Tuesday, February 07, 2006
Memoirs of a Slacker
I know. Mine will not be as
tragic as Sayuri's, or as
exciting, or as
glamorous, but surely the last few years of my life can be condensed into a reasonably hefty novel. I should have started with my novel a long time ago, because now, pictures keep disappearing from the pages, and I'd have to stare hard at a page long enough for me to discern what it depicts. Don't know why I'm feeling so
melancholic now, like Orsino, and this gets me irritated becasue I don't even like Orsino. Maybe its just cuz, when I get "there", I won't have any of my white noises surrounding me anymore.
Like the sound of the fan whirring at night next to my bed, the bubbling regularity of the fish tank, the arguing of my brothers that can be audible from upstairs, the sizzling of oil on the wok when my mother cooks lunch, the clang of the gates when they close, the soft yet comforting hum of my loyal and much-loved Pentium III, the gentle plasticky thumping of the window blinds on the glass, the barking from the dogs every time the postman farts by, the smooth whisper-like sound of my father's car returning from work, the light pattering of spray from the water hose, the nonsensical tunes my brother hums while chewing dinner, the deep rumble of their school bus arriving at our gate... But so far, all these are sounds.
I'd also pine for the reassuring sight of my room, so familiar I can navigate around with my eyes closed and a hand tied behind my back. I'd miss knowing when that unreliable glass bookshelf of mine would collapse and bring down all my precious comics. I'd miss the frenzied hungry swimming of my fish if they've been off food. I'd miss coming down the stairs, knowing where to step if I didn't want to be heard. I'd missed teasing my brothers every chance I got, or when I just felt bored or cheeky. I'd miss the slight rasp of my fingers against my keyboard.
If you'd tell me what I'd miss most of all, well, it would sound a bit weird but I'd miss the clicking my mother's dentures make when she fiddles with it. Oh, and the click of the front door opening and closing, not to mention the alarm and the way it says "
Security Off" in this robotic lady's voice after the password's entered.
Oh man, I am
SO not going to get nostalgic. I haven't even
left yet!!!
I'MCRAZY!
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