Spite
There is that little squirmy side inside everyone (I'm sure it was there even in Gandhi), whether it's repressed very successfully, whether it is worn as a badge of honour or whether it's just extremely dormant. That side pokes its head out every now and then and says, "HAH! Take THAT, FUCKFACE!", whenever someone we don't like trips, or gets passed over for that promotion, gets told that the last serving of her favourite dish that she was fantasising about all day long while doing mind-numbing document review just got served to that bloke who happens to be her ex who broke her heart ... or gets decapitated by an angry Al-Qaeda nutso mumbling something supposedly Islamic. (Was that a long sentence?)
So anyway. I usually am quite lackadaisical and don't bother holding grudges. It takes too much work and saps too much energy, and those people ain't worth all that. But there are the exceptions. The ones who stick in your mind (and your craw) and anytime you get a flash of remembrance, that flash includes them. My flash would include a couple of my JC (last 2 years of high school) classmates.
I wasn't popular, I wasn't very attractive, and I wasn't too fond of my classmates. For the most part, I had my friends in class and kept to myself and they kept to themselves. Sometimes, there have been glances and snide remarks uttered just loud enough that I would hear them, but always I was excluded from social outings participated in by most of my classmates. I have to be honest here and say that while I was quite numb to being left out, I did feel a general sense of, "hhhhmmmmmphfhfh...".. for the want of a better "word". There was one particular classmate who was popular, and was considered a real up-and-comer (in the cool way, not the nerdy one), and was mighty popular with all the gals. He was The Hott. And he knew it. Boy, did he know it.
I bumped into him a few days back.
He was always short, but he could pull it off quite easily. He always had a weird pallor and texture of skin, but he was ang moh (caucasian) (mom's Maltese) fair, so it was cool. But now.
Now he is short and it is no longer endearing. Because he is also miserably squat. He is still fair and ang moh, but his skin is pale and greasy. He is all of 28, but looks closer to a severely un-dynamic & hugely out-of-shape 37. He works in a non-entity of a consulting company. The only up-and-coming he has achieved is is taking the lift to his office.
I looked at him and thought to myself, "HAH! Take THAT, FUCKFACE!"
So anyway. I usually am quite lackadaisical and don't bother holding grudges. It takes too much work and saps too much energy, and those people ain't worth all that. But there are the exceptions. The ones who stick in your mind (and your craw) and anytime you get a flash of remembrance, that flash includes them. My flash would include a couple of my JC (last 2 years of high school) classmates.
I wasn't popular, I wasn't very attractive, and I wasn't too fond of my classmates. For the most part, I had my friends in class and kept to myself and they kept to themselves. Sometimes, there have been glances and snide remarks uttered just loud enough that I would hear them, but always I was excluded from social outings participated in by most of my classmates. I have to be honest here and say that while I was quite numb to being left out, I did feel a general sense of, "hhhhmmmmmphfhfh...".. for the want of a better "word". There was one particular classmate who was popular, and was considered a real up-and-comer (in the cool way, not the nerdy one), and was mighty popular with all the gals. He was The Hott. And he knew it. Boy, did he know it.
I bumped into him a few days back.
He was always short, but he could pull it off quite easily. He always had a weird pallor and texture of skin, but he was ang moh (caucasian) (mom's Maltese) fair, so it was cool. But now.
Now he is short and it is no longer endearing. Because he is also miserably squat. He is still fair and ang moh, but his skin is pale and greasy. He is all of 28, but looks closer to a severely un-dynamic & hugely out-of-shape 37. He works in a non-entity of a consulting company. The only up-and-coming he has achieved is is taking the lift to his office.
I looked at him and thought to myself, "HAH! Take THAT, FUCKFACE!"