Central Library: NUS Odditorium

One place you seek refuge in during reading week, the popular Central library.

Yes. Freezing, over-exploited air-conditioning, creaking noises from extravagant PVC seats that even provide neck support for short naps, gentle (but annoying) tapping from slippers of the engin ah beng behind, the occasional rustle of plastic candy wrappers from sugar-starved arts girls. Aah. 'Tis life.

Staying past normal hours (ca. ~7pm) requires one to have much mental fortitude.

Not only because one's head is probably saturated by then, but also to cope with avoiding the oddities that abound. It may be your new seat neighbour, now that your study friend has left for home. It could be your new photocopy nerd, occupying the machine for more than the copyrights act allows. It could be the giggly stranger at the next computer terminal at the 4th floor. It could even be the strange girl who talks to herself in the toilet cubicle next to yours.

Perhaps the following testimonials could illustrate my point, and also discourage you, dear reader, from frolicking near such places in the library again.

[*Edit: The following accounts are based on true occurences that can be verified by the author of this site herself. Only so by means that were very unfortunate indeed, and she will not further comment on these stories due to psychological trauma that will inevitably be revisited.]

Dear kungfubunny,

I am an avid reader of your site. As a fellow bunny myself, I fully empathise with your plight. In a morbidly restrictive society you live in, fitting in must really be a bitch.

I want to share with you a frightening true account that I myself has beheld in my short hopping life.

As you know, I study in an esteemed institution of higher education, held in high regard in this country. Today, as with all preceding days since about a week ago, I have been hiding in the Central Library of the institution studying my furry head to death. This evening, I was using the computer terminals on the 4th floor and had trouble concentrating on my research. As I was figuring out a particularly difficult bunnylogic regression curve paper from a university website, a young human girl ploppedd into the chair next to me to use the computer. She looked at me and smiled in a frighteningly strange manner, that nearly made my heart give way (you know, we lop-ear rabbits have weak hearts. Oh, it was a close one.)

But what was most unnerving was that she had many visible traits of a Down's Syndrome kid. Not that I want to be mean, but she had a thick neck and tubby arms, like most of those kids I've seen. But anyway, she kept giggling to herself, and saying "hur.. no no no... hehehehe" and I don't know, perhaps it's a human language we bunnies must try to be proficient in if we want to be accepted in society in the long run.

But anyway, she typed with 2 fingers. One from each hand. And she typed disturbingly fast and LOUDLY! I mean, even us bunnies with only 4 fingers type so much more daintily and slowly. She kept typing loudly with her 2 fingers and giggled nonstop.

As an assimilated bunny yourself, I was hoping you could shed light on what I had observed today. Was that normal human behavior? For I have not yet encountered many similar situations. I hope you will advise wisely, as you always have.

Sincerely disturbed,

I. M. Porcubunny

***

Dear kungfubunny,

I'm a big fan of your writing and over the months that you have been nursing this wondrously blue site of yours, I've been a faithful follower.

I'm from a single parent family. I never knew my father, only from my mother and she says he left her for another. So you can imagine the horror I had to grow up with, what with having to fight with 7 siblings to suckle. I've been in frightening situations all my life. But this one really takes the carrot!

Today, I was studying in my school's library (as you may know from my previous letters, I study at a highly respectable school where I have pursued my tertiary education for almost 3 years now. It's the exam period and I've been very much involved with my books.) rather late into the evening and took a toilet break.

As I was finishing up a good pee, a human juvenile girl stepped into the stall next to me and I heard her chant something really really really frightening. I wasn't sure if what she was saying was indeed what she was saying so as I finished up and flushed the WC, I hesitated before leaving and stood there to hear what she was saying to verify (or NOT) that what I heard was indeed, well, what I heard. And I was right! At a level audible to the adjacent stall and perhaps about 3 feet away from her, it was clear what she was chanting was, "I command you! I command you! I command you to touch your vagina! I command you to touch your vagina! I command you!"

I don't know if this is human societal norm but in my home country (Carotia), even speaking to yourself is considered frowned upon. I don't suppose she was speaking into one of those mobile phones, but it scared me nonetheless. Perhaps she has a mental condition, I don't know. I'd never been this disturbed all my wee life. My fur stood on end as I left the toilet to squeal in one corner.

I don't know what to make of this incident, and I daren't write to anyone else. I trust you wholly, kungfubunny. Please explain things to me.

Yours disturbed,

I. Rabitt

As you can tell, the above two very moving accounts of frightened rabbits in libraries after hours are deterrents enough for me! This bunny is not going to be caught in such compromising situations. And I don't know how else to reply to these two bunnies without making them lose faith in humankind.