It has been approximately three days since my surgery and the wound's healing very nicely. No infection thus far and minimal discomfort, the doctors too concur that I am making remarkable progress. If only my life mirrored my recovery :).
Dad left pretty early this morning, catching the morning flight to Brunei, his home away from home for the next three to four weeks to come. We had a nice dinner at the usual haunt BFD, the only difference is we tried the East Coast outlet instead. Dinner was excellent as usual with the addition of live band turning out tunes from Bon Jovi, Pink Floyd and the rest of the gang from the 70s to 90s. Mum didn't take too well to the outdoor dining without the usual zero degrees climate but the rest of us had great fun chilling out and just enjoying each other's company.
"Hitting the wall" is the phrase used to describe athletes when they reach a point in their sporting career where they just can't go any further, perhaps due to excessive training or just sheer exhaustion at having do the same thing over and over again. "Burning out", the more popular terminology used in describing such phases, can too happen to just about anything else in one's life. I, on the other hand, have never done anything to such an extreme extent that warrants me burning and crashing out. I guess the only one time I could safely I say I got so sick of any activity was perhaps swimming, during my secondary school days.
I have never really blogged or mentioned about anything that happened during the earlier parts of my life and a great deal of misunderstandings and ill-feelings from the past still linger up till this very day. Firstly, I was never exceptionally good at swimming. Sure I may have got into a couple of finals here and there but I have never really excelled in it. I started swimming in primary three and continued right up till the end of my secondary school days.
When I was in secondary one, a rather nasty incident happened between me and another swimmer during a particular training session. I guess that was where things started to spiral out of control. What hurt be deeply was not only the fact that I was accused of something so treacherous and something I really wasn't capable off but the fact that I was accused of such a deed by the parent of a very close friend. A friend who I hung out with, went to french classes with, trained with and so on and so forth. Nevertheless, as we were only 13 then, we tried to maintain the friendship to no avail. Things quickly turned sour and before long the issue blew way out of control. That incident changed me in so many ways. It definitely made me grow up a whole lot faster and it surely affected the way I dealt and interacted with people. This incident soon became the focal point of a lot of attention in the swimming scene back then and it soon defined the person I was and how others saw me. The conflict seared across all aspects of my life, seeping into my school life, extended family interactions so on and so forth. It was a long battle and after a long four year tussle, we were cleared off all misdeeds. At the end of it all, there wasn't that sense of victory which one would expect to feel after so long a battle but more a sense of relief and resignation. As with all other battles big or small, it isn't a victory that concludes any battle but the resignation of the side which has lost the most which ends a conflict. We didn't loose much expect a couple of restless nights, time and energy which could have been better spent on more constructive events over those four years. I can't say the same for the other side though. On hindsight, the question I always ask is, was it all worthwhile? Was there a need to spend so much resources in trying to bring the other party down? What was it that you wanted to achieve at the end of it all? What sick pleasure did you gain by it all? It has been almost 6 years now since the conclusion of that mini-drama in my life and still the questions linger, like a shadow refusing to fade away in the midst of the setting sun. It isn't a big world that we live in these days and if by chance should you ever chance upon this entry, I'd just like to say that given the chance I'd like to find out from your side what really happened... how did this all start... and perhaps if you knew my side of the story you'd than truly understand why there was little or no basis at all in yours in the first place... :) I guess this is how letting go feels... tired and aching fingers at the end of a long hacking session away at the keyboard:)
With that of my shoulder, I guess it's time to get back to my mindless gaming and regular lattes whilst I am at it. Till the next entry!
“Life is pleasant. Death is peaceful. It's the transition that's troublesome.”
- Isaac Asimov
US science fiction novelist & scholar (1920 - 1992)
No comments:
Post a Comment