Thursday, 23 August
Was at work till late – pitching in preparation for an event the next day. Person in charge went home early and there were a few unhappy folks. It wasn’t even my event directly but being in the same section, I had to do my bit.
Friday, 24 August
Early in the day
Day of actual event – again, got roped in where I wasn’t supposed to be. Crisis management called for hands on approach. Carrying chairs from one level to the next is not a joke as is being an overseer of things. Heavy. Perspiration. Hoarse from exhaustion. Lack of sleep, I mirror the eye on a perfect potato.
After the event
I scooted off fast as my legs could carry me off to WOMAD and into the arms of civility and Asian Dub Foundation. Uninhabited, I threw off the veil of goodness and worked my way through the acts. Leaving all cares and fuck-nots.
Saturday, 25 August
Didn’t feel too clever this morning as a consequence of leaving all cares and fuck-nots. Unfortunately, the brain recognises the lack of sleep and there was a massive traffic jam blocking my train of coherent thoughts. Not helpful when one has to sit through a serious discussion of the ASEAN draft charter. Unable to contribute constructively, I excused myself to the book fair beckoning seductively out for my utmost immediate attention. Coming back to witness flames being thrown by certain someones that shall remain nameless. I ducked out onto the streets, glad for respite from the heat. My shades, they shield me.
Sunday, 26 August
One movie screening, one campaign launch, plenty of Filipinos and Indonesians and a smattering of locals. Makes for an interesting mix – all confined into The Theatre of The Substation. United in their stand of “Domestic work is work, not slavery”, red hot push for recognition. Charismatically lead by their leader, they cheered. A stark contrast to the sniffling I witnessed after when they watched the movie. A tad simplistic for my liking but hey, it does the job if you are plunging into this cause cold. Needless to say, being the cold bitch that some have said that I am, it hardly tugged at my heartstrings. Am I too unfeeling?
Monday, 27 August
Work work work…hardly could wait till end of the day where 2 mystery men await me. It wasn’t quite like “that”. I was excited, yes, but not in a sexual way, silly. Excited as to what these meetings could spell out for the future. Both meeting was time well invested and now I have more on my plate than ever to push around abit. Then start putting it into my mouth, curiously chewing it for taste as my senses explode as they chase up to cope with the unexpected.
Tuesday – Thursday, 28 – 30 August
Shall not take you through these mundane days. It was absolute torture – don’t want to pain you too. No worries, it was just work – it IS torturous. To know that my very existence depends on my job is bloody painful. Moving along….
Friday, 31 August
My brother Nikkhil didn’t happen as anticipated. What an anticlimax. Pah * sticks tongue out * Hung out with the Rani herself over vegetarian tom yum and kopi, exchanging world views and activist angst as per our habit.
…and so I met her last night. I have heard stories about her. I was in an anticipative mood after all. I wanted to see if she is a representation of her. She, who is always hopeful that the next man would provide her security and love. She kindly offered to drop me off at Arab Street. It was a short ride with her, her new love and her son but I learned some things off them. Hearing the stories and hardships that she has gone through – I hope she finds her solace, warm in the new embrace.
Arab Street with him and them. A spanking hot Lamborghini pulls up. Driver, not hot and no, I don’t want to spank him. My wrist might just break. Sniggering behind his back, he is blissfully unaware of the attention he’s, I mean, his car, has drawn. Sitting there, inhaling second hand smoke, I drift away, lulled by the easy breeze off into my own personal womb.
Saturday, 1 September
Brunch with him late. Supposed to be brunch but with my precise late timing, I deferred the appointment to 1pm…further pushing it to 1.30pm…pushing the boundaries?
Off to Literati as I read 3 of my poems. Fingers frozen, almost numb, the sheet trembled like a leaf but being the professional, I read, nonchalant, hey, I’m cool and I’m in control. * wink *
Arab Street again to witness a punk gig, hung out with 3 other roses and a thorn. (sorry, you, didn’t mean it as if you were a pain) The punk gig was L O U D, my heart thudded with each crash of hot sweaty bodies. My only prayer,: don’t let any of them fall on me.
Sunday, 2 September
Had an open house at Migrant Voices. It rained and that sucked. I made tea and did I mention that in the midst of all these, I baked 2 cakes – vegetarian ones, in fact, no eggs! A certain someone would be so proud. I radiate happiness as I beam under his benevolent smile.
Was at work till late – pitching in preparation for an event the next day. Person in charge went home early and there were a few unhappy folks. It wasn’t even my event directly but being in the same section, I had to do my bit.
Friday, 24 August
Early in the day
Day of actual event – again, got roped in where I wasn’t supposed to be. Crisis management called for hands on approach. Carrying chairs from one level to the next is not a joke as is being an overseer of things. Heavy. Perspiration. Hoarse from exhaustion. Lack of sleep, I mirror the eye on a perfect potato.
After the event
I scooted off fast as my legs could carry me off to WOMAD and into the arms of civility and Asian Dub Foundation. Uninhabited, I threw off the veil of goodness and worked my way through the acts. Leaving all cares and fuck-nots.
Saturday, 25 August
Didn’t feel too clever this morning as a consequence of leaving all cares and fuck-nots. Unfortunately, the brain recognises the lack of sleep and there was a massive traffic jam blocking my train of coherent thoughts. Not helpful when one has to sit through a serious discussion of the ASEAN draft charter. Unable to contribute constructively, I excused myself to the book fair beckoning seductively out for my utmost immediate attention. Coming back to witness flames being thrown by certain someones that shall remain nameless. I ducked out onto the streets, glad for respite from the heat. My shades, they shield me.
Sunday, 26 August
One movie screening, one campaign launch, plenty of Filipinos and Indonesians and a smattering of locals. Makes for an interesting mix – all confined into The Theatre of The Substation. United in their stand of “Domestic work is work, not slavery”, red hot push for recognition. Charismatically lead by their leader, they cheered. A stark contrast to the sniffling I witnessed after when they watched the movie. A tad simplistic for my liking but hey, it does the job if you are plunging into this cause cold. Needless to say, being the cold bitch that some have said that I am, it hardly tugged at my heartstrings. Am I too unfeeling?
Monday, 27 August
Work work work…hardly could wait till end of the day where 2 mystery men await me. It wasn’t quite like “that”. I was excited, yes, but not in a sexual way, silly. Excited as to what these meetings could spell out for the future. Both meeting was time well invested and now I have more on my plate than ever to push around abit. Then start putting it into my mouth, curiously chewing it for taste as my senses explode as they chase up to cope with the unexpected.
Tuesday – Thursday, 28 – 30 August
Shall not take you through these mundane days. It was absolute torture – don’t want to pain you too. No worries, it was just work – it IS torturous. To know that my very existence depends on my job is bloody painful. Moving along….
Friday, 31 August
My brother Nikkhil didn’t happen as anticipated. What an anticlimax. Pah * sticks tongue out * Hung out with the Rani herself over vegetarian tom yum and kopi, exchanging world views and activist angst as per our habit.
…and so I met her last night. I have heard stories about her. I was in an anticipative mood after all. I wanted to see if she is a representation of her. She, who is always hopeful that the next man would provide her security and love. She kindly offered to drop me off at Arab Street. It was a short ride with her, her new love and her son but I learned some things off them. Hearing the stories and hardships that she has gone through – I hope she finds her solace, warm in the new embrace.
Arab Street with him and them. A spanking hot Lamborghini pulls up. Driver, not hot and no, I don’t want to spank him. My wrist might just break. Sniggering behind his back, he is blissfully unaware of the attention he’s, I mean, his car, has drawn. Sitting there, inhaling second hand smoke, I drift away, lulled by the easy breeze off into my own personal womb.
Saturday, 1 September
Brunch with him late. Supposed to be brunch but with my precise late timing, I deferred the appointment to 1pm…further pushing it to 1.30pm…pushing the boundaries?
Off to Literati as I read 3 of my poems. Fingers frozen, almost numb, the sheet trembled like a leaf but being the professional, I read, nonchalant, hey, I’m cool and I’m in control. * wink *
Arab Street again to witness a punk gig, hung out with 3 other roses and a thorn. (sorry, you, didn’t mean it as if you were a pain) The punk gig was L O U D, my heart thudded with each crash of hot sweaty bodies. My only prayer,: don’t let any of them fall on me.
Sunday, 2 September
Had an open house at Migrant Voices. It rained and that sucked. I made tea and did I mention that in the midst of all these, I baked 2 cakes – vegetarian ones, in fact, no eggs! A certain someone would be so proud. I radiate happiness as I beam under his benevolent smile.
Off to a preview at The Necessary Stage. A forum theatre piece, I could identify with all that was put out. I was too knackered to add on - it was too close to home. I didn’t want to touch myself. I needed to be okay for Monday pounces soon, much too soon…
Present day
As someone once asked me, “Do you sleep??” Seems like I don’t.
Petal P. Rose
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