Thursday, March 22, 2007


"I like your new glasses. They look funky"

Yes. I also wear Zara shirts, Marks and Spencer trousers and Hush Puppies now. I weigh the same, but I've lost inches off my waist and gained inches around my shoulders. I eat out more often, but have mostly stopped snacking. I have more social appointments than I can conceivably handle, but less time to be with myself. Strangely, that matters less to me than it did.

I've almost completely stopped WoWing. I've almost completely stopped watching TV. I spend my time quietly trying to understand myself. I spend my time trying to quietly understand my surroundings. I think more in terms of physical violence, less in terms of concilliation. I read more widely now. I wonder less about how the world works, and more about how I affect the world.

I make more money now. Paradoxically, I am less ambitious. I want to do my job and have the time that is due to me. No job will ever own me again.

The scars have become itchy keloids now. Movie scenes of a BART in motion remind me of its iron tangy scent. From pictures of San Francisco, Berkeley and Oakland I can feel the chill coastal wind, the light humidity of the ever-present fog, the golden champagne of the Californian sun. I'm not Singaporean, any more than I am Californian. Going to one place makes me miss the other. These itches, they remind me that I am in transition. Perhaps that is my fate then, to always be in transition.

It doesn't matter that much to me now - stability, and yet, I am more stable than I've ever been in my life. Perhaps that is life - to always be in transition, always moving from the past to the future, through the junction box we call the present. That is the purpose I chose to impose on my life for now. It is enough for me.

I sleep on a sofa bed. I understand it is not permanent. I will be moving soon. There, then, will be another change. I still cannot spend a night in my old bedroom. I go up on occassion, when I have something to fetch. It's a corpse of the former me. The stuffed toys have understanding looks. I still hear their soft voices . They say to me...

"I like your new glasses. They look funky"