January 28, 2005
Recent contemplations have forced me to come to grips with the reality of my situation. I have barely a month to go before embarking on the second year of my university life and to be honest, the prospect is giving me mixed feelings. I'm not exactly sure how I should be feeling about going back to Melbourne and how appropriate my current feelings are. At best, I can describe them as a mix ; both eager and excited and yet, somewhat wistful. There are still so many things I wish I could do before leaving for Melbourne but somehow, a month doesn't feel enough. Then again, even a year wouldn't be enough really. It wouldn't be enough for the amount of times I want to see my friends and family over and over again, just soaking in their company and aura.
The holiday on hindsight has been a good one. I've managed to pick up guitaring, a hobby I've come to thoroughly enjoy. Seriously, nothing beats just picking up that old wooden 'banjo' and strumming away to familiar tunes I've heard on the radio and television. It's a form of catharsis for me, a way in which I find certain solace ; knowing that the beautiful tunes which stream forth from that piece of wood are my handiwork. I've also been able to progress in my university degree albeit by one module, but hey, it is still some form of advancement. It's good to know that my time in Singapore has not been totally wasted and that some form of constructivitism has been taking place. Something I have to admit though, is that a small part of me, the adventurous side of me is calling out for my return to Australia, probably due to my new housemates and new room on Seascape Avenue.
I've begun to realise certain things about myself which aren't necessarily bad. I've come to a conclusion that who I am is something I can't change, and whether I'm too goody-two-shoes for some people and however that affects my prospects of getting together with someone isn't something I'm going to accomodate to. Recent events have forced me to re-evaluate my once naive standpoint of willingness to accomodate and change for faciliation of a romance or relationship.
The way I see it, to a person who's seen much of the world, who's walked down the streets of vice and lived through it, who's been to every club in town and every party in a year, I may seem like just a wide-eyed naive young boy. But to me, I can hold my head up high and know that I haven't compromised who I am, or what I stand for in how I've lived my life these past 6 years. Granted, I could have just as easily strayed off the beaten path and went down the road of clubs, drinks and becoming just as street smart as a 35-year-old vagrant living in the streets all his life. But I didn't. Why? Because it wouldn't be true to myself. Because it wouldn't hold up against all my inner values and most of all, it'd be evidence that I didn't cherish myself. Something which is so untrue. I love my body, I love my character and most of all, I love what I've become over these past few years ; how I've moulded myself from darkness into...well, relative light.
So I guess that leaves only one option for me. Who says like poles repel each other? In my case, they attract. And far greater than any other combination, at least.
Catharsis. A four year catharsis which hopefully lasts a lifetime. Can it stand the test of time? Let's leave that to the examiner to tell.
Traveller fell apart at 2:00 AM