Give me Love and Money, I have the rest already

Thursday

My bed beckons at me and I peeped at the clock. 1130pm. Picking up my handphone, I set the alarm for 550am. The lights went out and I fell onto my welcoming bed. Although it’s just more than 6 hours of sleep, I felt an advance feeling of contentment. Because I know for sure that it will be 6 hours of deep fulfilling sleep. 6 hours of Rapid Eye Movement. My body ached mildly from the threadmill running and iron pumping. And I looked forward to the addictive soreness of muscles that I will be experiencing tomorrow. I have worked hard today, I thought to myself. I deserve to sleep well.

Middle of the night, I found myself wide awake with all my senses heightened. My left leg, I had it locked at the knees and instinctively my ankle pulled upwards to stretch my calf muscles. It wanted to cramp up. The lactic acid that accumulated inside my calf muscles on the threadmill; the lactic acid that provided my muscles with energy during anaerobic metabolism, incurring an oxygen debt; this very same lactic acid that was my friend in the day, has now become my foe. I wanted to sit up and hold on to my ankle so that the cramp would not materialise but I couldn’t. I used my right leg to lift my ass off my bed, in a last desperate attempt, trying to keep my ankle arched upwards. Finally, I gave in to my body. The moment I released my strength, the electric signals travel through the nerve receptors, all through my spine, before arriving at my brain where it registered as pain. I shut my eyes tight and I wanted to shout out the excruciating pain. But somehow I remained sensible enough to shut my mouth and just let the pain implode inside my head. It lasted for less than 2 minutes, which of course seemed like an eternity to me. When the pain subsided and my muscle stopped contracting, I tried to reach for my handphone to see how much time I had left. But I figured it doesn’t matter. I wasn’t going into deep sleep anymore.

It must be exhausting to lose your own game - Evanescence

Deep fried french fries, chicken chop in greasy black pepper sauce, they sat on the plate in front of me. I chowed them down without the slightest pang of guilt. Mamee couldn’t finish her laksa. I wasn’t hungry anymore but still I volunteered to finish up the partial bowl of laksa. Of course I can’t let food go to waste. Think about the hungry stick figure kids in Africa. If only I had discipline over what I put in my mouth. Then losing weight wouldn’t seem so impossible.

"Minyi’s birthday is just around the corner you know."

"Yah I didn’t forget. I know I’m in charge of the cake and I’ll order it as soon as November comes" I replied in between slurps of thick coconut milk laksa gravy.

"Are you going to ask Alice to come? I’m sure she wants to see Minyi."

The gravy flowing down my oesophagus almost threatened to come back up. My pupils dilated and I panicked to find something to say. Suddenly I felt guilty as hell. Quickly and conveniently, I convinced myself that the guilt must be due to the greasy chicken chop and sinful laksa.

Mamee knows that I’m out of my comfort zone. And this time, she let me off. The conversation ended here. Which at the same time, gave my mind a chance to wander. I wandered to a Wednesday 2 weeks back. Sitting at the benches beside the basketball courts in NUS, I was trying to catch my breath and mopping the sweat off my brows. Yaorong seldom starts a conversation with me. He is always passive and cool. But that day he asked, "Yibin so do you keep in contact with Alice?" My heart  which was originally racing to pump oxygen around my body, suddenly stopped for 2 seconds. Alice and I used to team up and make fun of Yaorong when we were mugging in the library. He probably wonders how she is doing, as much as I was. "She made it very clear that we are not friends. And that I shouldn’t call." Yaorong nodded slowly, his gaze upon the other people shooting hoops. The conversation ended as fast as it started.

I picked up the phone and dialled the number that I knew all too well. It rang for the longest time. I allowed the dial tones to continue ringing until they died off on their own. I tried.

The rusty chain on my bicycle creaked in protest as I pedaled in the morning breeze. The sprockets so eaten that they slip every now and then. Amazingly, the place is stunningly tranquil. The metallic giants around me lay motionless, yet to wake up from their sleep. The Asian Hercules biggest of them all, has her wire ropes hanging down like the roots of a Banyan tree. To me, they look like they are suppose to sway and dance together with the morning breeze. But they stay in static equilibrium and she continues to snooze. Just a few more minutes before she has to flex those massive muscles.

The sun rays are just beginning to penetrate the clouds and the hazy air. My forearms glistened in the soft light and I would like to think that it’s an indication that the UV rays are being reflected away from my skin. I am the circus clown in the locker room every morning. Because everybody stares and laughs under their breath as I apply sunblock in front of the mirror. All I do is just keep repeating in my head "Skin damage is irreversible…skin damage in irreversible…" I shudder at the thought of how my skin would look in another 10 years. When they start to loose tension and droop towards the centre of the Earth.