Autotelic - Dahilan

I feel my chest tighten - my lips slam shut and I feel something bottled up inside my throat. I struggle to take a breath and try to open my mouth again, but a gasp only escapes me. I think of fish and the endless way their mouth opens and closes; I feel myself getting red in the face. I see you furrow your eyes in worry, and I try to communicate by my eyes that this is okay, that this happens. I know I fail.

This is how it feels. This is how it feels to be stopped by your own body, to feel yourself powerless to explain.



Points On A Plane

It has been a while. Work has kept me busy lately, so I haven't had enough time to write. 

Whoa. This is a truth, but it still feels weird to hear it. It has been a busy couple of months, and since my last post in January, a lot of things have changed, the least of which is my career. Work has been crazy. I'm still new, and I'm still getting used to a lot of things, but it's been alright. Frankly, it has been one crazy adjustment one after another, but at the end of the day, I'm still glad about it. 

On the other side of things... 

I think I'm a bit lonely. I'm missing a lot of people. We see each other every so often, but a few days after, I'm missing them again. It's a bit different from wanting - I find myself yearning for more simpler days. for far more simpler times. 

I know it's days I won't be able to get back. And I know, that when my friends feel like this, I can spit back all the good things, all the positive thoughts to cheer them up. 

But it doesn't seem to stick. 

I think we're all terrified of the future. Nay - I know that we are. Each and everyone of us are leading more and more separate lives - like we're all diverging lines from a single point of origin on a single plane. And that, quite frankly, is terrifying. I sincerely am scared that one day I'll wake up and realize it's been twenty years since college, and it's been months since I last talked to my friends. It scares me to think that in a few years' time, we'll all be with different sets of people. 

I see the kids here at my job, and I can't help thinking how many of these relationships will last until college. I see them walk, arms linked across each other, with the boys with their awkward voices, their awkward height and the girls with their giggles and spring-loaded steps. I can't help but be cynical. 

But this is a fallacy. My experiences should not color their own. 

I don't know where I'm going with this rant. Suffice it to say that this post is for all the times I have missed the past. Suffice it to say that this post is a tribute to our fears, to our joys, to our future. Suffice it to say that I miss all of you, and I wish we could go someplace soon. 


Numbers II

NP: Vivir, Mowat

7. June has been a strange month, and it's still a cliche to say this, but it needs to be said. It has been a month of definite downs and absolute highs, with almost nothing in between to stabilize myself in. A part of me wants to deny it, but in the interest of mental health, I find myself denying the need to deny.

8. The first fight of the day begins the moment I open my eyes: I am tied down by the warmth of my bed, by the coziness of my pillows. To close my eyes is to surrender my body to the warm, enveloping wave of my bed, and the gentle drone of the fan. To get up is to admit prisoner to the cold, hard floor, but it is still the cold floor I seek, so I can start my day fully.

9. I consider you one of my constants. You are not only the anchor that ties me down, but also the wind that blows and refreshes. You are not only the ocean that I steer in, but also the stars that guide and direct. You are the ship, the people and the energy, the quiet lull in the morning, the gentle breeze of the sea. I miss you, and I miss being with you, in its simplest and truest sense.