Something Something

It finally feels like I can take a breather. These past few months, by few I think we shall impose a maximum limit of 6 months, somehow I've turned into a firefighter. To "fight fire" in local military terms [so no one is confused which military it is] is essentially to be a "fireman". A fireman is one who apparently is calm, aloof and skives in the crewroom playing cards, watching TV or banging on the computer game console only to be rushed into action when an actual flame starts. So, "to fight fire" is actually to only be activated upon onset of a crisis and to be seen as skiving in peaceful times. Contrary to public belief, it is the most lazy looking ones who can be counted on to save your sorry arse in a blazing inferno.

I strive for peace. It's something I think has been robbed from me. My entire life it is the one thing I have yearned for. Some yearn for love, some for alcohol, some to be accepted, others to be a variety of other things; I want peace. Peace of mind, peace of environment, the peace that stability brings and that kinda peace you get when you wake up at odd hours of the morning without a single thought in your mind, without anywhere to get to, without any work pending without well, any stress I suppose. So, a peaceful life is a stress free life? Maybe, maybe not.

Well since I am handling either one commitment or ten others at any point of time. This utopic garden of peace only awaits me in the after life I suppose, since there is no indication that I might be getting any in the next few decades at the very least. This rush for money, money that fuels survival, this rush for education, education that nets you money to fuel survival and this rush for survival since anyone could just drop dead of anything on any given day. Wot a rush.

As I remarked earlier, I think I am in a comfortable breathing zone now. Personal, political and economic. But we all know Murphy and we all know darn luck, a few crises are just waiting beyond the undulating horizon. Roof down, Audi convertible, setting sun and that long winding road not knowing when it's gonna dip and when it's gonna rise because well it always looks straight no matter how hard you peer through your dusty Ray Bans. Ok, I've digressed into an old Western, when convertibles were actually saddled horses. And everyone wanted to be John Wayne. I'd much prefer Ritchie Valens.

Back to fire. So, I look like the "fire fighter" but in reality I've been alleged to be the "fire starter". Yes, give me any resource, even 2 rocks to produce sparks and I can give you a fire the bushlands of Australia will be proud of. I don't do haze inducing ones though, that's a tad too political for my plane of work. Maybe I am. Maybe I'm not. I say I'm not not when I'm in denial but when I truly feel I'm not. There are 2 rationales to go ahead and start a fire.

Rationale 1: You really wanted to start the fire

This occurs when you woke up in the morning and thought to yourself that there is something lacking in the mundane sequences of everyday life and could you do something to halt that? Yes you can. Box of matches, lighter fluid and a suitable target. Usually, out of sheer convenience, you end up firing the ass of the people next to you. By this it could be your folks, siblings, partner, classmates or heck even your mamak store owner.

Rationale 2: You are prodded to start the fire

People push peoples' buttons every single day. Tell me you can go through one entire day without feeling a jab of irritation at someone or something and I will trump you up as the greatest liar that lived. There are times when you don't have the desire to start a fire, well maybe because you weren't feeling cold. And then some folks come along and say, "Hey look here, I see matches". And you think to yourself, should you? And then they go "Nah, I'm asking for it. Come, show me how you set me on fire". And then they proceed to taunt, heckle and ride your nerves till the magnanimous you stands up, pick up your matches and go "Well oh well, since you really really wanted to see it. Here goes". Another [immolated] one bites the dust.

Now, it is not wrong to be a fire starter. Reason being that 95% of the people you meet deserve to be set alight and paraded through Thaipusam as another fervent devotee even. Imagine that, there's your alibi all set for you. But when you are noted to have the penchant of setting a fire, then what if one day you are set alight? What if some bloke comes up, sizes you up and just lights a Molotov Cocktail and shoves it into your pants and flees. Karma? Nyet. The problem with being identified as an individual with inherent qualities is that other humans don't get it that they are capable of the same thing. That they can light you up. That even when they do so, they aren't really wrong to do so because they just don't get it, that they are in the "fire starter" role. A bit long winded. The gist is this. Know your role, jabroni.

I just thought of a great analogy. It's like 2 Death Row inmates sitting and chatting during lunch hour about why the other one is going to die and then both walking away thinking "Damn, this fucker deserves to die. I'm not half as bad as him". Bullshit understand?


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