Why Would I Write

Category: Thoughts

  • Elevator Silence

    Ever been in this situation? You and your friend are busy chatting in an elevator when the doors open and some strangers enter. Suddenly, all conversations halt and the floor number display is the most interesting object in the container (room?) second to your own shoes. I’ve always found that to be quite interesting – the fact that the lift becomes quieter the more people it holds. However, this rule doesn’t apply when there are more people who know each other than strangers.

    It’s not like the conversation was about anything offensive – people just feel compelled to stay quiet in the presence of strangers. Kinda reminded me of the no phone calls in trains in Japan ‘rule’ I’ve read about.

    I thought I had more to say about the subject but I didn’t so I googled the topic and found this really interesting article on elevator spaces. Elevators are basically small rooms, and that’s just how people seem to behave in confined places. This bit was hilarious:

     We would be – we would really distress people, though, if we stepped into an elevator and kept staring at the back wall, would we not? I mean, everybody else would get a little bit uncomfortable.

    Turns out there’s a lot of material you can read up on about elevators. From the article I linked, I also learned about a magazine called Elevator World. Also, unrelated but related to elevators:

    We definitely need some of these shaming elevators here
  • These Old Bones

    These Old Bones

    After leaving my last job, I kinda figured I was done with working 12+ hours/day events. Turns out, life has a funny way of catching up on you. For the past four days, I’ve been helping out at a company event (a children’s concert), and it really threw me back to my Big Bad Wolf days. Coming home just to shower and crash my aching body into bed, just to wake up the next morning to repeat the cycle. I honestly felt like my bones were sighing with relief every time I laid myself down.

    Although it has a lot to do with the fact that I’m nowhere near in shape, it brought to mind the things that I took for granted as a child. I think all the damage I brought unto myself is finally showing itself. Back then, I would read in bed, play games on my GameBoy under covers, fall asleep in funny positions, and I’d be okay (I guess you could say I ruined my eyes). These days, all I have to do is sleep on my side and wake up with neck aches for the rest of the day. It’s crazy.

    Which reminds me of this meme I saw a while ago:

    While it’s funny to laugh at such images (thanks to whoever created it), I can totally relate. I haven’t stopped using the stuff mentioned for earlier stages of life; yes, baby powder is great – especially for dealing with groin sweat, I never realized it was a thing until not too long ago when it started happening to me; deodorant and cologne is still part of my life.

    Look at what’s on my desk at this very moment:

    I didn’t plant them there for the sake of this post

    Also, I remember people telling me that Poy Sian inhalers were something old people used. I guess I was just ahead of my time.

    Now that I’m done typing this, I just realized it was a long-winded post to tell the world that I’m an old bag of bones (with loads of belly fat).

  • Nightmare/Dream

    So, I have this recurring dream. It’s the same scenario played out in different ways each time. It’s kinda terrifying, but at this point, I’ve had it so many times that I know it’s a dream while I’m dreaming. But I can never get out of it until I wake up.

    Here’s my dream last night: I’m at home, in my old house in Happy Garden. The doorbell rings, I open the door to see who’s outside. It’s a man with a gun. Now the right play would be to quickly shut the door and hide behind a wall – bullets don’t go through walls right? I never do that. Dude outside threatens to shoot me if I don’t let him in. I refuse. More people from his gang show up. They all have weapons. Soon, my front porch is overrun with men with weapons. By this time, I shut the door and try to exit my house through the back door. But these guys somehow surround my house and are waiting for me there too. So I’m stuck in my house, with nowhere to go, panicking, worried about my life. When one of them manages to enter my house and is about to attack me, I wake up.

    This dream (nightmare?) has occurred many times in the past. It’s always me, in my Happy Garden home, and the men are trying to get into my home to attack me. The other bits change. It could be day or night time, sometimes they have knives or parangs, the men look different. But I always wake up when one of them enter the house and is about to kill me.

    It feels pretty terrifying at times (I wonder if I yell out in my sleep), but I don’t do anything different. I’m not sure if I even have the option to. It’s like a movie that repeats itself now and then. I’ve become accustomed to having it, and have stopped looking for any meaning. But if there is a point to it, I wonder what it could be?

    On another note – why do you wake up just before you are attacked or killed in a dream? Is it a coincidence? Do you happen to dream right before you wake up? Does your body know that you’re going to wake up? Or do you only remember bits of the dreams before you wake up? Does dream time work like in Inception (where hours in the dream world could mean only seconds in real life)? What is my mind trying to say?