Sunday, December 23, 2012

Bad Wives Good Vibes

There are few types of bad wives: the trophy wife - who does nothing but spend your money and acts like a dead fish every night; the on-paper wife - who does nothing at all and acts like she is your wife, and the slutty wife who gives you nothing but gives others everything and acts like you're not there.

Then there's the good wives of course. Those that stand beside you (not behind or in front of you) in a moment of distraught, those that you could count on, and those that knows what your secret smile means. Those that can drive you to be a better man. And they are non-existent, aren't they?

Living with bad wives is a bad torment. It's like a prison, with a severe punishment dealt upon you on a daily basis. Or hourly basis for some. And like a prison, there's no easy way out. Then there are the kids to think about. If you managed to escape, it wouldn't be an overnight effort. It takes time, almost like the Shawsank Redemption. And when you did escape, you'll be too old to start all over.

A married life is a marred life, scarred by the betrayal of the woman you so foolishly put your trust on. You may never be able to feel joy again in this life, and might need to wait for your next reincarnation to find the love of your life. To rub salt to your injury, the flawed system demands that you give up half your hard earned property to the woman if you decide to split. By that time, you're old, you're broke and you wish you were never born at all.

So knowing all this, do guys still go and marry those bad wives? Amazingly they still do. Either they are forced to by a power far greater than their conscience, or they are just plain foolish. The power could be a suicide threat (which is predominant in developing countries where you have a lot of meaningless on-paper marriage) or it could be the power of the loins in the case of trophy wives.

With all these bad marriages around, perhaps that's the reason people believe in the end of the world. The younger generation more than any. A generation that comes from dysfunctional marriage and on-paper marriage. A generation that don't give a damn, and couldn't care less if a meteor comes and wipe us all out. Some would even exploit it to get laid - the end is coming, why don't we just do what we want?

Maybe this is the generation that is gonna wipe out the so called bad wives. Men have come to realization that bad wives come from their peer generation, and they are seeking partner from the next generation. That means it makes sense for a guy marry someone much younger than him - preferably from one generation after his. I have seen guys from Gen X happily married to women from Gen Y. It may not be the first marriage for the Gen-Xers, but Gen Y women don't care.

The invention of Viagra has brought on the new era of hope and more and more younger women are attracted to older guys. These younger women may not be the good wives we were once seeking for, but at least they are not the bad wives we are trying to avoid but couldn't. Finally there are good vibes in the air, as though hope is available once again.

Friday, December 14, 2012

The Rainy Season

In the rainy season
The water came gushing furiously
Thunder and lightning jesting each other
The young ones screamed
The unmanly ones squirmed

Those that live with guilt
Fear is like the raindrop beating on the roof
Unapologetically, with no respite
Nor respect
Lock all your doors
Check all your windows
Still the paranoia
Like an invisible hand on your shoulder
the touch piercing through the soul

Remember all the promises you break?
People you have betrayed?
The sleep that wouldn't come?
Despite your lavish condo and your chiropractic mattress

Deep inside you know
Tho' you wouldn't admit
Karma will catch up on you
And serve you a cold cold dish of penance

At your posh farewell banquet
Where rain just won't let go
But people still come
And you would boast of the numbers
But they come just to eat
Just for the food
Not to wish you well
Good words were spoken
Malice thought cursing you mutedly

You smile and you laughed
Your trophy wife asking smittenly are we really going back?
Yes, you are - you mongrel
The rain is singing your farewell song
Can't you hear?

We wish you all the less
As you are but a speck of dirt
That the rainy season
So vehemently came to wash away