This blog is in serious danger of turning itself into one of those self-absorbing, narcissist cum asshole type of blogspace if I am to write one more entry about me, Alvin, Alvin Woon or my obvious love for cheesecake. The last thing I want is to turn Daily Misery into another Truman show manuscript. As Daily Misery is fastly approaching 1000 unique visitors per day, maybe the time has come to show DM’s readers the background colors of my somewhat blessed life.
Of course, life is never about you or me, its more like a self-evolving experience involving people around you - its more about the guy/girl next door. Dont get me wrong, I appreciate that you guys love to read about what I’ve posted so far, but it would mean a whole lot to me if 10 or 20 years from now, if I happen to have the chance to reread back some of my postings, that my circles of friends or just people I brushed through during this time this year will also feature in this little history book of mine. I want to write about that hot chick who I buy coffee from every morning when I walked through Old Father’s Hall. Its about the African American guy next door who always say ‘Yo wassup’ whenever we bump into each other. Its about this guy in my work place who has a striking resemblance to Sylvester Stallone. Its about this China girl who always says sorry to me even though she’s done absolutely nothing wrong. Its about my roomate who has developed a somewhat interesting habit of ironing his shirt at 12 o’clock midnight. It’s about something that’s not about me.
Well, tonight, its about this girl with her rabbit, Lilo. I have known Joyce for like 2 years (give or take a few months). You have never seen a one million dollar smile until you’ve seen Joyce’s smile. Its that captivating. She’s one of those people when you told her you’ve just killed someone, she would say “oh, so what are you going to do? Do you want me to come over?”. That little cutie pie wrapped warmly around her arms is Lilo. See I have never doubt how passionate girls can get when it comes to this whole pet thingie - they probably would DIE for these cute creatures. But I can never understand their taste when it comes to the naming process. Lilo the rabbit? *sigh*. I have told my gf that if we do have kids in the future, I want to be the one responsible for naming our babies.
Moving on, Joyce told me Lilo can be a bitch at times, whatever that is suppose to mean. But the way she talks about Lilo, and how she would put on different pictures of her and Lilo on her MSN display on every other days tells me where she places Lilo within the little pocket of her heart. Thing is, taking care of a pet involves a lot of responsibility, not to mention the hierarchical level of emotional pains one has to endure when that special little life has to pay a visit to the mystic land of eternity. I can never take it. I remember too well when my mom accidentally ran through my little puppy with her car when I was eight; The worst part is she died slowly with her body still shaking during the last few minutes prior to her death and that little puppyish cries of her…. I didnt speak with my mom for one week. Every year, my sister and I would place flowers on that exact same place where my father and I had buried her. I probably keep the ritual going until I was like 10 or something. It was heartbreaking. It sure requires a lot courages but I am sure every single bits of it is worth many many bits of what may come through. Everyday I see Joyce, her face tells me so.
But life’s too short to worry about that. Especially when you have little creature like Lilo running around the house.
