Untitled just because ,
Tuesday, May 13, 2014 | 9:50 PM
Woah, May already.
And now I’m at that period in life where, I just wanna keep sleeping and never wake up, where, nightmares seem sweeter than reality (you can take it literally cause I just had a nightmare about some cult last night, causing me to wake up in fear. Normally I would’ve been too afraid to go back to sleep but this time I just closed my eyes and returned to that darkness … have I ever mentioned that all my dreams are in black and white? And almost too often I know I am dreaming and consciously tell myself that in those dreams but I cannot wake myself up from it). I sleep when I’m tired, I sleep when I’m not, because it’s better than staying awake.
I’ve always believed that everyone will have a point in life where they have suicidal thoughts. Where they believe that they have reach their lowest low and where every thought eventually leads to death. Some survive that period, but some are not as fortunate. I thought that I had conquered mine in primary school, and I thought it was over it already, so it really caught me by surprise when these thoughts come back to haunt me again when I’m eighteen. Once again, in my graduating year.
The edge of a knife has never seem so fine, the edge of the building, never as tempting, sick of these tears, time to see some blood flowing. “You need some attention?” my own words taunt me, I’ve found the answer, yes? Maybe.
Honestly speaking, my life is not that bad as I’ve exaggerated it to be. Two weeks ago, I just had my last band performance. It was the first time which I made a conscious effort to really live in each passing moments and seconds. In the past, band performances and SYFs used to be a literal blur of passing time from the moving of instruments (really the highlight in a percussionist life LOL) in school, to the debrief from the leaders after it’s over. It’s the same feeling when trying to remember one’s childhood.
And minutes before our item, I thought about this conversation I once had with my band conductor (it was in March, and I mentioned (but didn't finish) it in my (only) post in March). The topic was “something to describe your life”, here’s the most relatable but cliché answer I have at that moment. My life is a stage. But I am still backstage, it is not my time to perform yet. I have yet to experience what it’s like to have that exhilarating feeling when the spotlight is shining on me and only me, I have yet to experience what it’s like to be out there, performing my own solo, scripted by yours truly.
Cause right now I’m still at the backstage, where it’s pitch black, where nervousness comes with every breath and where uncertainty holds my hand. Right now, I’m peeking through the curtains, having a glimpse of the audience and situation out there. From this hole I’m peeking through, I don’t understand much. I get bits and pieces of reality on and beyond the stage but really, I still have no clue what’s going on. I have this urgency to leap out on to the stage but at the same time I’m pulled back by all kinds of fear - fear of being ridiculed, fear of being alone, fear of disappointment, but most of all, fear of the unknown.
What if, after I leap out, there is no landing? What if, after I leap out, he is no longer sitting there in the crowd, watching me, cheering for me? What if, after I leap out, it is even darker than before? (Disclaimer: a pun is coming up) Because life is LIVE, there is no replay (人生没有从来，只有现场直播 ). I am well aware that once I come out from behind the curtains, I cannot retreat back in again. It’s like how, upon graduation, I can never go back to the high school life EVER again. You are expected to grow up, and the older you are, the less likely people are going to forgive you or find excuses for you.
When you are 6, you broke a vase, after canning you, your mother pulls you into her arms, and wiped away your tears. When you’re 14, you broke the principal’s window, the school suspended you, but they ask you to come back to school in a week’s time. When you’re 20, you broke his heart, after quarreling, he left in anger. But days later, he came back with a rose and tells you that he rather lose an argument than to lose you. When you’re 30, you broke a deal with an important client, your boss said farewell, … and you never hear from him again. Then you’re 50, and you broke your backbone, from then on you lie in bed, staring at the blinding ceiling lights, imaging the applause, and trying to relive those times on that stage.
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