I have not posted anything since that little adventure with the brakes because for one, I went home over the weekend and there are actually loads of more exciting things to be done when you're at home, including cooking (XD). For two, there wasn't much exciting events worthy enough to be published here (what a contradiction!) unless you want to read about how I suck at playing 'So Close' even with the scores, or how I rolled on the bed in pain.
Which, I reckon none of you have got the interest in.
Wasn't in much blogging mood today actually, but somehow what Eza said in today's episode of the newest home-made Melayu campur England series 'Ghost' struck me pretty hard. It's as if like, she just revealed to me what truly took place. I just couldn't believe local scripwriters are so good at mind-reading me.
... And there are days when I don't even think of him, and those are the calmest days of all.
Yea all along I thought I was but a fake who showed everybody everything but the truth - what I really think, how I really feel. And after some time I thought I was so good at it that I got deceived by myself, for I actually believed I was OKAY and happy and everything else I made people believe. Truthfully speaking, I still thought it mattered, and somehow somewhere I still couldn't let go and blahblah... That I'm the puppet of his past, my past, our pasts, that mere memories can change the way I feel...
Until Eza spoke. And I realized how nothing else can be as true as that.
There were days when I woke up to snippets of our pasts, and got drifted away. There were days when I saw flashes of him before me, and my vision got blurred for unknown reasons. Yet, now when I come to think of it,
there were days when I did not think of him, and those days came by as the calmest days of all.For all these while I thought I am, have been, or always am, a fake, or a hypocrite. That I thought I was deceiving the whole wide world for being someone I thought I wasn't. Little have I known, that in the process of this perceived-deception I have grown and matured. Silently, unknowingly, secretively. That in the process, what used to matter, doesn't matter anymore.
A sigh of relief at the dawning of this truth. I have freed myself. I am no longer a prisoner, caged in that dark dungeon called past. That I have finally realized, I learnt how to live for myself once more. My days of liberation have arrived.
For unknown reasons, the tears of relief comes from somewhere deep within. Yes, I am glad, I am happy, I've found joy. But there's something more to being glad, being happy, and joy. Something, intangible, yet the gist of everything. The realization that I have really, truly, put my past behind.
That calls another celebration.
Goodbye, my past. For you are now but a mere shadow. I am your master, and you will puppet me no more. 'Tis the taste of liberation.
...And there are days when I don't even think of him, and those are the calmest days of all.