Do the lion-tamers, bear-fighters, ball-jugglers,
Fire-eaters, stunt-heroes and the circus freaks comfort him?
No, they don’t.
What are they going to say to him anyway?
Cheer up?
Puh-leez.
Self-absorbed, maybe?
Cant be bothered, maybe?
Or…their lives are too dangerous and tedious enough to care?
Maybe all.
Hidup sendiri, mati sendiri lah, badut.
Come to think of it, a crying clown seems freakishly funny.
Ah...
That's why!
“Just like Pagliacci did
I try to keep my surface hid
Smiling in the crowd I try
But in a lonely room I cry
The tears of a clown
When there's noone around, oh yeah, baby baby
Now if there's a smile on my face
Don't let my glad expression
Give you the wrong impression
Don't let this smile I wear
Make you think that I don't care
Cos really I'm sad...” (Tears Of A Clown, Smokey Robinson)
Initial plans all didn’t materialise. Was looking forward to a Sunday-day-out (after living like an Amish hermit) but yeah…no. That’s why must remind myself not to depend on anyone cause it will totally spoil a great day, wont it?
Anyway… had a place in mind but when I saw #165 heading towards me, I just got on it. Ended up at Holland Village. Somehow I always end up there alone since last time. They need to expand that place more. It’s too small. I covered it up so fast. Went to my favourite bakery/pastry shop and got me some stuff. Stopped at Gramophone and almost rented Raging Bull. But the thought of having to return it was off-putting.
You win, you win.
You lose, you still win. (Joey LaMotta)
Took a bus to town and headed to Borders. But first, gluttony got the better of me and I sat down (somewhere) to stuff my face with cranberry juice, chocolate chip scone and the freaking melted cinnamon sugar bun. *sniff*.. melted already.
And so there was an idiot at Wheelock Place just now, eating cinnamon bun…with sugar on her fingers, mouth, nose and hair. Sweet.
Headed to Borders soon after and was intrigued by a Karen Armstrong’s book on comparative religion and origin of religions. Interesting. Was hooked until a really really smelly woman sat beside me. I knew she was a smoker cause she had that smell in her hair, clothes and God when she yawned…it was like a sewage foam party! Oi, busuk lah!
Headed to the Media side and grabbed the book which I had planned to read up – Tom Plate’s Confessions of an American Media Man: What They Don't Tell You at Journalism School.
Am too cheap to buy it, can?
But I will..with the next paycheck.
Don’t know when. .hah.
Oh was looking at Clara’s “first-class” photos on Friendster and saw this, taken last March at the restaurant in Holiday Inn.
Noreen couldn’t join us. No biggie.
And Weiling, thank you for the kind motivating words yesterday. You couldn’t imagine the effect. It meant quite a lot, really..cause you’re the one and only so far to say that. I’ll keep hanging on. Thank you for your support..now go, get married.
Awrite, I’m tired. The bus journeys to Holland V, to town and then back home were fun. The sights and people mannerisms were a joy to watch. But ah..they sapped me.
A thousand times goodnight, back-to-schoolers…and I meant, the teachers.
P/S: It is sucky to be very, very self-aware,isnt it? You feel bad / regretful / ashamed for feeling upset and shitty because the world is already burdened by other problems and there are many people who are also facing their own problems. I hate it when my head comes up with reasons against the emotional heart, rebutting and mocking every desperate-for-attention action. Why can others trouble other people with their worries but I cant seem to tell mine? Just because they dont ask, why cant I open my mouth and voluntarily share my day..just like others? Oh well. It's good to be self-reliant, really.
P/P/S: I must get away from attention-seeking people for the time being. Tired of hearing their "Me..me..me.." nonsense.
P/P/S/S: The head is telling me to stop my nonsense, get laid and go to bed. Hahaha.
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