Wednesday, July 02, 2008
Neurosis
My mood swings from one end to another. As we all know.
There are days where I think I might just able to take a knife to stab at my own heart to stop the gripping palpitations. The accuteness is most felt when I feel betrayed- be it by words or actions.
****
There was an injury committed to me not too long ago in 2007 that never served to harshly remind me of my bad judgment. Maybe call it emotional stupidity.
It was a painful memory that I would rather forget but I never quite dare to because I want it to serve as a good tight slap for any stupid actions that I could potentially commit going forward. It's a strange conundrum. I try to shove it at the far end of my mind but not so faraway that I could obliterate this experience from my memory bank.
****
I had to cut my losses then.
For that last ounce of pride's sake.
Now I have a choice.
****
Funny how, an hour or so ago, my mind was at peace.
Well, I did feel trepidation about returning home in less than 48 hours- simply because I haven't lived at home for a long time.
****
I guess one should be thankful to be born with an uncanny intuition.
Those messages or cautionary voices that comes into you head or the flashes of dreams you get as a child to forebode an impending incident about to unfold.
Heaven knows why that word came to my attention.
And voila, I found what that image led me to. I wasn't even looking to find anything.
I mean for heaven's sake, it's past one in the morning and I just got back from yet another night of singing at the Karaoke with Daisy.
I was brain dead.
Now my heart is stirred.
****
As I sat on the ferry for the first time today to get to the north side of town(ironically all my years living in Sydney, I have never quite taken a ferry until now when I am about to leave this city pretty much for good), the inspiration came to my mind.
I meant to work on a piece, “Seasonal Cues”.
I wanted to write about the usual anticipation or indication of my emotional state from the seasonal cues I would normally get upon returning home. January/December has always been the typical time of the year where the merry mood of festivities would spill over to my personal emotional situation. I normally get a new beau or two and some romance. Such happy days! I would fall for one and then comes March when I returned home, I get my heart broken. Badly.
By May, I become so poorly. I recuperate and comes the end of the year, the cycle begins again.
Thus going home in July is a relatively new experience. I have no preceding experience to guide me. I am so being ditched and single at this juncture, I don't know what to expect, really. My heart hasn't been mended so I have no freaking idea what to expect, except a sense of feeling quite lost.
Up to an hour or so ago.
****
No need to look for cues now.
I got the answer.
Thanks to my sixth sense.
I know I should always heed that instinctive voice in my head, a constant companion she was through my mortal existence, guiding me and fending off my rational mind that had time and again failed me. Why did I always try to fight her?
What can I say?
Timely.
Ok, I get it this time alright.
My mood swings from one end to another. As we all know.
There are days where I think I might just able to take a knife to stab at my own heart to stop the gripping palpitations. The accuteness is most felt when I feel betrayed- be it by words or actions.
****
There was an injury committed to me not too long ago in 2007 that never served to harshly remind me of my bad judgment. Maybe call it emotional stupidity.
It was a painful memory that I would rather forget but I never quite dare to because I want it to serve as a good tight slap for any stupid actions that I could potentially commit going forward. It's a strange conundrum. I try to shove it at the far end of my mind but not so faraway that I could obliterate this experience from my memory bank.
****
I had to cut my losses then.
For that last ounce of pride's sake.
Now I have a choice.
****
Funny how, an hour or so ago, my mind was at peace.
Well, I did feel trepidation about returning home in less than 48 hours- simply because I haven't lived at home for a long time.
****
I guess one should be thankful to be born with an uncanny intuition.
Those messages or cautionary voices that comes into you head or the flashes of dreams you get as a child to forebode an impending incident about to unfold.
Heaven knows why that word came to my attention.
And voila, I found what that image led me to. I wasn't even looking to find anything.
I mean for heaven's sake, it's past one in the morning and I just got back from yet another night of singing at the Karaoke with Daisy.
I was brain dead.
Now my heart is stirred.
****
As I sat on the ferry for the first time today to get to the north side of town(ironically all my years living in Sydney, I have never quite taken a ferry until now when I am about to leave this city pretty much for good), the inspiration came to my mind.
I meant to work on a piece, “Seasonal Cues”.
I wanted to write about the usual anticipation or indication of my emotional state from the seasonal cues I would normally get upon returning home. January/December has always been the typical time of the year where the merry mood of festivities would spill over to my personal emotional situation. I normally get a new beau or two and some romance. Such happy days! I would fall for one and then comes March when I returned home, I get my heart broken. Badly.
By May, I become so poorly. I recuperate and comes the end of the year, the cycle begins again.
Thus going home in July is a relatively new experience. I have no preceding experience to guide me. I am so being ditched and single at this juncture, I don't know what to expect, really. My heart hasn't been mended so I have no freaking idea what to expect, except a sense of feeling quite lost.
Up to an hour or so ago.
****
No need to look for cues now.
I got the answer.
Thanks to my sixth sense.
I know I should always heed that instinctive voice in my head, a constant companion she was through my mortal existence, guiding me and fending off my rational mind that had time and again failed me. Why did I always try to fight her?
What can I say?
Timely.
Ok, I get it this time alright.
