Saturday, November 22, 2014

3:42 PM

November's been depressing.

I know people usually go through the excitement stage first before they feel sad about leaving everything behind, but everything's been on plateau mode for me, before it all went downhill from there.

Don't get me wrong - God has been faithful, helping me get past my visa interview and keeping things together in the family. I just don't always feel okay. Well, most of the time I don't.

I think I've always been pretty responsible as a person. I'm not one to run away from home, because I feel a strong attachment and obligation to my family members to not one day just go missing and escape from the harsh reality of life. I've always lived by their principles - to always plan, not make decisions in the spur of the moment and do the right thing. To be obedient, to stay put and be accountable for everything. I think it's most likely a result of being the oldest - I need to be the example to my younger sister, the only sibling I have and honor my parents.

But today I feel like just taking a train and going somewhere. Just somewhere. Anywhere. Maybe KL. I don't need to plan to go to KL, I just need to go. Walk through the streets and breathe in the exhaust fumes. Absorb the sounds of motor vehicles and watch people do what they do. Take in everything there is to take, in the city. It's simple enough, just go somewhere and stay there for a bit. Alone and conscious of what I'm doing and where I'm at.

I'd stare at the gap between the platform and wonder how it'd be like to jump onto the tracks. I'd sit down and watch the people walk by; try and come up with stories about their life. Jump onto every assumption I can grasp within my mind, and make something out of it. Not to be spiteful or anything, but just for the sake of storytelling. I'd hop into the LRT and travel all the way to the last station and get off. I'd explore whatever that was there. The station. The streets. The housing area. The food vendors. The nearest 7-Eleven. The smallest and most ridiculous of things.

Even toilets. I'd check out their toilets.

I'd walk around. Breathe in the polluted air and clear my throat. Take pictures with the DSLR I've had since I was fifteen. Watch out for creeps on the street. Whatever. Then I'd drink some water, hop back on to the LRT and head back. Then drive home and keep all these things to myself, as if I'd just done something extremely normal and commendable as a person.

I'd do all that if I were brave enough. I would.

But I'm not really all that brave. And I'm alone.

I quit my job this week. I really liked working there. Today I took a turn to where the shop was, on the way home. I saw my bro Dave walk out, and then walk back in. I felt sad. I wanted to park my car and go in, but I know I couldn't. I would've gone in and cried. I miss working there. When I worked there I felt invincible. I felt like I belonged there, like my destiny was to be a barista. I still think I could've worked there all my life. I was fast, I was efficient. And I just learned how to make good latte art. I would've been a top barista if I'd worked longer. But I quit. I had to quit.

I got my visa this week too. I got lost on the way to pick it up, but I managed to collect it. And I looked at my visa. I took one hard look at it. I'm going to the U.S. I am going to the U.S. Wow. It didn't strike me, but I repeated it again to myself. I'm going to the U.S. And I'll be there on my own for the next two years. Cool.

I've been avoiding some people too. I'm scared I'll be forced to like people I don't want to like, so I stray away from them. I don't want them to see who I really am. I don't want them to know me, and then like me for what they think I am. I don't want to be obliged to choose the people society says I deserve. I don't want to be judged for disliking someone because of their looks. I don't like it. I don't like being told what to do. But I also need to let go. This is tough. This is confusing. I think I'll be single for the rest of my life, but surprisingly I'm okay with that. People will get married and I will feel left out, but I'll be okay. I know I will, because God has been faithful. Why do I care what others think about me wanting to live life alone? Maybe I'll find someone when I'm 50 and we'll love each other in a retirement home.

I wish I could talk things out with people, but I want them to know I'll make it. I'm a little emo now but I can go on with life. I don't need anyone to tell me I can't do it, because I don't need to hear that now. I want to believe God will help me get through life, and as tough as it is, I will get through it.

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