The mumble jumble in the head that doesn't feel like mine anymore

I realised that in my pursuit of excellence or the sub-par standard of 'excellence', I have not had time to do one of the most important things I told myself I will do regardless. I remembered back when I was merely 15, I would make an effort to go up to the roof garden, lie in the little round ratten cushioned chair we placed out there, and watch the sunset all by myself almost every single day. I told myself that it was a way to appreciate the nature and the way the world works and also to relax my mind from studying hard. At times, I would go up there alone at night too, just lying there having the cool breeze, and watching the stars sparkling in the night sky. I thought I had a beautiful life, and a very beautiful house.
None of my family members really appreciated the beautiful place. I was the only one making the effort to enjoy the luxury of having one of the highest houses in that area, so we were almost over-looking most houses. The me then seemed to know how to be really appreciative. I took every moment as if it was my last and treasured every single bit of it. And thinking back now, I'm glad to have made these mental notes and images because I easily recall how everything else looked when I still had them.

I couldn't have asked for a better house then. Having had the luxury of having my own room, complete with a walk-in wardrobe, attached bathroom and even a balcony, I thought life couldn't have been better. And at that age, how many people really could say they have a room to call their own? But amongst the many physical comfort I was surrounded with, I stood at the balcony most of the time, all by myself, spacing out and just people-watching, neighbour-gazing. I would stare at the temple behind my house and wondered about the people's routines. Once, I got crazy enough and brought my little cones to the huge temple and laid them all out and started training my slalom. Felt like shaolin-slalom. I would be done with my thing, pick it all up, skate around the estate and ponder over life. I stared at the huge houses behind with the little kids playing in the front porch, running towards their parents the moment they came home, it reminded me of myself. The irony then I felt, of being super contented with everything I was given, and being utterly heart-broken with a family falling apart, piece by piece. I stood at my balcony one time too many, wondering, why we can't have all the good things in life.

I might have matured emotionally the quickest during that period of time. But looking at my battered self now, I can't say I still am as emotionally mature. I crumble easily when dealt with harsh blows, I harden when I don't hear things I want to hear, and I become more cynical and less patient with people. We improve over time right? I seem to have turned into a nastier person with a richer wealth of experience. They say experience teaches you the hardest lessons, and I have learnt that too. I was so much more mellow then. Probably because I have numbed all my emotions. Nothing so much could ever excite me. I almost lost the zest for life.

You know these days, the older I get, the lesser time I allow myself to ponder about such things in life. I have since stopped to take a whiff of the rose silently lying by my side. I have not looked at my environment in the most earnest way in trying to understand why they are what they are. Everything is about speed, precision and efficiency. Things that served no purpose deserved no time of mine. I have gone into this mad rush of life.

Time to time, I remind myself of this beautiful thing called nature. Everyone is so caught up with their own pace of life that the most serene, peaceful thing out there, is really just all around us going unnoticed. I'm always the first to point out the patterns of the moon especially when I see a full/crescent one, spotting the Orion's belt amongst the galaxy of stars, and also trying to differentiate between satellites and actual stars.

I've had a weird habit of physically walking down the 'memory lane' whenever I felt emotionally attached to a place. The first time I did it was at Telok Kurau. Still an innocent 6 year old, I walked the entire street from park connector end to main road junction, taking in every single information about the environment, imprinting that in my memory that I will come back and do the exact same thing and replay everything even if the houses then had been replaced. I did that again at 16 for the spatially biggest house I've ever lived in and equally saddest place all at the same time. Then again at 19 with my first ever house I got to have a say in designing from start to end. It was outrageously satisfying to hear encouraging comments of 'wah your house damn nice' whenever we had visitors 9 out of 10 times.

The thing with places and the heart. They are 2 very different subject matters altogether. Yet, they are all so close. You travel to a place, and all the memories associated with the place start flooding back as if someone opened the flood gates.

I understand the value of seeing the less of things when you see the more of it. Such a contradicting statement by itself. The things that mattered to me as a child don't really matter as much now as I go through life's processes. I'm trying to find the innocence and appreciation I had for minute things... To reverse the growing up experience. I had been a better person then, than I am now. As I stumble over my own feet, I ask myself, what has happened? Over and over.

After pondering, I came to a conclusion that we learn how to protect ourselves. Survival of the fittest? In this case, it's survival of the emotionally fittest. We lose the child-like innocence of believing everything to be the best only to replace it with cynicism that this is always not good enough. Hard knocks in life take away some compassion each time. Asking us to care for someone whole-heartedly even if we have had our hearts broken before, even the most giving, would be cautious. The thing about growing up, is that we become more independent. That should also mean we are more capable of discerning what might be better for us. Why then, do we always rely on our past experience to predict our future, to limit our own capabilities, to impose assumptions on other people thinking history would repeat itself?

If I could lose something right now, it would be to lose all that emotional baggage and restart my emotions on a clean slate.