I Waited

I waited.
Breath bated.
For a bait.
A bed.
Feelings that fail to abate. 
Only exacerbate.
I waited.
In vain.

Words

Take the words
Chew them up 

Wet with scorn.

Spit them back
Black with dread
Covered in webs.

Words mangled 

I lie here entangled.

Salut

Looking back on the previous posts, an inexorable truth comes to mind. As the years pass, I post less.

Not out of any conscious effort to abstain from doing so. In fact, the opposite may probably be so. A general sense of lethargy, the mind numbing impact of work and the simple dearth of desire would probably explain the silence.

I've always believed blogging should be cathartic. The freedom to say what you want, when you want within the usual confines of the law etc etc. Which we all know as far as our little red dot is concerned covers the usual taboo areas of politics, race and to a smaller extent religion. None of which interest me much.

Life's too serious and tedious with work and mundane, nagging problems like what to have for lunch or when your stupid ass bills are due to be concerned/ want to be concerned about the above. But the general lack of impetus to blog or the need to discuss, rant or muse has played a part. Not to mention the instant gratification of other social media platforms like FaceBook or Path for a quick, dumbed down version of a rant or muse. Not quite as substantive and cathartic as a leisurely, measured blog post but instant. Much like a quickie, instant release then swiftly forgotten.

Which in some ways mirrors the current state of affairs in my personal life. We all want to settle down, to find that special someone to share your life with. But things can never be rushed and if you know that guy you're seeing now or you previously had the hots for is uncommitted or simply incompatible, be merciful. Remove that tumor of doubt, he's never going to commit. You'll never be compatible. Save yourself and him the time and trouble of a failed courtship or the inevitable emotional roller coaster ride that accompanies such courtships.

Carnal creatures as we are, our gut instincts honed over milennia of assessing suitable mates (be it purely for physical release or something more substantial) are often perversely right on the basest most primal levels of attraction.

I've been partying hard. More so than I have for quite while. Done a few bat shit crazy ass stuff. Made quite a few new yet steadfast friends. Kindred souls with a knack for fun in the company of like minded individuals without the inclination or need to judge. Sometimes, I'm tired of engaging intellectual conversations or clever ripostes. Sometimes, I just want to be a dumb bitch, laugh at stupid things and have a good time. At the end of the day, it's the company and the friends and principles you stand by that count.

Settling down is still the goal but like all good things it can't be forced or rushed. I'm tired of guys who can't commit, give excuses for their failings. Whackos who chase with a single minded vengeance then go berserk when you tell them that getting to know each other better may be a better idea than attempting to get into your pants (which to be fair is still an enjoyable idea sometimes). Exes who message that they miss you and have as much EQ and empathy as a sociopath.

Is it that hard to find a decent guy? For now, I'm happy with friends and stuff I enjoy. Won't say no to the occasional hot fuck though ;)

Leave ya with Lights by Ellie Goulding. 33 weeks and still No. 2 on the charts. Don't forget to turn the lights off when you're done. ;)

"Lights"

I had a way then losing it all on my own
I had a heart then but the queen has been overthrown
And I'm not sleeping now the dark is too hard to beat
And I'm not keeping now the strength I need to push me

You show the lights that stop me turn to stone
You shine It when I'm alone
And so I tell myself that I'll be strong
And dreaming when they're gone

'Cause they're calling, calling, calling me home
Calling, calling, calling home
You show the lights that stop me turn to stone
You shine It when I'm alone

Home

Noises, I play within my head
Touch my own skin and hope that I'm still breathing
And I think back to when my brother and my sister slept
In an unlocked place the only time I feel safe

You show the lights that stop me turn to stone
You shine it when I'm alone
And so I tell myself that I'll be strong
And dreaming when they're gone

'Cause they're calling, calling, calling me home
Calling, calling, calling home
You show the lights that stop me turn to stone
You shine it when I'm alone

Home

Yeah, hee

Light, lights, lights, lights
Light, lights, lights, lights
Light, lights, lights, lights
Light, lights

You show the lights that stop me turn to stone
You shine it when I'm alone
And so I tell myself that I'll be strong
And dreaming when they're gone

'Cause they're calling, calling, calling me home
Calling, calling, calling home
You show the lights that stop me turn to stone
You shine it when I'm alone

Home, home
Light, lights, lights, lights
Light, lights, lights, lights

Home, home
Light, lights, lights, lights
Light, lights, lights, lights

Home, home
Light, lights, lights, lights
Light, lights, lights, lights

Home, home
Light, lights, lights, lights
Light, lights, lights, lights

Juxtaposition

Funny how rearranging a couple of words in a single sentence can convey a meaning so different from its original form. Some times the difference is striking, often it is subtle but upon further analysis no less different. Perhaps sometimes even more, given the subtle but profound nuances that convey shades of meanings not initially revealed at first glance.

Take the phrase 'Nothing with you is forever' and juxtapose that with 'Nothing is forever with you.' At first glance, the former may appear more pleasing to the eye. More grammatically correct. But the two are different, convey different meanings. Subtle changes most clearly seen from the difference in emphasis and the implicit nuances arising from such a swap.

And you realise that the latter is of no less merit than the former. For what is conveyed is different and neither sentence is a perfect replacement for the other.

But not all words and their meanings or combined nuances change in the reshuffled sentence. Most do not. Some in fact are limited by the very nature of the word. After all, how many meanings/inflections can one impute to a word like 'not'? The word 'Nothing' and its meaning remains constant in both sentences.

Nothing with you is forever. That, to my mind at least, emphasises the words 'with you'. Nothing remaining nothing, the nuances and impression conveyed is that 'nothing (I do/feel/think about) with you is forever'. Everything is temporal, transient. Like a passing breeze.

The emotions evoked are one of mild wistfulness, resignation and grudging acceptance of the seeming demise of a futile dream. A negative connotation, realistic, even pragmatic to an extent but sad nonetheless.

Then look at Nothing is forever with you. The emphasis this time to my mind appears to be on 'is forever'. Not to say the term 'with you' is unimportant or secondary. The emphasis is on the terms 'is forever' and the words with you follow after.

Just like the flesh is formless without the bones but fleshes it out and makes it whole, so too does the emphasis set the skeleton for the phrase with 'with you' fully defining the phrase thereafter.

'Nothing is forever' with you. And the nuances conveyed, the impression given is that nothing, the things we do, you say, we think, I feel, we express when with you is forever, constant, unchanging, fixed in stasis. It evolves, grows, changes with time, commitment and our actions. Where and how they will develop is anyone's guess but ours to decide.

We could talk of more permutations. Of how a single comma could paint the phrase a toxic taint of cynicism. (Nothing, is forever with you) Or from further rearrangements, construct an aloof observation (With you, nothing is forever).

But that was never the aim of this soliloquy.

And what's certain is:

Nothing is forever with you. Forever is nothing without you.

Repulsive regret.

Having moved on, I thought the selfish brat of the ex, as the last one shall henceforth be known, would have gone on with his life without a care in the world save for the usual bemoaning of how stupid the world is and the alleged idiots at his work place in particular. Sleep, Self, Work with the occasional Sex thrown in (on his terms) really defined his life. I was wrong.

Apparently Brat was emo the other day, posted some msg on his Facebook stating that he 'was still in love with (you)'. Got a semi excited message from a mutual friend, who meant well I'm sure, God bless her soul, alerting me to the same and proclaiming that she thought he, the Brat, was referring to me. Like I said, I'm sure she meant well knowing how much angst the tumultous relationship and subsequent breakup caused me.

Not that it mattered, he's history and there's very much someone special in the picture now. ^^. But I did message him a friendly message, enquiring which of his paltry past loves he was pining for once again in keeping up with his self-requested wish that we continued to remain friends after the breakup because 'I was a very nice person'. A masquerade that was wearing thin as a result of his idiocy, propensity to block me on whatsapp for no reason whatsoever and generally treat me in a manner you would not treat an acquaintance, let alone a friend.

His reply as usual was retarded. Reticient, bordering on the insolent. A short, curt 'Y u curious?' followed by a dismissive 'No.' and a 'Aiya anyway none of your concern la.' So when I replied with a short terse message that basically went yes it was none of my business but friends just talk in general and if he was going to be a jackass, he could take his so called request for friendship and screw it. That he'd always be single if he wasn't going to change and start thinking about his future partner for a change. And if he still pined for this lover of his, he should go for him but not ever find another as a substitute.

I was rewarded with a single no. 'Nobody no substitute.' And 5 mins later, because often when we were together getting a coherent, non-one word reply from him was often like winning the lottery, he asked 'So wad if I say is you?'. I wanted this sickening man to be honest with his feelings, to say what he could post on facebook but would never be honest about, so I replied 'Dun say wad if, say it if it is and I will tell you'. Fully intending to tell him when he did, that it was too little too late, I'd moved on, found someone who truly appreciated me and that he should seriously think about the other party and not just himself in a relationship.

Of course, I never got to say all that because he inexplicably (well perhaps not surprising thus far given his retarded attitude and behaviour) blocked me that very next minute after that single reply I sent. Which of course cheesed me off no end. I've moved on sure. But seriously wtf?? Such rude, recalcitrant and totally reprehensible conduct is simply mind boggling. And it annoyed me for at least 1/2 a day while on my holiday. Unforgivable.

What do u say to someone too rude to reply, too reluctant to be honest to his own feelings, too ready to give excuses, too random to analyse, too reticient to care, too rigged to lie and ultimately too repulsive to bear?

Nothing. And so I won't.

My only regret now is having wasted 4 months of my life, money, sweat and tears on this repulsive, gutless man who can't even be honest with his feelings and blames everyone but himself, and not moving on earlier. I know I've said before anger is an excellent purgative but a poor restorative. But believe me, right now, purging this Brat out of my life has never felt better.

Rotten to the Core

You weren't very promising to begin with.

Spiky on the outside, hard, unyielding, forbidding.With just the faintest hint of the fragrance within.
A heady, intoxicating mix, at once overpowering yet fragrant. The allure of the flesh therein.
So I tore my flesh from rending that skin, bloodied my hands on those treacherous spikes.
Just because I believed there was something worth the pain within.

Then delving deep inside, through the layers of spike, I saw at last the sought for sight.
Golden, yellow, creamy delight.
But the flesh was more bitter than sweet. It even made me weep.
Yet still I ate, confident that sweeter flesh did await.
But the seed I saw, was black and hollow to the core.

For you repaid trust with deceit, loyalty with disdain, support with scorn.
And I shall never partake of such fruits again.

Soliloquy

"Na" he said. Pushing a large black Mont Blanc paper bag at me without so much as the de riguer niceties. He was almost an hour late, no apologies, no explanations. But this was his SOP, the man I'd dated, the one who proposed and the face I'd addressed as 'Dear' for slightly over 4 months.

An impassive countenance that masked unfathomable thoughts. A face alien in its familiarity.

"Where you wanna go?" he quipped. "Weren't you supposed to have made plans?" I queried, that sinking feeling that often came hard on the heels of one of the many, many lows in our relationship setting in. He had none. "Let's go Orchard." came the monologue. And that was that. It'd always been the case for most of our relationship, him wanting to do something, eat something, watch something at his time, his convenience and of his liking. Inexplicably, I caved most of the time. At the risk of sounding like a corny old romantic, such is the power of love. No other logical reason to explain why an otherwise perfectly rational person (i.e. me) would not have thrown a bitch fit or let him have it as some of the previous ex-es (alas) experienced when they crossed the line.

Tonight was scant difference despite the change in status of the relationship. Apart from the choice of cuisine, everything went according to (his) plan. Dinner venue, dishes ordered, aimless, futile window shopping. Right down to his clockwork smoke breaks. I hated it. Yet I remained an obedient, silent follower to the imposed routine. With nary a thought of protest, a prisoner of my basest, most subliminal emotions. Emotions palpable in intensity, impossible to elucidate yet impossible to ignore. While the seat of reason and thought cries out stridently to abort, reject and terminate. Cries lost in the maelstrom of turbulent sorrow.

While he was at the gents, I sneaked a peak. At the mini complimentary gift card that inevitably accompanies such gifts. "Dear XX" it began.

"Happy Birthday & Best Wishes.

YY"
A cold clinical message in small neat italicized handwriting I always found so at odds with his rough, unpolished even halting manner of speech. No 'love YY', no hint of warmth in that greeting, not even a short explanation or thank you message for the 4 months that had flowed past. The message would have fit right in with the perfunctory well wishes one proffers to a superior, albeit an unpopular one.

My heart sank. But why should it? Why expect anything more from a lover turned stranger who had so flippantly cast aside what he once strenuously declared he'd hold on to? Why remain imprisoned by feelings that would be neither acknowledged nor reciprocated? So many questions, so few answers.

Though this much I know, the physical attraction and desire remains strong. That familiar set of his jaw, the boyish visage, the prominent pecs, the swell of his arms, the soft mound of his slight paunch, the shape of his ass, his swagger and smell all couple to form a heady, irresistible cocktail of desire and deep-seated longing. To hug and to hold. Which I guess is not helping the extraction from this emotional quagmire.

I know it's time to move on. I am desperately willing myself to. I know I deserve better. No need for the cries of the many well-wishing friends to reiterate what I already know. Though I am thankful for their support. But knowing and being able to do so are two very different things indeed. Though that is certainly no excuse. Anger may be harnessed in the process, to facilitate a speedy extraction from this quagmire.

But experience has taught this. Anger is an excellent purgative but a poor restorative. The medicine should not kill the patient. I have cause to be angry, I certainly was angry. But anger will not be the salve to soothe the wounds in the long run. I know I have to move on. It's just a matter of finding the strength and right medicine to do so.

A friend once said, the best way to get over a man is to get under another one. Now if only things were that easy.. heh.

Curtain Call -2010

And so a year comes to an end. It's been a rollercoaster ride of sorts. Domestic life isn't all bliss, it has its up and downs. Laughs and exasperated sighs. The thing about staying together really is that you're practically in each other's face the entire week, which is where the compromise and the need to communicate come in handy. Some might not be as good as communicating as others but its still necessary to avoid misunderstandings.

And yes personal space is still important. We live together, we love each other, well hopefully, but we still need our space. Even if we compromise on other things. But no one touches my WoW, for now. hahahaha. Anyway New Year's around the corner. The usual new beginnings, new resolutions hopefully not to be broken within the first couple of weeks or so. Lol.

Ironically, the loved one may not be spending New Year's Eve with me but sick people have to rest. In the meantime, I think tonight should be enjoyable. And did I mention how bloody enjoyable WoW is? I cannot tell you how glad I was to sex/Race change Errath, a boring, beefy old man to Sepharael, a nubile, lilthe night elf. Even if the racials aren't fantastic but visual is v important to me now. Got tired of staring at an old man's ass for what, almost 3 years (excluding the hiatus from WoW)? Now chant with me, Lvl 85, lvl 85! hahaha.

Anyway, for what it's worth, happy new year y'all. Enjoy the time with friends, family and loved ones. Not necessarily in that order. And yes if you need to, have that New Year bonk. Things are so much better when you're semi ineberiated and with a loved one/ favourite sex buddy isn't it?

至少還有你

Settled down. It's been a tempestuous couple of weeks. Generally on that continuing high, the mundane aspect of chores and settling various household necessities not detracting from that high. On the contrary, it's become an enjoyable routine of sorts, the sense of ownership ironically present now where it was once lacking. Even the occasional visits to and interactions with the Family have changed slightly. Less abrasive though no less naggy replete with the usual bigoted narrow minded ravings about homosexuality & low income neighbourhoods. But whatever.

These few months, I've come to appreciate the value and camaraderie of true friendships, unpretentious and sincere warmth, the sincerity and desire to aid without the sarcasm, 2-faced backbiting and self-serving manipulations. Reviving old friendships and forging new ones. Promulgating dissension in a divide and control strategy might be a good strategy for subjugating your enemies. It certainly has no place in friendships.

In other news, the KTV bug is still going strong. Hur hur. We have an extensive repertoire now. Doubt they were quite expecting the gospel-ish 'Swing Low Sweet Chariot' Hahaha. Finally found that song by Sandy Lam, which reminds me, I should get round to finding Sandy Lam's delicious recipe for Fried Freshwater Prawns. I'll probably get her 'My Shanghai' cookbook too. Yummms.

至少還有你



For if anything, there's always you. :)

What a ride- A New Chapter.

Whirlwind does not even begin to describe these past couple of weeks. Tempestuous but not destructive. Consuming but not overwhelming. And like a torrent that hits you when you least expect it, sometimes all you can do is drown in that thing called love.

Wont as I am to disclose more, I shall not do so here due to the fact that people I have no intention of sharing anything with, have access to this blog, which is public after all. Close friends (in contact) get all the details haha. Suffice to say that a new chapter begins and it's one I'm really looking forward to. Living a new life was never as real or within my grasp as it is now. The decisions I have made these two weeks have probably been amongst the best i made these two years.

On a different note, the urge to KTV has been rekindled, haha not least cuz of certain friends and the fact that the special one is such a good singer. Like oh god, I can just drop dead and die when he sings 每天愛你多一些 to me hahahaha. I've finally mastered that ancient song by 潘越云, the one that left such a lasting impression on me way back in primary 2, I never forgot the main 2 lines of the chorus.

That's right it's 我是不是你最疼爱的人 . Hahaha and entirely inappropriate as it may be at the current juncture, the song just resonates so deeply with me and I can sing it with a depth of emotion that even surprises me. Now try it and see. :) Whatever the case, it remains a very moving song.

我是不是你最疼爱的人- 潘越云



从来就没冷过 因为有你在我身後
你总是轻声地说黑夜有我
你总是默默承受这样的我不敢怨尤
现在为了什麽不再看我
我是不是你最疼爱的人
你为什麽不说话
握住是你冰冷的手动也不动让我好难过
我是不是你最疼爱的人
你为什麽不说话
当我需要你的时候 你却沉默不说

从来就没冷过因为有你挡住寒冻
你总是在我身後带着笑容
你总是细心温柔呵护守候这样的我
现在为了什麽不再看我
我是不是你最疼爱的人
你为什麽不说话
握住是你冰冷的手动也不动让我好难过
我是不是你最疼爱的人
你为什麽不说话
当我需要你的时候你却沉默不说

你最心疼我把眼哭红
记得你曾说过 不让我委屈泪流
我是不是你最疼爱的人
你为什麽不说话
当我需要你的时候你却沉默不说

Thankful

The past few months have seen so many changes, a marked departure from the status quo.

Of new friends and new experiences. The joys of quiet camaraderie, simple activities that are nonetheless enjoyable if not because of the company. The revival of old friendships and some not so old ones, but for all of whom, some much needed catching up. The spontaneity of actions, the heights of reactions, some wild but never dull.

The depths of disappointment, the fracturing of erstwhile strong bonds which on hindsight might not have been more substantial than dross. The confirmation that a couple of bonds and at least one in particular was nothing more than sanctimonious lip service. Hollow and fake. Though my instinct for that particular bitch was always right.

The tumultuous changes. Of love considered, contemplated then rejected for the simple reason that it was lacking. The ability to passively meet past loves and feel nothing more than genuine amicability and the quiet comfort one would feel with a close friend.

For all these changes and more, a bumpy ride at times but interesting and no less enjoyable by virtue of the company; I am thankful. Well I could do with a little more passion, more steamy trysts, but I'm still thankful. :)

Let me count the ways you astound me..

I've never liked to wash dirty linen in public. While the act of bitching and ranting used to (and may on occasion be) a cathartic release, I've come to the realization that as the years go by, it's often better to forgive and forget. To learn, accept and observe. Then react as the situation calls for it. However since you've rejected all reasonable attempts at communication and closed all avenues of communication, I shall state my position here and the facts supported by incontrovertible evidence. I have no doubt you'll read it. You always do and by your admission, the ability to know more about others while disclosing as little information about yourself is highly attractive.

So let me recount the ways you astound me albeit unpleasantly.

First was the salvo fired without warning or any prior indication last Wednesday. Shortly before BBall. The allegation? Big mouth. Ok fine, we've always had that perception in the now fractured Gang that I liked to share information (which has i suppose always been a trait since I share stuff freely too, we're friends after all or so I thought). Some say too freely. I admit I was a little miffed at first but that was eons ago and I soon came to accept the concept that people's perception of an individual is not something easily changed. If I'm fine with it and have a clear conscience, so be it, I can live with that.

So that was fine. I have been for the longest time. So alright, the allegation, big mouth. I asked, very nicely for particulars. A simple request, what was it I allegedly said and to who so that I could explain and apologise where necessary. In your usual brusque manner when pissed, you said forget it. Added another salvo along the lines that I should think sometimes before I say but knowing me it's difficult. Then inexplicably, adamantly refused to give more particulars. I repeated the same a second time to no avail.

Even a criminal needs to know what he's charged with before he can opt to claim trial or plead guilty. Particulars of a charge must be given especially when you fire the first salvo. Let alone for friends. But no, none was forthcoming. I even explained that I felt 'gaowei' (ie: very uncomfortable) if you refused to even say what the alleged offending disclosure was because I'd always feel it's unresolved. On a big picture perspective, it was worrying because If friends are angry with each other and annoyed, the very least they can do is to talk it through if the issue is a real problem.

If it's just a minor infraction that causes annoyance, we usually just overlook it or put it down to the idiosyncrasies of the person. However if you blast the person and obviously feel it's a big issue, you address it. You give details and expect a solution. Not just fire a salvo and arbitrarily decide that you've 'settled' it without any communication with the person and leave him/her reeling from the bizarreness of it all. So if this cannot be resolved what is to stop a similar situation from happening in the future? And that in turn calls into question the strength of the friendship or perhaps its very existence.

Yet, I still went for Bball even though you conveniently compartmentalised it as exercise (sorry it's a social activity to me and until this crazy ridiculous issue is resolved (if ever) don't bother even asking me for bball) because I'd already promised to go And a friend was coming along.

Cue: Day 2. We had a meeting scheduled the next morning. We'd discussed about the matter, preliminary issues, deposit required and things to take note of before the meeting. So I emailed you the next morning, to ascertain whether you would be attending the meeting. Because personal issues aside, work is work. You've said so yourself and I presumed it true. You said No. I replied to say Ok, I'll attend the meeting and update you then. Then the shocker: No, what I meant was I'll attend the meeting myself. You don't need to waste your time. Just pass me the file.

Don't waste my time? Since when was that ever a valid consideration for not attending meetings? There's no way round it. Like it or not that was a stark dismissal. So much for the dichotomy. I tried to engage again. 'Is it about yesterday? Because I really think we should talk about it. But will pass you the file' To which I was rewarded with a curt 'Just pass me the file. Thanks.' In the kind of 'go and die' manner with Thanks added as a sarcastic afterthought.

At the pain of sounding like a dumped ex, I reiterated the need to talk and that I should at least know what the disclosure was even if he wanted to protect the identity of the person, so that I could explain and apologise where necessary. A two paragraph email. Dismissed in 3 lines: No need. I know what to do. Thanks.

Thanks?? You may know what to do but I don't. Because I sure as hell felt/feel damn uncomfortable. You do not fire a salvo, leave it hanging, refuse to even give particulars of the offending incident, act all weird at work (I don't care about the taking back of the file really, just so much for the dichotomy) and arbitrarily decide that you have resolved the issue when you don't even communicate at all. If you decide to resolve it on your own, you shouldnt even have raised the issue in the first place.

So because I was uncomfortable ( and I explicitly told you at least twice) I kept all social activities including but not limited to lunch to a minimum until you felt like talking about it. I just put it down to the fact that you were annoyed and might have needed sometime to cool off. Though it did bug me that if you could send long lengthy emails to another friend whom you declared you were 'unfriend-ing' to explain your position, why was it the case you couldn't even bother to tell me what it was that I allegedly disclosed which you found so offensive. But whatever.

So I was uncomfortable and avoided contact. I was puzzled and genuinely bewildered because till today I have no idea what it was that pissed you off. I WAS NOT ANGRY. What was just as puzzling if not more so was the inexplicable fact that a female colleague, a new addition to the grp I guess, suddenly started ignoring me. Even a simple Hi, was greeted with sullen stares and a frosty face that would freeze a polar bear. It was perplexing and unpleasant. My discomfort was only with you. This inexplicable attitude on her part was (and still is) a mystery. I can only hope that you had no hand in it. Even a casual email to the said frosty female enquiring if anything was wrong was rewarded with deafening silence. Not even the courtesy of a reply.

Imagine my shock, utter bewilderment, disappointment when I was informed that 'actually the two of them (you and frosty female) were not angry with me at all. They just thought I have a big mouth. And because of that I am angry. But they will just leave me be' Like HELLO? How much further from the truth can that be? I am seriously at a loss of words. Do you genuinely believe what you foreseeably knew what would be relayed to me? OR was it another half past six attempt at glossing things over. LEt's go through the utter ludicrosity of it all.

1. YOU were pissed. For sure. Wednesday evening all the way till Thursday morning. If you tell me you were not pissed, you know jolly well that's a blatant lie. Sure you may have somehow decided that you aren't pissed NOW. I don't know. But you were pissed THEN. I wasn't angry. I was confused and felt very uncomfortable after you rejected all my attempts to communicate and apologise. Social activities were (and still are) reduced to a minimum.

2.Me being pissed at the big mouth issue is such a retarded reason for the reasons mentioned above. IF I was pissed for that (which I was not and am not) I would have been pissed EONS ago when you and the gang raised it and have stayed pissed. I didn't. Don't drag AA into the picture because then my only unhappiness with her was for the 'trust' issue not LL. But you see the thing about AA and I is that unlike our altercations, we end up being able to communicate and resolve it. Arbitrary decisions is not the way to go for a friendship. Being friends isn't supposed to be a court room battle with the occasional verbal ripostes and parries to see who gets the upper hand.

3. How the fuck did Frosty Female ever get the impression I was angry with her? Like I said my discomfort was with you and you alone. I was fine with Frosty, fine with the Mad one, fine with AA, fine with everyone else. To be visibly snubbed and treated to the occasional glacial face by FF when I had (and still have) no fucking idea how I wronged her is perplexing and not very pleasant.

4. Please this was never a case of me being pissed over some prissy thing just to make me look like a stuck up pompous bitch. I may be a bitch at times but all in good clean fun and never with malice or to tear a person down, much less a friend. Let's frame the situation correctly shall we? I allegedly said something. You got pissed. You fired the first salvo. You refused to say what it is despite my repeated attempts (at least 3) to ask you to tell me so that I could explain and apologise even at the pain of sounding like an utter desperado simply because I thought we were good friends. Or does my gender not even warrant me the courtesy of a proper reply?

FF then ignores me for no reason. Next thing I know everyone's zen, I'm just pissed because they've called me a big mouth (I presume FF's name calling was at a different time from your MSN message) and they won't back down. But because I'm pissed they're leaving me alone for now. Seriously, how warped is that?

I would usually say blogging helps to exorcise the demons within, to release the venom on the metaphorical paper, to bleach it beyond recognition. But this isn't one of those cases. There is no venom to expel, no demons to exorcise. I'm just astounded (unpleasantly), flabbergasted. By the surrealness of it all, the duplicity of natures, the inexplicability of an unexplained situation. The volatility of the eruption, the brittleness of the relationship, the dearth of direct communication. It's sad to think something you would have stood by might not have been there to begin with.

So maybe I should quote a line from Frosty Female's correspondence before she froze, "I don't know what game the two of you are playing, but I don't appreciate being dragged in." I don't know what game this is but I'm not playing. Or as Sister Hazel put it, "You were the one... Who taught me what I don't need And I thank you-I thank you for that. You were the one...That brought me to my senses And I thank you-
Now just leave me alone"

It's sad things turned out this way.

Sister Hazel- Thank You

Random Ramblings 10: Unexpected Encounter

Bumped into an ex-BMT mate this morning at the taxi stand while headed home after the impromptu clubbing session. Well, maybe bumping is the wrong word, he never recognized me and I nearly didn't place his face till I'd gotten a full view of his face. By that time, he was getting into the cab and it was too late.

I've forgotten his name, it could be Julian, Jack, Jason or Timothy, I'll need to try dig up my old BMT photo. I'd remember a face anytime though. Especially the face of a person I've been intimate with (unless the said person is sooo forgettable), an unexpected corollary of a very visual person, the quirky workings of the human mind.

He was assisting an APNN, arms around the APNN's waist, smiling and offering words of encouragement as he guided him into the cab, before heading into the next himself. He looked the same, short punky hair with a couple of spiky ear studs and casual gothic like dressing. Call him! B. exclaimed when I uttered a cry of recognition. I did, waving at him while his name and consequently, words, escaped me. But it was too late, he was already in the cab by then, oblivious to the motions of a stranger at the edge of his peripheral vision.

It was really that look on his face, that strange, bemused, caring and almost tender look that made me take a second look at what appeared to be a quirky stranger assisting an unlikely APNN companion and place the face. The same quirky look he gave when describing how he was constantly picked up by men at bars and clubs even though he was attached, the same look when musing how he was probably bi, the same look he gave when our lips touched...and more.

He always had that cool, laid-back fucker air about him though he was anything but. It's hardly appropriate or fruitful to search for that ghastly BMT picture at this (relatively) unearthly hour on a Wednesday morning and I doubt I'd find it anyway. Perhaps the refrain from James Blunt's 'You're Beautiful' expresses it best :

"You're beautiful. You're beautiful.
You're beautiful, it's true.
I saw your face in a crowded place...
But it's time to face the truth,
I will never be with you."

Got into the cab and heard J. Jackson crooning "Like a moth to the flame, burned by the fire. My love is blind, can't you see my desire." Which brought back a flood of none too pleasant memories. God, I hate that song. Now, just 4 hours to crash and I'll get round to identifying Mr 'laid-back' fucker. Eventually.

Of Dollars and Sense.

Ever since the lube by the bedside incident, I've pretty much grown accustomed to the Mother's occasional off the wall 'Are you Straight' questions. Hardly ever 'Are you gay?' but more often than not 'Are you straight?' because the word gay still remains taboo, though how phrasing it as the latter is any better is beyond me. It's as if by avoiding the word gay, broaching the subject of your son's sexuality suddenly becomes more manageable. But I guess a lot of close-minded parents in denial behave in similar quirky ways.

So anyway I'd grown used to the Mother's clumsy, often painfully awkward (for her) probing of my sexuality, of which half the time she seemed to be convincing herself of my 'heterosexuality'. Such probing usually extended to certain male friends with queries like,"Huh not married yet? (at 35) Is he gay?" Initially, I'd just outright flatly deny my sexuality for reasons I've already explained in detail in earlier entries.

Then as the years went by, I figured why give her that much satisfaction in affirming her fragile self delusion. So I'd just say something vague like 'Can you stop being so spastic?' or 'Are you mad?' to display my annoyance and leave her hanging without the answer she so desperately wanted. Whereupon she'd be unable to progress further, the desire to know warring with the dread of finding out before the whole process gets short circuited with the usual dose of self-delusion.

It was amusing to the extent that humor could be found in such tiresome charades. But the probing seemed to taper off the last couple of years, so it was with some surprise when I was accosted by the Mother yesterday as I was leaving for the office and gym before heading to a colleague's place for BBQ.

"You really should get a girlfriend." the woman went.
"Whaaaat??"
I halted in mid-stride, all thoughts of grabbing the gym shoe bag momentarily displaced by the stupidity of the statement, the unconventional prong of attack.
"You heard me. You should have a girlfriend at this age." that indomitable woman replied.
"Excuse me. Why don't I hear you asking XX (the Sister) to get a boyfriend? It's about high time she gets one, being older and all by your impeccable logic." I retorted.
"Stop being funny. I'll pray to God that you get a good, God-fearing girlfriend."

That ludicrous statement didn't even warrant a rebuttal. I think I managed a snort. Seeing that she was not going to illicit any form of reply from yours truly, the Mother hurried down the hallway as I stepped out and continued, "You are straight right? Right?" Which I replied with the perfunctory 'You're mad.'

"You cannot be gay... only sick people are gay... so you must be straight ok?" The illogicality of her quasi-question cum statement was laughable. It's times like those that I'm seriously tempted to tell the Mother that her son is gay just to watch her reaction. The envisaged aftermath always manages to silence me.. for now. Mistaking my silence as acquiescence to her statement, she pressed on, "Don't worry I will pray that God gives you a good girlfriend who loves Him that she might change your ways."

I bit back an epithet and thankfully the cab arrived at that opportune moment so I was spared from further madness. It's been years but I still remain amazed by the depth and tenacity of the Mother's self-delusion. Faith can be a scary thing when applied in all the wrong places. Perhaps next time I'll just bring a guy back home, lock ourselves in my room and tell her we're having holy fellowship.

On to other matters, last month's credit card bill was truly and utterly horrific. It'll take at least 2 months to get back in the black. From now on it's extreme fiscal restraint for the next 3 months, which means no swanky meals, at least 2 bring-from-home-DIY roast beef sandwiches per week and a substantially toned down social life. Sad to say, you usually need money to socialise in Singapore.

I don't think it's going to work. Sorry.

Such a convenient, oft-used phrase of dismissal. The death-knoll of countless relationships, relationships conceived in hope, still-born in birth, leaving shattered dreams in its brutal wake. All with one flippant statement. Nonetheless it continues to remain a phrase that is often brandished about with little thought. Nowhere is this more evident than in the gay circle, where guys who are attracted to guys hook up with each other.

By nature, guys are certainly a more promiscuous bunch, visual creatures hard wired for sex and driven by a primal instinct to satisfy that raging hard on even if it means abandoning all higher order thought processes to that turgid member in doing so. There is some truth to the perception that gay relationships can be more 'superficial' than heterosexual ones, this perception fuelled in no small part by guys' inherent horniness and the ease with which we can hook up and break up without any untoward consequences. Blame our psyche if you will. An unpleasant observation but true nonetheless. Though I do not think it's something we should be apologizing for. Put two guys together and you have a whole different ball game. After all, while many gay guys dream of harmonious & blissful monogamy, all but the most imbecilic or delusional gay man understand that the average gay guy is horny and susceptible to straying. Fidelity is a concept that is easy to grasp but hard to master.

This understanding does not make this dismissive phrase any more agreeable. It evokes a sense of stark finality that brooks no reconsideration and rejection is seldom, if ever, palatable. Still, the phrase remains widely used, sometimes after tortured considerations, sometimes with scant thought. I have said this. Guys have said it to me. Less so the latter, not because I am some Adonis but for the simple fact that more often than not, the guys I happen to be attracted to are likewise attracted to me. But by and large it is mutual. Every one says it. Careless and feckless though it may sound, it remains a necessity, almost a ritual of sorts. To disengage so that you can re-engage.

You cannot be friends with everyone. This was one truth I realized early on in my journey as a young gay boy, even though I attempted to be sociable and personable. The concept of being friends with the world or everyone you meet is one which rapidly loses its appeal when confronted with the drudgery of mundane life. It's not that the people you meet are hateful or detestable or jerks you want nothing to do with. No, by far most of the time, people are equally cordial, well-meaning and amicable. The fact that you can’t be friends with the whole world or at least the people you meet is boils down to a single but fundamental reason; sometimes you just aren’t able to get along. Either you can't communicate as there is nothing to talk about, the person bores you, or you just find the person utterly uninteresting in the sense that you have absolutely nothing in common or things to talk about.

There are of course the jerks, braggarts and sods with an ego the size of our Milky Way. People who just rub you the wrong way (not the correct way...which can be very pleasant indeed) because the two of you are destined by the stars above to be eternal rivals/ are fundamentally incompatible in bed/ ran over each other’s pets in a drunken tit for tat brawl/[insert random reason]. They are irritants but saying ‘goodbye’ is never very difficult when the other party is a jerk and/or there is mutual disaffection.

Ironically, it is the well-meaning ones who bore you but do not get the hint that end up being the most annoying. Why? Because unlike the undesirable jerks who are just out to get into your pants or other annoying buggers whom you just cannot get along with and can easily buzz off; well-meaning people (and gay guys in particular) are unfailingly polite and cordial, adept at engaging in polite small talk, rarely according the chance for you to cut them off abruptly without looking/sounding rude. Granted, some of these ‘well-meaning’ ones are well-meaning because they have certain ulterior motives such as getting into your pants or seeking some form of help or to cultivate their own sense of accomplishment (oh look i have a friend who is a so and so). By and far though, most aren’t and even if they are, they conduct themselves in a manner which makes it impossible for you to buzz them off curtly in a pre-emptive strike.

So because their current behaviour does not merit a drastic dismissal, you are left with various options including but not limited to non-committed responses, polite but un-stimulating superficial small talk and a tendency to come up with excuses to decline further meet ups. This usually works after a while, not always and it is annoying, almost exasperating when you wonder why some people just cannot take the hint. Are they truly oblivious or are they incredibly optimistic? But when all else fails, there is always the phrase ‘ I don’t think it’s going to work. Sorry.’ and heartless or flippant though it may sound, it works. The aftermath is seldom pleasant but the desired message is communicated and the person desists.

The truth is seldom pleasant but that does not detract from the necessity or effectiveness of the phrase. Because some times (if not most of the time), you need to say it like it really is.

Perception

Perception.
In what you see.
The words you speak
The thoughts you leak.

Deception.
By shadows they cast
The ties that bind
The lies they wind.

Conception.
Over nothing at all
The remarks I make
The conduct I take.

Redemption.
Out of their grasp
The warmth they fake
The thirst they slake.

Destination: Hell.

Oh it's something I've never really given much thought to. Where I'll end up after this life as I know it ends. Where certainty ends and the great unknown begins. Which is ironic given my Christian background and the environment I grew up in, where hellfire and eternal damnation for sinners formed a significant bulk of the perfunctory Sunday sermons. Mind boggling in their sweeping dismissal of the world and the unworthy sinners that populate it.

Sinners go to Hell. Such a facile, careless phrase isn't it? Sinners like cheats, liars, fornicators, homosexuals, pagans, heretics, unbelievers, blasphemers, hoarders, murderers, the list goes on. All consigned to the eternal rubbish dump of humanity otherwise known as Hell. Rejects who failed to repent and turn from their wicked ways. I always find it such delicious irony that the religion I know, or at least the one I grew up knowing, should be so inclusive yet so exclusive in almost every other aspect.

Exclusive in the sense that there is but one way to God and one way to Heaven. Exclusive in the sense that really the said religion is the only way to God and Heaven, pagans be damned. Well, of course they can't say that publicly but that is in essence one of the fundamental tenets of Christianity. Exclusive because 'we (believers) are in this world but we are not of this world'.

Inclusive in its feckless, all encompassing classification of sin and the myriad forms of behaviour that would earn the said participants or sinners a one way ticket to eternal damnation and suffering. Those who fail to repent of course. I have always wondered what the world would be like if the said religion could have expanded half of the vigour that it displays in branding numerous forms of conduct as 'sinful', on being inclusive and tolerant of others different from themselves instead. But such puerile thinking militates against the very core tenet of the religion. In essence perhaps the layman's phrase, 'My Way or the Highway', best describes the religion's approach. In this case, highway meaning the expressway to Hell.

Undoubtedly, there are some forms of behaviour that are universally unacceptable or at least detrimental to society in general. So say for example, murder, rape and theft is detrimental to the society and the actors 'deserve' to be punished if not in this life then in whatever awaits after this life. But it gets ridiculous when sin or the proverbial ticket to hell encompasses stuff like 'deviant' sexuality and desires or even watching various shows or sitcom such as 'Desperate Housewives' which purportedly corrupt and degenerate minds and morals.

When what is different is literally demonised by virtue of being different and the prospect of eternal damnation awaits the unrepentant actor who refuses to conform by repenting. As I have said and I will say again, a religion that condemns me solely on the basis of my sexuality and who I am as a person, that I am a sinner for the simple reason that I do not love women, is not a religion I can countenance and/or accept. Naturally, there are millions who disagree as well as many gay Christians who can seemingly compartmentalise the fact that they are gay along with their lifestyle and the religion they practice which no matter how I look at it appears to be fundamentally incompatible with our 'sinful' lifestyle.

It was not an easy decision to make but one I made once I decided to embrace the fact that I was gay and live the life more than 12 years ago. That coming from a devout pre-pubescent boy who attended cell group regularly but suffered the occasional stab of confusion and guilt every time I attempted the futile exercise of explaining away my attraction towards other guys. But of course, everyone is entitled to their own opinion and their freedom to believe whatever they want to believe. I do not intend to persuade or coerce anyone to adhere to my point of view. Indeed, those who believe would never be persuaded otherwise anymore than I would be persuaded to subscribe to a religion I have chosen to reject for the aforesaid reasons.

But I digress. Most of you I believe have heard of, if not read Dante's Inferno, the first (and probably most memorable) part of the Divine Comedy. An allegory narrative written by the Italian, Dante Alighieri, in the thirteenth century that portrays the medieval concept of Hell and the different levels of Hell reserved for various forms of sin and the said sinners. Larry Niven and Jerry Pournelle wrote Inferno in 1976 depicting a science fiction writer's journey through hell with Benito Mussolini as his guide, updating Hell with a variety of modern day 'sins' and injecting some black humour into an entertaining and fast-moving novel.



It became a classic and 33 years after Inferno was released, its sequel Escape from Hell was released in February this year. I'm still on it. A highly entertaining read, I'd recommend the two books. Though I find it amusing albeit morbidly so, how lawyers always have a special place in Hell or places rather. According to Dante and further elaborated upon by Niven and Pournelle, Lawyers, legalists, unbelievers and the 'lukewarm' are found in the Vestibule of Hell, confined for all eternity to little brass flasks with neither senses nor company.

Lawyers who sow discord such as those who talked people into divorces they didn't want and lawsuits they didn't need get a special place in the eight circle of Hell where they get hacked apart by a sword wielding demon only to heal again and get hacked apart, repeatedly. Gays get consigned to the seventh circle of Hell where they roam a burning desert of flaming sand and get cooked by fiery flakes which rain down from the sky. And you wonder why I don't give the idea of life (assuming there is life) after death much thought.

So after this life has passed, even if I were wrong, that there is but one way to Heaven and I'm on the shinkansen to Hell, I'd still have three places in Hell to choose from. I'd probably opt for the place with fellow gays. Better to be tormented with other guys I can appreciate and commiserate with rather than being locked up in a metallic vessel or get chopped up without decent company.

And if anything, I'd take immense comfort from the fact that Heaven would be a very dreary and boring place indeed without any gay men or women for that matter. I mean how can Heaven be Heaven without other gay men to appreciate, flirt and/or sleep around with?? Otello's Iago puts it succinctly. Credo in un Dio crudel. I believe in a cruel God. How apt.

The Week in Numbers

10 Mojitos- downed at Cuba Libre after an impromptu mid-week dinner & drinks with the Gang at work. M. had 2, turned a bright beet red and proceeded to pat CP A. fondly while resting his head on his palm and giving her bambi eyes. CP. A to her credit, was blissfully oblivious, as usual. The rest of us were trying very hard to stop laughing into our Mojitos.

9 old/new files - that exploded and promise to make life very busy for the next two months or so.

8 coffee breaks - caffeine is getting quite as enjoyable as chocolate. I say quite, because it hasn't yet. But that's the thing about vices isn't it? Starts out slow then you can't stop. Not quite looking forward to be a CCC (Chain Coffee Consumer) if not least for the sizeable amount of moola that needs to be expanded to fuel the habit. Though if the resident office caffeine junkies are to be believed, coffee has a slimming effect (amongst other things - like that incessant need to pee). So we'll see how that one goes.

7 mins - From the time I set up (after years of inertia) a personal profile replete with a semi nude pic on a popular gay personals portal to the first message I received. "Hey you look hot. Wanna fuck?" But it came from a bear so no thank you. Thankfully, the other pickings from the subsequent influx of messages were better.

6 consecutive days - Of gyming and attending the various classes with fancy names like body pump, body jam, RPM and cardiac arrest inducing routines. Pumping irons vigorously while performing squats is about as enjoyable as, what was that phrase? 'having a straw stuffed up your nostril' I believe, while working out but you feel damn good after that. Sore but satisfied. Not a gym bunny yet. But we'll see how it goes.

5 times - I had to download Rihanna's Disturbia from various sources just to get the complete version. But it was so fucking worth it. This woman's music so consistently hot and she oozes so much attitude and sex appeal. If I were straight, she'd probably be the focal point of a number of masturbatory fantasies. Right now, I just have to settle for hotties like Takeshi Kaneshiro or that nicely buffed lifeguard in Japan Pictures: Ra Kai Shin Bi Dan who moans like there's no tomorrow.

4 guys - on the potentially fuckable/ let's fuck list out of the Let's meet to fuck list. Finally deciding to make a profile must be the second best New Year Resolution this year, after the gonna gym cuz till I'm fat fit and flab fab resolution.

3 sets - of Basketball games the Gang at work and I played till M. suddenly groaned out loud, clutched his side and collapsed on the court wheezing and gasping like a struck pig before clawing his way to the side of the basketball court. I laughed till my stomach ached. That was handsdown the most hilarious moment of the week, well worth the pain of having to drag myself from bed at the unearthly hour of 6.45am on a Saturday morning.

2 hours - spent agonising over my stupidity not to strike up a conversation with the cute guy in red who attended the same Body attack class at Planet Fitness One Raffles Quay on friday evening. We both kept glancing at each other, which lasted well into the changing room before a final electrifying stare as I got into the lift first. Was tempted to stop the lift but there were already a couple of girls in the lift. Well, there's always next Friday. grins.

1 hour - left to Reunion dinner and the annual pig out session (perhaps less so this time round... for the sake of looking flab fab. But then again just slightly less so. haha.)

Happy Chinese New Year to those who still celebrate it. I leave you with Rihanna's bad ass and absolutely hot Disturbia. Shake that body baby.

Disturbia by Rihanna




What's wrong with me?
Why do I feel like this?
I'm going crazy now

No more gas, in the rig, can't even get it started
Nothing heard, nothing said, can't even speak about it
On my life, on my head, don't wanna think about it
Feels like I'm going insane, yeah

It's a thief in the night to come and grab you
It can creep up inside you and consume you
A disease of the mind, it can control you
It's too close for comfort

Put on your pretty lies, you're in the city of wonder
Ain't gon' play nice, watch out you might just go under
Better think twice, your train of thought will be altered
So if you must falter, be wise

Your mind's in disturbia, it's like the darkness is light
Disturbia, am I scaring you tonight?
Disturbia, ain't used to what you like
Disturbia, disturbia

Faded pictures on the wall, it's like they talking to me
Disconnecting on calls, the phone don't even ring
I gotta get out or figure this shit out
It's too close for comfort, oh

It's a thief in the night to come and grab you
It can creep up inside you and consume you
A disease of the mind it can control you
I feel like a monster, oh

Put on your pretty lies, you're in the city of wonder
Ain't gon' play nice, watch out you might just go under
Better think twice, your train of thought will be altered
So if you must falter be wise

Your mind's in disturbia, it's like the darkness is light
Disturbia, am I scaring you tonight?
Disturbia, ain't used to what you like
Disturbia, disturbia, disturbia

Release me from this curse I'm in
Trying to maintain but I'm struggling
If you can't go-o-o
I think I'm gonna ah, ah, ah, ah

Put on your pretty lies, you're in the city of wonder
Ain't gon' play nice, watch out you might just go under
Better think twice, your train of thought will be altered
So if you must falter be wise

Disturbia, it's like the darkness is light
Disturbia, am I scaring you tonight?
Disturbia, ain't used to what you like
Disturbia, disturbia

Unholy Triumvirate

This is an exposition.. of three guys.

Gay and absolutely fabulous... or so they wished, content instead to howl in laughter at the wickedly satirical television series of the same.

They came from disparate backgrounds.

One precocious and unconventional, that wild streak ever present, subduing parents into resigned acceptance. The other mysterious yet bitchy, eloquent yet dirty, hedonism tempered with pragmatic rationalism. The last inquisitive and wild, luxuriating in quiet defiance at a strait jacketed family, carnal but measured.

Perhaps the fact that they were gay, eschewed the conventional with a propensity to bitch were all they had in common. And all that was needed.

They had their usual share of scandals. One caught naked by his mom in a very inconvenient situation, the other with his infamous lube in the tube incident, the last eloped with the rugby captain for a week before returning to the fold.

Years have passed since. Times have changed. One is now single, getting back to the scene. The other newly attached, settled and 'serene', the last zen about it all. All still fiercely independent.

Relationships are quixotic, resilient yet fragile. Who knows what those fickle winds of change will etch in the shifting sands of time?

Yet for now, the triumvirate still stands. Bitchy, irreverent, diabolical. And for that my friends, partners in crime and fellow sisters, I toast you now.

Viva le sisterhood.

Separate Lives- forever.

"We live our separate lives
And go our different ways
Cause we don't see eye to eye
And we can't stand face to face." - Separate Lives by The Alan Parsons Project.

Going for another sweltering, strength sapping and mildly torturous 90 mins hot yoga session after a two week hiatus was on hindsight not the best way to kickstart the flagging exercise regime. But as everyone knows, sometimes one simply needs a good shock to jump start the engine or risk succumbing to the eternally attractive 'Oh maybe just next week' excuse.

So while the rapid sequence of postures in the hot house left me a little light headed and totally baked towards the end of the class, the feeling after taking a shower was pure bliss. There is truth after all to the age old observation of that feel-good sensation and utter satisfaction after a good hard work out. Pleasure after the pain.

Exercise like sex, which of course is in itself a most pleasurable form of exercise, does work up a healthy appetite. Which is where one needs to curb the craving to stuff your face silly with all that horribly tempting and artery clogging fried stuff or perhaps the odd dessert or two. Kinda stupid to detox and burn calories then retox and pile on more calories faster than you can say 'cake'.

Thankfully, the only eateries open at a very ulu Valley Point were Starbucks and a small family Japanese restaurant. No brainer about dinner. I had a Tekka Don, raw tuna on sushi rice with pickles, roe and a generous serving of pink ginger and a salmon skin temaki. The Tekka Don was passable, not half as fatty as I would have liked it to be and the rice was just a tad too clumpy but the food was on average, well above average. That and possibly because I was positively famished.

Sitting there and trying my darn best to chew through each mouthful, not out of any particular need to appreciate the food but rather the more pragmatic and mundane reason of filling the stomach, I pondered just how in the short span of a few months, how used and comfortable I was to being alone. Having a quiet meal, savouring the food, watching the world go by.

Sure sometimes the conversation, the company is missed. A heartfelt conversation, the ripostes and parries as both parties interact and simply enjoy the company. But these days solitude is a familiar solace, not one that is actively sought out as a panacea for any perceived loneliness from being alone but a solace that has become comforting in its familiarity. You observe more, you think more, you do what you want, when you want, you impose less. Of course the very same reason for the aforesaid benefits is also a necessary downside, you remain alone.

And when one realises that irrefutable fact, one can either choose to remain wretchedly single or recognise that fact and make the best of things. Or you can, anti-social as it may sound, enjoy the solitude while remaining cognizant of the fact that the occasional fleeting pangs of loneliness are natural and by no way indicative of a need to rush into a relationship with someone else. A nice warm body in bed undeniably tempting yes, but to enter into a relationship or seek solace in the company of friends, no.

So now I've gotten quite hooked on cedele lunches and other decidedly less 'manly' (as termed by a few dear colleagues at work on the account that lunches which involve copious amounts of meat and preferably half of it nicely fried are substantial and manly) lunches at sandwich bars and ramen shops while trooping about the central area for lunch if I'm not forced to lunch in due to work.

Which means I haven't been joining the gang for lunch for a while but all's good because lunch doesn't have to be a give or take kind of decision and it's not nice to expect people to have sandwiches, salads and other decidedly unmanly food on a regular basis. Making and/or expecting them fork out the amount you're willing to fork out for the aforesaid grub is certainly unacceptable.

But really, despite the rambling diversion, the focus of this entry was never meant to be about Yoga, sex or food. Not even solitude as solace though that is certainly a necessary incidental. It's to explain to a certain once beloved individual in very clear, unadulterated terms just exactly why the prospect of convenient amnesia and maintaining the masquerade of a 'friendship', emotionless and superficial is not an option for yours truly. And to lay bare just exactly why I think your random off the wall shot that your 'heart has been hurt once more' is just a load of horse shit.

You knew things were coming to a head. Ever since that utterly disastrous Bangkok trip ("I know you didn't enjoy yourself" must have been the biggest understatement of the year), with the oh-let's-all-move-on-I-fucked-my-colleague-so-I-made-my-choice-but-let's-still-be-friends-cause-I-really-care-give-it-thirty-years-and-we might-be-together crap. So yes you made your choice didn't you, you wanted to move on didn't you but we still have to be friends, cause really I want you to know who I'm fucking cause I care for you.

And you wonder why I remained so cold and distant after you had so brutally told me to move on, the lies you tell with a smile and in the same breath profess care and concern while extending what you undoubtedly perceived to be a very sensible and generous offer of friendship. One that remains utterly superficial, that veneer of artificiality glaring without the need to scrutinize, a blase emotionless friendship of endless small talk and superficial concern but never lancing the festering boil beneath.

I don't know how anyone who ever felt a fraction of what you claim to have felt for the relationship, towards the other party, could readily just release it all and adopt this convenient amnesia, flash your idiotic grin and presume we could ever be 'just' friends as if that phrase of life, those years never existed. I don't even know if you genuinely feel that way or it's your way of coping. I don't care now. But if you ever genuinely did feel that way, I can only say it has to be your biggest blessing or foulest curse.

Suffice to say, I am not blessed with such a delusional view of things. For the only logical conclusion I can come to, if you do not indeed possess the aforementioned unfathomable mindset, is that you surely never cared, never loved like you said you did. To be able to release so callously, to be able to settle for a friendship as superficial as it is unsatisfying, to be able to sleep with a colleague 'you think is nice' and speak of your 'concern' for me in the same breath is an irrefutable indication of the depth and strength of your purported feelings.

None. Zilch. Zero. An utter and complete fallacy. And I'm sure the part about how you never really forgot your first ex too was meant to be comforting in your warped sense of logic which fails me. Something about moving on and remaining friends I believe. But perhaps the idea that if you loved a person so much, so desperately, so consumingly, there will always remain that underlying tension of unspoken emotions especially when the breakup was never due to cheating or a fatal disinterest so much so that remaining 'just' friends is all the more untenable, never ever crossed your mind? Perhaps not on that halcyonic, delusional world of yours.

So when finally unable to bear the constant, frivolous attempts at initiating superficial small talk about work and weather despite my numerous indications that I was not in the least inclined to do so (conveniently ignored as usual), I lambasted you on Thursday, telling you in no uncertain precisely what I thought about your ludicrous and downright unwelcome attempts at remaining 'friends', you went dead silent then played the part of the maligned virtuous hero, the wronged, long suffering been-dumped-boyfriend. 'But I tot we can be frens...'

No we can't. Not the kind of compartmentalised GI Joe you can take out from your toybox when the mood for some company comes on you and which can be shut away when you please friendship you envisage. Not some cheap, plastic bauble. Unlike you I cannot forget the past six plus years, better you be an eternal stranger, dead to the heart, those years a monument,a chapter of my life, testament to my folly, than have some pseudo- half-baked- superficial- acquaintance when I don't want to know who you're screwing now and you think it's good I should know.

And then you went " Once again you have cut deep into my heart." There is nothing to cut, I have no wish or will, nothing to cut it with and with you so brutally declaring to move on and spewing copious crap about releasing and remaining friends, what is there to cut when your heart has already died on this relationship when you uttered those accursed words in Bangkok. "I made my choice when I slept with him, you should make yours." Then live with it. YOU made YOUR choice.

Or was your heart hurt because you thought you could release yet still remain as friends, superficial though it may be, which you found to be gratifying and acceptable and I flatly rejected that? Then it can bleed dry because I have no intention of being a party to your deluded scheme.

I will not wish you well, because I have no inclination to do so. Neither will I wish you ill, because I'm not going to waste my karma on someone who is totally not worth it. In fact I will be very honest and state for the record that right now, I really dislike you. But I will remember the times past, how you used to be, not the you now or whatever you may be in the future.

Because as far as I'm concerned, you've died to me and the next time (if ever) we pass by on the streets, it shall be as strangers, oblivious, uncaring, indifferent. Goodbye Mr Ho.