Thinking Of Jewell
What was once a normal day of routine in my own little world had turned with a single thought in a single action. Ticking pages with a pencil to mark that I had already photocopied them for an update, I lost myself into a state of nothingness and then suddenly, a thought about Jewell just popped up. My once serene hours of work had now turned to reminiscence that with depression brought the worst attitude upon those thoughts.
In truth, the simplest things can turn out to be the most upsetting and as I was ticking away at those pages, oddly I thought to myself “Jewell, I’m doing this all for you”. Somehow, proof seemed derived, that my hours at work, these new ties with acquaintances, new wealth and even my ticking those pages were all a building effort to finally meet with Jewell in the future. Forsaken from forsook love, I dreamed that day where I would finally gain enough courage to make that first move and drive to Jewell’s house in my new car to where we would begin anew.
To say I miss Jewell so much is an understatement and yet, I confuse myself to know that she sparingly pops up in thought but when she does her memory creates a dramatic reshuffle of sorrow. Within those hours ensuing my initial thoughts, I became so depressed thinking that Jewell has moved on after our year or more of separation. From our shadow I fear she has moved on but just like me, I know she hasn’t and the stigma of our tortured past dwells with uncertain fire amongst the both of us.
I know that Jewell is out there, frequently thinking upon me, of our old days and of the day when we will finally get back together. Jewell and I in mind are alike and for that I truly believe we will get back together and against fate and faith I do cross, believing in my hope against all hope. In parting, with its life was the death of our Lost Years and withal, ‘twould deem a lost love indeed.
Lunch At Hound Dog
Drowning my sorrows for that hour or two until lunch, I wasn’t as fluid or animated as prior to these thoughts. However, I was satisfied when bumping into Linh downstairs who told me he was having lunch at 1:00 p.m. for the day. Needing that hour to be alone with my thoughts so that I can relieve the pain somewhat, I decided it would be best to stray from daunting places of memory and just head for Hound Dog. Assisted by a decent lady there around my age I was persuaded into trying on two or three shirts that I appreciated as well as two different pairs of pants.
Stepping into the change-room and taking my time despite her continually asking how I was doing, I firstly tried on the black buttoned shirt that had a red and gray stripe running across the Chest area making it look absolutely stunning. Trying on some spacey pants made out of parachute material of some sort, I could see these baggy pants with a tightening chord on the hip side being the next casual fashion for me to buy. They would suit my Guess shoes superbly and wouldn’t dress me up too eccentrically.
Next I tried on the cream shirt with a small blue stripe running across the Chest which made it look sophisticated and definitely clubby. Trying on some pinstripe pants as well, I figured the pants I would be able to wear to work and the button up shirt I would be able to buy on the spot. Happy with my new selection from Hound Dog, I was all the more complacent on personal appearance, being a touch fashion conscious when walking back into work.
Desiring that suave look, I walked back into work with some sushi in one hand and my Hound Dog bag in the other which undoubtedly would have raised some eyes of curiosity. Hound Dog is a benchmark for popularity and I feel that when I walked into work with that bag under my arm people’s impression of me changed to which their mental images started to flow, trying to think of me with their favorite outfit for men at Hound Dog, believing that I would have such an ensemble in my bag.
Thalia And Abram
Some other itchy comments about Friday was that of Thalia heading over to my area, most probably when Najla was at lunch. Bringing along a new conversation each time we chat which is seemingly obvious why she comes over, we began a conversation about Abram and how they both met. From what I do recall, the both of them have been going out for two years now, their meeting spot, a club.
Making me laugh at the resemblance between her getting together with Abram and her obvious attempts to chat with me, she explained the story of their seeing each other over a crowded dancefloor. It turns out she was off her head and he wasn’t in the best of sorts and as he gave her a stare that said “I want you” she decided to make the first move and they’ve been together ever since.
Thalia made it a special note to announce that those were the days she wore little skimpy skirts as if it would in some way arouse me and make me dream her up in such provocative clothing. However, seeing the picture of her and her friends, I’ve grown accustomed to thinking one of her friends is good looking, the Macedonian one. Thalia also noted that she had lunch with Shayma for the day, the girl who used to work in the legal department and ended up leaving because of her animosity for Jana.
Walking Out With Najla
With the day at an end where in the last hour Najla was already counting the clock down, the both of us headed outside together, chatting away about our happiness to be heading home. Remembering my vivid memory of chatting to Cassidy when delivering the outgoing mail downstairs an hour before, we headed towards the station laxly. Seeing Linh and Thao about to cross the street near the lights, I thought not to be a snob and with Najla headed up to meet and shake hands with them.
Mixing up the conversation well with the three of them so that neither would feel left out, I would chat with the guys first then allow them to chat with each other where I digressed with Najla. The most interesting portion of the whole conversation was my finding out that Najla has a cheerleader friend in her class at College. Upon hearing her say “She’s blonde” sparks of images flew through my head to which in sarcasm and seriousness I shouted “Well, what are you waiting for, bring her on”.
Najla laughed as she thought to comment she was a cheerleader for the South Sydney Rabbits where my comment that she would cease to exist as their cheerleader was fitting. In jest, I kept saying “Well bring her along to work for one week, we’ll give her some work experience”, sending out a subliminal message when adding “She can sit with me, I’ll give her something to do”.
Upon looking back at Linh when on the escalators he winked his eyebrow and smiled as if to say “You’re going well, keep it up” but he knew I was only speaking in jest and as we headed through the gates I farewelled them all and headed up the station to await my train.
The Girl On The Platform
Oh, what desires to present themselves so expediently upon my sight. This girl I only know as the ‘Red Polo Neck Sweater’ girl enchanted me once again with her presence, looking as mightily fine as usual. Small in stature and immense in beauty’s figure, I ogled over this mysterious girl again as she lined up two or three people to my right. Glancing over at her on occasion, I fell in love with her variety of always stunning tops along with her pants.
Friday she was wearing a thin baby blue sweater, the kind where the wool lightly sticks out. However, it was rightly thin that you could see the outline of what seemed to be a demi-cup bar, either that or a pushup that was working wonders. Her B sized boobs were absolutely perfect, held there by a taut waist, tender Chest and her being physically fit enhanced her seemingly tanned body.
When our train arrived, I was enrapt with her sitting one seat behind me but as I was the second to jump on the train, I had the opportunity to sit with her but chickened out. I have much reason now to believe that she definitely knows I’m there in the picture and that I probably have the hots for her. You can see it in the way she follows me with her eyes when I do sit myself down or how she always lines herself up so that I am in her view on the platform.
Her Voice On The Train
What I loved about this girl was that she was carting around the name of style, a Hound Dog bag in her hand. In addition, I was rewarded enough to hear her voice for most of the way home as she loved her mobile phone and her mobile phone loved her. Not having a squeaky mouse voice, she sounded strong in words for a small body, like she would be able to take care of herself, not being the type who needs a man for stability.
Looking young and tiny but tough and adherent in such a small frame, I could see her strong will would be a complete turnaround to the women I’ve had in my life that in some way depend on a man’s touch. This girl looked independent, a job, a car and with me a stable relationship that wouldn’t allow me to take away from her and her from me. For once, it would be deemed a mutual relationship, where arguments would be decreased due to my belief that she would be an honest type, speaking out instead of holding in.
Diary Of A Mad Chaos is a daily diary written from March 1996 until today, of which individual books and book series have been created, namely “The Lost Years” an exploration of young, entwined love, the “Wubao In China (猎艳奇缘)” book series which provides an extensive comparative analysis of the cultural differences between Eastern and Western societies, and the book titled “Foreigner (华人)” an exploration of race relations in Australia.
