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its something like bleargh

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There is a sense of “I am in a box”.

The randomness, as a rule, follows no pattern known to man (or cat). It is there from the first thought: thoughts of breakfast and the curious tactility of the snooze button; silently reading tweets marked #prayforjapan and feeling guilty about being here where we should thank our lucky stars, yes all 5 of them; to getting a seat in the train on a Monday because it’s the school holidays (exit through the world’s number one airport); thoughts of “oh-God-I-need-coffee but I also need to check Instagram I just need to because who knows if people are liking my photos without me knowing”; composing WhatsApp messages with emoticons intentionally curated so that you don’t come off like some robot circa Isaac Asimov; reading the paper and feeling angry and thinking thoughts somewhat-slightly-quasi political in nature and then getting that paranoid android feeling like even your mind might have some CCTV-like thing so you better stop thinking, better to write them instead and pass them off as art, because lately it seems like that’s the safest place to say dangerous things, with permission of course (of course); conversations about dinner – anywhere is good, and yes no pork no lard is okay with me -; and to round it off, tie all the loose ends: think of your day and whether this has/has not (delete where appropriate) been a blip in your very short existence.

Why yes, it is that sort of Monday. How did you know?

ps: Here’s a link to the Singapore Red Cross, if you are in a position to help.

Written by Nabilah

March 14, 2011 at 10:33 pm

Posted in writing

6 Responses

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  1. Hmm…certain bits of your post reminded me of nineteen eighty four :\


    March 15, 2011 at 12:12 am

  2. boxes are for breaking out of! 🙂

    this too shall pass.


    March 16, 2011 at 5:35 pm

  3. […] its something like bleargh […]

  4. […] published on chai+biskut on 14 March […]

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