It's bonfire night tonight... For those who are not familiar with the English tradition, it's all about "Guy Fawkes " and a plot to blow up the Houses of Parliament a few centuries back. Today, people just light up a few fireworks and then go to bed.
If there ever was a tune to define my own existence, it would have to be a mix of this one and this one, and I don't know why, so don't ask me why, it's just how it is.
I went shopping today. I woke up late, but not that late (well, before midday, so that's not really that late, is it?) and I had decided the day before that I would be going shopping, so I did. I went to the nearest shopping mall there is from where I live, which is about 4 tube stations away.
As I was looking at all the clothes on display I realised for the first time that if there is one thing I do love buying, it's underwear. Technically speaking, that's the one thing most people never get to see, since it's hidden under layer upon layer of clothes... but it's so PRETTY. CUTE. LOVELY.
Isn't it?
Come on, it really is beautiful. Lace, satin, frills... I could drown in them all... So tiny and revealing, and yet concealed under more and more clothes...
But as I was sitting on the train back home, I began to look at the people around me, and I felt more and more suffocated by the world in general, and that's because I suddenly remembered my 17th year of life… and I had to try hard not to cry. Even though we went through hell back then, I still had hopes and crazy dreams. I had to be strong, so I was… or I acted as if I was, but I remember that one moment as mum and I were walking down the street - not knowing where we were going - and she was shouting at me for being so soft and weak… in her own words actually “ungrateful and difficult” and that day something broke in my mind itself… I really felt something snap inside my head.
The damage didn’t show right away, because survival instincts were still kicking in… but as soon as I was away from home, whatever ‘home’ meant at the time… That’s when the damage emerged, slowly, but surely.
I don’t care to show the broken parts of me for the whole world to see (because I am, after all, only human), I guess part of me is waiting for the ‘coup de grace’ that never seems to come, and perhaps I have a completely flawed perception of my self in the end. Perhaps I am stronger than I think I am. But that… I cannot say.
The ‘damage’ was that my mind went into sleep mode for a few years. Like hibernation. It really felt back then as if a part of me had truly died. My mind. Yes, that’s right, I thought and believed that my mind had somehow died on me… leaving me to wonder, puzzled and frightened, what the hell was left then if my mind was already dead. I thought the best way forward was to kill the body so that it could catch up with the mind that had already left so soon, and without much of a warning… But at the same time I guess I loved life too much and couldn’t just kill the body.
But… the beauty of the story so far isn’t that I didn’t manage to kill the body, it is the realisation that the mind had never actually died… it was asleep. And that’s why I call the period between my 18th birthday and 25th a coma. Whilst asleep, my mind still observed and took in perceptions and experiences… it just wouldn’t communicate with my being as a whole.
And now that I’m finally awake… I have to adjust to all the things I know so clearly deep down with the way things are in your world.
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