socquilational

instincts vs impulse

Thursday, December 05, 2002

I don't have a title for this piece. Because there isn't a good word or even a good sentence to fully describe my life now.
I can't tell whether it's a satisfying life now. But it has indeed been rather enjoyable so far. The only stable income I have comes from passing my knowledge of art to a bunch of kids at the RC. Or the energy-vampires you can call them. The sweetest laugh or the hilarious questioning power comes with a price. All the mental energy you possess. They may be adorable, but unless you squeeze your brains dry, there's no escape from the smirk+doubt on their face when you fail to present them with the most reasonable answer to their multiple questions. (Reason not a norm with us, but with them.) And the question after those questions. Even before you finish with Kid A, Kid K, S, F, U, E, R, C come running to you with their screams of new questions and latest happenings from their group. That is why I become a zombie every Wednesday night. It just became Zombie Wednesday.

I should not complain. I should be thankful that they don't bitch around. Or that they don't gel their hair up looking like Little Dragon Girl, yet thinking they look like Ben Affleck. And no handphones, except mine, ringing in the middle of the class. Or discmans with Limp Bizkit screaming their heads off. I'm glad.

Oh I truly detest adolescence.