Last day of September

September has been great. Because I got to hear the things my heart’s been needing to hear. I got to get the stuff I need, my necessities. For the mind, for the body, and for the soul.

I learned a lot from people around me, and this time I listened to what they had to say about me. I wanted change, and I was served a bowl of criticism, one that I slowly savoured for the soup of words and the ingredients in every sentence were spicy. And hot. I needed this. I needed this badly. If only these people knew how much it’s helped me recover from my sickness, they’d be glad they served me this food in the first place. It was nice. A delightful experience.

Tomorrow marks the one year anniversary, and I need deep thoughts and contemplation of how time flies and what I’ve done to improve myself. It’s all about improvement. It’s all about learning to recover.

 

I’m learning, I’m slowly learning.

 

Today will be a good day, Allah Willing.

September

September has numbed me in a good way, a way that’s enabled me to realise my humanness, the part of me I never knew. I guess I’d built my defence too high, so high that I didn’t let anybody into my life. For a while that was what I needed, I needed isolation but I stayed in my fortress for too long that I disconnected with the world.

And then I met people who tell it as it is. They don’t care about how you feel, they just want you to know that nobody cares how you feel, that the world isn’t conspiring against you, that you are actually inflicting pain against yourself. I’ve been needing these kind of people, be it real life or in books. And they gave me the medicine I needed all this while, the bitter truth that I despised swallowing.

Back to episode 1

I remember writing my first post here. It was four years ago, and it was around the time of Chingay, the annual festival of celebrating the range of cultures in Singapore. It so happened that the parade was passing through my neighbourhood, and I remember taking a snapshot of a passing vehicle, thereafter writing a post with the photo as the image header. But I’ve deleted all my posts. In fact I deleted my wordpress and that was my biggest regret.

Times have changed but the feeling and the need to explore Singapore now is stronger. I’ve become more purpose driven in my travels and explorations. I realised, the worst thing one can do when travelling or exploring is to wander around aimlessly. This idea doesn’t appeal to me anymore, because I have learnt to appreciate the importance of time in one’s life. One simply does not waste time.

But we all do. We waste our time, every single second of our lives. We are nonchalant, oblivious as to where, why and how we spend our time.

That being said, I have a question: How do we honour one’s life here on Earth?

With all the time we have, it’s good to consider such a question and ponder upon it once in a while.

Baby steps though.

 

Feelings of gratitude.

Feelings of gratitude should be an exercise for the emotions. I come back here because I feel the need to kick back my writing journey again. What has happened for the past few months have made me realise how the moments must be captured, and I capture the moments best when I observe and read the environments around me. I’ve always been naive as to my abilities, and this must have been said a million times, but I guess the day came when everything came to a halt; the pressure just took me away into the skies. The incident three weeks back made me numb and I felt as though I was floating. Floating I was, but in a good way. 

There is a sense of happiness that I cannot describe, and this feeling can only be felt through gratitude, a feeling that I am learning to inject into my life. I am feeling feelings of gratitude these days and I cannot be anymore thankful than to be given such wonderful privileges that many have but don’t fully appreciate and utilise.

I am twenty three and I feel old. But someone said that it is okay that I am twenty three now and not sixteen. It is true. I guess it is better to grow old and bold then to stay forever sixteen and not grow. My only regret now is the fact that I deleted my old stories, for with it I might have embraced what I was like back then, but the pressures of life led me to be in depression, as how I had diagnosed it. Of course it might not have been depression, but the signs were there, and it affected me badly. I am in good shape now, at least I hope. I am beginning to run again, and that’s the most important part that I’ve been trying to get back into my life. Without stamina, I was dented in all aspects. But prayer helped me a lot, and the search for the meaning of life led me to hiatus in writing. Well it’s not that I stopped writing entirely, I did and I still do write in my journals, writing down how I feel and why I feel that way. It is important to know why and how you feel and the factors that make you feel that way. Right now, well right now I’m typing again in thankfulness for being able to start again on this journey. I have a lot of stories to tell, a lot of journeys to discover, and most importantly, a lot of lessons to impart.

 

Feelings of gratitude, and I am thankful I can write again.