Reconstruction theory

Today I saw what people want and what people need.

Heading to a flea market behind Cineleisure, I passed a group of wheelchair-bound folks selling flags for the Handicaps Welfare Association. One of them joked to another that they should position their wheelchairs in a ba-gua formation so that more commuters have to pass them to get across.

I like this spirit they have. At a charity event that I hosted, they were the same folks who played basketball on wheelchairs. I was even part of their team against the public in one match. I swear that even if I played running on my feet, I'd still lose out to those pros. One of them, if I remember correctly, was also a student in NTU. He was the star player among them and I vaguely remember seeing him around school. Looked out for him among those selling flags today but didn't spot him.

At the flea market, I spotted Dawn Yeo. (Or Yang or whichever surname the alleged plastic surgeried blogger is using now) She was peddling her goods (real goods, not... and real authentic, not... oh well, this is hard) with her mother. Or someone who looks like an older version of her. (Let's call this person OVOH) Wait, if what everyone said about her cosmetic surgery is true, then it's just spooky that OVOH looks somewhat alike! OR should we just say that science is really advanced.

Anyway, I don't exactly care if Dawn had surgery or not. After that, it just dawned (totally not intended) on me that there are people who wished for some sort of reconstruction just to be able to lead a normal (who's to say what's normal anyway) life. And there are always those who choose to undergo reconstruction to achieve some sort of socially glorified standards of beauty. Yet, there's this disturbingly warped similarity of yearning to be accepted.

Kinda weird.

Anyway, when I was leaving town, I bumped into the NTU star player at the entrance of a toilet. He was wheeling himself out. I gave way. He said thanks.

It wasn't a toilet for handicaps.

As much as society sets unwritten norms, it all boils down to how much we think we need to conform. Sometimes, it's a necessity; and other times just deemed necessary.

I have a bedroom that's fine. I'm thinking of reconstructing it before I start work. It's a need. I'm quite sure this is a need.