Monday, August 22, 2011

Megalomaniacal Malaysia

I sat down for the breaking of the fast earlier, becuse I'm such a fucking good Muslim and shit, when this guy walked to my table and asked to sit there. Since there were no other tables, I said yes, sure.

BIG. FUCKING. MISTAKE.

The guy started ranting about how he's doing an international deal concerning stealing Internet.

I was not interested, so he did what any insane person who are insecure about their egos did - he started making imaginary phone calls on his cell, talking to such people as the Mr Gordon who became a Mr Jonathan at the end of the conversation. He spoke loudly, glancing at me several times to ensure I was listening - I didn't want to, but he was practically yelling at my ear.

Then he started to get angry, and talked to some guy in Africa who did not want to do business with him. His English was okay, but he's not accustomed to using the language.

In a last ditch effort to impress me, he spoke, over the phone, to a Datuk who was in Low Yat Plaza. What the fuck was a 'Datuk' doing at LowYat Plaza? At 7pm, in Ramadan? Then he changed it. The Datuk was at Royale Bintang, doing whatever Datuks do at Royale Bintang.

It got so annoying, if I had a knife, I would have stabbed him. In the face. Seven times.

All the while yelling, "From hell's heart, I stab thee, motherfucker!" with every jab.

This man was clearly disturbed (and I am not) and has a need for people to think well of him. He might have been told that he had potential, but then realised in his later years that potential, unrealised, simply means bullshit.

Some people get comfortable with potential, until they begin making excuses for themselves.

"I could have done that, if this happened."

"I could have achieved this if that happened."

"I could have been this. I could have been that."

In essence, all pure bullshit.

This guy, I believe, realised that, so went even deeper into his rabbit hole.

As I was eating, I did not feel angry at the man, but I just felt really bad. It's like seeing someone with an incurable disease buying Panadol cause he thinks Panadol will cure any disease.

I don't feel sorry for him, I just felt bad. It was like watching Saw. I judged him, yeah, and here's my final judgment - this is a man who had the opportunity to face himself and reality, but decided at the last moment, to bury himself even deeper into delusion.

If you are too scared to face reality, you will be drowning in your own fantasy. You'll buy your own hype. You'll fall victim to your ego, and you will finally believe that the person, the image that the ego has constructed to be the real you.

Newsflash: it's not.

Most of you are not one deal away from being a billionaire. Everybody does not love you. You are not a descendant of lost kings. You do not have a mandate from heaven to rule over all. You do not have superpowers.

You are a man. Or a woman. A person. No more, no less. That's it. That's what you have to work with.

Take it from me. My own delusion was that I was sent here to save people. The truth is, I could barely save myself. Made peace with that. If you die and burn and decay in front of me, all I could really do is shrug. And call an ambulance. I'm not a fucking hero.

All our obsession with positive reinforcement, building up self-esteem, the supernatural, all this are bullshit. If you don't have the balls to face what you are, instead of the bullshit 'who', you might as well go and kill yourself.

Or.

You could discard all pretenses and live like a man. Or a woman. Have some balls.

The crazy man said goodbye to me, and explained that he has these deals he's working on.

I did what I could do. I smiled. Nodded. And then I finished my plate of beriyani, farting slowly and quietly so as not to disturb the other crazy people behind me.