Lines and Limits

You're on your way home from work, and you're doing it in style. You're decked out in the latest, trendiest clothes and accessories. A chic black top, skinny jeans, black sandals with a pretty floral embellishment, and the latest Marc Jacobs bag. You're youthful-looking, you have the lithe physique of a model, and you're over 1.8 metres tall.

You take a furtive glance at your watch.
6.40pm.
It's the rush hour.

You manage to carefully step into the crowded MRT carriage, making sure you don't bump into anyone. You stand facing the doors, and they quickly slid close with merciless precision, separating you from the disappointed commuters who didn't manage to enter the train. The train moves off, and you're left alone in the mind-numbing crowd, staring at your reflection in the dark reflective glass panel of the window.

Wait. Was that a dirty look from that guy standing behind you?
You quickly avoid his glance by looking away from the window.
But curiosity got the better of you. You look at the window again. Nearly everyone in the train is staring at you. Some of those faces were teeming with curiosity; they wanted to get a better view of you. Some faces were simply expressing their outright disgust at your appearance.

"This is normal,", you tell yourself. "I'm alright. I'm okay.".
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The above was a scene I experienced on my way home from work today, while I was drowsy from the super strong antibiotics the doctor prescribed to me to cure my tonsillitis. (swallowing hurts like mad, but talking hurts less.)

Were you wondering why the girl went through such an unpleasant experience?
I'm sure she has to go through situations like that every single day, wherever she goes.
For some reason, I felt proud for her. She's really brave; she's got the guts and determination to live her life the way she wants to.







And that's not easy, because she's a transsexual.

I guess transsexuals like her pretty much live their lives like the most of us. The initial expression of curiosity at the masculine remnants of her facial features is understandable. But incessant staring, nudging, and commenting is unnecessary and plain rude. Sigh. I feel bad for her. More people could become more understanding of them if they just tried to imagine themselves as that girl.



I've made my point. Now it's time for some little problems of my own.

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"Mind over matter is the way to go, but it's difficult not to believe in emotions."
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How am I supposed to know if I've crossed the line?

For now, I know that you're a great person. Others-centred. Definitely more talented and hardworking than me. And 16cm taller, assuming I haven't grown any taller/undergone shrinking. :P

You're my friend. And vice versa. Not exactly a close friend, for now.

At least that's what my brain is telling me.

Why is the mastermind becoming a matchmaker?

I'm usually not strongly influenced by the opinions of others, but the mastermind is making me confused this time.

Maybe it's because I casually said that it has to be mutual for it to work out. If that quote which says that the truth only emerges past midnight holds true, then I think that we have a problem here. :P
With that message, did I just imply what my brain didn't mean to imply?
With that message, did I just imply what my emotions meant to imply?

A classic situation of "the brain says no, but the heart says yes". All thanks to the mastermind.
Maybe the mastermind just picked up little squeaks of emotions from me a long time ago. I didn't even know they existed; maybe I was hiding them from myself with facts. Now, he could simply be amplifying and broadcasting those little squeaks to you. Who knows what he'll be up to next? To avoid an awkward situation, I'll believe in logic for now. There is a mutual, unspoken agreement that this is strictly friendship.

It's confusing and distracting, as with all conundrums. With our absolute lack of expertise in this..... field, I don't think it's likely to work out in that way. After all, you do expect to lose contact with me once my contract ends, don't you? I'm expecting that too. Oh well. Let's allow fate to take over and ignore this issue.

And I'm only posting this here because I *think* you don't read blogs, do you? :p



Sigh. My throat hurts even when I laugh/yawn...