Bookshop

Today I saw:

-Twilight in the classics section.

-Volumes on psychology, depression and how-to-make-the-person-you-like-fall-for-you in the philosophy section.

-An entire section dedicated to vampires.

-That the most popular section of a BOOKshop is the stationery/games/et cetera department.

-A book on Steve Jobs amongst a shelf of books labelled 'religion'.

-A Malay book in the 'Learning English' corner.

I also discovered that (based on a survey I conducted involving 4 respondents) ebooks have to cost half as much as their paper counterparts to be feasible, and that a coupon redeemable for 2 ebooks is valued less than 1 paper book as a gift.

And I shall end by saying that 1984 was a complete and utter mindfuck. In a peculiarly sadistic but satisfying way. I'm weird.

Placidity

‘Let me out...’

But I don’t want to be let out, because there is something peculiarly calming about the view from a window while the world around you speeds past. As the trees and tracks hurry by in a blur of green and brown, as buildings zip away and the horizon comes into view, you feel as if the world revolves around your little seat. Never mind that it is only one of 40 seats in a coach, or a coach amongst 6 others, or a train in a system of hundreds; that is irrelevant. It is easy to fall into a pensive state when your perspective merges with that of a reflective movie, in the archetypal scene where the protagonist contemplates life amidst the backdrop of the world zooming past, complete with serene musical accompaniment (thank you, iTouch).

I feel placid and content (more so than usual anyway). Ahh, the little things in life.

Not Heaven

People shouting at the top of their lungs. A man nonchalantly spits on the ground he stands on. Another puffs away on his cigarette, seemingly oblivious to the disparaging glares tracking him. Listless faces everywhere. A lady throwing scraps into a putrid drain; it lodges between the nooks of an impressively solid dam of aluminum, plastic and styrofoam. The sound of chairs lazily grinding against the cheap limestone floor. A waiter who doesn't say thank you.

As I sip on my iced coffee, I wondered if I'm the only person in this run-down coffee shop who finds the environment repulsive. Probably. Yet there's something about this chaos that's strangely alluring; an angry, red, boiling vibrance that I've grown fond of after 20 years of immersion in this society. Do I hate it? Of course I do. But would I trade it for the calm and controlled atmosphere of an upscale coffee house? Probably not.

An obnoxiously large lady pushes between my chair and the adjacent patron's, her butt cheeks grazing the back of my head. I waited for an apology... and received none. Not that I expected one to begin with. With a smile, I down the rest of my drink. This is home. It sure as hell ain't heaven but fuck, do I love it.

Hate/Like

I hate it when students make it a daily ritual to mourn about their weekly tests.

I hate it when people complain about the sun when it's shining while consequently bitching about the rain when it's pouring.

I hate how skinny girls complain about being too fat, or how fat girls bitch about their supposedly 'anorexic' counterparts.

I hate it when people moan about how much they miss home... when they get to sleep on the bed they grew up in at weekly intervals.

I hate how some students make a fuss about their study load... when they have a topic test.

I hate how those under scholarships say they'd rather trade their free ride for personal freedom, and how non-scholars want the opposite.

I hate how people make a big deal of not getting their choice of ice cream at lunch.

I hate how so many people complain too damn much about things that are too damn trivial.

-

I like how some people keep silent when a parent passes on.

I like how someone doesn't say a word about home... when he's been away for 4 years.

I like how he refrains from being angry, let alone resort to profanities, when his car gets totalled just days before his exam.

I like how some people don't complain at all when they've been studying for 3 months for a big test.

I like how she says a simple prayer when her favourite dog dies, instead of breaking into a hissy fit.

I like how he had to travel back and forth between continents (with his own money) thrice in two weeks for a scholarship that he eventually failed to get, and how he managed to laugh it off after everything.

I like how he tells me not to be sad, when he was the one who lost his best friend mere hours ago.

I like how perseverance shines through silence.