i think i've lost something. wait. i know i've lost something. i think. the very thought that i've lost something and am still able to be fickle minded about whether i've actually lost it can release a paroxysm of frustration, fear, sorrow and disappointment. but i know what it is. it's not one of those things you lose, then have your kakak find it and place it on your study table the next day. i wish it was thou.
this thing that i think i've lost is somewhat precious to me. it's something so precious that i'm actually willing to spend the entire night looking for it. if only it wished to be found. it's vexing, this thing. it is.
it's kinda like a tennis match. you know how in the beginning you're so excited about the prospects of you actually winning the match that you every whack you take is coupled with a great enthusiasm. so let's say you bring a partner into the picture. so both of you are whacking the tennis ball, ever so enthusiastically i might add, that you don't realize the rain or the scorching Sun or that you're actually so dehydrated you could drink the whole of Tasik Kenyir. it takes a while for the both of you to realize that it's you've been playing this game for quite a while. but you still play it anyway.
after a while you get preoccupied with the other things that are going on in and around the tennis court. so you start playing half-heartedly. and your partner starts feeling irritated. but you don't realize it of course coz you're so wrapped up in you own little world and besides, he's whacking the ball back isn't he? so you continue self-indulging that you don't realize that the ball come's back weaker. a lot weaker. so you glance over to your partner and see that he's gotten so fed up he's merely letting the racket hit the ball so you don't have to play with yourself. and then he leaves the court. leaving you dumbfounded. why the hell did he leave the court? wat on earth did you bloody do? but your massive i-can't-fit-my-head-thru-the-door ego won't permit you to run after him. so you sit there alone. waiting for him to return and tell you he just went to the toilet for a while. but he doesn't. you start whinging and whining until you see him enter another court. and all you can do is look. and feel sad. there're countless times where you wanted to scream "u punani, come back and play with me la" right across the court. but above mentioned ego doesn't permit remember? actually, your partner's ego's pretty much the same size as yours too. but he'll never admit it. just like you'll never admit how massive your ego is either.
it's kinda like the game Preston talked about in Grey's. two kids play and you run around and try to catch the other kid. once you've caught the other kid, you kinda wring his hands behind his back until he cries "uncle". then you've won!
to the above mentioned "partner" who i don't think will figure the whole thing out and what it's about: i'm not ready to cry "uncle".
Soundtrack : The Research - lonely hearts still beat the same.
Becky
Labels: emo
