Young hearts, wild lives, preceding notoriety
SMOKING:
After my usual bout of sneezes, I deduced that it was probably due to my lack of some smokes, recalling my earlier diminished pack of Next Chill and so decided to head out to grab a fresh pack together with some alone time. As I was sitting on my favourite bench near the supermarket dragging from my cigarette, I started thinking "How did this even start in the first place?" And then realised "Wow, it's actually been a good (can't say the same for my lungs) 2 years since I first started smoking."
Can I blame it on the post title? My being young and wild? Haha I really don't think so. It started from genuine curiosity really, 1 week into my first year in Rp. I remember it being an after-school class bowling session and my clique of guys and I afterwhich crossing over to a void deck right opposite to accompany Dom for his smoke. And then somehow as we were sitting in a nice circle around the blue and white tiled marble table, which was totally convenient really, Dom asked us if we wanted some too, which we all took to glancing around nervously at one another, us all being underage at that time, then all seemingly concluded in unison with shrugs of our shoulders: "Why not?"
We then started passing his stick around in an anti-clockwise motion, me surprisingly not choking and coughing on my first drag, which was what they always portrayed in dramas and documentaries of rebellious teens. Afterwhich, this act then became my channel to destress, my belief and feeling that while I inhale the poison, I then exhale all the negativity in me. Ironic really, but surprisingly hypnotic and relaxing.
CLUBBING:
The next wildest thing I did after I decided to start smoking was probably my clubbing rendezvous starting right after I turned legal, 29 February I recall. It was childish, sick and totally cheap really thinking back now, how we took to counting the number of guys who danced (and mostly ending up with kisses and french) with us, referring to it as "fishing" at that time, feeling proud of the numbers and preceding the notoriety from it.
Though thinking back (which I really hate and feel utterly embarrassed about) I really can't comprehend my then self, I with all my heart enjoying those nights of leaving house at 10PM and heading home at 4.30AM, which I might even add on, was a 3x a week thing on every Wed, Fri and Sat. Like that wasn't bad enough, I then wake up the next day close to dinner time, sometimes filling the house with noises and effects of the aftermath: Lots of pained groaning and some pungent vomit.
Thinking of this as just 1 day on its own may not seem like much but remember my 3x a week routine? Yes, now imagine going on a Friday night, waking up at 5PM on Saturday, first thing checking my phone only to see Whatsapp invites for Saturday night itself. Any normal person would've dreaded such invites, even more so when nursing a hangover from less than 24h ago, but not me. At least not my then self.
After lazing in bed for about 1h, I would then get up with enthusiasm (god knows how and from where) to fill my stomach with food and renewed confidence to not get drunk easy. By 8PM, I'd then start picking out my outfit for the night, then showering and dolling up before again, leaving house at 10PM to head to Clarke Quay.
---------------------
These, were what was going through my mind as I was dragging from my cigarette, seated on my favourite bench near the supermarket. As much as I couldn't and still can't understand these acts of... I don't know what but I'd now call it "twisted mess of young and wild", I thought of my parents and how they even took to putting up with my behavior.
My dad, the less opened between the two but more opened compared to modern day Malay parents, the kind of Malay parent to condone my non-Halal dietry but still not being able to see pass alcohol consumption and the wild mess of dancing and grinding teens under deafening music and blinding neon lights, putting up with my waking up late wasting 3/4 of my day, filling the house with sickening noises and smell of alcohol and its aftermath of overdose: Vomit.
My mum, the more opened between the two but just as conservative except the non-Halal dietry part (because really, find me a Chinese who'd totally convert to only consuming Halal food). In addition while my dad only knew about the second point of this post, my mum knew about the first as well.
How they took to still accepting me from the way I behaved during those days of continuous disappointment, I don't think I can ever come around to comprehend. But amidst this confusion, I only have utmost admiration and gratitude towards them, for accepting me as the daughter that I am and finally, growing up to mature and see through the wasting of myself, physically and financially.
Though the first point is still ongoing, I really hope to at some point in my life be able to cut down on it and eventually completely quitting. Easier said than done the longer I prolong it but hopefully for the sake of my future family, a possible end. ☺
