| Current mood: |  drained |
run
was out for a run just a half hour ago. on the way back, from afar, i tilted my head towards my house and my eyes hit my room windows, both perpetually wide open, to let the cool monsoon wind in. my thoughts went for a swim. i realised no more than 5 people in my lane know who i am, much less seen my face, or heard my voice. they don't know that the girl who lives behind those windows is more than a living, breathing carbon entity who walks the usual route home from the bus stop situated down the hill over there. they don't know her dreams, her fights, her fortunes, her goodness, her secrets, her cravings, her longings, her past-present-future, her could-have-beens, her never-will-bes. these thin, sound-proof windows provide the perfect insulation against the outside world. these yellow-painted brick walls serve to box the living, breathing carbon entity. in return, these windows and bricks don't give off a word. nobody will know. shhhh.
most of the time, we are so quick to judge that which we can see, and sometimes even that which we can't -- we judge what we hear. we hear the music filtering from this girl's room on a cold weekday night and, ironically, we brand her an unusual person who refuses to be branded (as anything remotely mainstream). we hear that she doesn't sleep till 5am everyday (tsktsk, must be up to no good!). we eavesdrop on her conversations held on a chair by her window, and we say that she's nothing more than a lackadaisical, stubborn, haphazard little girl who hasn't yet gotten her affairs in order. on a good day, she says something with a hint of intelligence. on most days, she's either boring or busy typing away at her laptop. these youngsters nowadays, forever on the laptop, don't know what they're up to.
while this particular youngster is living her modern day life with modern day dreams that are fueled by modern day realities, this particular youngster also ponders how many other youngsters are behind their windows and brick walls. just along this lane. just this lane. she is curious to know, but then again, she will never know, because the walls don't speak.
and while the walls that face outward are thicker than those inside, the thickest wall that she would love to have is that which separates my room from the devil's. it would be hypocritical of me to say that my neighbours could take the effort to get to know each other, as long as the devil resides across from me.
i have given up on trying to protect what i own, because i guess time after time, it's just God breaking in and removing my hangups. it is time to stop letting my possessions possess me.
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