Can't believe myself today!

Because of recurring incidents of being lost in cyberspace.... and to prevent from going astray again, I keep a to-do list before jumping into the Internet these days... you know... similar to shopping-list to keep you from buying unnecessary things. But today... the first thing that I googled about was beyond the to-do list: “dimpled mobster”

Just couldn't help laughing when the Doc said, “Wang Yoon (of Three Kingdoms), eh? I am not sure... I hardly remember... I do know Hwang Bo Yoon though. Well, you know, the man from Chosun era... I believe he was some sort of a... police commander..., wasn't he?”

Hahahahahahaha! A nice contrast from “doryunim” to “doomoknim” ......... from “dimpled master" to “dimpled mobster (chief)” ........ hahahahaha!

[/ridiculousness]

background music: new radicals — you get what you give... heh! why is this song so... telling!

Hmm, the fourth month of the year already left the blog without a single post. Is keeping a resolution to blog at least once a month... too much, eh? Well, Mr. Cullum said resolution come and go...

I am at a point where I wonder what to write though I have much to tell. You know... when you become self-conscious about things you write. You wonder how people would percieve you through your words. Will they find you shallow when you write about those melodramas people look down upon? Will they find you lacking intelligent if you can't even understand the string-theory? Will they find you astronomically low if you won't admit the superiority of jazz? Hence, you think twice or thrice about things.

For sometime, I've been enjoying being anonymous in the net. Without restraint and worries, I could be as dumb, as shallow, and as low as I want to, get to know and share with people who appreaciate it. In other words, by being anonymous, I could be me and free. Yet, after moments of recharging, refreshening, and well-mannered frivolity in anonymity, I think it's time to step out of the shadow and put on my identity back (....that old what's in a name adage...). No matter how free being anonymous is, regardless the burden a name has given you, identity grants you the ground to stand and belong to.

Thinking back, I guess I'm lacking what had made mrb fun: spontaneity. At the spur of the moment, I could just babble out of nowhere. Why can I not now? And considering that this blog has nearly zero visitor, I shouldn't have thought too much as these thinking are eating me out... hahaha... However, I really am enjoying this quietude.

Right.... let's just throw caution to the wind and get down to what started all these babbles on dimples....

There's one junction that I sometimes go through. It is crowded with cars, of course, and beggars. Its distinctive "landmark", however, are the street-musicians dressing up in female attire... transvestites. They seem to have grown in numbers these couple of years and improved in manner as well. Some may look at them with cynicism, some with amusement. Well, I have mixed feelings about them, but most of the time, I fear them... for men dressing up and behaving like women give off creepiness... and envy them... for they possess elegance and grace that I could never have. Bah!

Anyway, change in routine stopped me from going through that junction. For a while, the junction and its colourful transvestites were forgotten. Until couple of days ago.... I went through it and saw a familiar face in one of them from that same junction years ago. And I remember him because of his dimples!

The first time I saw him, I thought it might have been his first time performing in woman's clothes and make-up for he didn't give me the creeps. Instead, I saw and sensed that he was suffering. He was stiff. He looked anxious and embarrassed. While going from one car to another, he bent his head down. As he reached the next car, he pulled an effort to sway in feminine manner with difficulty. It earned him mocking sneers from the crowd and some of his "professional colleagues". His amateurish make-up couldn't hide his face as it turned scarlet. He showed a mental struggle in putting on a smile, a bitter smile... And that bitter smile made his dimples memorable. I wondered that, perhaps, the whole thing had hurt his pride and dignity. Though, I didn't think I need to wonder what had made him do it. And each time I went through that junction I saw him, still trying... That was three or four years ago.

Now, look-wise... he was... hmm... so refined. He swayed smoothly and gracefully. He now shared the same eeriness as the others had! When he came near my car, he no longer bent his head down and looked straight at me. He put on a wide smile. His smile no longer looked bitter. Yet... for a split second or two, his eyes showed that old struggle though the fire had dwindled. And now... somehow... to me... his smile and dimples looked pitiful and sad, for he was slowly losing himself.... Or was he? Does he think this is the place where he really belongs to? That sad thought made this junction a sad spot.

Hmmm... after all these babbles on... ehm... dramatic dimples... I think I shall revisit the dimpled naeuri and his left police bureau squad ....hmmm.... it is going to be one sad viewing! So.... should I? Hehehe!

heh! even the background song is so fitting as well! .... Phill Collins' True Colours!