It has been some time since I found the audacity to write. I feel somewhat revived and slightly battered. I haven’t been able to sit within the lush greenery of a courtyard to divulge in my inner consciousness for the past nine months and now, I feel that I can finally find the words to speak.

As my beloved Sex and the City reruns play in the background, I allow myself to gather my thoughts and fall into a deep coma. My birthday is fast approaching and again, that time of the year where I reflect and fall into solemn nostalgia tugs on my shirt.

I have a phobia of falling weak and frail. Dependent on those that surround, I feel more delicate with added fragility as the minutes tick away. The burdens of facing a reality we are destined to face is all too overwhelming to digest and I just want a certain time in a particular place where I can press pause.

I would like to say that I am exactly where I wanted to be but in all actuality, this cannot be further from the truth. I had envision a somewhat graceful transition from my silly and reckless self into a responsible and wise human being but something keeps reminding me that I never want to grow up and I start to question, is this even a choice?

They keep telling me to relieve my ridiculous ways. They beg me to stop smoking, drink moderately, act my age, eat better, look after myself, dress conservatively, respect one’s self, look after my mother, say no to risk taking, take my multivitamins, be kind and to live in peace free from hate and angst. They keep asking me when I will settle down, when will I stop moving from city to city, when will I get married and when will I finish my academic ventures. They keep reciting stories passed from one being to another, stories of satisfied souls who are living the undisrupted life filled with pretty trinkets, fast cars, trips worldwide, stable incomes and residences on a 20 year mortgage. I hear anecdotes of united spirits with adorable children and optimum healthcare.

Ten drinks, too many cigarettes, pained feet, faded conversations and minimal thought into any kind of resolution later, I figured, what happens if this isn’t even what I want? Troubled, I run and find solace in the air that this world provides only to feel myself heaving in the muggy humidity within my lungs, which is unfamiliar and unnerving.

I’m too young to be your comrade yet too old to be your thunder buddy.

In need of a holiday

Palm Trees & Sunshine; In need of a holiday.



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