Friday, 22 June 2007

Driven to the Age of Insanity

You would think, no expect, that having lived for nineteen years the time has come for a boy to become a teenager. Let him make mistakes, step on toes, get into trouble, be naughty, come home late, burn his pocket, come crawling back for help, forget his principles for a moment or two, chill with friends till late (or very early) and enjoy saying these words:"I told you so!" when he comes leopard crawling to you.

I still feel imprisoned! As if I'm still nine. I ask you ah, is coming home around 11pm close to 12am normal?

I'm getting tired of being the good boy with innocent image. I feel devoid of doing things that spells SIN. I still haven't clubbed, done enough shopping, play guitar under the block, get fake tattoos on my arms and stuff along the line. Am I a good boy?

Listen to the pangs of frustration from a distraught young boy. I'm chatting with someone from Taipei now and he's twenty and he calls me a BOY!? On one hand it makes me feel young and sweet and innocent. On the other, on a rather microscopic level tugged deep within me in a puny little Pandora's Box, I don't want to be a boy. I'm fine with calling me a cute boy, or handsome kid, or funny chap- no chap cannot, makes me sound like Robert DeNiro or Anthony Hopkins...maybe child? ya...that's better- but not just boy. Because I still have an ego to inflate you know. A boy sounds...sounds...sounds...pathetic. Like calling me a geek. A boy will not get hot and naughty peeps to dance with you. I ain't that bad of a geek ok. I am lah to a small extent, like a quarter of a quarter of a quarter of a quarter of a...(you get the picture lah huh)...of an inch a geek. But I want to grow. Mix around with the big boys. Do something thrilling and exhilarating like being part of a massacre (haha I am afraid of a few drips of blood and I want to create a massacre, please be realistic Ruzy), go to a charade party or visit New York and stay with a local. That will be nice.

I wanna go out and do everything! Everything, something, anything!

Yesterday went Sentosa with Abby, Daryl (YC), Daryl (HL), Zhi Yu and Zili. I didn't bring what was necessary. Needless to say, be prepared and dressed to the occasion. Ya, talk about being an idiot. Suppose to meet at eleven, but they all came at twelve. Eventhough I fervently tried to be late- took a long detour, very slow walk, purposely took my time- and still reach there at eleven sharp. Haiz...what is wrong with my punctuality? After we had enough tanning and waddling in the shallow (only the two Daryls and Zili went into the water), we decided to leave. It was about 3pm.

Abby had to leave, so we said goodbye and thank you (since it was his idea) and sorry (because it wasn't as fun as he had expected it to be). Had a short lunch at BK. Then Daryl (YC) and Zili had to leave. So Daryl (HL), Zhi Yu and myself went shopping at Vivo. I'm glad I can help choosing their wardrobe.

Went home to change and leave for Jevon's party. Thanks Vonvon for inviting. I had a great time unwinding and chilling. Of course the others were his ex-classmates la. But hey, making friends was the name of the game. What a night it was. When I reached home I was dead beat. So going to sleep was easy.

And today; what interesting thing have I done today? Nothing. Nothing. Nothing! I am being driven into the age of insanity man. I am rambling and spouting nonsense. What or who I am kidding? I AM IN THAT AGE ALREADY. I think it's the age in between boyhood and teenagehood. The transition period you can call it so. Pretty cool. Stressful, but cool. I think I can pull through. I mean I am living with a mom who is in that zone. This unexplained and frustrating zone that she is in. I guess she is also in that age. Hahak. Gosh I wish I can have the will to put up to it. Hahak.

Love y'all

1 comment:

Rodrigo said...

Oi, achei teu blog pelo google tá bem interessante gostei desse post. Quando der dá uma passada pelo meu blog, é sobre camisetas personalizadas, mostra passo a passo como criar uma camiseta personalizada bem maneira. Até mais.