The breather of the day
Time is plugged with both work and distractions. The day ends with mom and I chatting for an hour or so. That's "my" life now, work work work, and a "moment" with mom (when she's not traveling overseas for work) which she does or will be doing quite often. I don't know if it's good for her at this age, but then, what do we know about what's good for us and what's not. I guess it happens for a reason; for me to learn something from it. I have so much time to comfortably step out of my soul, and dive inside hers. To watch my mother live her nights a certain way, to feel what she must feel, and see what she sees. At such an age, losing the man she loved to a woman he doesn't love, losing a son, the youngest who was at the peak of his life, and a daughter who appears to be misguided or detached from family for years; also known as the delusional escapist. Ignorance is a bliss, but I've never been ignorant to my surroundings. It's just sometimes, you get tired of running, escaping, you suddenly take a breather, a break, a moment for yourself, and how astounding it can be, to pay attention to the voices in your head.
I wonder how she feels and what goes through her mind when she's alone. She's in one of her last phases of life, at 60+, and how it sums up is what breaks my heart. She goes to a bed solo, nobody to share it with. A morning that she has no one to wake up next to. A day that's just filled with work, and a daughter who doesn't seem to be seeking much from life (or at least the things she would be hoping I seek for, like marriage or kids or both). I just feel Life is so damn short, much shorter than I thought to think about all these things. One must just hold up as much as they can for as long as they can. Eventually, we will meet elsewhere, a better place, I hope. It was hell for my mother, it was hell for my baby brother, and I hope this is my hell too.
I don't know what's going on with me. My mind is always on a race of it's own. It's like liquid. It takes every form, passes through any and every void. It fill spaces, and looks for spaces. It freezes, it evaporates. It's like a slow chemical reaction, all internalized. Unknown diagnosis. It's everywhere, sometimes it scares me at how fast it travels, and how it makes it to every dark corner that I'm trying to run away from. My mind simply doesn't fail me in that department, to take me everywhere, to places I sometimes want a break from. Back to my insomniac days, with increased exhaustion and mental blocks during the day. God is great though, somehow, I "just" make it through the days or the hours when I interact with others, and thankfully, these mental/emotional scars are invisible to the people around me, and almost to myself too when I'm surrounded with distractions. But still, with these distractions, I feel my life is troubled with dry topics and subjects that do not interest me at any level; not even for a brainless moment. I'm constantly missing to be by myself. Is that bad? the crave to be alone? to be alone for as long as possible, without a time limit? without a guilt-trip? without a reminder that I need company when I don't want it? I mean, people around us tell us we're not alone, but come on, we really are alone, just the way we came landed here on earth all alone. We are not attached - we don't choose our times. We don't have many choices. We can only embrace what we have, miss what we had, and somehow look forward for better times.
I wonder how she feels and what goes through her mind when she's alone. She's in one of her last phases of life, at 60+, and how it sums up is what breaks my heart. She goes to a bed solo, nobody to share it with. A morning that she has no one to wake up next to. A day that's just filled with work, and a daughter who doesn't seem to be seeking much from life (or at least the things she would be hoping I seek for, like marriage or kids or both). I just feel Life is so damn short, much shorter than I thought to think about all these things. One must just hold up as much as they can for as long as they can. Eventually, we will meet elsewhere, a better place, I hope. It was hell for my mother, it was hell for my baby brother, and I hope this is my hell too.
I don't know what's going on with me. My mind is always on a race of it's own. It's like liquid. It takes every form, passes through any and every void. It fill spaces, and looks for spaces. It freezes, it evaporates. It's like a slow chemical reaction, all internalized. Unknown diagnosis. It's everywhere, sometimes it scares me at how fast it travels, and how it makes it to every dark corner that I'm trying to run away from. My mind simply doesn't fail me in that department, to take me everywhere, to places I sometimes want a break from. Back to my insomniac days, with increased exhaustion and mental blocks during the day. God is great though, somehow, I "just" make it through the days or the hours when I interact with others, and thankfully, these mental/emotional scars are invisible to the people around me, and almost to myself too when I'm surrounded with distractions. But still, with these distractions, I feel my life is troubled with dry topics and subjects that do not interest me at any level; not even for a brainless moment. I'm constantly missing to be by myself. Is that bad? the crave to be alone? to be alone for as long as possible, without a time limit? without a guilt-trip? without a reminder that I need company when I don't want it? I mean, people around us tell us we're not alone, but come on, we really are alone, just the way we came landed here on earth all alone. We are not attached - we don't choose our times. We don't have many choices. We can only embrace what we have, miss what we had, and somehow look forward for better times.
posted by Color at 11:15 AM
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