"..is there anybody home?
who will believe me, won't deceive me,
won't try to change me,
is there anybody home?
who wants to have me just to love me,
stuck in the middle.."
Dear lonely isle,who will believe me, won't deceive me,
won't try to change me,
is there anybody home?
who wants to have me just to love me,
stuck in the middle.."
The other day when I had a meeting with my supervisor, I needed the formula for a phosphate buffer that I required for my thesis labwork. No worries I'm not going to bore you with the details of it :) I'm so nice aren't I? :P
Anyway, it was getting late (about 7pm that time) and we both wanted to get home and she did not have the formula with her. So the pretty lady said she'd mail it to my email and asked for the address. Upon writing it down, she asked "Lonely..isle? *laughs* was there a reason behind this?"
And that got me thinking for a bit.
Flashback to something that happened probably about a month or two ago, I can't really remember. But when is not the point anyway, it's what. I was showing a coursemate my blog because she wanted to see some photos I posted up.
I understand that not many people are a fan of Middle Earth and The Lord of the Rings, which is why I find myself explaining the meaning of Tol Eressea to so many people, and to which she replied "Why lonely isle? You have us, don't you?"
But I guess you were a long time ago.
Okay, not so much long as possibly about a decade ago? Or maybe sometime between a decade and half a decade ago. You didn't come up until I picked up J.R.R. Tolkien's greatest work, but still the essence of being you was there.
I guess, some time ago, I felt exactly like tol eressea. The lonely isle. Sitting all alone in an empty space in the ocean. Adrift and apart from others. Not so much in the physical sense (because I do not live on top of a mountain all by myself and neither do I stay in empty, lost caves alone and is described by the expression 'hermit', 'sage', or 'crazy lunatic'), but rather in the mental or emotional sense, I usually get confused at this part because my heart is often clever enough to sabotage my brain into thinking what I want is what I need.
I guess we all do go through a stage in life where we feel like we don't fit in. For me this happened sometime in the transition from childhood to growing up. Somehow, when you were a lot younger, (ie; below 3 feet) everyone was a friend. And as u grew taller, you find that sometimes that's not true. Sometimes you find yourself having no one you can call a 'friend'. And your world suddenly becomes this silent place with only the thoughts in your head to keep you company. I learnt to spend a lot of time on my own, and being by myself. I even learnt to talk to myself.
Yeah, internal monologue is definitely more fun when someone replies. Sometimes I wonder if that person really was me. Because that person, was you.
We'd talk about guys, fantasies, dreams. We'd laugh over funny shows and go through the best parts together. We'd cry over heartaches and sad times. Somehow it's pathetic and ironic how your best friend when you were small was yourself. But that's not all you were.
As I grew up, so did you. You grew from someone who kept me company to someone who always kept me in check. I guess you turned into a conscience. Of some sort.
You'd push me to do more, work harder, and you'd always ask for more than I can give. You'd scold when I make mistakes and comfort me when I fail. You'd tell me that I can cry as much as I want, but when I'm done I need to get back to work.
Sometimes I wonder where I find the drive to do things, to try to reach further and higher, to just keep holding on. To break down and rebuild myself. And to know that I don't have to like something to still do my best in it.
I'd like to take credit for all that, but really, even if it was me, it wasn't this me.
It seems pretty weird to blog to yourself, when it comes right down to this, but I guess it's just like old times. You and me have come a long way baby, and we don't really need paper or pen to talk.
I guess I just got so used to talking to you.
But somewhere along the way I learnt to make friends, and learnt to let people into my world; my thoughts, my heart, myself. And then the world suddenly seemed a lot less quiet. I learnt to like conversations with other people, and talking. Maybe that's why I can't shut up nowadays; I needed to make up for lost time.
Things are different now. I know I'm not the lonely little girl I used to be, but some part of me will always be that lonely isle, because there's always this little part of me that looks in from the outside, like an observer of my life. And that little part of me, is always alone.
You know how you can feel alone even when you're in a room full of people?
I think everyone does, every now and then.
But it's okay, because the rest of the time, it doesn't feel that way.
Not anymore.
Love, Joyce.
Anyway, it was getting late (about 7pm that time) and we both wanted to get home and she did not have the formula with her. So the pretty lady said she'd mail it to my email and asked for the address. Upon writing it down, she asked "Lonely..isle? *laughs* was there a reason behind this?"
And that got me thinking for a bit.
Flashback to something that happened probably about a month or two ago, I can't really remember. But when is not the point anyway, it's what. I was showing a coursemate my blog because she wanted to see some photos I posted up.
I understand that not many people are a fan of Middle Earth and The Lord of the Rings, which is why I find myself explaining the meaning of Tol Eressea to so many people, and to which she replied "Why lonely isle? You have us, don't you?"
But I guess you were a long time ago.
Okay, not so much long as possibly about a decade ago? Or maybe sometime between a decade and half a decade ago. You didn't come up until I picked up J.R.R. Tolkien's greatest work, but still the essence of being you was there.
I guess, some time ago, I felt exactly like tol eressea. The lonely isle. Sitting all alone in an empty space in the ocean. Adrift and apart from others. Not so much in the physical sense (because I do not live on top of a mountain all by myself and neither do I stay in empty, lost caves alone and is described by the expression 'hermit', 'sage', or 'crazy lunatic'), but rather in the mental or emotional sense, I usually get confused at this part because my heart is often clever enough to sabotage my brain into thinking what I want is what I need.
I guess we all do go through a stage in life where we feel like we don't fit in. For me this happened sometime in the transition from childhood to growing up. Somehow, when you were a lot younger, (ie; below 3 feet) everyone was a friend. And as u grew taller, you find that sometimes that's not true. Sometimes you find yourself having no one you can call a 'friend'. And your world suddenly becomes this silent place with only the thoughts in your head to keep you company. I learnt to spend a lot of time on my own, and being by myself. I even learnt to talk to myself.
Yeah, internal monologue is definitely more fun when someone replies. Sometimes I wonder if that person really was me. Because that person, was you.
We'd talk about guys, fantasies, dreams. We'd laugh over funny shows and go through the best parts together. We'd cry over heartaches and sad times. Somehow it's pathetic and ironic how your best friend when you were small was yourself. But that's not all you were.
As I grew up, so did you. You grew from someone who kept me company to someone who always kept me in check. I guess you turned into a conscience. Of some sort.
You'd push me to do more, work harder, and you'd always ask for more than I can give. You'd scold when I make mistakes and comfort me when I fail. You'd tell me that I can cry as much as I want, but when I'm done I need to get back to work.
Sometimes I wonder where I find the drive to do things, to try to reach further and higher, to just keep holding on. To break down and rebuild myself. And to know that I don't have to like something to still do my best in it.
I'd like to take credit for all that, but really, even if it was me, it wasn't this me.
It seems pretty weird to blog to yourself, when it comes right down to this, but I guess it's just like old times. You and me have come a long way baby, and we don't really need paper or pen to talk.
I guess I just got so used to talking to you.
But somewhere along the way I learnt to make friends, and learnt to let people into my world; my thoughts, my heart, myself. And then the world suddenly seemed a lot less quiet. I learnt to like conversations with other people, and talking. Maybe that's why I can't shut up nowadays; I needed to make up for lost time.
Things are different now. I know I'm not the lonely little girl I used to be, but some part of me will always be that lonely isle, because there's always this little part of me that looks in from the outside, like an observer of my life. And that little part of me, is always alone.
You know how you can feel alone even when you're in a room full of people?
I think everyone does, every now and then.
But it's okay, because the rest of the time, it doesn't feel that way.
Not anymore.
Love, Joyce.
0 comments:
Post a Comment