It's 1 am and a storm is raging outside. It doesn't sound like normal rain or a normal heavy shower. It sounds like big pails of water are being repeatedly thrown against the windows. Strangely enough, I don't feel inclined to fear at all. Although I expect myself to. It's one of those nights for me.
One of those nights when all my usual amusements fail to entertain and I'm restless and listless, nothing can divert me, and all I want is to appease this dissatisfaction I know I shouldn't feel.
I pause here, because I'm wondering if what I let myself ramble will slowly but surely wander into the realms of "private" rather than "public".
But I don't want to have to hide things like I always do. I think part of the reason I hide things so much is because I try to appear as perfect as I can. As untouchable as... or something. I don't know. It's head-pounding to think of these things.
Maybe I try too hard. And the point is perhaps, not to fuss over whether I've achieved all the minutiae of perfection, but rather, that I try. And that's good enough?
It's getting very clear, isn't it, that I'm a crazed perfectionist, and it's making me miserable. Somebody help me. And when one thing falls apart, I just let everything else fall apart too, because what's the point when you can't have everything right as a whole? I'd rather start over, wouldn't you?
Yes, yes, but this is life and reality. Not a game. And I should salvage whatever I have and be grateful. Because who knows, the end product might turn out beautiful anyway? Maybe. Besides. I have been going on and on about how the most amazing things happen out of the blue. Ah yes. I do have some optimism in me. I am not hopeless after all.
Well. That's me being cryptic and in-my-own-world. I needed that.
To more real and concrete things: today, I was buying a milkshake when I was targeted once again. By beggars. For some reason that is yet to be fully elucidated, people in need of money simply and inexplicably find me as their number one choice for sympathy. Perhaps, yes, as others have expressed, I have a certain guillibility about my countenance. But still! I do not wish to be exploited! I'll help when I want to.
Anyway, this old nyonya came up to me as I was paying for my milkshake and asked for two bucks. Asked for it, mind you! Like it was her right to do so. And no, she didn't ask the group of boys queueing up behind me. Or the other uncountable persons wandering around tampines interchange. She had to ask me. And I was sufficiently amazed to hesitate. Then I became annoyed. And I took my change for my milkshake and dumped the coins (must have amounted to 90 cents or so) into her hands and said as kindly as I could, "That enough?" And gave a grim smile. Then I walked off, and actually exclaimed "Why!" to no one in particular. Because it amazes me the number of times I've been approached by these people in need. And sometimes, they annoy me because they don't ask nicely at all! Like they know I can be bullied or something.
And I tell you, that is what pisses me off most of all. Stop bullying me! All of you people! Beggars or not! Just because I'm small and I can't make myself be aggressive enough, doesn't mean I can't clock you one when I'm sufficiently irate.
Quite honestly, it's a tiny bit of a fantasy of mine to box someone really horrible in the face.
Ah crap. This entry has become truly morbid. I blame my repressed angst.
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