Archive for July, 2008

This is not a Poem…

… It is past midnight. It is warm. It is quite. Everyone is asleep. I am Awake. I am Alone…

It is like this everyday for the past month.

I am in my bedroom. The room is cold as ice. Not the temperature. I open the windows to let the night breeze give me warmth. I get cold. I get colder. Am I ill? But I am not. So I walk out.

I am in the living room. The TV is switched on, and some celebrity scandal is showing on E! I don’t hear. I can’t hear. I turn up the volume. I hear less. Am I deaf? But I am not. So I walk out.

I am in the kitchen. I am hungry. I open the fridge and make a sandwich. It looks tasty. I take a bite. I can’t taste it. Do I have taste buds? But I do. So I walk out.

I am on the phone. It is ringing at the other end but for some reason nobody is picking up. Seven days I wait a call back. Has the call been through? But it has. So I won’t call again.

I am on the roof of my eighteenth floor apartment. It is past midnight. It is warm. It is quite. Everyone is asleep. I am Awake. I am Alone. I don’t hear. I don’t see. I don’t taste. 

I jump. The warm breeze of the night hits my face. I hear the sweet melody of the night. I see the beauty of the night like never before.

But the one question remains: When I fall, will I feel again?

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It’s a Beautiful World?

So I was reading this Chinese girl’s blog earlier today and it reminded me of how awesome this world we live in today is.

She posted about how a guy tried to pick her up on the subway. I just love those kind of stories. I’m a girl, a pretty one at that; so I know what it feels like to be hit on by dumb guys all day long.

I started to read the post, if for nothing, I was sure I’d get a laugh or two out of it.

So this girl was sitting all alone in the subway, and a random guy came and sat right next to her.

Random Guy (RG): Hello

Blog Girl (BG) : (Silent because she thought he was on the phone)

RG: Hi…

BG: (Turns to see he was indeed talking to her) Hi

RG: Are you a student?

BG: Yep.

RG: Which school do you go to?

BG: Bla Bla Bla.

RG: What’s your name?

BG: Bla.

RG: Wanna be friends?

BG: Nope.

RG: Do you have a boyfriend?

BG: Nope.

RG: Then why not?

BG: I don’t know you…

This went on for another 15 minutes or so, until the train came and saved her ass from the guy’s conversational torture.

This guy can’t read between the lines. Hell he can’t even read on the bloody lines. Clearly, he’s an idiot when it comes to conversations with other women.

But like an M.Night Shayhmalan movie, this story has a twist ending.

She ended by expressing how terrified she was while she was talking to him. How her heart was racing and how she wanted to call her parents.

Hmmm…

So I was like, OK, I get it. I’m a girl. I’m alone on the subway. I see some random guy. He sits next me. I’ll be a little scared too.

But then he talks to me. He asks me a league of extraordinary boring questions; This guy is either bored out of his mind, a fucking loser or both.

So then why would I be scared? Why would I be terrified and trembling? Why would I wanna call my parents? Why would I cry?

She lost me there.

Wait.

Did I mention he was black?

Ooooowh! Now everything makes so much more sense. Being alone with a black guy can be a really terrifying experience. I watch TV too, I should know.

Her story reminded me of an incident I had a while ago with this girl at my hostel building. 

I went on the elevator one fine morning and this pretty looking white girl was already in. She was by the door, so she took a step back when I came on. I tried to make myself a little more comfortable, afterall we had over 30 Floors to go.

She took another step back.

“How sweet”, I though. “I can’t believe some people actually think that chivalry is dead”

I turned to tell her that I’m just 5″4 and slim; I don’t need all the space, thank you nonetheless. But she took another step back.

Maybe my breath stinks. I smelt it: Sweet minty Listerine. 

Or maybe my deodrant? Nope. Lacoste Touch of Pink Rocks!

Cologne? 

“Are you seious?”, I was talking to myself in my head, “Chanel No.5 kicks all kinds of ass”.

What then?

Ooooowh! I’m black!

But just to be sure, I took one more step towards her.

She was at the wall. Nowhere to run.

AARRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGG!

She was shouting like a bitch.

Well in her defence, she was bitch!

“This is going to be fun”, I said to myself.

I took her arm and rubbed my palms all over it while chanting gibberish.

“Sorry sweetie”, I said in my most sympathetic voice, “now you’re going to wake up a black girl tomorrow”

She fainted.

OK I just made up that last part.

I’m no scientist but she turned up the volume of her wailing by 79.65%. It was unbearable in there.

Luckily for me, we reached the ground floor. The lift opened.

She was still shouting.

A handsome looking arab guy was there. He could’ve asked what was wrong with her and why she was shouting, but his family was subjected to humiliation at the airport the week before, so he walked right past her into the elevator barely acknowledging any presence of life.

Being late for class, I hailed a cab. The indian cab driver refused to pick me up, probably because the previous week, a black girl threw a drink in his face at the club.

Five minutes later, my indian roommate took the cab.

I walked to school.

Reaching the class 15 minutes late, my local lecturer pointed me out while telling everyone how lazy international students are. 

Don’t you just love the world we live in today? I know I do 🙂