Monday 23 November 2009

Dance Little Liar

I tend to avoid putting faith in the human race. Like I once said, any race which doesn't have the merry ring of a gun shot to start you off and a finishing line where you can wave your arms in the air once you've crossed it, deserves to be looked upon with eyes full of suspicion. And the more people I get to know, or the more I get to know people (whichever is relevant) the more my suspicions are confirmed.

A little bird (to be read in the British context of the meaning) told me a few days back of how one of her friends has been showing a more unpleasant side to herself these past couple of months. The supposedly soft-spoken, modest and shy girl was slowly revealing herself to be quite the caustic, ill-willed witch who would grab any available opportunity to snidely remark on the little bird's actions. This came as quite a shock since said person was highly regarded by her peers and pressures as being a good example of 'The Last Malay Woman' standing, whatever significance that may bear.

"What are the chances of you unknowingly hurting her feelings and this is a form of revenge?"

"I don't know. But she could always be straightforward and tell me if I did any wrong to her"

"Can her change in behaviour be attributed to the normal phenomenon of menstrual bleeding?"

"As a dignified, modern day female, I am highly offended by your simple thought process that crankiness in the female species is directly linked to their monthly shedding of endometrial tissue. If you'll excuse me, I have other more important issues to focus on such as the direction of the 1Malaysia policy".

Note: the bottom half of the conversation was fabricated to add extra appeal.

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Obviously, this is a very one-sided story and I have yet to go and ask Queen Ursula about her version to the story. Then again, why would I want to? She might get angry with me or worse, turn my tail into legs and make me go above to meet Prince Eric if I poke my nose into her affairs. Plus, I have never been that close to her owing to her fondness for writhing polyps as decorations on the walls of her underwater cave.

But never mind whether I do decide to get involved or not; that is not the point. The point is, appearances are deceiving. Therefore, don't judge a book by its cover and don't judge a judge by his gavel.

p/s - I must be delirious. This post doesn't make any sense.

2 comments:

Sop said...

i want names. hope they're people i know.

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