"Mmm... yuuh. Thish ish shooo goog..." I say through a mouthful of medium-rare steak. "I havan hag shteak fo sho long!"
"You haven't had anything in so long," Ling says.
It's cheat day. A mixture of blood and oil coats my tongue as the meat melts in my mouth. "Yeah, it's good to have some sin once in a while."
"You're so boring!"
"Wha—"
"Dude all you eat are vegetables and
fruits, and steamed chicken breast, and your eggs, and your oats. I can't
imagine life like that!"
Yup, count on close friends to be blunt
with you. I like it. It keeps me honest.
"But what's wrong with that?"
"You eat tasteless food! And...
and... it’s so boring!"
"What. Have you even eaten an apple
before? They're delicious!"
"Boring!"
"Okay you need to stop saying boring."
"Life is short. You should enjoy
it," Ling says, eyeing the next table of smokers.
"But... I am enjoying life!"
"Why deprive yourself of happiness
like the steak you're eating right now?"
"So you're saying that to be happy, I
should cram myself with junk. You do know that I have cancer and a heart attack just waiting to happen, right? Genes and all that jazz."
"You're still young. You don't need
to take care of your diet yet!"
Now I'm no nutrition saint. I don't try fad diets, I don't stare at other people and tut at their choice of cholesterol, I don't try to impose lifestyle tips upon anyone, and I'm definitely lax on the amount of cheat days I allow myself per week (3 most weeks, 5 when I get cravings like a pregnant woman). All I do is eat clean as often as I can, so pardon me if I get weirded out when someone says I'm wasting my life away by being healthy.
Now I'm no nutrition saint. I don't try fad diets, I don't stare at other people and tut at their choice of cholesterol, I don't try to impose lifestyle tips upon anyone, and I'm definitely lax on the amount of cheat days I allow myself per week (3 most weeks, 5 when I get cravings like a pregnant woman). All I do is eat clean as often as I can, so pardon me if I get weirded out when someone says I'm wasting my life away by being healthy.
"And exercising five days a week? So
lifeless," Ling says in a hush as a waiter tops off her
bottomless lemon tea.
"What. I don't even—"
"Excuse me, can I have an ashtray
please?"
The waiter nods and leaves.
"Okay fine. I'm too healthy. I'll
start eating more junk from now on," I lie. The hell I would. Mixed fruits and oats taste beyond awesome.
The waiter returns with an ashtray. Ling rummages through her handbag and produces a new pack of cigarettes. She gives it a couple of thwacks then sticks one of the cancer sticks into her mouth. She bends over to the next table and gestures for a lighter. There's this amazing camaraderie among smokers. Never will a smoker be deprived of a lighter anywhere in the world with the international sign-language of thumb wiggling.
She lights up, inhales, looks upwards, exhales. Her free hand swats away stray wisps of smoke from my face. At least she's a 'considerate' smoker. I watch her do the smoker's equivalent of rinse and repeat. Inhale cancer cocktail, look up, exhale life away, swat remaining smoke. I recall a story at the back of my mind.
There was this dad who fathered two sons. He never got a job, beat his wife and kids regularly, and finally got sentenced to jail for murder. Later on in life, one son grew up to be a loving father and a very successful entrepreneur, while the other lived a life of crime and spent most of his life incarcerated. When asked how they came to that point in life, both said the exact same thing: "What else was I supposed to do, growing up with such a father?"
That's how I feel right now. One group of people would bring up their indulgence with pride, and another group would advocate healthy living, and both sides will come to the same conclusion when asked why they're taking such a stance: "What else is there to do when life is so short?"
I believe in neither school of thought. There's no black and white in life, no fixed way to go about it. With life being as transient as it is, it's silly to impose rules and instructions for it. People seem to think there's a one-size-fits-all manual for life in the form of philosophy, religion or self-help books. I just believe that you should go for whatever makes you tick in life, as long as you don't hurt anyone or yourself. Also, I believe that a healthy body is able to enjoy life much better than a sick one.
Ling finishes her first cigarette and chain-lights her second stick with the former.
She lights up, inhales, looks upwards, exhales. Her free hand swats away stray wisps of smoke from my face. At least she's a 'considerate' smoker. I watch her do the smoker's equivalent of rinse and repeat. Inhale cancer cocktail, look up, exhale life away, swat remaining smoke. I recall a story at the back of my mind.
There was this dad who fathered two sons. He never got a job, beat his wife and kids regularly, and finally got sentenced to jail for murder. Later on in life, one son grew up to be a loving father and a very successful entrepreneur, while the other lived a life of crime and spent most of his life incarcerated. When asked how they came to that point in life, both said the exact same thing: "What else was I supposed to do, growing up with such a father?"
That's how I feel right now. One group of people would bring up their indulgence with pride, and another group would advocate healthy living, and both sides will come to the same conclusion when asked why they're taking such a stance: "What else is there to do when life is so short?"
I believe in neither school of thought. There's no black and white in life, no fixed way to go about it. With life being as transient as it is, it's silly to impose rules and instructions for it. People seem to think there's a one-size-fits-all manual for life in the form of philosophy, religion or self-help books. I just believe that you should go for whatever makes you tick in life, as long as you don't hurt anyone or yourself. Also, I believe that a healthy body is able to enjoy life much better than a sick one.
Ling finishes her first cigarette and chain-lights her second stick with the former.
"You really live life, don't you?" I raise my hands and bend my index and middle fingers at the words 'live life' while looking at her cigarette. A smirk butters across my face as I know exactly what
she's about to say.
"Yeah. Life is short."
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