Of Black Socks And ICU

I had an eventful weekend. A very tiring one at that.

Met up with the biting female companion on Friday evening for drinks at 'my place'. She's leaving soon so might as well. Three friends from the legal fratenity joined later and we had a good time over a few beers and a bottle of Famous Grouse.

I ended up at the female companions house for more beers and left at about 5:30am. Before you get any funny ideas, we did not do anything except talked. Anyway, we couldn't do anything primarily because her mother was emerging in and out of her bedroom. Insomnia, my female companion said. And also because female companion was nursing her time of the month. Damn, my life of near misses!!!. I would have said 'hello' to mom but I could tell she was groggy and all. She did text her daughter this - "What is your friend doing here? And he's wearing black socks". I later found out that her mother has this thing about men's legs in general and black socks. Note to self : Never, ever wear black socks to female companion's house ever again. Sheeeesssshhhh...

On other news, Sixthseal.com checked himself in a certain private hospital due to a bad withdrawal episode. I visited him on Saturday evening and when I saw him I thought he did not qualify to be admitted in the Intensive Care unit / High Dependency Unit. Emphasis on the words 'Intensive' and 'High Dependency'. He was having fun while people on the next bed were literally dying. No. He was in chemical heaven. Just like he wants it.

I saw him again on Sunday and gave him a book by Herman Hesse. Its a good read. I hope it kept him awake. He's checking out today but I doubt if this is going to be the last time he checks himself in.

Hang in there bro.

"Watch me as I fall from grace,
Laugh at me as I drunkenly fall on my face,
No rope to pull me out of my hell,
where I end up, only time will tell".

Jesus Carlos Ramos

I was at the Rainforest Music Festival this year on 7 to 9 July. If not for my two buddies from Johor who wanted to have a taste of what it was like, I would have not attended. You see, the event has become too commercialised and the line up of musicians have not very much improved since 2002. But thats my opinion.

And so I was there for the three nights. And it was a riot!!! There is much to tell but I shall refrain from doing so here in case I might compromise the privacy and good name of certain individuals who were staying in my chalet. A chalet which was meant for 6 persons ended up with 20 odd very, very, very, very highly intoxicated people. You got it right - freeloaders and party crashers most of them, but all was good. I am not complaining and in fact, if it wasn't for the big company, I wouldn't had so much of fun.

The boys and girls were beautiful. I scanned around at my guests and I found out I was the oldest. Average age of guests - 21 years!!! I know some of you envy me but really, you should. Imagine this, young things in bikinis walking around your dig. Young things making up everywhere. Young things fucking in the bedroom (without having the courtesy of locking the friggin doors). Young things fucking in the bathroom because all 6 beds were occupied by young things fucking!!!

I just stood on the sidelines and watched. It made me reminisce on my younger days when I was at that age. Did I score? No. But I felt deprived.

And then as if the heavens were watching and disaproving of the orgies of sex, drugs and alcohol that prevailed, God sent the guy up there to smite us with brimstone fire and other biblical plagues.

Enter Carlos Ramos of Hawaii.

He was our neighbour and perhaps due to the strong smell of certain herbal constituants and happy noises, his curiosity got the better of him and he walked to our dig. You could imagine the shock on everyone's faces when he appeared at the door (we were casually passing that certain herbal constituants in a certain aparatus around and laughing). There was a minute silence until someone said "That's friggin Jesus at the door!".

I nearly flipped and I swear one of the boys fell on his kness and started worshiping. It was so hillarious. So we invited him in and he, exactly like the biblical Jesus, mingled with sinners and dined with us.

Wherever you are Carlos Ramos of Hawaii, God bless you.

Touched

Thats me in the red 'T'.

I had a good night last night. If the photo is any indication of how good it was, lets just say that I haven't been that happy for quite awhile. Maybe it was the amount of drinks we had or the company last night. Perhaps its all that.

So there I was, yet again at my place together with sixthseal.com. I haven't spoken to the man for sometime now and it was great to see him. We had a lot to catch up. He was in high spirits on account that he was with a ladyfriend earlier and he had some taste of...errrmmmmm, 'iron' he said. Disgusting son-of-a-bitch! And of course his obligatory dosage of stuff of which I shall not reveal here. But if you know sixthseal.com as well as I do, you know what I'm refering to. He looked rather gaunt and in serious need to put on weight. But with his interest in that certain something, I was not surprised. We spoke of his interest and how the same is actually wrecking havoc to his well being.

And then I asked him if he knew a certain Ms M from Sibu who was doing Pharmacy in NUS. Pharmaceuticals, by the way is one of his interest and hence why I asked him if he knew this person. He beamed and said he did and in fact had a huge crush on her when they were in high school. If he only knew the rest of my story. But that was a few years ago. I was very happy then too.

Two friends of the female persuasion arrived very much later which brightened our night further.

There was a lot of photo shoots in very odd poses. Like that one there. This woman, I tell you is a basket full of surprises. While we were in a conversation, she abruptly said, 'Hey, can I touch you there?' Smiling and looking at the general direction of my crotch. I said 'Hell! Yeah!!!'. Twice. I mean, how many woman asked you that this year? Because I'm such a sentimental bastard, I asked if her actions be imortalised. Quite taken aback by the request she decided, she smiled and agreed. And thats how that one got up there.

I like this woman. She's sexy, smart, intelligent, witty and unpredictable. Ingredients of what makes a woman beautiful. Very desirable, this woman. But be warned. Beneath that fascade, she can be difficult and is known to have emotional episodes the size of an effing small island. And she bites. Really, she does. These two marks on each of my shoulders are testament to that.

And no, I did not score last night.

Peace breached

I woke up late this morning. Very late. Thanks to my over indulgence last night at my place. I was in bed at 3:30am.

I am so used to waking up at 7:45am every morning that no matter what time I hit the sack, I'm up at 7 friggin 45 every morning. Its biological conditioning they say. Hence, why I have no need of an alarm clock. I proved them wrong today.

I was rudely awakened from my slumber at 9:45am; a full two hours from the usual time. And I was late for work. No biggie there as I'm never on time at the office unless very necessary. It comes with the territory. I am, after all, one of the big kahunas.

I got up with a nasty headache, sat on my pad, uttered a small prayer (i am a good christian boy) and fucking remembered I had a meeting to attend to at 10:30am. Took a quick shower and drove off. I was obviously late for the meeting but since I was not a major contributor, my presence was conveniently ignored.

I was at the office just before lunch and as I sat at my desk, there was this nagging feeling that something was not right. I couldn't put a finger to it but it was there. And then it hit me. I fucking forgot my fucking handphone at home. I was contemplating of going back to get it but then I thought, why not have a peace of mind for a while. I have a love hate relationship with my handphone and not having it near me this morning was, somewhat a relief. And peace I had until a few minutes ago when my evil sister called to announce that she was near the office and for fucks sake, had it with her. *sigh* so much for a little bit of peace.

Speaking of peace, my place was a war zone last night. You see, my place is a peaceful establishment set in an equally peaceful area. But last night the peace was breached. This gung hung lady walked in, approached a table of which I assumed the boyfriend was in and started hurling verbal abuses at his being. I couldn't make what she was saying but suffice to say that none of it was nice.

She walked out and was seen making some phone calls on her mobile. The boyfriend followed and seconds later they were throwing kicks and punches at each other. And guess what? The friggin' dude was floored!!! Fucking floored, I tell you. I so do not want a girlfriend like her. I had a good view from where I was sitting and I saw the poor sod actually go down. She then casually walked back inside followed by now fuming said boyfriend who then pulled her and did a slammer. You could actually hear a distinct 'thud thud' when she hit her head on the concrete floor. Punches were continuosly thrown on the general direction of her face or what was left of it.

No one interfered for a while until one of the said boyfriend's friend pulled him off. Now, for the shocker - both were seated at one of the tables outside and, I could be wrong but a pow wow was called and both were actually smilling and laughing afterwards.

What the fuck?

My Place

I was over at the watering hole again yesterday evening after work. I'm seriously not considering any detoxification program anytime sooner. The urge is too much to ignore sometimes, you know. I like to describe myself as a social drinker, if there's any truth in that. But that is what I like to believe.

I will call this place 'my place' because I have morphed into a resident furniture. I love the place. The barman, having me patronizing their establishment for the past couple of months, found it strange that a person is able to do an 8 hour sitting at a time. Alone. Thats what he said to me recently. He recalls seeing me entering the place for the very first time to find my now designated usual seat at the bar. I averaged 10 or 11 mugs at the end of each nights I was there. On some nights it was more. No one spoke to me. However, after a whole four weeks or so of visitation, barman himself took courage and approached me to say 'Hello'. I obliged and the rest is history as they say. But it took barman 4 weeks to get there and when I asked why, he said I didn't look the 'approachable' type. He decribed me as constantly staring at nothing and was too quiet. He said I had this 'look'. I looked like I had issues. So best everyone left me alone which was fine by me becuase thats the whole reason why I was there in the first place.

I don't know. I may be all of that.

I dare say, I'm fast becoming one of their favourite drunk at the bar and it is not unusual to find me actually pulling down the shutters at the end of certain nights. I leave it to your imagination as to the state of my composure on those nights. Its not very pretty. But I digress.

So there was this one evening after dinner that I was walking to my ride when I heard an old 70's number being played. Yes, from a pub. I walked in and took a seat as usual at the bar.

And there she stood. How beautiful she looked, how unearthly, when she said 'Hi!...first time?'. I said, 'Yes'.

Cool and clear, there swam in her eyes a conscious sadness. These eyes of hers seemed to have suffered all imaginable sufferings and to have acquiesced in it. I can tell.

Her lips spoke with difficulty and as though something hindered them. As though a keen coldness had numbed her face. But between her lips at the corners of her mouth where the tip of her tongue showed at rare intervals, there was a sweet sensuality and inward delight that contradicted the expression of her face and the tone of her voice.

A short lock hung down over the smooth expanse of her forehead, and from this corner of her forehead where the lock of hair brushed her cheeks, her boyish welled up time to time like a breath of life and cast the spell of hermaphrodite. I listened to her speak.

And thats when I fell.

Strength

I must try to be honest with myself more. Yes, I did say that I'll give the watering hole a miss yesterday but somehow the craving was too much to ignore. No, dont get me wrong. I certainly do not have an indugence issue. My circle of friends tend to believe otherwise but personally I think I am in control. The last time I went on a self detoxing program was three months ago and now I dont remember how good that felt. I felt in control, strong but mostly healthy. My attempt to give it another go yesterday failed and theres this event again later tonight...crap!!! I think I'll start next week.

But alas, I cannot feign bravery and stoicism. Pathetic, weak, whatever right? Perhaps I am all these. Perhaps why I find it so difficult to whine nowadays is that I want to deny these things, hide the truth from everyone, present a good, solid front. I'm good at this.

I was expecting to do my usual 7-8 hours sitting last night but for some reason I felt a little too tipsy when I hit no. 9. I decided to run. If there is any momment that I despise when indulging is that when I'm not numb enough to enjoy the bliss. Last night was one of those.

I got home feeling deprived and worse, was unable to sleep. I randomly pulled a magazine, flipped through the pages and found a little read called 'When We Dont Measure Up'. Some excerpt I thought was very relevant to me. Like this one...

"Out of desperation, we secretly try to get what we want from people by living up to their expectations without letting them know what we're after or that we're even in need. Our fear of disapproval or rejection and our desperate craving for acceptance is part of the reason we try so hard to live up to the expectations of others and feel so guilty when we don't.

There's no doubt that our strategies work, but for how long and to what degree? Can we totally escape our disappointment and protect ourselves from what we fear? Can we actually earn enough acceptance and approval to fill the emptiness in our hearts. The answer, of course, is no. Our strategies are a poor investment. We get little relief, shelter, or satisfaction compared to the amount of time and energy we invest in them. Even worse, they drive us to the brink of exhaustion. We rarely relax or deeply enjoy life. We live under a tremendous pressure to make sure we don't let others down or become a burden. But we can't keep it up. Inevitably, someone sees us as disappointing or needy.

For those of us who are burdened with a sense of never measuring up, we can start facing the truth by admitting that while we have our faults, we have also been unjustly criticized and/or abandoned by significant people in our lives, and that their mistreatment or lack of involvement has deeply affected us. As a result, we struggle with fears and disappointments that otherwise would not be present to the degree that they are."

There is more. A lot more. And its uncanny to read something that speaks so closely to what I used to feel. I have gone through this phase and grown out of it. It happens sometimes now though but nothing I can't deal with.

At least thats what I would like to believe.

Exausted

I'm exhausted.

From work and from the emotional roller coaster I've been riding lately. On one hand, I am elated. I've not had my interest peaked by anything interesting. And here I am thinking God, had answered my prayers and turned my heart to stone.

But on the other hand, I'm pissed off because of the melancholy disposition I am right now. I define this state I am as such because I just don't know what to call it anymore. It could be something else. It's one of those times when you just can't understand the emotion stirring inside. I look happy but am I really? I feel depressed mostly but I don't seem so. I am anxious. Worried that this, like so many misadventures will end up to be yet another personal disaster.

Its Friday and I should be in better mood. I am not. I think I should just take some days off.

I'll start by missing the watering hole later this evening.

Late

I am late she said, smiling. Puzzled, I asked what she meant. She explained and my mind went on a 300mph crash course down the mental highway - down south. But thats another story.

Demented soul

The cloak of night settles on me like a blanket...
and I, breathless
Once again I succumb to you my demons.
Twisted and scarred...
I feel nothing and yet pain overwhelms my mind...my soul.
I see nothing but darkness ahead...
The horizon unseemingly too distant to comprehend.
I falter under this weight...and then I submit.
I grope and stretch out my arms
and feel void...is this the end?
My heart beats and it pounds against my chest...but emptiness
Voices in my head are the only audible sound...I cry.
And then silence.

Demented

I am feeling demented today. Yet again....