Homeward bound.

Been almost twenty hours since I left home. Two plane journeys and many time zones later, I am in Japan. Late evening , tired, just want to get to the overnight hotel , maybe have some food and then rest.

Half way around the world, next stop Taiwan for around 10 days. The world feels so small when you hop in the plane and end up somewhere else. Another culture. Another country. How fortunate I am to be able to get into a plane and just fly.

It was an agitated flight... Couldn't sleep very well, and didn't do as much work as I would have liked to, despite being in the relative comfort of business class.

Coming to narita brings back memories as well... How many times have I transited through here and felt so heavy, felt so exhausted in the face of troubles surrounding mum's ailing health. Now four years after she passed, the only thought I had in the plane was : they are together now. They are together now.

25-03-2016
NRT-TPE

A long night of rest, lay in bed even after waking up at 430am and drifted in and out of sleep as the dawn arrived. The train tracks outside of my window became gradually more busy, and air traffic resumed again after the night curfew ended. As much as I enjoy watching planes take off and land at an airport, I would not waver to be living next to one. The noise, every five minutes or so, is deafening.

On the plane to Taiwan... As I lay in bed, I wondered how best to make use of my limited ten days or so in Taiwan. Where do I go first? Arriving late in the evening at the monastery makes me feel embarrassed... But I have so much stuff to haul around I really can't go anywwhre without difficulty. Will I be welcome there?  Of course I will be, but it's just I've (deliberately) not been in touch to accentuate the  impact of the surprise when I show up at the monastery. And what after that? Do I stay for most days and reserve the last few days for chiayi? When do I got see mum and dad?

I guess I'll just plan as the days go by and just decide at the moment I'm leaving...

1608-250316
On the way go the THSR

Rainy, wet, typical day in early spring in northern Taiwan. I was nervous when I was clearing immigration, as always. Always the fear of being told I must go fulfil my duty as a male citizen and serve military service... But the lady was alright, didn't say much. Withing thirty minutes of landing and collecting luggage, I'm out and on my way to the high speed railway station.

How long has it been? Nine or ten months at most? How come it feels so foreign here... How come I feel like a foreigner?
What do I do here? Do I even belong?

Brussels

I woke up feeling so groggy and heavy. And like most mornings rolled over to pick up my phone and scroll down the facebook front page. Bombings. Dead. Brussels.

It had happened six hours earlier, around 8am CET. terrorists ruthlessly bombed Brussels' airport and a metro station near the European Commission. Days earlier, one of the masterminds of the Paris attacks (where over a hundred perished, one mainly at a theatre where a concert was being held) was captured in Brussels.

The terrorists have struck again. After Mail, Ankara, Paris, the symbolic heart of Europe is the latest victim. Is there no end to this madness? Is there no end at all?

Pictures of maimed people quickly spread on social media. Cartoons with Tintin in tears were drawn... A torn country, Belgium today stands United again fear and terror, as other nations, mainly western democracies which have suffered attacks themselves. Stand in solidarity with the victims of senseless violence.

What will drive someone to hate random strangers so much they would maim them? What would drive someone to commit such acts of violence and not care whether children or old people, whether Muslims or Christians, whether Asians or Africans fall victims?
Such horrendous acts.... Instilling fear and death and gore into the lives of many who just go about their daily lives...

The extremists and right wing are having a field day. Blame is being laid on the Muslims and a whole people are painted in such bad light again...

When will such senseless violence end? When will the cruelty of humankind inflicted on itself ever end?

May the world be at peace! May there be sanity and peace...

Reality

I woke up groaning and feeling so alone in the world...


Images lingered in my head, images and thoughts of mum, memories of a trip we once took together, perhaps one of the last ones...

Where was it? I cannot recall exactly... I somehow remember a restaurant, on a roadtrip, one of our last together, a wonderful meal, a glorious sunset, beautiful smiles, seeing mum happy, which was for a long time such a treat for her pain had gotten gradually worse and worse...

But was any of it real? Was it imagined?  Did any of it happen? Was I even there? Was she even there? Were we ever there together? Did anything happen at all?

All just muddled images in my mind. All perhaps conjurings of my mind and vague recollections of my memories...

Mum, did you ever exist? Were you ever there?  Did you ever leave such an impact on my life...?

Dad's hand

I held onto Dads hands... They felt so warm, so warm and comforting...
I started to sob uncontrollably.

Nightmares

I saw these images of mum on the hospital bed... Tubes everywhere, machine sounds.... She looked so desparate, and I cringed and felt so sick...

Lunar New year's day

Out on the taking a walk, close to midnight. Beautiful crisp air, surrounded by skyscrappers and the Waters of Vancouver Harbour. I was reminded that 7 years ago , February 2009, I came here for the first time on my wei back to Montreal after spending the first new years with mum and brother after dad passed. What a trip that was... How long ago that was and feels like!

Now alone here again. Wanted to meet my relatives but they don't have time (or don't want?) I didnt want to bother my friend too long (first day is a guest, second a nuisance, third a pest! Today is the third...) So I booked a hotel for tonight. I spoke to my cousin, the one working abroad in Singapore. Seems like she's alone and finding it tough to be away from family as well. After a while, we come to realise how important family is, how important home is. And we treasure those, value those, and keep them in our memories even long after they have gone.

Quiet way to spend the first day of the new year. Reminiscing the past, and looking forward to the future...

Eight years already

This time, eight years ago, dad left the world. In my arms, he breathed his last breath and left.

I can remember it well.. where it took place, who was all there, the sound of machines beeping more slowly. Mum weeping. It was a sad sad occasion.

I miss you dad...

6 February earthquake

Three consecutive tremors hit southern Taiwan in the early hours yesterday, the biggest registered 6.4 on the Richter scale.
Immediately there were scenes of carnage and destruction as several high rises collapsed. To now, some 12 people are confined dead, dozens still missing, and with each passing moment the chances of survival, especially those trapped under rubble, grow grimmer.

I was boarding the flight to Vancouver when the news broke and immediately called my relatives back home. Luckily, things are alright with them, nobody injured and they are all sound.

Money is pouring in from all over the country, and there are many stories of hotels and restaurants offering victims free  food and shelter . In times of need, the Taiwanese know the true, heartwarming meaning of solidarity and humanity.

I was immediately reminded of the date. 6th of February, the day eight years ago dad passed away... And its the day known as new years eve eve. I remember somehow dad telling us once about how terrified he was once as a child, when a massive earthquake struck chiayi, his hometown , the Baihe quake of 1964, which struck also shortly before the lunar New year. He told me vividly the carnage and destruction after the quake, and how for days after that he and his family were so afraid to sleep indoors. It was a 6.3 quake. The one yesterday 6.4, and in a very similar area.

The things that I remember...

Japan immediately pledged aid and supplies after the quake, as gratitude for
The people of Taiwan who were the biggest donors after the 2011 earthquake. China, the country that claims it owns and governs my homeland, is surprisingly silent.

May people be well, May my homeland be safe and pass through this difficult time with ease and through unity.

YYZ:YVR

A minute or so after take off. The engine of the Boeing 777300ER is whizzing loudly as we apprach the cloud cover. All's foggy outside the window, the bright lights of the streets and urban sprawl below us is disappearing below the clouds.

Another flight. The first of several this month. As the plane soared on the runway, I could not but think back at the many flights I have taken on board planes of this sort toward Asia, toward Taiwan. Around the same time in the past few years. Past eight years almost, since dad passed. And each time how my heart filled with such anxiety, such stress such worry. It's almost all like a dream now. It all feel like some distant nightmare, some dark thunderclouds that have passed me by, drenched and frightened me ( traumatised me even) so, but are now disappearing into the distance, not to return again. Hints of those dark clouds resurface at times, in dreams, in lows of depressed states of my mind, in lonely nights when I'm lying in bed and trying to sleep... And at moments like these , days before the biggest family festival of the year, when families reunite and come together.

I dont really have a family now. But kindly a friend and her mum is asking me to fly to Vancouver and spend the new year days with them, and maybe I'll get to see my auntie and cousin as well. It's better than being at home and all alone and feeling sorry for myself, though in hind sight, had I known I'd 've traveling so much this month, I would have probably not gone on this trip.

Cuba, India, Bangladesh, Taiwan, and maybe even Europe all in the next two months. Who would have thought I'd still be flying around the world after alls said and done? I should consider myself lucky. Were it not for work,and the  strange sense of confidence my boss has in me to send me overseas to speak on his behalf and on behalf of the Institute/Centre, I would not have this oppvortunity to go to the Indian subcontinent (and side trip to visit a friend in Bangladesh)! How fortunate I am. And Cuba is a little "reward" for myself on my birthday, part of the tradition to get awei on that day when I know if I were home I  would get down because I am not with/do not really have family to celebrate my lifemy birth with. Two friends are coming and that should be an exciting and eye opening trip.

Brother has been warming up a bit more and calling me. Though it's because he is asking for my help and for me to proofread his applications to jobs, its still pleasant to be talking and have something to say to each other. The latest I heard is that he may relocate with his family to Denmark... Great state-owned defence company, and good benefits. But it'll be a lot of work and trouble to move the whole family and for the little ones to acclimatise. I really pray he has good news and a firm offer soon. That would mak our parents so proud and happy and give me some good news to tell our parents when I "see" them in a month or so.

Living in Toronto now for over a month, and things are going well. The friend I had living in my spare room has finally moved his belongings out, so for the first time ever, I could use that room, something I never did since I got the Keys to the condo around six months ago. Six months already, can you imagine? How much time and effort and stress I have experienced and spent arranging things and moving...? So much stress I started to severely grind my teeth so bad I need now to wear a nigh guard because of constant aches in my jaw! The stress level has died down now, and I am settled in more or less. But my room is still a mess...

Of papers, of unopened boxes.... And it's been like that for the better part of a month. The other day someone came by and laughed at and commented on how horrible the state of the room is. It is indeed. But little do they realise how much energy, how much effort it takes to life those boxed, to open those boxes and sort through letters pictures, momentoes that together capture the lives of my parents, the history of my family, that underline that void that still echoes in my heart when I think back at mum and dad and the family we used to be.... It is painfully difficult to sort through all these papers and boxes. Painfully difficult, hence why I just dumped them in parts of the room and have not had the energy or will to move them and sort through them...

Otherwise, life is alright. Just moving along. Doing my work, picking myself together and living life , often with such gratitude and joy  when I look around and see what I have and have accomplished, but also at times with such longing and sense of loss and emptiness.

Always look on the bright side of life.
The monkey year will be a good one.

Dream

The second time this week I had a dream about mum and dad...

God, I miss them so dearly still.

The election eve.

When I wake up in a few hours, the results of the 2016 elections in Taiwan will largely be known.

It's nerve wracking, I'm anxious and my stomach is churning I cannot sleep. Eight years of the wretched KMT and gradual erosion of my honeland's sovereignty and dignity, tomorrow may usher in hope... A woman, the first female president, the third peaceful transition of power.

But who knows what surprises are in store when the votes are counted. Who knows what dark and corrupt moves the KMT has up its sleeve, and how China will threaten and bully the public...

And even if Tsai Ing-Wen wins, how far down the road to destruction and eradicating Taiwan's international space and existence have we gone in either years? Is there still hope for the country? Will she prove herself to be a capable and strong willed leader?

I sure hope so... I sure am such a proud Taiwanese and will always be Taiwanese.

天祐臺灣

天祐臺灣！
Formosa forever...

Stubbornness

How does not wanting to trouble someone with having to pick me up at the airport become a sign of stubbornness...?

No blame, no praise.
Let it go. Let the angry words and raised voice go. They are not mine. They are gifts I do not accept, and should not bother me

Minutes to midnight

A few minutes to midnight, to the new year. Outside you can almost already hear the abated noise of fireworks and revellers, of popping champagne corks and party horns. An old year is leaving soon, a new one is about to dawn.

My cousin is in his room talking to his girlfriend, they want to 'spend' the new year together, sweet. So I'm just here on my own with the two cats, in the new apartment. It's not quite all ready yet, actually just two hours ago we were still painting parts of the kitchen, but it's falling into place. And what a way to begin the new year in a new home, filled with hope and starting life afresh. After all the troubles, all the fatigue of getting to this place, of getting to this point in my life, I sit back and feel a sense of fulfilment, finally, of quiet joy and contentment. I have come so far... so far...

Here is to all the people who have helped me along the way... may they be happy and at peace. May the world be happy and at peace.

Peace, joy and love to the world and everyone, every being in the new year.

Packing away

(was this 2014 or 2015?
Reads like it was packing to move from Montreal to Toronto)

 

 
I stopped and suddenly felt this sadness creep over me. I am surrounded by a mess of boxes, wrapping paper, and two cats who seem to be having the time of their lives playing hide and seek with plastic bags lying around on the floor. The apartment, my home for the last seven years, is slowly emptying. The cupboards,  drawers, and even the fridge, are all being cleaned out and cleared.

It feels as if I am re-reading the story of my life, replaying the records of my family's life. The fragile memories of the past are all being carefully wrapped and packed awei. The delicate momentoes from trips and classes I have taken, dates I have been on, restaurants I have dined in, funerals I have attended, are all being sorted and boxed.

Many years have passed since those summer days
Among the fields of barley
See the children run as the sun goes down
Among the fields of gold
You'll remember me when the west wind moves
Upon the fields of barley
You can tell the sun in his jealous sky
When we walked in fields of gold
--"Fields of gold"

Packing is like retracing traces of how I got to be where I am and who I am now. Packing is shifting through the evidence of the brevity of my thirty something years on this big, big world and piecing together the significance of events, dates, challenges which have given meaning to life. It is an opportunity to meet people again, some of whom were once so very, very dear to my heart and soul and yet have already parted. It is an opportunity to connect, even if momentarily, with the ones have given my life lasting memories of warmth and beauty.

Unhappiness where's when I was young,
And we didn't give a damn,
'Cause we were raised,
To see life as fun and take it if we can.
My mother, my mother,
She hold me, she hold me, when I was out there.
My father, my father,
He liked me, oh, he liked me.
Does anyone care?
--"Ode to my family"

Some items, in order to save space and reduce weight, need to be binned, others need to be recycled. Packing is judging, it is deciding what (...or who) matters, what will continue to matter, and what deserves a chance to continue to be part of me as I make my wei forward in life. Some things that cause too much pain or embarrassment, things associated with people or events who have long faded and paled in significance, are to be  buried and forever disappeared...

Clothes not worn for ages, still lingering with the scent of my youth, my being, are being bagged in the hope they will eventually find they wei to those who can make better use of them. Even after years of neglect, hidden in the pockets of these items of clothing are gems of my past. Crinkled pieces of papers, ticket stubs, half-used chapsticks, packets of tissues and wrappers recording little, bitter sweet  days gone by...

The collection of model airplanes are being disassembled in preparation for relocation to the new hub. Pictures on the wall, some yellowing a little already, others cringing on the sides, but all covered with the dust of time and grease from dinner parties and many countless nights eating in the company of Netflix, still need to be taken off of the walls.

"Written on these walls are the colors that I can't change
Leave my heart open but it stays right here in its cage
I know that in the morning now I see us in the light upon a hill
Although I am broken, my heart is untamed, still
And I'll be gone, gone tonight
The fire beneath my feet is burning bright"
--"The story of my life"

 I pick up another book, another photograph, another magnet from some exotic destination, another stack of letters, papers, statements that together make up the pieces of my life, and I continue to pack.

 

Last night in Montreal

One last night, last couple of hours in Montreal...

The cat is sleeping on a heap of my clothing. It is cold, not horribly so, but chilly (surprisingly 'warm' for this time of the year...). The room is a mess, but at least the rest of the house is somewhat emptier.

A few more hours, and I am out of here. Home of the past six years.

Gone.

Last night in Montreal

Final night, final few hours in my own apartment in Montreal. Seven years here, and tomorrow I will be relocated to Toronto.

The house is a mess, at least my bedroom is. I've had to move all the remaining things into my bedroom, which now is just a pile of stuff. Boxes, papers, plastic bags, odd appliances and clothes all strewn over my bed. It's a horrible mess. And I'm in a pretty foul mood... My cousin is here, and fortunately he helped me a bit. Friends came by, just to say goodbye. Need friends even ask for help to get some help...? It's just been three, four weeks of packing, packing and sorting through things, and I am dead, dead tired. As someone said, it is even tougher doing it all by myself, having to do it all alone.

Last night in Montreal, and I am in this foul mood... sadly, this is the case, perhaps because I am just so exhausted mentally and physically (my jaw hurts from over grinding... my head aches from getting by with very little sleep...) Does anyone care or ask how I am doing? Not even my own brother or his family reached out to ask how I am doing or what I am doing this Christmas period...

Flying "home"

Flying back to Montreal after a few days in Toronto. The move earlier in the week went smoothly. 30+ boxes of personal belongings and my bed all moved in a truck within a day. I'm settled now, at least the majority of my belongins have been moved. That was always the biggest headache. A headache that caused me much worry and stress, and even my night time grinding to intensify... Now it's just a matter of unpacking, and that will take some time. But I have time. Slowly, things will fall into place. Slowly, my home will be more and more personalised and my own. The arrival of the cats will be a giant leap in that regard. The cats will make things covered with hair but also with such warmth and sense of belonging. (Just hope the move next week will not be challenging....)

The last of the renovation work was completed with the delivery of the kitchen appliances and setting of the counter top for the kitchen. And yesterday, inadvettently while just walking down the street, I came across a store that had furniture made in Canada that were perfect for the condo. Deeply discounted and quality wood , made by local woodmakers. It was chance, it was fate. I didn't even have to go looking for it, it was just there, with a sign pointing up stairs. Like so many things associated with the purchase of this condo, it all happened so smoothly and flowed... 
Delivery of the furniture should be next week. And then I'm set (painting still needs to be done, but that can take some time...).

As I was unpacking some of the boxes, I careful unwrapped mum and dad's cups and bowls. The ones I use to offer them food and drinks on special days. I was again reminded of their absence, and imagined their joy of only they could see my place and stay at my own home... If only. Amid the joy and pride of owning my own home, I felt a tinge of sadness too. They worked so hard, and I have so much thanks to them... I am so fortunate to be able to buy and enjoy luxury appliances and poeceliain (all discounted of course, but still... ) Quality and living the high life compared to so many years of living so modestly in my previous apartment in Montreal. I imagine they would be happy to see my pride and joy, living on the top floor of a lovely little buidlinf in a great location. They would be assured, I am sure... 

As the plane banked away and ascended into the clouds, I felt this jubilation. I have a home. A beautiful home I can call my own. It'll be so personal, it'll be my private castle, shelter from the world, and my little private corner of the world . And it is no one else's. I have to be very careful to guard my place against others. My mum told me that, I remember, as friends in particular might try to take advantage of me seeing how I live alone, so I must be vigilante. Whatever people may say.

A few days in Montreal, one last Christmas celebration and then that's it. A new beginning at the end of a long year, and waiting to welcome the new year.

First night (with a bed)

It's not my first night here in the new condo, but it is going to be the first night with a bed.

What an exhausting three days it's been since the weekend. First had to finish a 20+ page paper (co-authoring with a very renowned scholar, what an honour!) And then packing and packing till yesterday after 3am. Had to get up at 7 to prepare for the arrival of the mover (yet another night with so little sleep... I'm averaging 3-4hrs these days, causing me headaches and dizziness... Really not healthy at all!)

The mover was honest, professional, and we chatted a bit on the long 7hr journey, about my home, about his home country iran, regional politics , the rise of extremism... 30+ items, two dozen boxes. All had to be moved.

It seemed like a dream

Flurries

I opened my eyes, the suddenness of the captain's announcement made my heart jump from the slumber I'd fallen into as soon as I boarded the plane. Tired, exhausted even, as I made my third, or is it fourth, trip to Toronto in as many weeks. Fatigued from staying up till three in the morning preparing for my lecture in the morning. Normally, after the three hour lecture, I would be so drained I would go home to nap (or even just sleep...) . But I had a project I wanted to finish, a book totalling 770 pages...

Before rushing to the airport just in time for the luggage check in cut off time, I frantically packed my usual two suitcases. I filled it with DVDs, books, whatever else was lying on the bookshelf in the spare bedroom under a layer of dust. Some DVDs have never been opened. Some books have never been fully read from cover to cover. Some momentoes bought, or stored, and never touched again. Why? Perhaps I was busy. Or perhaps I was afraid to see and flip back at the pages of days past.

One, or at least one, of the books was a photobook. A collection of ticket stubs, brochures, photographs and whatnot from trips over the past few years. Just a few years ago, when mum was still around, when journeying around the world had a goal, had a purpose, had meaning....

Loving can heal
Loving can mend your soul
And it's the only thing that I know (know)
I swear it will get easier
Remember that with every piece of ya
And it's the only thing we take with us when we die

We keep this love in this photograph
We made these memories for ourselves
Where our eyes are never closing
Our hearts were never broken
Times forever frozen still

The plane slowed and made a gradual descent. The skies were clear, or at least clearer than before I fell asleep. Looking out, the headlight installed on the wing cast an intense beam of light into the dark of the night. Rain, or at least what I thought was rain, fell sideways and were captured by the beam of light. The rain, which turned out to be sleet or flurries, got sucked into the rotating blades of the Q400 aircraft as we slowly, slowly and carefully approached Toronto.

The lights and sight of the city never ceases to be dull and again filled with with such excitement and anticipation. A friend greeted me at the airport and helped me with the two suitcases I lugged from Montreal.

Later at night, I hauled a suitcase back to my new condo alone. It was flurrying slightly. A cold, yet romantic air hang in the air. Romantic in the sense it provoked emotions,  thoughts and nostalgia... I felt a sense of gratitude. After so long, I have a home, finally have a home I can call my own. After all the struggles, after all the memories, some captured in the photobook in the suitcase that groaned as the wheels slid over the pavement, after some of the painful and most difficult and challenging moments of my life (as yet, or perhaps ever...) I have a home to go to.

I opened the door and stepped into the warmth of the new condo.  The smell of  the newly placed laminate floor lingered still in the air. I saw a trail of footprints on the lightly dusted floor. It is a work still in progress.

But I am almost there. My home, a place to call my own.

No more

Last night, madmen (I assume they were all men...) gunned down close to 130 people in downtown Paris. People out enjoying Friday night at a restaurant, at a theatre, and in a nearby football stadium were suddenly thrown into a frenzy of bloodshed and fear. The city locked down, a state of emergency was declared, police and the armed forces were mobilised. The French president vowed to be ruthless against the perpetrators, who it seems clear are Islamic State ISIS. The Eiffel Tower turned off its lights, elsewhere monuments around the world light up in the French tricolore in solidarity with the tragic and senseless loss of lives. A few days earlier, and not much reported or covered, Lebanon suffered a bomb attack that claimed close to two hundred lives. ISIS again claimed responsibility.

What drives people to hurt and maime people on such a wide scale (or even at all)? How twisted and sick one must be to engage in such acts of violence against people you do not know and only interact with, perhaps just a glance of the fear in their eyes, perhaps in just hearing their scream of fear, before their death which you prematurely caused?

Terrorism is sick, and extremist violence aimed to terrorise and kill is mad. The victims in Paris, Lebanon, and throughout history, and in the future to come, deserve nothing less than our sympathy and solidarity. But what is the response to such acts of terrorism? How do you defeat or even engage in an enemy you cannot see, that has no addrress and no clear cut structure?

What is the world  becoming ?
We mourn the loss of innocence and for the victims of terrorism. I silently whisper "no more, no more..."

Flight to Toronto

The dusk light is casting a yellow and golden glow on  the land below, accentuating the colours of high Autumn. Below are the calm waters of Lake Ontario, and in the distance the shores of the city of my future home.

Almost in Toronto, fifteen hours or so until the exam, my last equivalency/qualification exam before taking the bar. Family law. It's been a grueling process studying for this (when has it not been?). I felt so distracted, stressed and concentrated. And there are moments I just want to lie down and sleep. How can I be so tired all the time? How can I just sleep through the day and want to sleep even more?

Is it the effects of the changing  seasons taking its toll on me already? Or the recent shocks to my life and state of mind from the series of events that have again undermined my faith on people and in relationships? All in all, it's been a struggle the past few weeks just to get out of bed, just to pull myself together and get myself to work , to study.

At least this time tomorrow, I'll be free of the stress of an impending exam. The last of nine I have somehow struggled through over the span of 4 years. Four years...

That will ease my mind somewhat, and the rest is just finishing the semester and trying to finish off the editing jobs that have been pretty much neglected since the begining of term.

Toronto is approaching... I feel it. I look forward to the change. Look forward to severing ties with reminders and memories that for a long time, for too long perhaps, have kept me so weak and isolated.

Crappy day

It's just one of those days. I found it hard to get up, and when I did, somehow the laptop screen just went blank. A new laptop, less than a year old. The other day, the big cat jumped on it and it fell off the table with a loud bang that woke me up. And somehow, it seems to have just died...

If that wasn't enough, the other cat went missing for a few hours, only to wander in like nothing happened close to midnight... Talk about trying to study for an exam in five days. I couldn't. Just couldn't. Between lying in bed and trying to find th cat and trying to get my laptop working again (to no avail...) I was just mentally drained and could not get myself motivated to do anything at all. So at close to 4am I am trying to salvage what remains of the last day, or trying to begin the day on a better note.

Nap

I woke up and in that moment I said:

"Mama you must take care of yourself. Papa you also..."

And I opened my eyes. Five to eight at night, the rain is pouring outside. Time to get up now.

Stay with me...

Why am I so emotional?
No, it's not a good look, gain some self-control
And deep down I know this never works
But you can lay with me so it doesn't hurt

Aunt's visit to my new place

Last week, my aunt (mum's cousin) visited me in Montreal, and this week her tour ended up in Toronto (where they are scheduled to fly out in a couple of hours...). I coordinated with her, for I knew she would spend some time in the city and do some sightseeing here, and I asked her to take some time out to come see my new place. She happily agreed. Goodness it has already been over two months since we first talked about today's plans, and the day came.

I met up with her at the base of the CN Tower, where she had a nice lunch. I took her to see my new, as yet unfurnished condo. And she was happy for me. She liked the brightness of it all, the spaciousness of the living room, the fact that there is a lovely old church building next door, and how conveniently located (and yet quiet) the building is in the downtown area. She walked around every room and inspected everything carefully, giving me ideas on how to decorate, things to bear in mind (feng shui matters, of course!), telling me all about the importance of positioning of the bed (not under a beam; not in front of a door), the furnace (stove; never in sight as soon as you enter, for the stove is the 'deposit' of wealth) , the sofa (must have a wall to have some kind of 'backing'; never in empty space in the middle of the room)... She took  a few moments to stand on my balcony and admire the view, which was particularly glorious on this sunny day.

We spent the afternoon together, walking around and I showed her a bit of downtown before going to the waterfront and buying some souvenirs to take home. We waited at the restaurant where she was supposed to rejoin her tour group and head to the airport. That was about half an hour ago.

I left the restaurant with a heavy, weighty heart and for several moments after our goodbye felt like crying. She and mum look alike (except the auntie is a bit shorter), and the way she speaks reminds me also of mum... In many ways, she is like her, and she even says she and mum were so very close. They were practically sisters, even though they were cousins, because my auntie doesn't have a sister and looked to my mum as her older sister. The bond was so tight, so strong...

"You have to take good care of yourself, you are on your own now..." she said. She held me as she said that. That really struck a cord in my heart. Her eyes were shimmering. That really hit a button that could have so easily unleashed some tears.

I walked home, to the condo I own, put music in my ears and walked through the busy streets and brights lights of the city. It felt so cold, so very cold suddenly.

I walked into the apartment. It was dark. The only light were the dim light of the city in the background.
 And even though the place I know is pretty much unfurnished (odd chair and table here and there...), it felt all the more empty. That emptiness really pulls at the heart strings.

Really does.

Sleepless night

I lie in bed and cannot sleep. Last night, I could hardly sleep from the excitement of preparing for my lecture. I am exhausted, but I just stir as soon as I am about to sleep...

I called "home" and spent some time chatting on the phone with the monk in the mountains I turn to in times of difficulties. I emptied my emotions, described how more or less since visiting Europe and my brother last month, I have been so disturbed and sleep deprived.  much to do with work-induced stress, but much also attributed to this renewed sense of nostalgia and missing induced by the holidays (mid Autumn). And then there's been that added element of uncertainty, of the impending big change in my life to come. I have just been agitated, diaturbed...

All these thoughts, all these images, these conversations being replayed in my head. I feel tortured by the lack of sleep, and this will no doubt affect again how I feel and how well/poorly I function in the day.

What's wrong...? How come I cannot sleep? I so want to sleep.... I so want real rest, sweet rest of my body, my mind, my soul without me being disturbed by dreams, images, fears and doubts...

end before it started

The end before it started

Just like that, it ended. Not the care and affection we feel for one another, because we both agree we enjoy each other's company and that we have a lot of fun talking and in and out of bed. But that is not enough, not for him. And he didn't want to mislead me or lead me on. He wanted to be honest with me, to be truthful, to prevent more and deeper hurt later on as feelings develop and as time went on. He is just not that into me, not as much as I am into him anyways.

It sucks. It does. Part of me feels hurt, deeply hurt, like another episode of abandonment and another harsh blow I have to deal with and cope with after so many storms and losses in my life over the past few years. But I MUST dissociate him telling me that he just does not feel that spark with me from everything else that has been happening in my life. They are not related, even though the small and hurt psyche in me may feel like I am like a victim and is for some reason being "punished" with lonelyness and abandonment. I am not being punished. I am simply living life, simply weather storm after storm as all people do in life, even though it may appear that other people have it so much easier than I do.... We all have it as it is, nothing less, nothing more.

We hugged. Twice. Tightly. It was hard to know when to let go, and I did not let go before he did, or at least suggested he was letting go. I felt a lot of passion and affection, but that may be accentuated and masked by my desire to fulfil a void in me that was left behind by the loss of my mum. That got me wondering, particularly after that deep conversation we had after a very passionate session last week. But I knew, somehow, after a response from an email I wrote him after that night, that the feelings were not mutual, and that perhaps he would want to cool it off. And I was right.

He showed up suddenly by ringing the bell tonight. I had just finished dinner and was sitting in the living room floor watching TV. He came in, I got all excited and expectant. We talked about our weekend. And then came the reality. And it hit hard. An hour or so ago, he cryptically asked how long it has been since we last met. But he was fishing for how I feel. I answered back: "Either you miss me a lot, or you do not miss me at all". I thought that was a clever response, and of course I wanted it to the former. But it was the latter.

He has fun and enjoys my company, but not to the depth and degree as I do. It was clear, I imagine, after that email I wrote him expressing and laying bare my feelings toward him. It was good, in a way, and I have to remind myself of this and rationally deal with this (loss it loss, feelings are feelings, nothing more, nothing less... I was alone before I met him, I am alone and living my live after he made clear things are not the way as I wish/want them to be).

He showed up at my door. I was surprised, and expectant. But hhe reality hit. It was not as I imagined it would be. He had to come clean. He is one, and that makes him all the more special, because he cares and cares about how I feel, to not hide or conceal and wants to be frank and upright and does not wish to live with guilt or the burden of misleading someone or leading someone on.

I was so reluctant to let him go, but let him go I must... I was reluctant because I felt like crying, falling and breaking apart, and I was scared to be alone, to be by myself and not knowing how to feel, how to act, what to do, afraid to lie in bed and be awake and sleepless. But what about him? How does he feel? How would he feel? I am sure I have done the same with others, I am sure I have rejeted others and made them feel dejected and unwanted, even though I did not intend it.

So we parted on good terms. I said I will miss him, miss his company and warmth. He said he would miss me and would leave to me whether we would meet and under what circumstances. It's not like he is going away or dying, but it feels the premature end of something before it even started...

It hurts, it sure does.

But I will survive. I must. I will. 

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