Angry, tired, disillusioned

Mohd Hafiz Noor Shams, December 3, 2007

English, Hafiz, Columns |

Already it’s December. My, oh my, how time flies. I woke up last Saturday to discover that it was already 12 hours into December. Around this time several years ago, I’d wake up in a very dark room, curtain blocking the sunlight from penetrating. I’d smile because I was thankful to be alive. I felt blessed. There was nothing more I would ask. These days, I’m angry, disillusioned and tired. Whereas a smile came naturally then, it’s a chore now.

I wish I could turn back time, forever savoring that blissful moment again and again and again. I wish I could just stare at the ceiling for the whole morning, knowing that for that day, at least, I was happy and nothing bothered me, like I used to. I’d breathe in the cool fresh air, filling my pair of lungs with sweetness and then slowly releasing the air. All worries were simply dissipates by just breathing. By just breathing, I was satisfied. I’d just lie on my bed, breathing, smiling and eyes wide opened, for hours. It was bliss. It was inner peace that seems so distance now.

Suddenly, I could hear Haydn in the background. No, it wasn’t on the radio. It was in my head and only I alone could hear it. I had listened to him over and over again the night previously. If I may, there was an afterimage, an aftertaste that lingered in my consciousness. And I cried, as I am right now. I cried not because of Haydn but because of that bliss, knowing full well that it wouldn’t last. And I cry now, for I have tasted the fruit and I now long for it.

Suddenly a voice, “carpe diem!”

I’d take a walk, enjoying my time in the sun. I’d take my stroll along the river, enjoying the breeze with an empty mind. I’d imagine that I was flying amid the field where the long grasses grew just over the hill away from the clumsy ducks. The flocks seemed determine to annoy the nearby graceful swans.

Before long, I’d find myself staring into the blue sky, liberated, lying on the earth, again smiling to myself. And breathing, and satisfied.

I don’t know what went wrong but I’m growing increasingly bitter now. Each day provokes anger continuously without fail. Already the anger is saturating to a point that it defines the opposite of bliss. I dread waking up every day. I really do. I wish I would sleep and never to wake up.

Let others argue for I am tired. It’s the same argument over and over again. It’s the same polemics, the same flaws. Enough and let me be. Leave me and I promise, I’ll leave you.

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