贱男人

Decided against writing an erotic post. That would just be pushing me further into the horrific reign of sex, music and booze.

Yeah…love lasts a lifetime. Making it only lasts for a few impassioned moments. Writing about the latter would make me seem so revoltingly uncommitted to the former cause.

Yeah…music soothes the soul. The melodies might play in the mind more often than I wish it would. But every song ends or fades away. Singing a song only releases the emotions I have for it at that particular moment. Nothing more.

Yeah…booze drowns the sorrows. The euphoric state of drunkenness takes away all thoughts of the consequences of actions. Yet how long can it last? Perhaps until the hangover comes the following day. And I can swear on Martell’s name that there is no sorrow worse that the headaches which accompanies excessive drinking. Besides, how much can a person drink? 6standard drinks is the usual Asian limit. I could possibly do double or more and get really wasted. But why waste my health on it?

Yeah…so no more talk of the above three vices for now. Makes me feel like engaging in them. But that would only be escaping. I think I was sad and disappointed. For like one minute. And I cried for two minutes. Then I became happy again by the third. But sadness should not be correlated to the transient comfort zones such vices provide. To be able to cry shows recovering grief. And only happiness is an eternal bliss.

This is not a post war tribunal. It does not require an investigation or a finger-pointing episode in search for a truth which was never there. Nothing was wrong. Feelings are no fault of anybody’s. Nobody has a right to claim ownership of something so magical. Come on, it was only a week. And she admitted she sort of liked you but think it is unfair because she just got out of a relationship. (Yes, I know it is an excuse but I choose to believe her okay?)So how much deeper can you probe into it? Why should you even bother? If it will not make a difference, don’t start something you cannot stop.

Fuck, I’m crying again. Except this time it could be tears of joy. I feel like I’ve matured 7 years in the space of a week. Great…now my emotional age is 7. 2 more times and I’ll be all ready for a real relationship.

Beware the long haired fellow. He preys on schoolgirls. Especially those in uniform, ankle socks, pony tails and smell like they’ve just come out from a bathtub of moon flowers and lavenders.

Then, she is calling me now.

(Time elapses to this morning when I’m in school after talking to her on the phone till 2am last night.)

It is the bloody same kind of conversation, filled with harmless flirting, blabberish about her exams, psycho-analysis tests, etc. Just as it was before her confession. Tell me, how are we going to become detached to a level of ‘just friends’ if this is to ensue? Do I have to actively repress my feelings for her? And I can’t really reject her calls on the grounds that I’m busy because I’m not and I do enjoy talking to her.

One week is really too fast, too furious. But Time is only a convenient unit of measurement. 同是天涯沦落人，相逢何必曾相识？If the feelings are correct, then it’ll be a shame to hide it away. Besides, how can feelings be wrong?

我是一个贱男人。