(It starts first with nonsense)

I paid a visit to an Eskimo which I hadn’t seen for a very long time.

The last time I met him, I was dying in the bathroom after some bad food, and he was fishing on top of some ice, telling me that it was not my time. It was otherworldly; I thought I was in heaven or something, you know? Or some sort of limbo, made from the state of your mind, which differs from everyone. A special place. Unique to each individual.

Today I was dying again, and I didn’t know if it was breakfast or the amalgamation of everything chili which I’ve eaten, in bulk, over the weekend. I was probably in cardiac arrest when it all turned cold, and I was watching things in flurries of snow and ice, bounding around towards someplace I didn’t know.

I was on a sled, sitting behind him, hands around his waist. He turned to me, dark-tinted Oakley goggles reflecting my face. “Not so tight,” he said, and I loosened my grip.

We rode for sometime; all I could see was his parka and snow and glimpses of the sky, and there was no way to tell what was pulling the sled or if we’re going downhill.

The stop was sudden, but smooth. He walked off, dusting snow off his shoulder, while I struggled to stand.

I think it was the edge of the ice. The ocean was just there, flopping silently by our feet. I thought it was familiar.

“Back again, eh?” he said. “Couldn’t help what you eat, can’t you?”

“Nope. Born to live that way.”

“Pfft.” He bit the end of the cigar, spat, and lit it with a Copenhagen lighter.

“So, my time is now?”

“No. But the next time, can’t be sure. Just watch what you eat.”

“Will do.”

“Now fuck off,” he said, and settled down on the snow. And I was back, breathing. I went to run the taps and made for the medicine.

Twice in a lifetime, and I’m not 25 yet.

*****

It’s hot, which is probably why the parents are asleep, and they’ve actually skipped the 9.30 drama for it. If nothing’s new, that’s new.

I’m still waiting for the room to cool down before I attempt to hit the sack, and despite the heat, it was a good night to write, hence the utter nonsense you probably had to read through in the top part of this post (you poor, poor creature).

An old friend popped up online, and we chatted for a bit. We hadn’t IMed for a good half-a-year; I’d occasionally drop by her blog whenever I remembered, and she’s doing great apparently, and will be down to KL on March and asked if I wanted to go retrieve our diploma together (fuck, it’s been 3 years. I wonder if they still keep it).

She’s teaching now, and she seemed rather happy about it. And I read about meeting someone, and the story that came with it. All in all, she’s just as about set on the Path of Life. Makes me wonder about myself; the senseless floundering, floating where I could afford to float, dreaming and ambitioning but seeing it from a distance.

Also makes me reminisce about College. The sense of it, at least. Something like standing on the gateway arc to someplace new and wonderful. Only, well, tonight is something more like seeing that arc after a long, long time.

Makes me want to call a few people, and ask them out for drinks, just to talk about old times, and about the new.

I’m starting to think it’s the heat.

***************

My addictions (stemming from the uber awesomeness of finally getting a set of speakers that play my music wonderfully);







And they’re all from the movie Slumdog Millionaire, in case the vids didn’t tell you clearly enough. It’s Bollywood, yes (the music; the movie, still distinctly British), so it’s either hit or miss for you.

I’m rooting for A.R. Rahman to win the Oscar. I’m just as much addicted.

You need the VISITOR’S PASS.

I start the day with jam.

Apricot; the dregs of it, that clung to the walls of the jar. It didn’t do me any good, mostly because I only had one piece of bread. Cooked some noodles later, with egg and chilli.

And then, for the life of me, traffic jam.

Something to do during jams; start wondering aloud. You probably can’t be heard, amidst the muffled honks and cursing, and if someone spotted you doing it they’d wonder how long they’d take to start to turn into you.

I tried the dad’s detour, that made a sneaky pass through University Malaysia through several different turns and ways, bypassing the Fed Highway altogether. The downside is, you’ll have to pass yourself as a student or bluff your way through the security guards. Normally I’d pass myself off (even my dad did; but maybe they thought he was dropping me off), but today, with things suddenly stricter, they noticed my lack of a UM sticker, which was always (I noticed) emblazoned somewhere top right of any student’s car.

They motioned me to wind down the window. I already had a bluff prepared.

“Just to drop something off to my brother. He’s in the accountancy block.” Just left of the accountancy block is the exit into Jalan University, and 5 minutes from Uni.

“You’ll have to park yourself there, and take the visitor’s pass.”

Shit.

And I had to toss my IC into the guard house, make a round around the campus grounds (rather beautiful by the way, and certain spots overlooking the lake would be one of those poster shots of students under trees with books and laptops), and then return for my IC. Only then I get to drive off and head for class. By then I was already late 45 mins, and had to conclude an answer to a question I barely had time to comprehend (bull-crapped my way through, and winged it).

All in all, I spent one hour 45 to reach a class that lasted (for me) 15 minutes, just to conclude an answer I didn’t give. Oh, and twice the petrol intake of that of a normal day.

****

Lunch was wonderful, and it was Kin Kin’s original spicy pan mee, which was heavenly when I first tasted it; still heavenly now, only that the kick seemed to have lost itself between the 4 spoonfuls of chilli I took.

Dessert, which happened way, way later, was some awesome ice-shaved honey dew thingy with sago topping off every inch.

I was, however, more distracted by the new set of speakers I bought, which emptied the ang pows for this year. I was so distracted by it that I forgot I bought Burnout Paradise for the PC.

Which is in my bag. Ah right.

And I also bought peanuts.

They’re stale now. Shoot.

It's like an oven, only with a little more mercy.

Right now, I’m wishing I can drink that can of coke in the fridge, in my father’s currently unused porcelain glass filled to the brim with ice.

But right now, there’s no ice. And even if I’m tempted to drink it off the can, I wouldn’t, because the can is as warm as though someone had sat on it for a good 2 hours.

That’s because, right now, in the hottest of hottest nights, the new fridge came, and with it being just plugged in 5 minutes ago, I’d bet my toenails that the can of coke is only drinkable by midnight tonight. By then, I think I’ve already melted into goo.

Hot.

Hot.

I was starting to think if my father had a windfall one of these days; new fridge aside (of which, he claimed, had to be bought, as the old fridge was losing its ability to keep itself shut), he went and got a magma lamp (which, I think, is more like an artificial aquarium; it’s a tube that’s a little phalanx-like and it has bubbles and plastic fish in it. Symbolic) and a new all-in-one printer.

The printer was a given, however. We found out the old IP 3000 wouldn’t print anything anymore, and he flew into impulse-buy mode and we picked this one off an offer in All-IT Kajang.

The printer comes with a scanner, which is a Yay.

He almost bought me a speaker set for the PC. I refused. He got rather agitated about it (I had refused him flat-out in front of the sales-clerks and he couldn’t have been happy with it), but I didn’t tell him I was aiming for something a little higher than what we saw. Nope. It’s something I’ll be getting myself, for myself.

What with the new things around the house, his mood is considerably cheery now. Great welcome, especially in such hot nights, where temper from any side might just escalate into a full-fledge bush fire.

Man it’s hot.

Now, to help mom with acquainting the new fridge with the magnets.

******

EDIT: Some bargain bin luck these days;

1) A Study in Scarlet by A. Conan Doyle (Sherlock Holmes’ First Case, for the uninformed) for 12 buckaroos.
2) Star Wars: The Revenge of the Sith OST by John Williams for RM9.90, about 40 bucks off.

3) A lonely DVD copy of Misery, directed by Rob Reiner, for 7.90, found in some unknown video store at Giant Kajang.

Man, being a cheapskate pays off sometimes.

After the Big Red Celebration (less Red this year, probably due to the recession and a funeral last year), and after unchecked and largely semi-conscious acts of massive bingeing, it was as though the world withered away.

And in the darkness, I started seeing goats. Grey ones, brown ones, Disney ones, which all started head butting an oversized cardboard cut-out of the Marlboro Man. And I thought, the world’s gone to the goats. There’s nothing we can do. Like the full cycle of life, it always end and start with goats. The song of the world; the first tune, resonated and echoed among hills and canyons, was MEEEeekkkkkkk.

MEEEeekkk became the wind, that the wind made the waves, and the waves cut the rocks and turn them to sand and from the salt came life, MEEeeekkkk was the first word it says.

And then it’s the Planet of the Goats.

Such easily were we forgotten.

******

I had to write that down.

Admittedly, the sole reason that I’ve been putting off blogging for so long was because I forgot how to write nonsense. Nonsense is the best thing to write. Nonsense is shaped with the whimsicality of clouds and the carelessness of freedom, and if you don’t know the therapeutic properties of utter and inconsequential nonsense, you’re either too uptight or you’re too bound to the seriousness the world demands.

Then again, too much nonsense means you’re crazy.

So, it’s after the Big Red Celebration, and the Big Damn Bingeing, and it was over and done with like an assignment you’re glad to rid off. Maybe it was because the brother isn’t here, but for all that’s worth, this year’s CNY was quiet. I welcome the newfound serenity. I detest the extra workload. Either way, I still rather dislike CNY.

Ang Pows are not incentives.

For now, classes were back on, with the holiday mood veiling over it, so it’s rather hard to see what’s going on and start focusing. The lecturers were speaking poetry behind their notes. It’s easy to fall beyond it. Sleep. Let the words wash over you.

Chap goh meh on Monday next, and hopefully the veil is taken down.