Wednesday, January 31, 2007
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Today was an interesting day. Today being defined within the time frame of 00 00 to currently 18 34. I see a monster in the mirror, and I start to wonder why it looks just like me. I see transformations in people whom I thought I knew, conforming and distorting into some
thing I see in disgust everyday. I'm in slight pity, for its plight is one of shame and utter sorry.
While waiting for a friend at today, I was happily playing Sonic the Hedgehog with Jackson amongst the usual harrowing scene at Orchard MRT Station. I appeared occupied enough to be left alone, but again, appeared too free to be left undisturbed. Just as I was discovering this never-taken-before route in my little game, some guy with a scar near his right eye approached me, asking me to buy a pen
which-seemed-like-any-other-pen-but-in-fact-every-pen-I-purchase-I'm-
actually-helping-some- unfortunate-kid-out-there. So being in a very generous yet strangely dao mood, I nodded politely, giving faint smiles now and then, listening to him intently while he tried his best to get his job done. Of course, I bought a pen. I have to comment that he was a very polite boy. After I resumed to my game, I was again approached by this girl obviously doing a post O level job, asking me to join some media ad thing because they need new faces. So I just gave her my name and number and acted as if I really wanted to join. It was then it suddenly hit me. I was being attacked. Like flies devouring the remains of a carcass. I wouldn't have been surprised if someone asked me to do a survey next. So I left that cursed land and headed down to Dhoby Ghaut to meet my friend instead.
It's entertaining to be at Orchard Road by yourself for a while. You get to eavesdrop on people's conversations, laugh (silently) at the most "happening" or un-happening outfits, and just observe everyone around you - how some look so insecure, somehow vaguely like yourself.
Being one of
them seems so easy, so easy to fit in and enjoy life while you can, so easy to include a vulgarity in every other sentence, so easy to pick up a cigarette and walk down Orchard Road as if its named after you. I wonder why I'm not part of it. Then I remember. But then again..
Stricken with the one of worst cases of the un-mutated influenza, I didn't go for training today, in fear of suddenly convulsing in a series of coughs. Coughs which sound like a car engine that cannot be started. My blocked nose hinders breathing, I'd seriously die running up that immaculate hill near the hostel. Since I wasn't planning on such a kind of death, I decided to follow my Doctor's advice. Thank you, Doctor.
tried to hunch; 6:33 PM
