Thursday 28 April 2011

Loyalty and Betrayal


Circumstances dictate that I must soon betray a friend. As the days draw nearer to when the deed must be done, my hopeless interventions and helplessness rips me apart.


But sometimes there's more than one side...


... And you can only pick one.


Do you choose blood or water?

all image source: http://fuckyeahmodels.tumblr.com/

Wednesday 27 April 2011

Farm Dance

I've always been intrigued by the memories I have of this one guy I met in high school.

image source: http://www.flickr.com/photos/maryjanes856/

I'm definitely the neurotic type that thinks too much so I often wonder whether he was sending me the signals or was I just reading too much into nothing? To anyone reading this: Please tell me. Please tell me I wasn't making a mountain out of a no-hill (not even a mole-hill, as the saying should go). Please tell me that my love/like/interest-signal radar is not impaired. Please tell me I'm not some desperado wanting it to be something so bad that I read nothing as something. I frequently think I am an idiot for thinking that a guy likes/d me because nothing actually comes/came out of it ('it' referring to the signals I thought he was sending me) in the end, i.e. he never actually confessed and he never tried to go after me or anything, that there I was thinking that he actually liked me and was eventually going to do something about it when in fact, he did/was not! ARGH! That's why I now always tell myself to think that no guy likes me until he actually says/does something about it.


So anyway... about this guy. Okay, see, I used to play tennis in high school and there is this viewing gallery above where the tennis courts are and I noticed that the viewing gallery had become his most recent favourite hangout... might I add, during my tennis training sessions. Well, ok. I suppose I couldn't know that, but still..! I noticed him always hovering around the viewing gallery whenever I was training there and he'd be looking down at us (or me?) training. The thing is, I never exactly dared to look up at him... I didn't want to make it seem like I had noticed him there. Of course, that doesn't stop me from being extra graceful on court, while acting uberly serious about training. The second thing was that, at the time, there were only two girls in the tennis team - we used to train with both the boys' and girls' teams together. So... I mean, you could very well say he might've been interested in the other girl. That's definitely a possibility of course. But okay, here's the more important part that drives me particularly crazy!!!!

There was this one particular physical ed. lesson that we had that our teachers found much joy in thinking that they should teach us farm dancing. Well, see, the thing is, him and me: we're from different classes. And it just so happened that our physical ed. lesson falls in the same period. Normally, we'd have our physical ed. lessons in our own classes since there were enough teachers for each of them to take a class. But that one physical ed. lesson: the teachers had decided to make it a combined class in which they'd teach us how to farm dance.

image source: http://melissaeastondesign.com/blog/


For this farm dance, we had to form an inner circle and an outer circle, with girls and boys alternating each other in other circles. During the dance, the inner circle had to dance with the outer circle and the arrangement was such that we should always partner someone of the opposite sex. But then again, not always... I think because there was a disproportionate number of boys as compared to girls, with boys > girls. Therefore, there were instances where boys would end by partnering boys. So, then, we had to learn this simple dance routine, at the end of which, we'd switch places such that the entire inner circle would turn (anti-)clockwise and the entire outer circle would turn in the opposite direction.

So anyway, he was still a certain number of people away. And because the inner and outer circles were going in opposite directions, there was no certainty that we'd actually meet: firstly, because of the disproportionate number of boys and girls and the fact that we'd always miss dancing with the person standing diagonally opposite us (I hope I'm not confusing you, but then again, I don't think the technicalities of it is very vital in comprehending the story). With that in mind, I started counting... Would I meet him..?

Then the weird part comes... Before I managed to be done with counting, he suddenly asked to change places with one of the guys. At this point, I think it is necessary to give a little background introduction about Keith (the main character in my story) - with his tall, lanky built, a hint of muscles (basically, muscles which are not the over-developed kind, which I absolutely cannot stand), a boyish (yet a little mischievous-looking) face coupled with soft-looking hair that he had used styling wax to style into soft spikes (a very trendy hairstyle then being sported by the boys in the school) in order to complete the boyish look, he was considered one of the most good-looking and popular guys in school. But he was, I must add, a tad intimidating to those who were "not on equal status as him". With this, you could probably guess that the guy changed places with him without question. But I was rather puzzled because this obviously meant there was a certain girl he was wanting to dance with and I was thinking that a guy of his stature would never do something so overt to dance with the girl he was interested in. Anyhoo, what I was more interested in was... who was this girl? Was it me? So I proceeded back to counting if we would get to partner each other, and then I realised we wouldn't! I was pretty disappointed... But then! Guess what? He, too, realised that he had somehow counted wrongly the first time round, this was evident because he actually muttered out loud (but not too loud that everyone could hear), "damn it! wrong position!" and then he asked to change places again. This time, the guy gave him a weird look before changing places with him. So.... what does that mean?!?!?!?! Could it really be me he was wanting to dance with? Well, till today, I have no clue. It could have been any other girl that he danced with during the lesson...

image source: http://www.flickr.com/photos/circolovizioso/

Well, anyway, we did meet. And sooooo... we were holding hands waiting for the music to start. Fate had it that this time, the player was having problems starting so we were waiting longer than usual for the music to begin. And during this time, I kept looking everywhere else except at him... pretending it was no big deal that he was my partner and that we were holding hands!!! Gawsh... my heart is racing even as I'm recounting this story. Then, he did something really weird, he looked at me. I mean, he really looked at me, bringing his face closer to mine and looking at me with a half-, I don't know, smirk? It was like, the right corner of his mouth was slanted upwards and his eyes were gleaming with a sort of playfulness and mischief. Ohmilord, I was so nervous and very very self-conscious, but I pretended to be annoyed, "What!" I exclaimed. "Nothing," he said, still with that half-smile/smirk on his face.

And then the music finally begun. And we were dancing... 'Left, step, left, step, kick, Right, step, right, step, kick.....' "Why do you keep kicking?" he asked. I didn't know whether to feel embarrassed or happy or annoyed, but I replied indignantlly, "We are supposed to kick up our leg at the end." "No, we're not!" And so we spent the next few minutes bickering at the end of which I gave an exasperated sigh and said, "Fine!" and then it was time to change partners...

image source: lefthttp://www.flickr.com/photos/brittaniagardenphotoart/; right, http://www.flickr.com/photos/thecrazyguppyfish/

That was the first and last time we ever spoke. After this incident, he still always came to the viewing gallery during my tennis sessions... but shortly after, we moved our sessions to another part of the school, with no viewing gallery this time. In addition, the viewing gallery at the original courts were fairly near to the basketball courts where he would have his basketball training. But there was simply no reason for him to go to that other part of the school. And so guys, the story ends. I'm sorry for the anti-climax, but come on, I think we should be feeling even more sorry for me, no?

So anyway, tell me! Were those the signs? Was I reading it wrong? Was he even remotely interested? See, these questions have been plaguing my mind since, forever. I've never dared to tell anyone because... well, how could I ever dream that one of the most good-looking guys in school would be interested in me? It would be wayyyy too embarrassing to confide this in anyone. Moreover, my friends and I used to talk about him and his group of friends being too arrogant just because they thought there were a good-looking bunch. How could I seem to be on his side, right? Ah welll... Signs or no, nothing happened. So perhaps I should stop thinking about it.

Tuesday 26 April 2011

Crave You


A song by Flight Facilities featuring Giselle. It's called Crave You.

“Why can’t you want me like the other boys do?
They stare at me while I stare at you
Why can’t I keep you safe as my own?
One moment I have you the next you’re gone
Rehearsed steps on an empty stage
That boy’s got my heart in a silver cage
Why can’t you want me like the other boys do?
They stare at me while I crave you

I walked into the room dripping in gold
Yeh dripping in gold
I walked into the room dripping in gold
Dripping in gold
A wave of heads did turn or so I’ve been told
Or so I’ve been told
My heart broke when I saw you kept your gaze controlled
I cannot solve

Why can’t you want me like the other boys do?
They stare at me while I stare at you
Why can’t I keep you safe as my own?
One moment I have you the next you’re gone
Rehearsed steps on an empty stage
That boy’s got my heart in a silver cage
Why can’t you want me like the other boys do?
They stare at me while I crave you

It’s true I crave you
Crave You
It’s true I crave you

Let’s just stop and think, before I lose face
Surely I can’t fall, into a game of chase
Around his little finger, that boy has got me curled
I try to reach out, but he’s in his own world
This boy’s got my head tied, in knots with all his games
I simply want him more because he looks the other way

Why can’t you want me like the other boys do?
They stare at me while I stare at you
Why can’t I keep you safe as my own?
One moment I have you the next you’re gone
Rehearsed steps on an empty stage
That boy’s got my heart in a silver cage
Why can’t you want me like the other boys do?
They stare at me while I crave you

I am craving you”

lyrics source: http://www.villa-rosa-di-sicilia.com/facilities/flight-facilities-crave-you-ft-giselle

First Love

image source: http://coutequecoute.blogspot.com

I suppose I can't really classify him as first love. First of all, I think I was too young at the time to understand what love is - I was only 5. Then again, there are many who are decades into their life who still do not understand the meaning of love. Well okay, I'm not proclaiming myself to be some love guru at this point in my life, but you get what I mean... So, moving on, the second point of the matter is that, well, the feeling wasn't mutual - You'll see what I mean ina bit but all in all, I think it's more apt to say that he was the first boy I liked.

I can't say exactly why I liked him. Perhaps it's too long ago to remember. Hmmm... I guess I could say I liked his confidence and energy.. kinda manly (haha! that actually sounds abit lame, because he, too, was 5. What can I say? He was my classmate in kindergarten.) I remember how the boys in my class used to like to play 'fight' and I must've thought he 'fought' particularly well... Just goes to show, even as a kid, I'd already pictured my perfect guy to be the chivalrous knight in shining armour. I must say though, in retrospect, (the vague memory of) his physical appearance surely does diverge largely from my current idea of a perfect guy (FYI, I really like shy-ish, boyish-looking guys.)

image source: http://www.apc.fr/

Now comes the crux of the story. I say, it must be the result of some form of invisible forces that were set to destroy the rest of my love life that an inexplicable impulsion came upon me to write him a card wherein its contents comprised my love confession for him.
"I love you because I think you are special and can fight very well."
Oh wait... actually some memory updates suddenly came flooding into my mind. There is actually an important prelude to this story that I must recount: I had, in fact, known that he liked another girl. Her name was Michelle. I absolutely can't recall how I got to know that he liked her... but he must've mentioned it or acted it somehow. So I had actually gotten this idea to write a card in Michelle's name, saying that I love him; in other words, he would think that the card came from her. I don't know why I came up with such an idea. Was I being altruistic and just had the pure desire of seeing his face light up with pleasure as he read the card "from Michelle"? Or did I think he would end up loving the messenger? Oh what a twisted mind I already had at the time! Unfortunately, things did not manage to become so complicated... only because I didn't know how to spell 'Michelle'!!! I still have the vivid memory of asking Michelle how to spell her name. She had refused and till now, I recall clearly what I was thinking at the time, "Why doesn't she want to tell me how to spell her name? Does she know what I'm about to do?" Nevertheless, I went home, I wrote the said card, and then spent a great deal of time pondering how I should sign off. In the end, I decided to go with my own name.

image source: http://www.flickr.com/photos/robayre

The next day came, I was very nervous. But I went up to him, bearing the card which had been so nicely enclosed in an envelop with his name on it, albeit spelt very wrongly, "Lookus". (It's supposed to be Lucas, in case you couldn't tell.) And I passed it to him very nonchalently: as if it wasn't enclosed with a love confession, as if it was something I'd just picked up from the floor and realised that it was his and that I was just returning it to him.

image source: http://www.flickr.com/photos/21133841@N03/

I held out the card. He looked at it with disgust and said he didn't want it and walked away.

What happened in between... I have no recollection. It must've been so traumatising that I repressed those memories, haha! The next scene I remember... the card was lying on the floor (don't ask me... I really don't know how it ended up there.) and he picked it up, opened it and read it. My heart raced, whether with joy or anticipation, I'm not sure but it was sure short-lived because next, he threw the card on the floor and reiterated, "I don't want it." I actually remember not feeling sad. Perhaps it was expected, or maybe I'd just learnt from a young age, how to repress unwanted feelings.

image source: http://www.flickr.com/photos/karo_design/

Then again, this incident could very well explain why I'm so godawful at expressing my liking towards any guy I am interested in. In fact, the more I liked a guy, the more I acted like I was ignoring him. You could say I'm playing hard to get... but maybe I'm just plain scared? I'd say Freud, whom I learned about in my Psychology 101 class last year, would very well agree with me.

Monday 25 April 2011

First Post

Well, I haven't blogged in such a long long time. I'm so glad I finally decided to get down to doing this again. It was really great to blog, that is, when I used to blog. It was really therapeutic.

Why'd I stop? Well... I guess I got busy? Or perhaps you could even say that it was because I thought I'd found "the one" to pour my heart out to: our conversations were my blog posts and he was my only reader. Wasn't too bad, really. Except that he wasn't really "the one" and sometimes now, I find that I have no one to talk to. Gawsh... how pathetic does that sound!


Ah well, whether anyone ends up reading this or not, I guess sometimes just writing down your thoughts will make you feel all better. And perhaps after putting it out there, I'd stop being neurotic about these thoughts that keep swimming around my head and that blocks out the acquisition of new information (my excuse for my lack of concentration and incessant self-obsession).

So there ya have it, my reasons for starting this blog..!