I'm eloquent

Lone and throned by 

None other than myself

♪ Alpine - Multiplication

My love life is exclusively hush. I'd rather it not be incorrectly circulated like a messy game of Chinese Whispers. However, I recently held a general meeting (though) in my mind and made a moving one-liner soliloquy: There's no inherent freedom and/or privacy in fancying someone. So befitting of post-Valentines' Day week, I'll share the story of a first crush seeing as 'nostalgia' is my middle name. It's a pretty safe territory to cross. Prepubescent crushes are so charmingly virtuous that said feels weren't consciously approved till later in life. The contagion of boy/girl germs fuelled immunity with the division of single-sex tag teams and book barriers formed on every desk. J was exempt from this social virus. He fashioned his orange duffle backpack on both shoulders. Hair coated in gel. And every so often revolted against the uniform dress code with a printed grandfather sweater, knitted with the colour trifecta of a West-European flag. And maybe I was inebriated on cocktails of Ovalteenies and strawberry-flavoured milk. Or eternally flattered that he took it out of his way to save me the fastest functioning computer in IT class. But secretly, I enjoyed the attention. Subtlety is a much swifter affair.

I love Adidas but Nike was having a sale; none in my size unfortunately. Early work shifts for an insomniac. Prosperous Asian sausage.

Building the snake float for Sydney's CNY Festival with D. The amount of work resulted in sanding off fingers + aching tendons.

He had a natural stutter, each syllable was repeated on occasion. A keen basketball player. And I remember the mutual spite we shared for school photos. We walked home via the same route. My mother was a chaperone; one whom briskly paced herself aside us and interjected doses of small talk. Did you eat all your lunch today? Wear your hat when outside? Any kids call you names? Sometimes he'd treated me to an iceblock. Dentists everywhere praised him. Parents debilitated by the threat of cavities and his infant Disney Prince charm. As a clumsy child, these frozen treats often landed into a splendor of tropical gems, quickly sizzling onto Summer concrete. I find strange delight in drawing to the conclusion that he negotiated with the luncheon lady for icecreamed compensation. Fleeting out of the milk bar with a second cone of vanilla, this weekly episode was a definitely a high point of my primary career.
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Mini-movie marathon with J & L, hence 24 mini pizzas. Pumpkin deserves to be shown off, it makes pizza a religious experience. Uneven edges? Psh. What's 'finesse' if it tastes so freaking godly? Used the remaining vegeterian toppings in a tuna penne dish for dinner.

He was ideologically a pacifist, opposed to formidable wrestling and sunk his nose favourably into Ronald Dahl & Paul Jennings. His confidence in mathematics made him arrogant. And wore a watch that weighed his wrist down like an anvil. It was like superimposing a kid with adult qualities. J taught me long division. Expressionless, I hid my need for clarity although with his persistence, made the exercises appear less like a dyslexic puzzle. Many lunchtimes were dedicated to revising fractions. Over time though, my feelings naturally subsided. As did the fix for icecream. To begin with, I didn't know what these feelings were. Just an abstract game of favouritism perhaps. It's difficult to affectionately recall him. Like volunteering to write a wedding speech for a long-lost cousin: foreign but respectful, warm-hearted with the added independency to invite colour and universal adeges. A pioneering stint into a world that gives me butterflies and hives began with a boy who happened to vest a hipster jumper. Now feeling completely vunerable from storytelling, I will submit myself in the dark corner and rock back-and-forth to the flicking wick of several candles.