"I've learnt that if I can't finish posts up, and/or haven't the time or effort to proof-read my posts, sequencing them part-by-part would be so much easier on myself and you guys. So here's part II."

Look at where all of us are today? It's been a year, and everyone seems to be getting along well with whatever they're doing, mugging and all. Soon the guys will go to NS, and the girls to their respective universities.

We're growing up.

Who knew what was in store for us in the future?

Love? Fortune? Success?

This wasn't exactly what I had in mind when I was pulled into one of those palmistry booths during the Halloween Party@ Escape Theme Park.

Why? It was either that or the tarot reading, or gawd forbid, indian fortune-telling (it involves a bird picking a card, of which it would be read off and interpreted by the wisecrack).

So alright, I'm still not the superstitious kind, but hey, it's worth a shot, no?

I'm talking about chinese palmistry, not indian fortune-telling.

I don't know about you people, but I ain't gonna even -bother- listening to some turban guy with an intoxicated bird dancing around on some colourful mat, picking out a card that's going to tell me my future. I wouldn't have one anyway, after I take a whiff of its over-perfumed incense.

I think the bird's high on it.

Anyway, skeptical me entered the booth, and I was greeted by a gypsy.

No shit, we're talking curly hair, shiny white teeth, earrings mimicking aztec culture, a white plain-cut blouse and a crystal-ball.

"Take a seat," she said, as she stretched her arms out waywardly, an obviously sign of fatigue.

I raised an eyebrow, and sat on the unforgiving frigid steel, its piercing wintriness numbing me. Didn't the last guy who sat here just leave? Damn, he must have freakin' cold buttcheeks.

"So, you want your fortune to be told?" She inquired, her calm and steady voice a perforation through the chatter of the queue only a mere metre away from where I was sitting now.

"Alright?"

"Stretch out your hands. (sic)" And I did, my fist semi-clenched, not knowing whether to show her my palm or the back of my hand first.

"Stretch out your hands properly," she repeated once more, this time with a hint of exasperation. I quickly heeded orders.

She took my hand, placing a well-trimmed nail at a line of which cut diagonally through my hand, her perfectly manicured hands feeling the crevasses of which were supposed to whisper to her my destiny.

She looked up, and straight into my eyes. Not one to avoid eye contact, I stared back. Then, she smiled.

"Your hands are clean," she waited for my response.

"Uhh, yeah. I kinda washed them just-" I couldn't resist such a comeback.

"- I mean it in another sense. You haven't sinned with these hands before, have you?" She raised her eyebrows at me, and only then did I notice the extremely thick mascara that she put on her eyes...

"Well, I've sinned alot..."

"I mean, stealing. Killing. Things like that." It was clear she knew I was playing her.

"Well, if you put it that way, no."

She smiled, as though comforted.

"Good. Because the hands never lie. You'll grow up to be someone honest..."

Honest? Hah.

"... Someone sincere... "

That'll be the day.

"... Someone who's true to not only yourself, but to everyone else around you."

"... Uhh, okay?" I was clearly unconvinced.

"Cherish those around you right now. You'll be surprised how many good friends you have."

"..."

"So! On with business. Okay, and so, this line is..."

She pointed out the corresponding lines and their attributes, and gave me the general idea on how things were going to be like.

So far, I am going to...

1. Live to about the seventies - eighties.
2. Have shitty luck with money early on, only to be much, much richer in the future.
3. Gonna get quite a few opportunies early on in life, but I would have to learn how to recognize them.

Here's where skepticism comes along.

If you think about this way, advancements in modern technology in half a century would -probably- get me breathing through a tube if my body does fail before I reach my seventies. I would, in the most literal sense, be a zombie.

As for money, I'm dirt-poor right now. I'm not kidding. As of now, I have... *checks wallet* 8 dollars and 55 cents. Well woop-tee-doo to my being rich in the future, I could be -ten times- as rich as I am now, and only have 85 dollars. Proportionality loopholes aren't funny.

Opportunities? Come on, lah. That happens to -everyone-. You just need half a brain to -realise- that what you're being offered is an opportunity right there, most of the time. Of course, such "opportunities" are usually dumb-ass risks you'll have to take in order to gamble for your success.


I was hemming and hawwing to the vague references towards my supposed fortune, and -then- she becomes all serious-like and warns me.

"Be careful when you reach 40. An illness may catch you off-guard... Probably something to do with the liver."

What about cancer? That would be SO much more melodramatic.

"I'm serious about this. Don't drink so much right now. I can see that you booze quite abit."

"Huh? How do you know?"

"I just know." Ooh. Creepy.

"Okay! So, interested in your love life?" She suddenly perked up, and grinned a toothy one.

I was suddenly intrigued.

I was struck with a prediction that I couldn't believe.

"You're going to have.. hmmm. I can't tell for sure, but at least two sons here," she was using a magnifying glass now, hunting for any clues that would give away my strength in fertility.

Wait.

Hold up one second.

"What do you mean two sons at least?!" I was flabbergasted.

"Well, you'll just have to be careful there, won't you?" She gave me a knowing wink, of which I shrugged off nonchalantly.

Then came the final blow that would probably affect me for a very, very long time.

"Try not to get married before you're 28, of it would end in tragedy."

OHSHITTHEREGOESMYHOPESFORANEARLYMARRIAGEOHGAWDDAMNIT.

"... Huh?"

"Well, you can choose to heed the warning or not, it's up to you. So just have fun now, and take your time to choose your soulmate."

"... Huh."

"Mm, is there anything else you'll like to ask me? I'll try to answer it if I can."

And so I asked her about my near future, of which I was certain she couldn't tell. I needed re-assurance of some sort about the promos.

"Let's see here... Well, you're going to have to take a short break from your studies for awhile as you focus on something new..."

Awshit.

"... And you'll probably be working and studying at the same time soon after. But don't worry about this, everything will turn out fine soon after this."

"And?" I inquired further.

"That's all I can tell. Now, good luck now. Oh, and be careful of the things I told you about."

"Thank you, happy halloween."

"And to you too, dear boy. You'll turn out fine, don't worry."

.
.
.

I return home and told my mum about the gypsy's predictions, only to realise that my eight characters speak of almost the same things.

There were some other revelations that were alittle too similar for comfort.

A mere coincidence, or are our destinies already set?

And I end off with a quote from my father's analogy on life, via presentation of the tangible.

"Some people have it, some people don't. You understand?"

"Okay, let's put it this way. However much make-up an ugly girl puts to beautify herself, she could never be as pretty as the pretty girl with light make-up. And no, don't count plastic surgery."

And I guess that's how Life works.