I don’t know about you.
But I lose myself often.
I usually lose myself to witty vivid writings, epic television series with obscure profound ideas, video games with high powered graphics and awesome plots, one of those Malay women whom reek of traditional sensuality & grace (case point – Sarimah Ahmad, not Ifa Raziah).
Give me a good book; I’d be on the monorail staring outside the window into nothing in particular, instead staring inside into the tumultuous spasms of my imagination. Having opened to the concept of modern gods by American Gods, I used to wonder how the God of Bollywood would turn out. Like other Hindu-esque Gods, I bet he would appear among mortals in different incarnations over the years as successful Bollywood playwrights and directors, giving blessings & guidance to aspiring young Bollywood starlets whom wish to make it in the land of the Colorful Choreographed Dance Scenes. Of course sacrifice by the young actresses are prerequisite in gaining the favor of BollyGod in the shell of burly, pounched producer with sensually piercing eyes. How bout the young actors? Hmmm… Karan Johar got that covered.
Don’t get me started on television series. When they crap, they’re shit (Case exmplae; Lost). But once in a while, a good title comes along and sucks you in. The obvious example; Mad Men. Jon Hamm was so convincing in playing the smooth advertising genius - Don Draper; which compelled me to do outrageous things. I started picking up only Scotch, I smoke right after waking up in the morning, I exploit easy women (no money was exchanged), I faked my identity during product interview group and website registrations, I lie to people about my age and the list goes on. Truth be told why he influenced me so much is because… He reminds me a lot about myself. The guy who’s always trying to escape his current reality. The guy who has skeletons in his closet. The guy who cheats & steals at things that matter, but a charming gentleman who lives next door on a daily basis.
When I’m enamored (note enamore, not love), I become… Different. Better? Maybe. Recently, I was enamored with somebody whom is not my girlfriend. It felt magical. I wake up early. I wrote poetries at a whim. I smiled for days thoughout. I was clean shaven most of the time, top & bottom. I felt like i wanted to break into songs at every text received and calls made. Quoting Frank Sinatra, it felt like “I’ve Got the World on a String”… and I’m sitting on a rainbow… got that string around my fingers… Anyway. I find it interesting that when your body is fueled with the right chemical combination of hormones and estrogens and testosterones and pheromones and viagra, you could become another self and strive at it. It felt amazing like as if I stole the Liquid Luck from Dumbledore’s office and drank it. Everything felt right, everything was possible, everything was beautiful. When I look back and ponder upon it, I realized with that state of mind everything WAS possible, then. In that state of mind. Like succeeding with a Fool’s Hope, unseen and unfathomable by the cynic.
Video Games. Let me say it simply. I got UNamored by committing 376 hours in the wondrous realm of Skyrim (it goes without saying that this is deliberate). During in which time I have jeopardized my relationships with family, friends, colleagues and my bourgeois sense of self. Relationship with my pets thrive however as the ant colony in my house prosper due to my consistent dependency on McDelivery services.
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