Transcendence of Inspiration

I have two words for you - writer’s block.
That is what I have been experiencing for the past, oh, about a month or so. It’s been quite a while since I had the urge to update my blog. You see, my updates usually happen after I’ve experienced an epiphany and that was what has been missing recently – a revelation, a stroke of an idea, an inspiration. And for the past two days, I have been getting them by the bucket loads. Not generally huge independently but more of a scatter of intrinsic ingenuities. That’s why when Acai coined the idea of me applying for a freelance columnist for any leading newspaper in the country I was a little less confided in myself because of moments like these. When you have writer’s block, hey, you have writer’s block. It’s not something you can whisk away with a Panadol or a brief drive around town. To conjure up something in writing which was evoked by a certain event that inspires the writer so much that he wishes to share those memoirs with the people around him and to enjoy that solitude in the purest essence as he had felt it, I believe, is an art form. And, as one distinct character from Toy Story 2 once said, “You can’t rush art,”

Sadly, though, I just came back from watching my next of kin in terms of electronic devices, the idiot box which is TV, and the most horrid thing had happened. Only a day after celebrating its victorious bid for the 2012 Summer Olympics, London was rocked by a series of explosions throughout its public transport system. Well, the ones that mattered actually. The main stations of the tube (the underground railway system) and a double-decker. Those poor people. Even though they are thousands of miles away, one cannot feel anything but sorry for them. I wonder if I know anybody in London right now. Most likely my high school friends but so far I couldn’t recall any of them going there to further their studies. Either that or the ones who DID go was so unpopular that I didn’t even bother to make a mental note of their educational excursions. Well, let’s move on to more important matters – my life.

Well, I must say my inspiring moment came yesterday at, what better place, Chili’s KLCC. Actually, that’s not true. There is a better place than Chili’s KLCC. To me, the definitive Chili’s outlet in the whole of Kuala Lumpur has to be the one at Bangsar Shopping Centre. I have fun memories at KLCC but I have fond ones at BSC. Will you look at that. Now, where does all that come from? I tell you, at certain moments, out of the blue, I can come up with some ingenious one-liners that could snuggly fit into those Hallmark greeting cards. However, my best has to be “You are my blue moon – rare and beautiful”. I was so amazed by myself then that I was gaping in awe. It was about late at night and I was standing on the driver’s side of Valerie and, equivocally, I was penning a birthday card. I didn’t know what to write so I looked up into the sky and there it was, this smeared giant cotton ball which is the moon. It was in its usual white-like manner but out of nowhere did that blue moon phrase just pops out of my mouth. And for that instant I knew it was the perfect line, so I engraved it in black ink onto the card, in my lamest attempt at impressive handwriting.

Anyway, back to present times and there I was, viewing the KLCC Park fountains doing their ‘dance’ from the 3rd floor of Suria. It was probably the first time I ever went to Chili’s alone and I rather quite enjoyed it. I used to go to these fine dining outlets by myself, especially during my internship (oh those were the days) and entertain myself to a proper quite dinner where the waiters/waitresses are always pleasant and smiling, conveying which is known to be comprehensible English and not an inept version from a 3rd world country. Not so much for hunger but for the tranquility of the occasion. Sometimes it is, just about the food. Not the hot babe sitting across the table. I used to go to Lazaar but they have closed since then, in place now a middle-eastern themed restaurant which just isn’t my thing. Divulging myself in those heavenly mashed potatoes I thought, this wasn’t a bad idea after all. I already skipped lunch earlier that day because I just didn’t had the appetite but then at 5 pm, your belly is beginning to make strange noises. And being in the evening, the place was loose, not crowded as it would at 2 pm. It was quaint, subtle and the sun is setting. I have always thought that KL looks so much better at night. The city seems to make more sense. The other time is after a heavy downpour.
I was flipping through the latest KLue and just like the previous issue, it’s brilliant. Some bloke spoke highly of last month’s cover of a girl licking on a cone of ice-cream. He said, after spotting a cover like that, there’s no way he’s not getting a copy. To my astonishment, I didn’t even realize that licking crescendo. For someone who sometimes can be defined as ‘shallow’ I should give myself a pat on the back for overlooking cosmetics and was more interested in the depth of the magazine. Speaking of being shallow, oh before that, those of you who has the latest KLue (if you don’t, get one) check out Brian Yap’s article. This guy’s one brilliant of a writer. Very insightful and congenial. I hope I can write as good as him one day. Now, about that shallow thing, after my indulging romance with the sundae brownie, I came across this most captivating looking young lady I have seen in quite a while. She was with her girl friend (which, sorry to say, not as pretty as her) and she dressed as casual as you like. The usual T-shirt and jeans and a plopped-up hair do. Now, I’ve always found it sexy to be able to view the back of a woman’s neck. Some may call it fetish but that’s open to interpretation. One of the many reasons I lose my breath every time a woman decides to pull back her hair to readjust. Anyway, this girl was gorgeous okay, and I would do anything to get her name and number but the problem was, well, a few actually, one would be the guard-like stance her friend was taking as if to fend of any potential predators for her pretty friend. I can tell you, it was a bit intimidating. Reminds me of the ogres from Warcraft. The second problem was that I had no idea what to say. Usually my mind would conjure up something but not this time. I was numb. And finally, my worst fear is that she could be just 17 – or 18. And that would’ve been some embarrassment and believe me, I’ve made that kind of mistake before and I plan not to revisit that experience anytime soon. So, there she was all gorgeous and everything, and I did thought of going up to her and say, “Hi, I think you are absolutely lovely and I would like to take you out to dinner,” but I’m not sure it’ll work these days. It used to. Frank Abagnale Jr. made it look so easy when he’s trying to cash fake cheques with a bank teller. Maybe I’ll ask this intriguing question to some of the ladies I know. What does it take for a decent (yes, I rank myself as decent, with a charming personality) stranger to take her out for dinner, or even a drink perhaps. As for the girl, well, we exchanged glances for the last time as she queued for RotiBoy but at the end of the day, I didn’t catch her name, she didn’t catch mine, that was that, end of story.
Funny thing about Suria. There are always beautiful people there. Probably the primary reason I like to spend my time there in search for inspiration. People always dress up when they go to Suria. It’s like an event in itself. Whether you’re with your family, your friends, or out on a date or even heading up to your office in the Twin Towers, they always look good. My brother, who works at KLCC, is so used to this ambience (gorgeous people in designer labels) that when he was assigned to Putrajaya for a few days, he came back one night and said that people in Putrajaya do not dress that well. A notion he concluded after taking stroll around Alamanda during lunch hour. My mother had this to reply, “Well, most of them are government officers, what did you expect? You can’t compare them to the crowd at KLCC,”. I guess that’s true. Being a government officer herself, I don’t think you can really argue. Which brings me to another question. Why oh why do most “fashionable” women I came across these days have designer handbags the size of shopping carts slung over their shoulders? They’re massive! And they look so impractical. I know they are a kind of statement like, “oh look at me I have a Gucci/Fendi/Prada/LV handbag and I am the envy of every women despite my below than average looks,” but surely you can’t dispel practicality altogether. Wasn’t handbags are supposed to serve just that purpose? Practicality? Some of them could even fit dogs inside with enough room to play catch. And these ‘storage’ handbags never really looked properly used. I could bet that the most they have in there are their handphones and their purse, nothing more. A few cosmetics items, I suppose. I could put all of those in my trouser pockets for goodness sake. You don’t need giant designer handbags to carry those miniscule items. Looks upon reason? I guess so, sadly.

It’s already Friday morning. Luckily, I have no classes today. A bit of a break as you may call it. Soon I’ll be finishing my course and hopefully pass the examinations. And to continue my adventures of becoming an auditor. Yeay~! I’m elated basically. Excited. Just it seems so strange that my life would be so dictated by numbers. A thought that never occurred to me when I was 17. Speaking of which, convocation is coming up, about bloody time too. Initially, I planned to get a job maybe a few months after ending the final semester and be employed until August, when my convocation will commence. I would save a few thousand quids and get myself a lean Hugo Boss suit. Or even an Armani. As you guessed it, things didn’t go quite as planned. I never got a job offer. Some of my engineering student friends have already ended their studies while I’m still contemplating about my coming final examination. And my earnings, more like allowances were only RM1000 for each month. That’s Rm3000 for the 3 month course and the only chance I have of getting a Hugo Boss suit is if I don’t spend any of those RM3000. Knowing me and living in the city, how could that even be possible? I saw 2 Weeks Notice recently and Hugh Grant had this lovely suit. Pinstripe. White shirt and this exquisite complementary purple-ish maroon tie. It looks good. Makes me want to follow suit. Although, I must admit the white shirt does look a tad cliché but I suppose that wouldn’t harm as much. And Donald Trump, urgh, what is wrong with that man? One of the most influential and powerful people in the business world and he is rarely caught without a pink tie. Would someone please advise him to wear something else? But that is the question isn’t it? Who would dare? Excuse Mr. Trump but I think you look rather silly with that tie. Boom, you’re fired. And so long aspiring ambitions to climb the corporate ladder. A concoction of sorts, ain’t it?

I’m going to indulge myself by going to a salon today. And maybe pester Ara for another drink. She blew me off a while ago, you know. It was last Friday, I think. She opted to go out with her sister to the Starbucks Music Series at uptown. Funny, I was planning to take her there too but I didn’t say of course. I could only reply, “Oh really? The Starbucks series?” and she went like, “eh, how’d you know?” duh, I’m not THAT lame. I may be the lesser creature in terms of popularity but there are a few things that I am well aware of. Well, I guess you can’t win them all. And yes, in real life, good guys sometimes lose. Funny how I am going to end this entre by downgrading myself. Oh check this out, I was just reminded by an email that I have a personalized website on my name. I totally forgot all about it. It ‘s at http://faizad.terrashare.com
I couldn’t remember the reason why I created such a site to begin with. And to start off, there’s nothing there actually. Just a proclaimer that it belongs to Swanky. Man I haven’t used that nickname for a long time.
Well, I think I better get going. Papers are already coming out, declaring 7/7. You know, as opposed to 9/11. Again, those poor people. Which makes me think, it wouldn’t be so hard for anybody to do the same here in KL. I commute almost everyday and I can say security at Putra LRT is almost non-existent. I could walk in with a bomb myself and leave it in a train and hitch myself off at the next station, getting away scot free. It’s a terrifying thought but a thought nonetheless. After this, I think it would be silly for Putra to not beef up security at their stations. It would be uncomfortable for the people but when it is about safety, well, you don’t have much of a choice, do you?
With that bombshell we have come to the end of today’s blog. Good day to all.