Melancholic Derivations

April 06, 2004

Ever heard the saying about a 'blessing in disguise'? Suddenly, that very phrase became tantamount to what I was experiencing. After incessant nagging from my mother, I reluctantly agreed to pack my room ; disposing that which I had no use for anymore and packing the stuff I would want to bring Down Under.

As I lumbered silently on with the task at hand, memories of my teenage years coupled with my childhood hit me like a bullet train. Suddenly, I was thrust back in time, harnessed to a time machine and bungled into a vortex which was my bookshelf. I began first by disposing of all my old FHM issues. Issue by issue I dug up, various covers and bright colours began to show their lustre once more. Pictures of scantily clad women filled the floor of my room and when I finally pulled the last magazine out of the cupboard, I said to myself 'Oh my God'. Why so? Picture this. Twenty issues of FHM on the floor, discounting the equally numerous issues of NewMan I had as well as assorted copies of differing men's magazines. Add the total value of that and you get at least $200 worth of magazines. Had I really spent that disgusting amount on men's magazines alone? My sin had clearly questioned not only my morality but also my frugality.

Then came my BMT Enlistment Letter which I found nestled in the far corner of my bottom drawer. It was a pleasant surprise and a distant memory to say the least. But nonetheless, the feeling of apprehension and expectancy filled my senses once again, this time in anticipation of my release from the Army instead of my enlistment. It was ironic then, that I should find a letter dictating my imprisonment when I approach my ORD with less than 2 months to go.

As I dug further, I found books and notes which I had used back in JC. Things I should have thrown away but kept in hopes that they would one day be of use to me. I know better than that now. They are all down the chute at this point in time. Memoirs and little ornaments decorated my study table although most of them were choked with dust. As I picked each one of them gingerly off their perch to dust them off, I began to feel a sense of nostalgia. It didn't seem long ago that I had received or cherished them and yet, now here they lay, forgotten and seemingly unwanted in the wasteland of my desktop.

Most of the things I found that day, I disposed of. Perhaps it is symbolic then of my need to break free of this life I once led in Singapore and to start anew somewhere else. But as in every heroic epic, there will be something that I shall forever hold on to. Love. To dear Steph, even though I threw away everything else in my room, you are someone I'll never throw away. Because you made me feel special, you made me complete and most of all, you made me realise what true love is about. Thank you so much. I'll never let go.

With this, my heavy heart departs this space in which I pen my thoughts, hopeful of a restful night.

Traveller fell apart at 1:39 AM


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