Saturday, May 17, 2008

Losing strangeness, taking pains

The storm yesterday left as quickly as a transient tourist. The strong winds blew off roofs, branches and leaves of trees, and more leaves for minutes then the wind dissipated. Fresh leaves blanketed roads and pathways as if it was deliberately done, unfortuitously, created by some art maniac installing a 3d art. Left the house at about 3 o'clock to buy lunch and upon seeing the swarm of wet litter a passing thought kicked up a rumpus in my mind.


Summer has ended once more and it's the start of the rainy season. The transition's really too fast leaving no traces to remember that yesterday's only summer. It's been a month since I arrived here in my new home as a stranger. The place has been very hospitable to me that a month's adjustment didn't even get a bruise out of the cynic in me. There's this new friend a 5-year-old. His name is James, the grandson of my landlord who frequently visits my flat in 'unusual' moments. He would barge in my room without me knowing it. He would come as if he knew me a long time ago and happy to know that finally he'd met me again. The boy would climb up to me, never taking any apprehension of disturbing my reading sessions, he would try to sit on my lap. The last time he visited he was so enthusiastic about another horror story from me. He would listen with so much intent but would always be terrified in the end asking me to cut the story short. And that would always make me laugh.


He would ease moments of pain which I've been frequently succumbing into.


Many successful Bar passers are telling that you should leave all your baggages whatever they may be when you jump into your review, for you not to lose focus. I have tried to leave all those baggages behind. Sadly, they've been here with me all along. . .haunting me like ghosts in the night. It's been a struggle for me the past few weeks to take control and to force my nose in a book. It's been an overwhelming emotional battle which left me thinking very deep into the pitch-black well of my past. And that the logical becomes rather an elusive and restraining issue for me now is inexplainable. At some moments I take a pause in studying and look far beyond my vision's reach and ask myself who I am, where I am.


Am I losing this battle? Will I be able to halt and reverse this downward spiral?


There are times when I want to take on a job for some kind of diversion, but that too would necessarily divert me from my review. It's my dilemma lately. . .losing at both ends.. .


Yes, my friend, I've been struggling. I'll try my best not be knocked off by these emotions. I'll try my best to survive even if it means more wounds, more scars to bear. . . This is torment in its purest form. The defining element and storyline of this boy's life.

4 comments:

Mugen said...

All the best for you my friend. Break a leg.

Ann said...

If you really want this, it'll be worth it in the end.

God bless. May you find what you need to keep on keeping on. :)

Lydia said...

Dex,
The rainy season certainly is of no help when you are undergoing a depression as deep as the one you struggle with now. The winter rain here in Oregon seems oppressive many days and staying with a goal is hard under those conditions.

I wish I knew more about how the Bar review is structured there. Was your move necessary due to the location of the review? How long does the review go on for you? Young James seems like a bright angel there to greet you in that place.

I wish I knew more about how torment came to be the defining element in your life. I've read many of your posts but of course don't have the full story from them.

Is short-term counseling available to you through the law school or some other entity? Have you tried counseling in the past?

I will send you a brief email so that -- should you want to talk about these things -- you can respond that way.

Some jerk coined that phrase: "Failure is Not an Option." Well, yes it is. It's just something that happens as the opposite of not failing. But not failing isn't always success. And success doesn't always bring happiness.

At the very heart of your struggling to understand or to forget the "pitch-black well" of your past is what feeds your art, your glorious writing. It is your gift, and your readers love you for sharing it with all of us.

Peace to your heart this day and night,
Lydia

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