9:36 p.m. - 2003-01-16
k for kafka
A short story
This is a lousy short story, no plot, no characters, just a lousy rambling voice; which actually stutters nervously in a very singlish accent...
"i'm having writer's block.
one big chunk of it. everything seems bland and self indulgent or over-revealing or ...writer's block.
cleavage.
thats a good word to use.
pick at other's english.
thats quite fun too.
i have an urge to swear suddenly.
SUDDENLY!!!
i like reading short stories.
you can't tell a person a phrase like "humans are indecisive wimps and egoistic puffers." and expect him to take it as it is. you got to create a story around it. Add some aquarium rocks and plants. The short story form illuminates reality in the diverse meanings we can get from it.
the single line from one of kafka's stories...
something like some logs lying in the snow...
i saw her the other day while travelling to school...
i was sitting on the stone seats, waiting for the school bus when she walked past.
i remember her. i saw her on the mrt train last semester when i was going to school. we had stared at each other on the train while a few goons hung onto the railings and made loud noises.
a bus came. she boarded it. me too.
i climbed to the upper deck of the bus and took a look around. Most of the seats were occupied, but i saw a vacant seat and i walked towards it. It happened to be a seat behind her. And so i sat down, trying to hide my joy, putting a stupid expression on my face, like "hey! no other seats already ok?! I have to sit here!"
"behind this beautiful girl."
i stared at her, examining her, tracing her, probing her, with my eyes.
i stared at her silky hair, her beautiful smooth shoulders, her spaghetti straps...her skin thats wonderfully lightly tanned and yet still fair.
i wondered about those straps.
There were 3 pairs of them. i figured that 1 was for the spaghetti, 1 for her bra, and the other one? well, i am not sure.
i looked out the window. In about the same direction as she was looking at. i secretly hoped that i would see the passing blocks of flats as she did and we would be thinking of the same things... and perhaps, of each other.
i want to enter into her mind and see things from her perspective.
i really felt a sense of joy and direction in life then.
i stared at her ears.
They were small and beautiful. With diamond-like stones on them and the sharp golden metal piece poking through to the back of her ears. i stared at the sharp metal point and my thoughts turned to sadistic and sexual.
she is quite small. i mean she's short and petite. i remembered my friend who once said that small girls are better, cos you can flip them over and do it doggy style and then flip them over and do it missionary. he demonstrated with vivid hand actions.
i shifted my weight on the seat and tried to catch a glimpse of her eyes. i never did. i saw her spectacles though, and her watch. Her spectacles are thin metal framed and her lenses were not very thick. Her watch is of feminine metal design and its slim strap wraps itself neatly around her gentle wrist.
i wondered how it feels.
if we were together. sitting on the bus.
my hand around her waist. she resting her head on my shoulders, pressing her body against me. and the warmth between us.
i still dunno her name.
sometimes when i meet a girl as much as i like, i would cease my masterbation activities. i want to be as pure as i can for her. but sometimes, or most of the times, sadness takes over and i just regress into my vicious cycle of guilt and masterbation and immorality.
sigh
i hope she doesn't have a stupid boyfriend. From engineering or business or in the army. And certainly not someone similar to me. really. That would be like heartache for inaction.
i hope she likes punkrock too. but if she likes andy lau and aaron kwok, thats ok i can accept that.
even F4.
but i can't grow my hair long for her.
Singapore is too fucking hot.
i hope she doesn't mind that i swear
or have a sick father
or have bad skin
or have suicidal thoughts in the past
or have visited __
or writes an online diary
or play irc
or tried to seduce some sec school kid from #teens
or is incompetent and has lousy grades in school and has no great ambitions or any self-confidence.
i hoped she can forgive me. like a family member.
i hoped i can be strong. to protect her. make her proud of me. console her when she's sad. and generally crack funny jokes to cheer her up not infect her with my pessimism in life.
or maybe we'll have sex.
casually of cos.
since we're not in the child-rearing mood.
i wonder
whether we'll quarrel about this in the future.
about having kids and stuff.
i am afraid of passing my ugliness to my kids. Thats how it got passed to me in the first place.
well, enough about me already.
the bus reached my stop and i had to get off. well, i could have skipped my lesson and talked to her if i wanted, but i can't.
so i got down
... and the bus rumbled on.
---------------------------------the end
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---------------------------- "You are told a lot about your education, but some beautiful, sacred memory, preserved since childhood, is perhaps the best education of all. If a man carries many such memories into life with him, he is saved for the rest of his days. And even if only one good memory is left in our hearts, it may also be the instrument of our salvation one day." -fyodor dostoevsky
