A small boat on a deep ocean

A small boat on a deep ocean, I’m in ‘freeze’ mode. How do I express myself? After working so hard to drag myself out of the gutter, and suddenly trampled by a landslide, I’m here in a daze.

Where did that landslide come from? Did I left it there, to crash? Did I think, it would remain there forever, a patch of eternity. A hill of adversity, proof that everything was real. That she really did hurt me. And I had to heal and sew my wounds back, without anyone to guide me.

Yet her face still linger in my mind, from the last time I visited, it felt, cruel. She will age. She forgets. She will pass by. She will leave. And I remain. 

Sometimes I thought I have accepted, forgiven, moved on. And in many ways, I have. I have accepted that the circumstances happened. That I was too young. That she was struggling too. That it was unfair. That it was bad, but there was also good. That I was alone, but it made me tougher. That no one would fully understand, but some will reach out to hold my hands, eyes glistening with concern, wanting to soothe the ache. 

The changes in her eyes, in her existence, as age clawed  and thawed her, I hate it. If she is no longer the same as before, yet still the same, then does that invalidates everything? The thorns that scratched and digged through me, if it’s no longer visible to the eyes, would anyone believe me anymore?

It’s startling to see someone fading.

Especially when it’s someone who had hurt you so much, yet you can never truly hate.

Someone whom people wanted me to understand even when I was 10. An age too young to be told to be an adult.

A generational trauma I fought to cut.

Dear kin of mine,

Know that I have fought tooth and blood in my own silent way, to distance you from this heavy currents. I want you to sail your boat with a steady heart. On sunny days, I want you to look expectantly towards the sea, beaming with excitement, and not worry about the darkness lurking and rumbling below. 

May the sun warm you, and may your boat reach the shore with ease.

Decluttering #1

 It feels like an invincible rain is pouring down torrents and torrents of rain, and we’re walking on roads overflowing with water, feet soaked because we’re not wearing waterproof shoes, and it doesn’t matter if it’s day or night, because the sky is always grey and cloudy, blocking out any potential sliver of hope from warming our bones or providing some direction for us to choose our path forward. Doesn’t matter what day or hour it is, because how can it matter, when the world around us is shrouded with a haze so thick it leaves us feeling like we’re walking in circles, or maybe not moving at all. Even the streetlights and moments of brightness from cars passing by were shrouded by a thick veil that distorts and creates an illusion that we’re all alone in this world, trying our best to find a way out from this disheartening globe of grey surrounding us. Was there anyone walking around us? How can we know, when our hands are stuffed tightly in our pockets, trying to protect our fragile self from the monstrous coldness trying to freeze us to death all around us, pulling and pulling for us to fall down on the cold asphalt and muddy streets, if not for the rising water on the shallower parts of the city due to the rain that never seems to stop.

Is there anyone around us, trying to reach out to us? Despite our numb figure and downcast head, losing track of time and spirit. How much more energy do we have within us, before our legs crumble and our kneecaps hit the earth, allowing us to stop. Stop having to decide to go forward, to move, to try – because the end is near, is here. And maybe, when we stop, someone will finally be able to reach us. And the rain will finally stop. Maybe if we close our eyes, the sun will shine again, the sky will clear again, and maybe before everything moves to normalcy again, we can finally smile – relieved. We don’t have to fight so hard anymore, Thank God. Thank God everyone is fine, but me. Thank God.