I’m currently typing away in my darling lappy (4 years and still surviving! Take that, Mac!!!) with the stereo blasting away my current favourite album. I had just spend the last hour mopping the whole house and A is out swimming.
The whole house is mine and mine alone….
OK lah, I admit I like the couple life. Every decision I can’t make, someone can make for me. Every hug I give, I get one in return. Every meal I make, I make extra.
But sometimes... sometimes... even 2 people in 1 house can be too crowded, especially when you don’t lock the doors. You know you aren’t alone and that enough can stop you from doing exactly what you wanted, like blasting music...
In fact, being considerate can be tiring.
So today for that 1 hour break of me-time….I am drumming out this post.
Today’s entry is a bit irrelevant and redundant. It’s about music, specifically music coming from my sound system. It’s Chinese R&B. It’s soft and sweet and dreamy. It’s upbeat and sad and hopeful. It’s heartache and promises.
I’m listening to it and thinking of the person who gave it to me. He is much like this album….
I bet you are asking me, Woah! What does that mean? What does AKK mean?
Well frankly, you don’t have to suspect anything actually; it means exactly what I am saying.
I'm saying that I like the album very much and I like the person who gave it to me very much too.
Perhaps a little too much.
I wanted this blog to be honest, an outlet that blows the silent part of me wide open like a fresh gust of wind through fresh laundry. I want this place to be the place I can say anything without censure because I want to be the one to admit that I am not perfect. That I’ve got my base desires, that I’ve got this dark side of me, that I’ve got my roving eyes and my fantasies.
And yet, every time I try to write something honest, I think about the people who know me, my friends, Chwee Kueh…the everyday people who read my blog and I hesitate, not only because I am a coward and don’t dare to show myself to be less morally upright than I should, but also because I don’t want to disappoint the multitudes of people who believes in fairy tales, the Oddball and the Prince Charming coming together in the burst of romance.
How can the Oddball now possibly think of anyone else other than the irascible Prince Charming? Audacious, you say. But mostly, you meant Ungateful.
But as the tracks spin themselves and the stereo wraps me like a soft cocoon, all I can think about is why?
Why can’t I stop these lips from quirking? I hastily slapped my face with both hands.
There’s a lot of things that can run through the mind everyday, but nailing them into words gives them a permanent address and a definite personality….
So perhaps I shall just end this here….
Perhaps there will be a second parter that announces to that this post was a mistake….
Perhaps like the PPQ volume, I wish to put myself under my own scrutiny and run it out like a drama, willing myself to go and face my own Life, question its worth, questions its morals, question its beliefs.
Whatever. For now, the music hums throughout the whole house and I am doing my little bobbing akin to the Muppets in Sesame Street. For now, my thoughts are only mine. For now, there’s only me.
Que Sera Sera…