In Continuum.

Only Through Pages


As much as I love to have my hand filled by the sweaty palm of my partner, there is a certain joy in grasping air, that emptiness that dominates the column of space on your side. Solitude is both therapeutic and murderous at the same time, though only so for the latter case with over-dosage. I love, and I appreciate the solitude that I get with myself, and as much as I love the times spent with my beloved, there is a more secret and desire for my solitudinous-self.

Yesterday was such a day when I was able to find time to spend the entire day with myself, to go salsa dancing with him. I miss the times I get with myself, just strolling down the city streets and admiring the lights, not caring a thing about the world and being anonymous in the crowd, not known by anybody or recognized. I love that feeling, and it was such a pleasure to relive that sensation all over again after such a long break.

The town on the second day of Chinese New Year is an empty one, with most of the shutters in stores pulled down and closed, I met with a lot of locked gates yesterday pacing down the sidewalk of Orchard, drenched by the early afternoon rain and here and there, dotted by puddles of water. I found my way between those, taking my time to get to the nearest Coffee Bean other than the one in the basement of Takashimaya(Since most of the building was closed).

Wheelock's Place has a Coffee Bean that holds much memory for me, and since it was a hot and humid day I decided to retreat to the outlet at the back, and managed to grab hold of a seat in the corner of the place with a cup of mocha in my hands, armed with Gone With The Wind and my iPod, I settled down in no time and began my terribly overdue times with myself.

So the afternoon went on this way, just the coffee, the music, the book and myself wearing down the slow hours. There is something about reading a book in the middle of a bustling crowd, because that seems to be the only way I can get down and read without be distracted at all. Quick fact about me: I can never read a book in proper at home, and I almost always have to rely on the quietness of midnight to force myself to read. And even so, I usually read about thirty pages and retire to bed at 3am. But yesterday's progress was brilliant! And by dinnertime which I forgot all about, I have progressed further than I expected and was excited about it. Taking a break from my book, I looked around at the people all around, and that was when it struck.

It is a hobby that was noticed only right there and then, and a hobby I am not good at just yet. I enjoy watching people all around me, what people call "People Watching", like watching birds in the wild with binoculars. Only, I didn't need any binoculars or any such apparatus, because they were all around me. People, just plain ordinary everyday people all around, minding their own businesses or conversing with others. Each moment seemed to have this really enchanting element to them, as if each wave of the hand, each scratch of their foreheads or each laughter, weaved lines of poetry in the air that spelled the most utter yet subtle brilliance.

There was a girl right behind me then, sitting across the aisle from a middle-aged man, and they were both on a lap-top at that time. The man was clearly from, or stayed for a long period of time, in the States and had a strong American accent going on. He was having much problems with his internet connection and kept asking the girl to help him out. For about half an hour he kept talking to her when she was busy on her work, and apparently she is a law student from NUS. She was obviously distressed and irritated by his constant call out for help, but she helped him out anyway. And to see her eyes roll or that smell gestures of annoyance was both amusing and humorous.

Hours later, there was a couple who came with the guy's friend, and while the male side of the couple went to buy drinks for everyone, there was an awkward air in the air as the friend faced the girl alone at the table, with their eyes covering all areas behind each other except the eyes of one another. Her legs twisted into each other, fingers rubbed against one another and her lower lip almost turned white from all the biting she was doing. The friend was kind enough to break the silence, but that - in the end - did not help at breaking the awkward situation at all.

That friend started going on and on about comics and movies, very geeky stuff. I personally found it terribly interesting, but to me I don't think that might have been the perfect topic of choice to break awkward silences, especially if you don't know the other person very well. He spoke about the Silver Surfer from the Fantastic Four series, talked about his alien homeland. Then he went on to talk how another alien race was threatening to destroy his homeland if he does not destroy Earth...something like that. Of course, afterwards he went on to talk about Epic Movie and the plot of the movie which, to be honest, doesn't have a plot at all. I pitied the girl somehow, but more on the boy because he was saying truly interesting stuff to me, but not to the girl who was right in front of him. They left swiftly after, and replaced by a Caucasian family.

The father of the family was a guy with a humongous body, but a voice that did not match at all. The mother was soft-spoken as she read the stories from a book they just bought from Borders to her son, who was sitting on her lap. Her daughter was looking through the CD she just bought, something about the top 20 greatest hits in the radio, and was going on and on to her father just how great the CD is because it has Beyonce and Christina Aguilera in it. Her father took the CD over and examined the cover in utter confusion, while the mother checked out the books they just bought. One of them was Khaled Housseini's The Kite Runner, and I had a sudden urge to say that," Hey, that's a great book." But of course, I didn't do that, and the family left with the daughter telling her mom to let her sit in the front seat because she wanted to check out the tracklistings.

Of course, I stayed there for almost seven hours straight, with a few toilet and shopping breaks in between. But I always ended up in the same Coffee Bean outlet, and the people there were always different from before. It was an interesting experience for me, and at the same time a rather strange habit to have cultivated and discovered. It may be seemed as a form of voyeurism, but I guess I wasn't peeping through a hole in the wall, watching a certain girl change out of her day dress or something. It was merely the gestures of people or what they had to say that attracted my attention, and it was fascinating how small actions suddenly meant so much to me. Like the man outside of the convenience store said in Waking Life," As the pattern gets more intricate and subtle, being swept along is no longer enough."

I am not still not too good at the craft of this habit yet, always getting caught in awkward eye-to-eye situations, with the observer always being caught by the observed. Like the time in Borders when I was looking through a section of books when an attractive girl came up next time me and took out the book "Why Do Men Have Nipples?" and commented that it was a great book. It IS in fact, a great book. But her boyfriend, friend, or brother did not share the optimism. At the title itself, he dissed the book and said that with a title like that, the book couldn't be any better. She tried to argue, but he refused to listen and walked away. As she placed the book back, she sort of caught me looking and our eyes met for a while. That was rather awkward, but I guess I just wanted to convey the message: Forget about him, you were right. It IS a great book.

Until I finally have mastered the skill, I guess I just have to look at people only through the pages of my books, like the pictures I took out of utter boredom, pathetic attempts at being artsy-fartsy. Wish me good luck on this new found interest of mine. Who knows? In this world, there is always someone watching.