Lets start from last Thursday.
I had Childrens Literature last Thursday, and people talked about the bookworm club for an hour or so. You realize how tragically insular the majority of local attempts at art and/or literature really is. The class broke up late, I finished a test on The Curious Incident of the Dog at the Night Time, which is a very good book, and went home with a classmate and the lecturer. That was strange, I was sandwiched between two big blokes on the MRT, and I like the lecturer, so I had to try very hard not to flirt too obviously. I think I wasnt very convincing, and I thought I behaved a little bit too silly. But like that matters.
Richards parents came down on Friday. Theyre staying at a really posh hotel. Its been a real long time since I actually went to one of those hotels, they remind me of the short time with Chris, and the bizarre afternoon teas in the lounge and evening workouts in fancy gyms. Those places are not in reality, theyre outside conventional time, outside normal daily life. The people there are all twilight people, kinda like pilots and air-stewardesses, but its even stranger, because you can live in a hotel for awhile, but you cant stay there forever.
We had tea with them on the first day. I like them, theyre very normal and very strange at the same time. Probably because theyre in Singapore, and theyre so well they are where they just came from, I guess. And that made the whole thing feel even more like a twilight zone. Because the hotel is this thing that is physically in your country, but theres so little in it thats like your country, and the Singaporeans in it have slipped into another world just by being there. I think theres a fantastical story you could tell with those elements.
I climbed on top of him yesterday. I dont do that very often because Im lazy, and it doesnt really work out for either of us anyway, so I dont do it very often. But it was nice because I get to see his face properly, and I think hes beautiful. Looking at people is kinda weird. You look at them too close, at too weird angles, they dont look like themselves. Sometimes. They become an abstract shape, their faces become planes, become individual elements. And sometimes I muse to myself whether or not theyre the same person.
We made love, and after that we showered. He came into the bedroom bleeding. Oh my god, I cut the sausage. It was freaky. An accident with the razor, he was trapped between shock/surprise and amusement. It didnt hurt, but it was bleeding.
We met my parents for lunch, Tim Sum, very Hong Kong style Greasy Spoon with pigs guts and all. I felt like having goose liver, but didnt. Then we met his parents for dinner in the twilight zone, and I had goose liver and a dessert (his mom calls it A Sweet), and it was unbelievably expensive. Apparently the chef is an international prize winner in the culinary world. Cooking is the art we have a foothold in, within the context of the rest of the world. Although I still think the food was a little too greasy. And I would be content with French Toast and ham any damn day.
I had Childrens Literature last Thursday, and people talked about the bookworm club for an hour or so. You realize how tragically insular the majority of local attempts at art and/or literature really is. The class broke up late, I finished a test on The Curious Incident of the Dog at the Night Time, which is a very good book, and went home with a classmate and the lecturer. That was strange, I was sandwiched between two big blokes on the MRT, and I like the lecturer, so I had to try very hard not to flirt too obviously. I think I wasnt very convincing, and I thought I behaved a little bit too silly. But like that matters.
Richards parents came down on Friday. Theyre staying at a really posh hotel. Its been a real long time since I actually went to one of those hotels, they remind me of the short time with Chris, and the bizarre afternoon teas in the lounge and evening workouts in fancy gyms. Those places are not in reality, theyre outside conventional time, outside normal daily life. The people there are all twilight people, kinda like pilots and air-stewardesses, but its even stranger, because you can live in a hotel for awhile, but you cant stay there forever.
We had tea with them on the first day. I like them, theyre very normal and very strange at the same time. Probably because theyre in Singapore, and theyre so well they are where they just came from, I guess. And that made the whole thing feel even more like a twilight zone. Because the hotel is this thing that is physically in your country, but theres so little in it thats like your country, and the Singaporeans in it have slipped into another world just by being there. I think theres a fantastical story you could tell with those elements.
I climbed on top of him yesterday. I dont do that very often because Im lazy, and it doesnt really work out for either of us anyway, so I dont do it very often. But it was nice because I get to see his face properly, and I think hes beautiful. Looking at people is kinda weird. You look at them too close, at too weird angles, they dont look like themselves. Sometimes. They become an abstract shape, their faces become planes, become individual elements. And sometimes I muse to myself whether or not theyre the same person.
We made love, and after that we showered. He came into the bedroom bleeding. Oh my god, I cut the sausage. It was freaky. An accident with the razor, he was trapped between shock/surprise and amusement. It didnt hurt, but it was bleeding.
We met my parents for lunch, Tim Sum, very Hong Kong style Greasy Spoon with pigs guts and all. I felt like having goose liver, but didnt. Then we met his parents for dinner in the twilight zone, and I had goose liver and a dessert (his mom calls it A Sweet), and it was unbelievably expensive. Apparently the chef is an international prize winner in the culinary world. Cooking is the art we have a foothold in, within the context of the rest of the world. Although I still think the food was a little too greasy. And I would be content with French Toast and ham any damn day.
I really like how you describe the hotels... multi-nationally diluted insertions of British Culture into the Singapore mainstream. I'll bet it really is like a twilight zone... where you can switch cultural perspectives by simply walking through a door.
Yes, looking at people is kinda wierd... not only because their appearance changes with perspective, but also because so many people's faces tend to lend themselves to characature. And there have been times when I've reduced their facial lines & expressions into geometric abstractions... sometimes with the help of some great drugs.
I've only recently discovered your journal... & I find your writing style engaging, whatever the subject. Hope you don't mind if I peek in occasionally.
[Edited on Apr 02, 2006 9:17PM]