I am happier than I was this time last year and less consumed than I was a month ago. I’ve been giving too much thought to things than I would have 5 years back. I’m feeling fuller than I was yesterday at lunch. Tonight I will be less guilty and angry than I was last night. Tomorrow will be worse than the day after. The day after would be no more better than yesterday. I imagine 5 years from now, I would be saying the same but feeling indifferent. This would have been me about 2 weeks ago.
Now I’m thinking, yesterday is just an echo of today and tomorrow regurgitates and if she sticks around long enough, the old would once again be new and it might still be the same but better. Much better.
It’s weird looking at dates inscribed on your diary. Dates which you have planned so much for. Now just a reminder of the could haves that persists to remain inculcated on your mind . Flipping through the brown planner dad bought me from Boarders, I remember contemplating on the significance of documenting dates ahead and tossing up between the pros and cons of marking days which might not transpire. Dating birthdays with the intention of wishing but eventually getting lost in the pages along the way of random notes, chores, and grocery lists. Anniversaries; so much can change in a brief moment in time. I question the mortality of hopes and dreams. That in achieving, might rob me of greater achievements and precious moments and experiences. Suddenly the “could haves” doesn’t hurt as much as the “what ifs”. I don’t regret what I have done in the past. My biggest regret would be to have not taken a chance to regret at all. Least I know, I tried.
Nothing more than another used planner stashed away within a year, to be picked up and read back reliving moments had and gone. Never been one to be able to remember without collecting, keeping, writing down…capturing moments I’m afraid I’ll forget. My mind is like a fading polaroid – colors fade, lines blurred, merged…paper rotting. My life is a series of birthday cards, scrapbooks, strewn lose pieces of paper, emotional band-aids, notes, postcards, recipes, gum wrappers, ticket stubs, boarding passes, novelty wrist bands…anything and everything really. Some call it trash. I call them bookmarks. A momentary cessation in my life.
If I had to pick one single item as a book mark for 2006, it would be the Edifier speaker Audrey bought for me for my birthday early January. It has since traveled with me around the world. It entertained me at the transit smokers lounge in Singapore’s airport, in the forest at Serendah, on the beach in Sipidan, in quaint lanes of Spain, on the bus ride from Fez to Marakesh in Morocco, hotel rooms, at the city parks in Melbourne, at home during dinner parties, wine nights on my balcony in KL…I’m surprised it still sings to me with the same vivacity.
I’m wondering this year (in my blatant disregard to the consequences of hoping), what will bookmark this journey I’m on. Anyhow, I must still grope and wonder and this morning I had a gleam of light. Indeed, I think from the ease that comes with what I secretly hope will eventuate, there must be a path for me there.
In the words of Virginia Wolf ” I am perfectly serious in saying that nothing budges me from my determination to go on, or alters my pleasure; so whatever happens, though the surface may be agitated, the centre is secure.”