Nothing feels more mentally agonizing and rueful than the feeling of loneliness. I’ve walked throughout the twenty years of my life with it, bearing it like a stone covered beneath my heart. One of the very first feelings I felt as a child was of being lonely.
It was the feeling of being abandoned when I waited for my grandfather to pick me up after everyone else have left school for their home. It was the strong bulging pain in my throat when my parents boarded the plane without me. It was the betrayal I felt after being forgotten by a friend I trusted and valued so much. It was being excluded in everything people did and everywhere people went to. It was of being distant and oblivious to the chaos of 3 am parties, alcohol and teenage sex. It was the high school cafeteria thrumming with laughter and shouts and I, sitting alone at the corner of the library, as I silently observe.
It was the feeling of entering into a world I was a stranger to, a harsh perilous place I was yet to get accustomed to. It was longing the presence of my loved ones when all there stood before me was the darkness and the cold, brooding emptiness.
It was missing those good yet short memories that passed by, which have left me now in the abysmal circle of void and confusion. It was missing my old self, longing to return to a past that’ll never come back.
But time moves forward and I had no option but to follow its obscure path.
Loneliness was I, in a world that was so full of people but where I still felt like a pathless wanderer, moving from home to home, like a soul with no body.
Finding the time to write my blog is painstakingly difficult. By the end of the day, I’m just so worn out, too exhausted to do anything except lie on my bed and go to sleep. The past week has been monotonous, going back and forth from college to home, flipping through pages of my thick textbooks or trimming through bundles of stained yellow papers and old assignments in preparation for my impending exam next month. I wonder how different work life would be from uni life once I’m finally out of this lame tedious routine. Sometimes, all I just want to do is pack my suitcase, leave this miserable place and fly off somewhere, to travel and see the world. However, my current situation totally prevents me from taking such an action. With the surmounting tuition fees that increase every year and the fact that I am halfway through getting my degree, it would be the stupidest decision to quit and start over with a different degree. I’d rather not plunge into that. And so, I’ll toil and labor for another two and half years, in preparation for a world I have no intention to be a part of.
Sometimes, I think in my heart that law school must be the biggest mistake of my life. It’s a constant debate of my own, an ensuing argument that takes place inside my own conscience. I don’t see myself as that fearsome, artful litigator, taking her stand in the courtroom in front of the judges and jury, and is so exceptionally skilled and persuasive in her words that she even leaves her opponent speechlessly impressed. I am a person of few words. I am, in other words, someone who enjoys communicating through writing, like what I am doing right now.
Let go of the dark thoughts that haunt your memories, the worries that cloud your mind, and the grief that weighs on your heart.
Let go of the world that sinks your heart with fear, the obstacles that burden your anxiety, and the night that blinds your eyes.
Let go of the bridge that fell on your path, the leaves that withered from your tree, and the bud that failed to spring, despite your utmost care.
Let go of the river that trails from your eyes, the pangs of your anguished soul, and the sorrow and frustration of having to fail once again.
Open your heart, your soul and your mind, to the beauty of the rising dawn. Be released from your cage and spread your wings, while gazing towards the expense of the sky. Be free to be lifted high up towards the heavens among the wandering clouds- like a soaring eagle, flying in the morning and in hope of a new discovery, a new beginning.