this was just like every other camp: the-night-before-anxiety hit me full on like twenty textbooks, i dragged myself and tried to cheer up, butter cup, made one friend, changed my mind about how god awful this was supposed to be, fell in love with the warmth of everyone, blinked back the tears when the goodbyes came, and made my way home.
this is just like every other camp: the people were so different from the last, but i loved them anyway. i loved the way we’d have our nightly feasts, calories be damned. i loved the ways we’d play cat and mouse, bated breaths and flushed cheeks pressed against closet doors when someone was rapping, rapping at our chamber door. i loved the way we’d banter with one another, exasperated laughter and poker faces meeting the most awful jokes ever. i loved the way we’d have each other’s back, you telling me to sleep even if i hadn’t done enough, or the way we’d give our all even if exhaustion made itself home on our eyelids.
this might just be like every other camp, when we drift apart because we’re all so busy, and live across the country from each other. maybe your faces will start to blur a little in my mind and maybe your names won’t curl as comfortably around my tongue, but this is enough. you made me happy these for days, and i don’t think i’ll forget the taste of this love on my tongue, not ever.
it made me want to live, even if just for a while. and i’m thankful enough.
babes, this love will never end: my heart will always love you
my heart is as heavy as my schoolbag and the guilt from yet-to-be-forged test papers. these days slipping into my depression is as easy as sleeping into my problems. look on the bright side they say, so i do. my australian friend sleeps six hours on a regular basis but here in singapore i sleep four hours. (three in the morning and one in lectures because my eyes are weighed down by the weariness bore from days of juggling a test every other day. my stomach churns like the sea deranged, slosh slosh slosh and i have to press my lips together lest oceans pour out of my eyes and rivers up my parched throat.) dreaming is a foreign concept but when i do i see quiet, hear the way the sky is blue and the grass, green, and i can feel the sweetness in the air and taste the joy in my heart.
when i come to, my pillow is damp.
i plunge headfirst into schoolwork.
something tells me that the sweet taste of eternal freedom from bigoted fuckers who use triggered like my fears are your fucking joke, chemistry tutorials that i am magically able to do after my lecturer reads out my notes out like Jacob Sartorius’ latest flops, inconsiderate public transport users who scuff my white shoes trying to win musical chair in the 8am rush and a life i care nothing for is what i crave most.
bloody let me burn in my frustration fueled tears like lava running down my cheeks. i am mount vesuvius burying my depression anxiety feelings personality under the influx of D grades over-commitments (un)reasonable homework. my tear tracks are dead springs that come alive, anger hatred despair snaking across my face but i can never conceal this hate in me.
it is of utmost importance that you rest as much as you work, drones the official clad in grey as she talks about how all work and no play makes jack a dull boy and jill a dull girl.
there are muted snores puffing from the hall of students, bags clutched tightly against chests. beside me, the top class drag their pens across chemistry practicals like weary oxes ploughing up and down the fields. my eye twitches as i remember how i haven’t opened my writing blog since forever (at least a monday has passed and the law of mondays still apply). there are so many instances when the depression spills up above my throat into my mouth spilling onto worktables like wave breaking on the seabed, but i have no time to spare when i am juggling a proposal, three
individual group projects, three tutorials and two lectures reading, all due yesterday. the number beside Write grows larger everyday, stuffed full with empty words (writing reflects your soul, and that’s true because i am just a hollow shell full of Pretentious Poetry that means absolutely nothing to my future in the tiny red dot of Science Field Careers. )
these days i feel like my skin is stretching across my flesh like a snake bursting out of its skin. every morsel of food tastes a little more bitter than the last and the calculator in my head is a lottery machine from how fast the numbers whizz. the irony weighs heavy on my tongue when i remember that i am time starved and running round the clock, one lap two laps three laps GO FASTER GO FASTER here in singapore we do 30 hours of work in 24.
i don’t recognize the man in the mirror. no amount of asking will change her ways my ways our ways. if you wanna make the world a Better Place, then look at yourself, and crawl to bed.
to wake up at 3am later to finish math.
drink and drown the pain away: slip your tongue in my mouth and lick away all my worries
I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU THINK OF ME OR HOW I SHOULD FEEL ABOUT YOU.
you’d slip your arms round my shoulder and i never noticed. we hit off like a house on fire,
Continue reading “IN LIMBO”