Sodden

It's one of those days…when you can't wait to get home because you're tearing in public. When home comes to view, you dash to your haven, lock the door, shut the windows, draw the curtains and crawl to bed. You slowly coil yourself into the fetal position and take comfort offered by darkness. Then you press your face down on the sodden pillow, wet with your tears so no one can hear you.

Trials started today, and I know the above is exceedingly dramatic. My first paper was a practical and I came out of the lab with a distinct feeling that I had screwed it up. Yes, so what, it's just trials right, and this is just one out of the six papers for the subject. But, there was a prevailing sentiment that this was the preview of what is in store for me in the weeks to come.

The minus point about having a direction in life is that you never seem to have the means to 'take the leap'. It's like long jump, back in Form 3; I never could land with both feet although I technically knew I could, more like I wished I could.

I went to see my Chemistry lecturer today, to get some papers from him. He was surprisingly obliging, in fact, all the lecturers are. They smile more, and you get the feeling that they actually care for you and feel your pain.

"So, need anything else?"
"This is it, for now."
"Eh, wait, this…your forecast…"
"I already have it right.."
"…this is different…so what do you want…eh heh?"
I was just to blur to gauge what was happening..
"There…A…. You make sure you follow through for the real exam…I'm betting on you…will lose 5 bucks.."
"Huh? Who you betting with?"
Laughs…"Myself…heh.."

Conversations like this leave a trailing bitter aftertaste. No, it's not pressure, it's the realization that you could end up with things other than a distinction. It's just a pity, considering I need them to get me anywhere.

"You make things hard for yourself…", Aveena told me this and I couldn't rebuff her. It's true. It's the one thing I do to make my isolated life profound. It’s the way I live my life and everyone has the right to choose how to go about living the life. When you disappoint yourself, there's always a time when you just except your shortcomings and move on. I mean, who else is there but yourself? It's different though, with other people, especially if you know they are sweating blood for you.

Despite the morning's drawback, I stuck to my plan. Go to British Council and do my stuff after days of cooping myself up at home. There was a Bob Marley look-a-like strumming the guitar, singing and making a living for himself at the underground walkway connecting the LRT to KLCC. Nothing beats the sound of resonating strings and a good voice…its stark, naked,vulnerable, simple and direct. When I could have just stuck to read English, live-talk-eat-sleep in prose, feed the hopelessly romantic me, I choose to expose myself to the parasitic, harsh and unforgiving reality of life.

Recent times have made me think my prayers, dreams and everything else have fallen on deaf ears. After last year's (thankfully) brief spell of being an Unbeliever, I am not going to torture myself with that hollow emptiness again. So, when you close your eyes and think of Him, do put in a good word for me. Tell Him I wish to remain sane if all else fails. Tell Him I'm a walking-talking-laughing-breathing zombie. Tell Him I need strength. Tell him I need hope. And tell Him I need faith - in myself.


The only comforting sound now is my breathing.