As I jogged in the cooless around the basketball court, tears welled up in my eyes, rolling down my cheeks as I ran under the coconut trees.

I felt safe. Like I could be myself. Where I don't have to be strong. Nor have to put a front like I am a heroine. I gave a silent thank you to the trees watching down on me.

As I went about the curved stones pavement, a couple was sitting in the dark by the playground.
I felt a tinge of envy - having a close, intimate conversation in the dark, fingers intertwined with each other. What are they talking about? Insecurities? Fear? I wouldn't know. But I would have loved to do this with someone.
To be able to bare all your insecurities, your fears, your aspirations to someone who understands you, who embraces you, is willing, and is on the journey with you. In my head, I wished them best of luck, and I hope they are truly happy.

I was back at the side of the basketball court when the music I was listening to reached the chorus. More tears streamed down as I started down the slope. A woman stood by at the side of the grass. I hoped my tears on my cheeks looked like perspiration. I continued my look of resolution and continued my path.

Before Sunrise

I watched this show after hearing C talk about it for the umpteenth time.

This is the first show where I fall in love with every single sentence they speak.

It seemed like the directors or producers were producing a show from their very own personal experience.

They showed the genuine, mundane worries and random thoughts in a beautiful way I never thought could be.

Why does it seem like they have it all thought out-that actually everything comes down to nothing?

Loneliness

Everyone is lonely in one way or another, don't you think?

But its how they choose to see it, or spend their time differently that makes the difference.

I have not been independent for a long, long time.

On the external, I look like I am. But inside, I am like this sponge that upon receiving something, grows bigger and bigger, until it consumes itself.

I am not ok, but i want to be ok with it.

How do I start dealing with myself when I find out that I am still learning things about myself everyday?

I thought I had it all figured out. I thought I knew everything about myself.
But turns out, nope.

As I marched forward from my job and leapt to an unknown place, I carried everything with me: my passion, my energies, my soul.

Only when I discovered that while it means that I put in my 100% in my work,
it also means that there is 0% left of me.
What's left, after I peel away the layers of work and work and work?
What's left when work has ended and when you're all alone by yourself?

That explains why, after work, the urge to rush to somewhere to do something, with someone.

I have forgotten the essence of self-care.

What do I like? Things that I really really like? Things that I do without feeling like I am wasting time? Things that sing to my soul?

The chase of something represents a missing part of me, something I thought that I would find in someone, something, somewhere.

But all along, it is inside me - something that I have to hone, nurture, cultivate.

Something that is resistant and undisturbed to the external forces of people, everyday happenings, everyday work life, everyday friends and colleagues, everyday news.

I have been trying to practise the art of detachment more than ever to objectively view and assess myself, my thoughts, my feelings. And  I would say that this feeling of being alone, strikes me as being vulnerable, being naked, being exposed. Though it is liberating, the sense of fear is there.
And, I want to be okay with it.

You were my safe space. But I chose to leave.

At this phase of life where I am, it is time where I want to come to terms with... myself.

You were my safe space for a good 4.5 years.

We braved through thick and thins, all weather; good or bad, snowy or sunny.

You were always there for me, a well of words, a blanket of comfort.

A space where I went to when I felt lower than the dumps, a space I went to to share my ultimate joys.

But yet I wanted more, and I was taking you for granted.

I wanted to want you all the time. I didn't want love to become a commitment; or a chore, for all it was.

I loved you deeply and through. But I wanted more... 

I wanted to feel excited when I see you, I want to feel happy and in love.

I did not want to be unfair to you, nor myself.

I did not want to waste any more time of yours, nor mine.

That was why, I chose to leave.

I think I left in a slipshod manner, kind of in a hurry.

The silhouette of what we had still stands there in time, in the most hidden corners of me. 

Something hiding, something present, yet.. it isnt.

Sometimes, most of the times actually, I feel like I need to go somewhere, be with someone, to do something.

Then I realise that I have taken this path.

And, I want to be okay with being alone, sometimes doing nothing, and being okay with myself; without a desire to want to rush off to somewhere, to do something, or be with someone.

And so this journey starts.

And I wish myself luck.

Back to Ground 0.

"I didn't know I was slowly, unconsciously; but surely damaged.

You picked me up when I was in pieces.

Day by day, you painstakingly stitched up the confused parts - the parts that make me.

The parts, though broken, formed something beautiful.

It hinted of a beautiful ending.
Though the broken lines could be seen under a bright sun light, it brought out a vague, promising picture I never knew exisited.

You never complained though the parts seem to never end.

At times, you prick yourself. You stop, but you urge yourself to continue.

You believe that the end will be beautiful. 

However, the seasons change.

The same wind is now blowing. The wind that brought us together. 

But this time it blows in the other direction.

The stitched parts that you painstakingly sewed seem to falter in the wind.

Some fall broken to the ground, scraping the surface unwillingly, before coming to a stop.

You hold the remaining pieces of me in your hand."

0.5

"Today I woke up a little later than usual.

I sat in the living room and waited  for the morning to sink in.

My half opened laptop sat on my study table, with the late morning light streaming in.

It suddenly brought me back to days when I had to force myself up from the living room cushion at 630 in the morning to squeeze out something for C.

I remember the dread (and slight fear of not being able to produce) and the pure tiredness that filled my body. I remember the bright orange light from the table lamp shining on my laptop screen, I would be frantically clicking at my screen.
I see myself hunched over the laptop in the darkness (all except from the laptop and table lamp), and awhile later, I would be slouched over the table, head in my arms,  laptop screen still, no clicking sounds.
Everyone in the family would have left for work hours later, while I slept.
At about 8, I would get up (again) from the sofa, cursing, swearing and hating myself.
My sister would see me and say, you should have slept in the room instead. Isn't this worse.

I've come back to reality.
I am out of that phase.
That phase of trying to have my own style, yet restricted by comments.
I took them to me, to my work.

Now, I won't let them affect me anymore.

And no, I don't want to go back to those days.

Those days of sheer criticisms, condescending remarks, and living like a pathetic soul."

- Excerpt 0.5