Disaster...

That's what my meeting was with this guy.

I thought I was socially awkward, but this person wasn't so much worse. I suspect he has some kind of autism, because he just wasn't 'normal', and kept on ramblings about things he liked and disliked.

It was probably the longest 1.5hrs I had. When I first saw him, I should have turned around and walked away... but I was too 'nice', and wanted to give him a chance. Well, I tried... I really did. Even the fireworks were terrible, because he continued talking about how he liked that explosion, didn't like that explosion...

It just shows... what you read from email communications and chats sometimes don't live up to half what you expect. Deflated, I said I wanted to go home. I said goodbye, and walked away. But deep down inside, I felt sorry for the guy... it's not his fault that he is the way he is, and he too was probably just wanting to find someone to talk to, to be with. Unfortunately that person is not me...

On the ride back, I felt so sad, and looked out the window, staring blankly into the darkness of the tunnel. At that point I felt so lonely. So terribly, terribly lonely, as if I was alone in the world, yet strangely surrounded by people, by couples, by lovers (a lesbian one, right next to me...)

I tried... I really did.

Differences

When he told me his age, I was surprised, and perhaps a little disappointed. Too young, in my opinion... probably "immature" and ignorant of the ways of the world, whatever that may mean.

We had been emailing one another for a few days, and liked one another (at least what we've 'seen' of one another in writing), and we agreed to meet.

I'm not sure why the issue of age was never raised, but when it was, it was kind of a 'killer' of my enthusiasm for meeting this guy. I mean, I'm not old enough to be his dad, but still between the teenage and tweenage years are exactly the years when someone 'discovers' himself, discovers the world and its "wicked, wicked" ways and finds some sense and direction in life. Let's just say he's probably just starting that process, whereas I've been stumbling through for a while now.

Not to say that I have discovered myself completely, or know everything there is about the world, and I've already crossed the halfway point of my tweenage years. But still, common sense tells me (actually, warns me) that there will be great differences in experience, knowledge and outlook.

I guess I'll just go and meet this guy and see what happens. Worse thing that could happen is at some point either (or both) of us realise there's a great big disconnect, and we decide to part company before anyone of us feels too embarrassed to continue. If that happens, at least there's the fireworks I can still enjoy later tonight...

Well, given the stormy weather (a welcome cool, no doubt, in the persistent heat), that may not even be so certain...

I wish I hadn't seen all of the realness
And all the real people are really not real at all
The more I learn the more I cry
As I say goodbye to the way of life
I thought I had designed for me

Then I see you standing there
Wanting more from me
And all I can do is try
Then I see you standing there
I'm all I'll ever be
But all I can do is try
Try

Results....

I slept terribly, plagued by dreams and so tired and groggy when I woke up. I felt worse than having a hangover. And all I drank before bed was water...

But I needed to wake up, to call mum, because today is a big day. She went for a full CAT scan last week, and today she'd get the results. I was a little hesitant about calling. In the past, sometimes after conversations on days like this, I feel down, more down than ever, and helpless...

She answered the phone, and the TV I suspect was in the background. She sounded alright. The first sound of her voice can often tell how she's feeling. Nothing to worry about, she said, the doctor said her results are better than back in May, when she last had a checkup. "Must be all the travelling and good times in Europe," she said, even though I feared that some tensions at home didn't really do her any good.

I asked if she could see the pictures of her scan. She said she did, and there doesn't seem to be anything out of the ordinary. As long as there is not spreading or enlargement of lymph glands, then it's stable. It's under control.

That's good news, right?.

Catcher in the rye

"I have a feeling that you're riding for some kind of a terrible, terrible fall [...] It may be the kind where, at the age of thirty, you sit in some bar hating everybody who comes in looking as if he might have played football in college. Then again, you may pick up just enough education to hate people who say, "It's a secrete between he and I " Or you may end up in some business office, throwing paper clips at the nearest stenographer. I just don't know [...]

This fall I think you're riding for--it's a special jind of fall, a horrible kind. The man fallingisn't permitte to feel or hear himself hit bottom. He just keeps falling and falling. The whole arrangement's designed for men who, at some time or other in their lives, were looking for something their own environment couldn't supply them with. Or they thought their own environment couldn't supply them with. So they gave up looking. They gave it up before they ever really even got started. [...]"

I just finished reading the novel. Perhaps something I should have done when I first came across it in high school. Other kids were reading it, but I never did. I never understood what the fuss was all about at that age. But I do now.

I feel like Holden, he's the main character. Lost, confused, discontented, lonely and depressed. He's actually sick, but he doesn't know it... and neither does the reader till the very end. He's sick in the head, because there are constantly a thousand thoughts and images rushing through his mind. He has difficult concentrating, focusing and staying interested in any one thing. He's sad, bitter and perhaps angry too, at many people and at the state of the world. He can't name one thing he likes... but there are many things that bother him, that make him feel like puking or swearing... even though, deep down inside, he longs for the comfort and safety of childhood, of yesteryears. He's an adolescence thrust into a world of adults, but with one foot in the past. Traumas of death, abuse continue to linger in his mind... the happiness and lights and colours of growing up remain etched in his head, but he is afraid that they will fade with every passing day.

I may not be as discontented or angry as him, I do feel and can identify with many of his traits of his character. Maybe that's why it's such a celebrated novel, because it captures the mind of a confused adolescence who is desparate for love and help so well... By no means am I unique, I do not think, in being often plagued by feelings of depression and sadness and loneliness.But I am troubled, my mind is besieged by thoughts, fantasies and dreams, and all the while I long, I long so much for understanding and affection. Which Holden does not get. And neither do I, I feel.

But I don't think I am crazy, at least not yet. Then again, who knows a few years down the line, if all else remains the same, where and what state of mind I will be in...

Summer storm

The wind, strong and stubborn, blew against the window, sending the curtains flying and the door banging wildly. A storm was brewing. I could feel it in the wind, I could sense it in the damp and see the black, black clouds gather behind the leaves. Rain was sure to come down, fast and heavy, and the world would be drenched...

So I grabbed my sandals, put on a light waterproof jacket, and made a dash outside. I felt the rain on my feet, felt the rain wet my legs and feet, and dampen my hair and head. Let it rain, I felt like saying to the sky. Let it rain, and wash away the heat, the confusion and lethargy.

I ran, and it rained more and more. The more it rained, the faster I ran. The streets were deserted, as was the park. I ran on the path through the park, and felt the rain cleanse me thoroughly. Lightning flashed across the dark sky, thunder roared through the air. The sun hid somewhere in the distance, and you could see the storm gradually float overhead. I felt free and happy as I got wetter and wetter. My hair was like a sponge. My feet wet with water, dirty with mud and pebbles. My glasses blurred from the drops of water that ran down the lenses.

Then I had a thought... if lightning is supposed to be laden with positive charges, do people with negative thoughts not attract lightning strikes...?

And I ran.
Then

Nap

I closed my eyes for a nap... The humidity and heat is really getting to me. Even though I was born in the tropics, I sort of dread the daytime nowadays... and night isn't much better either.

In my nap, in a dreamlike state of mind I saw myself. A thought flashed by, and I saw myself older, twenty, thirty or maybe even thirty years from now. Old, lost, alone... beset by the same uncertainties and insecurities as I am today. I shook and woke up. I don't want to be like that... I don't want to grow old and bitter and lonely.

I feel like I lack enthousiasm these days. Lack that 'spark' in my brain and body that used to propel me and used to drive me. Somehow that has disappeared, and like a lightbulb, I feel dim and dull in a world full of noise, full of light and colours.

Where or from who can I find inspiration again...?

Waste of time.

If there's one thing I really don't like, it's people who make an appointment with you and then show up much (much, much) later. If it's 7 o'clock, then I'm most likely ready and waiting already for the person to show up at ten to...

But,10 minutes later... 15 minutes later... half an hour later... an hour later, and still no sign. I walk around the house, looking for things to do. The food I prepared has gone cold and dry. I'm starving and have lost almost all enthousiasm for a good evening in. Imagine all the things I could have done in that time waited waiting for the person to show up. Or at least call when they know they'll be late...

Such a waste of time!