PoliticallyWRONG

I wish not to be constrained by my own rules that I set.
[This will be gibberish to anyone who is NOT taking constitutional law this sem]

I am not bound by any constitutional law above me. I am my own one-man parliament, and tonight, parliament has ruled that there does not need to be a picture, artistic or not, for me to post an entry. The advantages of having neither a written constitution or an opposition party, i depend on my own moral scruples, which isn't very high, but you've just got to trust me, cos I'm in power, plus you have no choice.

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As extroverted and PR as I am, I still enjoy the time of the night after the laundry is folded, and it is just me and the night, with WKRZ 91.3 blasting at the background. I have just learnt how to play the chords for the intro to Fool's Garden "Lemon Tree", and theres nothing to do except fantasize about Kyushu.

I look upon my Public Law notes with disdain, and a dull pain rings out in my head: reminding me that I have only 8 months left in Singaporean soil. Tick-tock. The SG bumiputra who has always taken everything around him for granted is now taking new evaluations of the environment around him. True, the city is still as sterile and mercenary and loveless as he remembered, but the knowledge of an impending loss throbs through him and he begins to sense that this might be the pasture, though not as green as green can be, is still, nonetheless his pasture, with Jap fascination just merely an exciting sideshow, an orbit of the moon, while the base was still planet earth, here. I wonder if the propaganda of "Singapore, my home" has finally, subconsciously made its way throw to the deepest marrow of my bones, but perhaps, not akin to the confucianist "Shared values", this one I actually personally believe.

The exclamation that I can be transpanted anywhere in the world and thrive is probably delusion at best. Globalization brings about the much-admired "jet-set life" but I aint no bourgeise, ain't no British/American Passport toting white whom customs officials bend over backwards to placate. I am YELLOW. Which, isn't much better in the heirarchy of colours of the world. Before you lamblast me for living in colonial days and having the MJ-Syndrome, let me clarify that I am actually glad that i did not get my first choice. (Which, was England, oh! Long live the queen!)

Why not England?
For one, my fascination of the country borders on the obsolete. This was the land that i have read about in Emily Bronte's "Wuthering Heights", Sir Authur Conan Doyle's "Sherlock Holmes", poems by DH Lawrence and such. Rolling moors, Cobbled streets a la Harry Potter's secret village. English tea at 5pm and smiling shopkeepers as implanted in my mind by Roald Dahl (Read "Boy", and tell me that the illustrations do not make you love England, with all its.... Englishness. You can't put a finger to it.) Yet now, i know that I would be terribly dissapointed if I were to go, for England has now become a mere suburb of the Global Village, with Macdonalds at every street, and COffee Republic at every walk. What should I have for lunch today? Fish and Chips perhaps. They don't even call them Fries. How very English. No. I would not be able to take a whole year of waking up to reality. Apparantly there are now more Indian restaurants in the greater London area than that of Delhi and Bombay combined (cf: Pico Iyer's "The Global Soul"). Plus, even though I speak English as well as any of those Brits, I would never be seen as an equal? why? The colour of my cup on my desk: yellow. *Insert Coldplay's song of that same title* No, this is not inferiority complex. Its more resignation than anything. I am not some bra-burning female activist during the emancipation demanding for women's rights. Yes yes, if everyone was like me, the injustice would just propagate and stay.


Which, long-winded as it seems, brings me back to Kyushu. I will just be a visitor, yes, but living off courtesies without social responsibility sounds just about right for this inconsiderate punk like me. Then again, being a gaijin (外人) has its perks. No one bothers you, except for the occasional request for a free English lesson. I know the Japs are as racist as the brits, but at least they are friendly and accomodating to foreigners because they know that they (me) are learning.

Perhaps its another delusion of mine, but indulge me, I need all the happiness i can get.






PS: (for all those who finished reading this pseudo-article, claim a drink credit from james at the arts canteen yea)