Quiet

"Feels like the end of the world." - John Mayer

I woke up this morning and felt an unfamiliar sound blaring outside my window, the world around me. I drew back the drapes to check if today is a Sunday rather than the initial Monday. Later, I would check my laptop's clock to see if it is indeed Monday. On Sundays, the roads would bear fewer cars flying by and the streets would be lonelier without Uni students going to class but for weekly grocery shoppings.

The first autumn winds finally swept past the skies, blowing off the last femininity of April, making room for the chilly heart of May. I woke up with a morning chill nibbling my skin. Even the warm comforter felt cold. May came into the room uninvited. May made the trees dance gleefully. Yet deceivingly, May kept April's sunburns and blue blue skies. Ah, how unpredictable the weather has gotten. It would require one to leave house with clothing accessories of all seasons. Shades. Sunblock. Scarf. Umbrella. Slippers or shoes. Skirt or jeans. Little petty indecisions of vanity.

For the past few days - weeks, perhaps - even the tiniest sounds would irritate me. My housemate's vibrating footsteps to the kitchen so many times echoing beneath me on the wooden floorboards. Her quite intentions I knew not of by the counter figuring out her long winded thoughts again and again. My landlady's husband's truck backing out of the "driveway" just outside my bedroom, the old metals screeching at a top pitch. And the rusty gates opening and closing above my head. The construction suddenly erected just outside my window due to reasons I could not quite understand. (Why did they have the sudden urge to dig up the sidewalk and flip the soil and restore everything back again). The cruel banging and drilling and hammering that cut short my beauty sleep at 10AM. It is still too early for me. And at night, the crazy screams and shrieks of my faceless neighbours. The sounds come from everywhere and obviously drunk, but I cannot find them. I cannot see them. They hide so professionally in the dark. Occasionally, booming ching-chong-chang's would walk past under my window. This year, Brisbane has been disturbingly populated by people from the Mainland, Hong Kong, Taiwan, Korea, Japan... The annoying muffled cars racing down my street because it is fun, their turbine exhaustions let off like farts would in drunken manly farting competitions. Vroooom-psst. Vrooom-psst. Vrooom-psst. I cannot recall hearing these little fizzes last year. Have I gotten more sensitively alert.

But this morning. My housemate was out earlier than my waking hour. The construction outside has stopped, the men merely sitting around chitchatting in their glow-in-the-dark(-and-day) uniforms. The cars drive past the main road in an under-radar buzz. It was just this intangible peace lingering.

There is something peculiarly quiet about today's Monday. Yes, it is indeed a Monday.

Have you seen...

"Lose it? I didn't lose it. It's not like, "Whoops! Where'd my job go?" I QUIT. Someone pass me the asparagus." - Lester Burnham

 

The Faculty
Who would have thought of selling drugs in pen cases? I mean. It is a good camouflage - Hey , wanna buy a pen for your exam? - and it is fucking convenient. You just unscrew the cap and take a big sniff.

You probably saw it coming. Perhaps it is some reverse psychology thing: the production team knows everyone will suspect the new kid in town is the cause of all the hoo-haa, so they might as well just lay in on the table and say "No, it is not me". But then, it is her. But. But. You said. Hah. Never believe a writer.

It is one of those movies that brought together the few biggest stars in current times. Robert Patrick (as Coach Joe Willis). Salma Hayek (as Nurse Rosa Harper). Famke Janssen (as Elizabeth Burke). Clea Duvall (as Stokely). Josh Hartnett (as Zeke). Elijah Wood (as Casey). Oh look, Jon Stewart (as Prof Edward Furlong). And what the heck is Usher doing in there?

American Beauty
I am familiar with Peter Gallagher (as Buddy Kane) the most as Sandy Cohen in The OC. It is refreshing to see him with white hair and a loss of cheery chirpy Cohen-ness.

Parents should stop hiding their secrets because the children can just see right through you. Whether you are a homophobic gay (yes, this is intended) marine officer or a horny father who jacks off to his daughter's hot friend.

Barbara Fitts (Allison Janney) is one character that got to me. A mind lost due to old age, but yet exchanged with a peace of mind away from the problems the people around her faced. When her son, Ricky (Wes Bentley) said goodbye to her after having an argument with his dad that resulted in him being kicked out, the mother did not try to hold him back but merely said "Don't forget your raincoat" - for it was raining outside - and leaned her face forward when he gave her a peck on the cheek. I guess it was self-explanatory.

DVD rentals: QuickFlix

The places you've come to hate the most

"Each town it seems the same, my dear." - Pilate

 

When a place grows sour,
You can recognise the same car driving past your house at midnight, without looking out the window.
You run out of things to talk about with the friends you go out with every night.
You step into a posher restaurant because street stall cuisines have grown stale on your tongue.
And everything is not enough.

When a place grows sour,
You look for a better place.
A greener grass.
A prettier day.
A quieter house.
Another town.
Not this town.

When a place grows sour,
You wish you had never left the place you once grew to loathe.
You start missing the midnight car.
You start missing the friends you had so much to talk about that one day you just ran out of things to talk about.
You start missing the stalls serving unhygienic food that made you bound to the toilet for hours.
Days.

When a place grows sour,
And you have made plans to find a sweeter abode,
Something will happen and make you want to stay in the same sodding place.
Even though you have spent years lamenting its short comings.
You got a promotion with a better salary.
You got better political stance.
You found the person you thought you should find on the other side.
Shit.
Now what.

When a place grows sour,
It happens when you step foot on new grounds.
Because the promised land you promised yourself a better life with, is a broken one.
A place will always be sour.
Near or far.
Looking forward or behind.
Because whenever you are ready to say goodbye, you would wish you never had to say hello.
Because whenever you are ready to leave, you would have one more reason to make you stay.
Then only you would realise when it is too late that all along it has been enough.

Runaway in circles

There was a 6AM jog my Eskimo friend would not believe in. "Fuck off," he said. "I'd rather believe in a sinning jester." Alas. I managed to drag my frail form out of the cozy bed out into the crispy air. The sun was brand new. The newborn autumn chill biting my bare legs. Josh Kelley walked me to the deserted Kulgun Park. I jogged and walked alternatively. I wished I was healthier than a fail attempted weekly morning jog. I have been back in Brisbane for almost six weeks and it was only my second time. But I needed the run, you see. I have so many problems to run away from. I used to solve them all with the mighty tip of my pen. Unfortunately, somewhere along the line, the tip broke because my problems have became too much for my writing to handle. So. I decided to runaway from them all. Alas. It is not that simple. But at least I return home with a tired physique, and my mind had nothing more to worry about but to rest my lethargic body well enough. I did not sweat enough to shower. It did not matter. It was a lonely bed.