Night Blast
This morning, I woke up in cold sweat, with raised heartbeat and still possessing deep sadness from one of the most cinematographic yet horrifying dreams I’ve had in a while.
Unlike my previous apocalyptic dream sequence earlier this year, today’s was more of a first-person perspective. The dream revolves around a tragic tale of loss, hopelessness and ensuing anger after an atom bomb explodes over Singapore, disrupting a beautiful day. Just like Mal from Inception, Andy makes his appearance in my dream again, this time as my long-term partner. My emotions are further enhanced when a minor subplot develops after the explosion whereby I realize that the “strangers” around me aren’t actually strangers, but people I know. Amplifying the tragedy is the visual aspect of the nuclear disaster – some are vaporized, with the only evidence of their existence is the initial flash’s imprint of their shadow on a wall, immortalizing their last moments together (such as Khai and Fadilah… I recognize him by his size). The lucky ones die while the others survive with various degrees of nuclear burns which I assure you is not a pretty nor painless sight.
Andy survives the blast, but barely. His back had experienced nuclear burns so bad that his tee-shirt had melted into whatever skin that hadn’t yet disintegrated due to the radiation, and even that was degenerating too. While I experienced nuclear burns myself, I wasn’t dying quite yet but I was also in pretty bad shape too. We do manage to pick ourselves out from the rubble that is Ngee Ann City but with Kira on our toes, we struggle to make haste to survive. Andy goes first, and I cry out loud as I hug him until I myself go a few moments later.
8.17 am.
It was not easy, but I manage to calm down and persuade myself to continue sleeping – hugging my bolster most tightly for security.
The rest of my Sunday was considerably less exhilarating, and I made sure that for the most part, it stayed that way. I was still reeling in from last night’s outing with Darren – I felt bamboozled into spending more money than I had expected, especially when I “allegedly” spent two-thirds more on food AND karaoke than Darren. To console myself, I would recall Titus mentioning how stingy and calculative Darren can be – how he’d keep the receipt and calculate how much he paid, and how much everybody else should, in his own opinion, pay… How he’d conveniently mis-calculate the 17% tax… I really hate it when people add the prices of their dishes up, then add 17% to that price, and assume that’s the price they oughta pay – it doesn’t work like that! I know what you’re thinking – how does this make me feel better? Well, you can learn a lot about people from the littlest of things. That’s why I’ll never agree to going on a trip with him E.V.E.R.! It’s generous of him to offer his company, but thanks, but no thanks.
In fact, the only thing I’ve lined up for this weekend was for the next event.
While Titus initially said he’d invite me to his actual birthday day party at Resorts World’s Hotel Michael, I didn’t actually receive any invitation. I didn’t quite mind actually, since I’ve been rather busy the past week and I couldn’t take leave anyways. Nevertheless, he included me at the end of his week-long celebration, which was a more subdued affair compared to how he had been celebrating the past six days. Before you think anything whack, I assure you that it’s not anything like Jim Sturgess’ 30th. Together with Jason, an acquaintance that I was briefly introduced to the last time Titus and I went to PLAY to club, and Terence, a new friend of his, we had a seafood buffet dinner at Mushroom Pot at Orchard Point. Located at the fourth level of the OG “has-been” department store, it’s a quiet location and I didn’t even know it existed until today! It’s a hotpot restaurant – you cook your meat in a shared pot of broth – it’s all very communal and unhygienic if you think about it, but on a winter’s night, it’s slightly heartier and cosier than sitting by the fireplace, drinking egg nog while watching classic black-white Christmas movies like Gone With The Wind, I Love Lucy or The Wizard of Oz all alone.
As far as hotpots go, Mushroom Pot wasn’t fantastic, but it wasn’t horrible either. At this point of time, I was really regretting stocking up too much on my mum’s beef bolognese pasta for lunch, and was paying for it with an unusual lack of appetite. Even my usually favorite thinly-sliced beef was hardly enticing.
After that, we proceeded to Zirca for Mr. Tantric 2011. Although I had work the very next morning, I was very interested to attend this pageant. In theory, I admire the concept of the pageant because the contestants are not just parading their looks and bods, but are basically proclaiming their homosexuality to the public. However, therein lies its biggest flaw. We like to proclaim that society has changed, but the truth is that life after coming out is difficult – you may have been released from prison, but you’re still through and through, an ex-convict, trapped in a virtual prison of a different kind of discrimination which you can’t shake off. Not many people are that willing to put themselves out there, either because they’re humble or they’re not quite ready – all that’s left are people who desire the fame and recognition, and sometimes, these are not the best of choices.
The contestants this evening were to me, less than ideal, and I was largely unimpressed by them. Don’t get me wrong; I love hunky and muscular guys, and my name may be kettle, but I don’t appreciate blow-up dolls that are that size because they’ve spammed on whey protein. If you’re buff and muscular, the effort mostly yours, then I can thoroughly appreciate that, I think the audiences also recognize that.
I didn’t like the two in the middle in the picture below the most! The one on the left carried himself as a bottom-ready slut, while the guy to his right had his mouth open the entire time as if he had sucked too much cock.
