I'll tell you, I'm afraid of silence. I'm afraid of the inhumanity that exists in silence, and I crave the humanity that will never be present in silence. Silence is unnatural. I could never sleep in silence; I would switch on the television outside and put it on mute just to hear the white noise, or turn on the dehumidifier to hear its whirring hums.

When you don't talk, I cower. The effeminate side of me emerges, I become paranoid - I would do ANYTHING for you to talk! I could built a skyscraper and jump off it and built it again, I would do it over and over and over until you pull me close and tell me, "I'm fine, I'm here."

Sojourn@KentVale

So a few seconds before I started typing this post, we were discussing about the cats I was taking care at Dr Hecht's place. Just to give you guys all a heads up I've been living for the last month at Kent Vale, an idyllic condominium for the professors and lecturers professing and lecturing at NUS.

Why?

Because Dr Hecht left for Baltimore, Maryland to return back in the arms of his family. Eight brothers and sisters, lots of nieces and nephews. Phew.

How does this concern you then?

So there isn't anyone back home at Kent Vale to take care of the cats. Enter me, protector of all cats slim and fat. At first glance, I might not seem like a "cat" sort of guy, but at second glance, you would realize that I REALLY, am not a "cat" guy. On the contrary, I look like a Homo Caninus, sound like one (whenever I bark out commands hurhur get it), and act like one (when I don't get my deserved good-bye kiss, very rare). Like dogs, I have sharp features, a chipped tooth, extremely sensitive ears and black-and-white vision.

Kidding, I just tell racist jokes but I do not condone racism.

not pictured: me

Now, cats.

Max (black) and Barney (tortoise-shell) are two felines I've taken under my care for the past month, and with much pleasure. They are very stress-relieving, when they don't fight or jump all over the house. I got a bloody shock when I first met the two boys back in June; they were the Fattest cats I had ever seen. Fat with a capital F. They were practically obese, them lumbering pieces of cat fat. They were fats with cat legs. Fats with cat legs. And to back it up, they had serious cat attitude, aka cattitude.

Back in June, if they talked, they totally would have sounded like this:


JS: Holy shit! Dr Hecht, why are they so fat?
Barney: Meow. I see my body as a way to transport my head somewhere. Meow.
Max: Meow food now you asshead meow!
JS: MEOW! How are you guys! Barney's so cute, and Max's so playful... HAHA! I'll be taking care of you all till July!
Barney: Food now, please. Meow.
Max: Meow fuck you meow piece of shit meow meow yellow dicktard FOOD NOW FOOD! meow.
JS (to Dr Hecht): Ah. They look a teeny wee bit antagonistic. Do they hate me?
Dr Hecht: No, they just want you around more often. I'm sure you guys will have fun!
Max and Barney, simultaneously: Meow, HELL NO!

In recent weeks, they have remained unchanged, as cats are wont to do. They budge for nobody except the occasional non-movable object in the house . They worry about nothing except when the taller cat doesn't fill in the food bowl or top up the water basin, at which they would mewl continuously at me while I attempt to read the newspapers.

When I sit on the sofa to watch the TV, the cats would often jump up and siddle close to me. Finding my left outer thigh uncomfortable, Barney would traverse the two hills of thigh to sit by my right. Give him 10 times to make that arduous journey, and 10 times he would place immense front paw pressure on the valley, inducing huge shock and an involuntary gasp.

But they deserve their credits. These cats are so clean, and they don't shit or pee anywhere else in the house other than where they are supposed to. Many people have fancy perceptions (and superstitions) about cats, e.g. that they are really dirty and all. But the fact is, they are probably much cleaner than you, the reader. None of them smell at all. Odorless. Tautology.

Just recently Chiling had a kitten running into her house, and we wanted to keep it but Aunty thought it unlucky (its feet were white, probably alluding to the emptiness under a floating wraith) and with the maintanence fees and all.

On a more supranatural note I do believe the two cats at home are "half in, half out" for the reason that I can scare superstituous people reading my blog. Them cats? They're normal, although Max sometimes looks really creepy because of his green eyes and his total... darkness. Though I admit, yes, they do know how to manipulate human feelings by imitating the sound of a crying baby so well, I HAVE to give them attention, or be accused of being an unfeeling prick.

I'll be moving out tomorrow, back in my messy lair that's now under a fine layer of dust. But I'll clean up.

___________________________________________________________________

I will miss the sunset. The consummate glow of lamppole amber and sky violet quivering and throbbing sensuouly under the lobster red sun. The deep yawning call of a lone ship as I breakfast solo in the morning, the ribbons of water treading behind as I watch them leaving port.

Leaving for home, where a new adventure awaits them.

Crystal Jade - summers of DIMSUM!

I'm back. With a vengeance.

Finally, a place where I can tap "enter" and the flashing vertical line doesn't skip two spaces down, ala WordPress. More room for maneuvering.

But before I post anymore, I have to leave for a lunch appointment at Vivo-city.

"Where are we having lunch?"

"Crystal Jade."

- thinks of hot steaming siew mai -

"See you at 12.30."