Japan on my mind

Next Saturday will be the announcement for who gets to go to the mooting competition in Japan. I’m feeling sick and nervous just thinking about it. Plus I don’t feel like I’ll be selected. My last session was atrocious, I couldn’t remember article 36 of the UN Charter and I stood there looking like I wanted to cry. I so want to go. But I’m not sure I’ve proved myself worthy enough. After the session Tory rounded up on me and told me not to take it so hard. That mistakes happen and they make you stronger, so I should just pick myself up and do better next time. Except in my mind that was my last chance before the selection and I screwed it.
But anyway, Tory is an exceptional Irish lady and I’ve learnt a lot these past few weeks. There was this one weird session. I had gotten up for a one-minute speech, begun a few sentences, then I got interrupted.
Tory goes: “Have you ever been pissed? What do you do when you’re pissed?”
“Umm…. I… write?”
“Have you ever been pissed at someone and told them to fuck off?”
“Umm… yes…”
“I want you to do that to me now. I want you to tell me to fuck off.”
“Literally ??”
“Yes. Come on, I’ve been a bitch. I’ve given you countless assignments, I’ve kept you up till late at night. This is your chance to get pissed at me and tell me to just fuck off Tory.”

I laughed. This was unbelievable.

“Fuck off”, I said.
“With feeling !”
“Fuck off !”
“Say it like you mean it !”
“Fuck off !”
“Don’t smile while you’re saying it !”
“Fuck you !”
“Come on woman ! You can do better than that !!”
“Fuck you ! FUCK OFF !!”
Then she goes: “I want the rest of you to keep pissing her off a lot when you’re together. You’re a smart, intelligent lady, so why are you standing there looking apologetic? I want you to wipe out that sweet and gentle manner. You’re good but you lack a certain edge. Once you get that edge, you’ll move from good to excellent.”
She nods her head in the direction of my seat and I just leave the podium and sit.
Stunned. And curiously exhausted.

He used to say,
"When an angel spreads her wings, behold it will stretch as far as the east and west.
Which reminds me... i cannot see things behind you"

I always thought that was sweet.

middle class

There is an uprising of the middle class.
The new generation visibly appear more fashionable and more financially capable, as is evident in my campus for example.  In the class of 2002, 2003, and onwards a particular group -evidently not all people rise to this heightened lifestyle- can always be detected and distinguished.  The men have bald or spiky, wax infused hair, own a pair of white shoes or more, dress very fashionably and actually care a lot about how they appear in public, although they would deny this and claim they are only “being themselves”.   Most of them have cars, which did not seem intriguing at all until Kane asked me, “how many of your friends don’t have cars?” and I spent quite some time thinking about it, finally naming one person. Evidently when he was in university in the year 1995, a similar answer would be had if I had asked him how many of his friends have cars.  They can openly discuss brand names and share product information, purchase a new wardrobe every now and then, while remaining completely, sexually straight.  As this is not what many people would think as conventional, traditional male behaviour, it is more evident in the male sex.  The ladies, they are just doing their thing in a more capable way.  They bequeath themselves with pretty things and cute things, in an unconscious effort to look “fresh” as is the apparent underlying teenage / tweenage trend these days.  Ethnic doesn’t work, gothic for some, but the majority go for fresh and pretty. 
I was at a birthday party recently in Kemang, attended by my dear old high school friends who I haven’t met for quite a while, being busy with campus work, and looking forward indeed to meeting them.  They say high school friends are the only real friends you will have your whole life, because campus friends will inevitably end up being professional rivals.  I don’t believe this by the way, not yet anyway.  I had known them since we were 15, and now we are all in our twenties. They had a habit of meeting up much more often than I do, so I must admit I was a bit lost in the sea of information coming to greet me, both verbally and visibly.  Each girlfriend I greeted was prettier than I remembered, having prettier hair, perfect makeup, shorter skirts, more visible skin, fashionable clothes out of a glossy magazine, and pretty accessories to complete the picture.  And I had thought my silver hoop earrings were a bit lavish.  And I thought, “Who are all these fashionable people?  How come I know them?”   We had all grown up, but the most significant thing was that they had a new liberal lifestyle, more so than I had remembered, and they were liberal in many ways, such as the way they dress and how capable they are of dressing that way, and how they had the time to frequent occasions in which they could dress that way.  I didn’t think I belonged there at all, to tell you the truth.  Well besides the fact that fashion has always been an unfortunate mystery to me, and the fact that they looked so glamorous, there was a lot of conversation going on that I didn’t relate to, resorting to giggling and gossiping my way through.  Nevertheless I survived, and it was a fun, colourful night. 

introduction

At my feet lie the broken shards that dreams are made of
they glimmer and shine like unicorn blood
On the grass they look like jigsaw puzzles
never meant to be put together
Road ribbons twist and tangle before me
some lay crumpled in my grasp, in my hands
just waiting to be thrown away, or recycled, or decided
In the daylight fear i sometimes find
hidden in the waking hours of consciousness
The light of the sun, the noise of the city
So loud that i can hardly hear myself think
Multi-coloured vibrations disperse and intermingle
And i am alone in the crowd, dazed.
Just me: the poet, the pianist, the confused.