I feel trapped, lost and clueless as I witness so many tragedies are happening at the moment on top of my personal worries? When can we stop and realize war is never the answer?
I think I made a good choice. I rather have one than to lose both. Letting go is hard, but it’s better than waiting until it gets too attached.
Tonight my heart feels heavy as thousands of thoughts are weighting it down. I’m a coward, let put it like that. I hate meeting people when they are on break, because to me, goodbye is so painful. I know time will heal the wound and fill up the void, but still. I made a good decision today, despite how much I want to see someone because I know deep down in my heart that would create more void and emptiness. The trip to the beach helps a little bit. I can unwind and relax. That was the first time I can do that since the incident. I never shared it before on any social media sites because it’s too scary, too personal. Nonetheless, I need to get it off my chest. So here it goes
(The first night was the scariest. When I finally gather enough courage, perhaps I will share those too.)
Second night started off with a scare, depression and a lot of concerns. At least with some explanation, family and lots of jokes, they managed to go away.
The last two nights were the experience of sleeping on the sofa in the eerie hallway. Second night was much “better” in some ways. At least there was still the Hispanic family to keep me company. We never talked. Indeed we never actually looked into each other eyes as if it’s because we can’t handle seeing any more fears and stress in the other. However, their presences still somehow gave me that warmth and perhaps some hopes as I saw how they stick together as a family to overcome one of the hardest times of their life ( I didn’t realize this until much later.) Fear was still there, but at least second night didn’t have any alarming beep from the machine nor the ambulance siren wailing in the far distance nor waking up every 30 minutes for some critical tests/evaluations. Second night was all about going up and down the glass elevator, searching for an empty spot to spend the night. Second night was all about realizing the sofa could pull out into a flat bed, just enough for a mentally and physically drained individual to rest for a couple hours before rushing back into the room. Second night was all about companies: from the lady who curled up on the sofa in the corner, to the worrying people pacing back and forth on the floor above.
And third night came. As the visitors left early, the place suddenly became this large void space, full of nothing but emptiness. My companions vanished into thin air as if everything was just a lucid dream. The Hispanic family was no where to be found, the sleeping lady was no longer at the sofa. As I desperately searched for the warmth and comfort to fill this vast void space, the loneliness was slowly engulfing me as darkness steadily crept up against the transparent ceiling from above. I fled to my hideout only to realize that I’m alone. The hallways were empty, the atrium was deserted. Every time the elevator went ding, I frantically anticipated for perhaps a companion. But no, it was just people in scrubs dashed around as the police went up and down the building. The creepy silent was restored to its original but was soon broken as the beds were pushed around and the vital signs monitor was constantly beeping. I crawled up on the sofa, hiding under the blanket. As I was drifting in and out of sleep with the loud TV sound in the background, I was suddenly yanked out of sleep without any mercy by loud alert for code blue in Paedic. Footsteps from far away resonated across the hallway. The floor trembled like a poor child. I sat up for a little, looked around. It was only 2 in the morning. The sky was still pitch black and the hallway was pretty much deserted. All of the sudden, I realized I had a companion. Even from the across the room, I can still see the exhaustion and sadness in his face. Perhaps he had a long and rough day like most of the people here.
(At the point, I suddenly lost all my will to continue writing. It’s still too painful and scary to relive those moment)
I just heard something that was so sickening, so upsetting that I couldn’t even sleep. Upon my graduation, someone made a comment that was something along this line ” The parents are so unlucky when their kids go to college than work at a nail salon because apparently kids working at a nail salon are more filial, devoted to the parents than kids who go to college.” I have nothing against working at a nail salon. To me, personally, I respect every single job as long as it’s legal and has good intent. However, for someone to actually have the audacity to say something like that,I’m at a lost of word for their stupidity and ignorant. They must have thought that the knowledge that we gain from our higher education is nothing but garbage. If so, just imagine the world was full of nail technician, but any other occupations. I’m pretty sure, one would find him/herself in a miserable situation pretty soon as there was no farmer to grow food, no doctor/pharmacist/dentist/nurse to treat you disease and most important thing no wise person to slap your face and show you how stupid you are. I’m completely furious, enraged and ASHAMED that a person whom I know and am biologically related to could actually say this.
I don’t want to put this on FB so I’ll just leave it here instead.
It’s shocking to see how 100 days have passed away in a blink of an eye. 100 since a person has gone back to dust and ashes.
I’m sitting in a comfy sofa chair, facing directly toward the large transparent window in the corner of a school building. Outside, the sky is dark and grey. Rain continuously fall from the sky, and it probably won’t stop until Thursday. From my cosy little seat, I can see the top of those faraway trees is swaying in the wind. It’s not loud over here, but there is just enough rustling, footstep and typing noise to make sure that we know everything around us is still alive at some level. I can’t deny the fact that I sort of enjoy this weather-dark, cold and rainy. However, it does look depressing, especially when you keep finding the heart wrenching, depressing news on the internet. I seriously don’t feel like doing anything. I just want to go home, crawl back into my warm comfy bed and sleep. However, it’s impossible especially with the papers that I keep dreading to write. And now I’m sitting here, typing this, reading the news instead of finishing my paper. I guess I’m trying to enjoy life a little bit before all of the chaos happens for the next four year.
provence: france | by clary pfeiffer