I've not written a post of concrete material for a long time. It has been a while since I've put my mind to some use; all those mindless conversations while you're drunk, those mindless activities have occupied a major bulk in my vastly empty life since the start of this year.
I had such an ambitious vision a month ago. Right where I'm at now, I envisioned myself to already being hired by my previous media agency, working with my previous employers, having my boss carve out turkey for everyone of us (which I'd awkwardly decline and urge not to make any statement about being pescetarian - a known mistake that I've been making for years and still do. I hate going through why I chose to 'give up one of the best things in life' and have to further debate with people on why 'meat is the best fucking thing on earth, and you're losing out if you're not on it'), truth is, I'm nowhere near my vision. I'm lazing around at home, lying on my queen sized bed (a luxury that will be rudely taken away from me once I head back to Melbourne), having great home-cooked food by the end of the day while I get myself busy for hours on YouTube and Reddit.
On top of that, my imagined checklist is constantly glaring back at me, furious at my choice of life I've decided to embark on, after touching down Singapore. And it keeps reminding me that time is ticking, I'm only left with 2 months here before I leave and jet back to Melbourne again.
This post will now delve into my fears and insecurities, nothing new. Just topping up my milkshake of fears and insecurities with more milkshake and whipped cream, we'll be having this lengthy chat about those 2 bloody suckers.
Next year, 2012, is going to be a scary year. I'd be going through so much changes, I don't know if I'm ready for it. With the constant pain in my ass about having such little time, I'm in a mental state of being in a constant rush; rush to spend more time with my family, withhold the rush NOT to argue with my parents (unless deemed necessary), rush to do something more productive (although nothing productive has come out of it), rush to spend as much time as I can with Zack. The last factor weighs on me the most.
Some days (although happening increasingly and alarmingly frequent), I find myself upset; upset that I only have so little time left to spend with him before... before I leave for Melbourne, before he leaves for Shanghai/Canada. Some days, I get enraged; enraged because I have to go through this when all we ever wanted, is to be a boring couple who gets to stay wherever each other are, fight over petty things like him calling me fat, kiss and make up, and know that we'll still forever be at the same place as we are at for years to come. On good days, I sit and mull over if there's any possible loophole that we could sneak around and then we'd laugh at the odds, light and throw a dynamite at it while we walk away in slow-mo, walk like a black motherfucker gangster would, as the odds burst into flames and explodes, never to be seen again.
Whether we finally get to walk away like badasses is something we'll know in 5 years to come when he's finally done with his studies, whether we've made it through and high-five the living shit out of everybody saying, "THAT WAS EASY, no sweat" when we both know it sucked the living soul out of our body to be in this crazy relationship.
I had such a perfect vision of how we'd be when I got back here. But ever since I've touched down, we've been through our share of fights and I sometimes wonder, what happened to that picture of us? In fact, I blame most of the fights on myself because most of it originates from my own insecurities and fears, that we're not good enough to pull through, that I'm always trying to search for something to strengthen ourselves in case an obstacle appears and we can go, 'ah, fuck you, you little obstacle shit. Out of my way.'
Is it possible to know every single thing about a person? I used to think, 'of course', but now, I'm starting to veer my course the other direction. Will I ever know every minute detail about a person? Is that doable?
I hope to read this in 5 years time and laugh. Laugh at my unsound insecurities and fears that didn't/did came true and know that whatever that happened, I'm still alive, kicking and fucking alive.
