Hard rain woke me up this morning. It seemed so kind to express what my heart feels... My feet were soaking wet on my way to work.
With the tapping of the raindrops on my umbrella, I heard myself singing Jann Arden's Elsewhere:
My heart is in my hands
My head is in the clouds
My feet have left the ground
My life is turning around and round
And every voice inside my head is telling me to run like mad
Oh bows and arrows, stars and sunset
Hey hey hey yeah
Hey hey hey yeah
Every heartbeat, every kiss just
Makes me wonder what all this is
Suits of armour
Hearts and arrows
Hey hey hey ye-eah!
And, I'm still humming it now...
Early new year's resolution
Six years ago in November, I scribed on my journal that I had decided to smoke cigarette. It was not because I find it fashionable to see myself puffing while talking with drinking buddies and jamming on guitar with them.
Somehow, it came to me that a woman with a cigarette possesses authority over herself in a society that knows no woman of power. I found it liberating to implicitly slam all the male chauvinist pigs that I could destroy my respiratory system as much as they could; That I could be as daring and brave as they label themselves.
But, that's beside the point. I was actually moved by indignation to try smoking. I used to tell my parents that 'smoking kills' and that second-hand smoke affects my sister and I. I hated the futile spending for something that destroys one's system and contributes to global warming. I hated inhaling smoke of cigarette and even the smell of it. And, with all those too much hatred, I started smoking...
Then, I felt the soothing nicotine in my brain. It brought me out of depression... It sucked out the anxiety and senseless fear. I told myself that "I am the master of my body. I can quit this if I want." It was supposed to be a statement to be proven against all my friends who said that once you try it, you can never stop.
Remember, that was six years ago...
Since then, six years had passed that I never failed to list down 'quitting smoke' in my 'new year's resolutions' list. It's been six years also that I had been failing the resolution.
I never regret starting this habit or let's say addiction. But, I regret losing control of myself. I am supposed to prove that I can quit this when I want. Maybe, I did not want to stop in the past six years and was just drawn by social pressures. Or that in six years, my parents have been able to accept that I am one of them.
I had several attempts to quit. I had done it once for four months while jogging at least two kilometers a day. But, then I got tired of too much physical activities. And, my working condition did not allow me to do it regularly. My work had, instead, encouraged me to kiss butts again.
Then, my bedroom voice started bothering me. I could not sing enough to call it a performance. I could not swim enough to call it swimming. I could not run enough to convince myself that I used to run 21 kilometers before. I've been losing my endurance, my breath, my talent...
My dear friend told me last night, I would be losing more than that or almost everything I could have enjoyed if all the effects of this smoking beat me. She is right. I knew it before I started this. And, I told her to make this the first in my list for new year's resolution. She just said, "I don't believe that you believe in that."
I went home last night with the courage to sleep without my regular good night stick. Unfortunately (or fortunately in the opposite sense), I found a pack of red Marlboro above our fridge which my mom just bought from the grocery that afternoon. I knew how much they love me and they pretty much knew what I love.
I don't know. Like right now, I'm actually drinking coffee and about to smoke a stick before having lunch. But, I'm still thinking... Still trying to convince myself that I can still be who I was six years ago.
Somehow, it came to me that a woman with a cigarette possesses authority over herself in a society that knows no woman of power. I found it liberating to implicitly slam all the male chauvinist pigs that I could destroy my respiratory system as much as they could; That I could be as daring and brave as they label themselves.
But, that's beside the point. I was actually moved by indignation to try smoking. I used to tell my parents that 'smoking kills' and that second-hand smoke affects my sister and I. I hated the futile spending for something that destroys one's system and contributes to global warming. I hated inhaling smoke of cigarette and even the smell of it. And, with all those too much hatred, I started smoking...
Then, I felt the soothing nicotine in my brain. It brought me out of depression... It sucked out the anxiety and senseless fear. I told myself that "I am the master of my body. I can quit this if I want." It was supposed to be a statement to be proven against all my friends who said that once you try it, you can never stop.
Remember, that was six years ago...
Since then, six years had passed that I never failed to list down 'quitting smoke' in my 'new year's resolutions' list. It's been six years also that I had been failing the resolution.
I never regret starting this habit or let's say addiction. But, I regret losing control of myself. I am supposed to prove that I can quit this when I want. Maybe, I did not want to stop in the past six years and was just drawn by social pressures. Or that in six years, my parents have been able to accept that I am one of them.
I had several attempts to quit. I had done it once for four months while jogging at least two kilometers a day. But, then I got tired of too much physical activities. And, my working condition did not allow me to do it regularly. My work had, instead, encouraged me to kiss butts again.
Then, my bedroom voice started bothering me. I could not sing enough to call it a performance. I could not swim enough to call it swimming. I could not run enough to convince myself that I used to run 21 kilometers before. I've been losing my endurance, my breath, my talent...
My dear friend told me last night, I would be losing more than that or almost everything I could have enjoyed if all the effects of this smoking beat me. She is right. I knew it before I started this. And, I told her to make this the first in my list for new year's resolution. She just said, "I don't believe that you believe in that."
I went home last night with the courage to sleep without my regular good night stick. Unfortunately (or fortunately in the opposite sense), I found a pack of red Marlboro above our fridge which my mom just bought from the grocery that afternoon. I knew how much they love me and they pretty much knew what I love.
I don't know. Like right now, I'm actually drinking coffee and about to smoke a stick before having lunch. But, I'm still thinking... Still trying to convince myself that I can still be who I was six years ago.
Christmas Wish
I don't believe in Santa Claus even when I was a kid. It was because I haven't seen reindeers yet... I don't believe in Christmas neither because I don't believe that Jesus Christ is the real god of all. Or I simply don't believe that there's a transcendental god who looks over us, just like Santa Claus watching over kids and listing down the names of the good ones to deserve a gift on Christmas eve.
But, because celebrating Christmas day has been a part of our traditions, I have always wished for something good to happen on that holiday or during the season. Something that would make me believe that miracles or magics could sometimes be true...
I have something in my mind that I want to happen not just in December but for the rest of the days to come. And, that deserves another story.
For now, I just wish that I will have all the discographies of jann arden, tori amos, paula cole, sophie zelmani, sarah machlachlan, bic runga, fiona apple, jewel, joni mitchell, indigo girls... I just want to listen to their songs as my heart sings (instead of christmas carols).
They somehow speak of my emotions...
But, because celebrating Christmas day has been a part of our traditions, I have always wished for something good to happen on that holiday or during the season. Something that would make me believe that miracles or magics could sometimes be true...
I have something in my mind that I want to happen not just in December but for the rest of the days to come. And, that deserves another story.
For now, I just wish that I will have all the discographies of jann arden, tori amos, paula cole, sophie zelmani, sarah machlachlan, bic runga, fiona apple, jewel, joni mitchell, indigo girls... I just want to listen to their songs as my heart sings (instead of christmas carols).
They somehow speak of my emotions...
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