Monday, November 3, 2008

childhood scares

Where shall I start. It is the second last day of school, and I hardly feel any sorrow or despair.

Because 4L seems to be able to last forever, anywhere, anytime. Maybe it's because I've faced a couple of losses in my life, and all I think about everyday is today, and then tomorrow. Hardly think about the past.

Like, what I ate for dinner yesterday, or further back, what utensils I used for dinner.

Was it the SIA one, or was it the SilkAir one?


Just realised my parents used to take utensils from every airline they went on.


Today I'm going to talk about my childhood scares.

Erm...my earliest one was when I was just 5, and barely starting to read. My first few books were like, The Three Little Pigs, Red Riding Hood, The Three Billy Goats, yeah those.

I entirely remember the Three Little Pigs coverpage of the Ladybird book, because it was so damned scary ok. Like, really scary, it showed a profile picture of a freaking wolf, all dark and furry.

What, some criminal mug shot to scare kids? Go screw yourself Ladybird.

Anyway these books were always kept in the storeroom, so it was dark and scary, and everytime I wanted my dad or my mum to read the books, I would like, run in and take the books out, because the distance was especially huge.

I think I could cross the entire room today in probably 3 steps. Then, it felt like some dastard farmer grew couple of weeds in the room for me just to get the books.

Anyway I could never reach the lights, and often I just ran in and then out of the room just to get those books. Argh! If only there were Internet. I could just google and then read it.


My second biggest scare (6 years old) was a newspaper article I read about a game of tug-of-war which ended in a 'broken arm'. Those two words absolutely freaked me out, because I've never seen or heard any kind of mutilation before until that fateful night. I couldn't contrive how it could be possible that an arm could be 'broken', and I remembered myself sitting there in the living room with my mum, with just one light on and the TV dimly tuned to Channel 8.

I kept asking whether the whole arm came off, and whether IT COULD COME AND FIND ITS WAY TO MY BEDROOM.

I never managed to comprehend that it was just the bone instead that was broken, and I was constantly hearing from my mum never to play tug-of-war or tie the rope around the arm in order to gain more leverage.

Now I'm thinking, which human being will tie a rope end around his arm just to get leverage? Well, many. But hell, the other team was stronger, and the sudden force just made his whole arm pop.

I didn't sleep for most of the night, kept freaking staring at the doorway for that arm.

It never came.



And now, for the top of the list, my scariest childhood moment ever.

Watching Michael Jackson's album, Thriller.

Erm, you know the part where Jackson finishes the song, and then turns his head around to show those yellow wolf-eyes of his? Go find yourself a sink and drown in it, Jackson. You entirely killed my childhood sunshine the moment I saw those.

For goodness sake, what else could I have been expecting? I thought he was just going to smile at the camera, hell, he came up with some stupid wolf-eye that made me crap in my pants. I think I didn't sleep for days after that, it was all just memorising the multiplication time table and mumbling off till I actually fell alsleep.

Then again it probably felt like hours when I was young, but nowadays, keh, put it to minutes.

I have loads more actually, like how I ran around a table when my mum tried to cane me, and kept running and running around the table, until she sort of realised that the cane was long enough to whack me from that distance. How stupid could I be.

I remembered I always kept worrying about something under my bed, and I always forced myself to sleep UNDER THE BED just for a little while to confirm there wasn't anything there.

The journey to sleep on the bed to under was long and torturous, but through willpower, I managed something that I would find utterly stupid today.

Should I attempt to sleep under my bed, I would pray so hard that I don't get any bad dreams, or that I don't feel like taking a piss in the middle of the night.

Otherwise...

I'll be pissing blood from my head.



Today's Rachmaninov rehearsal was good enough, managed to memorise everything without screwing up anything. I'll also be preparing for Ravel on Wednesday. And Griffes on Thursday.

Oh shit (sugar!) oh shit. There's still Griffes. It's a fun piece to play, but that means I have to get ready three different pieces for this week. After Thursday, I'm free!

And free never fails to mean fun.

Fun and free is good.

Fun and free is the church.

I'll go worship on Friday.





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