Saturday, April 9
Back from another awakening - Triumvirate Outing (capitalised and bolden to signify its importance).
I have been very vague in my blog of late, or so they claim.
Confusion? Random ramblings? Their guesswork needs some improvement.
The two masalahs lah.
Well, what can I say in self defence?
I learnt fear.
I have allowed fear to reign this thought-haven and coat my words with wool.
That's why things always seem so woolly.
Ha, ha!
Alright, alright - enough of word puns.
See?
I learnt to let go and be more light-hearted here.
For the sake of my triumvirs, I can forgo everything else and dive into the river of madness with them.
For the sake of Lembek Jean and Mickey Esther, I'll throw all caution to the wind.
Prepare yourself for a fresh dose of Debbiean sarcasm,
dark humour and cutting comments.
So as usual, I was bullied by Lembek Jean into emotional blackmail (and physical) as she manipulated me by having me travel from Terminal 1 to 2 and back to 1 again (and somemore after that). It's pretty sad how I allow her to get such a hold on me. But then again, she's lembek so I ought to show her more sympathy.
Good'ol Mickey Esther stayed true to her word and gave us a treat. Not at Grand Hyatt like what Jean wanted, though. Back to our old haunt, Changi Airport. Alas, we didn't get to try The Soup Restaurant. I really like their Samsui Chicken, you see.
Another time, another time.
There's still the movie marathon!
Oh, and just bear in mind, my dear triumvirs, that I dislike answering phone calls or replying smses. To everyone else, as well.
I think I like teaching alot.
Way too much, in fact.
Perhaps even more than writing for journalism.
Now, now.
That will be some kind of bad news for me.
Okay, to rewind things a l'il, I have been doing relief teaching in Anglican High School. Enjoying myself thoroughly, doing English Literature with the Sec Ones. It helped that they were doing poetry now. And I am not too bad at Practical Criticism myself, after all.
Maybe I will fulfill my childhood dreams of being a teacher.
Yes, yes - I did want to be a teacher badly many years ago, and the feeling's returning now.
but things will have to wait for another 2 years and any feelings will probably be worn out by then.
We shall see.
I don't know what it means to be frank any longer.
The distinction between being brutally blunt and truly honest is no more.
They say great people are often misunderstood.
In that case, I doubt I want to be great in any way after all.
I know what they mean when they say I evolved, devolved or mutated.
In Sixpence None The Richer's words,
"So I'm changing who I am
'cause what I am's not good.
And I know you love me now
but I don't see why you should."
- I've Been Waiting, Sixpence
I lost quite a bit of myself over the past year.
Not that I've been good to begin with, but somehow I even lost that little I had.
I feel thoroughly rotten because I know despite my being as such, there are people who still love me. There's my family, my true friends and best of all, God. I always say expectations kill the soul and these people love me without imposing expectations on me. Sometimes, it seems that they want me to do certain things and do it their way, but I realised there is only a thin line between expectation and hope. And the latter is always what saves the soul.
d e b b e e e kvetched at 1:33 PM
