Nipping it in the bud

Unlike many who revel in their memories of the past, I like to live in the present and in so doing, feel shitty about it. But that's alright. 'Cos at least I have a better idea of how to get things moving forward, you know, instead of staying in one place and let everyone else take over while I grow fungus.

Taking the occasional tumble in a small puddle of the past tense is perfectly fine. When the puddle is deep however, you may find yourself sinking, plop, rather quickly, more like, unintentional diving, kind of like how Criss Angel does it in mind freak, disappearing into oblivion to the horror of the flabbergasted audience that drown out their surprised gasps with loud speculation of how indeed was that trick done?

But unlike Criss Angel (who is frighteningly, mind-blowingly hot, if I may say so) who appears by some freak of really cool lighting effects or psychological meltdown, resurfaces from some other puddle say 10 feet away, most people who take the occasional tumble down memory puddle so to speak, and sink quickly, they rarely if ever, come out of it do they?

It sure sucks spiky balls to be surrounded by people who have brains like fucking dalmations, or like that elephant in India that never forgets people and their misdoings in the past and learnt to express his emotions or implicate a wrong-doer with accusations emblazoned across a canvas, delicately so, with a slight flick of his trunk, sniffles, and drops the paintbrush in a heave of emotional exasperation.

Many times, you'd want to throttle these people, take them by the collar and shake some choice words into their thick skulls; say chum, how many times are you going to tell me about your fucking childhood, your tedious experiences in high school when you were at that awkward stage and your folks just never understood, or that unfortunate time you stepped on a toothpick at home, rightly stabbed it into your sole by virtue of body weight, and you were all alone, scared to death about contracting the flesh-eating bacteria that would slowly consume your internal organs?

Sometimes, it might be interesting to bring up your trists with the Staphylococcus but most times, people don't really care.

Or, perhaps it's just less tiring to always have a conversation that centers on how maligned you were at the college dinner and dance when everyone thought you were the arse who spiked Betty's drink, because sometimes, people just need a good, earnest, non-imposing conversation, without being given the holier-than-thou treatment.

If there's anything I've learnt from things that can't talk, say, animals and inanimate objects, is that if there is one way to tackle people like that, its simply, really, just nipping it in the bud.

Bite his bits off (ask questions later).