Lunar New Year Eve 2k7

I am finally home after weeks and weeks of wanting to get away from everything here. And, I have found that it is rather amazing what the human mind is capable of when put to astonishingly prolonged lengths of stress. Perhaps it was a wonder that I did not find me going nuts on myself; but if there is any most convenient sign of someone cracking, it is the speech and logic that usually goes first. Luckily for me, I am still retaining a rather commendable portion of both faculties, up till now, at least.

The trip home was fraught with frustration. I was already carrying some vestige of annoyance brought forth by a worse-than-normal day in school; and I had to run around the Malaysian Immigration Checkpoint for about half an hour lugging an extremely heavy bag (which conveniently, had its wheels badly spoilt). By the time the bus got there (which also meant I spent the last half an hour being a bumbling idiot), my arms felt like jelly and I was more than pissed at their lateness.

After the highly enlightening session with the bus, the next port of call was home, where I was greeted by a message from Cowan asking me to call him urgently. What for, however, was left out of the message. By returning the call, I winded up going to watch Ghost Rider (quite good actually, although if I discount the effetcs, the movie suddenly turns very mindless) and shopping for clothes (something I did not imagine I had to do when I went out with guys).

The next day was Chinese New Year’s Eve, and I went down to my grandfather’s house at Tiong Nam (my grandmother initially offered to bring my brother, who was not overly fond of the place, and I to my aunt’s reunion dinner, but it was clearly against tradition, and furthermore, my aunt was not wholly comfortable with the idea). There, I had a long philosophical chat with my uncle and father which as always, wound up with the normal argument that I am too young and naive to comprehend those experiences which has changed them to from the skeptic I am now to the believers they are. Honesty, the more I hear that phrase, the more I am determined to hold on to my current beliefs even when a time comes when I experience what they did (or perhaps I am just bloody stuborn – a trait inherited from my maternal grandfather, I guess).

By the time the whole round of dinner, merrymaking, socialising and red packet receiving was over, it was eight and my brother, as usual, pleaded to go home (more like demanded, but it does not make much difference). And here, I expect to go on with the whole ‘tired but happy’ ending that I normally use in the countless compositions I have written since I was young. It was actually more like an ‘I-reach-home-and-started-trying-to-enjoy-myself-and-sms-and-not-bother-about-my-homework” kind of ending. Heck, truth is never as poetic as fiction.

And yeah, a Happy Chinese New Year to all.

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