Quarter life crisis

I think I'm having a quarter life crisis, not so much instigated by the coming-of-age but the recent occurrence of events that have caused me to lose hope in humanity.

It is telling that now, whenever I garner enough will to write something on my blog, it is inevitably another depressing castigation of modern day society and the humans that perpetuate all that is wrong with it.

I fucking hate humans. And at first, I hate that I hated humans. I used to love people. Genuinely loved people. Saw beauty, intellect, and passion in even the most boring motherfuckers. Could hold any conversation with anybody and trick myself into becoming interested in a conversation about the randomest shit like gardening. Knitting. IT networks. Your favourite make-up brand. Your mundane career achievements that you think are so brilliant. And withstand that shit for an hour because I will be genuinely, invested.

And now, I really couldn't give a flying fuck. I can't do it anymore. I don't even want to pretend. I just want to say "Shut the fuck up" and leave the room. Or better yet, stay in the room. Stay in that very position, but turn around and eat another party pie while you gawk like the stupid, B-class yuppie that you are.

Wow. You know. I really just can't humour people anymore. Or at least I don't want to. Maybe I still put up the barest sliver of effort - but soon, I feel I'm going to give way to my nascent new personality. That of a cynic. And therefore, not feel the need to comply with social de rigeur and smile politely while you spew absolute bullshit fuckery into my face. I would love to curl up all that crap into a fireball and launch it right back at you; jam it so far down your throat you don't know what hit you. Because by god, someone needed to do it. And at some point, you needed to learn how boring or I guess, fake and incompetent you are.

Yeah. I don't know how I'm going to keep being alive for another fifty years when I now realise how ridiculously disappointing and flawed and disgusting humans are.

So driven by selfishnes and egotism. Insecurities and self-delusion.

Fuck.

You know. When you've dealt with people like that, it is the most exhausting thing in your life. It really does change you. And now I know how people become such nihilistic, negative, cynical shits. It's because of other people being so shit.

And the guys and girls around me who are like "hah the world isn't so bad!!! People need to stop being so negative" - yeah. Well, you know, they're kind of lucky they've never had to deal with such shitty ass people. Like, really. You're so lucky. God, I envy you.

You never had someone who was so bad, they just turn everything you ever believed in on its head, and which makes you kind of scared.

Because you put so much trust into that person, and you saw so much greatness in them - only to be betrayed by the venom that also existed alongside that very greatness.

See. People are like that. They can have dual sides to them. A multidimensional fucking thing going on because that's what humans are. They can be so amazing. And so ridiculously bad at the same time. And when you're new to this shit, it takes time to realise - wowwwwwwwwww this person that I thought was SO AMAZING is actually the biggest fucking waste of a time I've ever experienced. Sexist. Racist. Violent. Whatever. It's like women who fall for guys who end up beating them. There may actually be so many other amazing things about this man, but it just so happens that he also beats his wife.

And the saddest thing is when the wife tries to help 'change' him, because she still loves him.

Anyway.

It's kind of weird using that analogy. Because the person who betrayed me was not like that - you know - not violent.

I never even dated him.

He was just a best friend that I really really loved, who ended up revealing his true colours - he was racist, misogynist, disrespectful to so many others, cheated on so many partners, lied to his friends and lied to himself. He lied so fully to himself that he believed in those lies. And what could I do, but watch him descend into an abyss of self-destruction that even he was partly conscious of.

I think if it were just this one time, that I had a friend like that, I would be ok. I would still be the same person.

But you know what shits me. The fact that I had another friend who had such similar issues. That I basically had to coach and mother throughout the friendship until I realised he wasn't able to change, and I removed myself from a mentally draining and frankly, abusive cycle.

Just WHAT THE FUCK.

Then there was the guy, who deluded himself into thinking... no. I can't even go on.

The list is too long.

I have a lot of great, great friends. Intelligent, respectful, deep friends. But because I had been such an immensely trusting, friendly and open person, I also ended up exposing myself to so many toxic fucking people. And then I realised how many men were out there (I mean let's be honest, they're usually men) who can be so charming and whatever when you interact with them briefly, day to day... and you get to know them more and discover how fucked they are.

And yeah. I guess, the accumulation of all that... has just taken its toll. Finally.

I have felt myself change so much the past few months.

And whatever. Like, I'm fine. I'm still high-functioning. I'm just really disappointed. So disappointed. And I was scared that I had been changing so much - having these thoughts about humanity and how shit people were. I was like wow that's not me! and then I panicked because I was scared I was becoming depressed. When really, I was just growing the fuck up because of what happened.

It was soooo weird feeling myself becoming introverted, when before I had been so massively extroverted. The sort of person someone would say "Her? Shy? No fucking way. She's fucking wild lol." And now I'm the person whom my boss is like "A quiet member of the team, but the most organised."

Jesus chrisssssssssssst. What am I becoming.

I don't fucking know. I mean, I have some idea. But will my cynicism ever end? Will this massive pot of disappointment that I have brewing inside me like some fucking potion about to explode, ever retreat to a manageable simmer?

I mean maybe right now, it's manageable. Maybe I'm not even that bad, compared to people like my current boyfriend, who was way more pessimistic and cynical as a person than I was.

Ah. Idk. Idk.

what is life

I don't know how to feel anymore. 

The more I know, the more I understand that humans are chaotic, greedy, stubborn and selfish. Doomed by their own nature to repeat the worst of history. 

I want to withdraw myself from the world, and just reside in a warm cocoon of cotton candy, masticating slowly on the walls around me, and intermittently basking in the luxury of inconsequential over-sleep to become the literal embodiment of the metaphorical, modern millennial. 

Every time the television comes on, or I open my phone to check the news on Facebook, my brain is attacked by an onslaught of white noise. It makes me feel veritgo. Dizzy and sick. 

For someone who is so good at bonding with people, I end up hating people. I am just so exhausted. Why are there so many idiotic people in this world, without any basic compassion for their fellow humans? Without any nuance and mindfulness to their worldviews??

No. No. I don't want to think about it.

Life is a constant struggle and thinking about these big questions will make you drown faster. All we can hope for is that our hard work pays off - in the form of a lifesaving jacket so we can bob along, heads above water, not drowning but not particularly comfortable either.

My head literally hurts.

Dousing the fire.

Vastness of water
Oscillating waves
A velvety symphony
Of blue, green, and grey
Festooned by a ribbon of white foam
In which I cast my desperate nets
Seeking new life
Avoiding your wretched gaze
Steering into the marine ataraxis
I escape, escape, escape
The raging inferno within your body
A red that flickers with passion and pain
These fulvous explosions ignited
With your dark, ravenous eyes
I now douse the longing
That conquered my heart, enslaved my brain
It hurt, it burns, it still singes where we kissed
My skin shrivels and sighs
At the thought of your voice in my ear
Of your fingertips on my wrists
But now I leave you behind
You and your halo of flames
An angel screaming in the firepit
That I finally escaped.

Let us drive into the vermillion sunset

It was Proust
Who said those wise words
Remembrance of things past
is not necessarily
Remembrance of things as they were
So help me see the truth
Help me be free
Help me forget those false pictures
Help me remember to breathe
Lead me onto the road to nowhere
On a torrid summer afternoon
Past the boulevard with the rollerblading lovers
And highways adorned with palm trees
Let's keep driving, escaping, disappearing
A hundred miles across the silent coarse desert
Another a hundred by the murmuring soft sea
Let us drive into the vermillion sunset
with reckless abandon, with dangerous speed
Make me fucking feel again
Make me shout, make me bleed
out all of the emptiness
that still afflicts me
Then underneath a blanket of glittering stars
Please take me in a wordless embrace
Lying on the bonnet of an 84 Testarossa
Staring into the darkest pockets of deep space
As balmy zephyrs caress our cheeks
And the crickets come out to play
I'll let go of all those memories
that caused me so much pain.

Murder

Like roadkill
Dead
Red
Scorched alive
Drowned in own blood
Left to die
Ripped pelage
Intestines
A host to ants
A magnet for flies
A parallax of death
Cloaked by the night
Placenta for the earth
Assault on the eyes
This is a dead man
No longer has a face
Life unjustly beaten away
By the cruelty and prejudice
Of strangers passing by
Saw him as an animal
They left him to die
Body rotting
Sinking deep
Into the dirt
He now seeps
Somewhere faraway
In the dark
His lover lies
And begins to weep

We're finally free.

I can see it. I can hear it. I can feel it.

The winds that susurrate through these streets.

And the birds that fly above these buildings.

The sound of water lapping gently toward the sand. 

The magnificent blood orange torch of a setting sun, beaming across the horizon.

A light so intense you can feel it glow on your skin.

The ability to love and be loved.

The small smile on his face. His human smile.

So fragile and full of emotion, yet a heart so strong and withstanding of the greatest obstacles.

We let our fingertips touch as we stare into his world, and leave mine behind forever.

To him

I woke up crying from this dream I just had. It was very vivid, and there was one scene where I was standing on a bridge in the city, bordered by a transparent criss cross facade on one side, like the ceiling above H&M at Chadstone. It was sunrise. As I was walking down ever so slowly, not even sure why I was on this bridge, I could feel so strongly the sunlight and shadows, as filtered through the facade, dance across my skin. I could feel the soft touch of the morning breeze, and closed my eyes to the first trickle of Chinese tourists that were oohing and aahing in the background, admiring what must be a beautiful cityscape behind me. I stood there facing the facade, and closed my eyes, breathing in very slowly - my body enveloped by this warm glow of light.

A voice had whispered to me 'karma will come, don't do to others what you wouldn't want them to do to you'. And for some reason, in this dream, I had apparently cut off all ties with my friends. I had lashed out, insulted them, hurt them, turned them away. And when I opened my eyes again, and saw them materialise before me, I could see from each of their faces that I was alone, and nobody would ever speak to me again. I called out to them, but they walked away, some of them hurling abuse, giving me what I had given them.

From that scene, I dreamt that I had woken up in bed next to my high school friend (whom I caught up with yesterday irl). I was sobbing uncontrollably and reaching for a glass of water while she groggily sat up and patted me on the back, saying 'it's alright, it's just a dream, I still love you'. And she went back to bed.

Through my sobs, I got out of bed and walked to the balcony. I heard his voice. He walked onto the balcony from a different entryway, carrying some sort of clipboard, checking off things with two guys who looked like renovators. I could tell he was happy, and when he saw me, his eyes lit up so bright and an impossibly goofy smile unravelled on his face. He greeted me cheerfully, but I continued to sob like a devastated child, telling him about my dream and that everybody hates me.

He laughed in a comforting way, and then said "What! Don't be silly Cindy, of course we love you, you doofus! I love you." And then he hugged me.

Then I really woke up. And I woke up with real tears in my eyes. And I thought about all the little things and big things that he did for me. Every single time he picked me up, bought me food, told me I was beautiful, and tried to be a better person for me. Every time he smiled at me, called me stupid names with that goofy but unadulterated look of love on his face. Of a joy so pristine and peaceful.

We were two people at two different places in our lives, with mismatched values that didn't mesh well long term. Me unable to treat him as well as he treated me was a major reason why I had to do it for both of our sakes.

But I will always, always remember that smile. And no matter what I do in my life, and where I am, I will still love him - as a friend. I feel bad that I had hurt him so deeply, or caused him to feel so much resentment. But with him, I had some of the happiest and most peaceful moments in my life.

Pact

We watched as the car burned and melted. 

"Do you think maybe, we shouldn't have had that much to drink?" he asked. 

I couldn't take my eyes off the wreckage. 

"Yeah, probably," I mumbled.

The flames seared the bonnet of the totalled car and the smell of metal and gasoline became overwhelming. I remember reading somewhere, that space smelled like burned metal.

"We should probably get away from it for now," he suggested. I immediately agreed, but then asked him what we should do if the trees caught fire. I said I'd feel bad if that happened.

"Well, I don't think it will. But even if it did...would it really matter after tonight?"

I didn't answer, but merely shook my head to signify no - it didn't matter if people found out. Nothing would matter anymore. 

Hand in hand, we left what used to be his mother's car combusting on the side of the dirt path and walked toward the forest, deeper and deeper into an abyss. 

He flicked open the heavy duty torch and shone the path before us. 

The foliage wasn't too dense. The trees grew more sparsely in this area, allowing plenty of moonlight to seep through.

Soon enough, we reached the lake. 

It was beautiful. There was a full moon tonight. Its reflection a perfect mirror on the still water. 

We stood there and admired the scene before us for what seemed like an eternity. Breathed it all in.

He wrapped his fingers around my hand even more tightly. I looked at him, then he looked at me. Our eyes interlocking into a fiery trance.

"Let's do it," I exhaled. 

"Okay."

From the back of his trousers, tucked into his belt, he brings out the gun - his father's vintage revolver. The barrel was polished so shiny and black. The light hit it just right so that it seemed to glimmer like a jewel. I didn't know if that was just my mind playing tricks on me. 

With my heart pumping desperately, I watched him raise the barrel to his chin, angling it right. 

He waited a minute of silence between us, his eyes watering up as he returned my nervous stare. 

"I love you," he finally whispered. 

Then he pulled the trigger. And I felt his blood splatter across my face.  

Tears fell uncontrollably. My entire body heaved with ugly sobs and gasps. My knees weak, I knelt down next to his body, lying there so peacefully in the grass. I slowly unclasped the revolver from his hand. Then I brought it to my temple, my index finger caressing the trigger.

I looked up and admired, for the final time, the cluster of stars that lit up this part of the night sky.

I want to go out and not have to bring a purse.

I want to wear baggy jeans, an old oversized sweatshirt, and take a long drag of my cigarette while I lean on a balcony and the wind billows through my hair in the night.

I want to breathe in, and feel like things are moving in slow motion.

I want to feel curious, and enamoured by everyone and everything.

I know my heart will beat fast, but my mind will be slow.

And that nothing really matters but right here and now. 

I will feel the balmy summer breeze on my cheeks and neck. 

Watch an old street lamp flicker like a flame.

Then close my eyes. Tilt my head back slightly.

And feel an overwhelming calmness. 

Like I'm standing in front of an ocean. 

Watching the sun set across an iridescent horizon.

Glimmering tantalisingly. Red, orange, and blue.

So peaceful. 

So free of noise and bullshit. 

And when I open my eyes, I'll see the white moon in the black night sky above me. 

I'll wonder about the universe, and aliens, and other planets.

A vast space unexplored.

I'll rest my cigarette, and take another sip of whiskey. 

80s synthwave playing in the background. 

S E X

Two nights ago at the dinner table, I accidentally made my family sit through (at least) ten seconds of Andrew McCarthy pretending to perform cunnilingus on actress Jami Gertz in the 1987 film Less Than Zero. 

I should have known better than to watch a film adapted from a Bret Easton Ellis novel (he also wrote American Psycho) with my parents... I actually didn't even know what was happening at first, because the scene was so dark and the angle so weird. All I heard and saw were some mushy kissing noises, heavy breathing, some flesh, and random bits of cloth.

Then I realised that that was the back of Andrew McCarthy's head gyrating between Gertz's legs, underneath her skirt. Wow. And there we all were, me and my super conservative quinquagenarian Chinese parents eating fried prawns and chewing on pork trotters while watching a young woman scream in pleasure.

I eventually awkward laughed and changed the channel, having only waited an excruciating ten seconds because I thought okay, this is an eighties film, surely there would be nothing so explicit and this would be over in like 0.5 seconds. I was wrong. Ahh the liberalism of western pop culture.

But the whole time I figured - hey, my conservative Chinese parents need to accept that I often watch movies with a bit (and sometimes a lot) of sex in it. Plus, seeing young people have brazen extemporaneous sex would be one way of getting them to realise that sexual desire should not be something to feel ashamed about, and sex before marriage is a common thing, at least in the country where we live. Most importantly, that it doesn't make a woman some sort of dirty, grotesque demimonde. My morally anachronistic mother likes to describe these women as, 'an unwrapped, used, regifted present that no man in their right mind would accept'.

beautiful

I'm glad I'm not fucked up like she is about this stuff

but honestly, it's surprising how I still know people my age that subscribe to such bullshit moral standards