I-POH

Words lose meanings. Feelings fade.

1st May 2019. Labour Day.

I am in Ipoh now, albeit this being a last minute itinerary I never officially agreed to. I thought I would get a day off after a hectic one yesterday, but hey here I am.

Right in front of Majlis Bandaraya Ipoh, indulging my solitude amidst the loud music from the buskers.

I didn't want to be here. In fact I didn't want to be anywhere but home.

As I'm rapidly approaching 30, the idea of living alone doesn't faze me as much as when I was younger.

And as I'm rapidly approaching 30, I felt like my fate was sealed. That I might have to be satisfied that all the hopes and dreams my younger self had for my future might never come true. I have to live a routine that I can't get out of, I can't be excited about anything new anymore, because there's always something new it's a given, it's barely a surprise.

How sad it is to lose something as quintessential and integral to you as your dreams? That you had to be satisfied with second, or third best because heck, your dreams can never come true anymore.

I dreamt once of a full blown romance in Bali or Greece, kissing under the pale moonlight while reciting in my heart 'au nom de la lune, je respire por toi' 'By the name of the moon, I breathe for you' because my name alludes to the moon.

I dreamt of doing something big and important in my life, challenging old ideas, coming out with groundbreaking ones.

I dreamt of writing best selling novels, not just some god-awful, periodic, spur-of-the-moment blog entries when I felt like it.

I used to dream big, but age has taken that away from me that all I might've become is a cynic.

I am here. I am still here. And here is everywhere but that I didn't want to be.