Rendezvous
06 December 05 : 04.10 AM
A foreigner was hanged here in this country for drug trafficking got hundreds of people irated or bemoaning our government's lack of compassion.
J, Andii and I were talking about it the other day over lunch, laughing at how idiotic it all sounds. J said sarcastically, so maybe we should change our laws to death penalty for drug trafficking, except if one, you are helping a relative to repay their debt, two, you have a debt of $50,000 and above. Three strokes for $50,000 debt... and maybe if your debt is heavy enough, we may even allow you to sell your drugs here!
You know someone who takes drugs, and how it hurts him and the people who loves him, and you'll curse the motherfuckers who makes these stuff available to him.
Whatever the reason, there's the consequence that really, our government haven't exactly been trying to keep a secret. This is all so stupid anyway. I could talk about this all day but I decided it wouldn't matter to anyone here reading this.
b. and I were at Renfred's cafe on Saturday night. He has those cushion sofas that you literally sink into, and overhead lamps above the table that don't really make a difference whether it's there or not. Anyway, I really do like the sofa, so I didn't mean it when I spilled my coffee on it. Coffee stained my white (no, not off-white, or ivory or cream, but white) top too, and I had to take it off in the toilet, and stay in there while b. tried to wash it for me. Midnight movie; I don't even wanna begin talking about how many times b. and I looked at each other when everyone else in the theatre laughed at the dry jokes talking animals tried to make. Some things that people found endearing, I found painfully annoying, like the oversized pig who sings cheesy songs and the protagonist chicken who deserves to just be fried and served for being so fucking unfortunate.
That night, I reached home at about 4am, to read a book but ended up talking to b. on the phone until 8am, and I sat at the porch watching the sky bleach and the clouds turn colours like through tinted lenses. Colours like gold and ember and smoke.
I love mornings, and maybe because I'm not up early often, I'm appreciative of the chill and chirping birds and the gold of the sunbeam.
I was on the phone with Jarrett tonight, when b. called and said he was at my place already. He took me on a drive again, but brought me home by 1am, and we're talking again now.
"What's a big deal to you then?" I asked him.
"I'll say financial security, love of a special someone and intellectual stimulation" he said, and asked me that question in return.
"Love, I guess. I never thought about anything else. I thought they will just all fall into place once you have love."
"I agree, but the flipside is, everything falls apart when it goes."
Desiree, Elizabeth and I are talking about where are we going clubbing next. Zach just asked me who my new boyfriend is. I miss the cake Drey and I had last Friday. b. just told me that he believes whoever that comes along, I'll always be comparing him to christian.
"In any case, I see your eyes stare deep into the foreground often and I kinda guess it's him and the times you think about," b. said, and I felt my eyes fill, and blurred the screen, before I blinked it all away.
It's 3.58am, and Tori Amos is asking the same question Bob Geldof asked, what reasons do you need to die? And I don't like Mondays too.
I'm glad it's Tuesday, and the closure I wanted, I will never get, or at least, not yet but hey, tomorrow's here before you know it.