Interlocking Squares: Ching Juan (13)
Tuesday 31 January 2006
Usually, when I get nervous, I pace. Round and round the living area, detour into the kitchen, take a turn around my room, back to the living area again. It drives the housemates nuts.
But I can't very well do that here at the bus station. People would give me weird looks. Well, weirder than the looks they're giving me now, as they watch me scribble away in this notebook (yeah, going low-tech for once. You don't expect me to lug my laptop around town, do you?). And I don't want to wander off and miss David when he gets here. That's why I've resorted to writing it down, to calm the nerves. Because of David. Who's also the cause of the nerves as well as the writing down, so it's some sort of two-in-one package. Pretty handy.
I'm not making very much sense, am I? Well, you can hardly expect me to. I mean, these are the near stream-of-consciousness scribblings of someone who, if she weren't scribbling, would be walking around the station in circles. It's therapy, not articulation. Oh, all right. Yes, it's therapy through articulation, are you happy now? Jeez, you're as demanding as my computer.
The thing is... what on earth am I going to say to David once he gets here? No, it's not that I think I'll be tongue-tied, I don't usually have trouble talking to anyone, even total and complete strangers, but it's... I don't know, it feels like it ought to be sort of... different now. I mean, you don't usually snatch the phone out of your roommate's hand even if it is someone who's sort of, well, your friend on the other end, do you? Unless...
No, I don't want to think about unless. I don't want to speculate about unless, in case I end up feeling like an idiot. David's the sort of person who does weird things from time to time, after all. I probably just happen to be on the receiving end for once. The trouble is, I don't really know, do I? For all I know he could be in the habit of grabbing phones from people whenever he feels like talking to the person on the other end. Of course, that's not very likely. I'm sure Vincent would've said something. But still.
Argh. Why must I go and make a big deal out of it? If it were Vincent coming to give me a lift, I know I wouldn't be rambling all over the place like this. He's just a friend, okay? They both are.
Sigh. Go, Lim Ching Juan. Live in denial, it's wet and there are crocodiles.
Well, he is just a friend. Just because I can't help wondering whether he'd like to be something else...
Ye gods. Here he is. Okay, gotta go now. Cheer up, notebook. If I make a fool of myself again, you'll be the first to know.
Usually, when I get nervous, I pace. Round and round the living area, detour into the kitchen, take a turn around my room, back to the living area again. It drives the housemates nuts.
But I can't very well do that here at the bus station. People would give me weird looks. Well, weirder than the looks they're giving me now, as they watch me scribble away in this notebook (yeah, going low-tech for once. You don't expect me to lug my laptop around town, do you?). And I don't want to wander off and miss David when he gets here. That's why I've resorted to writing it down, to calm the nerves. Because of David. Who's also the cause of the nerves as well as the writing down, so it's some sort of two-in-one package. Pretty handy.
I'm not making very much sense, am I? Well, you can hardly expect me to. I mean, these are the near stream-of-consciousness scribblings of someone who, if she weren't scribbling, would be walking around the station in circles. It's therapy, not articulation. Oh, all right. Yes, it's therapy through articulation, are you happy now? Jeez, you're as demanding as my computer.
The thing is... what on earth am I going to say to David once he gets here? No, it's not that I think I'll be tongue-tied, I don't usually have trouble talking to anyone, even total and complete strangers, but it's... I don't know, it feels like it ought to be sort of... different now. I mean, you don't usually snatch the phone out of your roommate's hand even if it is someone who's sort of, well, your friend on the other end, do you? Unless...
No, I don't want to think about unless. I don't want to speculate about unless, in case I end up feeling like an idiot. David's the sort of person who does weird things from time to time, after all. I probably just happen to be on the receiving end for once. The trouble is, I don't really know, do I? For all I know he could be in the habit of grabbing phones from people whenever he feels like talking to the person on the other end. Of course, that's not very likely. I'm sure Vincent would've said something. But still.
Argh. Why must I go and make a big deal out of it? If it were Vincent coming to give me a lift, I know I wouldn't be rambling all over the place like this. He's just a friend, okay? They both are.
Sigh. Go, Lim Ching Juan. Live in denial, it's wet and there are crocodiles.
Well, he is just a friend. Just because I can't help wondering whether he'd like to be something else...
Ye gods. Here he is. Okay, gotta go now. Cheer up, notebook. If I make a fool of myself again, you'll be the first to know.