The other night my friend invited me to hang out + drink alcohol with other people. Because we are the best of buds I said OK. I don’t really have a relationship with alcohol apart from enjoying a glass of rosé now and then. The interval between now and then is very long. I dislike drinking in public now that I am older and have developed my prefrontal cortex. Actually. I dislike doing anything outside of my house and would prefer to be indoors unless I feel sluggish. Then yes, I would like some sunshine. Just what the doctor ordered!

So because of the casualness of this whole thing, this person brought that person and a friend of a friend came along so it became a party of 12 or 13 easily. I hadn’t stopped to count.

It started raining around 2am. I was getting ready to leave. A girl asked if I could accompany her to the ladies inside the mall. I said OK. She had some to drink (they were drinking whiskey mixed with some cola) and before I knew it she was crying about how sucky her life was or is is it is or was and I was just O_O. I’m not good at giving words of encouragement to practical strangers and after that trip to the loo it became a counseling session outside. I hate this sort of thing! I am private about my struggles and while I don’t need people to be like me I just can’t. It’s not about being emotionally immature. 1) I don’t know you! 2) Some stuff that happened in this person’s life were.. mistakes she made but they’re not as bad even though some were of course irreversible. 3) I should have been an engineer because I always want to solve problems but most people just want to talk about what makes them sad or angry. They don’t want solutions..The default I do in situations like this would be to just let them talk. Occasionally I add a hmm to signal I am listening.

Anyway the drunk emo thing happened from 2 to perhaps 6am. I don’t regret going but I have told my friend who invited me we should not invite this person anymore. It’s not to be a heartless dick. I have outgrown this shit and I don’t want to babysit a grown adult.

You know, I think, women, when you’re in your twenties… I was like this when I was younger, okay? You tend to get very flattered, you tend to feel very special when a man is vulnerable with you, when he opens up to you about his trauma. [fake crying] “You know, Ali… when I was a little boy… my uncle, he…” I’m gonna stop you right there, okay? “Hey! Snap out of it, man! Snap out of it! Come on!” “Let’s keep it positive, let’s keep it sexy.” I’m here for orgasms and free oysters. That’s it, okay? But if you’re a kind six like me, these dudes, they don’t wanna just dick you down. In exchange, they want you to be their mommy-therapist. They call me up, and they’re like, “Ali, I am having the worst fucking day.” I’m like, “Well then, hang up the fucking phone.”“I don’t know why you think it’s acceptable to spread that shit to my day.” “I’m having a great time.” “I’m in my professionally interior decorated home that’s loaded with TOTO toilets.”

OK sorry I think I am chatty today.

I wanted to share about writing classes. I attended one about 8 years ago in an art school. Prior to the writing classes I had also gone for painting lessons which, while I was horrible at, I did quite enjoy. I enjoy learning in general but with such classes I don’t think of return on investments or what kind of future money I can make from it.

However, I struggle with identity a lot (I still do but I’ve taken a less serious approach to it now that I’m almost 40). So I am Malay. Have I felt Malay? Not really. It’s not that I reject the culture or look down on it. I still speak Malay. I love Malay food. I have a few Malay friends. It’s something I just don’t quite feel anything about.

My mom had told me a few times when she held me when I was an infant that she felt if I ever got married I just wouldn’t live in Singapore. She said I would marry a foreigner. My mom would describe me as kelakar seram. (It’s funny but in a sort of creepy way?) So I asked foreign like Bangladesh or foreign like English or ang moh (white) cause foreign is 194 other countries you know. She said she didn’t know! She just felt I wouldn’t live in Singapore in my adulthood.

Well, I am still here.

So the writing classes were conducted by a published author based in Singapore. As I had a lot of time then I picked up some of his books to peruse. I didn’t like his writing style for some reason.. it didn’t hook me.. but of course as I am a polite human being I never brought it up. Why cause waves, right? There was absolutely no difference in the world whether I enjoyed his books or not and I was open minded about learning from him.

There’s peer to peer reading in the classes. I don’t remember a lot of it but I think there was a theme each week and I had to write portions of the work at home and bring them to class. Then we would hand them at the end of each class for his review.

Then he mentioned something like I wasn’t authentic in my writing. But how would you explain culture to someone else who insisted your writing had to include cultural éléments.. when you yourself aren’t/weren’t.. cultural..?

I do do Malay stuff like attend weddings and love karaoke (which I will pronounce the Asian way ka-rao-kay and not karaoke like Carrie Underwood in Before He Cheats) but other than that I think I am a bit of everything.

I want to write more of course. I just don’t know where to start.

I have to clean my house and do laundry in a bit and I thought I would chat for a while. This year due to funemployment I have been reading a lot more than usual. Right now though, I plan to read light novels until the end of the year. Things that are unserious. In fact right now as we speak I am reading a 2018 novel called French Exit. I will tell you all about it when I have finished. I’m ⅕ through.

I used to like to write! When I was about 8 I had to attend some creative writing class. You’ve probably heard the story 26 or more times if we know each other in real life. It was from 10am to 12pm. I believe one term was Tuesdays and another term was on Wednesdays. School started at 1pm for me and even as a wee kid I liked to eat a lot and savour every eating moment so the comments I received about my writing were always about ‘strong starts and abrupt stops’. Of course la abrupt stops I wanted to go for lunch! I try to correct that now but old habits die hard.. or rather I’ve never learnt to correct that. There’s no incentive I think. There’s always something else pressing that needs my attention. My wine doesn’t drink by itself.. hehe

I think all kids should go for writing classes. We have ChatGPT (which, if I have to say so, is a better friend than my friends haha!) that can help us write but individually we have our quirks and flavour so learning to express ourselves with our writing or speech is beneficial. Beneficial for whom I don’t know. I’ll tell you once I figured that out.

I like French Exit so far. It has this line (I don’t know if it’s the writing or the wine.. I am pretty buzzed right now) but I just guffawed like a teenage girl.

“She was a demon. And if such a place as hell exists then that’s where she collects her mail”

Haha!

What is your favourite piece of writing?

On Wednesday my cousin and I met for lunch. At first I had suggested Pu3 (I dooooo love their food) but in the end changed my mind and opted for Loong. My cousin was game.

The food was great. The service, however, was horrible! I don’t know if I should elaborate but here goes: I think they brand themselves as fine dining. But the wait staff assigned to our seat had a grumpy look on his face the entire time, didn’t record our drinks order, dismissed us when we had said our table was too small.

Maybe you don’t know this about me but I am mostly easygoing about food. I can eat cheap food, food people qualify as ‘struggle’ food, and also expensive food. When I am in France I usually make a trip to a Michelin restaurant I really like. It’s not pretentious but I like hearing where my food came from. My Malay acquaintances like to say I eat ‘toy’ food. But it’s multiple courses so before dessert I usually need to take a break.

Of course naturally we posted about our day out. It’s actually the first time I’ve been out since I was sexually assaulted in May. I do go out for meals near where I stay but I’ve not been out beyond maybe 4 km from my house.

So my friends saw the post and probably thought it meant I was ready to socialise. I am not!! Maybe give it a couple of months?

Please stop.