It's Christmas Eve.
You're 14,800 kilometres away but I've not felt so loved and wanted in such a long time. For some people, distance serves to alienate and separate, but ironically, with you, it has brought the two of us closer together, due to the necessity of a clearer channel of communication, the greater need to reach out to affirm this bond we tentatively, unintentionally ended up forging.
Your words and your kindness wrap around my heart like a fuzzy wool blanket, and all I want to do for the moment is lie down and luxuriate in this sensation, for the moment.
Yes, it's just due to endorphins and I know this will not last, but to actually have the pleasure of having known all this affection this year is just an... amazing feeling.
Merry Christmas to the rest of you reading this blog. May this holiday season be one filled with love and light and happiness, and may 2015 usher in better things for all of us.
It's Christmas Eve.
Posted by CreativeBitchin at 11:22
There are no words to actually describe how much I miss you or the summer we shared.
No regrets, I said to you, but my heart protests at the empty space next to me that used to be your comforting presence.
I give myself three weeks for this to fade, I said; so much bravado. Three months on and all I am is this wistful longing.
Posted by CreativeBitchin at 18:27
I've been going through old blog posts recently, because a new friend asked for the URL to this little domain I call my own, and I really couldn't remember the last time I wrote something here that I could be proud of.
Posted by CreativeBitchin at 14:26
I've been waking sore, on most mornings, as a result of my daily exertions.
|All smiles, shortly before we got attacked by prawns lurking amongst the rocks... -_- Image credits: Felicity|
|My standard hike kit. Stole this photo off the cousin's Facebook post.|
In other (unsurprising) news, I think I am adjusting pretty well to your absence. It's a hundred and ten days since you first voiced out that crazy idea of of yours, which I so recklessly agreed to. I'm not sure if I'm supposed to stop keeping track of these things, considering the current circumstances.
Yeah, I do miss your enthusiasm for the things I no longer have the idealism to believe in, and the million and one moments of warped humour we share, but life feels like a tidal wave now... time waits for no-one, and just so easily, it slowly washes away the foot-prints you left in the sphere of my existence.
I never thought it would be this easy. It scares me a little.
Posted by CreativeBitchin at 11:06
This is a pill millipede. It is not a pill-bug, even though they have developed the same defence measure against threats (by rolling into a ball) through this amazing thing called convergent evolution. Pill millipedes are classified under the superorder Oniscomorpha, and have eleven to thirteen segments. This particular specimen was found on one of my hikes (Wallace Trail, up Bung Muan a.k.a. Bukit Peninjau), and was fortunate it didn't get tenderly placed in a "safe" place by my well-meaning animal-lover friend. Two of its brethren ended up rolling a fair distance downhill the week before due to such kind sentiments.
Anyway, today I just feel like doing that - curl up into a tight ball and pretend the outside world does not exist. Such a self-absorbed, self-pitying emotion, and I won't pretend I am getting rather impatient and irritated at my extend duration of intermittent emo. I've grown to despise Whingy Irene, and I think Emotional Irene is pathetic, so I deleted the post I initially wrote, to replace it with a picture of possibly the cutest variety of millipede ever (yes, I just called a leggy invertebrate "cute").
On the topic of millipedes, I've been seeing heaps of them on hikes lately, because it is the rain season... these fellows love the humidity. 'Pedes are common on the tropical jungle trails I take, of course, but for the past few weeks we've been observing a way larger amount of them just casually ambling along, in so many different forms and even more amazingly, bursts of colour.
A particular specimen that I photographed last week (image just above), the silvery plated individual I found (along with another of its kin) along the trail to Gunung Gading's Waterfall 7 seems to be a favourite with my friends for its very industrial-looking aesthetics. This species does not curl up in self-defence; five minutes spent on prodding and flipping it over with a twig only resulted in it walking off away from me rather unhurriedly.
Just below this paragraph is this rather flamboyant giant-sized millipede that is my favourite, so far. With its gaudy colouration of black, pink and yellow, friends have gone as far as to nickname this species as "the Elton John millipede" and even "Beyoncepede".
|Spirobolida (Image credits: Alvin K)|
Not too sure if this one has the habit of curling up but I read somewhere that it releases a foul liquid in response to threats that whilst is not toxic to humans, isn't exactly something you want to touch either, so it's a case of just appreciating its beauty from a distance.
I'd really love a terrarium with just these three species inhabiting it though, they're so diverse in shape, size, and colour, yet pretty much require the same diet (decomposing plant matter) and living conditions. I do wonder, however, if a tank full of these different species might result in fighting for territory? Not too familiar with their habits in this regards.
Anyway this has been rather therapeutic. What started out as a whingy load of self-pity has somehow gone off on a tangent into an enthusiastic description of these many-legged creatures... what a nature nerd hah.
Ya know what? I shall aspire to charge through the depressive fog of the past few days, with all the single-mindedness of that stoic little silver 'pede, and just keep going and going and going and going instead of being a total wuss sitting here blubbering in front of my PC.
Posted by CreativeBitchin at 16:43
"You don't have to "deal" with it you know, I mean, how do you "deal" with it... you kinda live it through," the cousin tells me.
I know that, but what I meant to say is, I'm not living anything through, what with the current escapist route I've taken.
I've had pets die, friends die, family die, even ex-lovers abruptly passing on. I've always accepted, no matter how badly devastated I have been, that the dead are dead, and are no longer here with me, as depressing as that acceptance is.
With you it's different. You know, I used to scoff at tales where parents leave the bedroom of a dead child as it was, for years and years, unchanged and untouched, just because it feels like their deceased offspring might just return home one day.
I scoff too much at these things, I think. Maybe it's bad karma, because I end up experiencing the same pain, sooner or later.
I'm not moving on. At all. It doesn't feel like your death has actually sunken in yet. Most days, I wake up expecting you to barrel in onto me. Every creak in the house makes me feel like I'm not alone, as if you're just hiding from me somewhere, ready to ambush me when I'm relaxed and not expecting you to do so.
I've been busy with work, with non-stop hikes over consecutive days... exhausted and sore and sleep-deprived, so I no longer have the capacity to think or feel.
What I do not tell anyone is my phone memory is running out of space, and I usually clear out my photos and videos every few weeks, but I've not even dared to scroll through old files because there are too many images of you, photos of you being so lively and so there, videos of the things you do to make me laugh...
I can't scroll through old posts on Instagram because I'll come across #littlemissalyx posts.
It's as if pretending you're on extended holiday away from me, and not thinking too hard about you, or the circumstances of your passing, will save me the pain of acknowledging you're gone.
And I don't know how to snap out of this self-denial.
The time differences are tiring me, the silences are getting longer, and I am too exhausted to rectify that. I'm finding that I'm out of words, for the moment, for either of you.
Juggling as many as I can - filling up my time beyond fullest capacity; it's a dangerous game, I'm sure to drop a ball one day.
I'm sick of keeping confidences, sick of secrets, sick of dealing with this alone. I need a friend who'd understand, but I think the decisions I've made are not exactly fathomable by anyone except myself.
I'm not so sure if honesty has been any better on my heart... might lose friends in the process, or even family. Maybe that's already happening. Maybe in acquiescing to your persuasion, I've been set on path where there's quite a lot to lose, and we don't quite know what the conclusion will be just yet, and if the price to pay was worth it.
Someone once reiterated to me over and over again, "The truth will set you free." Does it, really? So much melodrama over the things none of us ever really had any control over. I'd say it was unfair, but then again, so much of life thus far, hasn't exactly felt compliant to any definition of justice.
I won't regret any of my decisions. I did not do wrong when I chose love over apathy. I have lived in carefully-cultivated indifference for so long to know how it gradually erodes away at the spirit, and it was you who reignited my desire for something more than this carefully-moderated handful of muted emotions.
As rational as that train of thought is, it does not make me feel any less shitty about the eventual sacrifices that have to be made. If only we could have it all, but life has a way of taking as much as it gives. Maybe my earlier statement was inaccurate - there might just be a rhyme and reason to what you gain and lose in the course of figuring out an existence, I don't know.
Either way, I suppose that in looking out for myself, in embracing something that felt like something good for me, I've come across as being selfish, and it'd do me good to brace myself for more recrimination to come.
Posted by CreativeBitchin at 16:50
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