Sleepless in Singapore

Valentine’s Day
A friend (let’s call him Mr. W) messaged me to say that he is going to Vietnam to end his affair. I advised him to end his relationship with his Chinese wife as well. Mr. W once told me he have had enough of women from China. In that case why prolong the agony? He never loved her anyway. He may not realize it, but my advice to him is the best Valentine’s gift he will ever receive.

Cursed, possibly damned
When my project mate came to class, she sat and left two empty seats between us. I don’t know why. Do I have two horns on my head, a fanged smile and a long forked tail? Last time I checked, I looked rather normal, albeit not handsome by any standard. Maybe it was night time and she feared I would shapechange into some beast, howl at the moon and then proceed to ravish her. Again, if I had lycanthropy I didn’t know anything about it. She only deigned to speak to me when she wanted to know how our project was coming along. She also enquired about my job-hunting. Her concern touched me, touches me still and it makes me want to be a better man so that I can be good enough for her. To the Eighteen Hells with the fucking Law assignment!

Missed it!
I let loose a string of profanities when I logged on my university website and found I missed my end-of-chapter quizzes. The “ – “ on my grades for the two missed quizzes stared me in the face and mocked me. Still cursing, I cleared the next two, just in case I forgot again. I am sick of online studying. I am sick and tired of wasting my time with stupid online quizzes when I’d rather be having a face-to-face discussion with my professors. The next NTU, NUS or SMU full-time student who complains to me about how sickening school life is gets it big time.

Valentine Day II
There didn’t appear to be many happy couples walking around on V-Day. The deepening recession must have dampened the romantic spirit. The whoreson who said that two can live as cheaply as one was either a fairy or a virgin. Love is all about money. Women always sprout bullshit like how they prefer guys who are humorous, kind and witty but in the end they always go for the moneybags. When was the last time you saw a rubbish collector walking around with a hot chick? Look around every restaurant and shop on V-Day – it makes you feel inflation has risen 1,000% in a single day. Money may not buy you love (bullshit), but it can pay for the Viagra, condom and hotel room. Just go to Geylang, they know lots of loving all right. To Hell with romantic love, Hallmark cards, Tiffany’s, roses and candlelight dinners. And Valentine’s Day? I’ve seen road kills more appealing.

Nuisance calls
The lady from the Whitelight job agency called me and asked me if I am looking for a job. It was the fifth time she had called me and she still sounded clueless. How the Hell did she expect me to tell her my expected salary when she didn’t even specify what kind of job it was? She didn’t even know what in Tartarus the company was looking for. If she had bothered to even glance at my resume she would not have wasted our time. I should apply to be a recruiter or headhunter. If this is the standard these days I think I’d make management in no time.

Restless
I saw quite a few students practicing martial arts when I was in SP today. How I envy my juniors. During my time, the martial arts clubs in the polytechnic were so poorly run that organized training was hard to come by. Now, there is practice every day. Seeing them kick and punch brought a thrill down my spine. I have a lot of nervous energy. Physical pursuits like football have become too mild for me. I need a partner to spar with. I suppose I could sign up for a martial arts class in one of those fancy gyms. I could also take up white-collared boxing. But no. They won’t have weapon training. I love the spear, the staff, the sword and my favourite, the sabre. Too bad my master is not taking in disciples. After I attain a certain proficiency I’ll go pick some fights. If I ever get to migrate to the US or Canada, the first thing I would get is a real blade. I hate the bloody sword/sabre foils these bloody “contemporary” martial artists use. Let’s see how these jokers handle the weight of a real sword.

19-02-2009, 12.29am
I should be working on my Business Law project but instead I am writing all these. I don’t know why. Maybe writing relaxes me, gives my existence some resemblance of meaning. I curse the day I took up engineering and I still rue the day I put pen to paper and joined the military. Seven years gone to Gehenna, if you count the fucking two and a half years of slavery we true blue Singaporean males have to endure. (It’s called National Service and a male foreigner who decides to say the national pledge DOES NOT need to serve.) Instead of being a third-class citizen in this dungpile of a cuntry, why not be a second or third class citizen elsewhere? I’d gladly exchange my pink IC for a Canadian citizenship. Some people told me that I don’t know better, that I would appreciate this cuntry once I have been around the world. That is not being fair. First, they are making assumptions about me, that I know absolutely nothing about this world, therefore I am not qualified to judge for myself. (What am I now, Sarah Palin?) Second, they are imposing their personal feelings on me and demanding that I think like them. It is not my fault that I have never worked in a foreign country. I signed on the military because I thought I would be given the chance to travel. Join the army they say, see the world they say – four years in service and I was still grounded. A grounded personnel in the “Sky’s the Limit air force. I don’t know whether to cry or laugh. It’s not that I don’t want to go, unlike some idiots who turned down lucrative work attachments in the US. It’s just that I don’t have the chance and were I not an atheist I would have smashed the damn ancestral tablet in my house and thrown out my useless ancestors and their sorry ghosts for not looking out for me. Sometimes being an atheist really sucks. When shit happens, you can’t blame the gods.

19-02-2009, 1am
I am thirsty. I feel like a drink. Funnily enough I don’t feel like sleeping. I hate mornings. There is something wretched about the dawn of a new day. I love the night. The darkness and quiet comfort me, shroud me with peace and fill me with insights I could never have in the bright of day.

Manicure
The Lass says I am obsessed with my manicured nails. She is right. My nails grow quite fast. Already my nails are losing the curve the Lass filed for me. I can restore my nails back to their original shape, but I choose not to. May they grow, and grow fast. When they are long enough I shall file them each into a square shape. Then I shall apply some light polish to their tips. It’s time to consult the Lass again. She is now my beauty consultant.

Guess I have nothing more to write. – 1.25am.