简讯心情

前些日子因为一个朋友偏爱以发简讯的方式沟通，手机信箱经常爆满。所以这几天常常发现自己在做删除简讯的工作。

常告诉自己，要养成一收到简讯，阅读完毕，就立刻删除的好习惯。但却无法做到。

偏自己有个怪癖。在删除简讯时，喜欢一个一个打开来，重读一遍再删。手机设有“删除所有信息”的智能功能，却从来只是摆着不用。费时费力，却能重新回味一段段的对话。就算简单如朋友传来的“赶着去朋友家，手机快没电了”，这么一个平凡的信息，也藏着一层回忆。原先是收到时，习惯性的不删。隔几天随意翻阅到，不觉感到窝心，也就不舍得删。

就这样收着，收着，信箱不觉爆满。以往发简讯还只是一种生活便利，只在无法通电话时才用。现在碰到一个朋友把简讯当MSN用，一天就可以爆我一次信箱，就真的开始埋怨了。不由得怨起自己的手机只能容约200个信息。但，以往的手机只能收10个信息的。人心呀，永远无法满足。

其实，埋怨也只是口头的碎念。删简讯，是个差事，但却也是一种享受。

Each message means, you are in my thoughts.

会这么怨，是因为每一个简讯，都珍惜。

疯

2月16日 —— 2月17日。

好久没玩得那么疯了。大概大学毕业之后，就没。

唱K，吃鱼生，跳舞，看电影。原来要分5天做的事，一天全做了。

很满足。玩得尽兴，电影好看。陪我玩的人够疯。

开心。仿佛找回了以往的自己。自由，自主，随性。没有责任，不想太多，想做就做。不像现在，什么都安排好，且安排得让自己没有喘气的时间。昨天的疯狂，已影响了自己几日的安排。但值得。找回了呼吸的空间。

感谢陪伴的人。不会跳舞也在舞池边呆了两个小时。说好看部电影的，没想到看着看着，就凌晨了。

知道我不好陪，所以谢谢你陪我一整夜。不知道这样玩你是真的开心还是只是迁就我。但，想让你知道，这一夜，我很开心。

不算熟，认识也没多久。知道你不开心，也不能说什么。就一声谢谢吧。谢谢你，谢谢你的时间。谢谢你让我找回一些些以往的自己。谢谢你给了我这一夜的回忆。也祝福你。开心点吧。人要开心，不容易，也没你想得那么难。

Fundamentally Happy

Now Playing : I Wish You Love - Rachael Yamagata

Watched a couple of good shows recently, one of which was Fundamentally Happy.

Heard rave reviews about the play’s first showing and went in with high expectations. Wasn’t disappointed… but wasn’t terribly impressed either.

I like it, and I don’t.

I like it for the surfeit of emotions and the questions and feelings it digs up within us and the fact that it doesn’t give simple answers. It doesn’t give any answers at all. It doesn’t paint a pretty picture and there isn’t any right or wrong. The playwright laughingly commented that we could even see the play as “morally evil” and in its twisted way, we can.

It shows the truth the way it is. Complex.

I also like the clarity defined in the neatly boxed setting of the new Gallery Theatre.

I don’t like it for the slightly erratic writing, the start of each act seems contrived somehow and the about face turn in the frequent change of emotions is too abrupt to be believable, making the acting seem over the top at times when the actor tries to make up for it. The play didn’t ring true at times.

The ending music was hauntingly perfect but I didn’t cry and didn’t even feel like crying, and that says a lot. I wasn’t drawn in to feel for the characters and somehow that says it all. It’s a pity because I felt there was so much potential and so much more that could be wrung out from this story.

I can see why so many people liked this piece and I do recommend it when it shows again (there’s another run scheduled I think). I’ll even see it again… perhaps in a different mood and changes, it’ll stir different reactions…

二人前，二人后

上周临时决定不去Gym，去看一部戏。是最后一分钟的决定，也就没约谁。只是早上问了问妈妈要不要去。因为太突然，妈妈本来说不要，没想到下午爸爸却打了电话来。心血来潮的冲动，却成了家庭聚会。

只是在周二看了电邮的通告时，忽然有一股冲动想看戏才做了决定改变计划。最近太累，就想看戏。没想到机缘巧合，竟看了一部好戏。

最好的戏，是让观众笑着流泪的。《二人前，二人后》是不是最好的一部戏，不知道。但，却让人在笑得前伏后仰时，忍不住想哭。

开幕的《小丑》原先让人以为进了马戏团，闭幕时却让人心酸。《双生儿》台词锋利幽默，有些自嘲，结尾时却让人仿佛掏了心般的空虚。《电话》很简单，很风趣，也很冷漠。在交纵的感觉中，体验了两个人相处时的复杂心情。

但最喜欢的是《猫》。很喜欢的戏，台词棒，演得细，尤其猫的小动作好传神。猫与主人之间的关系，那份依赖，那份不舍，那份怨气，那份不耐。带着秘密，带着怀疑，带着关怀，带着心恋。

“你走呀！我不想再见到你！”

一时的气话，伤得深。明知自己的贪玩会换来这句伤人的话，却无法控制自己。就如他无法控制自己不说。

“你介意？那你还咬我？”

介意的何止这个。介意他身上有其他猫的痕迹。介意自己偷听过他曾想把自己送走。介意，却不说。只有等，等一天他不再说。等，看他是否真的会把自己赶走。等，测试他对自己的喜欢。一边等待，一边介意，一边积怨。

是磨爪还是按摩？到最后，谁是主人谁是猫？其实已经不重要。两个，都是俘虏。

两个人，在一起久了，就是如此了吧。

因为喜欢，所以伤得深。因为离不开，所以伤害。因为依赖，所以含怨。

两个人的关系，本就如此单纯。却永远都是复杂的。

很少在看一部戏时，想哭，却哭不出来。因为心被掏了空。也许这是好事，喜欢这一份心悸，但也太累。

Random Thoughts of the Day

Now Playing: Unfaithful - Rihanna

I die a little every Wednesday… if not physically, then mentally….

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I hate the showers at One Raffles Quay. They run between scalding hot and freezing cold in seconds, fickle and temperamental lovers.

----

I have yet to meet a printer that doesn’t dislike me at first sight. Why???

----

I realize I have this ingrained reaction of asking for permission to leave a class and am genetically disposed to being late for class. Even during gym class, I’ll try to catch the eye of the instructor and receive a nod of acknowledgement before leaving the class with a peace of mind. And I feel guilty like hell if I’m late, even if nobody else really cares. And after more than a year, I still get a jolt sometimes when my kids ask me for permission to leave the class to go toilet/refill water/whatever. It’s like a reminder that I’m a teacher when I’m still a student mentally. Huh.

---

I miss jazz…

public transport woes

Somewhere, probably closer to hell than heaven, there must be a god of public transport that doesn’t like me very much. How else do you explain the way I can never get home early on the weekday nights when I have to wake up at the inhumane hour of 6am the next day?

I have an unwritten rule of no taxis, no matter what, but I decided to break it on Wednesday after a grueling resistance training and a demoralizing rueda session where I discovered that I no longer know how to turn. After more than fifteen minutes of waiting at various roadsides and flagging red-topped taxis that are invariably hired or on call and taxis that only go tampines and pasir ris (why only east???), I gave up and started for the mrt station. Only to flag down the only one green-for-hire taxi in sight when I was about to reach the mrt station about ten minutes later.

The next night on Thursday was a easy night with a light rpm session (although ‘light’ and ‘rpm’ together is an oxymoron) and a soft pilates session. So I decided to take the long bus ride home, and ended up waiting for over 30 minutes for the horrible bus while green top taxis breezed by in packs.

The two places aren’t that far apart! Maybe a fifteen, twenty minute walk, where the hell were all those taxis on Wednesday???

Friday was salsa night, the kind of fun dance night that I haven’t had for a long, long while. Saw many old dance friends that invariably turned up closer to eleven pm. Although I promised myself to leave on the dot, dancing “last dances” with friends pushed the time closer to eleven thirty instead. Ran all the way to the mrt station to wait another 5 minutes on the platform and inevitably missed the last bus home.

Haiz. *looks heavenwards* What did I ever do to you, O god of public transport???

Never mind, as the old saying goes, 天将降大任于斯人也，必先苦其心志，劳其筋骨，饿其体肤. Although what kind of 大任 requires chasing after elusive taxis and waiting for never-ever-coming buses drove by bus drivers with no sense of time, I have no idea.