Thursday, January 27, 2005

sigh II

So I cry a hearty cry as the rain residue drips off the tiles of my roof onto the puddle below. I hear it patter softly as tears flow down my cheek and my chest heaves with such pain that it chokes me even just to breathe. For I am alone and the weight of the world burdens my aching shoulders. I’ve always wished for someone to be my companion through this journey. I would be his rock as he would be mine. But there is no one. Which makes me venture on bravely, singular and alone, fighting battle after battle, never losing but most of all never winning. It is difficult to be a woman in this era. We have to be independent yet dependent, strong yet weak, secure yet insecure, beautiful yet plain. The society demands of us to be a cocktail of Heidi Klum, Martha Stewart, Margaret Thatcher, Princess Diana, Mother Teresa and a Moulin Rouge girl all in one flesh of a person. We must be able to nurture, care, pamper, seduce, protect and war when situation beckons. It’s having to be a man but in the end still remain very much a woman. Very tricky. Very very tricky.

People always told me that life just gets more painful the older we grow. I wonder now why I ever wanted to become an adult. For all the times I wish I had freedom so that the streets could become my playground, now I just want someone to make me stay home. For all the times I longed to feel desolation and all those writhing emotions I watch and hear the grown-ups rant about, now I wish I’d never taste the forbidden fruit at all. We are surrounded by so much despair that I feel so sorrowful for us mankind. I look around me and all I see are the masks of smiles camouflaging the hurt, anger and bitterness inside. We never speak of such taboo though, oh no, but we will wake up to a ringing alarm clock every morning, turn ourselves in at lectures or work places, munch through our designated lunch gossips, speak of the weather like it’s the meteor and offer friendly banter. But we will not even utter a word of our sadness. Hush, adults just do not do such deeds. I never thought a person could feel such melancholy. I didn’t think it was possible. I figured they just never made effort to please themselves. I know now that they are just lost. They are just trying to find their way back home. And it is frustrating because it is exhausting. I know this because I am tired. And it is not that I have not tried because I have. I tried. And nothing. And the hurt just keeps growing and growing like a metastatic tumor as if you’re wrestling to hold your soul down as it struggles to break free. I thought growing up would offer me the answers to life’s questions. But as time goes by, I realize that all I ever do is get more and more confused. There are no answers but more questions. There is a weight on my shoulders which feels like the weight of the world. And I am struggling to keep my responsibilities propped up but I’m wearing down by the minute. Most of the time I just want to let go, not giving a second thought to the world’s consequences or results of my actions.

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