Bulimic with life.
So here I go, on a fire spitting spree of words that have been bubbling in my mind and eating me slowly from the inside. I guess I should spit them out before I’m completely consumed.
Maybe it’s the flooding of papers and study sheets, the soar and cramping hands, the 5-hour-sleep-per-night nights and the constant migrane that have been my loyal and clingy companion for the past two weeks that are taking a toll on me. I’m weak. Physically. Intellectually. Emotionally. I’m tired and weak.
But most importantly, I’m full. Of good and bad.
I feel smarter now, with Kant, Marx, Smith and Plato quotes and philosophies echoing in my head, with the capacity to explain the Cold War in detail and the creation of the Third World, with the ability to explain the evolution of today’s society historically, economically and socially, the possibility to study Napierian logarithms and speculate a company’s marginal production cost and potential profit because of my mock exams.
I feel grateful for everything I have. My family and everything I have here. This will always be home and I have yet to find the courage to start counting down my departure date. I found love and lost sight of it for a bit, but made finding it again all the more worthwhile. This kind of gratefulness isn’t petty. It’s the one that ties a knot and make a whole ball of butterflies flutter in all directions in your stomach. Something one should experience at least once.
But you see, this vulnerability and weakness brings in emotions of all sorts.
I’ve been feeling like I’ve been floating on a cloud, observing everything around me like it was some dream. Hazy memories of my days and even more blurred ones of my nights. I limit my conversation time and topics with the few ones that I don’t feel like I can handle and unfortunately, they don’t even know me anymore well enough to notice.
I will be the first one to admit I’m not the type to assist and support a one man show. I despise it with all my might. I dislike dictators and absolute monarchies, and there is no way that some sort of high school illusions are going to escape that list. It seems logically and ethically ill fitting that everything should revolve around one thing because that’s simply not human. But there’s a weird gravitational pull that sucks me in. Maybe because we’re as much alike as we are not.
I’ve finally come to terms with something that people have been telling me. We can’t keep holding on to memories that tie us together because the more we try to force intertwining our universes, the more we forget their beauty, veiled by darkened confusion and misunderstanding.
… to be continued.
