Hard to believe we’re almost done going through with August, with September beckoning. The stream of time flows so quickly. If only there’s a pause button somewhere to stem this flow. I’d even want to return to that part in time when M had so eagerly and convincingly coaxed me into his life. I so wish to return to that time and say no to him.
Too late. Defiled and dumped already. I’m now just a piece of junk that’s been taken on a ride and then thrown aside. Time has not healed me so far.
Certain church friends would now rather not have anything to do with me: “Isn’t there any other church people out there whom you can talk to?”
No. Those “other church people” don’t know M (even though they might know him in some way, or heard about him). And they don’t know me. They’d listen to barely half my story and suddenly talk about forgiveness. No, I won’t forgive M. One cannot condemn violence against women but still behave no different from any other idiotic male animal when left alone with a woman.
I recently walked past the place where he used to stay in. Someone else stays there now. Someone else now sleeps on the bed where M had used to mess up my life. Silly me thought we’d be together till the end of time, if ever there’s such a thing. Such naiveté.
“See if you can find me after this,” so he had said.
You can go to hell for all I care, M.
Let’s see… Why did I even bother choosing him?
Because a man who speaks so convincingly about violence against women, human trafficking and human rights is not the type of person who’d shout at a woman and not bully a woman with all kinds of demands, right? And because a man who can rub shoulders with all kinds of NGO people and wax lyrical about the good things he has done for so many poor people out there is not the type of person who would leave you all sad and lost after getting tired of fcuking you, right?
Yeah, right.
And this same bloody racist atheist even once said that atheists don’t believe in life after death. They believe that they have only one chance to do something, and with that one chance, they must not blow up that chance to get that something done. So you’ve got your chance to fool around with me, are you happy now, M? You know there was no one else before you. And most likely no one else also after you because I’m already too sick to look beyond- “FRAGILE. DO NOT TOUCH”. FML.
I watched “The Purple Rose of Cairo” not too long ago. Despite being the pervert that he is, Woody Allen did a good job with this movie. I instantly identified myself as the silly female character in that movie, played by Mia Farrow. While watching the same movie repeatedly to get away from her life’s problems, Mia soon realized that one of the characters in the movie had suddenly come into being and just walked out from the cinema screen to approach her. Mia fell for that created character that simply charmed her socks off- unreal yet beautiful in many ways. Similarly, I fell for M’s created character: brave, charming, talented. He’s good at fleshing out characters, and many would never know who and what the real M is.
I will always remember that little adventure we had in a certain country. He wanted to look at ancient rock shelters and log coffins because of his passion for ancient and dead things. To get to one of these places, we had to climb up this one stupid hill which took almost forever to climb. And while climbing down the hill again (more like slipping down), I got away with a little scratch on my leg caused by a little thorny plant. That silly man came down looking all frazzled and somewhat dazed, and totally got his leg all bloodied up because he intelligently walked into a tree stump which only he had not noticed. He was probably looking around and hoping for sexy “apsaras” to appear from amongst the trees and didn’t notice much of anything else that could endanger him. This is probably what happens when a person decides to take a dump near an ancient log coffin area.
Apsaras (Angkor Wat, Cambodia)Another time was when we were walking by the roadside, along a row of shops. He directly walked into an iron-pole and got a bloody cut above his eye. He thought the pole was made of plastic or rubber. So being the invincible genius that he is, he proceeded to walk straight into that pole thing.
“Don’t tell my sponsors how I got injured,” so he had said.
Yeah. Sure. My lips are sealed. I didn’t move my lips at all while typing out this sentence.
So with the pictures he had taken of himself and his injuries, he probably wants the general public/rich sponsors to believe that he had been attacked by a tribe of marauding savages (probably remnants from Kublai Khan’s ancient armed forces), or that he had wrestled with giant man-eating plants that morphed into many-headed cobras.
The word “Naga” comes from the Sanskrit, and “nag” is still the word for snake, especially the cobra, in most of the languages of India.
Any man who desires to be greatly admired would eventually write a book about something. Our friend here has been talking about this desire since many years ago. He made me visit a certain archaeology site three times to take pictures for his silly book, and he made me travel 3 hours to another site in the heavy rain to take pictures of some forgotten ancient wall scribbling. All that effort wasted because I don’t think he’ll be using those pictures. Bloody fool (I’m referring to myself).
He even made one of his loyal friends, Sean, go all over the city to look for a book for him. He already has that book. It’s just that he couldn’t gain access into his house to get that darn book for his research. He loves sending people all over the place to get things done for him. He takes pride in having people addressing him as “Hitler”.
Why Hitler? Hitler committed suicide.
Back to his book project. Because he considers himself a great Jedi, or simply because he got “Ketuanan Sejarah”, he’s come up with this great idea to get this whole group of well-qualified writers to contribute to his book. This type of “ketuanan” that he possesses can be defined as “Chakravartin”. And because he is Mr. Chakravartin, he can control many people through his Hitler-inspired style of leading.
My knowledge in history is extremely limited. I learned that new word “chakravartin” about 10 minutes ago. Can’t rival with someone else’s 10+ years of history knowledge and travels all over South East Asia.
I wonder why he keeps criticizing a certain group of politicians. I don’t think he’s any different from any of them. Except that he probably holds a portfolio that’s slightly more unique compared to the rest (simply because he loves being different from all the other 6 billion++ people on this planet).
He should consider learning some manners from his favourite idol, THE MAN. From what I’ve read, THE MAN is a caring father and husband. He did not abandon his wife when the going got real tough for him. What a proud, happy father he was when his daughter recently graduated from university.
Cropped picture of THE MAN. Long ago, M got me a hat with this same design on it too. He's totally obsessed with THE MAN.
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