Archive for October, 2006

Argh ..

Friday, October 27th, 2006

It’s so trivial, missing him. There are a billion other things to think about, and I’m thinking about him. Pointless, inane, pointless, silly, stupid, pointless and TRIVIAL. I hate him. I hate those memories. I hate melancholia. I hate hating the fact that I can’t ever bring myself to hate him because I simply want to loathe him but I cannot do it. The heart detaches itself from the mind and breaks itself into molecules.
There’s a lifetime to live. I need to live it. By jove, I need to live it. I can’t bloody live it if I don’t leave him behind with the rest of the kipple. So do I delete these memories? But they’re so fond .. so endearingly dear. It’s just a button away and he’ll be gone. I’m loathe to do it. I want to carry him around. He’s the sort of ache that makes you can’t breathe for a while. But I do love self-mutilation of the mind. Nobody can see them scars.
The pain is intoxicating.

A compendium of mamak-speak, part one.

Thursday, October 26th, 2006

Out of boredom, I compiled a list of expressions we use during our nightly outings.

1. ‘Do a Dan’ :- to tilt the head back, inflate the nostrils, scrunch up the face and say ‘C’monnnnnnnnnnnnn’ - eg. Adam did a Dan when he found out that they weren’t going to the beach anymore.
2. ‘Be a mandy’ :- nasty bitch (i mean it affectionately, of course. i pray to god she doesn’t read my blog) - eg. Amanda’s being such a mandy lately.
3. ‘fuckable’ (adj) :- being fuck worthy - eg. Amanda’s totally hot and fuckable.
4. ‘Englishable’ :- being able to comprehend and speak good English - eg. Adam is searching for a girl who is not only beautiful, but Englishable as well.
5. ‘Do a jillian’ :- to say ’stopit stopit stopit’ repetitiously with a pained expression on face - eg. Amanda did a jillian to discourage Adam from teasing her.
6. ‘Apple’ (n) :- a prostitute - eg. Adam is into apples.
7. ‘Durian’ (n) :- a nasty (and highly possibly male) prostitute - eg. If Adam is not careful with his apples, he might end up with a durian.
8. ‘Drive like a Chong’ :- to drive like a demon with all your mates in the car (screaming).

And here’s the ultimate …

9. ‘a Julia’ :- an extremely smart, charming, witty, beautiful, eloquent, articulate and fashionable girl who might resemble me in the slightest - eg. Beautiful Amanda is on her way to becoming a Julia.

End of part one.

OUCH!

Saturday, October 21st, 2006

I tell ya, it’s the funniest shit I saw in ages. We was at Coffee Bean, yeah. And this guy, he just walked straight into the glass door. Didn’t slow down or nothing. Just went WHAM into it. He was walking quite fast, mind you. Jillian (or was it her sister or her cousin) said that the guy shouted ‘OH!’ He left his oil spot on the glass door. But man, was it loud. Like PHOMMM zwang (sound of his rebound).
But DAMN .. there was this silence after his mishap. Total absolute frickin’ perfect silence. Then .. like a grating saw .. sniggers ERUPTED everywhere. Goddam I’m still laughing as I write this.
Hot damn .. I feel sorry for the fella. I mean, there he is, just made the boo boo of the century, and here and there hot chicks (like myself) are laughing at him. If I were him I would’ve just sat there and laughed my balls off. If that was me, it wouldn’t have been an OH you’d hear, but the loudest ‘FUCKSHITPISSCUNTCRAP’ you ever heard.
Which reminds me of a joke. This guy, Abdullah, is in the market. And thinking that no one would hear, he let rip a fart. Turned out to be the loudest goddam fart in history. Killed a donkey and made a camel deaf. So to escape the embarrasment, he left the town. After many years of living as a hermit, he decided to pay his hometown a visit. He thought that, you know, after so many years, people would’ve forgotten about it. As he entered the town, he saw that so much had changed. Houses were torn down, new buildings erected, etc etc. He couldn’t find anyone he knew before. ‘Good sign,’ thought he. Meant that all those who knew about the incident weren’t around anymore. So happily, he walked to the market, tapped a guy on the shoulder and asked, ‘Hullo sir! May I ask, what is the date today?’
To which the guy replied, ‘It is the sixth day of the fifth month of the sixteenth year since Abdullah farted the great one.’
Come on. Laugh, damn you. It’s funny.

Unbelievable.

Friday, October 13th, 2006

Went to collect my plane tickets today. Never thought that I’d see the day I’d collect my very own tickets. Finally, it’s my turn to have my own little MSL yellow envelope thing. I’m exhilarated. It be just for six months, but nevertheless, six months. Pretty goddam triumphant when I was walking out of the place.
Next on my list: renew my passport and get that goddam visa.

More random thoughts.

Thursday, October 12th, 2006

I was at a restaurant today and I saw a woman come in with her caucasian boyfriend, and I thought to myself, ‘my blue eyes is better looking than that guy.’ Then I made myself wonder why I thought that, because my blue eyes isn’t even mine. Why did I think that? Laying claim to a person who isn’t .. well .. mine.
I’ve been talking to myself a lot. Too much for comfort. Loudly. I talk to myself when I think that no one’s at home. Usually no one’s at home, but I know that one day I’ll assume too much and talk to myself loudly and someone comes by and they’d think that I’m a loony. I believe that that’s the extent of my narcissistic tendencies. I love to hear my own voice so much that I began talking to myself. Conclusion: I’m not loony (not yet, anyhow), just extremely narcissistic.
Death depresses me. Suicide depresses me even more. When I hear of suicide stories, it makes me gloomy (you won’t know it, but I do get gloomy) for a few days. But I think that the effect lasts longer than that in my subconscious. Way longer than a few days. Really freaks me one good, it does.
I also suddenly realised that that guy in my class, he’s really, really cute. I NEED BALLS, MAN. I NEED TO PICK UP THE GODDAM COURAGE AND SAY HELLO TO HIM GODDAMIT.

Trying to say what I mean.

Sunday, October 8th, 2006

Listening to The Pixies’ ‘Where is my mind,’ I find that I miss talking to him. If he still reads my blog, he’d know immediately that I’m talking about him. So there. Step One of trying to say what I mean.
Thing is, if he could forget what happened, all that happened, if I could forget those things, then things would go back to the way they were. I don’t know if he has the same capacity for forgetting as I do. Step two: check.
Some things were never meant to happen. They should never, ever happen. Insert another ‘never’ to accentuate the severity of that sentence. Things usually go bad. I don’t know why. It’s one of those unfathomable mysteries.
I have no idea why I’m writing this. Maybe it’s an explanation that’s long overdue. Maybe I’m trying to clear my conscience. We are after all selfish creatures, aren’t we? I’m just short of saying your name here. I’m sorry that things turned out the way they did. I miss talking to you. But there’s where the missing ends.
Step three: check.

in the water, see it swimming

Aghast! aghast!

Tuesday, October 3rd, 2006

The Star, Monday 2nd October had this article in the Singapore section. Two articles, matter of fact. One on top of the other. First one was how Singaporean men had difficulty finding local wives and had to resort to foreign women - foreign meaning Vietnamese and I would believe Indochinese women through match-making agencies. Second article was about how the number of women marrying foreign men has risen since last year - foreign meaning white men, western men, men with fair skin, of European origin.
So. When did this distinction come about, eh. No other type of ‘foreign’ men were included in the article. God knows how many women married foreign men of other countries, other colour. Pakistani, anyone? Maybe Middle Eastern. Indonesian. Are they not freaking foreigners to Singapore too? If you read the article, you’d see that the only type of foreign men mentioned are white men. I’m quite baffled as to why there was no mention, not even hints, of men of other colour except bleached. The impression I get of Singaporean women from this is that they are shallow prawn-brained shits (blame the article, not me) who would chase after a white foreign man if the opportunity presented itself rather than settle with a local because of the age-old ‘Oh, Asian men aren’t as romantic as Western men.’ Might be true, but then again is romance what most Asian women are really looking for? Face it, values differ from place to place. On such a tiny island as Singapore, it couldn’t possibly differ to the extent of women wanting to impersonate Hollywood damsels and men wanting a woman who would be more comfortable living a century and a half ago. Wake up and smell the beans. Keanu Reeves is Keanu Reeves for a reason. He gets paid for being romantic in The Lake House. Highly, too. Women are more than personal maids. We be nice to you if you be nice to us, we demand respect and gratitude when we massage your feet and bear your children, bla bla bla. Bah. Singaporeans.
Since when did race matter anyhow if they advocated such liberal, equal rights. Why is there even an article about how many Singaporean women married white foreign men. Asia News Network, bloody &*#*@^@^* cunts. If you want to give statistics, then give a more truthful unbiased report. Not this piece of shit.
Agree with me. These men who resort to match-making agencies are unable to find a local woman (REGARDLESS OF RACE, be it Malay, Chinese, Indian, etc.) maybe due to work, due to ugliness (then again, beauty is in the eye of the beholder and so on and so forth), incompatibility, no pursuing spirit or whatever fucking reason they have to order a bride. Most of the men in this match-making agency hoo-ha want a submissive slave woman. ‘More demure and accomodating,’ quoth I. I have no qualms about that. If that’s their piece of heaven, then so be it. Whatever. No hassle of courtship. No disappointments. I can understand that. Even if the bride does not speak the same language, there’s always body language to fall back on. Conclusion: Singaporean women are bitches and all Singaporean men should look beyond their shores for companionship? Whatever again.
What irks me is how the second article laid out foreign as white. Every single example was of an American or an Australian or a Brit or what-have-you. The rest of the world, to the writer, disappeared into darkness. The rest of married foreign men who aren’t white simply do not exist. If you were an alien from Chubchub reading that particular article, you’d think that foreign = white. Christ, even mainland Chinese would be foreign to Singapore. Taiwanese, Korean, Japanese, whatever shade of yellow you can find would still be foreign. Black, purple, brown, green.
So why. Why do agencies pay for this kind of subtle but nevertheless racist crap.