I can't sleep.
This shouldn't come as a surprise. I know it's nice, this idea of rest and respite. Yet this is not my first time, my circadian rhythm being misaligned, it's not fine, this plight of mine.
I can't sleep.
What would you have me do? My thoughts are few - 'tis true - but they're the cause of my blues. My mind cannot divine this line between good, bad, maybe both are entwined?
I can't sleep.
It's the prevailing thought of yesteryear, the anguish and tears, the isolation and fear. Misguided or misconstrued, what was done to me was crude, and thus my heart was bruised.
I can't sleep.
Ten months I've spent, through confessions and rants, whether improvised or planned, I had hoped that I've moved; I've processed; I've accepted.
I CAN'T SLEEP.
Alas, nights like these, they make me doubt if I had put enough effort to let go.
Funny, why should there be any effort put in letting go?
I don't know.
Do you?
Thursday, June 20, 2019
Thursday, June 6, 2019
Musings before my flight home; Things that have happened.
So I took a fall a little over a month ago while longboarding through Tempe. Pretty random thing to highlight I admit, but it felt significant because of the vulnerability I felt and the exhilaration of feeling pain that I haven't felt in a while. Oxymoronic really, yet it made me feel alive, cliche as it sounds.
But enough of that, I should be writing about my imminent return to Malaysia, possibly the last one in a while, anticipating I will be staying back for the subsequent summers to possibly accelerate my graduation if I plan it out well enough.
The days leading up to this moment have been interesting, to say the least.
For one, I was experiencing a bit of a relapse in my brooding over my previous relationship. Old news really, which made me all the more frustrated at myself, yet it happened. Maybe it's the imminent return to the place where the breakup happened. Whether I like it or not, I guess my mind has associated that episode to the place. Maybe it's the recent social media hints of my ex moving on to someone else. Trivial really, yet I seem to be affected. I guess if there's anything I should take away from this recent experience, it's that I have much work left in processing this grief. But I am hopeful of moving on, that's for sure.
For another, the people I have been meeting the past few days, both new and familiar, have been an immense blessing during this season of my life. Perhaps it is through His good timing that I got to experience the interactions I have been having the past few days,and as it turns out they were precisely what I needed to move through the relapse.
San Jose was kind to me, my cousin's friends played host to the two of us and were immensely generous with their time and resources, and that did quite a bit to take my mind off things. Yet Los Angeles was kinder still, in spite of her rough edges, where I got to meet with two friends I knew from ICOM, of whom I've not chatted with in years. Indeed this reunion was refreshing and meaningful; the conversations about life, love, grief, and hope were what I needed but didn't know I need. And friends that I thought I may have lost through time, turned out to feel like we were never parted to begin with.
I guess ultimately, I just wanted to pen down this strange, yet rather optimistic hope that I have moving forward, as I prepare to return home, what come may. Here's to a brighter future, in spite of my doubts.
But enough of that, I should be writing about my imminent return to Malaysia, possibly the last one in a while, anticipating I will be staying back for the subsequent summers to possibly accelerate my graduation if I plan it out well enough.
The days leading up to this moment have been interesting, to say the least.
For one, I was experiencing a bit of a relapse in my brooding over my previous relationship. Old news really, which made me all the more frustrated at myself, yet it happened. Maybe it's the imminent return to the place where the breakup happened. Whether I like it or not, I guess my mind has associated that episode to the place. Maybe it's the recent social media hints of my ex moving on to someone else. Trivial really, yet I seem to be affected. I guess if there's anything I should take away from this recent experience, it's that I have much work left in processing this grief. But I am hopeful of moving on, that's for sure.
For another, the people I have been meeting the past few days, both new and familiar, have been an immense blessing during this season of my life. Perhaps it is through His good timing that I got to experience the interactions I have been having the past few days,and as it turns out they were precisely what I needed to move through the relapse.
San Jose was kind to me, my cousin's friends played host to the two of us and were immensely generous with their time and resources, and that did quite a bit to take my mind off things. Yet Los Angeles was kinder still, in spite of her rough edges, where I got to meet with two friends I knew from ICOM, of whom I've not chatted with in years. Indeed this reunion was refreshing and meaningful; the conversations about life, love, grief, and hope were what I needed but didn't know I need. And friends that I thought I may have lost through time, turned out to feel like we were never parted to begin with.
I guess ultimately, I just wanted to pen down this strange, yet rather optimistic hope that I have moving forward, as I prepare to return home, what come may. Here's to a brighter future, in spite of my doubts.
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