absolutum dominium

in pure dramatic hardy-ian fashion, it should be raining. although it isn't, the weather suits the grey gloomy atmosphere of hardy-ian novels nonetheless; it's cold and foggy and all we lack is the giant stone statue of a fallen angel such tt we can fall to our knees and weep.

my imagination is being far too active again, and i apologise. i feel like everything is harkening back to jude the obscure and the scene where sue rejects jude the final time for the other guy, bad sex and self-flagellation, even though she really loves jude.

but heaven forbid, i want to be neither sue nor jude. both sad, depressed and depressing, not to mention severely psychologically fucked-up characters.

but tt being said, there is a degree of psychological fucked-upness within each and everyone of us.

i was complaining to someone about why i couldn't just be a complete rational and let go the way i know i should. it's like what my mom says: "if you know how to pick it up, you should know how to put it down." referred to everything from inanimate objects to the more intangible stuff.

the answer i got: maybe coz tt's what makes us human.

yeah. sometime i wish my name was angie the android and i didn't have the 'feeling' areas in my brain. well, apparently if i damage some part of my temporal lobes i'll become completely unself-aware like those grade a societal jerks. i won't be a very fun companion to be around coz i would probably be a complete pain in the ass, but at least i would be blissfully ignorant.

life isn't the stuff of fairy tales. you know, tt's what so many of my friends have been saying to me. tt's what *he* has fucking been saying to me.

the "poor guy meets rich upper-class girl" type fairy tale. the pauper and the princess. stuff like tt (this is probably the only time you will see the word 'princess' on my blog again. i have a thing against girls who call themselves princesses coz it stimulates my gag reflex).

except tt according to yuwei: "love doesnt conquer all. it only does in fairytales involving overtly fair princesses, perverted dwarves, princes with foot fetishes, and deformed step-siblings." (i love this line. it's so hilarious. it gives me this image in my head of some dark porno fairy land where the "se7en rule" [ask me about it if i haven't told you about my theory yet] reigns supreme and short but long dwarves prance along looking for pale white girls trying to escape their evil stepmothers to erm... get it on with... speaking of which, read neil gaiman's take on 'snow white' in his "stardust" and other stories book. it's so perverted tt you will never see her (or any other disney-friendly princess again).

and tt's what he said too. tt in this society, it doesn't always work out tt way.

actually yuwei, you're right. the money doesn't matter to me. the class doesn't matter to me. i did a whole period of soul-searching and i asked myself so many questions about what was important to me, and i knew tt no matter what was important to me, his money wasn't in tt equation. i'd already said so many times tt i never needed my guy to buy me dinners or movies or gifts, i didn't need to live in some 3-storey bungalow in bukit timah with 2 cars, a border collie and 3 kids (okay. i think it's 2.1 kids now). i can buy my own meals, my own movies, my own goddamned car and house and future.

but the truth is, it mattered to him. he felt tt he was the one disappointing me. he felt the expectations and the pressure, even though i never gave him any.

in the end, what the fuck could i do? what the fuck can i possibly fucking do if you won't fucking do anything yourself? if you fucking stay away, if you fucking distance yourself from me and tell me tt you don't want to talk to me because you feel frustrated coz i have money to do whatever i want and you don't? because you don't fucking feel good enough for me even though i've told you a million and one times to screw the money coz i don't give a flying fuck about tt?

oh yeah. i'm past the depression stage now. not exactly past; in my normal manic-depressive fashion i'll probably have extreme mood swings ranging from completely crashed out when it gets cold and lonely at night to supremely boiling mad wanna-take-a-parang-and-chase-after-you-with-it when i wake up in the morning after a whole night of troubled dreams wondering what the fuck is wrong with the both of us. i can foresee this going on for a while.

sigh.

but yes. right now i am angry. i think tt if i weren't 16, 000 miles away and i really would go after you brandishing a frying pan. i wonder how i would be if i ever get issued a handgun. a future relationship with gun wars included does not bode well.

but i know i have every right to be angry. it's only *now* tt you are talking to me again. saying to me tt now tt the expectations and pressure is off, you can talk to me freely. you can tell me tt i'll have a bright and successful future ahead, tt i am free to go do whatever i want now. tt you can finally tell me tt you love me without feeling the pressure.

ok. amicable break-ups are good. but someone please explain this to me now? i haven't the slightest fucking idea what to make of this. i have an inkling of how to psycho-analyse this and i know i'll probably get it down if i do, but i don't even want to delve into this labyrinth of fucked-up feelings so i would appreciate it if someone can tell me what on earth he is thinking.

and i thought tt women were supposed to be the complicated creatures.

ugh. yes. so moving on.

yes. i have to do stuff. i don't know what yet though. dammit.