Yesterday, I was walking home from somewhere that if I had worn my heart on my sleeve, I would have bent down somewhere and cried. But I don’t do that, so I didn’t. But I still felt like shit anyway. I took that path before millions of times. But yesterday, it looked different.
I don’t know why but after the incident sometime ago, I changed. It’s as if that incident was so significant that it eclipsed every other small things that happened in life ever since. It was amazing and I didn’t know how it happened exactly but I think the last trace of my social anxiety ‘pseudo-disorder’ is gone.
So I was walking home with the freaking wind in my hair, blowing everything backwards. Head held up, looking around at whatever I liked and not giving a damn about anyone walking towards me, absorbing in the sun the whole time. I feel good, I feel amazing. Just walking, springing, just existing. So what if there’s nothing else in life but just sticking around doing mortal things? It makes things a whole lot simpler.
I looked to my left and there it was, the field with the trees, the motorbikes, the elevated MRT tracks in the background. A few years ago, specifically 4 years ago, I took a picture of it— when I was so absorbed in photography. I was interested at the geometry of it all— the path I’m standing on is one line, the field is a thicker line, the motorbikes an uneven, undulating line, the trees one line, the mrt tracks one line, the sky the final line. It didn’t turn out too well, but well, that is not really the point.
It’s funny how I walked by yesterday and had a flashback to that day. It’s been such a long time. I realised years ago and also re-discovered it yesterday the meaning of ‘photographic memory’. In the past when I was really into photography, if I covered a place, I can draw a mental map of the place and will never get lost in it (this is a huge thing for someone like me who always does)— because I can recall the pictures, which one I took first and next. Yesterday, I pictured the composition I did 4 years ago and recalled the exact thoughts I was having in my head when I took the picture and the thoughts before and after that. So here we also rediscover the meaning of a ‘mental map’.
Thinking of who I was and who I am, I don’t think I have been shortchanged for hanging on and not giving up on life. Things have yet been phenomenal or anything but as far as sticking-around goes, I think I have made quite a bit out of it.
(To be continued: the post after this.)