Scratches as proof.
I just realized that I often start off my posts with 'So I was on the bus', so I decided to start off with 'I just realized that I often start off my posts with 'So I was on the bus', so I decided to start off with'.
So I was on the bus 2 days back when I saw a couple on the bus. Normally people sit their full seat if they manage to get one because they paid for their transport, but the guy was crushing the girl's petite frame(we can postulate their normal sex positions from this). Then there was this scene in which his hand seemed to be roaming around/on/in her nether regions. Being a voyeur I managed to pay attention to them despite the songs in my head(yes I'm finally back to listening to songs) and I tried to sit straighter so that I'd have a better angle to look down into what they were doing.
But my attempt and it left everything to imagination. His left shoulder was overlapping her right shoulder, and his elbow seemed to be very near her right boob. Then suddenly, his right hand reached out to her and grabbed at something, to which she giggled. Then I saw..
..a handphone on the dude's right hand.
Then I realized that taking things at face value is really too superficial. No one likes being labelled because they 'appear' to be part of that label, and for all I know the couple probably haven't had any form of sexual contact, but it's the way they were acting in public/pubic areas that made normal humans think that way.
I am normal.
I was also thinking about how names of countries were derived. Why is America named America? Why is China named China? Why is Asia named Asia?
I think it's probably just random names thought up by random people. Why would 'Zhong Guo' suddenly become 'China'? Does the name China sound imposing? All-encompassing? Awe-inspiring? I don't think so, but why did the name 'China' come about then? Is it a random English name given by the English people which the Chinese at that time couldn't be bothered to get rid of? Isn't it weird that when we have no power when we are named, much like how Philippines was named simply after a king.
(By the way, that particular king supposedly suffers from syphilis. I read about it in those 'Quote of the week' in Straits times, about how a politician wants to change the name of the country.)
What defines our names then? What people call us, what our parents call ourselves, or what we call ourselves? But what's in a name? Does a name provide some sort of protection, like if a person is called Handsome does he have to be handsome, or if a person is called King, would he have a majestic aura to protect him?
By the way, those names do exist, some humans are really called 'Handsome'/'King'.
I think perhaps an NRIC number would serve as a better name than most. At least no one would bother with another persons' name, nor bother with the meaning behind the name and by extension whether there's anything in their name worth living up for.
Which reminds me--doesn't that make names much like NRIC numbers? They are given to you and you can't change it, and even if you do it's already on your birth certificate and that can't be changed. It's like some legally binding thing, irrefutable whether you like it or not.
At least then people won't be self-obsessed with names like I am. Really, why is Asia Asia? Why is Japan Japan, and not Nippon? Can they make up their minds which name they'd rather be called? Wtf man.
As names and behaviours shape our identity, so do our faces. It was an eventful Monday, with the couple on the bus while I was thinking about names, and an eventful evening as I watched the movie 'Face off'.
For the ignorant, the plot revolves around 2 men, one a cop and one a villain. The cop took the villain's face, who was in an unconscious state, to gain info, but the plan backfired and the villain took over the cop's face and assumed the cop's identity.
What can one do to prove one's identity if one's identity is based purely on how he looks? Let's say I had a nasty experience with acid and destroyed my face and looked completely different and my voice changed coz I..drank the acid(?). What can I do to prove that I'm Zoey then? I can't. But I am. And there's a need for everyone to know that I am because my identity is important, I need it back to carry on with my life--how else am I going to go home if my parents think I'm not Zoey?
OK that's kinda off-topic and impossible to happen in real life, because if you get injured you get sent to the hospital. But I'm trying to be imaginative here, like if someone exchanged EZ-link cards with you and ran away to...loan money from loan sharks before running away. Too bad for you then.
Talking about behaviour reminds me of my sudden desire to submit to societal norms. The enemy was at the gates on Wednesday evening and I went to shit in Northpoint toilets. Reminds me of all the hankypanky I've ever done there, but that's not the main point.
I was taught at a young age that fecal matter is actually a sign of good fortune, because you generally have to be well fed to even be able to shit a lot. And being well-fed is definitely good fortune. There was this once I went to my uncle's house for a stay over because I was that bored. OK I can't really recall why we did that but it's probably because we were young and...bored. Then I had an enemy-at-the-gates moment and I went to shit. And I wondered how that big pile of poop managed to escape from my small anus. It was weird but it happened and it was quite a smooth transition some more. This could prove that shit can actually be compressed--ha sucker scientists, take that!<--here's another matter that's neither liquid nor solid!
But yea, when I went home and told my mum that she told me 'aiyo no wonder they so rich coz you shit in their house'. Or something along those lines. From then on I made a vow to shit at home as much as I can because that'd be accumulating good fortune for my family and I want my family to prosper and live healthy, wealthy, and wise.
I'm not sure how much that worked out because as you can see I failed my NAPFA.
But the idea is there.
Oh I'm sidetracking. So I took a dump at the toilet, and I was thinking of actually taking a picture of how much fortune I've deposited at the shopping centre, but I failed to because there was already a piece of toilet paper covering what could've been deposited at home. And when I stood up, the automated toilet flush..automated. It was terrible watching all the good fortune flushed down the sewers just like that, but I guess that's life and I'd just have to suck on it.
I don't think I'd have posted a picture of my shit on my blog anyway, it'd have been too disgusting...maybe not.
You probably have already forgotten why I started writing about fortune cookies and..cookies in general, but I haven't gotten to the point about my sudden desire to conform to societal normas. So after taking a dump and boosting the economy in Northpoint, I had this sudden itch. My inner thighs were on fire and I had to put them out with my fire but I couldn't because we were in the foodcourt and it's unhealthy to do something that obscene in a sacred place for consumption of food. I tried my best to tame my itch with pure willpower, but since I'm lacking in that I'm not sure how well that worked out.
It was a horrible experience. I was glad to be home, just to put out my fire(s).
Inappropriate itches, seriously.
And on the bus the itch got so bad I didn't know how to fall asleep. I fell asleep anyway but it wasted precious minutes of nap-time because I was contemplating scratching and whether humans were looking or not.
What happened to me =\ why do I care? A sudden collapse of my unnaturally thick hide? I hope I get my balls back soon. It's undergoing maintenance now.
-- 4/13/2010 12:27:00 AM
