for new years, i went with two friends to Pavilion, KL. it's basically one of malaysia's versions of the NYC ball drop, where hoards of people camp out to watch the new years countdown and see the fireworks go off. bodies were mushed together, lined up like sardines in a tin can. the man in front of me clearly isn't wearing deodorant and i hear a crying baby behind me.
my friend is alarmed and notes that this reminds her of the Itaewon tragedy in South Korea, where people tragically passed from a Halloween stampede. my face is sweaty and my shirt is riding up and my hair is messy, stinky, greasy and i am close to tears.
i look back on this and imagine this is what parts of my life sound like to my friends.
i feel like, for a long time, i've (metaphorically) existed in an enclosed space, closed in on by things that don't really matter in the long run. occasionally there will be stampedes, where these problems and thoughts manifest as individuals, where i am trampled on over and over again, where i barely make it out alive. and i feel like as the years have gone by, i have stopped resisting. i go limp, letting my body flail around as bodies and boots stomp and scratch me, and i slowly grow numb to the pain i feel.
over the years, i've become jaded at the idea of a new year representing a new me. i know it's about symbolism, but the idea of having to suddenly shift all my habits into productive ones when the clock strikes 12 doesn't seem very realistic and sustainable for me.
maybe it's because i'm not interested in chasing a straight As, pilates princess, healthy girl lifestyle, i don't even know if i'm capable of it. i envy those girls to an extent - their dedication to their lives is impressive. but all i want is a semblance of peace in my life.
just a little bit of silence in my head and compassion for my soul, is what i want and then i can think about life beyond.
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