It was quite a draining night.

With the evidence sprewn all over my face.

Patches of red rashes claimed authority, and I couldn’t stop scratching my forehead and cheeks, which are flaking, badly.

Woe is me.

I look like a pimplish teenager. Difference is, I am pimplish, and look nowhere near a teenager.

What an eventful night out.

From the violently stirred pasts that kept surfacing(no worries, there were pleasant ones, definitely).

The hypes from how we teased Tetanus about the way he sashays, and how this girl from the next table was trying to seduce him by constant bending forward, while squeezing a cleavage in between, or consistently grinding the poor chair.

Merry-making when you’re feeling most empty could be quite a demanding feat.

Let’s not go into that.

We are fully-clothed, please.

Inex, and I.

And here, my secondary school classmate, Erica.

Took some pictures with some of the others, but I have not sought permission to post them up as yet.

We left pretty early, cos we were simply not in the right mood to be partying the night away, and we left a very scarlet Tetanus to his harem.

***

Erica, Inex and I shared a cab cos we were staying in the west.

I awed myself with my ability to remember where Erica used to live.

We caught up a lot in the cab, with lotsa intimate details shared.

It was then, the talks got more oomphs in them that Inex suggested supper in the area as to expand the talks into something more in-depth.

No one touched food though as we alighted at the coffee-shop near my place.

I was pretty amazed with the inaccurate versions of rumours going around about me when I was in my late-teens, which Erica had heard when she was in junior college.

Words could kill, I understood, and still understand why.

I went on to hear 2 very charismatic ladies telling me about themselves, seeing parts of me in them.

They had came a long way.

And it is strange, in a nice way, to be looking at someone who is so familiar, yet you are knowing them all over again for the very first time.

I then invited them up to my room.

I made them waited for me outside my place, just so I could do some last minute cleaning up and housekeeping. It was hellava mess cos I hadn’t been home often enough to do some decent housekeeping.

And the 3 of us spent the night together.

Dishevelled hair, rashes, glasses, casually clad.

I contemplated on silencing the 2 babes as they had seen my worst.

The threesome was awesome, my dears.

Yummy.

I shall not illustrate how the old friend of mine squealed orgasmically excitedly as I talked about a certain cutie.

Suddenly, I am indignant that I am still boyfriendless, and worse still, dateless.

***

It was 5.30 in the morning when the 3 hungry beings, exhausted from the lengthy night, craved breakfast.

We walked to the coffeeshop we were at earlier on, for some crispy and tantalising pratas.

The pratas were nice, and we enjoyed much of the meal, as we continued topics we had earlier on.

It was then, the breakkie turned into a hilarious, albeit traumatising event.

I ordered ice-horlicks.

The coffeeshop boy delivered my drink.

Surprise, surprise. He refused to take my money, saying that someone else had picked the tab already.

The 3 of us turned, and could see a couple of ah-bengs, inclusive of the one who delivered the drink.

We continued eating and drinking, pretending nothing had happened.

I bowed my head and was eager to finish my food.

Next thing I knew, Erica who had them in her view told us that some golden-haired basket had sneakily took a shot of me with his handphone.

I kept my head turned away, so I won’t get snapped.

Next thing I know, the indian stall-helper came to our table, and slipped a piece of paper onto it.

‘Call me pls
9367 XXXX
Eric’

We all choked on our pratas and died.

Erm, nearly, that is.

We didn’t touch that piece of paper, and acted nonchalance.

We were tempted to take it. Only for 4-D, Toto, and toilet-scribbling purposes.

We decided we are kind girls and not gamblers, and we left it untouched.

Inex was then thirsty and wanted Soya bean milk.

The rude ones called out ‘Self service’ and justified that it was the policy after 3am.

Guys suck, to the core.

I don’t like ah-bengs.

I must have looked like a handicapped or something for them to serve.

The scrutiny then built up and they lingered around us, like phantoms.

We grew increasingly uncomfortably, and scrambled off, in fear, as the day broke.

It had never happened to me even though I had stayed here for the past 10 years.

Tsk tsk.

Ah well, it was great entertainment, nonetheless.

It has been an amazingly interesting Friday.

Such bittersweet nostalgia that had quicken its pace and caught up with me.

And thereafter, I plunged further into my deep thoughts, reminscing the events that had taken place in the past decades.

Did I not say how I did a little catching up with 3 primary school classmates of mine over MSN? Wenwei, Yaolong and Gaorong.

What followed up was a thought-provoking through-the-night webcam-enhanced chat with Wenwei till 7.30 in the morning.

We have yet to see each other since I last made a trip to Shrewsbury to visit him and Yaolong 7 years ago, when I was still residing near London.

Nothing much changed, except that he had gained more weight, and I repeated the lose-weight-gain-weight-lose-weight-again-gain-weight-again routine for X times in the past years.

We had kept in constant contact but it was the most fulfilling conversation we had had so far that morning. I got a great kick out of it.

It once again, triggered my conflicting urge to hit back the books again.

He threw some questions to me that caught me off-guard, and I amazed myself that I had some ready answers in hand.

He, the ever-encouraging friend, assured me that if it was an entrance interview, I would have been offered a place.

The core question is still, why, and not what.

Lord, guide me, please.

Sometimes, I know the exact reasons why I adore old pals.

***

It was late noon, and I had wanted to (finally) make a trip down to try the chicken rice at Philip’s stall.

A message came in from Bubblemunche Hisreason that he was gonna meet a couple of his ex-colleagues for dinner that evening.

Many moons ago, through some freaky coincidences, I realised one of my secondary school classmates whom I had lost contact with, James, is actually his ex-colleague.

Hence, Hisreason messaged me cos he was meeting my ex-classmate for dinner, and if I wanna crash it to surprise him.

I did.

I shall not mention how I had secretly planned to bring them down to Philip’s stall.

We waited for the very-late ex-classmate of mine, and he strolled in to meet Hisreason, Mr-I-forgot-what-his-name, and me.

He was then introduced to me, and he shook hands with me without much expressions.

As the 2 of them are ‘westerners’, dinner was then settled at Jurong Point, so it would be to their convenience to head home.

We sat down at Billy Bombers’ and the other 2 guys tried to sound him out by asking, ‘I was from XXX secondary school, what school were you from huh?‘

He laughed and replied River Valley.

And the 2 very lousy actors beat around the bush before asking me what school I was from. I giggled cos I knew James was just playing along, yet I still went on to reply I was from River Valley too.

The very lame Mr Hisreason(who was in his uniform again! Woohoo!) then went on to say something along the line, ‘Oh! So coincidental! You two from same school? So which year you graduate huh? Oh same batch?! What class were you from then ah?‘

*Roll eyes*

Apparently, Mr James didn’t quite recognise me in the beginning though he thought I looked rather familiar, and when Hisreason had introduced me to him, my name gave it away and he confirmed it was me.

I hadn’t seen him since we graduated from River Valley some 8 years ago.

Wow.

It was great catching up with him, recollecting how we used to be project mates and how we would copy homework from others.

And how he was the quiet one, who looks gentlemanly with neat and precised handwriting, whilst I was the total opposite of him.

Those were the days.

It was nice, though I wouldn’t say the same about those days in River Valley.

***

The catch-up session dragged on for a while cos Hisreason and I were yakking away, and before I knew it, I was late for cell group last night.

It was supposed to be at 8.30pm, in church.

I disciplined myself from the over-reliance on cabs, and took the train instead.

I alighted at Dhoby Ghaut, and took that familiar route, once again.

The route that reminded me of lotsa tears, hurt, and past.

I walked past the park where I once sat, to watch the buzzing crowd. It was a dark, deserted area at that time of the night, and the buzzing weekend crowd was just feets away it.

I remember this particular day in August last year, where I sat alone on the bench, crying an ocean in such ironic contrast.

The scent and taste from my Dior lipgloss completed the mental picture of the past.

I saw an image of a girl, cuddling her teddy bear, feeling lost, in the midst of the glittery streetlights, after the youth service on a Saturday.

The familiar feelings overwhelmed me again. It wasn’t that I was still holding on to the past, but it was just something, that brought back a familiar feeling.

Like how you could smell a scent, and be reminded of someone you dated.

I saw and sniffed something, that reminded me of my bleakest days.

The day when I wrote this:

好冷。 不是心理作祟。
這一夜﹐就是這樣的。
空氣﹐冷冰冰的。
深深抽了一口。
心跟著寒了﹐ 更冷。
其實﹐心﹐也從來沒暖過。

那股冷流﹐好熟悉。
似乎勾起了些什麼。
嗯﹐沒錯。
他﹐也是冷冰冰的。

而我﹐
遍體鱗傷走在那一條陰暗的街。
一個人。
熙熙攘攘的人群﹐與我﹐形成了強烈的對比。
也不是另一個過客罷了。
而我﹐這一夜﹐
也只屬于那孤寂的街。

很傷。
很痛。
已經體無完膚。

那一夜﹐璀燦的煙火﹐好美。
距離他﹐好近。
感覺上﹐太遠。
望著同樣的一幕﹐
想的﹐一樣嗎﹖
煙火﹐好美。
很遺憾﹐太短暫。
留下的﹐也只是瀰漫在夜空中的過眼雲煙。

結束了﹐很遺憾。太短暫。
沒有所謂的長廂廝守。
童話﹐從未戰勝過現實。
我們﹐也敵不過這一戰。

或許﹐永恆不會如此淒美。

心已如直水。
至少﹐我以為是這樣。
心底的漣漪否定了一切。

至少﹐那一段﹐就象煙火一樣﹐
轟轟烈烈的。
這一片陰霾﹐會過去的﹐不是嗎﹖

但原來﹐我仍期盼童話的延續

Such… nostalgia.

I stirred slightly, and I walked on.

Out of the darkness, back onto the path, leading to the church.

***

It was in church when a phone call came in.

Unfamiliar number.

I called back the number and an unfamiliar voice picked up.

He said it was Junhong.

Ah. I said.

He was my NPCC squadmates for 4 years back in secondary school, and was keen on organising a meetup cos it had been a year since we had a gathering.

And it was the first time I heard of him since a year ago.

How. Nostalgic.

Another chapter of secondary school’s memories caught up with me.

***

Saw Philip, and I was in awe that he had gained back whatever he had lost 2 weeks ago!

Gosh! Now I don’t feel so bad, do I?

Muahahaha.

What was said at cell group last night was similar to what Wenwei had asked me.

To recognise what I am good at.

Seriously, I would say nothing, cos I seriously do not know, or think I am good at ANYTHING.

I tried looking and asking for a sign for my next step.

Studies, or not?

No conclusive answers.

Many church mates were making small talks with me, and the faces reminded me of the church camp that brought back such gushing floods of painful memories.

Flashback after flashback.

Prickish, prickish.

Ironically, the man who caused such sorrow back then had monopolised most of the past 3 years of my life wasn’t one of those that brought back those incessant flashbacks.

I shook his hand to wish him happy birthday in advance, before we both left the building together.

Heading towards different directions.

***

I strolled down Orchard Road, busking in the hullabaloo from the activities from all over, dreamily indulging in the silence of my own world.

Call me a sadist, I actually enjoy such magical moments of extremes.

I slow-motioned myself as I pierced through the human traffic, looking for traces of emptiness on those worn out faces on the streets.

The smiles and shovings from the group of young girls at the bus stand. I wonder which girl was the target of merciless teasings from her peers about her crush.

The couple at a corner raising their voices at each other as one accusing the other of putting on a glum look throughout the evening, and the other one raised the voice further in defense.

I drew back into my own solitude as I walked on.

Towards Rouge, where I was supposed to meet the rest for the night.

Somehow, I wasn’t that keen.

I was too comfortable in my hermit shell.

Really wasn’t up to it to put on smiles as if I am enjoying everyone and everything.

***

I walked past Acid Bar, which inevitably brought back memories of my first and only trip there with a primary school ex-classmate.

Oh, those haunting memories just wouldn’t stop sneaking attacks at me, eh?

It was a hilarious first-time, cos I was in shorts, soaked in residues from a sweat-fest, trackshoes clad, and a mini-haversack on my back after a trip to Ubin.

That trip, I was pretty keen on checking out Rouge, but deemed my outfit too much of a laughing-stock.

Thus, I didn’t.

He was a nice friend.

***

Met people I have nevet met before.

I didn’t expect that huge a crowd.

Inex, Elayne, Intimate Stranger, and a brief glimpse of LMD.

Plus the newly-acquainted Wallflower, who witnessed my dance-on-table-yet-did-a-humpty-dumpty. Nice tube dress, baby.

Of course, there were the usual Gavin, Vincent, FF and Tetanus.

And there was another one.

An uniquely special one.

I was told my Inex she, too, is a blogger.

The Professional, which, quite ashamedly, I have not read before.

As we exchanged handshakes, she introduced herself as Erica.

My instinct kicked off, and asked, ‘Do you happen to be XXXXX?‘

That, being her Chinese name.

‘Yes I am, and I thought you wouldn’t recognise me. In fact, I am quite disappointed you recognise did.‘

Oops. Then should I be disappointed she recognised me, too?

You guys won’t believe how small the world is.

*GASP GASP GASP*

Erica, was my secondary 1 and 2 classmate. X-times project mates, and we hanged out quite a bit back then.

I still remember a lot of things about her, and she did have a drastic change since we knew each other 11 years ago.

An extensive catching up, the night was meant to be.

Did I mention something about a walk down memory lane?

It must have been a marathon or some sort.

How draining it must have been.

No wonder I am burnt out by the exhaustion.

Brilliant drama.

I had picked up so much pebbles on this lane.

Fascinating.