Drizzle

It seemed like it was going to rain today. And it eventually did, as night fell and the winds started to blow. I stood in the drizzle, felt the refreshing droplets of rain fall, feel them tinkle and splash on my cheeks, nose and cling onto my lashes. Slowly raindrops slid down my glasses, and the world fogged and blurried. But it was a pleasant kind of bluriness, because you know when you wipe your glasses the blurriness would all go away. Unlike the other night.

Felt still a little bit dazed today, so plans to study and get some work done amounted to no more than 3 pages or so of reading. Somehow I felt really sleepy, even though I had been sleeping for eight hours or so, which was the amount I try to get nightly. Sleep wasn't really so smooth, and I definitely know I had dreams, which was pretty unsual, some of which were pretty intense, as if I was there again. Like little images and memories playing and replaying themselves in my subconsciousness, because of the lingering effects of the experience. But nothing that really kept me awake. I had a little bucket next to my bed... just to be on the safe side.

Last night I went home and took a long, hot shower, one that symbolised the washing away all the dirt and grime of the previous forty-eight hours. Now and then, I'd still have these moments when I wasn't fully aware of whether I was 'here', or whether I was at another moment in time. So I was still a little disorientated and bedazzled, but even in that state, I managed to fix a proper and healthy meal for the three of us, and clean up the kitchen after me, like I'd normally do. An amazing feat, seeing that I wasn't really 'myself' then. Nobody at home noticed there was nothing wrong with me. Either that shows how 'normal' I seemed or had acted, or how little they care.

I was a bit afraid to eat too much, fearing I'd throw up again. After some experience like that, I felt like I had to be careful with everything I did, as if I was exploring life and all the things I did before for the very first time. So all I had was a light meal of tofu with some stir-fry vegetable mix and olives, and a cup of orange juice. I felt full after that, and was really afraid I'd start throwing up again. I really didn't feel like doing that at home, especially when it'd arouse suspicions about what I've been up to. I remember when I was so out of myself that night, I was still somehow consciously telling myself that whatever happens, the last person I'd call is my brother.

So luckily, feeling full after dinner was just a normal reaction. I somehow managed to write that entry before... it was like the words and thoughts were flowing out of me, and I had to try to capture them before they slipped away from my fingers. At times, just trying to retrace those moments and thoughts made me dizzy and my mind spin, and I felt like I was about to have another fit of anxiety attack. But luckily, I guess it was just the intensity of the experience, like an extreme form of trauma being recalled, that temporarily caused the dizziness and spinning.

It was getting dark when I finished writing. But I felt like going out. I felt I wanted to be free... strange, because I had just experienced the 'ultimate' form of freedom. Somehow, even the looming clouds and dying light of day had their charms, and soon I was on my bike and cycling toward the beach. The wind in my hair, the low hum of the wheels, and slight metalic clink-clank from the vibrating bike-frame... they seemed like music.

On I cycled, and I never stopped... save for the occasional red traffic light. Past the empty and drearily gray beach, past darkened forests and shadows that danced in the dark, past countless houses filled with light and warmth.... On I cycled, feeling and absorbing that sense of freedom I relish whenever I'm on my bike, the feeling you get when you're in control of the direction and speed you are moving in. I felt no tiredness, but a rush. To go faster and further, and to be free.

And I was.