Flood and Draught

This country only has two seasons that share equal parts in the time scheme we all live in. Most of the time, the weather doesn’t agree with anybody. Actually, it rarely agrees with anything, including the fishes (but we never had dead birds suddenly dropping out of the sky). But as much as I would like to point out the many things that won’t agree with anything, let me just introduce the two things I’m most accustomed with: flood and draught.

In case anyone’s wondering what country I’m referring to, it’s an Asian country. It’s close to Japan (but not financially), closer to Taiwan (but not in looks) and I think it’s closest to Malaysia (people here can catch boat rides and be illegal immigrants there). If you’re still not getting it, here’s another clue: it’s not Italy. It’s far from anything note-worthy even though people try so hard at it. Don’t get me wrong, I like it here. I just detest some people who claim to be part of it.

The weather here is weird. It’s either you drown or you die from dehydration. And I wonder why I’m talking about this. I wonder why, out of all the things to be discussed, I picked to discuss…weather.

“How’s the weather?”

It’s actually the casual talk which no one bothers with. It’s that one sentence that could spark a dozen others and consequently branch out to something awesome or something awkward. This path of communication doesn’t stop. Hollywood has shown us that he dead can communicate by being zombies or really really violent Asian ghosts. Even a rock can communicate (verbally or otherwise). But even so, the touch of a voice, a real voice, can do wonders.

We communicate through things like this. Through this post, you can see me (though I really hope not). We have instant messengers now. The only thing missing is actually smelling the person on the other end of the modem and maybe space isn’t really much of a bother. These things make distance less problematic and even less scary. Technology (tricknology) is something like a placebo pill, blanketing us in a very welcome yet undoubtedly defective sense of security.

I miss the things that used to mean something. The old things that meant you cared enough to send a card (I forgot how to snail mail). Talking to someone and hearing them without the garble of cybernetics. Touching someone, feeling them as not only static but real flesh, warm against the palm of your hand. I miss these things. I miss people who talk to you and not IM you in the middle of the night about something as trivial as yarn.

I guess it’s weird. I wouldn’t even know how to immediately deal with the loss of the instant things. But I want to see my life flash by in real time and not in a fast-paced way. I don’t wanna look at my life like I’m someone from the outside looking in. It’s kinda weird that I only thought about this now (years after watching Click). It’s kinda funny, too. Who could’ve thought that all this would come from thinking about the weather?

I guess my flooded shoes got me thoughtful.


About kyogakura
Bored 95% of the time.

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