i aM hAPpY

After three weeks of not having much to do, there was a frantic scramble over the last three days. The result of which is that I have to pack my bags and move once again. I often wonder if the blood of the voyager lives in me.

This time though, I am going to a happy place. I received an offer to study Speech-Language Pathology from my dream school. I am going to the States! And it makes me a happy girl.

Bizarre events have happened over the last three weeks. It has spooked me. From cemeteries to robberies to stabbings. A friend once told me, if it is meant to be, the journey will be very very smooth. But this fork along the road has been full of obstacles, so perhaps I made a wrong turn somewhere.

I definitely believe in signs.
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LonG dAYs

The days are really long. Too long, in fact. I spend a lot of time sitting and staring out into space. As if willing something to appear before my eyes. Something that would occupy me, possibly consume the whole of my being. The initial enthusiasm at leaving home to pursue my studies has been abruptly and rudely dampened. And they say first impressions last.

The longer I sit having nothing to do, the more I start doubting my own ability to be a student again. I look around at the fresh young teens straight from high school, and I am reminded of how old I am in comparison to them. Not that I am embarrassed about my age or anything. It’s just that knowing I am almost twice the age of some of them can be a rather sobering epiphany.

I am having a terrible headache from sleeping too much.
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cLOck

"You can't turn back the clock. But you can wind it up again."

(Bonnie Prudden)
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sToRieS

He likes telling stories. I like listening to his stories. In his stories, I learn a lot of truths about myself. Some of which would have been buried with me had he not reminded me of their presence.

The first time I spoke with him was entirely coincidental. Well, actually all the times I have spoken with him are coincidental. Somehow, we remember each other even in the coincidental, haphazard way that we meet.

The last time I met him, I was going through a pretty rough patch. “Don’t give up,” he said. And that was the most important thing I’d heard said to me then. In a way, it is almost as if he understands me better than I do myself.

It’s been a year. If I see him now, I want to tell him that I’ve found a point again. I want to tell him I’m really pursuing my further studies in speech therapy. I want him to be proud of me.

And they call him “boss”.
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aT OdDs

I am caught in a very strange situation.

While everyone else I know is complaining about the lack of time to do what they want to do, I am faced with the prospect of having too much time on my hands for the next two weeks. So much time I don’t know what to do with myself, apart from being bored out of my mind. I never knew I’d say this but I wish time would move a little faster, at least for the next 14 days.

While everyone else I know needs sleep badly after they’ve worked hard, I am feeling tired without having done anything. I am so sleepy just sitting here doing nothing I am surprised inertia takes so much out of me. Whatever is the opposite of insomnia, I think I have it. It is a real challenge to get past the 3 o’clock drowse hour.

Going one step forward and two steps back. Or something like that.
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i WisH

I wish reality could be kinder to me. Even if a little bit.

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thErE & NoT TheRE

It’s weird how fast some people can just disappear from your life. As if they were never there in the first place. And as your memory fades, you begin to wonder whether you made it all up or whether those interactions really took place.

Sometimes though, the more you try to force yourself to forget a certain person, the more you remember. And for some strange reason, everywhere you turn you see little reminders that make you think of them again.

I long for peace, in the ruckus of my unquiet mind.
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aGe

I have always been quite comfortable with my self, despite the constant chattering in my head. I suspect it’s an age thing. The older I grow, the more I can tolerate myself. I can sit alone for hours, caught up in my own thoughts or just generally watching the world go by. Guess I’m lucky in that sense. Or maybe, I’m just awkward with people.

A lot of things change when one grows older, as I’m slowly coming to realise. And it’s not just physical changes, like love handles or wrinkles that won’t go away. It affects my head too. My mind is filled with so many worries about not being able to fit into student life again. Of course, it didn’t help when I discovered at enrolment today that my undergraduate academic transcript is no longer valid as a proof of identification as it is more than 10 years old (but my credit card is totally acceptable).

So yes, even as I look forward to the start of school, my enthusiasm is tempered with caution. Because the fire of passion in me now glows rather than flames.

It is not impossible to teach an old dog new tricks, perhaps it just takes longer.
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aLL gRowN Up

I had my last farewell lunch today with my best friend from high school, ending a 3-week run of gatherings and goodbyes. Like I said, I have accumulated a lot of ties, both human and emotional, over the last 10 years. And I am unable to just turn and walk away. It is not in my character to do so. Sentimentality is my middle name.

Packing, has taken on manic proportions. All around me, I stare at the spoils of my many many many, way-too-many shopping trips over the years. And I feel bad, for indulging in the commercialism that I so righteously claim to want to rid the world of. At least, I don’t remember having to deal with the problem of surplus (glut) when I left for university 14 years ago.

So after all this, I just want to tell him that the baby elephant has grown up and broken free of her chains.

And he looked pleased.
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My muSe

My muse has two incarnations. One yin, one yang. One female, one male. One bright, one dark. Polar opposites.

I know not when they came into my life. They just crept in one day, without cymbals and fanfare. I discovered Mr. D first, entirely by chance. Then, I became acquainted with Ms. M all too soon. And that moment of acknowledgement brought about great turmoil, as well as a strange sense of peace.

I draw a lot of strength from my muse. For they speak the internal dialogue that accompanies me in my daily life and living. With my muse, I have travelled to the highest mountains, and descended into the deepest valleys. In our 3-dimensional world, they occupy the 4th dimension. Seemingly there, and yet not there.

These days, it is getting more and more difficult to summon my muse. It is as if a light switched off somewhere, and they went into hiding. I don’t know what to do to bring the pair back, except that the road surely leads to madness.

They say you should never name your muse.
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mY BesT fRieND

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