...I believe the title of the post is the name of a song in the Hellsing OST. Track 7.
Anyway, whenever funerals come rolling about, especially from my mother's side, expect much screaming, shouting, arguing, blaming, then perhaps some crying, but definitely more shouting. Ah, the joys of having my house phone tied up with hundreds of calls from either Johor or Singapore.
My uncle died. I was never close to him, and the most recent memory of him I have is me kicking him. . .what? Don't ask; it was him who started it anyway -.-"
So despite my not-so-fond experiences with him, I respected him as a crazy sonaofabitch with a strong soul, but maybe not a strong body. See, alcohol and smoking does kill. Anyways, I got dragged by my parents decided to go Johor yesterday to pay my last respects.
Now, the last time I checked, Singapore was efficient, fast, and a thousand times better than the snail-like Causeway toll-point over at Johor. Of course it has been a long, long time since I've been to "the other side", so imagine my self-stragulation when my father basically zoomed into the Checkpoint at 100km/h, only to be stopped by a literal mob of motorccyles blocking everything. They weaved in and out, cut in front of us, completely overtook the car lane like a swarm of fucking bees and even smashed the car's sidemirror. Hey, what an awesome job the police must be doing! After all, this is a great service! I mean, although there wasn't any sort of enforcement on the chaos on the roads or, you know, some sort of decent traffic control right outside their fucking headquarters, it's ok, we understand, the police are incompetent! We can't blame them.
Right. So, right after that horribly boring nightmare of a traffic, we got to Johor. Me, being the paranoid, pessimistic dolt that I am, declared that I rather die than face the chance of our car being stolen in the middle of night. I had a show to get back to by 11:00PM, damnit! In the end, we ended in some hotel. Ate spagetti. It was awesome, and strange, seeing how I'm in Johor eating spagetti in some hotel restaurant that had no other customer.
So, after dinner, we finally got to the, err, funeral place. Watching the rites was, again, bloody boring. I should have brought cards =|. Especially since the funeral hall beside us had a table with 3 strangers playing cards. Damnit, I wanted to join in T.T
Anyway, we only left at 11:00PM. Luckily my friend could record my shows for me, or I would have been crying like some deranged lunatic (that was a repetition, but I don't care). It was strangely satisfying tho', to see the paper house, and gold, and car, and servant go up in a big, beautiful fire. The intense heat was so soothingly calming; the way the orange light crackled and licked at the ashen paper embers; or how the support frames, left bare by the fire, collapsed into a mass of tangled lines that soon became a charred pile of grey dust. . .that was beautiful.
I know, I have problems.
Now listening to: "Blind" Lifehouse
