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April 28, 2005
Silent Scream
I received two rejections today. No big deal, I know. However, for someone who is extremely desperate to leave this god-forsaken place, every rejection is a big blow to me. While thinking about this, I cannot help but find the pattern of rejections I got for job applications strangely familiar to the many times I get rejection for dates. Truth to be told, I feel more and more like Brutus Thornapple or Jon Arbuckle every day.
Sometimes, I wake up in the morning thinking how I should get out of this massively screwed life. Yet, most of the times, I wake up in the morning feeling screwed. And I do not really think YOU care anymore, do YOU?
Slowly, I am slipping further in terms of transforming into a social recluse. It is scary but discovering how I have become more indifferent to many things around me, when years ago, they would induce a strong show of emotions from within. Like when my hard disk, which stored photos of my trips to Kazakhstan and other places, crashed on Sunday, I felt nothing for the loss. Comparing this to the time when my previous hard disk, which contained my Cambodia pictures, crashed, my reaction to this piece of news was uncomfortably mild. Am I becoming more apathetic to things and events?
Maybe the big lump scare sucked the emotions out of me. I feel nothing for anything, anyone or any event right now. I just want to live and get on with whatever I should get on with.
***
As much as I tried explaining to him, I knew that his answers would all be the same. Never have I thought that doing this was akin to getting a criminal record. Now, it is there and no matter what happens, it will stick along for the rest of my life.
Immediately, the other side of me started to think of other possibilities. I could try being a writer, or a tutor, or do some freelance work. I could tear myself away from this place and move on to another place in search for places who will have little or no access to my recent past. I gave up thinking after a while.
I became tired. I did not know that dreaming could tire me as well, especially those which inevitably turned out to be empty.
***
The puzzled look on her face last evening said it all. She had expectations. She thought I would be her companion on our bus trip home, since both of us could take the same bus. I shook my head and pointed to the direction which I was heading. Possibly the combination of disappointment and frustration caused her to say “bye bye” to me. In a matter of seconds, I turned away from them and started to walk away.
So I made my way through the Wednesday evening crowd along Orchard. In another world and at another place, I could imagine myself walking along with a her, holding hands and making jokes out of weird advertising signs which littered the shopping malls in the area. She would whisper into my ear a naughty observation and I would chuckle before whispering back my response. We would be sharing a large iced lemon tea, for by then, I would have conquered my intolerance towards any caffeine intake. At times, I would accompany her as she went into a boutique or a shop when something at the window caught her eye. We would spend the work night together like this, putting all the troubles we encountered at work behind by enjoying each other’s company…
At the end of it, these were merely figments of my imagination. I dragged my feet, put my hands in the pocket and made my head droop. Slowly, the reality of it all sank in. Thoughts which tormented me already for months made their presence felt, drove away all of my daydreams and swirled around in my head as I walked past Haagen Daz. I would have loved to stop by and treat myself to some raspberry sorbet.
At times, I observed those around me: girls who were dressed to impress for a night out on their way to some watering hole, blokes in well colour-coordinated ties and smart suits rushing off to their appointment venues, Caucasian tourists holding on to their video cameras and taking a picture of the local phenomenal boutique bread shop, and most prominent of all, couples, especially those where the girl was caressing a bouquet of flowers while the bloke looked extremely pleased with himself.
When I reached Hyatt, an array of toys for the obscenely rich was there on display, telling me how far I was and how insignificant I was in this great food chain of life. There were the Ferraris, Jaguar and the odd limousine. I allowed myself the luxury of a gaze of admiration or two before I made my head droop again and focusing on my almost worn down three-year-old-pair of Hush Puppy work shoes. Immediately, I was reminded of the holes in my work socks…
That was when I realized that I no longer knew what my own definition of success was anymore.
***
I think I mentioned before about how I hated celebrating my birthdays. There were stories behind this of course, but I do not believe anyone would be interested to hear them. I mean, what gives when all that my psychologist gave as a response to my stories was a blank look.
So while a young but famous female blog celebrity would be celebrating her 21st birthday with much fanfare and aplomb, I was suddenly reminded of the time when I turned 21. To many, it was a special occasion not to be missed. To many, it represented a time to celebrate freedom at reaching the legal age (of some sorts). To many, this meant parties, chalets, barbeques, booze and being with your loved ones.
I remember how I was dressed throughout the day when I turned 21 and where I was. In the morning when I woke up, the first thing my eyes saw was not the air con unit of the chalet bedroom, but the dull and dirty pastel yellow of the ceiling of the bunk. I was dressed in a grey shirt with my bunk number written using a marker pen and a stencil on the shirt’s top left. I was wearing a black pair of shorts. An hour later, I would be decked in my jungle-green Number 4, waiting in line to collect my “wife” so that I could clean “her” with a set of tools later.
I never bothered to celebrate my 21st. Not since I was a wee child anyway and if I could help it, I wish to extend this for as long as I exist in misery.
I don’t think YOU cared then and I don’t reckon YOU would care now, although I still believe YOU exist.
***
Joke of the Day
D W at a class reunion.
Former schoolmate #1: Just moved into my terrace house with my beautiful wife last year. Got a maid as well to look after my newborn. How about you?
Former schoolmate #2: Nothing much. Just came back from the States. Company sent me there to broker a deal. Looking forward to the commission… Enough for me to pay for the Jaguar using cash at the automobile showroom! Ha ha. What about you, D W?
D W: Huh? Oh. I just finished my morning shift…
Former schoolmate #1: You work shifts? Are you an engineer or…?
D W: No la. I, er, work as a coffeeboy at Ah Heng kopitiam. I stay in a cramped 30-year-old 3-room HDB flat and take bus to work every day. I am still single, by the way. No lady will be mad enough to afford marrying me…
Posted by D W at April 28, 2005 03:36 PM