You take your own medicine

It’s yet another shit week for me; things are seriously not going quite my way. I don’t expect anyone to know how my week was and I never intend to share one and it’s normal for me to not give a shit about being shitfaced at work but things are getting a little bit out of hand. My life has never ceases to be so amazing, if you tell me your life is boring I beg to differ because the world always seems to have funny endings for me. I have no idea why and I’m quite tired of searching for an answer to a question which has no answer on a daily basis. On the day I felt I could see the light at the end of the tunnel only for me to find out the light coming from the headlamps of an incoming train. And yet on my wonderful day, when I run at full speed, I run into a shithole.

I can’t tell you how I manage to refrain myself which seriously not an easy task at all, wanting to scream to the world what is not right and how things should be but I came to my senses and realized the answer to the ultimate question of the world, “Do they give a shit?" is actually NO. In fact it’s more of a feeling of disappointment with myself, how could it be possible for someone to walk into the same shithole for two fucking weeks in a row, that’s me you idiot and how could it possible for someone to be made a fool by the same person twice, that’s me again. That fucking shithole hurts but ironically my subconscious mind still thinks the shit actually taste better. On top of that, I have let myself down considerably on what I thought I had in me that was the master of supreme self confidence most of you have accustomed to hate. Being emo, I spent my weekend staring at the wall (partly thanks to being immobilized from banana leaf that I had), depressed, nostalgic and consumed lots of pineapple juice. I don’t know about you but pineapple juice calms me down. It hurts so badly that it aches physically, that the frustration and grief welling up inside is close to drowning me, that it left a scar on my heart that will take years to heal and that every fiercely hidden drop of sorrow endlessly streaming down my cheek if you believe me. All these have to be stop, I said. I sat down and began to ponder on my next move. My eyes turned to the waiter, “I’ll have air kelapa mix vodka kurang manis.” It tastes good, just the way I like it. Four years into the job, motivation level has dropped below zero but the pleasing aspect of the comfort zone coupled with the idea of facing tough interviews; achieving an IQ score of not less than 90%, 5 case studies in an hour, 3 essays writing in half an hour, public speaking in front of 25,000 spectators and finally a resistance test of swimming from Cuba to United States had put matters into perspective or rather not. No more pussiness, I’m getting a new job and Goldman Sach will have my first honour.

My friends were late. While waiting for them, I managed to make a few key observations about myself. Yes, that’s what we auditors do, we observe. We observe every movement of yours, you losers. Now, go buy me some drinks and I will write a good report. Two nights ago, when I was driving around PJ, I stopped at a traffic light beside a well polished Mitsubishi Lancer (many said a direct competitor to my civic) and I was taken aback when I turned and saw the driver; a stunningly hot, long-haired creature of such beauty that I literally caught my breath but it was only lasted a good ten seconds for after that she started to dig her nose, stuffing a slim, feminine finger up her nostril and started violating the hole in obvious pleasure. "Holy fuck!!” I shouted. It was like getting into bed with Jessica Alba and finding out that she has a penis. Okay, back to main topic, I realized 3 key points about me that highly contributes to my shitweek: 1) Ability to talk in such convincing manner people around me actually thought I was good despite the fact I absolutely know nothing at all on the subject which then translates to me being given extra responsibilities which I had so much difficulties in completing it. 2) Inability to stop thinking; you know when you had an interesting conversation with someone or you had read something fascinating or you picked up a new hobby or you had experienced a significant event, you can’t stop thinking about it and your brain will take some random thoughts from each event and churns it together and make a good storyline that will occupied your mind which then makes sleeping impossible. 3) I get bored easily and I can’t focus on one thing for long. I truly suffered when I look at the set of accounts which I need to rush for Bank Negara because I spend at least 40 minutes worrying about paying my credit card bills, another 30 minutes on how to turn from one pack into six and what to have for my dinner, when my job is hanging on the line and I know I'm going to complain about lack of time.

Needless to say, I’m able to draw line between such formless thoughts/dreams with reality. There is nothing to worry about although sometimes when I speak I use 3 different languages in one sentence. I rather see these as mental conditions and not problems. It’s who I am and I hope I come across as pretty much normal to most of you. To allay any fears, a post mortem was immediately carried out with a hastily assembled group of highly acclaimed professionals in their respective fields. It was agreed that my mental conditions is nothing more than a state of existence where you wander around without any clothes on and no one notices until it is too late. It is often metaphors of your suppressed thoughts and feelings; it is possible that your mind induced to believe that you are a butterfly you will wake up to find yourself a dragonfly. Many argued that such unstructured behavior is the Jews way of controlling your mind and despite being heavily mixed I am not a Jew and hence I’m perfectly fine.

And out of sudden, it dawned on me, a solution to the above: I need a holiday! I had the bright idea to bring my close mates together for a mad-ass holiday getaway to Phuket, Thailand, getting together for a jaunt to a beautiful tropical island to dive (maybe not), eat (gorging on wonderful Thai food), drink (yes, getting piss-drunk) and make the acquaintances of a large number of attractive foreign ladies with loose bikini strings but I know like many times before to get this faggots for a holiday is like braving Africa dessert alone and killing at least two tigers along the way. For now, air kelapa mix vodka kurang manis seems more a realistic option for me. Apart from getting it cheap, I feel this entire process is healthy for the mind; it’s a vital form of release where you forget everything that happens to you though excessive consumption will lead you to talk extra loud and fast (first warning sign) before you proceed to spit on people’ faces while talking to them.

I know exactly what went through your mind when the news of censoring the internet filtered out, both you and I aware we are facing our worst fear but thank God, it did not materialize. There is some light after all.