I talk to God but the sky is empty...

I lie awake in the middle of the night. A caricature of your face looms in my mind. What do I feel – how and whence did this happen? You were (are?) a companion. A (not-so) cherished compatriot. An intellectual mind fuck. Someone (something?) Were (are?) you an ideal? Have I always wanted to be as blunt, forthright, in-your-face a you? Were (are?) you the side of me I have kept hidden so far - the one I secretly despise?

Maybe you exist for the sole purpose of making me feel better about myself. For making me realise that however fucked up my life seems to be – it cannot and will not reach the level of demented drama yours propagates. Maybe you exist – so that I can give thanks for what I have – for my sanity – the practicality that suffuses my decisions and paths… for the lack of unreasonable hatred you seem to nurture oh-so-adamantly. Maybe you exist for all the amusement I derive from the fact that a thirty year old Singaporean has no idea how to get to HV – and no idea how it looks like either.

It amuses me how you have a need to mystify every inane activity in your life… while trying to poke your nose into my affairs. Maybe you exist to test my patience. We have come a long way together. It was been what, 16 – 17 years? We, both of us have changed. Me, more so than you? You are content in your routine. You are happy to be stuck in your rut. I am not.

More, I need more. Ordinariness does not suffice. I caught the travelling bug early. My independent spirit has been dampened at times, but has never been quenched. Which may be why I despair of your insular attitude? I do not know. I only know this. My fuse keeps getting shorter. My tolerance level has dipped tremendously. I am afraid I am going to blow… and it isn’t going to be pretty.

Stay away. Let me breathe. Do not regale me with your inane mutterings.
PLEASE.

Labels: friends, hibernation, me, tolerance