Thursday, February 03, 2005
What Do I Know.
I know, that beyond what I can see with my naked eye, there is somebody somewhere possibly the same age as me, a girl like me , and probably doing exactly the same job as me, possibly not working today like me, on the other side of the world or possibly in the flat next door, feeling completely different to me. H.A.P.P.Y.
I am not unhappy . It’s more like being caught in a giant Tarantula cobweb. You are stuck. You just have to pause for a while and let the cerebral catch up with the fast moving reality, instead of wriggling about to send the eddies and repercussion of distress to the Tarantula, which will know the dinner is served.
That kind of not quite unhappy with a dash of helplessness on a bad day, especially when it's post-on call and the telly is showing faff-all talk shows and snow flakes on Channel 5.
This she-someone would have had a shower and possibly has had a phone call from The One. She would have had her first of many smiles today. The One possibly work somewhere out of town and is dying to get back to meet her. He calls her daily not because he’s afraid that somebody else might be in bed with her, somebody might have made her want to leave him, somebody might have lured her into his love nest, but because he genuinely cares. He loves her. He trusts her.
It is comforting to know that somebody somewhere out there is having exactly the soup of what my life is, the goodness bits and pieces floating, the richness with paraphernalia and condiments that come with the soup, and the sheer volume of steamy calming filler for an empty gastric, waiting to be savoured.
It is unsettling to know however, that she is living a more meaningful, wholesome, rewarding yet simple life, because I know mine is simple, but not quite as meaningful. I am jealous of this.
Could I be entering a zone of comfort but too cobwebbed to realize that I am also emotionally bankrupt?
Am I already on the maximum limit of my overdraft?
I am terrified of this.
Everyday we wake up to attain a certain goal in life. Some put it in a form of a scrap book, some in a form of a blog, a diary, a pink book, whatever. Some just take one day at a time hoping that by miraculous push and pull of the remnant of the Big Bang and hobnobbing of the people around them, they are going to reach that state of , at ease, ultimate peace with self.
Everyday we choose to do A instead of B. Or B instead of C, D, and E. A long time ago I chose to do medicine. Had I not done that, would I still be playing in the orchestra? Would I now own a den full of oil and canvasses, painting when my 2 year old is in bed and my husband kissing my bareback, wanting me? Would I be on my many designing building projects around KL, with my husband as my superior? Or , would I be a divorcee, pissing myself on the floors of Passion, Velvet or Mumbo Jumbo every Friday night?
The more dormant I am the more my brain goes into this default clairvoyance. I should have been born in the Zaman Kesultanan Melayu Melaka and be married to Hang Lekir because he was the quiet and shy one.
I think somebody spiked my tea at work.
I am not unhappy . It’s more like being caught in a giant Tarantula cobweb. You are stuck. You just have to pause for a while and let the cerebral catch up with the fast moving reality, instead of wriggling about to send the eddies and repercussion of distress to the Tarantula, which will know the dinner is served.
That kind of not quite unhappy with a dash of helplessness on a bad day, especially when it's post-on call and the telly is showing faff-all talk shows and snow flakes on Channel 5.
This she-someone would have had a shower and possibly has had a phone call from The One. She would have had her first of many smiles today. The One possibly work somewhere out of town and is dying to get back to meet her. He calls her daily not because he’s afraid that somebody else might be in bed with her, somebody might have made her want to leave him, somebody might have lured her into his love nest, but because he genuinely cares. He loves her. He trusts her.
It is comforting to know that somebody somewhere out there is having exactly the soup of what my life is, the goodness bits and pieces floating, the richness with paraphernalia and condiments that come with the soup, and the sheer volume of steamy calming filler for an empty gastric, waiting to be savoured.
It is unsettling to know however, that she is living a more meaningful, wholesome, rewarding yet simple life, because I know mine is simple, but not quite as meaningful. I am jealous of this.
Could I be entering a zone of comfort but too cobwebbed to realize that I am also emotionally bankrupt?
Am I already on the maximum limit of my overdraft?
I am terrified of this.
Everyday we wake up to attain a certain goal in life. Some put it in a form of a scrap book, some in a form of a blog, a diary, a pink book, whatever. Some just take one day at a time hoping that by miraculous push and pull of the remnant of the Big Bang and hobnobbing of the people around them, they are going to reach that state of , at ease, ultimate peace with self.
Everyday we choose to do A instead of B. Or B instead of C, D, and E. A long time ago I chose to do medicine. Had I not done that, would I still be playing in the orchestra? Would I now own a den full of oil and canvasses, painting when my 2 year old is in bed and my husband kissing my bareback, wanting me? Would I be on my many designing building projects around KL, with my husband as my superior? Or , would I be a divorcee, pissing myself on the floors of Passion, Velvet or Mumbo Jumbo every Friday night?
The more dormant I am the more my brain goes into this default clairvoyance. I should have been born in the Zaman Kesultanan Melayu Melaka and be married to Hang Lekir because he was the quiet and shy one.
I think somebody spiked my tea at work.
