I think it looks nicer and would be a better read if I were to put everything together and upload them as pdf files. Blog posts were not meant to be so lengthy.
So, in reading order:
1. Nervous
2. Messages
3. Point of no return.
Anyway this is just a small project on my part to make myself articulate again, not so much of to lament whatever that came out of that particular interaction with a certain individual :)
I've not written anything proper for a long time and it was most fun to work on creating this story. Wrong, to narrate this story. I tried my best to keep it as accurate and as authentic as possible in terms of events and the feelings of Bertie. Everything that was written was through Bertie's eyes and whatever it was that he felt. Clara was not consulted at all and hence, nothing written with regards to her. This story is not meant to portray anyone negatively. I did practise censorship when whatever it was that i wrote made someone else sound bad. I went through this story a gazillion times and I deem it neutral, if not, somewhat friendly.
I do think this is a fun read.
:)
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Point of no return
Bertie woke up. It was IPPT day and he was anxious. He started preparing. “Calm down, you’re going to do just fine.” Bertie whispered to himself. He went to wash up, and had his breakfast of granola bars and red bull (gives you wiiings). He had to have all the energy he needed. He kept shifting his thoughts to what he was about to embark on, rather than to let it slide to what ever happened last night. Bertie went over the stations in his head, making mental notes of what he should do, what he should watch out for. But there was a certain heaviness in his heart. Bertie made himself think positive but he still could not shake it off.
Bertie cleared all the stations, with results good enough for gold. All that was left was the run now. He had to complete 2.4KM with timing of 9min44sec or below. It was difficult, it was tough. Bertie had to prove that he was tougher and stronger than this.
…3, 2, 1 and the runners were flagged off. Bertie was one of the first few, but not the first. He understood his body and knew he was doing well at his current pace. He was 5th at the time the run started. Bertie ran and it got painful, the healthy kind of pain that comes when you’re getting out of breath. It was so much like a fight. After the first KM, his legs were telling him to stop but his mind said to press on. Usually when runs get real painful, Bertie will always zone out for a second. For that split moment, Bertie will make some weird promise to no particular omnipresent being: If I don’t stop running, and continue to run as hard, I will get …..” Everyone knew what it was that he wanted.
Bertie did get Gold in the end. It was a most painful ordeal. Bertie did feel good for a while but the fact that he wasn’t going to any party the next day did cast a shadow over him. A very huge one. It was a very strange thing for to get IPPT gold, Bertie invested time and energy to work out and to keep fit months beforehand. Now that his hard work came to fruition, he should be nothing less than euphoric. There was this group of friends that concluded Bertie was one easy guy to please. To get the results he wanted after all the hard work, Bertie should have partied on the spot or something. He should at least be smiling. But no, Bertie looked somewhat dejected to say the least.
Bertie went back to an empty room and went to wash up. He laid on his bed and texted Clara:
Bertie – Hey man, I’m sorry if I behaved like a baby last night. I was really disappointed though I know I shouldn’t be. After all, it’s your friend’s birthday, and I thought too much… Anyway, I GOT GOLD FOR IPPT!
Clara – Heyyy, don’t have to apologize, not your fault. Or you can get your friends to go Clark Quay on Saturday too? Don’t want you to feel left out cause there’ll be quite a number of us there. Yeah… That’s good, you must be damn, damn happy right? Ha-ha.
Bertie – Nah, not that happy, more of tiring…
Bertie was really not happy. He really wanted to go to that party. And he started texting the rest of his mates if they wanted to go to Clark Quay the next day.
Bertie did mention something about the gift he made and he was set to meet Clara the following day.
Bertie went home and had a pretty lame Friday night. He was off to a friend’s birthday party but he did not enjoy himself one bit. He was such a zombie, moping around, lamenting to himself why he was suddenly uninvited. He was “the saddest bitch ever on a Friday”. As what his Facebook’s status said.
As much as Bertie hated that feeling, he could somewhat sense that he and Clara was getting distant. The messages seemed cooler, or even aloof, as I would say.
Saturday came, and Bertie was on a mission: to make a card for Phoebe. He told Clara he made something for Phoebe already and he could definitely not go back on his word. He woke up especially early because he knew he was slow and needed time to produce something of quality. Bertie was such a girl. He fretted over the lack of coloring materials, that there wasn’t any quality paper to make cards with and that he did not know how the card should look like. Bertie is not exactly someone you call creative and he needs all the inspiration he can get through sights and sounds before developing an idea. After much hair-pulling on possible ways to do up the card, he got off his chair and headed to the nearest Popular store to get materials. For the first time in his life, Bertie spent so much effort on Art & Craft. It was his least favourite subject from Primary School through Secondary school and couldn’t give so much of a damn even when it came to decorating his class notice board. It just wasn’t his kind of thing, he asserted.
Bertie had a hard time making the card. Scissors weren’t his favourite stationery and somehow when everything was done up with glue, it just did not look like how it should have been in Bertie’s head. Bertie is a perfectionist when it comes to his personal endeavors and though it did not turn out as nice as he thought it would be, it was still a beautiful birthday card. It was outstandingly well done. Anyone can see that tons of effort went into it. Bertie had not made a birthday card in a very long time and even he thought it looked not too bad. He was proud of his work and he was sure Phoebe would like it. And hopefully, with a wee bit of luck, Clara will like him a little bit more.
There wasn’t much of a Saturday afternoon left when the birthday card was done. A lot of time was spent on the card but Bertie didn’t mind. While the sun set, Bertie was furiously trying to convince the rest of his friends to go Clark Quay that night.
No such luck. But he did convince this one friend though, Collin. So long as there’s company! Both of them were to be joining this other friend of theirs who was out with his camp mates. They were to be clubbing at Rebel that night. That was the last thing on Bertie’s mind. The only thing that was important to him was to see Clara. Bertie still wanted to talk to Clara and tell her whatever it was that he had planned to say. “Hopefully she’s receptive to me tonight!” Bertie was most optimistic.
Bertie got dressed. And for good luck’s sake, he wore this new top he bought recently. Looking fine and dandy Bertie was! Bertie almost forgot the card when he left house.
Just when he was about to leave, his intestines rumbled and he was sure he had a whirlpool in his stomach. He dashed for the toilet and had a tsunami of a vomiting. Very literally, Bertie was brought to his knees. It was a nasty sight. It was so bad, it … it was just plain bad. (Let’s not gross you out with the description of what happened).
Bertie was completely rattled. Must have been the crazy dinner his dad brought back from the workplace. Once he cleaned himself up, with 2 rounds of Listerine to disinfect his mouth, no less, Bertie went to his room, grabbed a scrape of left-over coloured paper from the making of Phoebe’s birthday card and penned a note to Clara with much urgency and ferocity. He wrote down whatever it was that he wanted to tell Clara. Bertie had not planned to do this but instinct told him to. Bertie never had such a strong hunch, and had never felt more compelled to pen his thoughts, his emotions, and his affection for someone. Bertie had never been more spontaneous and he poured his heart out onto that small piece of orange paper. It felt like the one thing he should do, it felt like right thing to do. Never was he more inspired.
It was a completely strange affair. Somehow after belching all those foul things he ingested, something went lose in his head. And like a breached dam wall, a lot of stuff came out. Surely this must be the work of some omnipresent being: Bertie was completely not being Bertie to be writing such things.
Okay, this note should be useful. I’ll slip it into her bag after telling her how I feel and it’ll make such a cute love letter. Bertie chuckled to himself. And just in case I forget to say some things, this should supplement! Bertie smiled. Tonight should be great!
“I Gotta Feeling” by the Black Eyed Peas was on loop in Bertie’s head on the bus. Bertie was upbeat.
Upon reaching Clark quay, Bertie and Collin went to Rebel to get tickets. 11.28pm, they got the $15 tickets, just in time with 2 minutes to spare. That must be a good sign! They then proceeded to find that friend of theirs who was with his NS mates. After chilling a little, Bertie was off to find Clara. Collin was real adorable; he went with Bertie to provide moral support! With the second reason being, just in case Bertie was given a proper invite, Collin would either get invited through Bertie or, he would go home if Phoebe’s friend weren’t keen on Collin joining. Whatever it was, Collin was being supportive.
Bertie walked briskly. He was most energetic and most eager to see Clara. After all, he concluded he liked Clara a lot. He was hopeful.
Bertie was at Social House in no time. Phoebe was going to be having her 19th birthday celebration here. Bertie sat on the concrete bank, looking out for Clara. His hands were cold, he was slightly nervous. He pretended to yawn: “Ok, my breath is fresh”. Bertie looked around, saw some pretty people and oddly, he wasn’t interested. He looked up and there Clara was, he hadn’t notice her as he thought that was just another group of people hanging outside the club. She was talking to someone and hadn’t notice Bertie too. Bertie stood up and was about to approach her when Bonnie popped out of nowhere and pulled him by the arm back to where he was.
“HEY BERTIE! Hi! Come over, we’re doing up this birthday card for Phoebe, and you’re gonna be writing in it! Come, come, we don’t want to ruin this surprise for Phoebe.” Bertie was stunned by the sudden appearance of Bonnie and her frenzy. It wasn’t until after half a second later that he regained his composure and comprehended what Bonnie was talking about.
“Alright, let’s get a picture of you in the card. Smile!” Bonnie whipped out a very familiar looking Polaroid camera and peered through the aperture.
“Ohhhhhhh! Ok!” Bertie gave a really wide grin with a double “V for victory sign”.
“Yay! Anyway, Clara’s over there.” Bonnie pointed to Clara. “Hey Clara, Bertie’s here!” She cheered. Clara gave a weak smile as she turned her head.
“Yeah, okay.” Bertie thanked Bonnie and approached Clara.
“Hey! Great to see you!” Bertie beamed.
“Hi.” Clara replied.
It was most discouraging for Clara did not make eye contact. She turned her head when she greeted Bertie and then continued to engage in that friend of hers, body away from Bertie.
“Can I talk to you for a bit?” Bertie asked.
“Yeah, give me a moment.” Clara said. She did not look at Bertie one bit.
Bertie felt his heart sank.
“Hi Bertie! I didn’t know you’d be coming! How nice of you!” Phoebe glowed. The Birthday girl did look pretty that night.
“Definitely! Came to pass this card to you. Happy Birthday! Anyway my friends are at Rebel at the moment.” Bertie handed Phoebe the card and gave a most happy smile as he wished the birthday girl.
Phoebe was somewhat amazed by the card Bertie gave. She had only seen him twice, and the first meeting was when she was high on alcohol. Phoebe thanked him and passed the card to Clara, who brought her handbag, for safe keeping before being whisked away by Bonnie to some other place while the rest of the gang of her friends continue to do up the card.
“Hey, can we talk for a bit?” Bertie asked Clara again.
“Yeah, I’ll be done soon, wait a while?” Clara replied. But still, she did not make eye contact with Bertie.
This time, Clara was talking to a random friend of hers who just walked up and started a conversation about the last time he went clubbing and how his friends were talking and laughing about it. Bertie could not have been more dejected. Clara completely deleted Bertie’s queue number from her computer.
Bertie turned to look at Bonnie. Bonnie was one busy girl. She seemed to know everyone there and was taking pictures and talking to everyone of them. Bertie caught Bonnie’s eyes and she introduced him to a particular Clarissa, Rachel and some other girl. Bertie gave a most polite smile when introduced.
Bertie could sense Clara glance at him while he was being introduced and while communicating with other people. Bertie had to show that he was cool, and did not turn to look at Clara. He wanted to show that his attention was elsewhere, and that it was not solely committed to Clara.
Clara continued to chat with other people. That guy she last talked to bailed and now, she was talking to some other person. How nice of her, Bertie thought. He felt so sour he could taste it.
Then, this real good friend of Bonnie came over and chatted up Bertie. Bonnie’s friend was a complete social animal and Bertie was completely comfortable talking to him. That and the fact that Bertie wanting to portray a completely confident and sociable image made Bertie open up more. Or, it was that swig of vodka he had before going over to Social House. It was completely impressive, Bertie’s people-skills, as he talked and communicated. For once he appeared smooth.
Bonnie asked Bertie to go over to the queue and get the tickets with the rest of the guy friends but he declined. “Nah, I can’t, until she agrees...” Bertie responded, looking over to Clara.
Clara turned to Bertie and gave a most puzzling disapproving look. It looked like a frown but there was something in her eyes that said “I want, but I can’t”. But the overall message Bertie gathered was that he shouldn’t be there. Clara couldn’t even bother looking at Bertie in the eyes the whole time he was there.
Bertie thought it was the thing about Clara not wanting Bertie to feel left out because the whole group there had never seen Bertie once in their lives. So he persisted.
Bertie was talking to Bonnie’s friend again and somehow the topic turned to how Bertie has yet to get the tickets. The party was about to start anytime.
“Well, I’m waiting for her. It completely depends on her if I can go or not. She doesn’t exactly want me here because she thinks I’ll be left out with all of you here, but I’m shameless when it comes to meeting new people.” Bertie asserted.
Everyone, including Clara, smiled and Bonnie laughed. That was comic relief to the strain between Clara and Bertie.
“Aiya, it’s okay! It’s just clubbing, she’ll let you come next time!” Bonnie’s friend consoled Bertie.
“Yeah, don’t worry, I’m strong. I’ll get over it.” Bertie quipped, and pretended to look most rueful.
Everyone laughed this time. Bertie had just established himself to be a humorous guy.
Clara was involved in that conversation, kind of. She stopped talking to her friend when Bertie was talking and now that he was done, when Bertie turned to look at her, Clara turned and approached some other person.
Clara made Bertie felt like such a pest.
Bertie grew hopeless. He supposed it was time to give up trying to talk to her.
Clara was still busy with her friend at the moment. Bertie stood around. It felt terrible to lose Clara’s attention. Bertie hated the feeling of losing. He wanted so very much to grab Clara by the elbow, take her to a quieter spot and tell her how he felt. He only needed that and the party can go screw itself. It was at that moment of despair and of Clara’s apparent ruthlessness that Bertie got over the fact that he wasn’t going to the party and to not be having time with Clara. The fact that he so wanted to be part of the party was to be able to tell Clara how he felt. Have a heart-to-heart talk for once. He really liked Clara and believed it was only right to tell her. After all, they were 20 year-olds who should be more than matured enough to take ownership of their feelings, Bertie thought. What could be so wrong to tell someone that you like her? It’s not like I’m even going to propose to make her my girlfriend, why can’t she give me a chance? Bertie was most baffled and traumatized.
Bertie looked at Clara’s handbag. Of the 3 exterior pockets, the right-most had its button undone. Bertie reached into his pocket, dug out the piece of note and tapped it into that pocket. He then buttoned the pocket, to give Clara the impression that he was helping her do up that button.
Bertie took a deep breath and sigh. He touched Clara’s elbow and asked in the most hopeful manner: “So not tonight?”
“Not tonight… I think you should join your friend at Rebel.” Clara replied. She looked at Bertie in the eye and then looked down. There was something about that gaze that was most puzzling. She did look crestfallen for a split second and there was almost an aura of guilt about that. The way she said it did not sound definite either. It was like she did not exactly want to chase Bertie away but had to for some unknown reason. Clara then forced a strained smile: that particular smile that are in those facebook photos of hers, the smile that was given while posing for pictures, the smile that reeked of superficiality. It was either to console Bertie that everything was fine or to tell everyone else that Bertie’s presence didn’t mean anything. Bertie could not decide, Bertie was paralyzed.
Those 2 words did more than enough damage to break his heart. It felt really bitter. No, it felt more than bitter for Bertie. Bertie was absolutely crushed. His mind was a complete blank; he did not even know what else to say. Everything that was in his mind just 15 minutes ago vanished and all that was in his head was to get out of the scene as quickly as possible.
“Okay, not tonight.” Bertie murmured. He almost choked for his throat turned really dry. For once he made eye contact with Clara that night. He looked at Clara and smiled for a split second longer than what people would have had. Bertie thought Clara did look kind of cute that night. Bertie then waved goodbye. He turned around and bid goodbye to Bonnie too.
“Bye Bonnie! See you soon!” In a tone so cheery, yet so plastic it was almost awkward.
Bertie then walked towards Rebel. He walked rather briskly and he did not turn back to look at Clara. His disappointment was manifest, if Clara was even paying attention; Bertie kept looking up into the sky, like how tearful men crane their neck to give the belief that they’re defiant, and that they will hold their head high, amidst holding back the tears. Bertie likewise, was like that. He almost felt like crying. But no, he wouldn’t shed those precious volumes of natural saline solution for something this petty. Bertie did not curse nor swear. He asked only “Why?”
It didn’t take long for Collin to appear and say “It’s ok, man.” to a most depressed Bertie.
Bertie cleared all the stations, with results good enough for gold. All that was left was the run now. He had to complete 2.4KM with timing of 9min44sec or below. It was difficult, it was tough. Bertie had to prove that he was tougher and stronger than this.
…3, 2, 1 and the runners were flagged off. Bertie was one of the first few, but not the first. He understood his body and knew he was doing well at his current pace. He was 5th at the time the run started. Bertie ran and it got painful, the healthy kind of pain that comes when you’re getting out of breath. It was so much like a fight. After the first KM, his legs were telling him to stop but his mind said to press on. Usually when runs get real painful, Bertie will always zone out for a second. For that split moment, Bertie will make some weird promise to no particular omnipresent being: If I don’t stop running, and continue to run as hard, I will get …..” Everyone knew what it was that he wanted.
Bertie did get Gold in the end. It was a most painful ordeal. Bertie did feel good for a while but the fact that he wasn’t going to any party the next day did cast a shadow over him. A very huge one. It was a very strange thing for to get IPPT gold, Bertie invested time and energy to work out and to keep fit months beforehand. Now that his hard work came to fruition, he should be nothing less than euphoric. There was this group of friends that concluded Bertie was one easy guy to please. To get the results he wanted after all the hard work, Bertie should have partied on the spot or something. He should at least be smiling. But no, Bertie looked somewhat dejected to say the least.
Bertie went back to an empty room and went to wash up. He laid on his bed and texted Clara:
Bertie – Hey man, I’m sorry if I behaved like a baby last night. I was really disappointed though I know I shouldn’t be. After all, it’s your friend’s birthday, and I thought too much… Anyway, I GOT GOLD FOR IPPT!
Clara – Heyyy, don’t have to apologize, not your fault. Or you can get your friends to go Clark Quay on Saturday too? Don’t want you to feel left out cause there’ll be quite a number of us there. Yeah… That’s good, you must be damn, damn happy right? Ha-ha.
Bertie – Nah, not that happy, more of tiring…
Bertie was really not happy. He really wanted to go to that party. And he started texting the rest of his mates if they wanted to go to Clark Quay the next day.
Bertie did mention something about the gift he made and he was set to meet Clara the following day.
Bertie went home and had a pretty lame Friday night. He was off to a friend’s birthday party but he did not enjoy himself one bit. He was such a zombie, moping around, lamenting to himself why he was suddenly uninvited. He was “the saddest bitch ever on a Friday”. As what his Facebook’s status said.
As much as Bertie hated that feeling, he could somewhat sense that he and Clara was getting distant. The messages seemed cooler, or even aloof, as I would say.
Saturday came, and Bertie was on a mission: to make a card for Phoebe. He told Clara he made something for Phoebe already and he could definitely not go back on his word. He woke up especially early because he knew he was slow and needed time to produce something of quality. Bertie was such a girl. He fretted over the lack of coloring materials, that there wasn’t any quality paper to make cards with and that he did not know how the card should look like. Bertie is not exactly someone you call creative and he needs all the inspiration he can get through sights and sounds before developing an idea. After much hair-pulling on possible ways to do up the card, he got off his chair and headed to the nearest Popular store to get materials. For the first time in his life, Bertie spent so much effort on Art & Craft. It was his least favourite subject from Primary School through Secondary school and couldn’t give so much of a damn even when it came to decorating his class notice board. It just wasn’t his kind of thing, he asserted.
Bertie had a hard time making the card. Scissors weren’t his favourite stationery and somehow when everything was done up with glue, it just did not look like how it should have been in Bertie’s head. Bertie is a perfectionist when it comes to his personal endeavors and though it did not turn out as nice as he thought it would be, it was still a beautiful birthday card. It was outstandingly well done. Anyone can see that tons of effort went into it. Bertie had not made a birthday card in a very long time and even he thought it looked not too bad. He was proud of his work and he was sure Phoebe would like it. And hopefully, with a wee bit of luck, Clara will like him a little bit more.
There wasn’t much of a Saturday afternoon left when the birthday card was done. A lot of time was spent on the card but Bertie didn’t mind. While the sun set, Bertie was furiously trying to convince the rest of his friends to go Clark Quay that night.
No such luck. But he did convince this one friend though, Collin. So long as there’s company! Both of them were to be joining this other friend of theirs who was out with his camp mates. They were to be clubbing at Rebel that night. That was the last thing on Bertie’s mind. The only thing that was important to him was to see Clara. Bertie still wanted to talk to Clara and tell her whatever it was that he had planned to say. “Hopefully she’s receptive to me tonight!” Bertie was most optimistic.
Bertie got dressed. And for good luck’s sake, he wore this new top he bought recently. Looking fine and dandy Bertie was! Bertie almost forgot the card when he left house.
Just when he was about to leave, his intestines rumbled and he was sure he had a whirlpool in his stomach. He dashed for the toilet and had a tsunami of a vomiting. Very literally, Bertie was brought to his knees. It was a nasty sight. It was so bad, it … it was just plain bad. (Let’s not gross you out with the description of what happened).
Bertie was completely rattled. Must have been the crazy dinner his dad brought back from the workplace. Once he cleaned himself up, with 2 rounds of Listerine to disinfect his mouth, no less, Bertie went to his room, grabbed a scrape of left-over coloured paper from the making of Phoebe’s birthday card and penned a note to Clara with much urgency and ferocity. He wrote down whatever it was that he wanted to tell Clara. Bertie had not planned to do this but instinct told him to. Bertie never had such a strong hunch, and had never felt more compelled to pen his thoughts, his emotions, and his affection for someone. Bertie had never been more spontaneous and he poured his heart out onto that small piece of orange paper. It felt like the one thing he should do, it felt like right thing to do. Never was he more inspired.
It was a completely strange affair. Somehow after belching all those foul things he ingested, something went lose in his head. And like a breached dam wall, a lot of stuff came out. Surely this must be the work of some omnipresent being: Bertie was completely not being Bertie to be writing such things.
Okay, this note should be useful. I’ll slip it into her bag after telling her how I feel and it’ll make such a cute love letter. Bertie chuckled to himself. And just in case I forget to say some things, this should supplement! Bertie smiled. Tonight should be great!
“I Gotta Feeling” by the Black Eyed Peas was on loop in Bertie’s head on the bus. Bertie was upbeat.
Upon reaching Clark quay, Bertie and Collin went to Rebel to get tickets. 11.28pm, they got the $15 tickets, just in time with 2 minutes to spare. That must be a good sign! They then proceeded to find that friend of theirs who was with his NS mates. After chilling a little, Bertie was off to find Clara. Collin was real adorable; he went with Bertie to provide moral support! With the second reason being, just in case Bertie was given a proper invite, Collin would either get invited through Bertie or, he would go home if Phoebe’s friend weren’t keen on Collin joining. Whatever it was, Collin was being supportive.
Bertie walked briskly. He was most energetic and most eager to see Clara. After all, he concluded he liked Clara a lot. He was hopeful.
Bertie was at Social House in no time. Phoebe was going to be having her 19th birthday celebration here. Bertie sat on the concrete bank, looking out for Clara. His hands were cold, he was slightly nervous. He pretended to yawn: “Ok, my breath is fresh”. Bertie looked around, saw some pretty people and oddly, he wasn’t interested. He looked up and there Clara was, he hadn’t notice her as he thought that was just another group of people hanging outside the club. She was talking to someone and hadn’t notice Bertie too. Bertie stood up and was about to approach her when Bonnie popped out of nowhere and pulled him by the arm back to where he was.
“HEY BERTIE! Hi! Come over, we’re doing up this birthday card for Phoebe, and you’re gonna be writing in it! Come, come, we don’t want to ruin this surprise for Phoebe.” Bertie was stunned by the sudden appearance of Bonnie and her frenzy. It wasn’t until after half a second later that he regained his composure and comprehended what Bonnie was talking about.
“Alright, let’s get a picture of you in the card. Smile!” Bonnie whipped out a very familiar looking Polaroid camera and peered through the aperture.
“Ohhhhhhh! Ok!” Bertie gave a really wide grin with a double “V for victory sign”.
“Yay! Anyway, Clara’s over there.” Bonnie pointed to Clara. “Hey Clara, Bertie’s here!” She cheered. Clara gave a weak smile as she turned her head.
“Yeah, okay.” Bertie thanked Bonnie and approached Clara.
“Hey! Great to see you!” Bertie beamed.
“Hi.” Clara replied.
It was most discouraging for Clara did not make eye contact. She turned her head when she greeted Bertie and then continued to engage in that friend of hers, body away from Bertie.
“Can I talk to you for a bit?” Bertie asked.
“Yeah, give me a moment.” Clara said. She did not look at Bertie one bit.
Bertie felt his heart sank.
“Hi Bertie! I didn’t know you’d be coming! How nice of you!” Phoebe glowed. The Birthday girl did look pretty that night.
“Definitely! Came to pass this card to you. Happy Birthday! Anyway my friends are at Rebel at the moment.” Bertie handed Phoebe the card and gave a most happy smile as he wished the birthday girl.
Phoebe was somewhat amazed by the card Bertie gave. She had only seen him twice, and the first meeting was when she was high on alcohol. Phoebe thanked him and passed the card to Clara, who brought her handbag, for safe keeping before being whisked away by Bonnie to some other place while the rest of the gang of her friends continue to do up the card.
“Hey, can we talk for a bit?” Bertie asked Clara again.
“Yeah, I’ll be done soon, wait a while?” Clara replied. But still, she did not make eye contact with Bertie.
This time, Clara was talking to a random friend of hers who just walked up and started a conversation about the last time he went clubbing and how his friends were talking and laughing about it. Bertie could not have been more dejected. Clara completely deleted Bertie’s queue number from her computer.
Bertie turned to look at Bonnie. Bonnie was one busy girl. She seemed to know everyone there and was taking pictures and talking to everyone of them. Bertie caught Bonnie’s eyes and she introduced him to a particular Clarissa, Rachel and some other girl. Bertie gave a most polite smile when introduced.
Bertie could sense Clara glance at him while he was being introduced and while communicating with other people. Bertie had to show that he was cool, and did not turn to look at Clara. He wanted to show that his attention was elsewhere, and that it was not solely committed to Clara.
Clara continued to chat with other people. That guy she last talked to bailed and now, she was talking to some other person. How nice of her, Bertie thought. He felt so sour he could taste it.
Then, this real good friend of Bonnie came over and chatted up Bertie. Bonnie’s friend was a complete social animal and Bertie was completely comfortable talking to him. That and the fact that Bertie wanting to portray a completely confident and sociable image made Bertie open up more. Or, it was that swig of vodka he had before going over to Social House. It was completely impressive, Bertie’s people-skills, as he talked and communicated. For once he appeared smooth.
Bonnie asked Bertie to go over to the queue and get the tickets with the rest of the guy friends but he declined. “Nah, I can’t, until she agrees...” Bertie responded, looking over to Clara.
Clara turned to Bertie and gave a most puzzling disapproving look. It looked like a frown but there was something in her eyes that said “I want, but I can’t”. But the overall message Bertie gathered was that he shouldn’t be there. Clara couldn’t even bother looking at Bertie in the eyes the whole time he was there.
Bertie thought it was the thing about Clara not wanting Bertie to feel left out because the whole group there had never seen Bertie once in their lives. So he persisted.
Bertie was talking to Bonnie’s friend again and somehow the topic turned to how Bertie has yet to get the tickets. The party was about to start anytime.
“Well, I’m waiting for her. It completely depends on her if I can go or not. She doesn’t exactly want me here because she thinks I’ll be left out with all of you here, but I’m shameless when it comes to meeting new people.” Bertie asserted.
Everyone, including Clara, smiled and Bonnie laughed. That was comic relief to the strain between Clara and Bertie.
“Aiya, it’s okay! It’s just clubbing, she’ll let you come next time!” Bonnie’s friend consoled Bertie.
“Yeah, don’t worry, I’m strong. I’ll get over it.” Bertie quipped, and pretended to look most rueful.
Everyone laughed this time. Bertie had just established himself to be a humorous guy.
Clara was involved in that conversation, kind of. She stopped talking to her friend when Bertie was talking and now that he was done, when Bertie turned to look at her, Clara turned and approached some other person.
Clara made Bertie felt like such a pest.
Bertie grew hopeless. He supposed it was time to give up trying to talk to her.
Clara was still busy with her friend at the moment. Bertie stood around. It felt terrible to lose Clara’s attention. Bertie hated the feeling of losing. He wanted so very much to grab Clara by the elbow, take her to a quieter spot and tell her how he felt. He only needed that and the party can go screw itself. It was at that moment of despair and of Clara’s apparent ruthlessness that Bertie got over the fact that he wasn’t going to the party and to not be having time with Clara. The fact that he so wanted to be part of the party was to be able to tell Clara how he felt. Have a heart-to-heart talk for once. He really liked Clara and believed it was only right to tell her. After all, they were 20 year-olds who should be more than matured enough to take ownership of their feelings, Bertie thought. What could be so wrong to tell someone that you like her? It’s not like I’m even going to propose to make her my girlfriend, why can’t she give me a chance? Bertie was most baffled and traumatized.
Bertie looked at Clara’s handbag. Of the 3 exterior pockets, the right-most had its button undone. Bertie reached into his pocket, dug out the piece of note and tapped it into that pocket. He then buttoned the pocket, to give Clara the impression that he was helping her do up that button.
Bertie took a deep breath and sigh. He touched Clara’s elbow and asked in the most hopeful manner: “So not tonight?”
“Not tonight… I think you should join your friend at Rebel.” Clara replied. She looked at Bertie in the eye and then looked down. There was something about that gaze that was most puzzling. She did look crestfallen for a split second and there was almost an aura of guilt about that. The way she said it did not sound definite either. It was like she did not exactly want to chase Bertie away but had to for some unknown reason. Clara then forced a strained smile: that particular smile that are in those facebook photos of hers, the smile that was given while posing for pictures, the smile that reeked of superficiality. It was either to console Bertie that everything was fine or to tell everyone else that Bertie’s presence didn’t mean anything. Bertie could not decide, Bertie was paralyzed.
Those 2 words did more than enough damage to break his heart. It felt really bitter. No, it felt more than bitter for Bertie. Bertie was absolutely crushed. His mind was a complete blank; he did not even know what else to say. Everything that was in his mind just 15 minutes ago vanished and all that was in his head was to get out of the scene as quickly as possible.
“Okay, not tonight.” Bertie murmured. He almost choked for his throat turned really dry. For once he made eye contact with Clara that night. He looked at Clara and smiled for a split second longer than what people would have had. Bertie thought Clara did look kind of cute that night. Bertie then waved goodbye. He turned around and bid goodbye to Bonnie too.
“Bye Bonnie! See you soon!” In a tone so cheery, yet so plastic it was almost awkward.
Bertie then walked towards Rebel. He walked rather briskly and he did not turn back to look at Clara. His disappointment was manifest, if Clara was even paying attention; Bertie kept looking up into the sky, like how tearful men crane their neck to give the belief that they’re defiant, and that they will hold their head high, amidst holding back the tears. Bertie likewise, was like that. He almost felt like crying. But no, he wouldn’t shed those precious volumes of natural saline solution for something this petty. Bertie did not curse nor swear. He asked only “Why?”
It didn’t take long for Collin to appear and say “It’s ok, man.” to a most depressed Bertie.
Friday, September 25, 2009
Messages
Bertie was on the MRT train when Clara messaged him again. Phew. That must mean things weren’t as bad as they seemed just now. I always think too much, Bertie chided himself.
Messages were good. They always mean that she was interested in communicating. For 2 weeks already, Bertie still cannot stop smiling to himself when his phone vibrates and that the header of the screen says “Clara”. The hand phone was the one thing Bertie would not leave his room without, and the hand phone was the one thing that would not leave Bertie’s hands. He was visibly brighter, happier, and upbeat in his day to day activities. Somewhat different compared to 2 weeks ago before he met Clara. His roommates could see the difference: he was more jovial, made more jokes, and was more involved. He was a better person, to say the least.
Saturday could just not have ended any better:
Clara - Thanks for the hug made me feel loved, haha. Nights
Bertie grinned, he knew for sure now. He really, really, really liked Clara. When he says “like” with 3 “really”-s, it must mean something. Love, to Bertie, was so strong a word not to be dispensed at will. To him, love is a word so strong, when used inappropriately, he’ll cringe. Physical aversion to a literary misapplication. So, he shall not use the word love in this case.
Bertie’s phone’s inbox gets full every 2 days from the messages. But he thoroughly enjoyed it. For the first time in his life, he had someone to talk to, or at the very least, someone he really likes talking to. And it is especially sweet when the person he likes talking to seems to like talking to him, too. Things never looked so good.
Everything went well from Saturday onwards. They flirted, chatted, heart-to-heart-ed. Well, kind of, for the heart-to-heart part, for it seemed like Bertie was more into the communicating. His messages were always around 2-message length while Clara’s messages hardly exceeded a message length. Once, he tried hinting to Clara if, you know, she could be more open:
Bertie - … am I very long-winded in my smses?
Bertie – Cause there was once, a girl commented that I text like a girl with my long messages. Hahaha
Bertie doubt Clara ever got the hint. Well, come to think of it, it did not exactly mean much when Bertie brought this up. The conversation they had at the moment through text messages was a completely random one. It hopped from her having a bad throat to her craving for pratas to something else of not much significance. Why was it not significant? Well, those messages were culled when Bertie went through his inbox to make way for new ones. Bertie have this peculiar habit of keeping messages that are of significance, which are “epic”; messages that reminds him of emotions or of certain events that happened. He is what I suppose, a sentimental person.
Things suddenly took a very serious turn for the worse.
It was Thursday evening. Like any other day, Bertie was happily texting Clara: how his day went, whatever interesting things that happened. Bertie was running out of conversation topics, and he asked:
Bertie – Hey man, what’s the plan for this Saturday, anyway?
There were no activities on Bertie’s phone for quite some time. Oh well, she must have been busy. Maybe she got off work late, maybe she was too caught up with meeting her friends, and maybe she was checking out with the rest of her friends what’s going on for Saturday. Yep, that must be it. It’s going to be her bestie’s birthday and there must for sure be a lot of details, Bertie thought.
The sky was dark already and Bertie was in his room idling. He together with the rest of his roommates had nothing to do. They were as usual, talking cock. He was really excited about the coming Saturday and he for sure could not wait to receive the next text. Bertie was so excited he fantasized about the coming weekend. He thought so hard about this coming Saturday he was going to get a hard-on from thinking any harder. He thought so much about this coming Saturday he was going to go mad from thinking about it anymore. Bertie was really excited; he was so excited he couldn’t be sure if he had told anyone he was going out with Clara this Saturday. Bertie chose to keep things like this private but this was pretty epic and he could have told a couple of people he was going to go out. It isn’t exactly bad but this meant that there were certain expectations to live up to, and that he was somehow obliged to tell his audience what happened. He could have told his roommates. But he couldn’t be sure.
Bertie saunter into his room. He was in his Operators’ room, chilling out to the music from the super cool speakers in their room. He reached his wooden cabinet and bent forward, squinting for the envelop image which meant that there was a new message. And there that envelop was, on the top left corner of the clock. Bertie grabbed his phone, shed his white Cotton-On slippers, leapt into the air, landed on his bed, hugged his pillow, unlocked his keypad and pressed the “Show” button. It took longer for the message to load and appear compared to the 5 actions he just did physically.
Bertie’s face was drained and he felt really sick. He felt his stomach do a front flip and his cheeks turned real cold.
“Oh no!!!! WHY?!?!” Bertie bemoaned. Bertie could feel his roommates turn to look at him; one of them said “Eh, what’s wrong with you, man?” Bertie’s eyes were fixed upon the screen of his battered Nokia:
Clara – Idk uh. Do u think its weird t bring u along t my friend’s bday party? Like, idk how to put it eh:/
Bertie seriously felt dreadful. He was far from disappointed. He was devastated. It felt so bad, it felt so sour, it felt just plain terrible. Bertie buried his head in the pillow. He so very looked forward to this Saturday. So many things were going on in his mind.
Bertie took a generous breathe and typed on his keypad (I swear his eyes were turning red):
Bertie – …. I thought I was invited, that your friends were cool with me and that I was wanted …. Anyway sorry for the late reply, was definitely not crying to myself.
(Due to one reason or another, the author is unable to write out the full message. It was a really long message Bertie typed and he cannot remember it. After all, his phone can’t store many messages. :)
With the gloomiest face in a very, very long time, Bertie dragged himself up, scooped his mug containing his toothbrush and toothpaste and went to wash up.
“What did I do wrong? Wasn’t Phoebe cool with me? I thought she liked me! Shirley is definitely cool with me, I mean, WE CHATTED ON FACEBOOK! Oh my god, was I too persistent? Did I asked her one time too many? But can’t be! Why on Earth would Clara not want me to be there? I thought I ‘clinched’ it last night! Oh no, I hope it’s not her friends who don’t like me…” Insecure was Bertie at this moment. His teeth definitely got brushed real thorough as he gazed into his thoughts. He was so dejected he could not even prop himself up and his left arm had to lean against the left of the mirror, just so. Bertie thought he looked sad for a moment.
He really was sad.
Clara – No la that’s not what I meant. ‘Cause its Phoebe’s birthday and her secondary school and outside friends will be there too. And Shirley asked my other friends from school too, and then I don’t want Phoebe to feel that I’m like inviting my friends when it’s her birthday. You get what I mean?..
Bertie – Okay, so you want the crowd to be kept to her immediate group of friends. Am I right to say that?
Clara – Yeah, something like that.. I let you know again if others are calling their friends? Sorry.. I feel so bad
The last four words did lighten the damage a little. Phew, at least she cares about how I feel, Bertie thought. So it’s not her then. Bertie then slid into bed, clamped his eyes and wished it was all but a bad move on Clara’s part. Bertie worked his persistence. His previous, previous message did sound sad and pitiful enough to make Clara feel bad.
Bertie’s characteristic persistence works most of the time. It need not work in such a way that it portrays Bertie wailing like a baby on the floor throwing a tantrum, but to phrase words in particular ways and manners to bring about his point. The one thing Bertie loved about text messages was, unlike talking in person, 100% of the communication boiled down to the language, words and tone. If only Bertie’s GP teacher could see how he worked his English in text messages to bring about his point; the teacher should be furious at Bertie for only if he could have done it in his GP script and got better than a “B” for ‘A’ Levels.
Bertie - :/ it’s ok. To be honest, I’m completely disappointed that I won’t have an as happy Saturday night but I’m somewhat heartened by you kinda want me there. Anyway I seriously already counted her as my friend and even made something for her. It’s nothing big though. Help me pass to her if I don’t get to go?
Ok, she must really be feeling bad about me not being able to go now, Bertie thought. The “made something for her”? It was a complete lie. But it was a necessary one. Surely Clara can’t reject even meeting Bertie for a moment to get the gift he made, or at least the one he said he made. It must take a lot for a guy to be making something for a girl. And the girl wasn’t even Clara; it was only Clara’s friend. Not only was this an excuse to meet Clara and possibly a proper invitation to the party now, it must have scored a couple of points on Clara’s impression of Bertie. Bertie is a scheming dick. (I can’t stand him sometimes.)
Clara – Don’t sound so sad, leh. Sorry I feel really bad.
Bertie whined over a message. How he had nothing on Saturday now, since he wasn’t invited to no party: how he had looked forward to meeting Clara. And for the first time since he started texting Clara, he bid her a goodnight first. Usually, he will hang on till Clara says goodnight, and then ending the conversation with another message. Bertie had always sent the last message. To him, it was to show that he was interested, and that he was keen in the conversation. More than that, to send the last message was a symbol as good as sending a girl home after an outing, for it was the most chivalrous thing anyone can do over the phone. But at that moment, he couldn’t care less. He had to show that he wasn’t happy, but in a most subtle way: everyone’s impression of Bertie so far had been that of a “He’s-so-nice-no-one-can-find-fault-with-him” kind.
Clara – I’ll try to squeeze some time to meet you, ok? Chin up :)
That was heartening, Bertie thought. Okay, I still am wanted, Bertie grimaced. He tried to smile to himself but he was so upset he tried a little too hard and he was sure the result was that of a grimace.
Bertie had IPPT the following day. But he sure as hell could not sleep. “I bet I’m gonna get gold tomorrow for shit just happened. Something must make up for all this nonsense that happened, surely something good must come my way.” Bertie reasoned. “And after I get gold, I’m gonna receive a message from Clara that says I’m invited, because more friends are gonna show up! Yes! And things will be back to the way it was! Happy people sending happy text messages!” Bertie was getting delusional. He was sinking into damage-control mode for he was so upset he made himself think positive, he had to inflate himself with some fantastic notion.
Bertie was real disturbed. He just could not understand why things could turn out so bad. It was just a simple party and now his plans for Saturday were ruined. Saturday was not just another clubbing session. Bertie was supposed to be Clara’s date. And he being her date meant he had to make it a special outing for her. He wanted to make it special for her. Bertie and Clara were talking about surprises just a day back. Bertie promised her a surprise on Saturday. Bertie was poking fun at her over messages and used “surprise” to pacify her tantrum. Bertie knew it was just plain teasing and humor on her part, but he still used “surprise” to coax her. It was not so much as to persuade Clara to text him back, but it was to make her look forward to Saturday. It was very much of to tempt her, to make her be eager of him, and to keep it “hot”.
Bertie did thought hard of how to surprise her! In fact, he had already put on his thinking cap the moment Clara zoomed off on bus 30. He had already come out with ideas, he had a plan. He had already made a mental note of where to go, when to check things out on Friday after his book-out. Bertie had it all planned. He was so close to executing it. So damn close. All the things he wanted to say, all the things he wanted to do wouldn’t mean anything now.
Bertie sulked to sleep that night. He for sure did not sleep well. The things he meant to do keep coming up in his head. He hadn’t been so unhappy in a long time.
I believe most of his anguish lies in that he won’t be living out the best, and possibly, the most romantic Saturday of his life. It was just not meant to be. What was his plan you ask? I don’t know, honestly. Bertie refuses to tell anyone. He says whatever he planned will just turn out to be something cheesy for those not involved. But just tell me! I pleaded (it’s like, DUH OF COURSE IT LOOKS CHEESY! WHICH LOVEY-DOVEY ACTION ON EARTH WON’T MAKE BYSTANDERS CRINGE?). I was so eager to know how much of a Romeo Bertie was. He kept quiet and gave a look that spelled such pain and disappointment. It was at that moment I knew I had to stfu.
Messages were good. They always mean that she was interested in communicating. For 2 weeks already, Bertie still cannot stop smiling to himself when his phone vibrates and that the header of the screen says “Clara”. The hand phone was the one thing Bertie would not leave his room without, and the hand phone was the one thing that would not leave Bertie’s hands. He was visibly brighter, happier, and upbeat in his day to day activities. Somewhat different compared to 2 weeks ago before he met Clara. His roommates could see the difference: he was more jovial, made more jokes, and was more involved. He was a better person, to say the least.
Saturday could just not have ended any better:
Clara - Thanks for the hug made me feel loved, haha. Nights
Bertie grinned, he knew for sure now. He really, really, really liked Clara. When he says “like” with 3 “really”-s, it must mean something. Love, to Bertie, was so strong a word not to be dispensed at will. To him, love is a word so strong, when used inappropriately, he’ll cringe. Physical aversion to a literary misapplication. So, he shall not use the word love in this case.
Bertie’s phone’s inbox gets full every 2 days from the messages. But he thoroughly enjoyed it. For the first time in his life, he had someone to talk to, or at the very least, someone he really likes talking to. And it is especially sweet when the person he likes talking to seems to like talking to him, too. Things never looked so good.
Everything went well from Saturday onwards. They flirted, chatted, heart-to-heart-ed. Well, kind of, for the heart-to-heart part, for it seemed like Bertie was more into the communicating. His messages were always around 2-message length while Clara’s messages hardly exceeded a message length. Once, he tried hinting to Clara if, you know, she could be more open:
Bertie - … am I very long-winded in my smses?
Bertie – Cause there was once, a girl commented that I text like a girl with my long messages. Hahaha
Bertie doubt Clara ever got the hint. Well, come to think of it, it did not exactly mean much when Bertie brought this up. The conversation they had at the moment through text messages was a completely random one. It hopped from her having a bad throat to her craving for pratas to something else of not much significance. Why was it not significant? Well, those messages were culled when Bertie went through his inbox to make way for new ones. Bertie have this peculiar habit of keeping messages that are of significance, which are “epic”; messages that reminds him of emotions or of certain events that happened. He is what I suppose, a sentimental person.
Things suddenly took a very serious turn for the worse.
It was Thursday evening. Like any other day, Bertie was happily texting Clara: how his day went, whatever interesting things that happened. Bertie was running out of conversation topics, and he asked:
Bertie – Hey man, what’s the plan for this Saturday, anyway?
There were no activities on Bertie’s phone for quite some time. Oh well, she must have been busy. Maybe she got off work late, maybe she was too caught up with meeting her friends, and maybe she was checking out with the rest of her friends what’s going on for Saturday. Yep, that must be it. It’s going to be her bestie’s birthday and there must for sure be a lot of details, Bertie thought.
The sky was dark already and Bertie was in his room idling. He together with the rest of his roommates had nothing to do. They were as usual, talking cock. He was really excited about the coming Saturday and he for sure could not wait to receive the next text. Bertie was so excited he fantasized about the coming weekend. He thought so hard about this coming Saturday he was going to get a hard-on from thinking any harder. He thought so much about this coming Saturday he was going to go mad from thinking about it anymore. Bertie was really excited; he was so excited he couldn’t be sure if he had told anyone he was going out with Clara this Saturday. Bertie chose to keep things like this private but this was pretty epic and he could have told a couple of people he was going to go out. It isn’t exactly bad but this meant that there were certain expectations to live up to, and that he was somehow obliged to tell his audience what happened. He could have told his roommates. But he couldn’t be sure.
Bertie saunter into his room. He was in his Operators’ room, chilling out to the music from the super cool speakers in their room. He reached his wooden cabinet and bent forward, squinting for the envelop image which meant that there was a new message. And there that envelop was, on the top left corner of the clock. Bertie grabbed his phone, shed his white Cotton-On slippers, leapt into the air, landed on his bed, hugged his pillow, unlocked his keypad and pressed the “Show” button. It took longer for the message to load and appear compared to the 5 actions he just did physically.
Bertie’s face was drained and he felt really sick. He felt his stomach do a front flip and his cheeks turned real cold.
“Oh no!!!! WHY?!?!” Bertie bemoaned. Bertie could feel his roommates turn to look at him; one of them said “Eh, what’s wrong with you, man?” Bertie’s eyes were fixed upon the screen of his battered Nokia:
Clara – Idk uh. Do u think its weird t bring u along t my friend’s bday party? Like, idk how to put it eh:/
Bertie seriously felt dreadful. He was far from disappointed. He was devastated. It felt so bad, it felt so sour, it felt just plain terrible. Bertie buried his head in the pillow. He so very looked forward to this Saturday. So many things were going on in his mind.
Bertie took a generous breathe and typed on his keypad (I swear his eyes were turning red):
Bertie – …. I thought I was invited, that your friends were cool with me and that I was wanted …. Anyway sorry for the late reply, was definitely not crying to myself.
(Due to one reason or another, the author is unable to write out the full message. It was a really long message Bertie typed and he cannot remember it. After all, his phone can’t store many messages. :)
With the gloomiest face in a very, very long time, Bertie dragged himself up, scooped his mug containing his toothbrush and toothpaste and went to wash up.
“What did I do wrong? Wasn’t Phoebe cool with me? I thought she liked me! Shirley is definitely cool with me, I mean, WE CHATTED ON FACEBOOK! Oh my god, was I too persistent? Did I asked her one time too many? But can’t be! Why on Earth would Clara not want me to be there? I thought I ‘clinched’ it last night! Oh no, I hope it’s not her friends who don’t like me…” Insecure was Bertie at this moment. His teeth definitely got brushed real thorough as he gazed into his thoughts. He was so dejected he could not even prop himself up and his left arm had to lean against the left of the mirror, just so. Bertie thought he looked sad for a moment.
He really was sad.
Clara – No la that’s not what I meant. ‘Cause its Phoebe’s birthday and her secondary school and outside friends will be there too. And Shirley asked my other friends from school too, and then I don’t want Phoebe to feel that I’m like inviting my friends when it’s her birthday. You get what I mean?..
Bertie – Okay, so you want the crowd to be kept to her immediate group of friends. Am I right to say that?
Clara – Yeah, something like that.. I let you know again if others are calling their friends? Sorry.. I feel so bad
The last four words did lighten the damage a little. Phew, at least she cares about how I feel, Bertie thought. So it’s not her then. Bertie then slid into bed, clamped his eyes and wished it was all but a bad move on Clara’s part. Bertie worked his persistence. His previous, previous message did sound sad and pitiful enough to make Clara feel bad.
Bertie’s characteristic persistence works most of the time. It need not work in such a way that it portrays Bertie wailing like a baby on the floor throwing a tantrum, but to phrase words in particular ways and manners to bring about his point. The one thing Bertie loved about text messages was, unlike talking in person, 100% of the communication boiled down to the language, words and tone. If only Bertie’s GP teacher could see how he worked his English in text messages to bring about his point; the teacher should be furious at Bertie for only if he could have done it in his GP script and got better than a “B” for ‘A’ Levels.
Bertie - :/ it’s ok. To be honest, I’m completely disappointed that I won’t have an as happy Saturday night but I’m somewhat heartened by you kinda want me there. Anyway I seriously already counted her as my friend and even made something for her. It’s nothing big though. Help me pass to her if I don’t get to go?
Ok, she must really be feeling bad about me not being able to go now, Bertie thought. The “made something for her”? It was a complete lie. But it was a necessary one. Surely Clara can’t reject even meeting Bertie for a moment to get the gift he made, or at least the one he said he made. It must take a lot for a guy to be making something for a girl. And the girl wasn’t even Clara; it was only Clara’s friend. Not only was this an excuse to meet Clara and possibly a proper invitation to the party now, it must have scored a couple of points on Clara’s impression of Bertie. Bertie is a scheming dick. (I can’t stand him sometimes.)
Clara – Don’t sound so sad, leh. Sorry I feel really bad.
Bertie whined over a message. How he had nothing on Saturday now, since he wasn’t invited to no party: how he had looked forward to meeting Clara. And for the first time since he started texting Clara, he bid her a goodnight first. Usually, he will hang on till Clara says goodnight, and then ending the conversation with another message. Bertie had always sent the last message. To him, it was to show that he was interested, and that he was keen in the conversation. More than that, to send the last message was a symbol as good as sending a girl home after an outing, for it was the most chivalrous thing anyone can do over the phone. But at that moment, he couldn’t care less. He had to show that he wasn’t happy, but in a most subtle way: everyone’s impression of Bertie so far had been that of a “He’s-so-nice-no-one-can-find-fault-with-him” kind.
Clara – I’ll try to squeeze some time to meet you, ok? Chin up :)
That was heartening, Bertie thought. Okay, I still am wanted, Bertie grimaced. He tried to smile to himself but he was so upset he tried a little too hard and he was sure the result was that of a grimace.
Bertie had IPPT the following day. But he sure as hell could not sleep. “I bet I’m gonna get gold tomorrow for shit just happened. Something must make up for all this nonsense that happened, surely something good must come my way.” Bertie reasoned. “And after I get gold, I’m gonna receive a message from Clara that says I’m invited, because more friends are gonna show up! Yes! And things will be back to the way it was! Happy people sending happy text messages!” Bertie was getting delusional. He was sinking into damage-control mode for he was so upset he made himself think positive, he had to inflate himself with some fantastic notion.
Bertie was real disturbed. He just could not understand why things could turn out so bad. It was just a simple party and now his plans for Saturday were ruined. Saturday was not just another clubbing session. Bertie was supposed to be Clara’s date. And he being her date meant he had to make it a special outing for her. He wanted to make it special for her. Bertie and Clara were talking about surprises just a day back. Bertie promised her a surprise on Saturday. Bertie was poking fun at her over messages and used “surprise” to pacify her tantrum. Bertie knew it was just plain teasing and humor on her part, but he still used “surprise” to coax her. It was not so much as to persuade Clara to text him back, but it was to make her look forward to Saturday. It was very much of to tempt her, to make her be eager of him, and to keep it “hot”.
Bertie did thought hard of how to surprise her! In fact, he had already put on his thinking cap the moment Clara zoomed off on bus 30. He had already come out with ideas, he had a plan. He had already made a mental note of where to go, when to check things out on Friday after his book-out. Bertie had it all planned. He was so close to executing it. So damn close. All the things he wanted to say, all the things he wanted to do wouldn’t mean anything now.
Bertie sulked to sleep that night. He for sure did not sleep well. The things he meant to do keep coming up in his head. He hadn’t been so unhappy in a long time.
I believe most of his anguish lies in that he won’t be living out the best, and possibly, the most romantic Saturday of his life. It was just not meant to be. What was his plan you ask? I don’t know, honestly. Bertie refuses to tell anyone. He says whatever he planned will just turn out to be something cheesy for those not involved. But just tell me! I pleaded (it’s like, DUH OF COURSE IT LOOKS CHEESY! WHICH LOVEY-DOVEY ACTION ON EARTH WON’T MAKE BYSTANDERS CRINGE?). I was so eager to know how much of a Romeo Bertie was. He kept quiet and gave a look that spelled such pain and disappointment. It was at that moment I knew I had to stfu.
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Nervous
It was a Saturday, Bertie gave Clara a hug. Bertie was so freaking nervous. He had wanted to hug Clara the whole day.
Well, they were dating, kind of, through text messages, and on Saturday very early morning (or veryyyy late friday night), Clara sooo very wanted a hug. That was what she said over the message. Bertie was out clubbing that night with his friends. He didn't exactly plan to club because he knew he wouldn't be enjoying it. He adored Clara. He thought about Clara. He missed Clara. The only girl he wanted at the moment dancing with him was Clara. Not that she was hot like Megan Fox, but Clara was the only one he adored. So why did he clubbed? 'cause all his buddies went!
So back to Saturday. Bertie so wanted to hug Clara and hold her hand. The thing is, Bertie was out with Clara and her buddies, Shirley and Phoebe. Well, any self respecting gentlemen just could not display their affection in the presence of people they know well. It would be plain awkward and somewhat uncomfortable for everyone present. So he fought the itch. The 4 of them walked, and walked down Labrador Park. It was their destination of choice for they do not know where to go. Bertie being a simple-minded, old-school, completely unfashionable small boy had no idea where everyone could hang out. He was struck by what he termed, the I-Do-Not-Know-Where-To-Go syndrome. It's a terrible disease and there are only 2 cures: a wallet with a thick wad of cash in it or, some super good idea. These ideas do not come by often and the wallet with cash in it never ever comes. Today was the day when he had neither. So they strolled, took photos and everyone pretended to be Dora the explorer with maps and cameras in hand. It was good fun. Real good fun. Bertie took photos for the 3 girls and the best part was, when he took a photo with that 1 girl. He grinned so wide he almost pulled a muscle. He has even got a Polaroid to prove it!
So the sun was about to set and Phoebe had to leave. She dropped the 3 of them at the City of Vivo and off she went down the road. Bertie was never to see Phoebe again until the Birthday. It was only a week to the Birthday and Bertie so looked forward to it. It was going to be the day where he will have the whole night to Clara and that no one will judge or even feel uncomfortable. That was the day to look forward to, Bertie thought.
So the 3 of them walked into the city, browsed around and decided to catch a show. Shirley decided that they should watch G-force, an animation where animated guinea pigs are superheros and save the day. "It was nice to have Clara's company." That was Bertie's only comment for the movie. (Okay, quite funny lah, the show. ;)
So after the movie, both girls decided to leave and they walked to the bus stop. Shirley somewhat sensed that she was beginning to glow and tried to make excuses to excuse herself. Bertie didn't want Shirley to make such an abrupt leave. It would be so not natural. So, he strike up a conversation and off the 3 of them walked to the bus stop.
At the bus stop, Bertie so couldn't wait for Shirley to leave. (Weird huh?). He had to hug Clara and tell her how he felt. There was a war going on in his head: "Do it now or else the bus will come and it's good game for you, loser." vs. "Paiseh lah, Shirley's around....". It must have been quite apparent the disagreement in Bertie's head for he was getting restless. He rocked, he folded his arms, he twitched his neck, he cracked his knuckles, his eyes hurtled in the direction of the incoming buses, hoping it wasn't 30. So some other bus came and Shirley decided to leave on that bus, and Bertie and Clara was alone.
The moment Shirley left, Bertie had an adrenaline rush. The kind of rush one normally feels at the beginning of a race or competition, when you know there's so much on the line in this fight. It was that kind of excitement that was raging in him. His heartbeat quickened so fast he thought he was going to hyperventilate. He resorted to stretching and to control his breathing, of course, while trying to be as smooth and as sleek as possible to not scare the hell out of Clara. Once he had his head, he walked up to Clara, extended his arms, voice wavering "...Can I, hug you-" and Clara embraced him, before he could finish intonating the question mark.
It felt so warm, so comforting. All the tension ceased and that felt good. That was all he wanted to do and finally, he got to do it. No amount of words will do justice to the relief and affection he felt. Bertie then told her how much he had enjoyed the day. That was pretty much what he got to say before being pushed into the cold of reality. Somehow the embrace ended and he did not remember initiating the break-up. But never mind. He stood really close to Clara and promised her "Next outing, I'll plan it!", while grinning like a mad monkey.
"But I won't be free next weekend," said Clara, for she had gatherings in the afternoon and the Birthday to attend in the evening.
"Oh.." Bertie flustered for a moment.
"Well, I hope I'm invited!" He blurted it out shamelessly.
"Haha, we'll see." Clara smiled.
Then, awkward silence.
Bertie glanced at Clara, no eye contact made. She was looking out into the traffic. He so hoped she'll just turn around just so he could look at her. No such luck.
"Rooooooaaaaaaarrrrr..... screeeeeeeeech!!!!!" 30 came. "Fuck!" Bertie thought. Clara turned for a quick goodbye wave and boarded the bus. He eyed her as she tapped her infrequently used EZ-link card, all the way till she sat down. She did not look out of the window one bit. Bertie had his right hand half-raised, all set to wave the friendliest goodbye should she look over. Nope, she did not look over. 30 roared out of the bus stop and Bertie stood on the spot for a second too long. He was so very, very, very slightly disappointed. So very slightly only. But he didn't want to feel that way. He refused to feel that way. Bertie gulped, took a hearty breathe and thought "any awkwardness was all my fault.". Then, he walked into the cold, alone, towards Harbourfront MRT station.
"Fuck, the last train better not be gone yet." Bertie whispered to himself.
Saturday, September 05, 2009
We made it happen.
Come Together: A Tribute to the Parade Participants
"Come together." Those two words could not have been more appropriate, more succinctly used, to describe the spirit of the National Day Parade 2009. Came together everyone did. From the old to the young, from professionals to school children, people from all walks of life, with the most diverse social profile. The participants came together, regardless of race, language or religion. They went on to put up the most spectacular parade.
When Chairman Ex-Co addressed the parade participants, he said something about them being the best, being the elite of Singapore for out of the population, they were the ones marching. Marching could just not be to advance in a stately and deliberate manner as an organization. It was more than that for this was the National Day Parade. To march in this parade was more of a show of the population’s strength. Of how the young and old stand in united effort atop the floating platform, firm and fixed. Firm and fixed like our predecessors. The determined people who transformed Singapore into what it is today. Firm and Fixed in their drills and movement upon commands. Definitely not to poke at our population being subservient to its leaders but rather, the will of the people to move as one, to move forward and on a grander scale, for the progress of our nation.
For the past few years, people have been talking about how “soft” this generation has turned out to be. How our generation lost their willpower to the wind, being completely dependent on parents, taken to playing FIFA 2009 on the PlayStation than to be playing proper soccer and everything else. Just because we aren’t the hardy independent kids brought up the same way they were. Sure enough, the Capteh kicking kids of the past seems way hardier than the GameBoy toting teenagers of the present but you cannot deny that our 14, 15 year olds are not as tough or as capable. In the blistering heat, the participants grimace and swelter. The same faces grimace for the whole period of 4 months. Coping with school examinations and busied with work on the weekdays and then the rehearsals on the Saturdays. One will think it is almost impossible and that only the military can accommodate this kind of punishing schedule. They could not have been more wrong; the civil contingents as with the military contingents could not have done better than to exceed themselves and the expectations of others. Surely the word “soft” cannot be associated with our parade participants.
The parade participants have shown themselves to be the best. From the population, they volunteered. This process of volunteering could have been an interesting one:
A member of the Uniformed Groups may have asked “Ma’am, I would like to take part in this year’s NDO. Can I join?”
Soldiers, Seamen and Airmen from the military contingents may have known each other within their contingent; their company was “arrowed” from “Higher up” to march, en bloc.
The Guard of Honor (GOH) contingents were probably told “You march because you’re the elite. This is to reward, recognize and showcase you as the elite defenders of our country!”
Some other member of the Social/Economic Group told his friend “Eh, Mr. Lee put my name down without asking me just because he had to submit names to HQ for this year’s NDP, so unfair, lah!”
These could have been the possible recollections of the participants at the start of the NDP journey. They may have offered themselves, could have been ordered to participate, for the pride of being in an elite organization or even felt obliged to join because their superiors at work said so.
Definition of voluntary: Done, given, or acting by choice. Each and every one of them made the choice to stay on. To get back up, even when they’re too tired to continue. To break into tears when they were told they will no longer be marching because they have fallen out too many times. To stay committed by attending all rehearsals on the weekends, shelf plans they have for the moment till after the parade. To bind to the cause of celebrating the Nation’s Birthday. Every single one of them made the choice to stay on and march.
To quit was not difficult. Excuses and reasons to give up will be at the top of everyone’s mind when the going gets tough. However, with the medical team having to stretcher off participants who collapse every other few minutes during the grueling afternoon practices is testament to the fighting spirit of the participants. They could have walked away from the dizzying heat but they pressed on till their body can no longer take the punishment. Despite falling out, these are the same participants who rejoin their contingents for the evening rehearsals. Just so that when it came to the shows, the preview and the actual parade, they can still be the proud faces standing shoulder to shoulder with the rest of their contingents proudly representing their organization as the best that Singapore has to offer.
The parade segment has always been the mainstay of the National Day Parade. From the inaugural parade at the Padang to the present parade at the floating platform, there will be the parade on National day. It will be the dedicated group of people marching on it, working tirelessly behind the scenes. Different faces each year but with the same level of dedication. Rising up to the occasion to make the parade as successful as it can be. Just as how Singaporeans have risen up for the peace and prosperity of our country.
Reflection of my NDP 2009 experience. Far from perfect. I've not written anything in a super long time so pardon my English, if it's bad.
:)
Monday, August 10, 2009
Come Together.
Still cannot believe that NDP 09 is over. All the work from 370309 till 090809. Completely enjoyed myself. I must say I'm real lucky to be able to be involved in the National Day Parade. Not just any National Day Parade, but National Day Parade 2009.
Looking back...I guess it was my good fortune when LTA Siow asked us specs "eh, who here wants to be involved in NDP? Will burn a lot of Sturdays one leh." My fat hand was the first to shoot up. I swore I heard the "woosh!" of the swift movement of my hand, followed by the crazy waving, attempting to catch the attention of the speaker, amidst the thousands of participants. But the thing was, there were only 6 of us in his office cubicle and, I WAS IN! "MUAHAHAHA!", I chuckled to the other 5 of them. And so, my NDP journey began.
Was the marshal for Girls' Brigade. Basically my job scope was to "hang out" with them: feedback their complaints to the committee, do the hard labour like carrying food and stuff, and lead them around the place.
That's not the fun part. The fun part was the people. It was pretty much like orientation in school again: taking care of kids, talking to them, humour them, and to make it my priority that their NDP experience was the MOST awesome one. Just that it lasted 4 months. But I loved it.
Met a couple of new friends. Still working things out to make myself their friend. Ironic isn't it? They're weird people. But they're fun. And I Love Fun People :D
Anyway, pictures and all, go check out my facebook. Quite a few pictures in there. Took with almost all the participants and the adults :) I'm too lazy to put all of them up here.
Really misses NDP.
Looking back...I guess it was my good fortune when LTA Siow asked us specs "eh, who here wants to be involved in NDP? Will burn a lot of Sturdays one leh." My fat hand was the first to shoot up. I swore I heard the "woosh!" of the swift movement of my hand, followed by the crazy waving, attempting to catch the attention of the speaker, amidst the thousands of participants. But the thing was, there were only 6 of us in his office cubicle and, I WAS IN! "MUAHAHAHA!", I chuckled to the other 5 of them. And so, my NDP journey began.
Was the marshal for Girls' Brigade. Basically my job scope was to "hang out" with them: feedback their complaints to the committee, do the hard labour like carrying food and stuff, and lead them around the place.
That's not the fun part. The fun part was the people. It was pretty much like orientation in school again: taking care of kids, talking to them, humour them, and to make it my priority that their NDP experience was the MOST awesome one. Just that it lasted 4 months. But I loved it.
Met a couple of new friends. Still working things out to make myself their friend. Ironic isn't it? They're weird people. But they're fun. And I Love Fun People :D
Anyway, pictures and all, go check out my facebook. Quite a few pictures in there. Took with almost all the participants and the adults :) I'm too lazy to put all of them up here.
Really misses NDP.
Thursday, July 09, 2009
My Saturdays.
The one reason I wake up at 8 in the morning on Saturdays. A lot of saturdays. Actually all saturdays since April.
Swear to god this is the best job NDP09 has to offer and I'm on it. DAMN AM I LUCKY OR WHAT?!
It's a real huge-ass photo up there and... I look like I need to work my abs. Hahaha.
Those wearing white will slap me if they see the exclamation above.
Too lazy to update on my life. Pretty happening life I lead on some weekends but I don't think I should share. I'll sound like too much of a slut. And it doesn't exactly fit the "good boy" image at all :)
Only thing worth mentioning is, I've not gone out with the clique for the past 2 months. Damn man, we don't love each other as much anymore :(
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Yaaaaay..
Pretty used to camp life again. Been super long since I updated but just as well. Life hasn't been real happening anyway.
So, kind of caught up with all the work already. Now I'm almost the same as everyone else, I hope. Work's pretty boring cause everything's repetitive and there's no sense of satisfaction or whatever cause it's hardly meaningful nor intellectual. But I still will do whatever that is assigned to me to the best of my ability cause it's NS afterall. I don't wanna get scolded, I don't wanna implicate my friends, I don't wanna be condemed. LOL. But everything's getting better for sure. Getting more and more used to the work and there's not much pressure from the top the past few weeks so work is still fine, to say the least. :)
Chinese New Year was nice. Really. Maybe it's because I was caged at home for 2 months which makes even the most anti-social people want to be social. Haha. But it was nice to see everyone again. All the 'little' cousins grew, cousins around the same age as me got real 'happening' and I changed! :D Lots of positive stuff from all the relatives about my new look and it was pretty cool :) Hanging out with cousins were the most fun I guess. Didn't know we live in such a sex-ed up world =x Hahahaa. So anyway, this year's celebration was just too short. I suppose it's right smack in the beginning of the week and after the official 2 days break, everyone needs to go back to work. So not as fun as last year but the long weekend was real nice. Ang Pao tally as mediocre as ever lol. I've got lots of relatives and hence, lots of kids and since the amount spent on ang paos is usually a constant, each of us got a smaller slice of the ang pao pie. Haha.
Then came V day! The most dreaded day by singles ever! Well, kinda. Spent V-day eve with smoke shaun and some of my operators in the club and it was a pretty happening night :D hahaha. Weird people there. the ratio that night wasn't too bad, so we all had a lil bit of fun :)
Was super stoned after the party ended but with all the alcohol surging in the veins and possibly the brain, was greatly inspired on what I should do on Saturday! Real cool stuff. First time ever my whole life I did something so incredibly insane awesome! LoL. Chu stunt. As what the dudes commented. But didn't go out in the night cause was too damn tired from the night before. So missed out on all the mushy, huggy, lovey-dovey couples haunting the street that night. Woke up next morning to the most incredible article ever. lol
Oh yea, had IPPT on V-day eve and ran a silver. Screwed up. But oh well, will try till I get a gold. I know I can do it :) If I shed my belly and run harder haha.
Anyway the V-day weekend was kind of an enlightenment. The first step is always the hardest. But once you get started, everything will go on smoother than you think it'll be. So, got my ass up and registered myself in drive school, and some other stuff too. ;) Hopefully weekends will no longer be boring. Shall get up and be less passive. Afterall, I should enjoy myself when I'm still young right?
So, kind of caught up with all the work already. Now I'm almost the same as everyone else, I hope. Work's pretty boring cause everything's repetitive and there's no sense of satisfaction or whatever cause it's hardly meaningful nor intellectual. But I still will do whatever that is assigned to me to the best of my ability cause it's NS afterall. I don't wanna get scolded, I don't wanna implicate my friends, I don't wanna be condemed. LOL. But everything's getting better for sure. Getting more and more used to the work and there's not much pressure from the top the past few weeks so work is still fine, to say the least. :)
Chinese New Year was nice. Really. Maybe it's because I was caged at home for 2 months which makes even the most anti-social people want to be social. Haha. But it was nice to see everyone again. All the 'little' cousins grew, cousins around the same age as me got real 'happening' and I changed! :D Lots of positive stuff from all the relatives about my new look and it was pretty cool :) Hanging out with cousins were the most fun I guess. Didn't know we live in such a sex-ed up world =x Hahahaa. So anyway, this year's celebration was just too short. I suppose it's right smack in the beginning of the week and after the official 2 days break, everyone needs to go back to work. So not as fun as last year but the long weekend was real nice. Ang Pao tally as mediocre as ever lol. I've got lots of relatives and hence, lots of kids and since the amount spent on ang paos is usually a constant, each of us got a smaller slice of the ang pao pie. Haha.
Then came V day! The most dreaded day by singles ever! Well, kinda. Spent V-day eve with smoke shaun and some of my operators in the club and it was a pretty happening night :D hahaha. Weird people there. the ratio that night wasn't too bad, so we all had a lil bit of fun :)
Was super stoned after the party ended but with all the alcohol surging in the veins and possibly the brain, was greatly inspired on what I should do on Saturday! Real cool stuff. First time ever my whole life I did something so incredibly
Oh yea, had IPPT on V-day eve and ran a silver. Screwed up. But oh well, will try till I get a gold. I know I can do it :) If I shed my belly and run harder haha.
Anyway the V-day weekend was kind of an enlightenment. The first step is always the hardest. But once you get started, everything will go on smoother than you think it'll be. So, got my ass up and registered myself in drive school, and some other stuff too. ;) Hopefully weekends will no longer be boring. Shall get up and be less passive. Afterall, I should enjoy myself when I'm still young right?
Wednesday, January 07, 2009
Back
So today's the end of the honeymoon! Completely enjoyed myself for the past 2 months of not having to do any work. I'm lazy shit. So gotta go back and work hard for the next 10 months before I can shout the ever-fantastic phrase of "ORD loh!" LOL
Anyway hope I catch up real fast. Shouldn't be much of a problem I guess. Shall put in my best.
Really haven't accomplished a lot in the past weeks and I hate myself for that. I'm not as fit, not as clever, not as good.
Anyway hope I catch up real fast. Shouldn't be much of a problem I guess. Shall put in my best.
Really haven't accomplished a lot in the past weeks and I hate myself for that. I'm not as fit, not as clever, not as good.
So that's the most valuable piece of crumpled paper out there. Grants you 2 months immunity to camp life. That's almost like the reward challenge and being granted immunity on "Survivor" lol.
As much as I've enjoyed myself, I don't think I'm gonna slack off for the rest of NS. Will still try my best. Tried to go back early (Sunday night) but was rejected, and I can only go back tonight. Was kind of disappointed lol. Cause if I could book in on Sunday, together with everyone after their block leave, I'll kind of be on a closer footing. Oh well.
And I realised that I'm a born asshole. Met up with some friends and while chatting, the topic jumped to random events last time and they said, I said mean things, sort of. I'm such a dick head. I think I've got a terrible way with words because I haven't got those negative connotations, just my poor choice of words. I hope that didn't happened too often. Haha
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