Interplanetary greeting

Hi everybody. This is Martian. I’ve been given the colossal task of guest-blogging for Su Ann. I’m not even going to pretend that I can fill the role of titillating your senses the way she does so I’m going to very perfunctorily entertain you with fillers that invite totally obvious comparisons of how my blogs suck big time compared to those of the Luscious Pink Goddess. I also have the tendency to wander off into long sentences. So bear with me.

First some history of why I’m a Martian. And why Hong Kong is dangerously close to stripping the 2nd rock of its planetary status after Pluto, which I hasten to respond: every discipline has a ritual that’s totally anal in nature. Sorry Pluto, you have to clear the neighbourhood around your orbit. Take the Japanese Tea Ceremony. I browsed through Paulo Coelho’s essay collection on that subject who expressed the view that if daily routine stuff like drinking tea were done in a ritualistic way, we would enjoy our life a lot more. Okayyy, I’m really really looking forward to brushing my teeth tomorrow. Anal everybody, you gotta be it. I think Su Ann’s has this shower ritual that lasts for hours, but that’s a story for another day. Anyway, back to the question. Why am I a Martian?

Consider the picture below. Compare it to previous pics you’ve seen of me, do I look like him? Do I have a green helmet on my head that tries to pass off a broom as that furry thing on a centurion’s helmet? Do I match a red tee, green skirt and red tights with white sneakers? Do I do that on other days than Wednesdays? Do I wear white gloves? Am I always pissed off? Do I have all that angst that I pented up as a teen when I was really nice and smiley? Do I have a self-imposed anger management policy on myself? That thing that they ask you to do..count from one to ten, take a deep breath, does it really work? Yes, it does. Is my name Marvin?

Comments December 14th, 2006

Neve

it was very quick. even before the confused frown on my forehead ceased, i had retrieved from the recesses of my memory the exact event i needed. it was something i had read on a good friend’s blog. the realization, the matching of incidents, the conclusion was quick as well. i swear it all happened in the blink of an eye. inwardly, i sigh and think to myself, not again? this time i definitely heard right. but i cant even bring myself to care anymore. so i roll my eyes and give my short reply of disagreement. or perhaps correction would be a better word to use. i dont know. i’ve been scarred. and i just want to avoid the chances of being scarred again. it’s not the painful, heartbreaking kind of scar.. but a wince-inducing, pride-damaging kind of scar. now i am nervous. it’s like i’m in this perpetual flight away from something i have to avoid. it’s very tiring. it takes all the fun out of something that should be light-hearted, giggly and happy. it gives it this underlying gloom, this shadow that follows it all around. it’s not about pride anymore. now it’s about love. i wish i could say, i am me.. love me.. but those words are difficult to utter. it’s something you keep second-guessing, something you just cant bring yourself to say.

Comments December 14th, 2006