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bypass mandarin, to centrepoint

by comrade commissar | Thomas | @ Sunday, February 27, 2005, 2:50:00 AM

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Booked out for the weekend, hung out with Boon, Edmund, Pearl.

Importunated at Kinokuniya for hours, putting the guys' patience(s) to the test. I tried to look for new books to read, inspected the shelves, again. Yet again. What if it sucks? What if days spent at the couch at home turn out to be wasted time? I can't believe I still can't get over this semi-phobic attitude I have towards trying out new reads. 2 years down the road, even with a reading guru's guidance, I'm still baby crawling through the fiction & literature section.

9:30pm+, Queued up Edmund & Pearl outside ChinaBlack. ("lazy to dance lah, let's sit around & get drinks") I had an instant disliking for several other men who were in the line, all of which had the unmistakable feature of the GI haircut. I knew then that these people were vulgarity-sprouting scum. Crude, impolite, horny. Nothing but breathe, eat, sleep, shit army. Macho talk. But above all, I hated them because I know that, whether I liked it or not, I am one of them. I hate how I remind myself everytime I do.

I talk too much about army life. Its addictively fun to bitch with other NS men about your common pains, its the typical Singaporean male adult's version of menstrual cramps. Who had more punishments, whose training was harder, who suffered more.. we compare these worthless things like they are medals of valour. Clarity hit me hard as I slurped up the last of my Starbucks coffee. Doesn't life have more to offer than indepth analysis of how many blisters/abrasions/injuries you suffered during route march? Its as if out in the civilian world, part of our subconsciousness is still in camp, dying to drag us back in to show who-knows-who we are the most garang, hardcore, elite men in the entire universe.

Smell the roses & get out of the shit bro.

12am+ Managed to get into Raffles City (although the shopping centre area is closed) through the adjacent hotel entrances. Holed up in this giant cozy air-con nest, we stoned around on benches. Maybe its the daiquiris/shirley temples/vodkas we had before, but our tongues slightly loosen & we talked about each of our past relationships. Me, flat on the bench faced upwards, spoke about regrets.

We spoke out about what we desire in our significant others. Virtues, high ideals, etc etc. We all have dream-partners in mind, perfect people- but back to reality. As Singaporeans, we grew up to expect to get whatever we want. Are we also willing to give & compromise? Can we actually change & make sacrifices, when happiness & lifelong companionship beckons? The past 2 years has made me aware that for me, the answer is NO.

We left & took a cab back home.

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