Thursday, April 27, 2006
and then yesterday said, "Hello!"
Y'know, i'm really only eighteen years old or i'm already eighteen years old and i feel... old. I still tell my parents i never want to get married. I still don't care if i'm single and loving it. I still have no idea how eighteen-year olds are supposed to behave, think and look. I still plan my future as if i'll never grow a wrinkle or crack a bone or get blind-er and deaf-er with sagging breasts and be the proud owner of a toothless smile and carry the purple EZlink card and get on the bus/train only to be offered a seat by the youngsters and have them little kids running around and snatching my walking stick away from me and have the street caricaturer have me sketched looking uncannily like Liang Po Po. I still think the world is going to last forever.
And i think i owe this all to my nagging fear of reality. I plan ahead but i live day-to-day. Yeah like who lives month-to-month or year-to-year huh? If i could hibernate, i would do it throughout the four seasons. I don't want to see tomorrow if given a chance, or just, don't tell me it's tomorrow already. I hardly remember watching yesterday drive past althought i sit up every night counting the stars 'til they fade goodbye. Given this attitude towards life, it leaves little wonder as to why my mom worries incessantly over my future. I have bundles of unleashed energy and i don't know how to use them to my full advantage. Often, as a result, i burn out easily.
As of late, i've been thinking alot about my monetary situation and its future state. Wouldn't it be easier if i were an heiress to a diamond industry for example? I'd just stash my monehh in biscuit tins and under my mattress if need be, and the rest i keep in my pocket and my mouth. Dangerous? Nahh... i have plenty. I'll hardly notice if any opportunistic person comes up and befriends me only to get me to chat with him and when i start to open my mouth, Yusof Ishaks in red, green, turquoise, orange and maybe purple will start flowing out of my mouth. No i won't even notice. But no, the only money i have, i guard them ferociously in my POSB account. And most of the time, they suspiciously leak out of my account to the accounts of... (gasp!) shops in malls? How suspicious!
Probably that's why God sent a little someone to me in the form of a financial services consultant (let me get his namecard and confirm the right post)... yes that's right, from a renowned organization to render his services (render his services?) to me but instead i got the wrong message and disregarded the help but fell in like with him. In like. Now would anyone please analyze me?
Sure the savings plan sounds meaty, the incentives actually. I'm very much interested, in spite of the dubiety i harbour greatly (though not as much as the liking of the ahem service provider). However, against my better judgement, i had unintentionally mix the formal with the informal and now i'm just back to what i've always been known to be -- confused.
I see money, i see him. I see wrongs, i see him. I see the other race, i see him. I see the nearby junior college, i see him. I see my mobile, i see him. I went to Food Culture just now, i thought i saw him. I see his namecard, i see him. I see his former collegemate, i see him. Shit, i even see him when i board buses. Captain SBS? I hear Luxurious, i hear him.
I won't complain that i have a tendency to develop soft spots for the wrong kind of people because how was i to know they're wrong for me? And no wait. Who even judges? None, save for the Almighty.
I may be able to provide reasons for reasons, but i can never explain why it has to happen. Because i'll never know why. Just like when i decided to end a friendship i once held dear, knowing it's the only way i could put an end to the destruction we both cause to each other, i could never tell anyone why i did that but the only difference is that i knew. I can't make anyone see why, but i knew. And i guess, he knew it too. I still follow up, just to see how he's been doing and if i hadn't changed the URL of my blog, i'm sure he'd do the same for me too. But that's all there is to it -- a has-been friendship.
So now. Mr Financial Services Consultant shall remain just that, my consultant. And i, his client. A consultant who kinda cares? Kinda care enough to check on how i've been dealing? Strange and almost frustrating to see how his alter ego (which i like so much) clashed hard with his real-life persona (which i don't like so much). But then again, what do i know of him?
Goodness. I've said too much. About everything and nothing. And by the way, i'm actually nineteen and learning to love it. (=
[edit]40min later...
Shit la shit la shit la shit la shit laaaaa. I was on the Friendster network, clicked on a 2nd degree contact, went to the photo album, saw a picture THAT LOOKED LIKE HIM AH! Damn shitass. But this one is in a green uniform. His is blue. Okay whatever la. Told you, everyone looked like him now.
[/edit]
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fara // 00:48
and then yesterday said, "Hello!"
Y'know, i'm really only eighteen years old or i'm already eighteen years old and i feel... old. I still tell my parents i never want to get married. I still don't care if i'm single and loving it. I still have no idea how eighteen-year olds are supposed to behave, think and look. I still plan my future as if i'll never grow a wrinkle or crack a bone or get blind-er and deaf-er with sagging breasts and be the proud owner of a toothless smile and carry the purple EZlink card and get on the bus/train only to be offered a seat by the youngsters and have them little kids running around and snatching my walking stick away from me and have the street caricaturer have me sketched looking uncannily like Liang Po Po. I still think the world is going to last forever.
And i think i owe this all to my nagging fear of reality. I plan ahead but i live day-to-day. Yeah like who lives month-to-month or year-to-year huh? If i could hibernate, i would do it throughout the four seasons. I don't want to see tomorrow if given a chance, or just, don't tell me it's tomorrow already. I hardly remember watching yesterday drive past althought i sit up every night counting the stars 'til they fade goodbye. Given this attitude towards life, it leaves little wonder as to why my mom worries incessantly over my future. I have bundles of unleashed energy and i don't know how to use them to my full advantage. Often, as a result, i burn out easily.
As of late, i've been thinking alot about my monetary situation and its future state. Wouldn't it be easier if i were an heiress to a diamond industry for example? I'd just stash my monehh in biscuit tins and under my mattress if need be, and the rest i keep in my pocket and my mouth. Dangerous? Nahh... i have plenty. I'll hardly notice if any opportunistic person comes up and befriends me only to get me to chat with him and when i start to open my mouth, Yusof Ishaks in red, green, turquoise, orange and maybe purple will start flowing out of my mouth. No i won't even notice. But no, the only money i have, i guard them ferociously in my POSB account. And most of the time, they suspiciously leak out of my account to the accounts of... (gasp!) shops in malls? How suspicious!
Probably that's why God sent a little someone to me in the form of a financial services consultant (let me get his namecard and confirm the right post)... yes that's right, from a renowned organization to render his services (render his services?) to me but instead i got the wrong message and disregarded the help but fell in like with him. In like. Now would anyone please analyze me?
Sure the savings plan sounds meaty, the incentives actually. I'm very much interested, in spite of the dubiety i harbour greatly (though not as much as the liking of the ahem service provider). However, against my better judgement, i had unintentionally mix the formal with the informal and now i'm just back to what i've always been known to be -- confused.
I see money, i see him. I see wrongs, i see him. I see the other race, i see him. I see the nearby junior college, i see him. I see my mobile, i see him. I went to Food Culture just now, i thought i saw him. I see his namecard, i see him. I see his former collegemate, i see him. Shit, i even see him when i board buses. Captain SBS? I hear Luxurious, i hear him.
I won't complain that i have a tendency to develop soft spots for the wrong kind of people because how was i to know they're wrong for me? And no wait. Who even judges? None, save for the Almighty.
I may be able to provide reasons for reasons, but i can never explain why it has to happen. Because i'll never know why. Just like when i decided to end a friendship i once held dear, knowing it's the only way i could put an end to the destruction we both cause to each other, i could never tell anyone why i did that but the only difference is that i knew. I can't make anyone see why, but i knew. And i guess, he knew it too. I still follow up, just to see how he's been doing and if i hadn't changed the URL of my blog, i'm sure he'd do the same for me too. But that's all there is to it -- a has-been friendship.
So now. Mr Financial Services Consultant shall remain just that, my consultant. And i, his client. A consultant who kinda cares? Kinda care enough to check on how i've been dealing? Strange and almost frustrating to see how his alter ego (which i like so much) clashed hard with his real-life persona (which i don't like so much). But then again, what do i know of him?
Goodness. I've said too much. About everything and nothing. And by the way, i'm actually nineteen and learning to love it. (=
[edit]40min later...
Shit la shit la shit la shit la shit laaaaa. I was on the Friendster network, clicked on a 2nd degree contact, went to the photo album, saw a picture THAT LOOKED LIKE HIM AH! Damn shitass. But this one is in a green uniform. His is blue. Okay whatever la. Told you, everyone looked like him now.
[/edit]
fara // 00:48
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Friendster.
Email.
♥ Fara. Forever20. Nurse. In the pursuit of kidnapping Happy.
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