where did the vulgarities go?

i’m tired.

yesterday i had the most interesting experience with Singapore’s public transport system. drunk with heady themes seeping from the pages of my O’level literature text, To Kill A Mockingbird, i boarded the bus 853 in the evening to my church. so the youth group meeting was to start at 7.30pm. i was early, so i decided to hop down at the AMK Library to read some tabloids. then at 7.15pm, i left the library to re-board the bus 853 to church.

it was 6 stops away. planting my arse firmly down beside woman with a supermarket on her lap, i closed my eyes. six stops, later, i’d open my eyes and i’ll see my church.

six stops later, i opened my eyes. I saw a stadium.

time: 7.40pm.

Calmly, i alighted. I was so calm as noted the number of the bus: 852. I was so calm as i messaged to leader and told her i’d be at least 45minutes late.

I made a mental note that i hadn’t started unleashing all my colourful vocabulary and all the indecent references to one’s Mother in Hokkien. Usually, ‘shit’ is the first word to be verbalised, and ‘fuck it’ is the first thought that surfaces in my head. For the first time in my life, i was actually not letting off steam.

I had no idea where i was. There was a stadium and a few blocks of flats separated by a highway, but at night, Singapore looks the same, whether you’re in Kallang or Woodlands. To my surprise, i began humming R.E.M’s Imitation of Life as I crossed the overhead bridge to take the bus back to square one.

And like an idiot, i waited for 15 minutes and took the bus back to the library (and i had to climb another overhead bridge), where i waited for 853 and reached church at 8.15pm.

And i left my house at 6.15pm.

Then i realised why i was so sedated. I was simply tired. Not the kind of tired that happens after a game of badminton, nor the kind of tired after a long day at school. It was a kind of a vacuum, an immense plastic bag full of nothing that was stuck somewhere between my windpipe and my brain. A choke. Blood wasn’t flowing. The buzz had gone the only thing that got me interested was food, sleep, and the occasional sighting of a hot guy.

I told my friend about it. “hey, you’re finally BECOMING LIKE A NORMAL PERSON!” she laughed.

If normal is being sedated, then i’d rather be a howling lunatic anytime. I want to cry, scream, laugh and screech when i’m not supposed to. I want feel every single emotion. I want to blast off like a rocket with colors spilling from all sides.

I don’t want to be tired. Please, let me cuss normally again.