Tangibilities and other things

Dear Topsie-turvie,

There is a solid reason why I gifted you with that name. The events in my life, be it fortunate or not are disarrayed and always in a topsy turvily manner hence the name. Conjuring the days when I brought you into this world, things were so.. different. I haven't the right words to vividly portray how different things were then but it is. Not in a shady light of negativity, I simply must grow accustom to these changes in my life.

You know Topsie-turvie, sometimes without knowing, my feelings are numbed and I trudge on the ground not feeling anything. When that happens, I would try my hardest to relinquish the numbness and find a way to feel again. I haven't the slightest idea why this is happening. Every time I get passionate about something, I would always do a mental draft and stash it in the recesses of my mind, promising myself to write about it. But after a while, it gets muddled up with my other peculiar thoughts thus making it in the end sort of... intangible. I get really gutted you see, cos I remembered how the excitement felt and the feeling still lingers within but sadly, I lost the vigour to word it down.

Which explains the brazen void from August till well..now. Someone told me I should carry a little notebook and jot things down when I chance upon something that sparks my interest. Certainly not a bad idea and maybe I should give it a try. It is quite worrying especially now that I've started my course. I am expected to construe poetry, paintings, literary text etc. freely and with my current problem, it would be a great hindrance in the future. I need to be passionate of my surroundings again and be more of a thinker rather than an empty bulldozer that tramples on the earth without an inkling of things.

Not only that, I have enclosed myself in this self created shell that is holding me back from the things I would actually enjoy doing. Today I got an email stating that there would be an event hosted by the university on how to interpret art pieces held in the museum. My first reaction towards this email was so negative. I was already cringing at the thought of socialising and having to make an impressive impression of myself to everyone. And all the hoity toity beings I would have to suck up to. Then I looked at the time of the event, and a spontaneous sigh of relief slipped trough my lips. I wouldn't be able to make it due to the unavoidable school runs! I thought to myself, what a great excuse!

Then again, who am I deceiving hey? This negative behaviour of mine is flustering to say the least. How did I become such a recluse? I cannot think of an occasion where I was actually glad being in a roomful of people and socialising away! Sigh. I just can't fathom this wariness I have towards people. I even find thinking about it exhausting already. I wish there was a pill to treat such a detrimental disease for people like me. Anyway, I think it's time to catch up on some very much needed sleep. My brain is over processing at the moment and I cannot afford to be brain dead tomorrow. I still have an essay to write about Paul Cezanne's The House of the Hanged Man and all I could say about the painting now is – My three year old son can paint better than that.

Have a great week everyone! xx

Of Love, Sacrifice & Responsibility

When i was younger I was a lot less wise, or a tenderfoot i would like to call it. Allow me to be easy on myself as this is quite a blow to my elephant size ego. I pictured life differently than where I am today and somehow or rather actually believed that the world gyrated around me. Yes, I was a puerile and I do admit it. I didn’t fathom exactly what sacrifice meant and expected people conforming to my ways and that was it. There was always a way to get what I wanted and sadly that was all I ever cared about. Then I got hitched and I was still that spoilt girl who thought about nothing else but herself. Every time I glance into the past I am constantly astounded at my other half’s patience and the degree of tolerance he had and has up till now.

After two years of marriage I was then gifted with the best thing I have ever had. One thing I was unaware of was that it came with great responsibility. I knew that motherhood wasn’t easy peasy lemon squeezy but I didn’t understand the gravity of it. First seven days passed then I knew the true rendition of sacrifice, responsibility and primarily what love really meant. All I saw before my eyes was this tiny helpless bundle that completely relied on me to survive. I never had any bigger responsibility to carry on my shoulder and I was high in an emotional stupor. Despite the raging hormones, sleepless nights and the contemptible body soreness I still managed to mother him to the best of my ability.

But of course what little knowledge I had about sacrifice and whatnots wasn’t truly sufficient. I had to learn more along the way. There was a tug of war between my personal dreams and my flagrant responsibility. I was very adamant to give only the best to him i.e. breastfeeding for two years at least and at the same time I was dying to continue my studies. It felt as though my brain was corroding and thinking was becoming quite a strenuous task. I became a simpleton and the only mind stimulating thought I had was how many diapers are left for the week. There was a disarray of emotions within myself although deep down I knew that I was incapable of putting anything else before him. He was simply my ultimate priority in life.

For three years I buried my desire and appeased myself that there will be time for absolutely everything and I will chance upon the opportunity once more. And lo be hold, here I am three years older and a little wiser (citation needs not confirmation) still passionate and more than eager to pick up what I had momentarily left. I received my university application a few days back and melancholy seems to wash over me every time I look at it. I haven’t had the courage to fill it up just yet and yes it is just me being nonsensical. A little peek will do for now and I intend to complete the application with my other half who has supported me in ways that even he is unaware of. It’s really a defining moment for myself and what better person to share it with than my one and only, mr munchie.

Till this day, there isn’t a trace of regret in my heart as to my decision to settle down and start a family at quite a young age. Despite the puerile being that I was, I am indeed glad that I went against the norm and dropped a few jaws. It was definitely the best decision I have ever made in my entire life. Life without these two imps would be nothingness, hollowed out and simply nugatory. I could not ask for more except for a few hobos and maybe a kajal eyeliner since mine has disappeared into the middle of nowhere. I truly thank god for this luxury. It might not be in a form of big bank balances or shiny cabriolets but I have attained happiness, something that is a rarity these days.

my little family ; diminutive in size but deafening in manner. :)))

Melancholy

at times when my serotonin level gets a tad bit high, my mind would surreptitiously place itself in a melancholic stupor. i know it is only natural for any human being to feel down which leads to the abominable yet irresistible self pity. however, being melancholic is good once in a while. you'd never cherish a sunny day without experiencing a gloomy one beforehand will you? perhaps people who live in a hot country all year round wouldn't be able to relate (booooo!) but the unpredictable weather of britain is not to be taken lightly. i may have a naughty fling with exaggeration but this time i am truly not and you must believe me!

right. back to feeling melancholic. it is a feeling when you ache for life to stop jostling and hustling you in any way. All of a sudden the five minutes routined walk to the local store seems like an arduous path up the hill. everything becomes exaggerated and strenuous. the only thing you pine for is comfort in your own space and thoughts. you'll carry a languished expression for days (in my case it would be about 2 days or until my other half notices and cheers me up with his slapstick jokes) and a dive into self indulgence is never a surprise.

by this time your hectic lifestyle now feels like an obligation. a longing for serenity and placidity develops and you seclude yourself from the crowd to search for complete and utter solitude. the queer thing is, you enjoy doing things alone and your thoughts are your own reflection. there is pleasure mulling over the past and your thoughts are wrapped up in incidents of the long ago. all along, the heart is weighed down like a trapped paper under a paper weight awaiting for someone to lift it and ease the burden.

what could be the treatment for melancholia? some people claim a cup of hot chocolate with extra marshmallow would do the trick. others swore on the magical power of comfort food, romantic movies and the list goes on depending on each individual. i wouldn't dare claim to have the solution for melancholia. however, i do believe that after a heavy dosage of self pity and passive temperament, people who suffer from a short episode of melancholia would usually spring back to life and end this whole drama at once.

you see, being drenched by those sad depressive thoughts is terribly unpleasant and at one point, gets quite sickening. you will wiggle your way out wether conscious or unconsciously and call upon those positive thoughts to start circumambulating the perimeters of your mind. this exuberant change towards positivity will naturally enhance your perspective of things and motivate you to face life's jostle and bustle that is until the next visit melancholia decides to give you. :)

nunu feeling melancholic