After nearly two years of renting a small unit (after selling my first apartment), I finally moved in to my new home.
A resale HDB unit located on the city fringe of Singapore.
The last few weeks had been hectic.
Moving is no joke.
But it brought a smile to my face because I had been living out of boxes and suitcases during that time.
The entire renovation process of the flat was smooth sailing. But that's story for another day.
Days leading into my move from my tiny rental, Stanley the sex bunny and Carl the dense one came by for a final farewell.
"Actually, this tiny space is very functional," Stanley pointed out.
Sometimes, Stanley can see things from the brighter side.
"Imagine your date sent you home and your goodnight kiss at the door sparked into a series of bigger, messier French kisses," he continued walking and talking as if he were filming some property marketing video content.
"And you're both kissing and feeling your way around the place, peeling off tee-shirts and kicking off shoes all the while not losing mouth-to-mouth contact. All it takes is four big steps to reach this tiny bedroom of yours, Adam," said Stanley who also sees things from the darker side.
Carl the dense one nodded and reached for a plastic cup.
"Are you sad to leave this place?"
I looked to Stanley who's back to normal human mode and said "well, I'm not sad-sad. I do have happy memories staying here, but the prospects of finally moving into a place where there's some form of permanence makes me happy."
"Nothing is permanent in this world," Carl the dense one said in a low, sagely voice, his one palm placed in front of his chest as if he were the Buddha himself, the other hand balancing his glass of afternoon Chardonnay.
That afternoon, the boys had come by to watch the packing done.
I have learnt that I don't need to get my hands dirty and can simply engage people to do that for me.
But right this moment, all that Stanley wants to watch isn't so much packing but unpacking.
"This mover is unusually lean. Look at his veiny arms...." he said in a whisper. "If those limbs are a preview... dear lord, I want him to handle my package."
"Lust leads to suffering," Carl said with his eyes closed, and took a sip of his Chardonnay from the plastic cup.
"If that suffering from lust is pain in my boy hole, I will gladly accept it," Stanley said, bowing in front of Carl the dense one.
Ten minutes into my moving party, Stanley is bored.
"If I hear that sharp pulling sound of the masking tape one more time, I might go deaf," Stanley said.
"But I would rather deaf than blind," he continued, still watching my lean mover with keen interest. "This mover boy is like Medusa. Stare long enough and you will turn into stone," Stanley said, stressing the word stone in a tone that would cause a nun to do the sign of the cross hurriedly.
While Stanley was in preying mode, Carl was in praying mode.
He bowed respectfully in front of my ceramic Buddha statue, his hands clasped, eyes closed.
Not too long ago, Carl had a life changing experience (again, a story I will share soon) and since then, he'd started reading up on Buddhism and frequented temples the way he would gyms.
Stanley and I watched but made no comment. We were determined to be supportive of our friend's newfound direction and journey.
But the current journey is for the movers to make.
Two-and-a-half hours of packing, pulling of the masking tape and boxing up my items -- all 23 boxes of them -- the movers are done.
"Ok, sign here... and we'll move them in the next couple of hours to your new location," a burly Indian man said.
"Goodbyes are so hard to say," Stanley said looking longingly at his lean mover.
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