Bang Bang

I feel like I've been shot down. Just that Nancy Sinatra's not the one who pulled the trigger. I think I did. I think I shot myself.

"That awful sound.. Bang bang.."

Wokey I realise that doesn't really make a lot of sense, but do I ever?

So.

The exams are over, my holidays have begun. I'm pretty much free for about five weeks or so, minus the occasional hospital visit to tie up some loose ends.

It'll be our last proper holiday. Last ever. Longest one hereafter will be like.. two weeks?

Nevermind, don't even wanna go there.

The practical case wasn't too bad. Got breast cancer. Nice chinese lady with one breast missing. Could've turned out much much worse. Could've gotten some weird neuro case, like myasthenia gravis.. or Guillain-Barre's.

Chiu. Moving on.

***

There was a time when I was the champion (at least I'd like to think so). Persistent. When I'd never say die.


Kinda like him.

I'm so.. lazy now. Which really worries me.

Will the world lose the gift of little senti-emo TSHs running around in the future? It would be too disappointing to deny, I know. But how? Hmm.. How?



Women. Can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em (not really.. but can't live interestingly without 'em).

How come they can't be simple and straightforward? Easy to read? Actually comprehensible? Like instructions for microwave popcorn?

Mixed signals, sometimes no reception at all. Toot.. Toot.. Error in connection.. Lame. Ha.

Damn fucked up balls. When I was younger (read: idealistic, with raging hormones) I'd have taken every single thing, even the most vague, fucked up issue.. as a challenge. I wouldn't rest till I was sure I had beaten every single one of those little shits into the ground, teeth shattered and all that cool macho shite.

Now?

Vague haa? Slightly confusing haa?

Sheesh. Okay I'll go make chinese tea now and listen to Kisschasy (Tzelin!).

I guess I just don't really know how much I want certain things right now.

I don't want to seem insincere and bored, so it's probably not a good idea to let up too easy.

But.

I don't wanna seem like the loser who just doesn't get it.. and presses on, much to his disadvantage and shame. Shame, balls, shame. Shy okay.

Dastardly ego. You have cost me once again.

I wonder why that was never really an issue. Maybe I'm getting older, and I'm actually giving a shit about what people think.

Fuck me. I'm becoming an uncle.

Tiu. Thank shite it's the holidays. I can actually spend some time and thought on this, guilt-free.

Chiuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu why does she have to be so.. perfect?

I'm sure I'm not obsessed with an illusion. You know, how sometimes you think you like this person.. how she's fantastic and all.. but it's all just a sack of shit because you spent so much time thinking of her, you've made her up to be something totally... unreal.

I call that the Secondary School Syndrome (SSS).

I'm helluva sure this is not a case of severe SSS. I wish it was, but it isn't.

The thing is, she doesn't exactly fit (like Lego) the mental picture of what I want. What I've always wanted, what I've pretty much always gone for.

But!

It all (somehow) falls into place. It's like some freaking EUREKA! moment, when you realise what you've always wanted isn't really all that, and there's actually someone out there with the ability to awaken you from the blissful, ignorant wet dream that's been your life so far.



Sniff. She's like.. what I want, with the bonus of what I never knew I wanted, but I'm sure I want now, failing which I will just go and marry a monkey.

Very Jerry Maguire. Man this is so stupid.

I'm apologise for putting you through this lame ass gay shit metro ramble, people. I love you all.

If you're in Penang and you're feeling peckish, give me a call, and we shall have chinese tea together.

I'm off to get my blood tested now. Pray that I don't have hepatitis. Or HIV. Or SSS.

This entry was posted by tsh, on Sunday, July 02, 2006. You can bitch back.