Impulses

Impulses

After a while of mulling it over I think I won’t proceed with buying that Nokia 5300. Cellphones just don’t hold much currency with me. Most likely I’ll just spring for the DVD player and a set of really nice speakers for my computer as my birthday indulgence; at least it’ll cost me half as much.

I still want a personal music player though. And no, no Ipods please.

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Oddly enough, despite my decision to give up mecha models, there’s one new kit that’s getting my attention—the 1/144 HGUC Gaplant TR-5 ‘Hrairoo’ from the Gundam side-story “Advance of Zeta.” Yes, I know ‘Hrairoo’ is a dodgy kind of name, but the black-and-white kit itself is a very nice improvement over the original green HGUC Gaplant. And it's easily the best MS to come out of the mechanical weirdness that is "AoZ."

The only catch is it’s rather pricey for its size and scale: the Gaplant retails for PhP1600 in malls, and the ‘Hrairoo’ is reportedly JPY200 dearer. If I wanted it that bad, there are other channels, I guess.

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Lately I’ve been learning that I haven’t exactly lived up to the promises I set for myself. I fancied thinking of myself as friendly and approachable; in reality people are scared of my cranky disposition and probably think I’m lousy company.

What got me wondering was the revelation that at least people think I’ve changed somewhat. Gracey told me when the new year had arrived they wondered why I wasn’t as confrontational as before, why I was participating in lunch more often, why I was generally mellower and nicer all of a sudden. To be honest I don’t think it was as sudden as they claim.

The same thing’s happened with my driving. There is an increasing number of nights when I couldn’t care less about delinquent drivers looking for early deaths…just as long as I’m not involved as I’m going my merry way along C5. On the times that I stretch my engine’s legs, I tend to leave more clean air between me and others than before.

So what are the factors that supposedly “changed” me? Maybe I just got tired of making things go my way all the time. I can’t call it a simple waste of effort, as effort should have a direct effect. No, perhaps all of this “my way or the highway” stuff is a waste of giving a damn, of uselessly harping about things I should have ignored in the first place. Perhaps the fact that two of my friends died in 2006 contributed something to the “change,” too.

It’s strange. I don’t feel very different, but people insist something good happened. From past experience I know I would never have had this feedback if I consciously tried.

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At least now I can say I know a little more about you.

You say you’re afraid of me becoming cranky and having the brunt of it directed your way. You probably don’t know that the same is true of me. I am afraid of the power you now have over me.

With you I am faced with a difficult choice, like hanging off a slope while driving a car with a manual gearbox. (Of course I just had to use a car metaphor.) Times like these, it’s the clutch that does the driving. Too much clutch and I will slip backwards; too little clutch and I might smash into whatever is in front of me; and all the while I know I can’t keep hanging off the clutch forever because soon it’ll burn and leave a noxious stink. Either that or I run out of gas.

I am patently scared of falling in love, because I want to avoid making more of the mistakes I made in the past—ones that haunt me to this day. You are, as I said, the antithesis of what I find attractive in most of the women I’ve met: you’re just too quiet. I believe looks will go away, so I put great faith in good conversation.

But I don’t want to leave any regrets either. I want to let you know that yes I do like you very much and I want to learn what I can about you. I want to know why you keep playing the part of the soft-spoken smiling girl all the time when you’re obviously articulate and smart. Is it because you’re afraid I might reject you when you do speak your mind? (Let me assure you that you have yet to disappoint us, let alone me.) Is it because you’re afraid your interests might be too left-field for, ahem, “general consumption?” (I already play the role of resident weirdo, so no problem there.) Let’s just find out along the way shall we?

Do you know what I really want to do?

I want to set aside some time for me to stop being so outspoken and stop laughing like a loon the way I do day in and day out. My monologue can only run for so long before even its sole performer gets sick of the role. Instead, I’d like you to come to the stage and own it. Be yourself. Indoctrinate your audience with what you are and let them acclimatize themselves to your quirks. Make them love you.

I assure you, I will listen, even as an audience of one.