There’s this guy I was on the elevator with earlier. He was wearing one of those hair waxes–the dry type–but his hair wasn’t as messed up as it should be. I mean, it defeats the purpose of wax if you don’t make your hair look like one of those out-of-bed ones. His was just like, okay, I’m wearing wax.
I was getting this itch to grab his hair violently and mess it up for him, but I was afraid of getting kicked out of the company for violent bipolar reactions, so.
—
Nayna said there should be a soundtrack for every day. I said, there should be a soundtrack for every fucking moment. Well, minus the cuss part.
I stepped out unto the sunshine this morning after having breakfast with Dei at McDonalds and catching up on each other’s lives. Dei. I love her. She’s the only one remaining around here who understands the beautiful complications of mixed anxiety, bipolarity, and schizophrenic tendencies. She’s a nurse, by the way. But she psychoanalizes me sometimes. She analyzes my stupidities, I listen and love her for telling me truths about her life.
So I was waiting for one of them blue The Fort buses because I was planning to go EDSA bound, and I was in the area anyway–no cabs for today. I told Dei I love doing that sometimes–riding an unusual bus and going around the Fort area and pretending it’s Singapore; or going around Manila with earphones and British music and pretend I’m in some other part of the world. I like sitting somewhere wondering, I wonder if this is how Malaysia feels, or how it’s this cold in New York in the summer, or how maybe Mumbai is this jammed. So I stood at the curb and flicked that random happy button, and it usually plays anything random when I do that the shortcut way.
And here, is my beautiful morning song of the moment. Thank you Goldfrapp. Try listening to it when the sun is illuminating all the beautiful new glass of the tall buildings around you with the wet dew of the morning:
It’s a blue, bright blue Saturday, hey hey
And the pain’s starting to slip away, hey hey
I’m in a backless dress on a pastel ward that’s shining
Think I want you still
But they may be pills at work
Do you really wanna know how I was dancing on the floor?
I was trying to phone you as I’m crawling out the door
I’m amazed at you, the things you say and that you don’t do
Why don’t you ring?
I was feeling lonely, feeling blue
Feeling like I needed you
Like I’m walking up surrounded by me
A&E
It’s a blue, bright blue Saturday, hey hey
And the pain’s starting to slip away, hey hey
I’m in a backless dress on a pastel ward that’s shining
They gotta watch you still
But they may be pills at work
How did I get to accident and emergency?
All I wanted was you to take me out high
And I was feeling lonely, feeling blue
Feeling like I needed you
Like I hoped you’d call and hoped you’d see me
A&E
Well, it’s really a rather fucked up song, but I don’t mind. Elevator music. No, no–mood elevator. I love it. What’s yours?
