Of lost guides

Aah ... It seems you can take one out of Maudlin City but you can't take the city out of one's mind.

Would it that I could divest myself of this slow malaise that forever bites and nibbles at my consciousness. To beg for it to leave me with some semblance of peace. Or sanity, if it is not too much to ask. Alas, my cries for reprieve falls on deaf and uncaring ears ... for needs must to survive, and what is one frail mortal against the world?

I look to the sky last night, uncaring that I was traversing the busy streets of KL. Around me the hustle and bustle of a city that defiantly refuses to be ignored clamored for my attention: hawkers stridently call out for customs, stalls waft with teasing smells of delectable repasts. But no, my eyes are locked on the heavens, trying to look beyond the clouds scudding across my vision; trying to look beyond my self anchored to this material plane.

We may be sparks of the divine, breathed into life by the Supreme Maker -- given thoughts independent of outside influence, save those of our own allowance and making. But last night I felt so insignificant and lost. The silver disk of Selene mocks me with her absence and the heavens refused my sight. 

Of asinine statements

We’ve had encounters where we had to sit through another’s display of idiocy. At times, we’re guilty of the same pratfalls. But of course, since I’m on my soapbox I’m not going to talk about myself. I believe others could relieve me that particular chore.

Below is an example of choice statements that make me wonder at the speakers’ state of mind – and if English is in fact, their first language!

1.        “I can never be unfaithful to my mistress.” Maybe his mistress’ name is Diane de Poitiers.

2.       “I’m half in love with you.” That makes as much sense as saying "I'm somewhat dead" or "I'm kinda pregnant!"

3.       “It’s not cheating on my girlfriend.” Pause. “I just let a guy give me a blowjob.” His friends should get him a dictionary for his next birthday.

4.       “I’d never kiss a girl who smokes.” Speaker is someone who is very into rimming. That certainly puts things in perspective, doesn’t it?

5.        “People can’t tell I’m gay.” Speaker is wearing a (too) tight T-shirt, rainbow stickers on his car, and the ‘tell-all’ earring. Geez, deluded much?

6.       “He gave my syphilis!” Speaker is in a loving relationship with a swinger couple. Like, d’uh!

7.        “She was asking for it!” Speaker was referring to a rape victim – who has a penchant for short skirts. If she’s in a bikini, she’d be the Whore of Babylon, I suppose.

8.       “If you can’t escape it, just sit back and enjoy it.” Speaker was referring to rape victims. I just can’t muster enough snark for this one.

And no, I assure you these are not figments of my (often hyper-active) imagination. Nor are they translations from my native Malay. These are statements I’m quoting directly from people – and in context! People I’ve had the fortune to encounter. And yes, I meant fortune ironically.

Of course, two of my favourites are numbers 2 and 3. I’m sure depending on the reader – or listener, as the case could be! – others might be their choice for contributions to the Darwin Awards.

As mentioned, the statement "I'm half in love with you" makes as much sense as saying "I'm somewhat dead" or "I'm kinda pregnant" and just as idiotic. And whilst we're on the subject of idiocy -- a bigger idiot (that would make him/her a moron, wouldn’t it?) would be the person who falls for that kind of drivel. Talk about clutching at straws!

After numerous times experiencing these particular displays in stupidity, whenever such statements present themselves I usually just pursed my lips, elicit a  “Hmmm, interesting” reply and promptly removed myself. Although it has yet to be proven scientifically, stupidity might be catching.

"12 February"

Two days before it starts. Hello, love. How are you? People buy flowers and give them away. Love bought and sold. Cheap.

Children exchange kisses. Adolescents exchange their innocence. Adults exchange more in the privacy of their bedroom.

Your place or mine?

Love. A four-letter word. So's fuck. Or kill. Or dead for that matter.

Of VD and Misery

"If life is a bed of roses I have but one request: throw me among the thorns, allow me to feel the pain of falling. Let me be hurt so I know what healing feels like. Let me know that I can still bleed; that I'm neither frozen nor unmoving. Let me feel alive again."

That was what I had written once.

I was 18. I was in college. I was young and – looking back with eyes that had seen twelve monsoons – one would be tempted to say that I was puffed up on youthful arrogance. It had never dawned on my shallow adolescent mind that there are such things as a self-fulfilling prophecy. I was young still after all, and with the typical faith that the forces behind the system would side with us. Somebody’s always someone’s meal ticket.

Ah, the foolishness of youth. Wasted wastage of wisdom gathered the hard way. Bitter pills to swallow and all that.


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

Valentine’s Day holds a different meaning to me ever since 2001. Someone dear to me passed away on that day and I could never look at the date on the calendar without feeling a surge of impotent rage at the life taken away from me.

Perhaps it just wasn’t meant to be.

After the rage quelled itself, then the sorrow will come and often at times during the days leading to, or past VD I would replay the cherished moments we managed to share. That’s all that I have left.

People have oft told me that ten years is much too long a time to be spent mourning for someone. I would usually spitefully spat back that they weren’t the ones with loss, guilt, regret and rage churning in their heads. Then of course, the remorse at biting the hand that attempted to succour me will come and I’ll bashfully apologise. Yet again.

It’s becoming quite predictable that it becomes sickening.

Maybe it’s time to break out the razors and start back to cutting. But that’s another story.

Of insults and offenses

Alright. I've been wallowing in Maudlin City for some time now and I found cloying sweetness to be ... well, cloying.

Don't get me wrong, being overly sentimental to the point of having your personality reduced to the consistency of an overboiled potato does have its perks. You get to wax lyrical about love and sunshine whilst people indulgently pat your hand and welcome you to to the lane of mediocrity that the general human race inhabits.

I've found that I have become too lenient nowadays that most transgressions have been overlooked and let slipped by me. And that should not be in the first place.
I say, screw it! Yes, the bastard is back! Say hello to the Intransigent, because I'm setting up home.