An evening confession (lubang di hati);
Ah the perils of growing up.
I don’t know if you sense it in me – then, now, later, or perhaps always have – or if I am only imagining it; but I…
I feel too different from who I was, yet I’m acutely aware of the expectations upon me – the chains that bind, no matter how I try to deny. Culturally, religiously, lawfully. Can I deny? And what does that mean if I do? Is it possible to be defined by nothing?
Because this end of the world and that end of the world are literally half the globe apart, everything that takes place in one side when I’m on the other – both here and there – feel so much like a dream; as if nothing ever took place and happened, as if I can stay rooted in spirit, but not in physique.
As if I can and will always be away. As if history is nothing else but the present.
To be honest, I really don’t feel like treading my way back just yet – but herein lies the paradox; going against all my initial principles and promises. Then there’s also the honest truth that I’m afraid of the things and people I will continually lose as I attempt to build a life that is wholly mine and mine alone, wherever that may be but mostly, not where I’m expected to be.
Almost 21 – 9 years to 30 -, 1.5 years to graduating university; I’m not a kid anymore.
Won’t lie, Real Life feels starkly too close for comfort it’s currently plaguing me plenty.
.
