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start, stop, start over again.

I’ve been on a routine these past few days. Lately, days have been like this: listen to a podcast, drink my Forever Nuts, go for a run, do some drumming, listen to some opera, sell some shit online, be productive in general and then maybe I’ll go find some friends. I think I’ve been putting way too much on my plate though. I get home at the end of the night feeling so tired and drained. Thank god my tattoo artist cancelled on me this week. I’m also thankful for a couple of cancellations from friends too. I had double-books and I just didn’t have the energy to handle everything. At least I’ve been sleeping well these past few days. Extremely well, actually. I’ve been sleeping a consistent and uninterrupted 9 hours every night, since I got sick. Hallelujah. Have to say that I feel on top of the world when I wake up. I hope this lasts for a while.

I wonder how people with a nine-to-five job find enough time for themselves. I feel like I just have enough hours in the day to do everything I want and I’m barely working during the week. I’ve recently been feeling really fortunate about being a part of this gig economy. I have the luxury of time to spend each day doing some learning, working out, socializing, and being creative. I really want to maintain a balance between all those things but I don’t think I’d be able to do it working a normal job. I’ve definitely been taking things as they come. I live day-by-day and I wonder if I’m eventually going to trip up. There are so many things I want but I know I can’t have everything.

The snow’s super beautiful today but I hope it doesn’t cause trouble cause we’re heading out to Ottawa in a few hours. I’ll be spending the weekend with a new group of people. I’m very interested to see how the group dynamic’s going to be like. I’m pretty sure my perfect sleep-streak is going to end here though.

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real aching guts

I’m feeling really sick to my stomach. Don’t know what’s wrong with me. It hurt so much I had to stop what I was doing and lay down for a bit and now I’m here. Feel’s like something’s churning up inside me and my head’s trying to mirror the motions. I hope I don’t have a virus or something.

Before all this, I was spending the night trying to organize my things. I just got home. Home-home. I’ve been unpacking my travel bags and I’ve just started pulling out the trinkets I’ve collected that remind me of special moments on the trip. Oddly, I brought home a lot of masks. It’s been tough trying to make space between the other knick-knacks I already have. There are a lot. Maybe too many because I’m a sentimental fool. But I love my miscellany and I can’t imagine ever letting it go. While putting my memories on the shelf and until now, I had something ringing clear in my head. I had just received an e-mail about my uncle in Malaysia who had just fallen off the stairs, broke his head and died. I don’t know how to respond to it and I don’t know how I’m feeling about it. We weren’t close but our interaction with each other was quite recent and it really shakes me up how real death is. He had sent me off at the airport when I was there last month. It was just me and him. I was running late so I had rushed out of the car when we arrived but he parked his car and found me afterwards. We had typical surface-level conversation while we walked around. Again, we weren’t close but I had lived and spent a lot of time with him everytime I was in Malaysia for the past three years. When I spotted a bookstore, I told him there was something I wanted to pick up. He started to follow me towards it and feeling guilty, I told him that he didn’t have to wait for me and I’d be fine on my own. He quickly took me on that offer and we exchanged quick goodbyes. It was casual. Even at the moment I thought it was too casual but I assured myself I’d see him soon. We always assume we’ll see people again. I thought Marshall was going to live forever. Getting that e-mail really just puts things in perspective. Like dying fruits in that Bacchus painting. Momento Mori, am I right? I don’t want to squander my time; I want to spend more of it with the people I love. But here I am, useless, in pain and unable to move. What kind of sick joke is this…

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tunnel vision

When I look back to my favorite photos, most of them are single point perspective shots. What is it? Lack of creativity? Habit? Tunnel vision?

I’m thinking it’s obsession.

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fire ants

We were sitting by the fire the other day, watching an army of ants frantically scramble out of a log that we had just thrown in as fuel. They were scrambling in panic over a small surface, back and forth between the end of the log and the flames. We asked each other if we should pull the log out but we ended up telling ourselves that they’d be fine and they would find a way to crawl down. But there was hesitation. I realized that we hesitated a few seconds too long when they started falling off the log. It almost looked like they were synchronized, jumping off one-by-one. (Do ants jump?) Not sure if they were dropping because they were trying to get away or if they were getting confused and losing consciousness from the smoke. Also not sure if they were falling into the flames.

I’ve been thinking about these ants for the last couple of days. I feel oddly sentimental and guilty. These feelings are a little strange considering that I didn’t feel much remorse about a dragonfly that I caught which I then fed to a spider. Don’t know how I can come to terms with my actions in one situation but not my non-action in the other.

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starry-eyed side gig

Just landed in Bangkok. I’m on double-dose on melatonin tonight so I’m here while these tabs dissolve. I got pressured into having a few sips of green tea because it was bought for me. I don’t seem to learn from my mistakes.

“Liz, you ever consider that you are a side gig?”

//

A friend told me something a week ago that I can’t get off mind. I was telling him about some things that are going on and he was laughing at me… a lot. Not because of what I was saying was comical or ridiculous, but because, as he says, I’m at a point in life where everything still has so much meaning and that I’m over-thinking the things that people do and say. He told me that not everything has as much substance as I currently think and it’ll wear with age. That sounds frightning, actually.

“Why are you laughing?”

He told me that it was a nice thing to see, kind of seeing himself in my shoes kind of thing and that he missed those kind of days where everything around had so much meaning and purpose. He said that now he was 30+, him and anyone around his age knows exactly what they want while I’m in my mid-twenties, still figuring things out as if everything’s a puzzle. I think he might be right. I was pretty sure of what I’ve wanted in life until having some wholesome chats with these 30-something-year-olds. I guess I must have stars in my eyes or something.

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stomach aches all day; insomnia all night.

Apart from the typical lack of sleep, my body has been having a really hard time handling the food in Southeast Asia. I love SE Asian flavours, especially Thai and Malay food, but can’t say that my stomach does. I’ve been having to rush to the washroom everyday, sometimes multiple times a day and it strikes at random times. Eternal diarrhoea. It sucks. I’ve never had so much Asian food back-to-back-to-back. Especially Chinese food. And I hate most Chinese food. Both in terms of taste and how my body handles it. It’s too greasy. I hate hot pot. I hate stir fry and kung pao chicken and steamed veggies. I especially hate Magic Noodle. Sorry guys but fuck Magic Noodle. Dim Sum’s the only exception. But yes, I’ve been eating way too much Chinese food in Asia because it’s basically the only thing the folks around me eat. Both friends and family. I’ve made strong mentions that my body is having trouble with the greasy foods and yet I’m still being taken out to hawker centers. Blah. But I take it because I rather not drag anyone down. I’m such a pushover. I think my body is too used to having Western meals as its main diet. I haven’t had a nice Western meal since Singapore when I was playing it safe the days leading up to my marathon run. I’m patiently waiting until I can have a nice refined Western meal or at least some fusion. I’ve really been enjoying the sweets here though! They’re always a safe option for me. Been having a lot of chendol, ais kachang and kueh. Oh my god, the taste of childhood. You betcha that ABC meant a very different thing for me when I was a kid. I was pretty bummed out last week because I really wanted to eat apam balik but all places I found online were closed but friends+family surprised with a ton of them when I woke up.

I’m making a note to mention some other occasional positive things:

It’s nice to wake up to a hot cup of milo with nothing scheduled for the day. I’m sitting next to a jungle with roosters crowing in the background. This is nice. Caught a multi-eyed butterfly which was stuck indoors and helped it get out this morning. The poor thing kept smashing itself into the windows. And now I’m off to have some roti paratha for breakfast.

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dependency.

I’ve been a little too dependant on melatonin these last few days. It’s bad. Now it’s tough falling asleep without it and it feels too good to let it up so easily. I sound like I’m on meth. I’m currently fighting the urge to take it tonight but I’m not doing very well.

S. & M. told me that my blog has been really depressing lately. I haven’t really realized how dismal it was until I scrolled through it. Jeez. 80-year old future-me is going to be very disappointed. I guess the majority of times I come here, I’m either 1) in a bad mood because I can’t sleep; 2) ranting or complaining about something or 3) posting a poem I thought up while I was in bad mood because I couldn’t sleep. Should I start putting in some positive things on here? Is this blog really for me? Or is this for the public?

Who fucking knows.

Someone else said to me this week:

“Question is: should I be reading them? I know it sounds silly but to me it sounds like a diary and I feel that it pretty personal… I dunno? Doesn’t feel right to me.”

Didn’t realize I was affecting people with such negative feelings. It definitely has a much different response than my previous blogs… I don’t know what I’m going to do with this reception but I guess I’ll keep it in mind. I don’t think it’ll stop me from writing depressing poems or ranting but I’m starting to question the whole theme of inpsalmnia. Is it really conducive to anything or anyone?

cont’d in the next post…

password: name the best bird.