Monday, October 09, 2006
The Only Things You Learn Are The Things You Tame
I sent a copy of “You Killed Me Today” to Alex after I had loaded it onto Blogspot. After all the tears writing that piece, I was obviously fishing for some comments that only a hairy boy could give. He said that I consisted mostly of memories and that particular entry was fuelled by childhood memories of my white and black spotted dog I named Peter. Memories are very important to me. They form a huge part of me and I constantly play them like a long video clip in my head. Memories of good times, memories of bad, memories from my childhood and fresh memories of yesterday. I read somewhere that many writers are observers. It struck a chord in my heart for I love observing especially human interaction and words. I love observing everything that passes me by and I can play the scenes in my head a thousand times a day, then writing about the experience. Moon remarked that I was very different from what she imagined me to be. I think she was pretty disappointed when she realised that I am a very still person in real life. I do not possess a loud personality or qualities that are larger than life. Or perhaps it was the choice of place we were at – we were sitting quietly in the corner chatting and dreaming instead of drowning ourselves with Vodka Ribena, although I remember clearly that I had two teacups of Vodka Ribena that night. ~ Come Away With Me, Norah Jones Come away with me in the night Come away with me And I will write you a song Come away with me on a bus Come away where they can't tempt us With their lies Sometimes I think the strangest things happen for a reason. Often we never understand why they happened but the fact remains, they happened. Take Alex, for example. E and I were on a girls’ weekend together in Perhentian when we met three boys. Everyone were smittened by E’s confidence and charm. I walked three steps behind her, always quiet and always observing. It comes as no great surprise if I told you that all the boys paid 110% of their attention on her and surrounded her through the days we were on the island. I remember the first time Alex came away with me. He walked ahead of the group and alongside with me. We walked barefoot from Coral Bay towards Long Island. It was total darkness and we were guided only by Alex’s torchlight. We spoke as we briskly walked on the cold muddy path towards Long Island, with E and the two boys behind us. “So how old are you?” he asked. “26.” We were climbing a slight slope when he asked me that question. “How old are you?” “You guess,” “28,” I swiftly replied. He looked a little older than I and I was 26 then. “I am 22.” I nearly slipped and fell when he said that. I remember laughing, thinking that he was teasing me. He was not. He was and still is 4 years younger than me. Somehow as we walked, we lost E and the two other boys. Alex and I were alone, looking at the moonlight dancing with the waves. “Lie on me,” Alex said. “Don’t dirty your clothes.” I hesitated for a second. I was 26, not very streetwise but I was certainly not dumb. He laid down and reached out for my hands. I took them and laid very still on top of Alex where he promised me that he will follow me wherever I go. On a cloudy day In fields where the yellow grass grows knee-high So won't you try to come “He’s looking at you,” E giggled. One day a long time ago, E and I were on our usual Saturday breakfast when we chanced upon a very good looking traveller. He sat across us with an architecture book in his hands and he appeared to be looking in our direction each time we were looking at his. E devised a grand plan to find out who he was looking at. She sent me to fetch us some iced water and observed who he was looking at. So off I went, walking in the best possible way I could muster. “He’s looking at you,” she said, nudging me. I smiled at the most beautiful dark haired stranger. As a result, E and I sat there for five hours, waiting for him to come approach us, like how boys normally do. That, he did not. Finally giving up, we left and went into my car, where E suddenly felt a rush of excitement and said, “Remember we said we’ll do whatever we fear most? Well give me your email address.” She took the small slip of receipt and walked up towards the man who sat 5 hours staring back at us earlier. He came away with me three days later. He wrote me a short email and we scheduled a meeting in my favourite restaurant. I remember that it was raining and I was wearing a black short dress with tiny yellow flowers. I felt so tense about the meeting that I walked past him without noticing that he was standing at the bar. He caught my hands. PY joined us some time later (as a chaperon but she did not say or do much). That night Swedish Love and I sat across each other, staring into each other’s eyes. We were so excited that we hardly said a word. On a mountaintop Come away with me And I'll never stop loving you And I want to wake up with the rain Falling on a tin roof While I'm safe there in your arms So all I ask is for you To come away with me in the night Come away with me E and I spent a huge portion of our mid 20s clubbing. The week began on a Friday afternoon when we would be out shopping for clothes and shoes we would wear for the weekend. We had fancy dinners and proceeded to hop from one bar to the next. Somewhere along the line, we started visiting a dance club where we met two DJs. I remember the first time I spoke to AB. He came over to “investigate” if E would like to spend some time with his partner (the other DJ). I was so put off by AB’s remarks that I sent him away. He smiled, probably feeling tickled that I had such strong reactions towards his friend’s suggestion to E for a fuck and go session. The following weeks he came over and we chatted a little more. One weekend I mentioned that I would not be there the following week because E would be away. AB suggested that I go nonetheless. I laughed, stating that it was absolutely stupid for me to be alone in a club. He promised to keep me company. So the following weekend I found myself with him. True to his word, AB was with me the whole entire night. When he was not playing, he stood next to me. And when he was manning the decks, I was with him in the DJ console. We danced, we laughed and we had loads of fun. Our sweat mixed as he glided his hands along mine. Our faces touched and we whispered into each other’s ears. By the end of the night, there was a fight and the bouncers threw the boys out into the streets. I remember AB standing at the door, lighting up a cigarette. He said he would walk me to the car once those boys walked away. So we stood by the door and watched the boys wrestle and beat each other shitless. He came away with me for many nights. The nights stretched into days and the days into months and the months into years. I drove us around the city as we searched for the brightest lights. We parked the car by the lake and watched the sun rise. Our bare feet were on the dashboard when a police on patrol knocked on his side of the window. We laughed when the police asked us to go back home. We did go back to his home, where we sat on the porch. As months passed, we were kissing for hours in his living room. It was just a matter of time before I found myself in his bedroom, sleeping in his arms and leaving only when the sunrise. I remember us kissing as raindrops gently splashed down the roof tiles of his single storey link house. I could hear his mother wake up to take her morning walks. We lay on our backs and I saw small circles of smoke rising towards the ceiling, then disappearing. We held hands as the rain lulled us to gentle slumber. *** Writing this makes me think of really sweet memories of people who came away with me and changed our lives as a result. This process of coming away creates a very strong bond between the people who partook of the process. Through my experience of coming away with different people, I know that it creates an illusion that you belong to each other. It builds an emotional union that is strong and impresses itself into your memory. Once you have come away with a person, you will look at each other different and you will develop your own private language. You will start to talk with your eyes. And out of the sea of a few hundred people, you will only see that one person because you have tamed him and he has tamed you. I shall end this entry with a passage taken from The Little Prince by Antoine Saint De Exupery. ”What does tamed mean?” *** Related Links
Labels: AB, Alex, HighSchoolSweetheart, relationship |
I enjoyed this entry and I particularly like how you often use passages from The Little Prince by Antoine Saint De Exupery to complement your entries :)
as usual,i love your pennings =)
Looooooove this post!
Now your video clips is playing in my mind too.... :P
hehe...
that is so true...
this may not mean much coming from a puny little 20 yr old.. but well;
kinda stumbled across your blog recently. ive only read a few posts.. but i just love the way you write (i especially like this entry).
i dont usually opt for reading random ppls blogs-- but i cant help myself when it comes to yours. lol.
it just has this "feel-good" thing going on, even if its a sad melancholic post (does tht make sense?). i dunno, thats just what i get from reading your stuff.
anyway. my point was, great writing! and, i hope you keep writing..