Give me Love and Money, I have the rest already

There’s a hundred and one things I want to say but I don’t know how. All the things that races through my mind, I wish to pen them down and write something interesting about them. What’s paradoxical is….I sort of lost the ability to. When I read back on my previous entries like "Mandisa and the Director" and " Hopeless. Romantic", I feel jealous of myself. I crave to indulge in my digressing, to float away somewhere unreal, to explore unimportant possibilities.

I want to say that without lunchtime ice-cream, there’s no highlight in my day. It’s like having sex and not climaxing.

I want to say that I was abused verbally by a complete stranger even before the sun came up from the east. And all I did was swallow. I don’t understand why I can be so strong for the people around me but I just can’t do the same for myself.

I want to say that I’ve got pain. But I know that you’re gonna sing back to me "Baby we’ve all got pain".

I want to say that I lost my other big toe nail while playing ball. I seriously question the function of them. They’re never around when I really need them. Now I just pray that they will heal before the 3-on-3 that I promised CD to participate in.

I want to say that I felt lonely when Shihai told me he’s going to be away for 9 months or more. Even though we don’t see each other as much anymore, it’s still intimidating to know that I have to do without him. I better learn how to handle MSN very soon.

I want to say that the Opera Ghost was someone who wrote enchanting operas, someone who was a talented singer, and a very wise teacher. For many years the opera house he resided in flourished, capitalizing on the scripts he wrote and secretly delivered to the matron. He fell in love with a little girl named Christine, an insignificant dancer in the opera house. Through her dreams, he taught her how to sing like an angel. And slowly, he groomed her to become the leading actress. He was in control, until Prince Charming came along and showed Christine a more orthodox form of love. In the end Christine chose to be with Prince Charming. And the Opera Ghost, torn internally between his love for Christine and wanting to do the right thing, chose to fade into nothing-ness.

I want to say that beer from the tap tastes really really succulent. And as Aw and I sat amongst a nonchalent crowd, soaking in the amatuerish live music, the fumes from our fags spiralled upwards voluntarily. For who and what I am right now, it was a Friday beyond my expectations.

So if you have a minute why don’t we go

Talk about it somewhere only we know

This could be the the end of everything

So why don’t we go somewhere only we know  –Keane

When you buy a new car, you gotta maintain it. Run it in the unconventional way, bring it to a downslope and let the gravity overtake the engine. OIl changes every few thousands of kilometres, brake pad changes when you hear the noise-making shims screeching against your disc brake, tyre changes when you feel them aqua-planing in puddles of water. Feed it premium high-octane petrol to keep the combustion chambers clean.

When you get into a new relationship, you gotta sustain it. Prioritise your girl…or to be more specific…prioritise your time for your girl. Bring her out for dinner and movies. Watch out for those special dates and squeeze your creative juices to plan something unique. Sacrifice your beloved testosterone-induced activities like playing computer games or watching football. Take into account all little details like holding her hand when she meets your friends for the first time (cos she’s bound to be nervous), and emptying out some of your clothes in the wardrobe so that she gets to invade it with her own. Romantic long walks along mosquito-breeding water holes are a must. Tele-conversations that lasts for hours past midnight are essential.

I’m used to pulling my own weights. And I’m definitely used to running at my own pace….waltzing through the finishing line in my own style.

I’m used to being selfish. Without the need to consider the feelings of somebody special….I’m used to that.

I don’t mind being in a mad rush, racing to finish my errands in the day just to keep my night free for her. But it’s gotta be worth it. I don’t want to feel unappreciated. Especially when I really did try.

And I don’t understand human beings’ obsession with SMS. It has come to a point where people see missed calls on their mobile phones, they return that missed call with an SMS "You called?" *bangs head onto wall repeatedly*

I’m really upset at how she put down the phone at the end of our conversation. And I’m suddenly reminded of why I was so determined to stay un-attached. God damn expectations. It’s the greatest under-rated word in the English dictionary. I’m so proud of Charles Dickens for getting it right.

Can’t help but think to myself that the market rate has changed. I don’t remember it being so difficult. What used to be enough, now is inadequate. I can continue to explore all other excuses for myself. But I know better in actual fact. I have slackened and lost touch, at the same time refusing to acknowledge my own incompetencies.

I can’t sustain. And I find myself suffocating underneath the surface.