Tuesday, December 19, 2006
X'mas Time Is Here, Yuletide greetings
The Little Matchstick Girl
I woke up today feeling all strange. It was like every other morning I woke up into, but everything just seems so weird. Perhaps while I was sleeping, the world I knew just disappeared and I was absorbed into another. Well, only one way to tell, get out of bed and into the world.
It was really funny how people stared at me. Everyone seems so bizarre, I don't understand what they are all doing. They seem to be trying to tell me something, but I can't comprehend what they say or do. They make weird gestures and seem to be babbling something in some foreign tongue. Why can't we understand each other? What is strange, what is weird, can someone tell me how to differentiate what is normal and what is weird. Can anyone comprehend me, is there anyway we can reach an understanding? In all my frustration, I started acting out. I waved my arms in exasperation. The frantic movements of my body seem to draw some attention to some people. They look at me with eyes that shot daggers straight into my heart. I am not funny, I am not dysfunctional, we just don't understand each other. Stop looking at me this way, I screamed and shouted in protest.
As such, they restrained me and held me down, afraid that I might hurt myself or others around me. Funny thing, looking at their efforts to calm me seem to have a tranquilising effect. I relaxed and they let out a sigh of relief. After what seems like an eternity, they finally let me go.
Later in the afternoon, I was led up a bus and to another place I do not know. There seems to be a lot of wrinkly people in here and also most of them have these strange bags with tubes leading down and attached to their arms. However, I was not afraid though they seem so different from me. The people who came with me brought me to this elderly woman and sat me down by her. I attempted to speak my language to her in vain hope of having at least one other person who understands me. I gestured in huge motions. All my efforts were in vain, she did not speak my tongue. What she did was something I did not expect. She held my hand in hers and spoke softly with a kind expression. I thought the world does not understands me, but here she is speaking without words, in a tongue that provides me warmth. I smiled.
Another day, another dollar. My life is so mundane, nothing changes, nothing turns out for the better. The holiday season has a nagging effect of exaggerating the loneliness that I feel. All my friends are attached and my family only makes it worse. Going to my siblings' home, I feel that they are so blessed, they are lucky to have someone to support them and grow old with them. However, I only wish that they will shut it with their nagging about me finding a mate. Its not like I have not been trying, but with work from dawn to dusk, there is not really much time for me to find one. Sure, I've met a few nice girls every now and then, but they all turn out to have someone else in mind. Apparently, I am not sincere enough.
I wish I have someone to share this holidays with. The Christmas lightings seem to taunt me, as i see couples holding hands. Why is it such that everyone around has someone except me? I feel so miserable as I continued along the cold empty street. I knocked into an old lady and sent her flying, her groceries scattered around the precinct. I rushed on ahead and helped her up before picking up her stuff. She seems to be quite shaken by the fall and could no longer walk without any support. Just my luck, I seem to jinx everyone around me.
After bringing her to a doctor, I decided to bring her home. Turns out, she stays in a home for the elderly. I aided the nurse in bringing her back to her room. After seating her upon her bed, I proceeded to leave by the door. She grabbed my hand and urged me to stay. I took a seat by her. She told me of how I reminded her of her husband when he was much younger. I asked about him and she cried. He left her a year back due to a heart disease. I comforted her and she was still after some time. Strange, that I am just like her, we are people who have loved and lost. The words I used to comfort her seem so appropriate to myself. Her tears dried shortly and she fell asleep.
I started to see why I am still alone after so many years, outwardly, I seem to want someone, but actually I too have shut myself in and not allowed myself to love. I left the home feeling a warmth I have never felt before.
A year has past since he slipped away. He left so much memories and so much pain behind. I really wished I could be with him, but how cruel fate is to leave me behind with no drop of poison in his lips to kill me by. Life feels so empty now that he is gone.
The nurse tells me that they are bringing some developmentally challenged children to visit. They hope that the children would bring life to this dying place. Well, it would be a different sight. After all, there is nothing here but elderly folks like myself having lost all hope and are just waiting for the reaper to come. How ironic that with every drip on our IV, our life drips away too.
A bus load of children just arrived. They brought this child to seat by my table, it has been ages since I last had company. Of cause there was this nice young man who brought me back yesterday after my nasty fall. He told me so much comforting words that seem so right, but I just cant put my old man away. Its so easy to say but difficult to do, I can't open my heart just yet. The pain lingers on.
This child that was seated by my table seems so disoriented. He seems unable to focus on anything. Through loud grunts and frantic arm movement he tries to communicate with me, but I just don't understand him. I looked through his eyes and saw that he is desperately trying to get someone to understand him. I empathised with him, for I too am hoping for someone to understand my pain and sorrow. Tears streamed down my eyes as I took his hand in mine and said I love him.
http://hca.gilead.org.il/li_match.html
It's xmas again, and like the most cliche thing to write, write one of christmas. HAHAAHA
This short is inspired by The Little Matchseller by Hans Christian Andersen. The story goes that the little matchseller used her matches to provide her with the moments of warmth and happiness as she was freezing in the blizzard. In Da Same Way, in our lifes, we all seem so sianz and also like so sad. Many times like, no meaning like tat. But then ar, if we learn from tis little match-seller, we can be the matches for other ppl. Warming their lifes and in da process, warming our own too. Enjoy
ahBoey blogged
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12/19/2006 01:12:00 AM
