The Earth is Not a Cold Dead Place

I have been looking for this CD for so long, blaming myself for losing it in some corner of the room. So many times I wanted to listen to it, looked around and around but just couldn't find it. The one album that was missing from my explosion in the sky collection.

And tonight, in a box I sealed up long time ago, there it was. Laid with other CDs I've lost track of for quite a while. And what a delight to play it again, against the quiet night. What a nostalgia.

Face Fear

I am getting used to the fact that I am suffering from depression. And I look out to my own bit changes in daily life.

Still I fear a lot of things.

I fear I might be fading inwards. I feel so lonely, so alone, and so singular. I have lost the ability to associate myself with others, and I have had my social life destroyed. I literally have no social life at all. For the past two months, I have had only two dates with people other than either my boyfriend or my tutor students. I had dinner once with Alan, and Kiya came to visit me at my dorm one time. That sums up to two. That's all the social events I have had for two entire months, and probably longer if I think through it.

It is often said that depressed people need friends. But where do friends come from? First of all, one has to make friends to have friends. Then, one must keep up with the friendship to preserve it. Then, depending on each situation, this friendship deepens or simply remains. I wonder where I lost it, but anyhow I just did.

So one day when inwards I'd like to cry for help and care, I have no one to turn to. Plus, I lose the interest in any contact with the outside world, so as days go by, I barely go anywhere and barely speak to anyone, therefore it is more than natural for nobody to speak to me ever since.

There are times when I wonder whether I am allowed a chance to make up for anything, and redeem any love, concern, or affection I have once had in my life. It feels so good to be loved and cared. Even if it's only a "hi" or "what's up" could be burningly warm. There are times when I wonder if I should ever be forgiven by the whole world.

There are also times when I run into friends or schoolmates I haven't met for quite some while, and they say hi. They ask me, out of courtesy or sincerity, what's been up. And I wish I could tell them all. Usually, we're standing in the middle of a hallway, both rushing to some class; or, we could be at the dorm gate, one leaving and one returning. So, these occasions, they're usually a squeezed rush of time, no more than minutes. The minutes are only enough to trade for courtesy talk, and the conversation never gets deeper. It is never a good time -- in a manner of time or manner of occasion -- to reveal my true thoughts or emotions.

But still, when anybody, running into me, says anything such as "I love your hair today" or "are you still doing that course?" I feel more comfortable than ever. Surely it would be seriously awkward to comment to that person -- close to me or not so -- that "you have lighted my day by just speaking to me." And when coming to think of it, nobody seems ever close enough to me for me to spit out anything really sensitive or fundamental. To most people, I am just an average friend. If I had expressed how I loved them, they would definitely freak out and step back.

It's summer. Days are different (I wish.) I really feel dreadful. But meanwhile, I hope I get better, not knowing how -- yet.

Last Day of College

Just finished my last final exam today.

It was Drama, and I did barely satisfactory. We were given two hours, but I finished in 40 minutes, and left the classroom early. As I walked out of the AV Center, it was only 10:20 am. I thought I could might as well buy myself lunch before heading back to the dorm.

I chose the 7-11 next to Burger King in the campus. It's on the second floor, and I had to ride all the way from Penny Lane to Fan Palm Road before ascending those stairs. On my way, morning shined but not too warmly. It is unusual of me to be riding "home" at this time, since classes are usually not dismissed until noon, and yet today I took off early.

Just beneath the warmth of an early summer campus atmosphere, it suddenly stroke me that not only did my class wind up earlier than expected, but it was also the last class of my entire college life. So there it was. My college life was over. The end of an era anticipated.

From now on, I'd not be driving anywhere in rush for class, for handing in a report, or being late for a group meeting. From now on, my bike will simply serve as a tool of entertainment, instead of my campus partner. So everything was there. As I ascended the stairs, I was about to grab my very last college lunch. The 7-11 in campus offers discounts that are found nowhere outside campus. Many of my classmates are still in their final exam. Luckily for them, their college life is not over yet. And mine has ended. Right there. On the stairs leading to a convenience store.

I didn't think of missing campus, or missing student life. I was simply overwhelmed by a neat sense of nostalgia. During college, no matter how lost I was, in the long term, I was always heading somewhere. Whether it's trivial such as catching up with some class or as serious as getting by a semester of infinite projects to be done, or even passing the time of an entire long summer vacation, wanderingly waiting for the new semester to arrive and become one year more senior. Always, I was heading somewhere, some spot or stop in a planned college blueprint. The process of doing college was itself secluded by the idea of entering school and graduating it, and I was always somewhere in between.

But now I've pretty much reached the destination, which is graduation. I didn't even care to attend my own graduation ceremony a couple of weeks ago because I thought it would be diffusive and boring. However, I don't regret that. Maybe it's my coldness that is striking me. The fact that, not like in middle school, nobody put up that big miserable scene where everybody cries and laments over leaving each other and the school. Nobody put that up for me, I didn't put anything like that for me, and the one ceremony where I could've had a chance to do that, I chose not to attend it, because I simply didn't feel like I would be emotional there.

My bonds to this school does not lie on that ceremony, and anything concerning me and the school could not be revealed in an occasion like that. I was not close to my classmates, or to say they were not close to me, and nobody ever cared to be too close to me. So, my memories and sentiments do not lie in that ceremony. My affection and reminiscences are wild spread over the whole campus. In every little corner, every edifice, every little detail that consists this secluded little isle.

I could draw all the incidents that ever happened in each corner of the campus. Knowing I'll never be back, I wonder how I got by these whole four years. Did I make friends? Did I make real close friends? Do I have friends who care about me? Did I learn much? Did I appreciate literature in a manner that as I age, I'll look back to it as the sweetest love affair with words? Did I lead a normal, average, should-be college life like any other college student? Did I, or did I not? What have I accomplished, learned, taken, or better -- given -- during these four years?

The trip from 7-11 back to dorm was short. Mere minutes. Some ten, fifteen people passed by me as I rode silently. Will somebody, or something, ever miss me? Do I dare come back in 10, 20 years to face my own reminiscences and evaluate myself as who I once were?

The journey was so silent. Maybe none of the passers-by laid eyes on me. And that is how my college life comes to an end. Silently, unnoticed, and sinking.

Depression

June is almost over.
I wish my depression will be over soon, too.