3.49pm 2 July 2007 Monday
I've just finished reading John Grogan's Marley and Me, in one sitting, and for the second time. The tears that followed the end of the novel were irrepressible and evoked me to write something to cover the silence in my head. It has been more than two months since I last wrote and even without many things happening, I feel like I'm a changed person.
H was talking to his mum today about our upcoming flight back home and I was drooling over the thought of filling up my stash of Pocky snacks when I suddenly realised that we were flying direct from Frankfurt, and would not be stopping in Narita as I had for the past four summers.
Isn't it funny how the smallest, most insignificant thing can make you realise a part of your life is over? I've been writing about change and growing up since the move to Dekalb, but so far it has been realisation, not acceptance, of change. I can still see the vivid blue skies and golden sunshine; the glorious reds, pinks, orange and purple sunsets that I've always wanted to photograph but never got around to doing so; and the majestic sight of the Santa Catalina, Rincon, Santa Rita and Tucson Mountains that surround Tucson area, all in my mind's eye. I can still feel the biting, numbing cold of my first Midwest winter; the crisp air that hurts your nose and lungs to breathe; and the soft caress of a snowflake falling onto an open palm.
Before we left the apartment this morning, H asked if I was sure if I wanted to lug five books with me, although I was only going to a nearby cafe for an hour or two. I had picked two Su Doku books, the aforementioned Marley and Me, Chronicles of Narnia and Jin Yong's Xiao Ao Jiang Hu, and was excited to spend a lazy day losing myself in books. H and I met about halfway through the book for a quick lunch break, when I realised how good it felt to be reading again. Don't get me wrong - I read every day. I devour newspaper articles; I read blogs; I even read sides of cereal boxes. The written word is so ubiquitous in daily life that it is nearly impossible to avoid reading. But to utterly wrap yourself in someone else's world and thoughts for hours is a completely different thing. It is, other than talking, the closest you can get under someone else's skin and walk around in it.
As I interact with bits and pieces of the international stage, the same bits and pieces within me evolve. And perhaps this is why I had the sudden desire to write - maybe that way you can get under my skin, walk around it for a bit and tell me how I feel. It is as if I am half inside and half outside my body. My eyes see the clouds before me, but yet my hands pecking away at the keyboard don't feel like they are part of the same body. There are thoughts swirling round and round my head with memories intercepting each other, and stills from scenes I've seen whizzing through like a whirring slideshow of photographs.
Who am I? What am I doing? Where am I going? When is the right time? Why am I in this time/space combination? How do I take the next step forward?
I have had a recurring dream where I am being chased (for different reasons each time) and I run with all my might. I feel each movement through thick, sluggish, gel-like air, and I can't move any faster despite my soul pressing hard against my body, dying to push ahead. The pursuer and destination are inconsequential, but the claustrophobic feeling of not being able to move any faster is akin to what I feel right now, mentally.
The basic premise of life is rather simple - eat and rest. How you get to those two things fill up the rest of your time and the way you get there fill up the time outside your life as memories of others' lives. The meandering route I've taken to write this post is perhaps a good reflection of my thoughts right now - equal parts past, present and future.
Macht nichts. Es hat viele spass gemacht. It feels like, regardless of outcome, that each step I choose and take is a step closer to untying the Gordian knot called my life. How are you resolving yours?
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