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read between the lines
off again i have to get up in 6 hours, i haven't packed and i'm still up. guess i can't sleep again tonight. and i travel light anyway, to me i see no point in carrying tonnes of luggage if one is only going to have so limited a time to oneself, in a hotel room of one's own (good for holding monologues or talking to the Invisible Presence in the room without confirming others' suspicions that i am a kook), in addition to the rest of the day which will be filled by one's church group itinerary.besides, i need to let out some thoughts anyway, in a quick and fast manner, so this will be the last time i will be able to before i'm off and away tomorrow (one bad thing about blogging is it makes the hand lazy to write). so i know i'll be kept to myself mostly, since i am the "independent explorer" in this group, as usual. but...i'm looking forward to the fact that i will be able to get away from here for awhile. somehow the physical affects the psychological...and it feels good being away from the epicentre of life's events for the moment. a more cowardly definition would be that i'm "running away" again. on top of that, i got an email from someone in authority who "wants to speak personally with me" regarding what, i do not know. i really hate it when people say that because from past experience, every time people want to have a word with me, it means i've done something wrong without knowing i was, and i am going to get some kind of (a) shelling and (b) interrogation, both of which intimidate me, though the latter does so more. i have been known to burst into tears out of heightened fear and pressure during unpleasantly long sessions of interrogation by certain confrontational (read: scary) people. i dread the impending conversation with this person. the end of the third week is drawing near. and i feel grateful that god is still holding me up above these waves that i've been engulfed in for way too long. i've had glimpses of joy in these past three weeks, and that's a significant thing because i can't recall the last time i've ever felt joyful (as opposed to happy). and is this love i feel for my biological brother? i don't know how it happened, and it's not like i've not been wanting it to happen, but i just haven't been able to do that despite continuous, repeated efforts to do what the good book says and literally "love your brother". i can honestly say this is of no doing of mine; because even in my conversations with god i was saying, "yeah, it'd be great if you could include my brother in the list of people my heart needs to genuinely have your capacity to love, but you know how unlikely that is." not only that, my parents and i have not been at loggerheads with each other. and the great thing is, nothing's changed in my family. except me. my mom still worries and frets like crazy over the little things often, but i am no longer prone to infection from her unnecessary anxiety. somehow or other i am able to diffuse it by some god-given ability to make her aware that she's worrying over nothing, instead of take the bait and get agitated. my dad still, at times, jumps to conclusions and gets angry over what he thinks i say is an insult when in truth i am asking an innocent question, but i no longer get equally riled up when he tells me to shut up and take that as the cue to begin defending myself verbally (and physically, should things escalate to that). i really don't know how other than to credit god for it, but at that particular moment i start to feel really ticklish, giggle-wise and suddenly my dad's anger seems like a funny thing to laugh at, even though i have the sense not to reveal it. i think this is how my auntie used to feel in the old days when i was in her care during afternoons on normal school days. i was in primary school then and i remember being quite a handful to look after, not only because i was so adventurous but also because i was a very stubborn, strong-willed and opinionated child (this was the general consensus among the adults). i still am in some areas, i guess. haha. anyway every evening when my parents came for me, my aunty would give them daily reports of my bad record -- all the quarrels, all the things i should not have touched or done, etc. but the thing i always found amusing, and something i could never quite understand, was that when she was relating the day's events, she was always smiling and even laughing at points, like it was a great big joke that i was so naughty, that i caused her so much pain (headaches and cysts followed). or perhaps i am wrong and she was laughing because she was trying to be polite, who knows. all i know is, i like that i'm finally becoming who i've wanted to be for so long. and i hope i don't regress, because i am well-known for falling back after having moved forward a little. i've only said the first part but i've already written so much. so i think i will stop here and get my ass packing. sleeping is almost out of the question, but i have found that i can do pretty well without much sleep for certain spurts of time. it's not like i'd be in dreamland anyway when i'm lying in bed; my mind is a hard thing to put to rest. |
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