PART A
sorry grace, didn’t feel like writing another chapter yet. wait
on =p
will just go on another senseless rambling.
saw her online just now, so I decided to embark on a cruel experiment –
cruel to myself.
hypothesis: if I don’t message her, she won’t message me.
(ed: this is
bordering on neurotic… I’m taking a single “icq”
messaging behaviour to mean too much I know)
duration of experiment: one hour.
results: hypothesis proven true.
so I conclude, after all my efforts these years, she sees me as not more
special than anyone else. maybe she just doesn’t like
to say hi to anyone online, but I find her online behaviour most depressing… to
me at least. she doesn’t say hi, and when I do pluck
up enough skin thick enough to say hi first, I get met with a cold hi in reply.
with nothing else to carry the conversation further. and when I try to make small talk, she gives replies that
are excellent examples of closed answers. yes, no.
full stop. and those replies come after a long time –
close to a million years.
maybe we’re seeing each other too often to need to talk. both
online and on the phone.
I do realise talking on the phone’s an
excellent way to draw closer ties, but I get the feeling she doesn’t want to
talk long whenever I call her (which is rare enough already). perhaps I’ve got to make a compromise – between seeing her
often and talking to her on the phone. meet her, go
out with her once every few days, or talk to her every night on the phone. which one’s better?
this sense of demoralisation’s dragging me down. starting
to get more and more depressed whenever I think about her. which
is almost always. I think of her immediately when I see the water coolers in
her faculty’s down – will she get thirsty? yet I don’t want to look a clown by asking her to meet me
for me to pass her some water. heh.
stupid thing to mention on a blog.
deduct fifty bloggerite
points.
I don’t wish to do anything more already.
think I’m starting to get tired of all the unrequited
commitment I’ve put in. tired. mentally. physically. heh,
even financially. and her birthday’s one week from
now. should I carry on with my plans to do something
special for her, or just treat her birthday like any other? there’s
always this fear that everything will be unappreciated. the
specialness seen as something mundane, nothing
special.
have no idea.
decided to switch my train of thought.
PART B
Requiem for the dead.
been sort of inundated with news of people passing away these few days. ok, perhaps two are a bit too little to describe as
inundating, but it’s still two too many.
went to an ex-army instructor’s funeral wake last week. he
committed suicide by jumping off a building, said to be because of money
problems. just feel that I have to pay some tribute to
him for his role in shaping my character.
he was a typically atypical instructor. temperamental,
easily switching between the roles of the ideal welfare-oriented instructor, to
that of the unreasonable torturing devil. yet I remember
the angel side of him more often. then, he was new to
cadet school, only recently being posted there to take on the role of our
assistant platoon commander. as apc,
he spent lots of time with us, telling us all the standard operating
procedures, educating us in the military doctrines, and pointing out the finer
aspects of being an officer and a
gentleman. I especially remember him for his emphasis on our grooming. he
never let us off should he see any face unshaven, any boot blemished by mud,
any long fingernail, often imposing punishments that we felt were too heavy and
unreasonable.
yet I believed that shaped my character, our characters. it
hardened us as men. taught us the value of silent
endurance. endurance despite our unwillingness to
comply, despite our hatred of what’s being done to us. taught
us that sometimes, shit does happen, and that there’s nothing we can do about
it but to weather it as best as we can, and come out of it stronger than
before.
and he was part of that teaching process. lieutenant
ricky, I salute you for that.
then there was cantopop star leslie
cheung. heh.
almost my namesake. not
exactly someone I know, but I found his songs to be nice. and
his life, ah, an enigma. something I always appreciate
in famous people. perhaps that’s why I like people
such as him and michael
turns out that leslie cheung’s
bisexual. and admittedly happy with it. (which just reinforces my observation that gay people are
really happy people, usually without much cares in the world seemingly. that’s
why I thought I should turn gay too). but the main
thing is he sings great. and acts great too. lots of feelings poured into whatever he does.
and he jumped off a building because of alleged love troubles.
stunned all his fans. touching to see how well-loved
he was. and there were even news that one of his fans
jumped off a building too upon hearing his death. the
things people do out of love for someone they might not even know.
with lta ricky, it’s
brought the number of non-family people I personally know who passed away to
three. two lost to suicide, one lost to an accident. I
hope the count stays at that. it’s really enough, more
than enough death for someone whose existence has barely hit two decades to
bear. death’s always depressing, but hey, mine will
get my family richer by at least $200,000. and
probably save quite a few people with the (hopefully) healthy organs I have. but don’t worry, I’m not thinking about that; I won’t be so
silly to do such stuff. just curiously wondering the
consequences should I just leave one day. who’ll be
the ones crying hard? who’ll be the ones nonchalant? who’ll be the ones unable to sleep because they fear I’d go
back to haunt them? who’ll be the ones rejoicing?
we won’t ever know, would we?
dejectium out
0041
hrs gmt +8