dejection

her mind is tiffany-twisted..
she got the mercedes bends..

club pub club bump

my night commenced with a trip to zouk to mark my attendance again, after absenting myself for quite some time. sometimes i wonder why i even bother to maintain that twice-a-month chore to ensure the continuation of my membership. clearly, i've grown out of the place. even mambo doesn't feel the same anymore. sigh.

anyway, i got pretty restive after 3 hoegaardens, and keenly subscribed to png's notion of changing the environment to something more conducive to chilling out. we went down to boat quay, and chanced upon some old friends. i ruled the pool table for a while, and then the manager of the place, apparently indisposed by his gung-ho inclination to often have one too many bottoms up's, unpleasingly remarked that the joint was about to close. we left for supper, and the name 'momo' popped up.

next thing we knew, our attention was divided between parking the car at central mall, and avoiding a nearby skirmish involving not a small number of guys who were too old for the term 'teenagers', yet behaving too childishly to be adults. guys kinda like myself, in fact. the left side-view mirror brushed past an angry boy, and i instinctively did our driver a favour by raising an apologetic palm to him. i saw no point in spoiling our merry-making by aggravating an aggressive alcohol-arrested adolescent. we went in through the back door, and welcomed the sight of a live band playing rather solid rock music. we didn't linger too long though. there was greater promise lying deeper within.

the group split into two divisions - the dancefloor hunters and the pool table hustlers. surprisingly, lust was not on the menu tonight, so i had no intention of hooking up with any girls. i decided to exploit my good run of form on the table. my two dollar-coins reaped in more than an hour of much-appreciated recreation, and made me two new acquaintances along the way, although right now i rather ashamedly confess that the memory of their faces are vague, and their names anonymous. i'm quite sure i'll recognize them the next time we meet - 'quite' being the keyword here.

it was drizzling on the way home, and our friend behind the steering wheel ran us into a lamp post. it sounds like i'm saying this in jest here, but i'm not kidding. she had night blindness, and at the junction, she mistook the pavement for the lane. i'm just glad there were no pedestrians, or she wouldn't have escaped with just a brief reprimand for the dent in the front bumper. in retrospect, i'm weirdly relieved my first road accident happened this way. at least no injuries were inflicted, and i had a funny recollection to store into memory.

i realize this entry has a ubiquitous tone of obscurity that's wearisome to read, but then again, i'm just too jaded and uninspired, so i'll stop here.

the matchstick

once upon an imaginary time, there was a matchstick. nothing wonderful or fascinating could be said about him; he was just like the others in the box, except that he often dreamt of being a medical tool, like a scalpel or a syringe. as a victim of the circumstances that convoluted his very existence, he never had the liberation to observe personal hygiene. thus, he developed a dandruff problem, and his condition was rapidly deteriorating.

one day, it got the better of him, and after countless attempts to fight off the urge of scratching his head, temptation triumphed over sensibility. consequently, it took just one fateful scrape to spark off a combustion which eradicated the whole box of matches.

as divine as interventions come, our little matchstick survived and was rushed to the hospital for treatment, re-emerging as none other than a cotton bud, one of the most germane inventions to the cause of personal hygiene! however, survivor guilt threw him over the edge of sanity, and following little contemplation, he abruptly ended his life by leaping into a bottle of alcohol.

the moral of the story is that sometimes forsaking rationale might be a means to a solution, if only you manage to afford the costs and survive the consequences. if you can't, then drinking won't help you; it'll only kill you.