I stare out of the window at the Stuttgart traffic. I hate tennis more than ever - but I hate myself more. I tell myself, So what if you hate tennis? Who cares? All those people out there, all those millions who hate what they do for a living, they do it anyway. Maybe doing what you hate, doing it well and cheerfully, is the point. So you hate tennis. Hate it all you want. You still need to respect it - and yourself.
I gotta say though - if I had to play tennis for a living, no way in hell I'm gonna waste it hating it.
That said, someone else might say the same, except instead of tennis they might say law, legal profession, lawyer. It's all relative. While I can't fathom how anyone can complain about playing tennis professionally, in the context of Andre's life - his non-existent childhood, overbearing father, trading his life for tennis, forced to pick a path he didn't want - it makes perfect sense. According to the book, right before he turned pro he wondered if it was the path he wanted; but he also realised there was nothing else he could do as he was 16-year-old tennis player who didn't finish high school, who had no education, who only knew how to play tennis. Therefore, he was trapped, and I understand all too well the inevitable resentment that comes along with feeling - justly or not - like you're stuck in a life you didn't ask for, trapped in a choice that was essentially a non-choice.
I wasn't interested in this book because of the crystal meth controversy, him lying to the ATP, and whatever else that was leaked prior to the book's release. I didn't even give a shit about the book when I read the news about him taking crystal meth. It was the fact that he hated tennis that intrigued me, and I've found what I was looking for in the book. I still have a quarter left, but I know how the story ends (even if I don't know the beginning and the middle - another reason the book is a great read).
I think Open is the first and only autobiography I've ever read. As a general rule I read only fiction, but this one reads like a novel. It's really well-written, though not as well-narrated but it keeps me interested. When I'm bored at work all I can think about is coming home to read the book, to find out what happened next, to find out when he talks about Roger, if he does talk about Roger. I just read about his meeting with Nelson Mandela which has inspired me to pick up Mandela's memoir. That should be even better (which, yeah, goes without saying).
I wanted to blog about something funny Ruishan said over the internal instant messenger but I didn't email myself the transcript. So sad.
Here's something funny my boyfriend said though. I messaged him a few times throughout the day and received no answer, which was unusual of him, so I messaged him once more, "You forgot about me. =("
Hours later he replied, "Never. I was looking for my phone the whole day. I found it in the fridge. :("
HAHAHAHAHAHAHA. The something funny Rui said pertained to this. It made me laugh out loud, to myself. Totally not glam.
Totally knackered. I'm pleased to say, though, that I totally outdid myself today. Previously my personal best in terms of "latest time I left the office" (seems like a competition of sorts) was 7.10 p.m.
The new record? 7.30 p.m. Or was it 7.25?
Came across this, and this comment really pissed me off:
OK, by rights, I hope he don't mean "right to more tax payer money."
There's no such right. That's charity, and it should come willingly from the people, not imposed upon them.
First, it's he DOESN'T. I can't take seriously the opinion of a person who doesn't know basic grammar.
In any event, what a typical Singaporean response. It's always about me, what's convenient to me, what wouldn't compromise my selfish interest. What the bloody hell is wrong with this stupid country? There is no human right to charity, but if a person's rights aren't realised, whatever financial assistance required to enable him to fulfill his rights isn't charity; it's an obligation, it's a responsibility, and it is not voluntary; it is mandatory. How would he like to be one of the less privileged? Seriously, if the lower echleons of society waited for the charity of the rest of us to help them out, they'd all die before any help is rendered.
Fucking selfish society. It's obvious every day on the damn MRT. At times like these, I don't give a shit about the lack of a citizenship test; at times like these, I'm ashamed to call myself Singaporean.
I mean, really. As if I like to pay $1 for a pack of tissue paper, right? But that's not the point. The point is the person selling it. The point is that $1 means nothing to me, but it could mean half the price of a meal to the person selling it.
I just don't fucking understand the selfish mindset that seems to pervade so many people. I really cannot understand it on the most fundamental level - and I'm an exceptionally selfish person. How can anyone be worse than me?
But there are. There are. Bloody Singaporeans that shun old men and old women who really should be at home putting their feet up on their coffee table and relaxing on a cushy sofa, watching TV, imploring them with their weathered, desperate eyes to spare one dollar to buy a few packets of tissue paper. IS IT SO HARD TO PART WITH ONE FUCKING DOLLAR? The only people that I see buying the tissue packs are ang mohs.
And don't get me started again on the fucking assholes who take up the damn reserved seats, DURING RUSH HOUR, and continue plonking their fat asses on the seats even when there are old people around them, STANDING. How would they like for their own grandparents to be treated like that? For fuck's sake, fatness is not a fucking disability. Maybe I should start treating it as one, you think?
And now you have morons like "Philip" whining about what a burden it is to taxpayers that people with disabilities exist, and they are actually, you know, human. How would he like to be confined to a wheelchair and being severely inconvenienced because many buildings and places in Singapore aren't wheelchair friendly? If I knew more about this I could bitch more; sadly I don't. But that's something, right?
I just want to slap the shit out of these people. At the rate this society's going, soon I'd lose the right to call myself selfish.
(Hmm, maybe I'm more self-centred than selfish. Ask my boyfriend. He knows this part of me inside out, unfortunately.)