Sleepless nights

Again I can’t sleep. I’ve been having sleepless nights, nights in which I lie in bed, close my eyes and try to make myself sleep, but cannot. I curl up, hug myself, hoping that would do the trick, but nothing seems to help. Though physically tired, my head seems to be racing, seems to be filled with thoughts, worries, fantasies and fears.

Since I can’t sleep, might as wake up and write. Maybe by the time I finish this, and maybe when I get my mind down in words, I’ll be more…relieved.

Ten more days, and I’ll be older. I guess that’s one of the many things ‘bothering’ me recently. It seems like ever since the beginning of this year I’ve been feeling really agitated and empty, more empty than before. At first I thought the feeling, like all the things in life that are impermanent, would go away, but falling ill, and the bouts of not so pleasant weather recently hasn’t helped to lift my mood. It’s like inside there’s a voice crying out, at what or at whom I don’t know. But there seems to be some being deep inside trying to tell me something. It’s a mixture of feelings… of loneliness, of fear, of fear of rejection, of fear of failure, of longing and, perhaps, most of all, of hopelessness. I’m not sure if there’s one thing that I can point to as the source of all these negative emotions that have been pulling me down and making me depressive.

Next week, both my parents will be coming over to visit. It’s for the celebration of the lunar new year, during which traditionally families come together. Despite having horrendous amounts of work and deadlines in the next few weeks, and despite the fact I might have to go away to attend a three-day seminar in Belgium, I do look forward to seeing mum and dad again.

I’ve not seen them for almost a year, and this visit will be the first time in over five that both my mum and dad will be here. The fact that it’ll soon be my 23^rd birthday just made me realise that it’s been almost ten years since I last permanently lived with my parents. All these years by myself, thousands of kilometers of oceans and lands apart, I’ve grown up without them. It was a choice they made, a sacrifice even, to live me here in Europe so that I could have a better education. No doubt they were wonderful in providing me with all I ever need and so, so much more. No doubt they have my interests and my future in mind. But it all came at the cost of time together. The teenage years passed like a distant and vague memory.

I still remember that day when they left, that moment at the airport, me a little kid in tears waving goodbye to his parents. I somehow knew deep inside that moment would be the beginning of the end of my family. And I was right. Throughout the years the bonds between us became more and more diluted. My brother simply gave up keeping in touch with my parents, while I still harboured hopes that “blood runs thicker than water” and that in the end distance and time would not make our love and care for one another even less. Naïve perhaps.

However much you try to keep in touch, the barriers are still there. There are things you won’t tell to each other because the other wouldn’t understand, or because you don’t want the other to worry. And with time, the gap and distance grows, until one day you can’t even picture their faces without looking at their photographs. It didn’t help that a couple of years ago my dad just disappeared out of our lives without an explanation, and now he wants to suddenly rejoin us and pretend like nothing ever happened. The hurt has been done, and the feelings have become numb over time.

Partly inside, I deeply look forward to seeing both my parents again. It’ll be the firs time to see them both after discovering that they are both permanently ill with cancer. It’ll be so wonderful to have this precious time together, to be next to each other, to eat together, to walk together, to talk to one another and see and touch one another right in front of you. Life is short, and the times together even shorter.

There’s so much to say, so much to talk about… the future, with them, with me (and with my brother). There are things to be decided, even things that now seem so surreal to be dealing with, but which nonetheless must be faced up to before…before it’s too late.

Yet, at the same time I dread to face the façade that we’re a ‘wonderful, loving family’ reunited again. I know it’s pointless to dwell on unpleasant thoughts and unpleasant memories… the past has gone by, and you should never pre-judge the future based the past… but when I imagine and remember those terrible confrontations, arguments, bickering, the cold wars I cannot but feel an urge to just get away. Get as far away as possible and pretend I don’t have anything to do with my family any more.

Partly I want to get close to them, to bring everyone together again and make us all connect like we need to, but partly I don’t want to be involved. For too long I’ve had to be the bridge holding everyone together, the peacemaker who passes little messages because one person is not talking to another. The person who has to smile and dance around like a jester because the mood is so sombre. And I’m tired already, tired of this family I simply cannot quit because I care too much. I want to care for them, to love them all and not have to choose between sides. I want to show and let them know that I don’t favour anyone more than another… yet time and again they seem to be testing me. My longing for a relationship, one based on trust, understand, respect, and most of all, love comes from the desire to prove to myself that such things are possible in the world, despite what I’ve heard and seen and experienced.

Torn… like so often in life, I’m torn. All these incoherent, random thoughts and rants seems so pointless when I read back what I just wrote down… but this is how my mind is at the moment.

Incoherent, random, and ranting. And sleepless.

'Specialist'

It started to heavily snow at the beginning of the week, and overnight the snow thawed and disappeared. It was winter, but now I’m not sure what season it is anymore.

Been spending the past few days getting used to the busy life of school again. And since there will be ‘visitors’ next week, and since I may be going abroad for a few days (I’ll write more later!!), I’m trying to get as much work and reading done as possible. To be honest, the two weeks of vacation I just had I was simply lazy, and now I’m sort of feeling the pressure building. But I can do it. I know I can, because I always have.

Just now there was yet another round of shouting. As usual, my brother started it, because he came upstairs and found the girlfriend sleeping, instead of studying (like she should be doing). Well, in my opinion, it was already past eleven, so if she wants to sleep, let her sleep! My goodness... where's the descency?!

I had felt something was wrong earlier today when she came home from school, but didn’t think too much of it. A few minutes later she came out and threw up over the toilet bow. As she threw up and choked, I went to talk to her and ask if she needs anything. She said it’ll be alright, and that she’s not been feeling too well for sometime, and that today’s gotten a lot worse. I suggested to call the family doctor, but she insisted it’ll be alright, and that she’s “been to see the specialist”.

She didn’t elaborate and just went back to her room and closed the door behind her. “Specialist”… that word echoed in my mind, and I immediately thought of that episode some months ago.

Could it be…? My brother was somewhere in his room.

It's snowing!

It started a little bit as I was getting ready for class. I thought it would stop, because no snow had been forecast today. Wearing white pants was something I'd later regret.

A fascinating class it was today, about the origins of international law, and how it expanded and became so-called 'universal' in the age of colonialisation. You see, law was a product of the 'civilised nations', and only applicable to 'civilised' people. And in the last scramble for colonies at the end of the nineteenth century, law was used to promote and project European influence to the (literally) 'darker' reaches of the world. Land was taken, because the 'savages' were not civilised enough to own land. Uttterly unequal and biased treaties were drafted and signed, which basically signed away the rights and sovereignties of rulers in Africa and Asia. 'Savages' needed 'enlightened' ideas and practices to be 'liberated', and this was done through force, as well as institutions of law. The 'white man's burden' it was called, to spread civilisation (and to some extent, religion) throughout the darkened continents. A history and policy of hypocrisy, blatant racism, self-proclaimed superiority under the guise of 'humanity' and the supposed benign. Some would say the history has continued to this day.

So far, I've had the feeling the degree I'm doing and the university where I study is pretty... 'tame', in the sense that it sort of goes along with (conservative) mainstream theories. As I was preparing the readings for today last night, I was smiling. The very things I had studied and became indoctrinated with at SOAS were alive and kicking. The world is not as black and white as it seems. Democracy and law aren't neutral ideas that can be imported and exported like everything else this neo-liberal capitalist world society seems to produce and market. The critiques of post-modernism on the current world order, the Foucauldian discourse on us vs them, the vices of seeing the world through Eurocentric and ethnocentric perspectives all came flooding back. The left didn't die after all.

And all of a sudden, in the middle of class, a girl gasped as she looked out the window. It began to pour with snow, softly and silently it was almost surreal. The girl had apperently never seen snow before, so was excited, and she excited the rest of us too.

Soon class was over, and we all rushed outside. I stood there, stuck my tongue out and tasted the falling flakes. I cycled home, as quickly as I could, but the roads were horrible and jammed with cars. Quickly I got my camera, and in the snowfall that was getting bigger and bigger, I headed for the forest.

Winter had finally come.

Watch out for these bands!!!!

For those people who fear the way “homosexuality invades family life through popular music”, fundamentalist gay-bashing bigot evangelical priest Donnie Davies has the solution. The proud founder of the CHOPS programme (CHANGING HOMOSEXUALS into ORDINARY PEOPLE) has kindly released a list of bands that are to be considered ‘dangerous’.

So, friends, for your own sake and for the sake of God, next time you hear Queen, Elton John, The Rolling Stones and Frankie goes to Hollywood, or Frank Sinatra, do remember to cover your ears and say your prayers. Or else you might just begin to have struggles “with undesired same-sex attractions”.

Instead, be humble and do tune into to songs that spread the wonderful message of God’s grace, love and tolerance, like “The Bible Says”:

“God hates a fag.
God hates a fag.
God hates a fag.
If you’re a fag he hates you too.

Read the Bible and you’ll be sure
to enter Heaven, there’s no back door.
Righteous man, get on your knees.
There lies no virtue in sodomy.”

Sitting on a bench

Sometimes songs can send shivers throughout your whole body, because the melody and words speak to you, speak to your lonely heart.

I sat cross-legged on a bench overlooking the calm, gray sea. It was a beautiful afternoon, and I stared far, far into the distance, wondering where the sea ended and where the sky began. It was cold, so I had my hands in my jacket pocket, earplugs in my ears. I sat, forgetting all about time, and just stared at the sea, as it silently waved and crashed in the distance.

At times I'd close my eyes, and feel the weak sun try to touch me. Down at the beach, people strolled by... some couples walked hand in hand, while others talked gently with their friends and family.

Now and then people would walk past the bench I sat on, and they'd at me. The expressions on their faces seemed to be one of pity... as if they could see the word 'loneliness' written all over me. Even the doggies that sniffed and skipped and peed around me seemed so very happy.

I tried to ignore them, and to pretend to look into the distance, look at the waving sea and the never-ending coastline so that I wouldn't have to face them... But uncontrollably my eyes would wander and dwell on the shadows of the people who had just passed me by. Perhaps, I envied how they had someone to talk to, someone to be with. The dirt path before me was deserted and seemed to lead to nowhere. And the songs playing in my ears seemed to mock my feelings.


I tried to shut out the nagging, irritating thoughts and words of those I live with... I tried to not think about the mess I wake up to face every single morning. But it's hard. I tried not to think about the things I still have to do for school... about the future that lies ahead of me after I graduate in a few months.

The seagulls flew and soared in the skies, and were free. It was a real shame that surrounded by all this beauty of nature and this day, my mind was muddled and miserable.

When I decided to head home... head back to that place and those people I'd rather not have to see, the skies had clouded, and the sun was starting to disappear.