Tuesday, August 08, 2006
Normalcy Restored?

Having spent the better part of the last few weeks trying to get my verve back, I have to admit that things are finally starting to take on some semblance of normalcy. It's not that I am completely alright again because there is still a stretch to surmount before I can say that, but hey, at least I am finding that I can, somewhat, hold a conversation again. Yeah, when you hear that, you have to wonder how much I bottomed out...

Funny thing is, sometimes (including today, for instance), I can still walk without realization as to whether my consciousness is holding it all together. There are many a times when I have floated, rather than walked, around with my mind not entirely sure of its bearings nor its surroundings. Awesome (I would only classify it as awful if I got into an accident because of it) thing is...I am not even on any kind of medication and I achieved this pseudo-hallucinatory effect all on my own. The blood that courses through my veins must be a natural opiate. Drug abusers, I adjure: Forget Subutex, take my blood instead. Let the name of the Lion City be now known as Vampire City.

Oh yeah, oh yeah...I guess I am chirpier now, started over the weekend. Less grouchy and infinitely less angry (and there is a lot to be angry about). For some reason I have yet to fathom. Maybe, as I told Iceman, I just wore out my own depression, if that's possible.

Just the past Saturday, a date asked me out to accompany her to watch the Singapore Fireworks Festival that was taking place over Marina Bay. Having promised her more than a couple of weeks ago that we'd PLAY POOL, I was just slightly taken aback by the change of plans and more manifestly, the idea that I am watching fireworks with her. I really did not believe that to be a good idea. I'd really prefer to watch such things with my girl.

Now now now. I am not saying that my date was bad company. She's alright, although she could have spoken a little more. Even in my hermetic state of mind, I have had to play the conversationist. How freaking nice.

Blah blah blah. The dinner at the Esplanade worked charmingly. After that was over, we worked our way away from the Esplanade, which was teeming with hordes of bodies, some extremely alluring, others much less so. Important matter was that there was not much standing room left to be found to procure an unobstructed view of the proceedings, so I made the call to move to Fullerton to get a better view of the fireworks display.

We never really made our way there, of course. At the end, I felt that the Esplanade Bridge probably offers as good a view as any other vantage points around the area and I asked her if the bridge will do and she said ok.

And then, the fireworks went off. And it was beautiful. Much more so than I had envisaged. Or maybe I am just a sucker for beautiful things. No matter the number of times I have had seen them. During the time when the night skies were lit in an array of colours, you just had a feeling of being/falling in love. And you might, in good sense, turn around and put an arm around the special one (I do not mean Jose Mourinho in any way) and whisper in his/her ear, "The only thing more beautiful than that, dear, is you." So I turned around, looked at my date for a moment and...






turned back to admire the pyrotechnics again. @#$%^&*.

Lesson: Never watch fireworks with just any Tom, Dick and Harry nor Jane, Susan and Debbie.