the sun now sets at 21:12.
the first i was ever in a summer night on a summer solstice was 3 years ago, in June. I suffered from a terrible jetlag and loneliness that sleep was difficult. Thinking about it, it was probably the loneliness that made sleep so elusive. Only a day into that different world and i already felt lonely.
but work has to go on and in the morning, i still had to clock in, had usher people in and out of the tour bus, take their photos, take down notes, ask relevant question, pull my jacket tighter when the summer breeze blew, tell everyone 'i'm-really-easily-cold' when they gave me bewildered looks seeing me cringe at the summer breeze, try to be useful, try to appear important.
truth is, the moment i hit puberty, i have been thinking of disappearing in this world.
no, it never involved suicide,though i would admit i did have countless of suicidal thoughts, the worst of them was happened i gave birth to my eldest, and the latest was last in December of last year. I trace both to postpartum depression; which might be true of the former, the latter, something i had to concoct because i could not think of any reason. There are days when the best feeling i could think of was the feeling of disappearing. at that time, when the feeling hit me, all i wanted was to briefly disappear. Maybe rest is the most appropriate word--rest but i remain invisible, at least for a week. However, people who chased that brief moment of disappearance realize only far too late that suicide is permanent and they simply cannot just walk back in like that.
I was at the beach and i settled my 11-month old son on the sand. he squirmed when his feet touch the gritty wet, black, sand, still warm from the late afternoon sun. I thought that if i walked further up the water i can just disappear. i kissed him several times and when i was about to go, a tricycle revving its engine appeared. it was full of a bunch of noisy people, whom i surmised was a troop of super-extended family. my son wailed at the sound of the tricycle engine and i came to his rescue, picked him up from the sand and cuddled him on my lap. he held on the neckline of my shirt like so tight i could have stood up and let him and he would still be hanging there like a pendulum.
"Let's us get back home," i told him like he'd understood. I put on the baby carrier and packed him in and started our way back. he placed his small hand on my face and left a handprint of sand. he squealed. he was happy, i guess, that we are both making our way back.
- FIN -
the first i was ever in a summer night on a summer solstice was 3 years ago, in June. I suffered from a terrible jetlag and loneliness that sleep was difficult. Thinking about it, it was probably the loneliness that made sleep so elusive. Only a day into that different world and i already felt lonely.
but work has to go on and in the morning, i still had to clock in, had usher people in and out of the tour bus, take their photos, take down notes, ask relevant question, pull my jacket tighter when the summer breeze blew, tell everyone 'i'm-really-easily-cold' when they gave me bewildered looks seeing me cringe at the summer breeze, try to be useful, try to appear important.
truth is, the moment i hit puberty, i have been thinking of disappearing in this world.
no, it never involved suicide,though i would admit i did have countless of suicidal thoughts, the worst of them was happened i gave birth to my eldest, and the latest was last in December of last year. I trace both to postpartum depression; which might be true of the former, the latter, something i had to concoct because i could not think of any reason. There are days when the best feeling i could think of was the feeling of disappearing. at that time, when the feeling hit me, all i wanted was to briefly disappear. Maybe rest is the most appropriate word--rest but i remain invisible, at least for a week. However, people who chased that brief moment of disappearance realize only far too late that suicide is permanent and they simply cannot just walk back in like that.
I was at the beach and i settled my 11-month old son on the sand. he squirmed when his feet touch the gritty wet, black, sand, still warm from the late afternoon sun. I thought that if i walked further up the water i can just disappear. i kissed him several times and when i was about to go, a tricycle revving its engine appeared. it was full of a bunch of noisy people, whom i surmised was a troop of super-extended family. my son wailed at the sound of the tricycle engine and i came to his rescue, picked him up from the sand and cuddled him on my lap. he held on the neckline of my shirt like so tight i could have stood up and let him and he would still be hanging there like a pendulum.
"Let's us get back home," i told him like he'd understood. I put on the baby carrier and packed him in and started our way back. he placed his small hand on my face and left a handprint of sand. he squealed. he was happy, i guess, that we are both making our way back.
- FIN -
