06/06/2019

"All I see before me is that final 24 hours in Adelaide. The sadness swam in their eyes and their hearts shattered into pieces."

The moment I close my eyes to that particular song, all I see in my mind is that vision dancing in my mind. The vision where they forced themselves to hold back their tears for the fear of flooding the tears with the sticky solution. Come to think of it, it may be a subconscious cry for me to slow down and smell the roses, so to speak. It may also be an indication that I’m using the alternate universe or a happier past to cope with all the earthly stressors.

The document that did a 180 on me arrived on my doorstep faster than I expected. Any form of elation was replaced with a wave of anger in my bloodstream. Anger that I played my cards in the wrong fashion, which backfired in my face and landed me with irreversible changes. Anger that everything in my plans derailed like a train driver who has lost control. My circle of friends will never have an understanding of how I’m feeling unless I speak of it - and you may ask why I’d rather torture myself emotionally than to let them know.

I’ve said it from time to time: it’s my battle to fight and I’ll deal with it alone. Yes, you’ll definitely remind me that what I’m suppressing and what I’m projecting to those around me will crash into each other and make a clear path murky. And yes, it’s exhausting down to the bones to feign that everything is okay when it is not, but it is what it is.

I found myself reliving a flashback of me travelling with the Carries, Papa Carrie’s business acquaintance, and the guy’s family to a resort interstate. While I don’t remember the exact details of that trip, we were there at night. I wore the pair of Japanese flip-flops as the adults gathered at the cafe near the swimming pool. The children - two boys of differing ages - and I were close by, doing our own thing. Maybe the large age gap created an element of awkwardness between us - or I’m distant whenever I’m introduced to someone new. I need time to warm up to the person. I’m not shy; just … cautious, for lack of a better word.

Could this be a sign that I’m living in the reminiscence of the ancient days? For all I know, I’ve descended to a stage where I could care less about the wonderful Pandora’s box of the future. All of the unexplainable pain and aches that left me for such a long time have returned to harass me on a frequent basis. The recent one came when I returned to my cubicle after completing a task. As the pain knocked on my ribcage, I had to hold it while I hid behind the table to let the pain go away on its own. Maybe what I read is true after all: pains and aches will manifest weirdly out of stress and anxiety. Don’t let the looks fool you; I’m in a world of stress and anxiety as its toppings.