Friday, December 31, 2004

Rejoice, O young man, in thy youth; and let thy heart cheer thee in the days of thy youth, and walk in the ways of thine heart, and in the sight of thine eyes; but know thou, that for all these things God will bring thee to judgment

Ecclesiastes 11:9, King James Version

Tuesday, December 28, 2004

Ode to Me

Perpetual drumbeats of a heart
Loneliness creeping in slowly
Worming in and not letting go
Like cancer
Fatalistic to the very core

The cheer outside seems foreign to me
Deaf to their laughter and joy
I have Sorrow as my bedmate
Anger as my companion
And Angst as my brother-in-arms

They dance and drink
While my heart burns
With anger and yearns
For bloodshed to appease
My bloodlust needs a feast

I am gone
Beyond salvation and all hope
Emptiness is me
Holding a shield of Fear
And a sword of Anger

Seeking to banquish all
That is good




Monday, December 27, 2004

Dance of The Red

Dance of the red
Against the pretty pale white
Look above you
The snow is falling
And so is your blood

I love you yes I do
Til my heart aches and screams
Underneath the mistletoe
I first saw you
All clothed in black
My dear pussy cat

Ah yes I do love you
My fair maiden of the darkness
To you I giveth my heart
Surrender my soul too if need be

Do you feel it pumping for you
Beating so softly ever in your tender hands
My heart is with you

Oh what a foul betrayal then!
What have you done to me?
To twist my heart into pieces
I see in it a thousand reflections
Of my Self
In a thousand hundred shards

I lose my Self in those reflections
What am I without and within?

In the Dance of the Red I was
Caught up in the Redness/madness
Engulfed me and I became Another

My senses took leave of me
And fled for another vessel
I could remember the look
Of horror in the windows of your Soul
Like something gone awry

Did you feel the pain
The searing hot feeling of the blade
And how orifice after orifice opened up
Gaping holes of darkness

Dance with me for the last time ma cherie
Upon this I pledge my soul
As the final melody ends

You can go to Hell for all I care
And rot in its eternal damnation
With weasels and worms
And may fire burn your very soul
As it burns mine now






Saturday, December 25, 2004

Letter #14-Albeo

Now now what can I say? The moment I heaved away the blankets of Light, for another new beginning of the Night, what shall I see but white cheer everywhere? It drags painfully upon my vampiric heart to see such good spirits around. Perhaps not my humane one though.
I have nothing much to say, nothing much to say today. It is simply too cheerful for me to stand it. Have you even flipped the papers today? They have four stories of Christmas cheer by four youths and they say it's promising! The gall of them to claim so! Spreading cheer when none is needed. Such a cliche...of what? Camaderie? Goodwill? Tis for the nth time that I am hearing it. Even a mortal will be repulsed in his ever so short lifespan, not to mention me. Could you humans please please, I beg of you, leave us alone with all your cliches and whatnots. Stop your false pretense of positivity. Drop your cloak of shadows, you shapeshifters. Reveal your true self if you dare you bunch of spineless and headless hypocrites.
'Tis a time to indulge in an excess of sins and obession.
A blurry white Christmas marred with red and black.
Not festivity red. Not party black.
But.
Darkness.
And blood.
Lots of it.
Yours truly
Aristocrat

Friday, December 24, 2004

Letter #13-Abnocto

It has been a very long night for me, as I lie about in the enclosed haven of darkness, she swallowing every morsel of light, leaving me in a comforting daze, akin to the mortals of imbibing alcohol and getting high. Events of that night ran through my celebral organ, flashing past with an incoherent speed that I could not even catch. Perhaps it was due to the influence of alcohol too.
As much as an immortal hates to admit his mortal faults and trangressions, no matter how egregious, I have to confess to a priest perhaps, to accept Communion, that I have participated in the mortal practices of imbibing alcohol beyond one's point of tolerance.
I met my friend that I haven't seen in quite a long while, at least a few moons, and we went to Attica, for he works there as a bartender. After that, we went to my workplace to get a few bites and drinks. After that, off to Forbidden City we flew, indulging in excesses over there. The next destination on the iternary was Chinablack, an egregiously and hermeutically disappointing place. Never shalt thou stepeth inside ye place everth again! So to Devils Bar we went to instead, indulging in a few more drinks that finally took us over the edge and beyond into the Milky Way, floating above the heavens, and looking with detachment at the earthly events that were happening below us. What amusement!
As the fiery sun always sets and all good things must come to an end, so did it. In the end, the imbibed contents brought forth a bout of prescience in me, with such violent repercussions that I had swore never to go through it again. Yet it did. And in my dreams I saw, I saw my future, where there was no salvation. Where there was this little girl, not so little yet not an adult either. She was a Adult Child. So tempting yet so sinful. I really did see this girl with clarity. She was with her friend, and I remembered the consequences were dreadful. In my dreams, there was happiness in the beginning, happiness I could not remember it ever existed. But something went wrong. Terribly wrong. And I don't know what. What did the dream prophesised? What was it trying to tell me? I have no idea. I have never been a Dream Reader. And who in the burning Hell and Heaven would have a Name called Twink? This plagues me endlessly...
Dreams, what are they? Are they the exact mirrors of Reality as what some said, as what some of the Old Ones believed? If they are, this is to be a bad omen indeed, and I fear, I fear for something which I don't even know. I am rambling again I see. It is still too early to do anything fruitful, too early for us to rise. There is nothing I can do now, but to retire to the silky comforts of my haven, of my nest, and think upon what is the next move, which pawn shall be moved.
Yours truly
Aristocrat

Wednesday, December 22, 2004

Letter #12-Caelestis

My dear, what happened to you? Why are you looking so bored to tears? Let me tell you a wonderful happening that occured today. Today, I woke up earlier than usual, not like my usual waking times as a Child of the Night. Today I saw the sunset in its full crowning glory. Like a fiery fireball it illuminated the vast heavens with a violet shimmer, as though Christ himself was coming and the Great Tribulation was starting. I had never saw the sunset since that fateful day of my Making. Today, I don't know what came over me, but I was compelled by some unseen force, some preternatural strength, to open my eyelids and throw the thick curtains to one side.
And I had never seen such a beautiful scene before my eyes during the expanse of my mortal life. The mere sight of it brought such tears to my eyes. Take the normal sunsets you mortals see over the horizon. Now place it in the most beautiful place you have ever been to. And multiply that by ten, no a hundred times. And you will get an idea of what I am seeing.
Sometimes, I don't really know what I am rambling. Forgive me, but you can stop looking for the morning me. He's not here anymore. I have taken over completely. At least for this current period of time, til the next moon wax and wanes, I shall remain in the pilot seat.
Have you taken a look at your Bible recently? I am getting very theological recently, and it is completely baffling my wits as to why this is happening. I am a Child of The Night after all. Why would God embrace darkness into his arms? Do we have Salvation even as the mortals have it? Even as Salvation is right in front of them, they push away the hand that tries to feed them. And some even bites it. Why? Do they not see the Heavenly Light that is above them? That judgement is upon them soon?
Why is this happening? I have learnt that there is a reason for everything. God always meant for something to happen. Cause and Effect. If I am becoming religious, what is the reason? Am I meant to spread the Word among my kindred of darkness, my Coven of Love?
And I quote:
"My days have passed away, my
thoughts are dissipated, tormenting
my heart.
They have turned night into day,
and after darkness I hope for light
again.
If I wait hell is my house, and I have
made my bed in darkness.
I have said to rottenness: thou art
my father; to worms, my mother and
my sister.Where is now then my expectation,
and who considereth my patience?
All that I have shall go down into
the deepest pit: thinkest thou that there
at least I shall have rest?"
Job 17:11-16 dv.
Yours truly
Aristocrat

Tuesday, December 21, 2004

Letter #11-Maneo Manere Mansi Mansum Intransit

Insofar as I know, I love the night. I always do. The cloak of darkness shrouding all in secrecy, revealing nothing without the presence of light. The cool whispers of the night breeze caressing your cheeks like a forgotten lover. The eerie glow of the night lights juxtaposed against the depth of the darkness, always trying to drive away the darkness but failing to. It is just so beautiful, so appealing and erotic to the lost soul.
My dear reader. do you follow your dreams and your passion? Or are you like the headless bunch of people out there following the herd like lemmings? Heading towards certain death...Do you have the mental courage and strength to follow and pursue your dreams? Some do, some don't. Perhaps I may belong to the latter, but then please forgive me for there is no lack of trying.
I have thoughts, random noises from the white noise, to quit studying and to take up my passion. But as I am clearheaded and not under the influence of certain liquids, I desist. Must I follow the path of everyone? Can't I not take the Road Less Taken?
Yours truly
Aristocrat

Monday, December 20, 2004

Letter #10

The sun always sets. I would like to point out now that I am very contented where I am now, doing my job and all, staying until 4 am in the morning chatting with people I would like to call my friends instead of colleagues. "Colleagues" is such a cold and clinical term. However, happiness always has to end somewhere. In a short period of time, all this is going to end.
Darkness always prevails upon this material world, testing upon the limits of every mortal being, giving the truer measure of the dark pink organ that pumps copper red blood to every individual crevice of your body.
Do realise that if you find a job that is your passion, you will never ever look upon it as a job at all but as a passionate hobby. You will never dread going to work, for that word will cease to exist. Everything will be enjoyable for you. Just like what I am doing now. However, sad to say, this will never be a full time job for me. This papier mache world is too materialistic for such a job to be sustainable. That's is why you see a lot of PRs in the service industry. Converting the Sing dollar back to their exchange rate is very profitable.
The transcience of the world. Like cherry blossoms against the dark black boughs of Tokyo. One moment there blooming like wildfire. The next dead as the bitterness of the winter.
I believe he is all but back. Who is the one talking now? The sane or the insane? To the insane, the sane are the insane. So which comes first?
Yours truly
Aristocrat

Sunday, December 19, 2004

Letter #9

I have just returned home to my creature comforts, lazing on my chair in front of my laptop hammering away listening to the internet radio of some techno-dance mix. Very interesting. And very tired too.
I was despatched for catering service today at the Mexican Ambassador's house. It was his Christmas party, for friends or colleagues, I have absolutely no idea. Yes sir, we do catering service if you desire. Bartenders included. With chefs and waiters too. I have some ugly things that I want to say about the event, but that would be nearing defamation, and I'm not so out of my head to do that as my other persona. Suffice to say, all the staff there weren't exactly jumping with Christmas joy and spreading the cheer.
I can see the clock's hands ticking closer and closer to six. It is time for me to sleep I guess. If not, I will be like a zombie tomorrow, which is no different from me being a ghoul everyday.

Saturday, December 18, 2004

Contentedness

Snow swirling down drops of white against the black sky
Falling so slowly like in the stasis of time
On the outstretched pink tongue of mine
A cold sensation runs through my celebral organ

Images flooded the sensory perceptors
Of spring summer and autumn
Memories of love and hate
Of past better forgotten
Of things that were not meant to be

I see her dancing happily on the ice lake
With another face that I couldn't see
Veiled in a glossammer of darkness
Much to my chargin
While I'm still caught up in the throes
Melancholy and despair rings like a true bell

Given a chance perhaps
All this was for the best
But somehow one couldn't resist thinking
Of what could be but it would be forcing
The north and south to come together

As the snow gently caresses my face
And the melodies of carolling in the far distance city lights
Washes over me with a calm like morhphine

I am content
To lie in the white
And let the whiteness comfort me
And snuggle in its comfort

Letter #8

Forgive the lateness in posting. I had been too tired when I reached the safe haven of my own home and too engrossed in reading. My mind wasn't simply set up to delve into the intricacies of the internet.
CI is full of fun-loving and friendly people, like all my managers and colleagues. They are just like my friends. We could joke and fool around with each other. But with the managers, sometimes when it's work, it's work, no fooling around guys...
My colleagues? They vary from age to age. There are poly students, like these two guys and two babes that just joined us recently. And some others. Then there is the other polarity, like J and H. J is married with two kids and well, for H, I'm not that sure. But on a whole, the CI staff kick ass for sure!
I was working as a full time bartender in CI til recently. Let me show you the pictures of CI when I have the time. Perhaps there will be a photo blog? That was when I was waiting for university to start. Now that it has started, I have converted into a part-timer like most of the people there. The pay is not very attractive as a whole, but the tipping there is good. It is even better at our sister restaurant, Brewerkz. I heard that the most tips one person got there was four hundred and fifty bucks a day. That's like freaking half a month's salary to me!!
Talking about tipping, I guess Singaporeans have to be enlightened about tipping. Forget about the service charge. The waiters and waitresses normally don't receive the ten percent service charge you heard about. Yes, it was implemented to eliminate tipping, but its an unspoken truth that the frontline staff don't get it. Yes, we don't get it too, so don't be too surprised. I have heard that in some restaurants, the service charge goes into the insurance or the salaries of the waiters. Come on, it is supposed to be an extra incentive for the person right? Truth be told, if tipping is practised, well, Singaporeans would receive a helluva service. We look upon it as a reward for good service. Tip us if we serve you well. Don't tip if we didn't. If tipping wasn't practised, we wouldn't have that much incentive to give you good service anymore right? Like today, I think this table received near to excellent service from us. Another colleague and me served this table of around twenty persons. They spent more than two thousand bucks. I'm not boasting, but I think we really provided good service. And we were rewarded for it. Fifty bucks in tips for us. See? There's the motivation.
Sad to say, most Singaporeans don't tip. Those who tip are usually the people that have had worked in the food and beverage industry or as waitering before. And how many Singaporeans have done that? Not a lot I think...
Back to track, as I'm now working as a part-timer, I double-up in my roles, sometimes as a bartender sometimes as a waiter. I'm proud to say that I can multi-task quite well.
As far as I could recall, Abbas fell sick today. So well, I was left with another guy to work with. This guy is a little of the bats I think. Makes a good friend, but not as a working partner. He's not that reliable.If you know what I mean. The day's sales was quite poor. There was simply no crowd today and by the witching hour, there were only a handful of people left relatively. Don't know what happened. Perhaps all decided to go clubbing.

Friday, December 17, 2004

Letter #7

Did you see the two previous poems that were posted? I feel a sense of foreboding. He is coming back into my life, slowly but surely. At times, I would lose track of all sense and time. By the time I come to my senses, hours would have already past. And during that period, I couldn't even recall what I had done! Enough of rambling, I have to go on before the resurgence of the necrophiliatic comes back.
Anyway, back to the story. I had finished my national service stint and was looking for a job. This pub hired my friend and I. It wasn't my first choice. I clearly remembered being hired as a bartender. In the end, I became like the barback, doing soap cocktails and all instead of the proper things. The guy clearly don't like teaching me the hang of things there. In that place, only a few people were friendly enough to us. There were also a lot of bootlicking happening. And it absolutely disgusted me. Bottomline is, me and my friend did not stay there for long. We got a call from CI, which was only three doors down, not including the fountain of course, saying that we were to go for the interviews tomorrow. Needless to say, we got the jobs and were told to start next week. However, my friend did not want to work at CI in the end so I was left all alone.
The job there was terrific I think. At the very beginning, I thought I was in for shit again as I was asked to carry this and carry that. But well, at least I got to work in the bar. The people there are one hell of a nice bunch of people.
My so-called upperstudy, Peter, was terrific, teaching me this and that. In a few weeks, I had gotten the hang of things. Peter was a very teacher to me despite our age difference. he taught me a lot of the things I know now. And I'm still learning. It's a neverending process I think. Did you know we had more than 150 types of tequila in our bar? Mindblowing isn't it? Now we have only around 80 types left according to Abbas. Abbas is the so-called senior bartender in the cafe for I think he has the most experience. His regular pool of customers is so strong that he can receive a lot of tips in a day. I found out that I was hired to replace him for the time being since he was in India getting married. He's a very very nice person too. Friendly and outgoing. I could go on and on about all the people in the cafe....And I think I should....

Thursday, December 16, 2004

Queen of Hearts

I look down and see
A spot of red
And feel my heart
Is no longer beating but then
Why am I still alive?

Everything has changed and progressed
I alone have stagnated in a pond
Of turd and duckweed
Leaving me in the wake
Why am I still alive?

Better off dead to join
Them released from the pain of life
And from the chains of bitches
Double crossing mirrors
One tells you left one tells you right

Dance around the fire
And laugh at them humans
Their misery and pain
And see them kill each other
Come join the gathering
Where the night never ends
Light comes from the absence of darkness

Wednesday, December 15, 2004

Funeral March


I was standing at my window when
A black limousine pulled up
Into the driveway amidst the pouring rain
For the funeral that was being held
Prayers on the lips of everyone
A mask of unfeeling on their faces

The violinist stood there in the rain
Without shelter clothed in red
A sore eye among the normal black
Pulled his strings of sorrow
And danced the crowd to his tune
Puppets on a string

The unseen choir in the corner
Singing melodies of an ominous tune
Looks of glee in their eyes
As I stood and watched

It seems all clear to me
When the pallbearers marched past
Like clockwork soldiers
Because I saw what was inside
Was my very own heart


Monday, December 13, 2004

Letter # 6

Well, to sum that up, nothing came out of it. Except that my character probably had changed one way or another. For the better? I'm not so sure. Instead of being an introvert, I was gradually changing into an extrovert. Not much, but slowly inching my way there. Over the course of time, there was a few people that did not like the change and protested vehemently. There were more than a few arguments because of that.

After I quit work at that pool bar, I went back to my studies. Cliche as it is, time really flew very fast. In no time, I was a soldier. It was quite an enjoyable two years and four months of my life. I really learnt a lot from that phase. From boys to men, they said. Certainly, it held true for me. I began to notice changes in those people in NS too. They began to be less conscious of their looks and dressing, perhaps because there were no babes around to dress for. There was also a certain sense of maturity in their behaviour. It's very easy to differentiate people that had completed their NS from those who haven't. In short, it's good for all guys to go through NS once in a life. But if you ask me, I wouldn't want to go through it again. Once is enough.

After I came out of national service early (Mindef shortened the timespan from two and a half years to two years four months for our batch), I began looking for work. Somewhere along my old line will do. And so I began to scout around. My old workplace wasn't hiring, and besides, my manager there had been sacked. So I had no more contacts in that place anymore. My friend and I went scouring the advertisments together, from restaurants to pubs. I was very sure I wanted to go back and work as a bartender or if not as a waiter. But my friend had no experience and it was kinda hard for us to look for bartending jobs together. The same goes for waitering. I had no prior experience as a waiter while he had. In the end, we managed to find two vacanies at Clarke Quay at a pub. No, it was not the one I was working for. This pub looked sleazy from the outside. When we first stepped into it in the late afternoon, there were people with tattoos playing pool there. The guys absolutely looked like the stereotypical bookies to me.

Saturday, December 11, 2004

Letter # 5

She accepted my offer after work. So I took the same bus with her home. She was quite a cute girl in her own way. Not stunningly beautiful or anything, but she had her own attractiveness.
After work, if we were on the same shift, I would send her home. I always sent her straight to her door despite her protests. After all, I thought that since I already sent her halfway, why not go all the way? And to me, it wasn't too nice to let a girl go home in the dead of the night. Who knows what lies on the way from the lift to the house?
Well, to say that during this time I did not develop any feelings would be lying. Somehow, one way or another, I began to like her. And perhaps see her as a possible girlfriend. But I did not know how she feel. That was the problem.
Bit by bit, I began to sound her out. Dropped her little hints here and there. The results were entirely disappointing. She saw me only as a friend. She even told me that I would make a very good boyfriend. Everyone said I was sweet. But sweet guys always suffer the short end of the stick. In the end, I began to retreat safely without letting her know that I was ever interested in her. After some time, I stopped working at that place as my school term was starting. In the beginning, we still maintained contact. Gradually, even that began to fade into nothingness, back into the void of darkness. Soon, we never even messaged anymore. However, there was once she called me and left me a voice mail. During that time, I was in the army and had absolutely no time to pick up any calls until the late of the night when our missions had ended. That instance left me wondering what did she called for after so long.

Tuesday, December 07, 2004

Letter #4

Her name was Gywnne. For the first few weeks, I had to teach her everything I know, because by that time, one of the seniors had left. He was late for work for so many times that he was fired, or so I heard. And pretty soon, the other senior was leaving too. She was going to get married in Malaysia. Teaching Gywnne was pretty fun, and it helps that she was pretty too! The butch kind of got onto very friendly terms with her, which I viewed with some skceptism I think.

Day by day, I got to know Gywnne better. Similarly, she was on vacation and was working during her holidays. One night, while we were working together at night, I asked her how did she make her way home.

"Darling, how did you make your way home? By bus?"

"Yup!" She replied cheerfully.

"Speaking of going home gives me the creeps though."

"Why? What's wrong with that?"

"Well, it's nothing. But it's just that when I go home, there is always this bunch of Banglas around the void deck. And they look at me like they want to swallow me!"

"Hmm, in that case, how about I send you home later? Since I have extra time to spare anyway..."

"Are you sure that's fine, Raf? I don't want to bother you."

"It's on the way darling, no problem at all. I have a direct bus to home from there too."

When I offered my escort service, I don't know whether I was going to regret it or not. Luckily, things didn't turn out as bad.

Sunday, December 05, 2004

Letter #3

Especially when you work in the morning shift. First thing when you come, you have to open up the whole place, collect the float and start cleaning all the crap that the night shift people left behind. And when people order food from you, you got to go down the stairs into the kitchen to prepare the orders, which means leaving the bar unattended. So when you finished preparing the food and went up the stairs to the bar, you would normally find a few customers waiting for someone to serve them. That's me. And I'm serving someone else.
Most of the time, two or three persons would come and take over the afternoon shift. Sometimes there would be a lot of customers, sometimes not. We could be so free that we would be chatting around, testing some cocktails, or so busy that we had to run here and there. It all depends on the flights coming in at that moment. Soon after I joined, two colleagues that I had never seen before quit the job, leaving three of us on the job. To say the least, we were a bit shorthanded. The learning curve was pretty gentle to me but I had to learn quick. I had heard that my two seniors had intentions to quit also.
So one new guy was brought in. He was quite a burly and pale fellow. I cannot remember much of him, except that he was way too nice I think, and easily taken advantage of by other people. Or so I believed. He was shorter than me and bespectacled. The onus fell onto me to teach him the ropes though I was on the job for less than 3 months. Well, God willing that he was willing to learn and I was willing to teach. It made it easier and in lesser time than expected, we had another capable employee on the roster, making our lives easier without customers breathing fire down your neck everytime. However, the upper management had balls for brains, and he was soon transferred to another side of the airport where there was an Indian restaurant there. It was short-staffed too and apparently, they need him more than we need him. So there he went, wasting time and effort. Sometimes, he did drop by with some Indian food. We all thought that was mighty nice of him.
In between that period before he got transferred to the Indian restaurant, two more new staff came to join us. One was a butch, which I thjink I'll reserve my comments. I have nothing good to say about them, except that the first thought that came to mind was "Mother Nature gone awry." Yeah, I sounded like a conservative right? But go and think about it. We guys serve national service. We went through hardship and God knows what else. And you butches went through what? Huh? Louder? Binding your breasts so that you look like a guy? Oh, anything else? Try serving in the army for God's sake. Then call yourself a guy. If not, don't bother. It totally turns me off.
The other new staff looked promising at least. She was qualified to turn heads. Really, believe me, whenever she walked past the transit hotel reception, heads would turn. She's not hot, but pretty cute I think. And well, it was comforting to know she was gonna be my colleague. At least I won't be bored.

Saturday, December 04, 2004

Letter #2

The major turning point came in my life during my Year One holidays. I applied for a job as a bartender in the airport. Without any experience, I wasn't very sure that I would get the job. Who would want to hire a nobody for a bartender? My manager did.

For sure I didn't regret taking on the job. The bar was open-air and it was situated in the transit lounge, which means there's security and you need a pass to get in. I felt very important at that moment, like I was laughing at the rest of the people who couldn't get into the transit lounge at all. The job was quite a novelty to me. Within a few weeks, I managed to pick up the ropes from my seniors. There were only two of them.

Our bar was just a small bar by the poolside at the transit hotel. It served some food, basically snacks like sandwiches and burgers and drinks. From there, I learnt how to cook up some snacks using the grill and mix drinks. The burger there was terrific. The beef patty was so thick and juicy, my I tell you, it was worth your every dollar. When it sizzled on the grill, you could smell the juices from miles away. Plus the melted chess and sometimes the extra egg, whoa, it's one good meal. Sometimes, I did make for myself some burgers, of course without letting my bar manager know of course! As for the drinks, well, that was the part I like most. The usual orders were Singapore Slings and Pina Coladas, which the customers liked best. Others that were not ordered so often but popped up every now and then were like the Black Russian, the martini and stuff like that. Sometimes there were weird orders like the Purple Rain, which I had to refer to the cocktail recipe.

We worked two shifts, one in the morning from seven to four and another in the afternoon from three to eleven. Usually, when you work in the morning, it is a solo shift, which means you run the whole show. From making the food to mixing the drinks to washing the plates or collecting the dishes. Does that sound busy? It definitely does.

Friday, December 03, 2004

Letter #1

My name is Rafael. Everyone calls me Raffy around here. I'm just a nondescript guy, your typical average Joe. Nothing special about me. I have been averaging through out my whole life, since secondary school and junior college. Don't talk about primary school, it was a one off thing that I topped my class in Primary 5 and Primary 6. I'm not trying to show off about it, but well, I was kicked from the best class into the worst class. So what could one do? Secondary school? Yeah, I just about scrapped through everything.

And I went on the crooked path too. Even going onto the crooked path I was averaging too! Just about shoplifted from my school bookshop..nowhere else. In the end, some asshole sold us out to the disciplinary mistress. Luckily, we got away with only a warning, nothing much. But we never found out who was the guy who sold us out, though we had our suspicions. It remains a mystery to this day. Anyway, I managed to find my way back to the straight path with some help and left behind that group of friends for good. In the middle of that, some things happened. You could call it an awakening or what. But I began to ask myself what any teenager would ask himself. Or that's what I think. I began to ask myself stupid questions like what is life? Why is the sky blue? Yeah yeah, all that philosophical crap. I began to search for the purpose in life, until something took over that mission. Forgot what was it already. But during that age of hormonal surge, what could be more important than legs in skirts?

Anyway, that was in the past. To cut a long story short, basically I completed my O'Levels without any fanfare. Just the usual creeping around the bushes, snooping here and there and bingo! I'm over the finishing line! That was one major hurdle. Life was even worse for the next stage, the A'Levels. Practically boring for me....The major turning point came during my holidays....

Intro

As you can see, there is a dearth of creativity here. No longer do you see any writings of any form whatsover. This lack of creativity perhaps can be explained by the start of my bartending job again. It's killing all my brain cells I swear. To face customer after customer always wearing a smile on your face. How tiring can that be? You try it yourself then.

Then an idea came to me, to spin a story of a person, of a normal person perhaps. Normal to you? Maybe. Forgive me if it coincides with any live characters or whatsoever, for it's meant to be purely fiction....