i may be what you define as a boring human being.

oh god! that even rhymes, unintentionally.

for the past 26-going-on-27 years of my life, i will state that:

i don’t drink.

i don’t do drugs.

i don’t smoke.

i don’t do one-night-stand.

i don’t do orgy.

i don’t do flirting.

i don’t go to saunas or public bathrooms.

i don’t apply for jobs recently.

i don’t watch asian horror films.

i don’t enjoy “frasier”.

i don’t read “harry potter”.

i don’t dwell on sex.

i don’t sleep around when i’m single.

i don’t possess a to-die-for looks and bods.

i don’t have both sexual and non-sexual infidelities.

am i dead?

no, i’m pretty much alive, because i know i’ve chosen this life to be comfortable with.

and before i go on, kindly apply the words “… have never done …” on every “don’t” as well, it works both ways.

i am welcome with every single pre-conceived notion everyone already stores at the back of their mind whenever they approach me, talk to me, be it for a small talk or initiating a conversation. some of them are surprised, but other may accept it from the face-value, god only knows if it is a pretentious act of courtesy or simply doing some nods rather than just sitting still in front of me, which of course, is an uncomfortable gesture to do.

i may lie.

i may say harsh words.

i may give confusion headache.

yet, this is me, who thinks that boring is good.

who thinks that good film review writing should be based on the late pauline kael’s extremely approachable manner, or extremely serious a la the writers of ‘sight and sound’ magazine.

who thinks that it is okay to spend an evening at home, watching 1948’s black-and-white version of “hamlet”, directed by laurence olivier, as borrowed from esplanade library.

who thinks that blaming myself is the right way when other people within my surroundings start hurting me, because i think that i do not give enough of myself to them.

who thinks that sex can still be substituted with self-service act of decency.

who thinks that long-distance relationship is scary, yet comforting.

because i believe on its longevity.

because i can see that the door is opening on the intended side.

now, who wants to be with me?