Sick Sad World

Life has been rather dismal lately.

Friday saw me somewhat defeated and defensive, when I was told by someone in a casual conversation who doesn't know shit about my ability and stubborness, that I won't make it in production due to nada experience. I hope it was because she misunderstood me, as mostly.

Now I really care shit about production. My professional interests lies in scripting and conceptualising shows that have soul and good dialogue (romance!), and Chinese variety programmes akin to the Taiwanese genres. Alternatively, I will be very happy in Radio, in a Chinese station, playing music and being a producer/presenter. I don't want to be Production per se, you see. I had enough of it doing a movie in NUS (I do have some experience) to know I hate it. Anyway, so this person declared most emphatically that I will be condemned to being a production co-ordinator if I were to switch. Which promptly put me in a foul mood for the rest of the evening. It doesn't help that this person is a veteran whom I respect and like.

Go to News, she kindly advised. Make contacts. You'd be taken seriously.

But I don't want. They did ask but I said no. I would have gone to SPH had I wanted to do reporting. But I don't want to be a mouthpiece!! I want to review, to analyse, to write instead of sheer reporting of facts. That might be a skill in itself, but not one I like to see myself developing.
I've told this to the various HR persons many times, with regards to what I want. I don't think they get it at all. It's rather bleak, the future, thus. There are no clear directives, and I can't plan properly.

So there you go, plotting my future makes me depressed.

*

No time to watch Before Sunset. Sob. Sigh. No romance.

*

Was it apparent that it was time for your grandma? I want to be here when it happens.

Kah Beng called me today, upon receiving the above text that I sent, during a moment I was observing resting Mum.

He recounted how it was for him, for Grandma during the last week. The symptoms, the explanations, the feelings.

I was grateful for the sharing, and selfish enough to forget to apologise that I made him relive most of it, including the funeral. It has only been three weeks.

He made me feel particularly bad about myself, that I failed to call him when he told me Grandma has passed away. I only sms-ed (Meihui, I blame you too!!! You were there when it happened!!!). And here's the same person who said "I got your message, and I thought it best to call."

I feel mortified and ashamed. And yes, even more vexed that I could only utter stupid thank you-s and not the sorries. And I do know that Grandma was a Very Important Person in his life before this.

He was already very wholesome and nice when we were much younger (letting me copy maths homework etc). There's hope in the world now that it's evident some things do get even better with years. Not everything is rotting away. If a friend whom I have not seen for 6 odd years, whose link to me is at best, acknowledged as tenuous, is able to be this sensitive and kind, imagine what my closest friends are capable of. Woah! All people should aspire to react as he did to make this an easier world to transit in, things are unbearable enough as they are. We should try to help one another.

Well, thanks, Kah Beng, for restoring my faith in humanity, that I should behave as you do, to care and to be ever vigilant in case I can be useful and bring to some a glimmer of light you gave me today when everything seems confused and just that dimmer.

No thanks for making me feel really bad for the latter part of the day though.

A Chunky Piece Of Meat

It will be unrealistic of me to carry such expectations of a man. But.

*swoon*

I like!!!

I remember going woah the first time I saw these photographs. The caption made me giggle though, 'cos it read "buns of steel."

The first picture is an exaggerated ideal of the sort of veins I like to see in men as a rule. The protruding veins all the way to the shoulder is a bit too overwhelming (not intimidating, mind you). So long as they reach at least the elbow area, I will be very happy. And see how he's not reflexing, but the permanent erection is there? Yes, that's what I mean when I say I have a vein fetish. I like veins that are like those in the picture. Those aren't as nice as the friend's, but since I can't put up the friend's veins on my blog, just make do with those as a reference.

As an aside, I think he has a great body, but the belly button is a bit on the high side hor. Looks weird. And for gossip's sake, he has been voted (1) the man least women want to sleep with ironically and (2) the man most likely to have SM tendencies. (1) and (2) are not s obviously related.

This is a nice scene to wake up to on a lazy morning.

For The Pleasure Of Seeing Him Again

The Inanity, Insanity and Incongruity of It all.

Only for the pleasure of seeing him again.

*

It was an utter relief to be with him again. I can't really explain.

He has become a staple that anchors my world.

Just the thought of never having his companionship again screws me inside out.

So. I'm rather glad we went out even if it's at the expense of me eating my words.

I'll just have to write more to make up for the lack.

*

Nothing particularly exciting happened. I monitored my thoughts and was happy to find them comfortably repeating: Why am I doing this? Are you sure? This is what you want?

And that I still don't have the answers.

I don't want things to change. It was provocation that produced that particular reaction before.

*

I din like the play. Neither did he. Cue for imminent disaster.

*

Anyway, it was a pretty safe kind of hanging out, all in all. We went to Smith Street, Chinatown for dinner. We have established our staples recently ie a stable repertoire of things we always order when eating at these authentic and dingy places.

So, my companion ordered two plates of wanton/charsiew noodles and a large bowl of fish soup, both of which he claimed are very good. Dessert was the tangyuan in ginger soup and upon my request, black sesame paste as well.

Boring, I know.

But what's interesting was how we share.

We had each our individual plate of mee. And okay, we drank the fish soup directly from the original bowl, ie two spoons in bowl, which is how we Chinese eat as a community (many spoons in source). Still acceptable, I trust.

We also planned to order one bowl of tangyuan ginger soup (the agreement is he'd eat more tangyuan and I'd have more of the soup, which we are only too very happy to) and one bowl of black sesame paste to share.

Thing is, he bought the tangyuan ginger soup first and told me to have some first, while he zipped off to buy the paste. I looked at him quizzically because the tangyuan ginger soup only had one spoon.

He returned to announce the paste has been sold out.

Now, I had been drinking a bit of the ginger soup with that one spoon and that was like the only dish we had left on the table.

There's still a lot of ginger soup left and five black sesame tangyuan-s untouched.

And just, one spoon.

Instinctively (and politely), I nudged the bowl to him.

In all seriousness, I had expected he'd get another spoon. But he didn't. Just coolly gulped down three tangyuan-s and nudged the bowl back.

I took more ginger soup. Aren't you gonna have the soup too? And he did.

I took a tangyuan and said he can have the another. And he did, and had more soup.

And it pretty much went this way, for the rest of it.

Just. One. Spoon.

*

I wouldn't have thought much about this, except Shimin who came to knew of this said it was so gross and unhygienic.

Well. 'Cos I know he's disease-free?

But now that she brought it up, come to think of it, it's kinda odd huh. Except i'm not too concerned, since it's him. Had it been someone else, even someone close, I just might have voluntarily taken another spoon.

*

The best thing about enduring one day with him? I can last an average of 6 weeks well and good through work, through life, without him, simply by tormenting myself like this. After seeing him, I never want to see him again, till a prolonged safe and lull period has come to be, and I get all restless and edgy and get amnesia, forgetting how terrible it can always be, and cave in to cravings of a crazy kind.

*

I hope things are stable now, in the stagnant way. I want to stay here.

Two Men, Two Women and A Chinese Wedding Dinner

Amanda's Boyfriend (henceforth known as Boyfriend), is extraordinary.

A little background: Attended John's (colleague) wedding today. Amanda once hailed from our department and thus was invited too. She brought along her British Boyfriend.

The seating arrangement happened that I was between my Boss and Kim, the Finance VP (single and male and mid-30s). Amanda was beside Boss, and Boyfriend next to her. Wendy was between Boyfriend and Sonja.

The moment Boyfriend was first introduced to Boss, who's a very sophisticated and worldly veteran at her most mature, he shook her hand, and lifted it, and put it to his lips!!! Like eeewwwwwwwww. Then he turned to Wendy and attempted to hug her.

I promptly refused to look in his direction. AHHHH!!!! Molest!!!! Not even cute. No way!!!

And so I believed I was rather safe, being a distance away. He tried talking subsequently to Wendy and Boss most enthusiastically, but both sent out strong "let me be" signals and he decided to talk to Amanda, his Girlfriend eventually.

Later on, Amanda and Boyfriend excused themselves from the table. And we, the indignant, broke into a torrid.

Wendy: Ahhh!!! He manhandled me!!!

Boss: No foreigner actually has the audacity to kiss my hand during the first meet. It's never the norm.

All: How can Amanda put up with him!!!

Now Amanda happened to be a rather good friend of mine in the workplace. When she beckoned me to go to Ladies together earlier, I knew she wanted to ask me how I find Boyfriend. Whether he is too extreme. Apparently he's been married twice and had two children and is the Creative Director of the agency she's at.

I don't know, it's only been an hour, I said honestly. Is he consistent in his extremities? Yes, said Girlfriend. But I don't think this will last, she remarked. Then why, asked Me. Lonely, perhaps, she reminded.

Anyway so eventually Sonja, Wendy and Boss left in quick succession, leaving just Me, Kim, Amanda and Boyfriend. Kim excused himself to smoke.

Pretending to be fascinated by my cup of tea doesn't help in deflecting attention now that the target has been severely narrowed down to just Me. Hmmm.

Boyfriend: How old are you?

Me: Er...Guess?

Boyfriend: 19?

Me: No...24

Me: And yourself?

Boyfriend: Guess?

Me: 38?

Boyfriend: No, 41.

I was rescued from this boring conversation by Kim's reappearance and the two of us (Kim and myself) began to talk in order to, well, avoid another..

Boyfriend was apparently observing our body language and all, for this is where things turn very super duper 劲爆...

Boyfriend *interrupting us*: Are the two of you married?

Kim *calmly*: No, we are colleagues.

Boyfriend: You sure? You seem very familiar with each other. Are you sleeping together?

Kim *getting edgy*: I don't think you should ask such things. It's very disrespectful to her.

Boyfriend: Why not? Have you considered sleeping with her?

Note: All these while I was following the conversation with great interest, but I pretended that my cup of Chinese tea was the most intriguing thing ever.

Kim: I really don't think so. She's very young *something of the sort*

Boyfriend *apparently promptly forgetting I had told him*: How old is she? 16? 17?

Kim and I looked at each other and inspiration struck.

He: Actually, she's 15. So I can't sleep with her. It's considered statutory rape.

Boyfriend: Oh, I remember now. She's 24.

Boyfriend *turning to me* So would you sleep with me?

Me: Er...har?

*

Boyfriend to Me: So how boyfriends have you had?

Me: Well, I have a lot of friend who are guys.

Boyfriend: So do you enjoy them?

At this point, Kim was sufficiently pissed at this extraordinary who kept asking 劲爆questions and gallantly (and immediately) reacted with a menacing expression and tone before I could respond. He was really quite irritated at the sexually-saturated questions Boyfriend kept hurling.

Kim: No, don't ask that. How can you interrogate people like this and invade their privacy during the first meet...blah blah. *starts to reproach Boyfriend for his rudeness*

Can't remember what Kim said lah, but it was quite cool.

Boyfriend: But I'm English...

That was obviously a non-sequitur. And I'm glad Kim picked on it and berated him even more.

Boyfriend to Kim: We should exchange cards and come out for drinks and have a serious chat.
You are very interesting

Kim *rather unwillingly, I know*: Sure.

Boyfriend: You could come to our place...

With Lightning Reflexes, Kim and I turned towards Amanda who has turned noticeably green.

Oops, they are co-habiting and it's something he blurted out which we shouldn't know?

Kim: It's okay. We never heard that. We can go elsewhere for drinks.

Boyfriend, to Me: You are coming along with him right? (x3, meaning he asked 3 times in quick sucession when I hesitated)

Me: Oh, all right.

I'm sure Boyfriend is thinking along the lines of a foursome.

Urgh.

*

Nevertheless, 劲爆night, is it not. Yay, and I'm very young and gay :)

The Return of The Prodigal Lover

Anyway, after a distressing night for the patient who found herself in sudden inexplicable pain and her family who found itself sleepless and stressed as an immediate result, the patient was re-admitted to SGH first thing in the morning, where she was monitored closely ever since.

The patient is depressed, no doubt about that, muttering she wants to die. Is it time yet?

No, said the senior consultant firmly. Definitely not yet. There's at least a few months to go.

That's good to know.

The elder daughter is secretly relieved that the patient is at hospital while things are still trying to settle themselves. For that's where the patient can secure better care when she and things are flopping around, trying to nail all down proper. It makes it easier, even if it reads horrid.

It has been agreed the patient shall stay a little longer in hopital, and stop thinking of rushing out lest she lands herself promptly back where she tries so hard to run away from, as histories have shown.

*

oh~也許有一天　我們不再相戀 但希望這感覺　停留在心裡面

After receiving a pair of tickets to Ivan Heng's The Visit of The TaiTai, I did the only natural thing to do. I searched for the number, closed my eyes tightly and hit the send button before I could change my mind and rue.

(But I'd rue either way, so.)

Now, my only hope is that he'd not have received it. Or, that he'd ignore it. The latter is impossible, so perhaps the former.

The incriminating sms from me: I got tickets to The Visit of The Tai Tai coming Sunday, 3pm.
Want to come along?

He: Yes, that is possible. So we can meet 1445hrs I suppose.

Me: Is dinner on the cards?

He: As you so desire...

Urgh. As I've blogged before some posts back,

爱， 使人不争气，不必赌一口气。我不认为有风度就代表认输。

It's okay.

URGH.

URGH.

URGH.

But. I will never broach that day, or come close to The Issue, ever, ever, ever, again.

*

關於愛你　我現在愛你 關於愛情　我用心很多 關於未來　結果會如何　我無法承諾
關於自己　我已經足夠 關於彼此　我還在學習 關於未來　我沒有答案　我無法承諾

雨下了走好路 這句話我記住

From Minxiu,

Like I say, I often wake up in the morning and ask myself what the fuck I'm doing with my life. Perhaps it's too late now to regret signing up for this. The company doesn't seem to have any plan for me, unlike many other such organizations that give out scholarships like this. I suppose someone just goes, "Oh, I have a bunch of people who are contractually bound to us for 4-6 years each. Let's see... ooh, I think it'll be fun to stick him here. And her there. And... oh, I'm bored. I think I'll go for lunch." And then promptly forgets all about us once he's back from lunch break. Seriously, I see no prospects at all in the future. Nada, zip, zero, none, mei you. Where am I going to be? I shouldn't be asking myself that, not when I'm supposed to be sitting well and pretty. I know that without it, I probably would never have gone to NU and gotten so many opportunities. Is this what happens when the security blanket of school is ripped away? I thought I was cynical, but now I know I wasn't all that cynical, not quite yet. Is it unreasonable of me to be expecting something more? Can this be that goddamn "quarter-life crisis" that was the topic of discussion in the mainstream media a while back? I mean, it feels pretty much like a fucking crisis to me, thank you very much. I also know it sounds whiney. Lots of people don't have jobs. Lots of people don't have job security. Yes, but then again, when a company gives out shit like that, I think they're obliged - nay, should be compelled - to get their shit together and give us the respect and treatment we deserve. After all, people leave your company all the time, don't you think it's because you suck in some small, undefinable way perhaps?

This is akin to what I'd have written in great angst and anger during my first 8 months. While things have since infintely improved, I get incredibly depressed when I compare what I believe in reasonably good faith, what I'd be doing, to what I'm actually doing. What I want to do vs what realistically I have been doing. Yes, like my friend, probably even more strongly, I thought I couldn't get more cynical.

I just don't understand how life operates the way it does - with absolute irreverence and irrelevance towards people who are just doing their best to lead their lives and deal with stuff. It's stupid and shitty.

Life doesn't appreciate that I just want to live in my own fucking little world, get all fucked up and derive my orgasms from writing romances mainly. If I can't make a career of it, at least the job I'm doing will have to materially supplement (in sense of $ and encounters) it without eating into the time supposedly to be dedicated to writing.

I mean seriously, what's so difficult about such a request? My peers' parents don't just die on them in relatively quick sucession, leaving them to deal with all the scary shit like paying bills, making sure all transfer documents are signed, that our money is not retained by the government, check, check and check that all is in place, basically all the practical ie survival stuff, that I'd hate to care and I wouldn't give a damn ideally.
Hello, like how do I arrange a funeral blah blah. May I write about it instead?

Which is why my man's gotta be all worldly wise and got street credibility. He's gotta look after all the nitty gritties to free me up from the daily grind of Lousy Life. Know his directions blah blah and actually enjoy taking care of these. Which means I'm still describing someone as I know and have trusted, and still do, just that I've decided to handle all these myself for the time being. But that's meandering off.

Anyway, if my mum were still healthy, and ceteris paribus, life could pass off as okay.

But she's not. She's dying in front. Yup. So in case you guys still don't get it, she is living out her final days.

She's just been discharged yesterday and to my horror and immense irritation, the pump that's to give her the feed throughout the night din fucking work.

Now you must appreciate that my mum is no longer taking food orally. She's fed via a tube connected to her intestines, and the long tube is connected to this pump that rotates regularly so that she's able to get the required amounts within a very controlled time frame. Now that the fucking pump din fucking work, we had to control the pump manually, meaning every few minutes, just so to ensure flow is smooth and neither too fast nor slow, or worst, stops completely. Since this is her total food intake, the pump stopping is akin to her eventual death speed up. And it really doesn't bode well that it spoils on its first use, if I were to be entirely Chinese and hence, superstitious.

So I called the person/s in charge, and just yelled very firmly - I need a replacement pump. what do you mean you have no spare. you think I care. Just get one that works now to Tampines. Like Now. Now Now Now. After 8 such conversations sprouting similar lines, I got the substitute. But the stupid substitute was on low batt which means even after I switched on the power, it has to be totally recharged and only after 8 hs, so it means it still cannot be used. Oh fucking bugger. Ended up manually adjusting the thing till 1am.

it's 9am now, and apparently the substitute is still at low batt. Murphy's Law.

But it's okay. Murphy doesn't know I'm from hell and I kick hell when stupid things happen.

I also took leave today to do urgent stuff like process documents, look for maids (immediate serving ideally visit HDB, make sure I actually have a working pump, and of course to see that my mum lives beyond today.

See, all I want is just write. Why is this happening to me? I don't understand.

But while I'm rather patently ignorant about reality (Urgh - CPF...Ahhh what logistics, what tax levies...), the good thing is I'm stubborn and insistent person who is all too willing to yell and fuss and overwhelm ppl with my powerful English and determination to get my way. Most importantly, I was ignorant, true, but that's only because I couldn't be bothered, which means it's a temporary state. Now that life has irritated hell outta me, I'm just gonna find out and fight. Make sure we dun lose out. Oh bloody hell.

I'll be in parts of Tampines later on to check on maid stuff, so if any of you have maid information or even better, recommendations, please contact me like immediately today, if you can, or the next few days (not so great 'coz I want one soonest) .

In the past, I asked what the fuck I am doing with my life. These days, I wake up asking what the fuck is happening to me. But there will never be an answer, and maybe he's right, it's inexplicable. It happens. And it's there. Maybe I shouldn't begrude him for hesitating because he's only telling the truth. But that's me getting sentimental in moment of need.

Now excuse me while I do everything else, and stop writing.

雨下了走好路 這句話我記住 風再大吹不走囑咐
雨過了就有路 像那年看日出 你牽著我穿過了霧
叫我看希望就在黑夜的盡處

哭過的眼看歲月更清楚 想一個人閃著淚光是一種幸福
又回到我離開家的小路 你送著我 滿天燕子都在飛舞

雖然一個人 我並不孤獨 在心中你陪我看每一個日出

Weekly Nutshell

I just finished rushing two other press releases within the past odd hour, not factoring in research online, which I managed to collate and conjure magic. I had nil material to work with.

Boss: Don't forget the press releases. Monday hor.
Me: Okay but do we have any information on who these people I'm supposed to write about? Like I don't even know their names.
Boss: Good point, but we don't have. Just write. Sensationalise. It's a press release.

Okay, Boss.

Anyway, the two press releases were weighing on my mind somewhere, as I spend an idyllic Friday (took leave) and Saturday whole in SGH with mum. I brought a notepad but ended up reading the papers and magazines I bought instead.

Finally, on Sunday, it was now, or never. And goodness, I can't believe they are done! Hooray! Yay! Let me just say that if there's one thing I can do, it's to write. On anything, at anytime.

It has been a relatively all right week. I did another thing that I enjoyed for the latter whole of Thursday - reading and amending a contract. I must say I'm really rather well-versed in the whole legality of things, to the extent, I gleefully announced I think I did a great job (in rewriting and revising the bits that are contentious to the possible detriment of my Co. and in deleting redundant and repetitive clauses), much to the amusement of Boss.

And my work desk is currently spick and span - it's so neat these days I always do a double take when I walk in - can this belong to me?

I'm no longer gonna be a trailer producer, but stay where I am now, which I'm happy.

My decision to take charge of my career ie attending those upgrade courses has been met with approval and thankfully, sponsorship. I need to have focus and direction in life.

*

There's a reason why Ruth's my best friend.

*

Had dinner with Meihui on Monday night and dear, I wish you happiness and resolution.

*

The week actually got off to a rocky start with me smsing Kah Beng if his ah ma's still warded. He then said she's passed away at home a couple of days before.

I thought hard and long about what to reply in return.

Meihui, who was with me when the unfortunate incident happened, suggested "my condolences" which I promptly poked her in the ribs and shook my head.

*

I'm so tired this week that I was rude to April and Kaile, to the former I was curt, the latter I ignored, but he 对我不离不弃, for which I must review my conscience. I must not be bad to nice and kind people. Wait they stop loving me how?

*

I miss Shimin's call from Melbourne twice in a row, the last being I was very fast asleep after waiting for a while, thanks to fatigue.

*

May I stay safe and sound and scrape-free come tomorrow and for the week ahead.

我收你１０块，以后你想要的时候，我也这个价

It never ceases to surprise slightly that people find his movies esoteric.

Maybe this just goes to show that the world doesn't bother with love anymore.

Filmed by one of the last True Romantics left cold, 2046 whispers relentlessly of fatigued hauntings and Old World decadent opulence, of a Man who doesn't know what he wants, only that he is still searching for it, of Woman 1 who dreams of forgetting, of Woman 2, vainly (both vain and in vain) petulant and pining , of Woman 3, who misses another and refuses to look, of Woman 4, who understands that he is not asking her per se.

Come and look for me the day you are ready to leave with me. (translated)

Of course she won't leave with him, she will leave him instead, that's Woman for you. What kind of man will leave the decision with you, only one who doesn't like you enough, or who have no balls (which technically and obviously means the same thing).

我曾经爱上一个人，我很想知道他喜不喜欢我。

This reminds of my favourite scene in Ally McBeal, Season Two during which Ally yelled at Billy for asking her The Question, and therefore effectively making her bear responsibility by answering. For Billy will never experience the kind of devastation and despair because in theory, since Ally has rejected/denied/refused/negated, he can console himself that he's respecting her wishes. Whereas for Ally, she'll have to live with the fact that she may have single-handedly destroy her own happiness forever by being accountable for The Answer.

In short, please don't leave it to me. Can't you decide? And if you really so desire, never prompt a question, never leave room for me to think. Just. Say. It.

那天，他问我，如果他多买一张票，我是不是愿意跟他走，我拒绝了。事实上，我是多么想跟他一起走啊，可不知道为什么，我脑子里的芯片却对我发出了拒绝的指令……

Eventually it was Kimura Takuya who uttered it - leave with me - but even he took too long and what he loved was tired, very tired (even though nonetheless still a terrible tease).

以前的人会找一个树洞把自己的秘密说进去。

Why can't I tell you? Why can't you tell me? Maybe we are not even meant to say it. Just do it, stupid. Like how the traveller reacted to his deadpan companion.

In this sense, the interlude between 周慕云 and 白玲 struck a chord, most. The fact that 白玲 develops a true attachment to him shows that you can come clean and clear despite carnal attractions. Saying is really secondary. See how Faye Wong becomes his ghostwriter and even as he narrates his stories to her, nothing ever emerges from the state of pristine, prissy affairs. Even better, see how the relationship with 周慕云 is ruined irrevocably when 白玲 attempts to talk it out and set safe boundaries (ahhh so familiar).

Anyway if you are wondering to speak or not to speak, take it from the thought (not top) expert on this kind of things, dun even think, just act upon it!!!

所有记忆都是潮湿的

受了点伤

My love,晚安 就别再为难 别管我会受伤
想开 体谅 我已经习惯 不然又能怎样

I plugged in the ear phones and headed for the city on my own. I am driven by a sense of purpose: to be happy. If it entails cutting my nose to spite my face, hell, that's a small price to pay.

竟然以为你会不一样 但凭什麽你要不一样

Thankfully, happiness is only expensive, and neither exclusive nor elusive. Remembering the wise folks say that a good pair of shoes can bring you to happiness, I bought a pair of pink slip-on heels. Another investment was a purple baby doll top which I know he will find indecently revealing, but when has that ever stopped me. It just gives me pleasure to think he will never see me in it and it's rather nice (both top and thought). I also got the Cat Bag from the latest collection in the basement of Takashimaya. It's a pretty, light-blue sling bag that costs a bomb.

一首情歌都比一个亲吻更长 这就叫做好聚好散

Henceforth, I must be good to myself. Not that I wasn't to begin with. But I deserve nothing but the best, and any less is really something I shouldn't be putting up with.

I'm okay, I think. I just need so badly to write. His part has ended and so has my narrative. I can now finish the novel. And where's time when you need it, despairingly and desperately.

My love,晚安 别放在心上
我只受了点伤 只是受了点伤

The Very Dead And The Very End

As if to prove my points in my previous post, that:

(1) I have fulfilled (and served) my term,
(2) to showcase my de-term-ination to terminate,
(3) it has been determined, finally, and deferred, delayed no longer,
(4) it is the end of the repeatable and repeatability,
(5) age of aporia is over

He is conveniently dead. No need to agonise over the traces, the surpluses and the excesses. No need for excuses on his behalf. They can stop, have to stop, with the silent violence of his death (due to cancer). There is always no more remainder, no additional and the unaccounted for that I have to analyse. It is a good, timely sign that tells me I am doing right.

No need to understand, no need to assume and therefore no need for the absence, the lack, the gap, the chasm. No guilt in its imagined lacuna (it has been un-imagined)in order to project closure and containment. Henceforth, there is only Presence. No Absence, no absence that results in an exclusion and omission of something, the something as necessarily and permanently missing from interpretation. There is Freedom from anticipating, pre-empting and restoring what has been exiled and banished. I do not have to save The World. For there is a Center and Origin. No Rupture, no Rift, only The End, Gloriously Full and Whole and Final.

Of course, it will be a very different thing altogether if I were to pen an academic eulogy for this man whom I have studied about and studied under another who have known him.

But still, since the man who claims that "meaning is context bound and context is boundless" is dead, he put a physical cap on a context that we live in and I find it supremely comforting that his death occurred right after my decision to End It All. There can be an End, reflected by the man who had boo-ed at it. With that, the so-called potentially infinite future as well as an infinite past that was never anyone’s present becomes the closure and containment for my absolute contentment at a wise action taken, circumscribing any contention I might otherwise have, With the Death, Without the End.

Long live The Very Dead, The Very End, and that I have come to reaching The Very Deadest End with him.

Addendum: Derrida is getting a little of his own back at me via our local newspaper from his grave, as if he knew of my mocking piece on his theories and how I have travestied (and subverted) them just to prove my own selfish points. If you flip to L5 of Straits Times today and see one entire page dedicated to Col comfort, that's one of the laidback places he brought me to in our second last (ever) outing. Where we shared the nasi goreng and horfun and had ginger beer. Hateful, isn't it. Well Derrida, I concede that there will be things coming back to haunt, but darling, that doesn't refute the fact that I'm gonna close doors on the both of you.

I, The Depths of Shallowness, Hereby Declare I Severe All Ties With You Henceforth

He answered in the dirty affirmative, like I know he would (when there was nothing left to say), and I earned the closure that I need. Henceforth, I’m a free woman, with neither baggage nor bind that signify my belonging to anyone but myself.

Oh, it went well initially. Upon knowing I was ill, he quickly changed the original plan (satay and Malay food which we agreed will finish me off like completely) to porridge at Chinatown. But we weren’t that hungry, so dinner waited and we strolled to Ann Siang Hill Park. There was a swing meant for two there, and he motioned me to sit. Eventually we did sit together but I think embarrassment struck and we jumped off hurriedly in less than 10 mins.

Then I suggested walking to Arab Street.

*

We passed Maxwell Market.

He: This is a historical place, you know why?

Me: It’s a famous market?

He: It’s where you started being friends with Yingliang and that assisted him to becoming the next Chair.

Me: er…yup, my fault. *censored*

*

We started chatting. He asked me about Po.

Now, I’m always uncomfortable when he brings up Po. The latter is mentioned, I feel, as a sign (mild) of jealousy and a sense (general) of threat that the former feels. This is completely irrational and unreasonable because it is obviously not Po that I like. Besides, Po is not relevant anymore, for we are no longer in contact at all.

In exasperation, I revealed that Po and I are friends no more.

*

We entered Asian Civilisation Museum.

*

Me: I need to pee.

We went to CityLink.

Me: Hey, you realize it’s a historical moment now, now, now?

He: What?

Me: It’s the first time ever we have stepped into a mainstream teeming place together! My goodness!

He: I know. It’s making me very uncomfortable. We need to get out. But no choice, since you need to pee.

*

I embarked on a very familiar stretch of road with him that I have once walked with another.

Me: Hey, did I ever tell you I used to walk from Orchard all the way to this Lavender stretch when I was facing trouble from my thesis?

*

After our dinner of fish soup and black sesame tangyuan in ginger brew at the market, we proceeded to Arab Street. He ordered prata and I, green tea at the place in which I had come with some of my Lit Hons mates before.

It is quite surreal. If only he could guess at how I had once hoped to cover this area with him to exorcise some demons. More than a year later, I’m here with him.

*

He: You know, some things no need to be said one. Why must say.

Me: You don’t say, how do people know.

*

He: Do you remember my home and hp number?

Me: Do you remember mine?

He: They’re stuck in my head *recites perfectly*

Me: Wah, you where got call me so often?

He: So you remember mine?

Me: *recites perfectly*

Now if it had ended here, maybe it’s a different story altogether. But he brought up Po again, and somehow, because he seemed genuinely interested, I told of the real reason why we went separate ways (Nooooooo, we din break up, I yelled at him. Don’t you repeat that phrase again!!! We were never anything and break up connotes something that is not!!!) and he agreed Po is quite mad.

And then, and then I told him very briefly of why Po and I had that strictly platonic going out agreement in the first place: because of my unhappy and very messy, very confusing experience with a mutual friend (I stopped here).

*

Me: And I never talked to both ever again.

He: That’s terrible. You had one for one and overnight you had naught.

Me: *suddenly depressed* I know. Sometimes I wonder if it’s all my fault that the ending is such, since I’m the common factor.

He: Well you were not at fault where Po is concerned, but I don’t know about the other, since you din tell me what actually happened.

Of course I kept steadfastly mum. How was I to say. That it was his fault that it was messed up because he was non-committal and I was uncertain and someone needed a blank slate?

*

But I’m afraid I got possessed then. Something inside me clawed and claimed it’s the golden chance to rescue a fragment of clarity from the craziness that was us.

I’m afraid I did ask if he thinks he’ll end up like Po and The Other. It was not a bad dream. It happened.

He said he’ll not be the former, but The Other, what happened.

Me: He traumatized me by asking me if I had ever liked him.

*pause pause*

Maybe he got what I’m saying, whatever.

Thing is, I can’t remember exactly what happened next ‘coz it was even more traumatic.

I know meaningless and valueless phrases like “nothing is cast in stone”, “status quo” floated around though, voiced by he. I don't understand, I never did.

Not time for the next stage…

The question is,
(1) are the feelings there, before we even touch on stage whatsoever
(2) is it a matter of no feelings at all. There never will be, and forget about the stage!
He said can be either. And then repeated all the maybes and perhaps and maybe nots and perhaps not. And by that I meant literally. He stopped after throwing those phrases with no further elaboration and expansion whatsoever. Hence the trauma. I had thought this would warrant a reply more sincere and long, if not entirely honest.

What a lousy fuck. I din risk throwing both face and friendship away just to hear such nonsense. I just want to know if it’s purely platonic!!! Then I can breathe. Then I can live again.

I repacked The Question, if just so to get something conclusive that would make me die and hate him forever.

Actually, whatever you had done with me, you could have just as easily done with anyone, right?

YES.

Good. That’s all I need to hear for a complete closure at my end since you can’t give me a decent answer after 4 bloody years. Closure is easy when you are utterly convinced he doesn’t like you. Nevermind the odd circumstances things get uttered. So long as you hang on to what he said and remind yourself you are too good for such shit, you can close.

He says he’s not going to be like that. He says things can change. He says who knows I will be friends with them both again. Yeah. Right. You don’t know how stubborn and proud I am, mister. Just like I have never known the real you.

I should have known better. To know nothing significant about someone after 4years, to have no real mutual friends, to be refused a direct answer when asking the simplest question (Hey, where are you working now/do you have classes/what are you doing later) just scream OI YOU SIAO AH! THIS GUY IS TOYING WITH YOU. IT’S NOT FUN, IT’S NOT NORMAL, IT’S NOT RIGHT! RUN WITH YOUR BRAIN AND HEART INTACT!!! SIAM AH!

He says he won’t end up like Po and The Other. Well, that’s really not up to you. You are ending up like them, I personally guarantee it.

*

I can’t believe what I just did. I closed it! I had my answer and he doesn’t feel anything for me. But it was very traumatic and I called Ruth and Shimin (in Melbourne) for release. I spent 6 hours with Shimin and I couldn’t sleep, so I’m blogging away in frustration and disbelief at my audacity to “end things”

The irony is, I’m walking the road of Pain and Trauma once more, in the same area, in two consecutive years, with a wholly different person.

Who’s worse, He or The Other?

Don’t Care. They are both the weakest link. Out. It’s Over. And when I say it’s over, it’s finished, finished, you get it!!!

*

The irony of ironies is that someone gave me a pair of male/female Mickey and Minnie plush dolls yesterday. I gave them to him when he asked if I had anything for him when things were still okay at Ann Siang Hill Park.

You can save them for your girlfriend/wife. My parting gift to you.

*

You said it’s your character, and you are like that. Fine.

I, The Depths of Shallowness, hereby declare I severe all ties with you henceforth.

30 Things 3 People Get At Last Night's Orgy

Throw 3 people who have known one another for over a decade (and who have not been in the current permutation of company for, also ironically and incredulously, probably a decade as well) into Brewerks and you will also get the following:

1) 2 jugs of Oktoberfest beer
2) 1 burger meal
3) 1 shepherd's pie meal
4) 1 platter of fish and chips
5) Another platter of calamari
6) Sex, sex, sex, sex, and more sex.
7) And sex.
8) And sex.
9) Sex infinite.
10) And in between rest from sex, some form of love, as true and pure as closest possible, when you get pseudo drunk enough and shake off the thinly veiled mock cynicism to reveal that we are just travellers on the same road on a doomed quest
11) plenty of water
12) real doubts
13) real fears
14) dream wisps
15) intimate talk, like we have never left and there were no years lost
16) delicious delirium for as long as it lasts - that it seems forever
17) mock elite speak - for we have three scholars - a on-my-way-to PhD one, a directing one, and a managing one (the last two involved in the historical merger)
18) taking turns to be smartie pants, each harbouring a professional interest in research science, film and cinematography, and philosophy respectively
19) wonderful, acerbic humour
20) honesty
21) assurance/security
22) one very sleeping/sleepy man and two flabbergasted women
23) money lost :)
24) fooling around
25) more sex, but of course. fetishes like bukkake, frottage, veins(which is not really a fetish by definition, since it's an object of desire and not an act of desire)
26) sex
27) fucked up futures
28) mind fucks
29) one very sick man 10 hs later
30) one very sick woman 10 hs later

MH, MX AND I ARE VERY SICK!!! ARE YOU ALSO GONE?

My voice has turned super low overnight. I'm coughing up vile greenish sticky stuff. MX also informed he's sick - apparently the beeeeeeer did his system a crushing blow. I think it's the beer batter and calamari that did my voice and whatever in.

It can't have been the sex and love hor, it ain't enough babes, there never can be enough to make us this sick.

Thanks for visiting my mum.

He Knows

Last Friday, out of impetuousity, I allowed the indulgence without my usual hesitation and left behind the confused, layered, profound analyses of what-ifs-if-I-sms-him-now-first. The one sms can do me a world of good, I figure, and so, why not. For He represents Desire and Distraction (and Delirium). Let me prod the cycle so that it may move viciously once more.

Me (even though I'm exhausted to death and I really can do without the excitement): Go out next week?

He (as coolly as it can be): That's possible...

Me: That's rather nice. 7 Oct and any day after should be good.

He: Let you know shortly...

This Monday ~

He: I'm doing research still...

Me: Can it take place at night?

He: Yes, it is at night. Is your mum at SGH or at the hospice already, and if so, which one?

* Now I've yet to tell him about the second operation, mind you. I only asked him which hospice is decent sometime back. Either I have to give him credit (not too much, for it's easy) for sleuthing and putting things together, or I have to suspect he reads my blog. Excuse me, you mean you have been quietly reading my blog all these while??!! Nay, don't think so. Lawyers will rather read money-making stuff, and what's more, he hates my (me) writing.

But that aside ~

Me: *she's back in hospital since her second op two week ago etc, something to the effect*

He: ok, just as well, cos venue is somewhere very near SGH...

Me: Is it a sheer coincedence that we are going there *asking the obvious perhaps, so he ignored me!!! so sad*? What are we doing?

He: Eat.

*Okay, uh-huh, like whatever*

Me: weekday/end?

He: Weekend or day...is to be confirmed...further research required...

*I'm used to it, unfazed, like totally. No longer tramatised or surprised by the mode of speak*

And just now ~

He: We fix it for Fri night. You can either meet me at some place in SGH itself, or at Outram MRT...6.30PM

*I pause, and pause, and pause*

Me: Meet in SGH?? Only if you are inviting for a visit to the ward. Else meet at Outram is ok.

*pause pause pause pause*

He: Ok then. Outram at 1830 hrs this Fri...

I start breathing again. That was almost scary.

Dedicated to MH And MX

I have been meaning to write this for some time.

The same day that I met Kah Beng in SGH KOPITIAM, Meihui smsed me , who was, incidentally and most coincedentally, Kah Beng's 4D classmate.

Meihui was also one of my favourite friends during secondary school years, as far as the term "favourite friends" embodies any intrinsic meaning and value for pseudo worldly-wise teenagers, who believe rather strongly that "we will always be together like this - friends forever!" Minxiu was also part of this group that we all *belonged* to. Yeah, camaraderie, brotherhood and sisterhood rule (as we rue now)!!!!. 或者，也许是最初的一厢情愿，但我的确这样认为过。Don't correct me if I'm wrong. It's part of a past I still think about fondly, even though the reality of it can be called into question. I miss the good bits, which was like the first couple of years.

But being in a group is tiring and rather tiresome, unless you really know the people (Like HL!!!). Eventually the group got too big for my liking and I, losing the connection and missing the connectivity, slowly drifted away.

The rest, I believe, stayed pretty much together (saved me!!), up to now.

Of course, there are some whom I'll like to keep in touch separately, but as usual, most hatefully, life and lethargy got into the way. We stay apart for so long that it becomes embarrassing to pick up from where we left (like where, where). And likewise, because we started very different paths, relationships no sooner pretty much degenerated into the equivalent of Hi-Bye friends.

Today, I welcome Meihui and Minxiu officially re-entering my life again.

Perhaps and probably, people never really leave, for absence precedes presence, and for the better and bad, they come back.

This was one of our then favourite KTV chorus-es:

朋友一生一起走 那些日子不再有
一句话一辈子一生情一杯酒
朋友不曾孤单过 一声朋友你会懂
还有伤还有痛还要走还有我

We din understand (much) then, even though we screamed with unbridled passion and enthusiasm into the microphone.

But more than a decade later, it is possible with regret and nostalgia that we whispered aloud, the lyrics, when we remember to sing again.

I still have the mental image of Minxiu humming 爱相随 to me in a classroom during sec 3.

岂是可以说说而已 因为有心 所以才有秘密

Announcements:

1) I'm down to my lowest weight count ever! Go me! I'm back at my inspiring I'll-finish-my-thesis-even-if-it-kills-me-doing-it weight, which means I've dropped a measly 2kg effortlessly through sheer indignation about the indignities in life. I'm not sure if it actually shows but it's motivation to let it fall further.

2) Very Good Hair Days are back with a vengence! Go, go , go (but where to??) The curls are finally growing out to a desired (and desirable) length, and they crown me most gloriously and glamourously. Which is a good thing, 'coz I'm hardly bothered with dressing up for the past week, even for work. So Hair becomes The Accessory. But starting coming week, I'll have to be even more good-looking and professional to redeem myself.

3.1) Why redeem myself? Argh. 'Coz I made a huge booboo at work and my boss was patient and kind about it. It was a horrible mistake and one so simple, it would make you scream. I managed to get the meeting time wrong and everyone at our end attended the meeting that day when it was next weeK. 'COZ I FIXED IT NEXT WEEK AND I DIN REALISE WHILE PREPARING FOR THE MEETING THAT DAY, THAT I WAS PREPARING FOR THE VERY SAME MEETING ONLY TO BE HELD NEXT WEEK. Of course it was a very empty, wasteful and embarrassing trip. And I'm sure some outsiders who met me for the first time that day think I'm just *DUH* for screwing the arrangement, and such a simple thing I can fuck up. You tell me!! I'm mortified myself. In the end, I was told to make some phonecalls outside while they discuss about separate issues that's meanwhile not-quite-my-business-yet but it's probably the corporate equivalent of the teacher sending the bad, bad student out of the class in exasperation. I'm most contrite and apologetic. Boss (and senior) were rather nice about the whole thing, even though they expressed incredulity and disbelief at my capability to pull off such a stunt. It's okay. I don't quite trust I could and dare to. But there you go. I did it! Boo me!

3.2) Despite all the funny and ridiculous scrapes I manage to get myself into, my department will like me to stay with them. I like them very much too and I take pride in my job (I've so got over the "co-ordinator" bit 'coz I realise even the GCEO terms his second most important man as "co-ordinator" so it can't be so horrifying. Basically, the term has been stripped of its unglam connotations for the time being), and I will be extremely happy to stay on. The only downer is a superficial one: I was looking forward to my namecard screaming "Trailer Producer, Me, Me, Me!!" But it's a superficial one, like I say, and I can take more pride in all the big projects I can be involved in. So, sorries to all my favourite ppl there, thanks for being generous and patient so as to take me under your motherly wings, and I won't disappoint!! You'll see me learning and improving all the time!

4) My mum is still staying in hospital. She's either in pain (moderate) or in pain (extreme). She wants to come home but it's better she's monitored a little longer first by medical professionals. She has a tube that's connected to the small intestines, that the small intestines need to adapt to feeding via that tube. It'll be a long term thing accompanying her by the side, so I certainly hope that it works, it has to. But her belly is now slightly engorged and distended. It better be just some getting used to to the foreign insertion instead of a true infection.

5) On Monday, Boss was remarking that some of her friends said that the Malay community din like that show. All tongue-in-cheek, I quipped the crazy line that he had said the week before when the ad came out. Boss stared at me for a while, and went: My goodness, that's it! Needless to say, I'm rather amused. It's times like this that I think he's so great. He has the (nutty)sensibility and I have the sense of humour. Do we make a great pair, or what.

Now on to my To-Do Things ASAP:

1) Demand for a reassessment of my fairness at M.A.C I suspect they sold me a foundation that's a shade too light!!

2) Get two new pairs of jeans.

3) Buy more great clothes (actually that's always ongoing, so nevermimd).

4) Make sure I stay how I am or lose more weight so that I can fit into my nice dress for someone's church in late October.

5) Repair earring - the hook broke :(

6) Be on the lookout for more pretty shoes.

7) See Kaile (we did agree to meet on 9th oct, yes?)

8) See him, if only to be sure there's still a measure of incommensurability and immutability in the world. I rock my world but he keeps it steadfastly anchored in miserable reality.

9) Write my Chinese romances?

I want to watch Vanity Fair, 2046 and The Edge of Reason!!

Why I Am So Cool

While I’m sure that people mean well in general, I find the question: How come you are so calm/collected/cool/controlled and whatever variations they come in, to be rather rude in the current situation I find myself in, and insinuating, to say the least.

Impossible to answer, and really, why should I?

A simple and honest reply will read that I am repressed. T’is true, for want of a better something. It’s freaking rare that I display any major sign of emotions when faced with real trauma, that I know.

But meanwhile, am I supposed to cry silently or sob loudly when it happens and news is broken? The sheer contemplation of it just clogs up any tear ducts I have. I’m very self-conscious about tears.

*

Simple words fall spectacularly flat and apart. Others (even close friends) let you down by managing to say all the wrong things at all the wrong times, and by failing to see the darkness in the tunnel. The light will go out, stupid!

You somehow cling on to the memory of a clandestine serenity someone offers, in his stillness and silence, which no longer speaks stagnancy to you.

You just want to. Basking in the spectre of something familiar, comforting and assuring, it’s the feeling of being safe again that you craved.

And he’s real, truly so, and you will belong to each other for a short while, after which, life will go on, when someone leaves and another dies.

*

Next to myself, he’s the most blasé (and repressed) creature I have ever met, in the unflappable sense, perhaps more so than me. Which makes it easier and harder.

But he’ll make things right by being wrong, which makes all the difference now.