Monday, March 8, 2010

beanbags and parquet floors

So.
Today was good and fun, albeit leaning towards the stuff-your-face-waddle-home bit.

I don't know why I did, but I brought her to my favourite place in Singapore. Where I've sat for lots of rounds of the same drink, written, drawn, composed, people-watched.

It's been a comfortable few days, very in fact. I might have spent the most part trying to run or move, or get over this whole bad news thing (which I'm still not quite over yet), but aside from that, we hang out and walk and chat and it's easier to breathe because there's someone to talk to.


On a completely different note, I've decided that I can't be bothered to give a flying fuck about things that really don't involve me. I mean, I did try to tell you, but you weren't listening. Not in the least. So, I can't be stuffed anymore.
People, they go, "Why are you lazy? What do you mean by lazy?" Well here's the truth. I'm lazy to find/make time to deliberately go out with someone and be (or make them feel) all comfy and relaxed. This is why I have time for my friends and family, because I dont need to help them feel like they can talk to me. Also, I figure, if we hit it off and start hanging out, then clearly I'm finding time without trying.
So that won't tire me out, it makes sense, no?
Also, I'm really lazy to suss out the whole, emotional thing. I'm tired lar, I give up. I am old and I will have 97 cats. I've grown to accept that.
More than any of that, really, I am lazy to feel too much, lazy to cry and tell myself to get a grip. I'm lazy to pick myself up if I get into a rut, thanks to the whoever of the month. I'm lazy to think about what I should do and where it will all go.
Lazy to deal with mind games, let alone mind fucking.

So.
That's me in a nutshell. The lazy part that is.
And that's how I've been for the last three years actually. hahahaha.
Of course I've cried and felt and hated myself for it.
But well, generally lazy.

meh.

So. I have a few days left, better get shit together and tidy up.
Breathe.
I said, "screw being ill" last week and started working out again mid-week. I've missed it.
I miss Muay Thai.
I miss everything that used to be my very normal, everyday life.

I'd pass on all of this right now,
just to see myself blocking out dates and cancelling appointments,
hurrying up the slope into that all too familiar gate. Going up to see the pony, getting changed,
feeling like I've just gotten home.
Smelling normal, working out after my last round of pad work, rolling my eyes at the mirror because I DO look that grotesque.
"EW. aren't you gonna bathe honey?" Kiki will say, and I'll think,
"naw, I'm going to go behave like a Singaporean today." And then i stick myself on the crowded bus, headphones in,
able to breathe.

I miss life as it were, just,
a month ago, you know?

And I hate that I can't hold on to it.

I'm heading out for a run now, nothing else would make sense.

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