busy morning thoughts - china, lady gaga and the global economic landscape

it was a quarter past eight. too early in the morning for angels of the dark to be awake. his mind was a fog.  he could hardly keep his eyes open.

he was standing at the lobby of the four seasons hotel, waiting for the lift to come and take him to the grand ballroom. where he would spend an hour in the company of bankers, fund managers and business men in dark suits. listening to a famous international economist talk about asia's economic prospects over the next ten years. how china's trumpeted economic miracle is standing on shaky grounds. all it will take is just a minor shake and the whole thing will crumble. or does it?

he was dressed appropriately (an outsider pretending to be part of the circle, but still looking like an outsider). in beige brooks brothers pants. cut narrowly to flatter his well toned legs. baby pink paul smith shirt, topped with dark blue blazer from ralph lauren. tom ford glasses to cover his still sleepy eyes and dark spots under them. brown crockett and jones leather shoes. he has been told never to pick brown for shoes because the color is not dressy enough. not versatile enough. but he loves brown. always does. he has worn black leather shoes before. but even the most expensive, well made ones make him look and feel like going to a funeral. or worse, the one inside the coffin.

he smiled at these thoughts as a woman, a glamourous amazon in dark business suit, approached him and showed him his table. just a few meters away from where the speakers will be.

at exactly nine in the morning, the preaching began. to fight the urge to sleep, he concentrated on the face of the speaker. he looked perky and handsome for someone who makes a living analysing the global economy. postulating how china, india and japan's relationship could shape up asia's future. the speaker, tall, tanned, toned in a black business suit, with slick hair and smooth face looked like the british actor jeremy irons. maybe it's him. in one of his incarnations. even his accent. clear, distinct, regal.

&&&&&

twenty minutes into the talk and he wished he didn't cum. he should have told his editor that covering an event before having breakfast is bad for his health. doctor's order.

&&&&&

he slept late the other night. he watched the concert of the artist lady gaga and spent a fortune for it. it was well worth it. she wasn't just a terrific performer, she has the voice to back it up.  her opening number alone -- her riding a horse wearing metallic costume that made her look like a knight in a not so shiny armour -- was already worth the price. the set too was spectacular.

the show would have been flawless if the singer just avoided her god is great spiels (in between songs, of course). her declarations about celebrating one's uniqueness (ignoring those bullies) and going for your dream no matter what were corny. seemed insincere. she sounded like a preacher, in a black, shiny two piece bikini. the audience lapped it up, though.

overall, the show deserved a twelve on scale of one to ten. the costumes were fabulous. the choreography was seamless.

lady gaga, who looked so tiny (he was guessing five feet?), captivated the entire arena the size of two football fields. she had them at the palm of her hands. what a power! a china, india and united states combined. that was her theme too, conquering hong kong at the end of the night.

god and religion aside, her spiels were gay, so gay that he couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe, he was a man impersonating a woman behind those masks, pantyhose, seven inch heels and long, blond hair. gyrating erotically beside sweaty, sexy, muscled handsome men.

it was sexy without being raunchy. he danced to the songs that he knew: paparazzi, poker face.

but he couldn't shake the feeling that he was watching another madonna permutation. only better.

but never mind.

he had fun. for once in a long, long while, he felt young.

&&&&&

when he reached home, a friend called. a former model. he wanted to have a few drinks. he said he has a problem. he ignored him. he knew his game and he felt he was too old for such games.

it was fifteen past midnight.

witching hour.

his friend knew him well.

it's around midnight when loneliness sinks in.

when you feel that, well, you are alone and nothing can make the feeling go away except in the presence of another warm,  young, well toned body.

suddenly, he missed his scent.

&&&&&

it would be easy to end this all, he thought. as he was crossing the street on the way to his flat. just ignore the traffic light and boom. gone. or just stay close to the edge of the window of his 17th floor flat and let the wind carry his body to nothingness.

but that would be messy. he hated blood. he didn't want to look ugly too on his last day on earth.

the simplest thing would be to drink something.

&&&&&&

he wanted his last day to be like colin firth's professor character in a single man, tom ford's gorgeous adaptation of christopher isherwood's lush novel. he wanted too to be seduced by two gorgeous men: spanish model jon kortajarena and british hunk nicholas hoult. on a single day. hours in between them.

truth be told, just one night with jon and he would be ready to call it quits. colin was a fool, he should have taken jon home. or slept with nicholas. then he could die with a smile on his lips. fool!

he used to have them. young gorgeous men asking him out. begging him to let them sleep at his makati flat. he used to be the master of their game.

now he simply felt old.

lady gaga was wrong: there is nothing blissful about getting what you want. because after that, what?

mediocrity is the new black.

&&&&&&

"i can never make these moments last.

i cling to them, but like everything they fade.

i've lived my life on these moments.

they pull me back to the present.

and i realise that everything is exactly the way it's meant to be."

                             -- george falconer, a single man.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

in 2030, the economist said -- in a voice so soothing, so intimate, he imagined they were seated together, knees touching, sipping a glass of wine in  a dimly lit bar while talking about -- china and india will be the biggest and second biggest economies in the world, eclipsing the united states, europe and japan.

but.

there is always a but. not my favourite word, but it's necessary. it's a good break, cum to think of it.

china must liberalize further its economy. open up its capital markets. free the renminbi and let its value be determined by market forces. what market forces? he has heard these things before. spoken differently, by different people at a different time and place. circles, the world is going on circles.

he thought the concept of a free market economy has all been bruised and blackened by what happened to the united states and europe in the most recent past that led to the global financial crisis or as the economist called it -- gfc.

but who cares?

he doesn't.

&&&&&

tomorrow. everybody will wake up from this dream.

or nightmare.

and china, india, the united states, japan, europe and south east asia will be nothing but the memories of a distant past.

like the innocent smile on his lips, one blistering summer afternoon, when he was first kissed near the river bank. when he first saw his long time crush naked, hiding under a big, wet, slippery rock.

ah..those days.

(fotos not mine; taken from different websites. no copyright infringements intended)