and the air is a weight on your shoulders

orchard road a matchstick box, and we the matchstick people.

jostling in the crowd.
‘wahlau who pushed me’ --
--‘bitch!’ --
‘make way and move leh’ --
-- ‘oi! **** lah’
a treetrunk couple lodged in the middle of a human stream

strange how ugly faces swim to the surface in this xmas sea.



xmas eve party was a bit disappointing… quite empty, even phuture had space enough to move around quite freely.

seemin challenged me to get a girl and her number.

somehow… clubbing is more exciting by yourself, but more enjoyable when with friends. When dancing without ppl u know around it feels more liberating, like there’s no one you know and judges you and remembers if you try to chat someone up or dance with someone… more unrestricted somehow. I guess that’s what peer pressure feels like, to accomplish conformist and conventional non-feats, and do utterly important, normal things. And the thing is, we all bend so efficiently and stupidly to societal pressure, so arent we all oxymorons…

I haven't found a way out.
I guess we all need at least some element of conformity to survive.

by the time we left at five I passed her test four times and gotten one number. But looking back I just feel ashamed. That all I had in mind at that time, at most of that entire four-hour-spanning-moment which I felt encompassed the challenge, was to ‘get a girl’. It was fun, yes, quite enjoyable from a normal perspective to dance with someone, but what feels disgusting now is the fact that I felt so impelled to obey, to gain approval, to pass her ‘test’ and not lose face in front of sees and waiyin…

no artificial ingredients or sugar. comes with all-natural fibres. 100 % peer pressure juice.

I wont have it again.