Hello my dears. I am back, at least for now one supposes. I see that I have to apologise, yes I can see your smug face over there, thinking that oh here he goes apologising again. I do owe you an apology I suppose. After all, the fracas over the sorting of mundane chores that came with the re-opening of the new academic term has finally ended.Now, one can sit back and relax, at least for a while. For a short while. Before things start to turn chaotic yet again, as if Hell had descended upon Earth. Come to think of it. It does look like Hell on Earth now. And perhaps, I shall soon possess my own version of it as my work comes by the truckload. Four modules of Literature I shall be taking and so are there four ways to die. One module per se is already heavy enough, what with the number of required texts in it. But no, I have to take four, just to see how I will die terribly. A bloodbath? Most likely.
But I digress. I shall not be so rude as to impose my insignificant and mundane rantings upon you, my precious reader. For I believe you have other tomes that can give you such entertainment.
Before I try to arrange my thoughts into a coherent manner, I have to settle another chore. It seems dear Velvet has decided to shoot me with a most undesired arrow. In this dominion, they call it a tag. Now the whole theme is to share some of your unique weirdness with others. Somehow, that just sounds so wrong to me. Weirdness is only a matter of one’s perception. What seems weird in one may not be weird to another. Simple as that. But I shall endeavour to complete that task.
My first outlandish behaviour. Since those days when yours truly was still studying in a junior college (eleventh grade to others), yours truly was already given the label as an anti-social. Imagine, a verb becoming a noun. How presposterous of that! But given the flexibilty of language that my contemporaries uses today, it may not be surprising. Given that I wear a face that discourages anyone from coming within five feet, I was not amazed to learn that I was tagged with that label.
Even now, I still do have people coming up to me or to my acquaintances saying that I look like an assassin. With regards to that, I do not know whether to be pleased or sorry. Probably more on pleased.
Now for the second weird characteristic…
I am trying to think of something here, so do stop staring daggers at me will you? This is not easy, not easy at all.
Perhaps my second weird characteristic will have got to be my dress sense. Love it or hate it, I have a wardrobe that is three-quarters filled with black clothes. Many people have already commented on that why do they always see me in black and not in other colours. I guess I prefer black. It’s such an easy colour to match with. You just have to match black with black. Voila!
And as I was writing this, another arrow came. Courtesy of shyloh. This is really unexpected. Now I have two arrows on my hand. Depressing indeed. Very. Sigh.
I was just kidding. It’s cool ha.
Now the third one is with reference to my taste in music. Unlike people in my country who generally listen to either English songs, which means R&B, hip hop or ballads, or Chinese sweet love-me-till-I-die-and-I-love-you-too ballads, I listen to Japanese visual kei. Or what is known as visual rock. And some other rock bands.
Many a times people have come up to me and asked me why waste money on music that you do not understand. Before you jump to judge me, let me present to you an analogy. How many people attend Italian operas today, where those performers sing in Latin. The answer is many. And how many of those people actually do understand it? Not many.
Then you may ask again, what do they actually listen for? One reason may be that because they appreciate it. They may not understand but perhaps, listening to visual art may drive them to be apprentices, if not masters of the language. Then inevitably, in the later stage comes greater appreciation.
The same can be said of me.
I appreciate the vocal ranges of those singers, who are much more versatile and has a wider range than those of English and Chinese. When I say this, I refer to all those boybands and what-nots that the young generation listen to nowadays.
I appreciate the music. The riffs. The percussion. All those which are sadly absent in the common songs that can be found on radio.
I appreciate the efforts that these Japanese artistes have put in for the sake of art. Truly art and not being commercialized in any sense. Though one will argue that in the language of English, there are underground bands as well. Therein lies the last factor that I crossed over.
The beauty of the Japanese language. The phonetics of it. All of it sounds so wonderful rolling off the human tongue. Like a matured wind to be slowly savoured and sipped.
Lastly, Japanese music was what got me writing poetry in the first place. Without it, I would never have been writing, The Glass Rose would never have been written, and Whispers of A Blue Moon wouldn’t have been possible.
*end of edit*
Alright alright, I’m getting overtly defensive here about my taste in music. But that is just me.
Now for the fourth weirdness.
I do suppose that being nocturnal is weird? No? Usually I only turn in at around 3am in the morning. The latest, or rather, in my case earliest that I slept was at 8.30am in the morning. My mindset is that why sleep when there are better things to do, though sleeping would be a much needed good for me. Eternal sleep perhaps.
Now for one last minor weird thing.
Weird because the rest are not.
Weird because I am.
A left-hander is I.
Edit: Oh, my memory almost fails me. I am supposed to tag (what an ugly word!) five more mortal beings with this. So my companions will be….