The Figure

A friend of mine works in a 24 hour-clinic not far from campus. It’s a small clinic, and the building has four stories. All medical practice is done on the fourth floor, while the third floor is used as the office.

Next to the office there’s a small room with a bed and a TV set in it. The room was meant to be used by doctors who work night shifts. It is seldom used though, since the floor is believed to be haunted. There are a lot of ghost stories surrounding it. They usually involve an apparition; a dark figure, that shows up walking around the floor at night.

One day, my friend was on her night shift. As others, she never steps on the floor at night, but that night she had to. She had got to pick up something in the room. So she carefully took the stairs and paced down.
Once she got on the floor, she quickly entered the room, took what she needed, and went out. Nothing happened.
She was half her way back to the stairs when she noticed that the office door was open. She should’ve left anyway, but did something she wasn’t supposed to. She looked through the cleft the open door had created.
And inside, there’s this figure, standing still, facing her.

She was shocked to death; her body froze, and almost screamed. The ghost was there!
But then she quickly realized that the figure was just her own reflection. It turned out she was looking at a mirror inside the office!

What a relief.

Maybe all the stories about a ghost, a figure, wandering around the floor were merely an exaggeration, right?
Well anyway, the next day she found out the office had no mirrors.

A Talented Ninja

I believe I'd make a good ninja.

Because everyone hardly notices me.

I don't know why, it's like I have no aura of presence or something. No significant quality or radiance, perhaps?
Couldn't remember just how many times I was thought absent from college or work.

It's fine. I kinda like it since I'm myself a bit schizophrenic.

One problem though. I hate to take buses. I have a different effect on bus conductors. It seems that my aura is enough for them to notice me, but not enough to remember that I have paid my fare. I've lost count on how many taps I get on my shoulder every time, just to hear that same old statement.
"Money, please."

By the Way

Julie Delpy in Before Sunrise

-The Most Beautiful Woman in the World-

Haywired Circadian

Just woke up.

Let me tell you, never mess with your circadian rhythm unless you have to. You're gonna be very very sorry. I should've known better than to wake up at nights, watch television and go online. I guess I've killed whatever left of my rhythm now.

Basically, living things have this daily rhythm of biochemical process that is called circadian rhythm. It tells them, for instance, when to sleep or wake up. The rhythm is influenced by external factors such as light and temperature. That's why when night comes (when there's not much light and the temperature drops), you get sleepy.

Well for me it doesn't work like that anymore. My eyes are open wide in the dark, and start to shut right at the break of dawn. No better than a vampire. Not to mention its mood changing effect or increased risk for cancer.

So what's the best way to deal with it?
Well... Drugs.
Or you can try to hold your sleep until it is the appropriate time to do it.

Damn, I know I should've stayed awake this morning.

Pretty Women

I had this friend once, and she could be considered as pretty. We used to go out together to eat and talk.
I had no feelings for her whatsoever though; I just liked her company and stories.
Anyway, at one time another friend of mine asked why I hadn't gone for her. And I said because I had this suspicion on pretty women. By suspicion, I meant more like paranoia. And I still do.

Why? Well, by experience, I find that most of them have two things in common.

The first, they are more prone to hypocrisy.

You see, this friend of mine was very popular. Everybody just loved her. Everywhere I went, people would say good things about her.
Now, being liked by most people may say that you're a nice person. But being liked by everyone?
There's just something wrong with it. I believe that if you go as yourself, how nice and kind it may be, there will still be someone who doesn't like you.
Their being liked by literally everyone means that they always try to please everybody. Maybe because they get so used to the amount of attention they receive for being pretty since childhood that they always crave for more. By pleasing everyone, they have a chance to be praised a lot more.
It doesn't always work you know. More often than not, they always end up hurting someone because of these pleasing errands. And it's usually the one that is closest to them. Somebody has got to pay the price, right?

The second is that they are barely ever single.

I know that relationships help you grow. But I think so does being single. Being single lets you learn about yourself, who you really are, what you really want; teaches you to be strong and mature, and gives you a chance to love yourself more. In the end you become a better person to love and be loved. The fact that they are barely single makes me wonder if they ever reflect at all; if they ever see themselves as a person in this world, and not just someone’s girlfriend. You know, a person with private hopes, private dreams, private goals that cannot be compromised by others’ take on her life; a full person.

Not all of them are like that. But most of pretty women in my life are.

Now, if I could just find someone who’s pretty but doesn’t know she is, or at least doesn’t really care… that would be very nice.

The Minotaur

The Minotaur

There’s a photo I found by Man Ray. It is called the Minotaur and it’s a surrealistic photograph. As you can see, in a way, it depicts the Minotaur. The arms represent the horns; the nipples are the eyes; and the belly is the mouth.

I always find myself chilling at the sight of this photo. And yet, there’s something about it that’s captivating. I can't help but to stare at it.

And I know I’m not the only one...

Some say that this photo inspired the Black Dahlia murder. It was a murder back in the early 20th century which was much too brutal for the time. The victim was a struggling Hollywood actress. She was found naked, mutilated, and posed to resemble the photo. The murderer was never captured.

Some people just go too far for art, I guess.

A Bit about CC, You China!

CC is a high school. I went there for junior and senior high. The name stands for Canisius College, though may sometimes be referred to as Cinasius College (meaning: College of the Chinese). It’s no surprise since most of the students are indeed of Chinese descendants. The rest consists of Javanese, Padangese, and a small number of other ethnicities.

There’s a tradition that is passed for generations in CC. We never let anyone forget what ethnicity they belong to.
We call the Padangese ‘Padang’.
We call the Javanese ‘Jawa’, or sometimes ‘Tiko’ (it’s supposed to be a Chinese word, but when I asked for its meaning once, a friend of mine told me to just let it go).
We call the Chinese ‘China’, and so on.

The names aren’t necessary used by a group to call a different group. They are in fact used by students in the same group to call one another. No one’s ever got offended, and we find it to be funny and friendly.

My girlfriend once confronted me on this ‘habit’. She said that race and ethnicity were serious and sensitive subjects. They are not to be taken lightly and irresponsibly.
At first, I didn't say anything. But when she kept pressing on, I finally said,

“Darling, the last time a man took it seriously, he killed 6 million Jews.”