Random Ranting 2September 25, 2008 at 9:24 pm | Posted in Rant | Leave a comment
Tags: ATC, BAC, Teresa Kok
I fear I have mellowed. Here’s one example: some time back, when someone said that this person was fat/stupid, I mechanically responded, “Nolah, don’t be so mean- he’s just dense”. I haven’t said that for ages. There. Do you think I’m becoming a most cherubic angel, then? Methinks not. Then again, maybe I’m just getting lazy. Lazier then ever, I mean. There are limits to laziness, though. And I am yet to spot them.
I am in a rut. I realise that I’m not using the word correctly, but like I care. In a way, it is right, though. I am bored. Bored with everything. In college once more, routine has returned… but never mind that. Back to my wrong usage of rut. I don’t like what I write. I don’t like it at all. It may be good, and perhaps give those with weaker hearts a rapturous bus ticket (which doesn’t really make sense- how can a ticket be rapturous?) to the afterlife, but that doesn’t matter. It’s like my Eng. Lit. exam. I didn’t really like what I wrote but I aced it anyway. It’s a worrying phenomenon indeed.
For the benefit of those fellas who have left to study overseas and who want to come back and change the country (Kil- I don’t think you even know of this site, but beh; Matt, you listening?), a report has been filed against Teresa Kok by some organisation (Minnows. I forgot who), for allegedly defaming the police and insulting an egg. Uhuh. An egg. I didn’t read the article, but I heard this from a law lecturer- he’s not exactly in a position to BS anyone, so this intel should be true- apparently eggs are ‘sustenance for the poor’. By saying that the food given to her during her detention was ‘dog food’, she has insulted the poor. Right. Moving on…
Walking to ATC is worse than walking to BAC. All I had to face on the way from Central to the smell of smoke and Indian incense. Now, with a longer distance between the bus station and college, I get:
i-Smoke. You can’t escape.
ii-Some weird smell emanating from the side of the McDonald’s near the station.
iii-Garbage next to the police station.
iv-Traditional Chinese medicine.
v-Leather. It’s terrible.
vi-And when it rains, everything smells like shit. Seriously.
That’s that. I have also been reacquainted with the torture device known as public buses. Full, all the way home. Imagine being crushed by a mass of suspect human flesh, being forced to smell the scents of a fraction of the madness that constitutes a city. It’s cloying. Breathe deep and die. Watch your suddenly-and-unfairly-rendered-insignificant-by-a-stupid-death life flash past your watery eyes as you inhale the pungent aroma of sweaty armpit inches from your face. Not that that happened to me, of course… but my reunion with buses has restored my memory of the one cure to this threat to societal sanity: just smell yourself as you hold on for dear life. I don’t mean smell in some intensely sexual way, just… smell. Don’t act so shocked. Fight scent with scent. I know I smelled wonderful:)
P.S. Oh, and even if you yourself happen to be the reason why the bus driver fainted and the bus careened into some oxidation pond, I do believe ego will compensate. So please enjoy your bus ride. Just… without me, alright?