Faux Self-Made Reality
Last weekend, I went to my hometown for a simple, weekend getaway. My purpose there was to attend my close friend's graduation ceremony; a fully packed fiasco that could not have been any hotter if it was held 5 meters away from the Sun. The overall situation did not make me cheerful, not in the slightest, although I felt a lot better once I met my friend. That whole Saturday I spent with my friends from college, reminiscing about the time long past and just simply cooling off from the hectic week that we had, especially considering that the night before I just got back home from a business trip. However, it was not until Sunday that I started collecting my thoughts after a few months of not being able to think about anything other than work.
On that particular Sunday, I did not sleep in. I woke up earlier than usual—much earlier than I liked and the length of my sleep was not as long as I needed. It was too short for a restful sleep, and it was not enough for me to catch up from the sleepless nights that I had few days prior. But, since I already had made plans with the aforementioned friend for a simple Sunday brunch, I could not afford any more sleeping in and lazing around the house; though I was almost tempted to just invite her over for a breakfast that I could simply make and just enjoy the impossibly expensive sound of quietness. I also knew, however, that both me and my friend needed a small stretch of secluded time and space for us to just share whatever it was that ran into our head and smashed the heck out of our consciousness. We needed whatever it was that had us draining every single thought that we each had about how we deal with reality and what we have to face every day.
We also talked about our dreams. And what we would have done if we had romantic love, the one that went away from us. What we could have and would have done if that kind of love even graced its presence in our lives. We talked about how simple it was to talk with someone that is not from our country, how it was easier to share our triumphs and trials with someone from foreign countries, and how they are less judgmental. It is the kind of conversation that made me mull over the choices that I've made in my life so far, especially concerning my professional endeavour.
There had always been doubts, since the beginning. Some people might not know but I have always wanted to be something else—something more—but since there were only limited options, I had to settle for this one since it offered me something so much better than the other options I had. There was some circumstance which seemingly sounded perfect for me—if I were to settle down in this country. But I had always wanted more, anything felt better than anyone could propose to me. To be completely honest, I've never been fond of the idea of waking up and realising that I had to settle down with anyone and anything. There had always been a life, somewhere out there, that was meant for me; a place that I should have gone home to with a special kind of scent that always cling on my attires, reminding people that I exist in my own terms and my own accounts.
What saddened us the most was the fact that not everyone could accept that. Not everyone could and would understand the infinite emptiness which loneliness enclosed you in and locked you up inside your head because your surrounding's incapability of accepting and recognising your thoughts and emotions. People would just reason that your inability to fully connect with your surrounding because you got arrogance, ego, and pride. The trifecta that sounded bad on everyone's lips no matter how they say it. We were alienated by what they perceive in us, we were distanced because they saw what we wanted was absurd, and we were foolish for wanting it. And it was true, what we wanted were not available, due to its prior commitment and distance; they are still unavailable as I write this.
That Saturday reminded me again why I wanted to leave. Why the whole absurdity of routines and halfhearted acceptance of faux self-made reality had made me forgotten what I should be living for. And I aim for something more, something different, something that will adapt to me as I am to them. I seek for solace, for peace, and for restful sleep; wherever it is.
On that particular Sunday, I did not sleep in. I woke up earlier than usual—much earlier than I liked and the length of my sleep was not as long as I needed. It was too short for a restful sleep, and it was not enough for me to catch up from the sleepless nights that I had few days prior. But, since I already had made plans with the aforementioned friend for a simple Sunday brunch, I could not afford any more sleeping in and lazing around the house; though I was almost tempted to just invite her over for a breakfast that I could simply make and just enjoy the impossibly expensive sound of quietness. I also knew, however, that both me and my friend needed a small stretch of secluded time and space for us to just share whatever it was that ran into our head and smashed the heck out of our consciousness. We needed whatever it was that had us draining every single thought that we each had about how we deal with reality and what we have to face every day.
We also talked about our dreams. And what we would have done if we had romantic love, the one that went away from us. What we could have and would have done if that kind of love even graced its presence in our lives. We talked about how simple it was to talk with someone that is not from our country, how it was easier to share our triumphs and trials with someone from foreign countries, and how they are less judgmental. It is the kind of conversation that made me mull over the choices that I've made in my life so far, especially concerning my professional endeavour.
What saddened us the most was the fact that not everyone could accept that. Not everyone could and would understand the infinite emptiness which loneliness enclosed you in and locked you up inside your head because your surrounding's incapability of accepting and recognising your thoughts and emotions. People would just reason that your inability to fully connect with your surrounding because you got arrogance, ego, and pride. The trifecta that sounded bad on everyone's lips no matter how they say it. We were alienated by what they perceive in us, we were distanced because they saw what we wanted was absurd, and we were foolish for wanting it. And it was true, what we wanted were not available, due to its prior commitment and distance; they are still unavailable as I write this.
That Saturday reminded me again why I wanted to leave. Why the whole absurdity of routines and halfhearted acceptance of faux self-made reality had made me forgotten what I should be living for. And I aim for something more, something different, something that will adapt to me as I am to them. I seek for solace, for peace, and for restful sleep; wherever it is.