Saturday, April 12, 2014

My X.

Am I lost? I look at my map to see where I was going.

I have a locket that I hold on to. It's nothing special, I got it for like $10s in Singapore. But it's mostly always been on me and I feel uneasy if I ever forget to take it when my day starts.


Other than the fact that I find the meaning cool, it's got no emotional value attached to it. It wasn't given to me by a special someone, I didn't plan on getting it or anything nor did I win it. It's just a normal piece of metal that's starting to rust now.

But it's still easier to hold onto that than people.

I grew up playing games. Where I am today, has a lot to do with the gamer in me. But looking back, maybe I took it a little too seriously?

All the phases in life, for me, were just that. Phases. Levels. You go through one, overcome obstacles and you move onto a bigger more difficult level. But you don't go back.

You don't go back, you don't look back and you don't interact with the characters from the previous level. You don't have time to think about the hundreds of people you see everyday. They don't directly affect your game. So you ignore them.

And it gets a lot easier when you realize they ignore you for the same reason. Enter, sonder.

Sonder (n) (source)
the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own—populated with their own ambitions, friends, routines, worries and inherited craziness—an epic story that continues invisibly around you like an anthill sprawling deep underground, with elaborate passageways to thousands of other lives that you’ll never know existed, in which you might appear only once, as an extra sipping coffee in the background, as a blur of traffic passing on the highway, as a lighted window at dusk.

I dream about a lot of things. I've been looking up for a long time now, staring at the stars. But I want to stop doing that. I want to stop relying on something that's millions of light years away to tell me that I'm normal and that everything's alright. It's ironic how it's the exact opposite of normal.

But it's still easier to talk to them than people.

You grow up realizing how embarrassingly idiotic you were the year before. A lot of people lose themselves while trying to fit in. And when things don't work out, they blame the world for it. That's like the microwave pretending to be a freezer, getting depressed when it couldn't make ice.

One awesome thing about being socially awkward is that you get to observe people. You're not in the spotlight and you get to observe the one who is. You learn a lot. That actually helps you in weird little ways.

I still don't know where I'm going though. There's no 'X' on my map.

The system is fucked. There's no denying that. I don't know about others but being backed up politically and standing up to change the nation after being involved with slaughtering people in the past, doesn't really sound right to me. Probably why I don't want to be a part of it. I haven't figured even out my design, my destination. Participating in a mass-vote to change a country is a whole different story.

I remember when I was in school, we studied the digestive system. It was fascinating to see the journey. Every organ along the way, playing it's part. The whole system breaking down, if even one of them failed. Then there's the pancreas. But I still don't know what exactly it does. I know it's something important but don't remember what. Maybe it's because we were told it's not a part of our syllabus. That's actually a little retarded if you think about it.

The system's fucked.

Funny thing about motion sickness. You won't get it if you're the one driving. So I'm getting off this bus now. I'll find my own ride. I've got a map.

Like my locket, I didn't plan for it to happen. It just did. She pulled up on the side of the road. I got in.

We talked. And drove. For days. Then months. I didn't get sick anymore.

Then I thought about it. I dreamed about looking up at the stars together. It seemed a lot easier. She talks to them as well, so how hard can it be?

Further down the road, it got bumpy. I started to feel sick again. That's when she stopped the car. And I realized the uncool in me, shined brighter than ever.

But then it happened. She walked around the car towards me, opened the passenger door and pushed me to the driver's seat. She sat in the place I was sitting before.

"Drive", she said. And I did.

Where was I headed? I didn't know. I still haven't figured out my map. Am I driving towards a dead end?

I hate waking up early mornings. I love early mornings but I hate waking up for them. I wish there was a way to skip this. Like I'm sleeping and the next thing I know, I'm on a cliff in a cool breeze, watching the sunrise. If only.

I've been remembering a lot of old levels that I played through in the past. I kicked ass and it was awesome so I have no reason to be sad about it. But I am. This wish I have of wanting to replay them is a bit..alien.

The game's getting difficult. But it is what it is. Feels like a century has gone by and I'm just..stuck.

I grew up playing games. But I'm starting to hate it.

And that's when it hit me. Of course.

I woke up. It was early. Early enough to embarrass my alarm clock. The stars were still out. I run to the balcony. But, I don't look up. I look down. She was there, sitting in her car, engines revving, smiling at me.

Funny thing about growing up. You hate what you were a year ago and you're scared and unsure about what you've become now.

But all that doesn't matter when you've finally found your place.

I ran down, pushed her over to the passenger seat and got behind the wheels. No seatbelts.

Forever lying on the dashboard, was a dusty old lighter. It finally had a reason to exist. I made it the most significant lighter in the history of ever and used it to burn my map.

And then I placed my hand on her chest and drew an 'X' on her heart.

And it made perfect sense.

"Drive", she said, still smiling.
I was happy to.

2 comments:

  1. i don have anything to say today..its just osam to read something like that

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  2. Ah,letting go of the levels before. You say you have mastered the art. I admire you for that. I always thought I did. But now I realize I've never had much to hold on as baggage and when I did and I thought I letgo,wellll I am trying.

    Good read too.

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