Unstable. I think that’s the most perfect word to decribe my state of mind for these past few weeks. Have you ever felt as though you’re living life without really tasting its zest? Have you ever gone through a blurry period, only to come to a point where you suddenly are jolted from your sweet slumber and feel as though you’ve been sleepwalking all this while? Everything you go through is bland, monotonous, almost robotic, mechanical even. Makes you wonder whether you’ve just taken a sabbatical from Life itself.
I think I have just made it past that stage. I don’t really know when specifically, perhaps it was after the JB wedding, but then the precise time doesn’t really matter anyway.
I remember a week I had which was undoubtedly one of the most intense week I had ever experienced. I somehow felt in need of both solitude and company at the same time. Mostly though, I felt in need of time to just reflect. The problem was, that week had me thinking and recollecting A LOT. I remember another thing too. I had worn a lot of black that week. If what we wear is reflective of our mood, what exactly was my mood? Is black the colour of despair? I just needed to breathe.
Overwhelmed. Another good word to describe how I felt. Have you ever tried recollecting your thoughts in a mosque before? It has a strange, calming effect. Things become clearer. Perhaps that was the first step I took towards reclaiming Reality. I had to escape the almost intoxicating effect of endlessly dreaming my Life away.
Khairie had told me to write poetry when I asked him how I was to stay awake in BM class, and so I did. I ended up writing a few, not knowing how or why the words easily tumbled out, screaming all that I wanted to let out. I didn’t even know until then that I was supressing something. Sofia had said I sounded rebellious in them. Is that so? Who am I then? All my life, I’ve been associated with the words ‘prim’, ‘proper’, ’serious’, ’sensible’, ‘goody two shoes’, ‘geek’ etc etc. Am I really a rebel? Perhaps at that moment in time, I was just aching to shake out of my ordinary, boring being. So perhaps, my true nature can only be confined to words. I do feel like sharing one particular poem here, but I fear it might be too racy controversial for the typical conservative Malaysian audience. GAH.
Sigh. Perhaps I just need to accept life for what it is, and I can’t risk abandoning the safe road I lead. More thrills might be in store for me if I choose another path, but what guarantee is there that I will be eternally content? There are none. Perhaps that is why all of us choose the path more trodden. Tis the secure way.
Another thing. I seem to be suddenly besotted by strange, almost idiotic and quite bluntly, useless questions as of late. Like ‘is it called heartstrings because your heart becomes a puppet?’ and ‘can solitude become your company?’ and ‘is there any such thing as an honest deception?’ and ‘is Love free or is it priceless?’. I am too odd.
One final thing.
Have you ever felt as though you’re waiting for something? It’s not exactly the same thing as expecting, just that you have this sixth sense something’s about to happen, and it’s just around the corner, but you’re never quite making the turn, and you can almost touch what’s around that bend. But still. You’re just waiting. I’m waiting for the unexpected and the unknown. I remember a line from a favourite book of mine, I Capture The Castle, where the young Cassandra had uttered how content she was when her family was poor, for they always looked towards something which was the day they became rich. When fortune finally smiled upon them though, she began missing the days of waiting and anticipating. Her days were more colourful that way. I guess Khairie was right on that too when he mentioned about the Hagakure. Man are contradicting creatures. The question is, will I be just as discontent as Cassandra when I make that bend? I don’t expect you to understand…which is why I asked you to ignore this in the first place. Time will tell.
Enough said here.
