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shiny happy people
vivienna nostalgia the old blurificationthe old photogalleria |
11.12.02 
well, well, well. past few days were rather busy ones, what with starbucks' training thingie and meeting up friends both old and new. always good to be walking all around town with soles 0.5cm thick under your shoes. can't wait to start actual werk and shake hands with the shiny happy people in marina square, and share with them tales of small domestic animals being rescued out of wells... well. yesterday was a day of new thoughts and experiences hopefully forgotten, but still in the head, some sort of a trinket, like that mini-torchlight that never works hidden away deep in the recesses of a glove compartment. let's see.. my friends were apparently getting bored and decided to head east to geylang's red lights and 'kuah cha bor'. or even more colloquially, 'kan xiao ji'. probably a mistake to have tagged along, but it wasn't as bad as signing up for being a NASA space monkey. anyhoo. i didn't enjoy walking through any of geylang's lorongs and look at what the brothels had to offer. no, we weren't there to score. yes, just the simple act of looking. no, "it's not wrong". yes, curiosity fucked the cat's mind up. pardon me for being a wet blanket, but i just didn't feel right. how shall i describe the scene? sick? sordid? sad? pathetic? exciting? one row of tramps displaying themselves right at the entrance of a hotel, probably built very recently. crowds of men, at least a hundred, observing nothing but made-up faces, pushed-up bosoms and protruding nether areas. not an easy stance to hold for hours on end i must say, though nothing compared to grimness of the entire mentality that is prostitution. there's even an enterprising drinks seller amongst the crowds. these females are hitting rock bottom; the lowest of the low points in the lives, and for some, it'd last an eternity. all of them living in false consciousness - selling themselves to 'make a living', support their spouse, and for those really fucked in the heads, to buy that $1000 prada bag. ogling at them isn't wrong? just look around the area, you see groups of men engaging in conversation that'd titillate imaginations and incite raging hormones. they come for many walks of life. how many of them would you trust in a less bleak context? why are they lowering their self-esteem, self-image, 'face' or whatever, to such levels? do you think there're different levels of 'ego' when you're within that crowd? if one does it as part of their 'transformation into adulthood' programme, i suggest the SDU. which is better, having your peers know you've been staining thousands of beds or admitting that you're not good with the opposite gender - although you're taking relationships tons more serious than the former-mentioned? my mentality's possibly warped, but all i can advice is that we settle for the 'chicks' we chance upon the street. they're like fulfilling pieces of hay after rummaging through a pile of needles. prostitution is sticking your arm into a haystack containing syringes with an assortment of venereal diseases in them. looking at 'xiao ji' is likened to a growing addiction to hay. maybe i'm playing keys the wrong way. have an enjoyable 2nd half to the 2nd-third of the week that's 2nd to penultimate of 2002 :) 0 Comments: |
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