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Smokes and reading

Feb. 8th, 2015 | 09:53 pm

I've recently taken to reading in the stairwell outside the apartment. Tonight I heard the stairwell door upstairs open and close, and then I detected smoke from a cigarette. As much as I hate the smell of it, I feel a certain kinship for this anonymous lone smoker.

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Nudist telepaths and time-travelling, evil doppelgangers

Feb. 4th, 2015 | 10:37 pm

I have always had vivid dreams. Sometimes they feel like very entertaining, self-contained TV show plots, and other times they come with entire backstories, as if there have been prequels and lead-up movies to the single story I dreamt.

Early this morning, I had a dream that I was working in a campus in some kind of administrative role. The school was like Xavier's School For Gifted Children, only that this campus had adult students too, and they weren't all well-adjusted. In my dream, it was orientation day, and all the students were out and about, getting to know the campus; shape-shifters and telekinetics, and all kinds of mutants. Most of them looked quite regular.

And then there were the telepaths. A lot of them were walking around in the nude for some reason, and a very high number of them were really and truly weird, as if they had no idea how to be human at all.

Afterward, when awake, I started wondering about the nudist telepaths. Why were the walking around undressed? And immediately, as if I had the entire backstory downloaded into my brain, the answer came - by breaking with social norms, it helped them keep some distance between themselves and the rest of humanity and their encroaching, noisy thoughts.

And the reason why so many of them acted so strange was because a lot of them grew up not being able to separate their own thoughts from those of others. Imagine being a newborn and hearing adult thoughts, and not knowing how to shield yourself. The telepaths who were well-adjusted had at least one parent who had the same ability (very rare, since so many telepaths were so weird and socially disassociated that very few of them could have normal relationships, much less get married). They knew that their telepath progeny needed constant, round-the-clock protection until they got older - a very expensive, resource-intensive endevour. When you saw the rare, well-adjusted telepath, you knew you were looking at someone who was came from a family of enormous means. They were very rare, but soon, there would be more and more of these "normal" telepaths, because there were funds being set up by collectives of telepaths who would invest in identifying and developing the telepath community to become more well-adjusted.

Anyway, back to the dream. I was running around trying to keep track of the students. It was hectic and busy, but all of a sudden, I had a moment of complete and unexplainable horror. I heard someone call my name. I looked up, and the person who had called my name was standing in front of me looking beyond me, a look of confusion on his face. And I just knew that there was another version of me standing behind me; older and... different. I turned to look, but the space was empty, and the feeling was gone. Somehow I knew that an alternative or a future-version of myself had broken the laws of space and time and maybe even dimensions, and come to see me. I didn't know how or why, but I did know something very clearly: that version of me was completely evil.

There was no indication on the purpose of the visit. Did Evil Me have something of importance to relay to me? Or maybe it was an entirely nostalgic visit - one last look at the person she used to be before embarking on some epically damning mission. Or maybe Evil Me just wanted a hug.

In any case, I'm actually glad I didn't get to meet evil me (even in the dream), because I'm sure that if I asked for an explanation on why I had turned to the dark side, I'd be completely sold.


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A slim waiting tortoiseshell by the road-divider

Apr. 26th, 2012 | 01:47 am

Tonight after dining with B&M near my office, while we walked towards the taxi stand to grab a ride home, I saw an elderly Sikh gentleman feeding some community cats. My friend who lives in the block where my office is had told me before of an Indian man who has been faithfully feeding the stray cats on the area, so I decided to cross the road and say hello.

I admired the cats, asked for his name and his number. He told me he'd been feeding the cats for over 20 years, while he was working with an organisation which was next to the building where I worked. Now as a retiree, he returned to the former place of his work twice a day - at 5:30 AM and 9 PM - to feed these stray cats that didn't really belong to anyone.

He told me: "Once a day is not enough. I feed the cats on this side of the road, and then I cross the road to feed those other cats. They all run out to me when they hear my scooter. Look, do you see them waiting?"

I look across the road, and there's a slim tortoiseshell sitting patiently by a road divider, watching him as he scoops out kibble onto newspaper to feed her brethren.

I don't really know if I feel happy or sad. I know I feel grateful, and at the same time apprehensive about what will happen to the cats when the gentleman is no longer able to feed them. I might move away, things might change. It's a little bit like nostalgia, this sense of appreciation and sadness.

I get his name and number before I cross the road to pet the tri-coloured cat. She won't let me touch her, but she rubs herself ecstatically against the road divider that instructs drivers to turn left into the parking facility.

B&M are very understanding about the whole deal, having waited for me the entire duration. 

"It was interesting to watch," they ventured, when I apologized about, taking so long.  
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Haunted Doraemon Rock

Feb. 21st, 2012 | 12:10 pm

I had a couple of funny dreams last night - the one I remembered first was of a haunted rock. And not any rock either - it had a naturally-occurring squiggle in it that if you looked at hard enough, KINDA looked like a Doraemon illustration. It was like trying to decipher the image of Jesus in a tortilla.

So anyway, this palm-sized rock would get visitors who would squint at it and ooh and ahh when they finally made out the crooked suggestion of Doraemon. Somehow all this visits imparted some sort of sentience on the rock, and one day, it decided it would go around and do its OWN visitations, dammit. Also, it decided to grow to the height of a full grown person.

Cut to scenes of people eating dinner at home and looking up to see a GIANT, CROOKED DORAEMON FACE staring in through the window. THE END.

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Beautiful mind

Jan. 9th, 2012 | 10:15 pm

On Sunday, someone told me I had a "...beautiful mind." It kinda made my day : )

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Dead cow

Jan. 8th, 2012 | 05:01 pm

Wally this morning, while trying to push my somnolent body to the side: "You're heavier than a dead cow!"

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Nov. 17th, 2011 | 10:08 pm

Wally, after having heard me mangle a song: "It's OK, baby. Yours is a visual medium."

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God and corgis

Jul. 9th, 2011 | 01:15 am

 Wally, on seeing seeing an impossibly cute corgi puppeh from http://corgiaddict.com/. "Wah, God really knows how to make em!"

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On being a valuable person

Jul. 24th, 2010 | 10:25 pm

Ever since Kathy moved to NZ, we've been staying in touch over GChat. Sometimes we have very funny conversations. Here's a peek into such a conversation dated 21 July 2010.

Kathy: how was the straightening of you yesterday? (She's talking about my visit to the chiropractor)

me: Very crunchy. Sounded like the chiro was crushing peanut shells in my back

Kathy: eek ! is it painful?

me: Not really. But uncomfortable at times

Kathy: poor monsty! you suffer so! poor thing !

me: Suffer for straightness, which other people take for granted!

Kathy: yes! indeed !

me: But I take it because I have been promised a half inch of height at the end of it all. HEIGHT!

Kathy: hahaa ! HEIGHT ! oh i take that for granted too !

me: That's why we are such good friends! What I have, you don't! namely shortness and crookedness of back!

Kathy: but you are compact ! you have greater dollar value to each square inch ! my square inches are cheap in comparison when spread across my entire kathytron

me: Hahahahhaha! I have higher density of value! I love that!

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Ocean reaching fingers into an ancient seaside town

Jul. 13th, 2010 | 03:00 am

Written 1 June 2010: 01:19 AM

I dreamt of an ancient seaside town (Turkish, Italian, Mediterranean?), dusty, golden, jewel colours. The people were dusky skinned. I was a traveller.

The town had canals carved into it, as if the ocean was reaching fingers into it. The canals were full of sea water, dark and blue, deep and framed by rocks. Nobody thought anything special about these fissures of water in their town, but I was fascinated by them, jumped into them to swim. The water was cold, and very deep, and I knew despite being in a town, I was swimming in the ocean, and beneath me in the water was nothing for leagues and leagues before darkness and the ocean bed. It reminds me of the Blue Hole in Belize.

My guide jumped into One of the canals with me. I looked around, tried to find a way out, but he said I could not climb my way out, I'd have to ride my way out to sea. The water was sluicing out through an arch, into a tunnel, over which the town had been built.

Below, dark and blue mystery. Above; dusty and sunny, scurrying life.

I let the water sweep me out under the along with my guide, and above me was a small neighborhood grocery shop, with patrons in slippers, bags of chips hanging from the doors and sausages hanging from the ceiling. the tunnel was long, but seemed to be built for people to be swept out on, because the ceiling was high enough, and my head never once went under water, or got smashed against the sides, even though the water was running very fast.

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