barren.
written: 10:10 p.m. on Sunday, Apr. 03, 2005
Work? Well, same old, same old. Sundays mean that the damn air-con isn't working right, and so I suffered a migraine throughout the whole 9.5 hours today. Fun times. Time also seems to pass quicker when you're listening to music; but time seems to drag, too, when people around you are grating on your nerves.
I don't know what this person was trying to prove, and even if it was completely innocuous, it doesn't mean that I haven't the right to be slightly annoyed all the same. There was this senior temp staff sitting with us today, this male person; I've tried talking to him before but it didn't really work out. Call me paranoid or overly sensitive, but whatever it is, I can't exactly banter with a person whom I can't relate to and who seems to be judging every comment, every move I make.
Today was no better. First it was that random comment about 'eating potatoes while growing up'; being ang moh-fied, in other words, which basically sums me up if you want my honest opinion. It wasn't exactly directed at me, but it still hit a little bit too close to home for comfort all the same. I don't get people who have issues with people who are more English than Chinese; is it jealousy? Insecurity? Condescension?
And then it was another random comment about Zhou Jielun, which came after I'd pretty much swooned over him like a silly, obsessed fangirl. The senior temp staff in question said something about not being able to understand what Jielun sings in his songs, owing to his famed mumbling and all. I don't really care what you have to say about Jielun, and I wouldn't give a shit under normal circumstances, but it just so happened that it came after I was already slightly ticked off. I didn't hear it 'cause I was listening to my Discman but Chicken and the Sec 5 kid (whose name is Ken, by the way) started laughing hysterically and repeated his words to me.
I think they expected some sort of outcry from me, but hell, I just wasn't in the mood. I was like, "Okay." What I really wanted to say was: "Right, heard that a million times. How boring. Can't you even come up with more original criticisms?"
I don't think this makes sense but trust me, it's not as petty as it may sound. I just...I don't know, you know? There are some people whom you just can't click with or even be remotely polite and civil towards, and that senior temp dude is one of those people. And I can't help, really, but feel defensive about the whole 'ang moh pai' thing. In the first place, I'm perfectly aware of it, and hence I think I deserve some sort of slack for trying to fucking rectify it; in the second place, I doubt that his Chinese is half as good as my English, so fuck off and die please, thank you very much.
I mean, seriously, Singaporean Chinese...isn't proper Chinese. I can't believe that JC students go around saying "wan gang qin" (as in �� piano) and other assorted instruments when it's obviously wrong and horrendously disgusting. Honestly, never in my 18/19 years living in this world have I heard anything quite like that. I'm just...completely bowled over. Congratulations; here's your damn certificate.
God, my head still hurts. I need to take a shower. I can't use pinyin to input Chinese characters and it's a severe pain in the ass.
Okay, maybe I'm being too bitchy towards that senior temp dude but... Right, who remotely gives a shit? I sure don't.
I have nothing to say. I think I've completely jiang lang cai jin-ed (I'd input the Chinese characters but I can't).
I learn my Chinese from song lyrics and the things that Jielun says. Jiang lang cai jin; proverb/idiom. To lose inspiration, to become formulaic and predictable. Me in a nutshell. And the funny thing? I came across it in a song sang by some PRC Chinese female singer about Jielun, called "Hello, Jay Chou".
I hate this feeling. I can't even properly articulate it without sounding whiny.
Let's give it a shot anyway.
I'm trying to leave as quickly as possible; waiting for the bus is the biggest bitch to ever walk the face of the earth and I'd like to minimise any waiting time I may have to incur due to the disgusting inefficiency of the transport system. The day's work is in the form of a mildly heavy weight in my arms - that is, heavy for what is essentially a stack of carbon papers. They're falling apart, slipping from my arms, and I dump them on the table, take a Post-It, write my name on it and stick it onto the first page of the pile. I pass the pen to my friend, and when he's done, he says to the guy who is now responsible for our day's work, "Is this pen yours?"
"Yeah," he replies, and takes the pen.
Nope; I took it from another table. I tell him that, and he gives me an amused look; smiles as he answers, "It's all the same."
"No it's not." I take the pen from his table and put it back to where I took it from. Flashing him a smile, I turn and bounce away. Time to hurry in case I miss the bus.
You're cute. Too bad about the dress sense.
And I still hate this feeling because I have just proven that I can't write, not anymore, and maybe I never could to begin with.
Fuck it. I need sleep.
before sunrise // before sunset
Previously:
- - Tuesday, Aug. 29, 2017
I'm moving. - Sunday, Jul. 11, 2010
In all honesty - Tuesday, Jul. 06, 2010
What I want for my birthday... - Sunday, Jul. 04, 2010
On Roger's behalf. - Friday, Jul. 02, 2010