I've never liked my own culture, even though I'm a Chinese by birth. I've never identified myself with my birth culture. I've never liked it. I especially hate the noise by getai and getai singers during the Seventh Month.

That doesn't mean that I like or have to tolerate the inconsiderate acts of other cultures.

I've shouted vulgarities down at an Indian wedding taking place before. Granted I was in a stupor of sleep-dazed then, and their noises at the void deck of the block beside of mine had made me extremely cranky. I'd yelled for them to "shut the fuck up down there!" Yes, it was a wedding. No, I couldn't care less.

Today, it's a Malay wedding.

They had singing and loud music which had started from before 1pm, and had continued all the way till 7pm, rested for 30 minutes, and started up again.

As I write this, my patience wears thin. It's getting worse than frayed. I don't fucking give a damn whether it's a happy thing like a wedding or whatever. You-don't-become-a-public-nuisance. I don't fucking care if your RELIGION has the custom of letting everyone know that the married couple is legitimate.

Read my words: I. Don't. Fucking. Give. A. Damn.

I don't care if this offends Malays. I don't give a shit if this offends my Malay friends.

If my dad hadn't stopped me, I would've gone down there and made their celebrations so much of a Hell that that would be a real wedding they will never, ever forget.

Fuck this.