 |
| Federation Square, Melbourne. Perfect replica of my facial expressions in the city. |
I suppose, for a person planning to postpone her sleep to the 8-hour flight back home after a year abroad, by blogging, the customary post would revolve around the life she is about to leave behind.
Kind of an 'I'm coming home, tell everyone I'm coming home' kind of post. But let's adopt some sort of a pretense that I am actually deeper than I am, and have it the other way round. I'm sparing myself of the eventual reflections that I am to have of my stay here.
A big part of this is because the flight does not feel like goodbye. It feels like another escape from a tiring run, instead of the beautiful finish at the endpoint. There I am, drifting from one apathy to another, frustrated in being the person I have become. Or rather, the person I always was, but have only recently began to understand.
For no apparent reason whatsoever, I was stripped of all optimism. Life felt like a TV drama that was once worth watching, dragged forward to the point where it ceases to be what it was, tiring even. I have an exam? So be it. I have commitments? So be it. I'm a horrible person? So be it. I'm a lucky person? So be it. And now, I've got to go home? So be it?
So there I was, trying to squeeze out some sort of meaning I could not find. I could not help but wonder where I went wrong. When did I consent to shedding an important part of me, that once made life such a wonder to live in? Without me noticing, life has become such a drab affair, and I became a tiresome another.
*sigh* Malaysia, be kind to me.
No comments:
Post a Comment