out: do it as a play. But I will prefer to reach out to the masses whom everyone seems to know everyone else's sob story about The Hospital and Doctors. And strangely, patients are resigned to being treated like shit, or are persuaded to (It's always like this lar, what to do, just have to live with it) .

The material is fresh but universal, yet controversial.

Anyone wants to join? We can play around with ideas first. Your role can be fluid. It's something to think about to prevent atrophying of the brain and to convince yourself you have something bigger and more important than your job.

*

At 8pm today, after I left her at 7pm, she called: I think you have to think of a radio jingle. I want it tomorrow.

Okay.

There are so many things to learn and look after and run, run, run after.

And there's no weekend 'cos I have to double up as usher for the two days.

I need a temporary separation from my work, but that can't happen till at least early October.

TODAY today

Because my boss appreciates me, she treated me to dinner on the Sunday she asked me to do a mall event. She also gave me 1.5 days of leave to make up for the burnt weekend.

Unfortunately, my boss is also rather forgetful as she is kind. Hence, on Monday, she called me (resting at home) to announce we have lots of work to do when I come back (!?!?).

Me: Err...okay. I can come back on Tue morning.
Boss: You mean you are not going to be in?
Me: *speechless*

So I'm working full day today. And it's my boss's turn to be off. Most unfortunately, she had a whole list of things for me to do, that kept me horribly occupied to 7pm. I ended up going home much later than usual even though she's not around. And even just now, I was typing office mails.

And she just called again to add a couple more things to tomorrow's agenda 'cos we are having a media presentation. She also reminded me to wear smart. Okay, boss.

*

The ad that I did the copywriting for came out in TODAY today. I'm pleased and proud. The whimsical touches of crawlies were my idea as well.

I told him that it was out and asked if he saw it.

He said he din have a copy of the paper.

But he went online to check it out once he got home, apparently.

He re-affirmed my belief he's quite mad when he remarked subsequently: But I think you've lost the Malay market by having a pig in the poster and the show itself.

And a couple of strange-and-not-very-nice things, he did add.

It's times like this that I'm not sure he's saying them like he means it, or he's just trying to work me up.

Cos it happens, like it always happened, many, many times, for so many years, that he'd toss up something so searingly incongruent and ridiculous (but at times surprisingly lucid at the same time such that I'm disoriented by the double entendre) just to relish my equally mock agitation.

But now that we have grown up, do the rules change? Is he still supposed to rile me and am I still supposed to get all indignant? Honestly, I believe this person says things mostly to elicit a particular (negative) reaction from me.

May I believe there is some truth in what he says? And when is that?

Does the fact he go online to look for the ad and to reply offsets all the weird things I have to put up with, just like how the wonderful surprises and plans he has for us (without consulting me at all) make up for a surreptitious silence?

Rhetoric. All rhetoric. And if you insist, as most questions, the answer is always no.

I WANT MY SLEEP!!!

I am working this weekend and the next. *absolutely miserable* Just how tired, you ask. Get this: I'm not thinking about him at all, not even out of frivolity. I just go, WTF. Thank goodness we don't have to see each other that regularly. And then, I fall sleep with nary a recycled thought of, well the usual.

It's rather depressing that I hadn't managed to catch much sleep lately (And it's very telling from hair and skin texture). Possibly a more depressing thing that emerges from the lack of sleep is the realisation that I value my rest, to the extent I will reject a lot of things. Like go for a movie at Tampines Mall, so says he, the relatively depressed friend with whom I'm in it together. No thanks, I will really love to just go home and sleep, says me. Yes, I have lost my enthusiasm and spontaneity, and I dun care shit, just give me sleep in exchange. Same goes for tonight's Let's go to the airport - Spare me, I love you, but some other day, please.

It will be so much more fun to go out when one is less tired.

I hope to sleep more in the days to come. I'm almost sorry to recall I have a dinner date with people I like very much on Thu.

*

Merger of print and TV. The question is of course, for scholars working in the affected sectors, whether they will be discharged from bond service, when applicable and necessary. Will it happen? Cause to celebrate, or what. Does the company have ample moral and economic considerations to justify retaining a scholar just starting out to serve, as opposed to an experienced staff whom it has no prior investment in? Ceteris paribus, what can be acknowledged as a fair decision? Apart from the privileged scholar status, what other factors contribute to everything else, I'd like to know.

They repeatedly reiterate that we are not a monopoly and to please refrain from that dirty word. Ha. In Saturday papers, I saw monopoly and its variant, monopolistic jumping out at least thrice.

*

My ex-nemesis has, in a shocking move, permed her hair most viciously. Coming from someone who was nothing but vile and mean towards me previously, and has attacked my non-conformist hair ie non-straight, non-side parting, non-dyed (in a most ridiculous manner, as those close ones will know), I feel vindicated. Not that I seek validation from her acr, but in the sense she's eating her words. She must know that I know that she knows that I knows.

*

Extremely bad hair days occur when one is sleep-deprived.

Jinx UnJinxed

I shall risk the horror of jinxing my recent contentment (and luck) by announcing that equilibrium has been restored. I'm rather happy.

I have been tasked to do a fair bit of copywriting and scripting over the past couple of days. Very pleased that an ad (written by me, me, me!) will appear early next week in the papers and that the script (mine, mine, mine!!! with wise direction and advice from my supervisor!!) will be used for an event this weekend. *And this is the cue for everything to start going haywired* But there. I have unjinxed the jinx by expecting the jinx. Boo, jinx. Don't you just hate it.

But. Yes. Things I can take pride in and look forward to. *keeps everything crossly crossed*

*

I'm surprised it is already Wednesday. I was, up to 4pm today, utterly convinced that it was Tuesday! Where did time go to?

*

Bad hair days begin the moment I strut out of my place with freshly-washed hair. I need to wash my hair the night before and sleep on it to ensure everything curls nicely the next morning. I forgot the other day and I had An Ugly Day.

This Ugly Day turned uglier when my sister "innocently" asked about the black spots on my face. Like hey, they are of a very light brown and have a proper term ie freckles. Needless to say I was irritated, irritation compounded by the unwitting way she said it, that meant she MEANS IT AND BELIEVES THEY ARE BLACK SPOTS!!! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

But it's okay. I got the ad and script. I also have gorgeous hair. Hate my freckles? Too bad. I am rather attached to them. Like curly hair, freckles make me feel special, in a good way. Of course, there are then the countless times a sales person attempts to sell me anti-freckle cream to rid the freckles, like the many times I have met with people who suggested kindly to rebond my hair.

I'm special and real; so go away, you stupid clones!

Ruminations On A Presence And A Past No Longer Present

Tonight, while meeting someone I was rather fond of, I found myself on the defensive once more, when she popped the two questions I hate and dread most.

She: Why don't you rebond your hair? Then you can be a 美少女...
Me: I'm already a 美少女, albeit with curls...and I don't like rebonded hair...*getting flustered and agitated* I like it the way it is.

I hate justifying and explaining the natural state of things. It is absolutely pointless. The right question, surely, is: Why are you rebonding your hair (Or, why should I rebond my hair)?

Which is incidentally the question I want to ask Hwee - Darling, why you go and rebond again?? Embrace natural beauty!!

Anyhow, curls are in, and he prefers me in curls (which is quite irrelevant, of course), and I'm comfortable (with) and confident of how I look. So there, all you people who keep pestering me to consider rebonding. Talk about stupid peer pressure. Go and curl your hair instead for a sassier, sexier look than the dime-a-dozen, lousy, limp and lacklustre locks!! Surely curly hair is more versatile and easier to style differently (bun with tendrils, english schoolgirl pony tail, braiding etc etc) . It just looks better (imagine a bun with rebonded hair - the hair will just poke out in a ridiculous manner) effortlessly and casually, even when wind-blown and tousled. So. Shut up.

And then, the ubiquitous question that everyone asks eventually -

She: Are you attached? Who's the lucky person?
Me: Er...

Like I wrote before, I am one pathetic helluva helpless and hesitant creature in the face of such blunt, superficial question that assumes all relationships to be linearly lovey-dovey. Really. It's like, how come everyone is having a "normal" relationship and there's no category I fit into. Theoretically, I'm not attached in the proper, acknowledged context as deemed by most. But. But.

Me: Not really. I'm going out. But it's not an exclusive relationship. At least we have never claimed it to be (the latter being something I added as an afterthought). *After more afterthoughts* Actually, we are just good friends, lar.

And as I said it, I believed it. Believe that it is good enough to have illicitly pleasurable moments together now and then, and that we are friendly friends. After all, what's in a name?

身份，不一定得靠個名分賜予。

We are okay the way we are. It's only difficult to account and explain to outsiders why do we put up; how do we stand such a mode of interaction etc. But we are answerable and responsible to The Other, only. Don't forget, we are sado-masochists, and just good friends.

*

But I forgave my senior, whom I haven't seen in 5 years, for traumatising me with the 2 tiresome questions. I think she's badly traumatised by my replies.

*

I have gatherings to look forward to. A mini HL one that consists of me, Hwee, Ezo and Wanying (unless anyone cares to invite anyone else); a mini TJC orientation one that has me, April, Jasmine (who was seated next to me on the train last week through an amazing stroke of luck and we exchanged nos) and Lingxiu, and perhaps Dennis will join in; one with me and Wang Yun (another senior I was similarly fond of previously and almost as long lost), and I hope I can see Kaile and Jude and Chin-yi real soon to boot. Hope everyone is well and good.

*

It's the one year anniversary of the death of a friendship. I'm not mourning; I'm acknowledging. He was good when (and while) he lasted. A year later, I'm ready to make it part of my 文藝愛情小說 selections. It's my hollow tribute to us, to celebrate that we both made extremely wise decisions a year ago. It's also a way of thanking, that he was there, when he wasn't, and for a very brief, convincing moment, made me understand it was quite possible to lead a life without. And subsequently, for bringing me to the realisation that no one can come close either to the original I had tried to run away so hard from.

He had asked if he were a substitute. But I don't see how that can be important anymore. Just like whether I have liked him would make a difference.

Knowing that I will write again gives me an orgasm.

*

From a year ago (The foreshadowing is uncanny) :

Dear love,
I am listening even as you refuse to speak
Of clichés that matter most. Sunny skies will never be
Ashamed of our darkness even if I am scared of answers.
Silence is on a winning streak, you know well so that I do know.
It stuns me (stunts me, you fool) meaningfully
Into misreading kind intentions,
Happily ignorant and ignoring of questions
That surface during the tossing summer
So candidly and carefully as you
Master the manly love and,
Shelter and steer our lives
From passionate whoring pain
(I forgive you. It was the only way we know how).

So above us lies a staring heaven we shall never know: You say it
Best in a story that has less to teach than to tell about her.
Neither excuse nor encouragement to say so that you do, or
Maybe it really should be you don’t, that you don’t, really.
It was a good escape for you, indeed so, for
I can never be reasonable; I just want to be safe
When I don’t see why you cannot risk madness
And fall into my arms. Now we are both safe and I hope
At least one of us is pleased.
Me, I take away pride and leave myself
Here, but here, and here, how can, or can it, be any different
When we write away, waste away
In words instead of worlds?
I think I am safe still, all too safe, but safe. You will
Pretend never to discover my presence
In your writings like how
I feign it is never about you
(Taking a step forward, I hold my breath).

Dear love,
My fingers fumble in your hand
And you drop them impatiently
For we have neither time nor energy to think through
Only that we are so, so, so sure
We are never lovers, can never be
(Nor friends either for we cut too deeply for that)
But we can be dreamers, as we dream now
Of a sweet future together somewhere else
Where we write of love
And there is no need for you to say.

But love, dear love,
I listen with you to the silence still
When no words remain and
There is no need to listen to you.

Dear Love
Angeline Ang©
All rights reserved

Of Vein Hopes, Veiny Obsessions and Vainer Thoughts

My friends, if they are my friends at all, are embarrassingly aware of the profound effects manly veins have on me, when found on a man.

Manly veins, otherwise known as good veins, are defined as relatively long and thick veins that are a naturally ocurring phenomenon and a significant presence on the arms without the male needing to flex at all to create the temporary illusion that is such the bane and joke. No, good veins are etched; they never disappear. They are there prominently ALL THE TIME. Think of them as a permanent erection, in short (but long).

I'm a most ardent admirer of his veins. They are so great, they show up even at a distance in pictures. It's such an open secret, even he knows. I have paid his veins strong compliments, and I suspect he suspects that when we stand next to each other, what with he poring over maps and me peering over his arm, my gaze is focused intently on his veins, on the pretext of reading the map. But he can't confirm, 'coz with our major height difference (almost 0.3m), my eyes can be comfortably resting on where they are resting fondly; the angle is perfect to conceal and confuse, and make it into just, bland interest in the slip he's holding up.

And that's about the only thing I can confirm and affirm for him, my desire and appreciation of his veins.

I wish I can comment and commit more. But I can't, because he is not contributing enough to my being able to read, analyse, and therefore, know. Personally, I suspect I'm falling into the same trap of denial (Hence, it is never enough, precisely because it can NEVER BE ENOUGH) and therefore, underreading, but no reading is also, too "under" when there is no evidence at the top.

At most vulnerable times, I feel I should give him more credit and for being more than Veins to A Very Vain and Foolish Person.

Boring Chronology Of A Day That Is Really More Exciting Than It Reads

I left my place at 0600 just so we could meet at his place at 0700. At the train transit, my mum called and asked (actually, she yelled) where the hell I was going and did I realise how bloody early it is and that I am not getting sufficient rest. Most of all, I was a stupid fool for meeting the friend, whoever "it" was (I had similar sentiments yesterday, with regards to myself, but he had also stated rather apologetically that life is sometimes unfair and the best bits of where he had planned happened to be starting from his area, so I forgave myself for being the sad pushover).

I'm afraid I don't quite have the answers to my mum's easy question. Firstly, I really have no idea where I'm heading, apart from his cryptic and vague "The Woods." Somehow, I don't think replying The Woods will make my mum very happy, and probably get me into more trouble before I even get to see him.

Anyway, he was already there, as usual, before me. And we moved along to where The Woods are, which turned out to be the Central Catchment Area around MacRitchie. Then we climbed to the tower, before and after walking at least 10km, I kid you not.

Then we ate at Fatty's Roast, in the middle of nowhere. Actually he ate; I only drank ('cos I can't master an appetite when I go through something strenous). But the char siew (I had two pieces, from my date's plate) was truly excellent, of the nicely grilled till chao-dar variety that we both like.

Then it was to the railway track (you know like in the train tracks to KL the last time, my darlings? Those exact same ones). It stretched on for like eternity, like before I knew it, we were in Buona Vista! Imagine from AMK to MacRitchie to Buona Vista.

But my companion was surprisingly amicable, agreeable and amusing today, so it was really quite a fun thing, when you compared to some of our more disasterous times together. He was less reticent (or maybe I'm more relaxed and friendly!!!) and showed me his hangouts when he was at RJC, the routes that he used to walk on a daily basis (which was the exact same path we had trodden together then and there). I was pleased that he told me these and took me here. We din know each other then, but somehow, it seems possible to relive and capture something through what we did.

We settled at Ghim Moe, another RJC hangout. I must say my partner is exceptionally gallant today, possibly his best-behaviour day. When he heard I was not hungry yet, he bought chwee kway (supposedly really famous and yummy) for me to share with him (when I knew he's quite hungry still and should be eating more than just chwee kway). I told him to buy something else to eat and that I shall too. I ended up having a bowl of tangyuan in ginger soup. He was fascinated, having never drunk ginger soup before, and decided to buy a bowl himself with sesame tangyuan. I bought another bowl myself. In no time, we realised that I bought a bowl for the ginger soup itself and he actually would prefer just the tangyuan. We should have just share a bowl! We left, but not before he showed where he had his two plates of wanton mee and bread for Saturday sustenance at the market. Seriously, this guy can really eat in those days of folly youth!

We got stuck twice at Buona Vista (at the provision shop nearby and the CC), cos it rained (when it never does before during our long walks) and we sat and talked, which was, to me, something new and revelatory. I mean it's tragic when I have to admit this, but I live in fear of his silence; it has happened many times we were both at a loss for words; and it's only recently that I feel he is somewhat more open. Once again, damn sad, but I'm grateful we talked at all, whether it's sharing or reminiscing.

After which we climbed Bukit Timah Hill, admired the panoramic landscapes at the peak, before moving to Pansir Panjang, during which mid-way I confessed to a gnawing hunger I was finally experiencing! We settled then at Cool Bar, shared mee and nasi goreng and moved painfully (for me, coz my legs were hurting like they don't belong to me) to Labrador Park, the beach.

Me: I'm tired, but it was fun.
He: I hope so.

After which we had dinner at The Boardwalk, and poked at a cheesecake. There was a couple of moments when I attempted to thank him verbally for taking me around but he just brushed it off. I don't think he takes compliments or thanks very well, after which I said firmly to him that I will stop uttering them henceforth.

But we both concurred we must either enjoy each other's company very much or we enjoy suffering, to spend a grand total of 15 hs together. It's a new record. I hadn't realised he planned the whole day.

I think we are sado-masochists.

From AMK to MacRitchie to RJC to Bukit Timah Hill to Pansir Panjang to Labrador Park from 0700 to 2200.

I admit that it's nice to follow him blindly and having absolute trust in my safety, nonetheless.

It's nice to see him carrying new maps around in his bag that he would whip out to check for directions. Did he buy them for me, I mean, the trip?

This is so gonna be a senseless and boring post.

I was happy, then I grew fatigued and now I'm less happy than I think I ought be. Today went very well, but why the melancholy? A surfeit of sweet togetherness ensues in an bizarre concoction of ironic bitterness and emptiness.

我选择去洛杉矶 你一个人要飞向巴黎 尊重各自的决定维持和平的爱情
相爱是一种习题 在自由和亲密中游移

巴黎下了一整天雨 不想要去证明 也不知道怎样证明相爱是两人事情
我不喜欢你怀疑 怀疑爱是可怕的武器谋杀了爱情
我在这这里本来是晴朗好天气

BLACK BLACK HEART SEND 给你我的心
计划是分开旅行啊为何像结局
我明白躺在你的怀里 却不一定在你心里

巴黎下了一整天雨 休息一下不需要那么的密集
不必每一秒钟都黏在一起
你问我爱不爱你 这个不是个问题
早就说过需要空间才能继续
我也真的不希望你离去
我们就试试看各走各的路

When A Lawyer and An Almost Lawyer prepare for a date

He: Do you want a sedentary Sunday or the contrary.

She: Must it be an "either or" option.

He: You want a mix? That's possible too...

She: Given the nebulous offer you have generously conceded, I must confess my inability to make an informed choice on my part.

He: Therefore you renounce your right to a choice and grant me sole perogative to decide in my discretion as I deem fit...?

She: Reasonably so, as defined by history, yes.

The above may read surreal but it really happened, just one of the myriad of oddball conversations when A Lawyer and An Almost Lawyer prepare for a date. Sigh. We are truly insane, aren't we? No, don't answer that.

*

I definitely need to be less hedgehog-ish when it comes to him.

But how, how? All my defences are up instinctively, and I'm a prickly ball of childish rudeness, exaggerated casualness and mock impatience. Not that he is much better, but he does make me feel petty and small, and that he is the adult in charge here.

I console myself that we have been living with this (like this) for so long, it's all right. And it is, most of the time, it's more fun than frustrating.

We are, apparently, going to The Woods.

We are such sado-masochists.

*

Will you go bring just anyone to The Woods, alone?

Will you follow just anyone to The Woods, alone?

你我到底算不算是一对恋人?

Well, no, no, and still, no.

*

我俩相识已久 你以为我喜欢自由 而我以为你 已经习惯等候
亲爱的 我从来没有忽视你所给我的温柔 我只是 说不出口并非习惯等候

在每一次交谈中知道 彼此的感受 在每一次的争吵后 为对方找寻借口
在每一次妥协以后 试着从彼此手中逃脱 却连放开彼此的手 也不能够

你我到底算不算是一对恋人 我这样问会不会有些认真 别再沉默 快对我说
你我到底算不算是一对恋人 你这样问会不会太过天真为何你从不对我说 我该怎么做

我俩算不算是一对恋人

Seeing The Last Of Angsty August

The last day of August sees me remarkably angsty. Once again, I can't see a proper future ahead and I'm bored, despite all appearances of being busy. I need something more decent and reliable, something that makes me feel good about myself. If I can't achieve orgasms from working, I need my romances and affairs, pseudo ones obviously.

Angst was compounded when she used a word that I took quiet offence at. Sure, in the light of context and her moods, it was probably one of those say-and-forget remarks, but I took it darkly. The word in question is "co-ordinate" - she reminded I was merely co-ordinating. Which is not exactly false since we all do some amount of c0-ordinate here and then. But. But I unhappy lor. I certainly don't see myself as a c0-ordinator, even my namecard reads something other. So that kind of spoilt my already spoilt day.

And feeling all the pent-up angst just means it's the cue to parade all my despair and desperation in a seemingly deadend situation, yet again! When can I get out? When can I do something I truly love? When can I regain my dignity and start utilising the reserves of brainy cells? When can I feel proud of myself again?

I'm not a bad person. I just want to take pride in what I do. Granted it's a much improved situation from the first 8 months of utter shit, but I feel deprived, somewhat still, which is not to say I'm ungrateful. It's just that lately, there have been plenty of downers in my job...

Was telling my close friends at office during lunch today, that sometimes I wish I don't have a debt to be paid in kind, just so I'm free to look for jobs outside. For my current mentality is: I can get a much better job elsewhere, with better pay and better prospects, with my CV. What I so totally need is to have this mentality utterly destroyed ie to have it proven that I really can't have anything better than this, that it can be so much worse outside, I have to thank my lucky stars for my fortuitous circumstances NOW, NOW. But meanwhile, I shall go along with my current mentality.

In a bid to upgrade myself and inject apathetic excitement into indifferent causes , I was thinking of persuading HR and supervisor to sponsor me for a couple of company training courses. Final Cut Pro etc. I wasn't too sure about the diff between Avid express and Final cut (think of them as different means to the same end) so I decided to check with Minxiu and Jude, the experts. We'll skip Minxiu for now, coz I'm really tired. But anyway, turns out Jude has lost his entire list of contacts and has been waiting for me to contact him, so he claims. Dinner next week, I guess. Good news, probably. Breaks the lousy routine.

He. I suspect he is part of something that used to be quite attractive to me, except I was already bonded and hence, option was expelled by default. Anyway, I had a dream this morning about the man which made me feel good, alas the temporariness!!!

He's never going to be mine, as far as the story and reality unfold gently in my ignorance. We will stay intimate but distant, aloof but together, apart but close, in the mutual desire to confirm and confuse to steer from a conclusion. That's how it goes. That's how it will go.

Addendum: I think we could be going out over the weekend after a long hiatus from each other (minus the sms-es and calls) but I'm not that sure. Reason says we are, coz he has spoken and I'm being selfish to deny both of us an ounce of hope and happiness, and sillier to even pretend to doubt. Reality says not to panic, for it will be okay and bans me from repeating to myself the vicious cycle story I have written somewhere here. Relief says now that we have something forward to look at, please do not tense up unduly and totally ruin things for myself - relax and JUST.DON'T.EVEN.THINK.ABOUT.IT.

Happy birthday to Kaile!!! Whom I was a day late in wishing. Like Duh. I knew it!!!