Christmas Cheer And Jeer

Here's A Little Festive Cheer For Depressives Like Myself Who Has Little To Cheer About
It was one of those afternoons. I had absolutely NOTHING to do. Not that I had anything to do in the first place. Because the MOTHERFUCKERS at MOE wouldn't want moi to earn a few bucks off their rich asses even though their MOTHER FUCKING schools have enough funds to program other activities.

I had been deliberating over a couple of days and visited the shops a few times. I even bumped into a dude who had the same idea as moi. He was a dude whom I knew from the community library and exactly the kind of personality type I was.

We were staring and admiring and deliberating. calculations and miscalculations going on in our heads.

One half of our brain keeps egging us on, reassuring us TO GO AHEAD, IT ISN"T SOME DIAMOND-STUDDED TENS OF THOUSANDS OF DOLLARS PRICED wedding gowns. It isn't even some gold-plated bathtubs or faucets. Not even gold-dusted dildoes or latex.

The other half admonished us for extravagance (no less extravagant than the NKF I suppose) and how our mothers used to make us feel as guilty as TT Durai if we should even think of SPENDING MONEY, ANY KIND OF MONEY, even if it was on all those nice books the schools had so EVILLY AND CUNNINGLY instructed some book vendors to display BLATANTLY at the tuckshop tables to catch our attention.

Someone Tell Me How Silverfishes' Existences Come About And I Will Richly Reward You With Free Hugs And Kisses (Like Those Dudes On Orchard Road Are Doing)
After all we were expected to be seen but not heard. We were supposed to stay home the whole time and DO ABSOLUTELY NOTHING. Stare at the four walls and hopefully a lizard will drop from the sky.

Which it did. Not a lizard. But two bed bugs and a colony of ants and a silverfish.

Now I am not sure if these had pursued me from Psycho's place or they were just hibernating somewhere at Tim's (Sidney or Sydney) and Auntie's place, just waiting for a poor, unsuspecting and skin-sensitive dude like myself to lay his head on the HORRIFICALLY stained pillow and bed-sheet before they surprise and pounce on me, leaving me bleeding to my untimely death from scratching my itchy skin to THY HELL THAT COMETH.

Which explains why I am ridding myself of some old baggages, literally, figuratively and physically.

After all that silverfish did drop on me bed as soon as I fished out my book in a carrier from my old suitcase. I had to squash it to death on the bedding, blood-stained as it were, just as I squashed the two bed bugs on the same bedding.

What Kinda Christmas Presents I Got Myself
I could tell that THE ITE DUDE and me were deprived, indigent dudes from underprivileged and disadvantaged families. To buy OR not to buy, that was our dilemma. In the end I did.

I couldn't take it anymore. It was also a kind of festive cheer for me. A little something for myself to get me out of a terribly depressing and gloomy spell I had been having lately. You can tell from my face I could jump off the MRT tracks anytime and kill myself.

I hopped from shop to shop, picking up that nice ADIDAS leatherette sneakers and that nice NIKE AirMax runners and shorts.

My last shopping stop was that even nicer Guess Collection chronograph. Something I had gleaned from Men's Folio. One of four SE-1 exclusive collection. A rose-gold plated, PVD coated and black carbon fibre dialled timepiece.

Hey! I Wanna Spruce Up My Face Too
Then of course there are the shop's staff. They looked nice. Really, really, really nice. Cosmetically altered nice. I mean I could tell the dude had a nose-job and those doey-almond eyes weren't exactly genetic. There could even be a chin implant swivelling somewhere underneath that swell and noble-looking jawline.

When I pocketed my coveted and expensive watch home that very night, I was trembling all over with excitement. It was like GOD had just ordained me sainthood and I was about to enter the hallowed gallery of holy matyrs. When I die that is.

That night, I took it out over and over again to gawk at it. I couldn't get over my purchase. I pestered the staff for a free gift. They gave me a GUESS mink-fur purse with its logo emblazoned in white over its sky-blue fabric skin.

Spread A Little Christmas Cheer
A few days later, I put it into a little Tangs shopping carrier and presented it to a regular cleaner whom I vaguely knew but instantly recognised and thought to be needy at Bishan North Shopping Mall.

My gloomy spirit has temporarily lifted.

I Can't Figure Out What The Hell Am I Doing Here On Earth - Can You? And It Ain't Nothing To Do With Religion
But what lingers is still that emptiness inside. An emptiness of desperation, of isolation and of hopelessness. A desperation no less driven by the people I am holing up with not by choice but by circumstances the past year. The grouches, the meanies and the equally unhappys.

A feeling that not I alone feel but the countless other lonely, unhappy and empty souls I spot flitting all around me during this time of a supposedly rich, glamorous, commercialised but meaningless festive celebration.

How is it that we are a nation so rich but yet so poor?

Unbelievable Prices
A double-rotating silver ring going at 15 times lower than its usual price. A bright orange two-tone tee half its usual price. What shopping bargains!

Thou Ark No Better Than Thee
First my short work-out towel got smudged with grime. Then two distinct rust-spots appeared at its edges. To aggravate matters, I cannot decide where to put my towel when a work-out machine has both a back-rest and arm rest. I sweat in all those areas.

In fact it proves to be a hindrance when I do stand-up exercises and there is nowhere to hang it. It slips away from me back when I do the seated dip or pull-down pec-flys.

Are we enforcing the work-out towel rule correctly and a little too earnestly?

Quit While You Should
Hey "educationists and educators" of Singapore! I hate to say this. But if you think you had fulfilled your teaching pledges just by breeding elite academicians schooled in elite schools and institutions along with their equally elite and sterling academic results and elite sportspeople or elite businesspeople or professionals or whatever, you might as well call it quits from the education service. I know I would.

If these "elites" didn't have a single compatible brain cell to come up with better policies or thinking or rationale or have a heart or compassion or anything for anyone and don't even know or have lived life or have no first-hand experience of anything or is so out of touch with reality, IT MEANS NOTHING.

Quit while you should.