mental indigestion

V is for (The) Very Thought of You April 26, 2016

Filed under: A-Z Challenge — mel @ 9:00 am
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I don’t need your photograph to keep by my bed
Your picture is always in my head
I don’t need you portrait, dear, to call you to mind
For sleeping or waking, dear, I find

The very thought of you
And I forget to do
The little ordinary things
That everyone ought to do

I’m living in a kind of daydream
I’m happy as a queen
And foolish though it may seem
To me that’s everything

The mere idea of you
The longing I hear for you
You’ll never know
How slow the moments go
Till I’m near to you

I see your face in every flower
Your eyes in stars above
It’s just the thought of you,
The very thought of you, my love

He had a superpower that no one knew about and he was happy to keep it that way. Whenever he missed someone, he could conjure that person up and converse with them in his bedroom.

At first, he limited it to loved ones who had died, like his Ah Mah who took care of him. Ah Mah had always doted on him so she didn’t mind being hauled up from another dimension, though she did nag a little.

“Aiyoh, boy ah, you so big already need to stand on your own two feet ok? Ah Mah cannot always be there for you, you know?” she’d mutter while stroking his cheek.

But lately, he’d discovered he could get people who were alive to come to his bedroom if they were in a deep sleep. He knew because in the wee hours of the morning, he’d call upon Nellly Lee, his favourite actress in the whole wide world a few times a week.

“Wow, this place feels so déjà vu, I’m so sure I’ve been here before,” Nelly would always mutter as she frantically scanned his bedroom. She’d then get a start because she would see him sitting by his bed, and then she would stick her finger out at him.

“You! I know you! I’ve seen you before in my other nightmares before right? Crap, I really need to change those sleeping meds.”

He also knew why she was able to nab all those Best Actress awards for her convincing crying scenes – it’s because she loved crying in real (dream) life as well.

Though he’d ideally would have liked a more two-way conversation between them, Nelly appeared to have a lot of baggage to unload and so he pretended to listened to her most of the time. She was pretty even when she cried.

He became quite fond of being personal pals with Nelly (in Sleepyland), so he became a little concerned when she didn’t appear for a few nights. Imagine his horror when he read in the papers later that Nelly Lee had attempted suicide by overdosing on strong sleeping pills and was now in a coma. Her psychiatrist, who was paid a ton of money by the newspapers to spill the beans, reported that Nelly had been complaining of repetitive dreams with a sad boy and his pet dragon, and suspected acute schizophrenia.

“When Nelly wakes up, and I’m sure she will for her fans, we will begin intensive therapy right away to ensure she will be in time to receive her award for Most Well-Loved Actress,” the report had said.

Oh no oh no, oh no, this is all my fault, he thought to himself. Later that night, he thought as hard as possible of Nelly, and she appeared with seaweed in her hair looking unusually unkempt.

“Nelly!” he cried. “Where have you been?”

She looked at him and smiled.

“Can I stay here with you forever? That way, we’ll be together all the time!”

For the first time in his life, he wished a woman wouldn’t pay so much attention to him.

 

S is for ‘S Wonderful April 22, 2016

Filed under: A-Z Challenge — mel @ 9:00 am
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‘S wonderful! ‘S marvelous!
You should care for me!
‘S awful nice! ‘S paradise!
‘S what I love to see!

You’ve made my life so glamorous
You can’t blame me for feeling amorous.
Oh! ‘S wonderful! ‘S marvelous!
That you should care for me!

‘S wonderful! ‘S marvelous!
That you should care for me!
‘S awful nice! ‘S paradise!
‘S what I love to see!

My dear, it’s four-leaf clover time
From now on my heart’s working overtime.
Oh! ‘S wonderful! ‘S marvelous!
That you should care for me!

How I want my hair? I don’t know. What you think? Just a trim? No? Something different. No lah, I where got adventurous, I’m just damn tired can. I have so many white hairs now wah lao. What? Colour pink? You sure or not? Ok lah, up to you. Just not too short ok? Yah, like this can. You sure pink ah. Will it dry my hair up? No? Made in Germany? Ok. Wah, thanks for free serum.

Eh, you look younger now leh, like Korean actor like that, can share secret with me can? Wah, pomelo juice, really ah? Maybe I also try. Yes need lah, old liao already. No lah I where got in my 20s only hee hee you ah. Thank you thank you, I haven’t gone facial long time still can pass off as 20-something not bad already lah.

No lah I where got natural beauty? Everyday just wear shorts, T-shirt and spectacles what. What to do? Housewife mah. Become housewife sure turn into unglam auntie one. I tell you, no point blowdry poof poof my hair until Indonesian socialite for what? Come home to chasing three kids around, hair sure go frizzy and sticky lor.

Wah the hair colour is really very pink hor? Hope my hubby don’t freak out. He already so grumpy when I tell him I need to cut hair because the weather so hot.  I told him if I don’t cut my hair then I don’t do housework lor…what to do, that is the only way to keep that bugger off my back.

How’s  Nancy? How I know. Don’t know and don’t care hrmpf! Nancy and I no longer friend each other liao.

You know why? I really cannot take her showing off all the time lah. You remember when we came together the last time? You remember right, I know you do, don’t just stand there and smile silently lah.  That Nancy ah, she had to keep flicking her hair around to show how much shiner her hair is next to my broomstick hair lor…really cannot take it. This kind of thing also must compete, as if always comparing our husband’s pay and kids’ exam results are not enough. She got a lot of time to spare lor! Yah lah, yah lah, I know, we used to be good friends. Yah lah yah lah, I know, her mother has been sick and her older son has been diagnosed as autistic. Ok lah, I message her later. But only for you hor.

Done? What? Another hour? Talk to me leh.

 

(I’m writing this in Singlish, my de facto form of communication. It has been a sapping week and this is about all I can manage for now.)

 

R is for Route 66 April 21, 2016

Filed under: A-Z Challenge — mel @ 9:00 am
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If you ever plan to motor west,
Travel my way, take the highway that’s best.
Get your kicks on Route sixty-six.

It winds from Chicago to LA,
More than two thousand miles all the way.
Get your kicks on Route sixty-six.

Now you go through Saint Louis
Joplin, Missouri,
And Oklahoma City is mighty pretty.
You’ll see Amarillo,
Gallup, New Mexico,
Flagstaff, Arizona.
Don’t forget Winona,
Kingman, Barstow, San Bernandino.

Won’t you get hip to this timely tip:
When you make that California trip
Get your kicks on Route sixty-six.

Won’t you get hip to this timely tip:
When you make that California trip
Get your kicks on Route sixty-six.
Get your kicks on Route sixty-six.
Get your kicks on Route sixty-six.

I once went on Route 66 from Missouri to Arizona for Alternative Spring Break with the most disparate group of white people who spoke to me very slowly thinking my English wasn’t good.

Guy was a frat boy with socialist leanings and told me he wanted to backpack around Southeast Asia one day and live in Bangkok for a few years as a musician.

Ben was a farmer boy who loved cow-tipping and played Disney techno music when it was his turn to drive.

Scott was in the school’s football team and talked a lot about protein shakes.

Lisa was Scott’s girlfriend who made sure no other girl could talk to Scott.

Julie was against most chemicals and made a personal decision to bathe only once a month.

Laura thought my bleached blonde streaks of hair were natural and asked me if that ran in the family.

In Joplin Missouri, Ben was dance-driving to a revved-up version of Beauty and the Beast as the girls laughed. “Disney is my happy place,” he declared. Guy brought up Disney Illuminati conspiracy theories. Did you know Little Mermaid’s underwater castle has a tower the shape of a penis?

“Why don’t you just burn the American flag while you’re at it, huh Guy? Do you want to take this outside?” said Ben. My crush on him diminished exponentially after that.

Julie bought a lot of processed food at petrol station stops. She loved Cheetos. At one petrol station in Texas, I gaped at a lady in a thick white fur coat and stiletto white leather boots buying bottled water. “I won’t be surprised if she wasn’t wearing anything under that coat. Lots of rich trash here,” Guy whispered.

Supermarketing in an Arizonian countryside town: many, many different types of chili. I wish I could have bought them to add to scrambled eggs but instead ingredients are bought for grilled cheese sandwiches and pasta meals with lots of potato chips and soft drinks. I wrote and send out a postcard to a friend back home and Laura couldn’t stop laughing when I wrote “USA” at the end of the return address. I don’t think she’s ever sent international mail.

The desert sky is beautiful both day and night. In the day, the clouds are wispy, like they decided to express themselves as little squiggles as an afterthought. At night, the stars sparkle in full radiance, unhindered without all the urban layers of distraction.

 

Q is for Quien Sera (Who Will It Be?) April 20, 2016

Filed under: A-Z Challenge — mel @ 9:00 am
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Quien será el que me quiere a mi?
Quien será?, quien será?
Quien será el que me de su amor?
Quien será?, quien será?
Yo no se si lo podré encontrar
Yo no se, yo no se
Yo no se si volveré a querer
Yo no se, yo no se
Eh querido volver a vivir
La pasión y el calor de otro amor
Otro amor que me hiciera sentir
Que me hiciera feliz como ayer lo fui

Ay quien será el que me quiere a mi?
Quien será?, quien será?
Quien será el que me de su amor?
Quien será?, quien será?
Eh querido volver a vivir
La pasión y el calor de otro amor
Otro amor que me hiciera sentir
Que me hiciera feliz como ayer lo fui

Quien será el que me quiere a mi?
Quien será?, quien será?
Quien será el que me de su amor?
Quien será?, quien será?
Yo no se si lo podré encontrar
Yo no se, yo no se
Yo no se si volveré a querer
Yo no se, yo no se

Hey!

(Quien será que a mi me quiera?) Que a mi me quiera y no me abandone
(Quien será?) Quien será, quien será, el que me adore?
(Quien será que a mi me quiera?) Amor del bueno, amor sincero, amor eterno, amor

Si me encuentro en sus brazos
Tocarme entregada
El tuviese mi alma y siempre viviré
Enredada en su piel, realizada con él
Wooh!
Pa’ ti!
Te quiero flaquito

Hola amigos! My name is Carl I’m here in the beautiful land of Brazil to find my one true love and I can’t wait to get deep into the search. Many thanks to Matchmade Productions for sponsoring this once-in-a-lifetime trip around the world for their cutting-edge, award-winning hit show “Searching for Soulmate”.

As a just-on-the-brink-of-stardom artiste, travelling has taken a backseat these past few years as I focused on auditions. Man, I’m so glad I passed this one because I think this will really be that one big break I’ve been looking for all these years. Over a million followers on the Searching for Soulmate FB page, and 3 million on Instagram? OMG the exposure!!

What? Oh of course, I’m supposed to be talking about my tragic love life for the introductory voiceover. Seriously, you do know that’s not really the case, right? But of course, this is reality TV, so it has to be muy dramatico.

(Clears throat) I thought that it would be impossible to love again after my heart was broken by a cheating girlfriend two years ago. But I had a dream, and in that dream, a lady in white walks towards me, places her hand on my head and says, “Love is where you find it.” I woke up with a new sense of hope. The universe was telling me that the love of my life is somewhere out there, and I will get to her even if it means travelling all around the world to find her.

How’s that, Cameraman Joe? Great! So apparently the lady participants will be wearing white bikinis and they will be walking towards the camera with their hands reaching out to me. Heh, Uncle Joe, I’m so sure you’re going to have fun at the shoot.

Based on the script so far, there are some fine-looking (and diverse, that’s so important) specimens in the ladies’ line-up for the South America and Australia episodes. The casting producer made sure he only hired models with acting ambition so they would look good crying in hot tubs (the swimsuit sponsor was very firm about that).

Anyway, last night, I met up with last year’s “Searching for Soulmate” bachelor Kevin last night just to get some insider tips. He is doing so well for himself with all these cameos in K-pop videos (he is super hot stuff in Seoul, that lucky bastard). He’s also worked out a really doable arrangement with TV-fiancée Ashley to meet once a week at a high-profile event to take lovey-dovey photos together. Apparently, Ashley is going to get her own show soon called “Searching for Prince Charming” (after they announce their break-up this summer).

Woops, I’ve got to go know – spray tan time before the first shoot tomorrow night. I’m so pumped (and yes, I better pump too)! Do you think I should vlog as well?

 

P is for Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps April 19, 2016

Filed under: A-Z Challenge — mel @ 9:00 am
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You won’t admit you love me
And so how am I ever to know?
You always tell me
Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps

A million times I’ve asked you,
And then I ask you over again
You only answer
Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps

If you can’t make your mind up
We’ll never get started
And I don’t wanna wind up
Being parted, broken-hearted

So if you really love me
Say yes, but if you don’t dear, confess
And please don’t tell me
Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps

Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps

If you can’t make your mind up
We’ll never get started
And I don’t wanna wind up
Being parted, broken-hearted

So if you really love me
Say yes, but if you don’t dear, confess
And please don’t tell me
Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps
Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps

Dear Jenny,

I know you are expecting a clearcut answer from me. After all, we have been together for five years.

However, you do know that I am unable to  lie, and I cannot say I love you, mostly because I don’t really know what love feels like. It is impossible for me to categorically state things that are not wired socionormatively  in my brain.

Look, I have not even told my mother that I love her, and she has done so much more than you have ever done for me. (To be fair, she has had a twenty-year head start.) Even up till today, she tells me she loves me after we talk on Skype each night and does not expect me to reciprocate the ridiculous air-kissing. Perhaps you may wish to converse with her on how she has executed unconditional love with such pep all these years.

But aside from this misgiving that seems to have resurfaced these past few day (i.e. not going “official” – whatever does that mean? are documents required?), I do think our relationship has been quite efficient, pleasant and intellectually-stimulating. People tell me that I smile a lot more these days, and based on empirical records, it does appear to be true.

While I view most things in this world as absolutes, I am afraid I can only offer you a subjective reply to your recent question i.e. “Do I love you?”. My answer, as I’ve mentioned to you before, is perhaps.

Perhaps I should state how I will honour our relationship for as long as you don’t find me insufferable. Firstly, I will not cheat on you as that is an utter waste of energy. Secondly, I will make it a point to bring you to at least one dinner each week where I will stay silent as you talk about all that is happening in your life. Thirdly, I will say sorry even when I know I am right.

 

I sensed a disturbance seeing you cry last night. In offering this magnanimous olive branch, I do hope that you will at least e-mail me so I will know how to proceed from here.

I am sorry.

Yours sincerely,

John

 

 

 

O is for Orange-coloured Sky April 18, 2016

Filed under: A-Z Challenge — mel @ 9:00 am
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I was walking along, minding my business
When out of an orange colored sky
(Flash, bam, alakazam)
Wonderful you came by

I was humming a tune, drinking in sunshine
When out of that orange colored view
(Flash, bam, alakazam)
I got a look at you

One look and I yelled timber
Watch out for flying glass
‘Cause the ceiling fell in and the bottom fell out
I went into a spin and I started to shout
I’ve been hit
(This is it, this is it, I’ve been hit)

I was walking along minding my business
When love came and hit me in the eye
(Flash, bam, alakazam)
Out of an orange colored sky

One look and I yelled timber
Watch out for flying glass
‘Cause the ceiling fell in and the bottom fell out
I went into a spin and I started to shout
I’ve been hit
(This is it, this is it, I’ve been hit)

I was walking along minding my business
When love came and hit me in the eye
(Flash, bam, alakazam)
Out of an orange colored, purple striped
Pretty green polka dot sky
(Flash, bam) alakazam and goodbye

Wow, I thought love was much softer than that
For the most disturbing sound

 

This evening, there was a beautiful sunset. The sky took on a brilliant orange-reddish hue that had to be shot and posted on my various social media platforms. Of course, some of my online acquaintances beat me to it, but I had the best view, from the rooftop of my 50-storey office building i.e. the smokers’ area. My photo, with the Mayfair filter, looked pretty damn good #inspiringlandscape #gorgeous_skies #whatawonderfulworld.

I was waiting for the “Likes” to come in when suddenly, I saw purple stripes and green polka dots flying across the sky (#omg #wtf #ufo). Before my trembling hands could snap some shots of that, there was a huge flashing light and the next moment, I woke up with a start in a glass room, lying on a glass bed,  with a pale, silver-haired lady who looked like a Liv Tyler-type Elven Queen hovering above me.

Who are you? I asked, surprisingly with just silent brain waves.

“There is no who. There is only you. I am just but a figment of your imagination and I can do anything your heart desires,” she replied rather sophisticatedly, to my head.

“What are you talking about you crazy lady?” I yelled as loudly as I could silently.

The strange lady touched what seemed to be a glowing contraption attached in her ear. “Oh crap. I’m not supposed to be here.” She touched my forehead and I could feel my eyes shut heavily even as my mind screamed in vacuumed panic.

When I next opened my eyes, I found Justin Timberlake in a tuxedo staring deep into me eyes.

“Hey girl, is this better? I’m here for you always,” he said, aloud this time.

“What the hell is going on?” I croaked. There were wires in me everywhere, but when I tried to rip them off, I realised I could not will my body move.

“It’s going to be alright, sweet cheeks, just routine check-ups, no implantation of alien eggs anywhere, just scan scan zap zap and everything will go right back to the way it was before you saw the orange-coloured sky.”

“But everyone saw the orange-coloured sky,” I growled.

“Well, yes, that’s why we’re in a bit of a tizzy here. Accidentally sent you the princess that was meant for one of the male specimens occupying the same building as you.”

I looked around the strange glass room with strange, glassy eyes that did not blink. It was good to have Justin Timberlake for company, VR as he was.

“So the whole world is getting a check-up today?” I asked as casually as I could.

He smiled and his eyes twinkled. Damn, this technology was good.

“Sure, girl. We do it every year. I remember last year, you were really hot for chocolate cronuts.”

“Oh you remember, that’s so sweet! But wait, how could I ever have forgotten this?”

“Well, if we have the technology to make Justin Timberlake your bff-bf, what makes you think we can’t configure memories on a mass scale?”

“This is beyond awesome.” I was beginning to enjoy myself, even if I was paralysed. “So Justin, can you tell me, what exactly are you researching about humankind? We’re a pretty primitive bunch compared to you guys.”

Justin combed through his hair and did a sexy little Bye-bye-bye dance move. “Well, if you really want to know angel face, we’re trying to create a treatment for love. Our fertility rate is really plummeting where we’re from and we’re projected to go extinct in 50 years at this rate. No one really interacts with each other in real life any more – their personalised tachyon personal assistants fulfill all their physical, emotional, intellectual and spiritual needs.

“So you kidnap us and appear to us as fantasy lovers so you can study every single thing that’s happening to us in our bodies when we are in love?”

“Precisely babe. I love how you always figure it out each time we meet. Beauty with brains, man, you are a rare diamond in the sky.”

“Urm, how many times have we met?”

“It’s been a good five years, baby.” Justin swept in to kiss me and I would have swooned if I could. However, I realised that the euphoria made me wiggle my fingers in glee.

“Interesting, once again, the energy force field from your crush on me is actually neutralising the behavior modification medication that is supposed to completely paralyse you for the next hour. Such a potently powerful mystery, this baser human emotion.”

Justin came closer to me. “Let’s try this one out, human lady.” He cleared his throat, got to his knees and declared a tad too dramatically to the cue of my favourite ballad This I Promise You, “I love you and want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Still, it worked. Both of my arms shot out to grab Justin to kiss him once more. He gently pulled me away and touched my forehead. Just before everything went black again, I suddenly remembered why there were these strange “JT” scratchings that sometimes appeared on my right hand.

 

 

N is for Night and Day April 17, 2016

Filed under: A-Z Challenge — mel @ 1:01 am
Tags: , , ,

Like the beat beat beat of the tom-tom
When the jungle shadows fall
Like the tick tick tock of the stately clock
As it stands against the wall
Like the drip drip drip of the raindrops
When the summer shower is through
So a voice within me keeps repeating you, you, you
Night and day, you are the one
Only you beneath the moon and under the sun
Whether near to me, or far
It’s no matter darling where you are
I think of you
Night and day, day and night, why is it so
That this longing for you follows wherever I go
In the roaring traffic’s boom
In the silence of my lonely room
I think of you
Night and day, night and day
Under the hide of me
There’s an oh such a hungry yearning burning inside of me
And its torment won’t be through
Till you let me spend my life making love to you
Day and night, night and day

She couldn’t sleep. And it’s not just because she was old, as the doctor told her before prescribing her a few months’ worth of Valium.

It was because of him. Henry. His laugh. The twinkle in his eyes every time they hobbled past each other on walkers. But my goodness, wasn’t she too old for crushes at the grand old age of 80?

She needed more sleep. Her blood pressure was too high, her feet were too swollen and her hair kept dropping. This was absolutely the wrong state to be thinking of well, old men.

Henry was two years older than her but still had a generous portion of snowy hair. He could pass off as 65 and people would probably think she was a cradle-snatcher if they ever dated.

Dating…now how would that take place in a nursing home? The attendants would probably be the occasional chaperones while checking to see of their pee bags were full, and the romantic meal would probably be oats or porridge because they didn’t have most of their teeth left.

But oh, to hold hands with someone again! Henry had a nice, crinkly, firm, warm grasp (she’d noticed that when they first shook hands). So much nicer than the clammy, flaccid and practically non-existent grip of her deceased husband (may God rest his soul) who was simply too lazy to expend energy in bending one’s fingers.

Henry spoke impeccable English and had read law in London, just like her. They’d spent many an afternoon sharing thoughts on their favourite books. He’d highly recommended Tennessee Williams and Isaac Asimov, while she asked her daughter to bring over her old Edith Wharton and Virginia Woolf books to prove to him those works were not just “chick lit” (a ridiculous term he’d learned from his teenaged grandson).

She wondered how their families would get along if the ever remarried. My goodness, what was she doing, thinking so far ahead? They’d only loaned each other books last week.

Get a grip of yourself, Patricia Chan, she told herself. She’d always prided on being the more logical and level-headed one in the family, and simply could not allow herself get into such ridiculous frivolities. For one, there was still that will that needed to be written.

(Secretly, she wondered whether this was the first symptom of dementia.)

Nurse Marie came in with the pills in a little plastic cup.

“How did you sleep last night, Mdm Chan? Did the Valium help?”

She shook her head morosely.

“Oh dear, let me increase the dosage a little and see if it helps you tonight ok?”

She nodded her head morosely.

“Oh Mrs Chan, I think Mr Tan wanted me to return these books to you and he included a note too.”

She knew it. Henry did not like the books and was gently turning her down with this seemingly polite gesture.

She deliberately ignored the folded sheet of lavender paper lying on her bedside table for a few hours. However, there was nothing much on TV and so she opened the note which was written in broad, yet gentle cursive strokes.

My dearest Pat,

It is lovely being able to read new works at this point in my life. Thank you for sharing your books with me. I hope to see you around this afternoon at the recreation room. Apparently, they’re serving berry crumble for tea today, and I do remember you telling me that was your favourite dessert.  

Yours,

Henry

A love letter! She clutched it close to her heart and suddenly felt sleepy.