#46 Monday

It's only Monday, the first weekday, but I already feel like I'm so sick and tired and angry and disappointed and all things negative.

I snapped in front of many people today, and I really feel like shit.

I am disappointed with myself, but the damage is done.

The damage is already done, just like the damage she did to me many weeks ago, and whenever I get angry I get angrier everytime I see her and I can't help blaming her for causing this anger to be planted in me in the first place. She took away all the positive energy in me, I snapped at other people, and these people will snap at someone else tonight. It's a cycle. And feck me, I hate myself for contributing to that cycle, and I wish I had more self control and calmness, but feck it, I can't fecking calm down when I'm mad or scared or tired.

And I'm so tired, and it's only Monday, and it's just the beginning of a crazy week, and I really need a hug and someone to look me in the eyes with compassion because coffee can't save me this time. Deadlines are approaching, I don't have time to even read for fun, I don't think I get to ride my favourite bus this week at all, and these assignments are making me question the point of living, and I'm starting to not even have enough money for my bus fares this week, and I begin to think about quitting college again because feck it, and seriously, I regret for snapping in front of people who I really want to call my friends, but seriously, why am I such an unlovable whiny grumpy person who can't even handle the slightest pressure.

And feck it, I fecking hate how some people complain about how tired they are and how incapable they are of contributing to a group project and assignment because they're fecking busy but feck it, they think I'm free? They think they're the only ones with problems? They think just because I'm all smiling and laughing and capable of doing things before the deadline, I'm some sort of problem-free, super unbusy, free nolifer who only sits in front of my fecking laptop to do assignments 24/7 because I don't have any other fecking life responsibility?

Feck you. Because you didn't get kicked and slapped in one single fecking midnight. You didn't fecking shake uncontrollably until 6 in the morning. You didn't fecking gulp down two cans of coffee while listening to fecking Starry Starry Night and contemplated of jumping off Saujana the following week. Feck it, because they don't know how tired I am. They don't know how much I hate my life. They don't know how much baggage I have on my weary shoulders. But at least I try my best to do my part and not give my shit to other people to take care of. Because that's just fecking selfish. 

#45 Spaceship

Spaceship.

When I boarded you for the first time last July, I didn't know I'd be growing attached to you.

I love the sound of your engine. I love how bumpy the rides are with you. I love how your bell sounds like, instead of kringggg it goes tetttt. And no matter how tired I am, no matter how much I need a nap, I can never fall asleep. I know which windows of yours can be closed easily and which can only be closed in a certain angle and force.

I stick to my usual seat, the fifth from the front, right hand side, except for when it gets too sunny and I can't stand the blazing sun. When the sun tucks itself beneath the clouds, I switch seats quickly in case other people sit there. It can only be mine.

Today was shitty. But when I saw you parked at your usual spot, two days after not seeing you, I felt happy that at least my day won't end as shitty as how it began.

Having you around means I don't need to hop on the next bus, the air conditioned one, which always gets full along the way, and everyone's just invading everyone's personal space, some people are going to start playing music on their phones without plugging in their earphones, the driver's going to get grumpy, people are going to talk loudly to each other and their voice echoes and circles and never escapes the bus, because there are no open windows and doors, and I often feel trapped, and there's really no liberation on that bus. But when your driver asked us why we chose you, many many weeks ago, I couldn't tell this to him.

I couldn't tell him that I like you because you have lots and lots of windows that I can open as wide as I can, and I get to feel the breeze brusing through my hair, and even when there are people talking loudly, their voices get muffled by the sound of your engine. And they escape through the window. Or the front door. And I never feel trapped. I feel liberated. Your aisle is bigger. Your seats are never filled with passengers, so I get to sit alone, far from other people. And your driver makes everyone feel belonged to you. He's like a very welcoming owner of a house, and you are that house. You are that home.

Home. Or spaceship. You're not just a bus. You're the spaceship that sent my imagination way beyond the skies and the clouds. You took me to the places in my mind that I never get to visit in real life. You made me an astronaut of my own thoughts and fears. You've seen the shittiest of my shittiest day yet, and you've accompanied me through beats of Livin' on a Prayer and Eye of the Tiger as I tapped my feet on your floor, trying to bring myself up again after falling really hard.

So spaceship, spaceship, please hold on, don't break down, don't die yet, not until I graduate from uni.

#44

I actually have a lot to write about today, but it's been a long day, and tomorrow I will start my day super early, so I'm trying my best to control myself.

Theatre practice session has been going on but the support from some of the group members have been dwindling. A bit tragic to see some really committed members, while some make excuses for not coming. The ones who came today talked about it with such honesty and it pains me a bit. Because I am tired too, and I know those who stayed back and took the effort to come also feel tired. But I think we had fun. And after the practice, we talked about many semi-personal things. 

I discovered that I am not the only one with a past filled with failure and an episode of quitting. Three other people in the group also ended up landing themselves in our current uni after quitting and not succeeding in some other place. It amazed me, in a way. Because I was so selfish to think that I was so unfortunate to land myself there, but now I feel a lot better that I am not the only one. And one group member was actually my junior in the primary school I attended from primary 2 to 4, so we talked about some teachers and it just felt so weird. 

I hopped on the 8am bus before that. But it wasn't the usual 8am bus. I became the first passenger of the day. Nothing special happened along the ride. And although I've seen this driver before, I am not familiar with him.

The ride home was a bit interesting though, because I did another foolish thing, which was to wait another half an hour for the next bus because I didn't want to board Grumpyoldman's bus. So far I've been succeeding at dodging him for one and a half weeks. I know eventually I will land myself into his bus once again, especially in the morning when I have no other options if my favourite Capman isn't around (it could happen tomorrow...) but for now I really don't want to be near him because he emits such negativity. Kill them with kindness, Selena said, but damnit, you should see how he scolds almost everyone and talks harshly to almost everyone except for pretty young amois. I sucked my Cincau with some sort of resentment and hatred as he kept on passing me by and staring at me, probably wondering why was I still standing, waiting, when the bus home was actually already there. Or maybe he doesn't give a damn. He just likes to stare. Maybe. Maybe he doesn't even remember me. I hope so.

So I ended up boarding another bus which I've only been on once before, and the driver was nice and soft-spoken. The ride was boring because the jam had already started, and I fell asleep at a traffic light, so I opened a can of coffee, fearing that I'd end up waking up and finding myself at Tarat.

After the coffee everything started to become interesting. I started to construct a short story in my head. And I started fake-strumming the ukulele that I brought. And I listened to Gavin James with such deep feelings as I stared out of the window. The man sitting in front of me kept on touching his hair, I almost imagined his dandruff falling like snowflakes on my black jeans and into my canned coffee. Some ladies were talking loudly in my native language, but I didn't listen to what they were saying. Dogs were fighting somewhere in the neighbourhood that we passed. I love canned coffee because it makes me think in such a weird way. Weirder than usual, I mean.

And there goes my day. I am now feeling a bit sleepy, but I have to sort of compose a short song for a tongue twister presentation tomorrow morning. And I want to write a proper journal entry on my journal but my eyeballs hurt. Tomorrow I'll be gambling again, either ending up hopping on my favourite bus or my most hated bus lol. But I know either way, the day's just going to be fine no matter how I start the day. I feel some connection with certain strangers on Grumpyoldman's bus too, and not seeing them in a week makes me miss them a bit, so I guess I don't mind if I get that bus tomorrow. I know, I'm weird. I know, this is ridiculous. But I can't explain to make anyone understand that I don't have connections with everyone. Out of maybe 50 strangers I meet each day maybe 1 or 2 can suddenly make me feel like I have a certain similarity with them, and sometimes I just feel like sitting with them over a cup of coffee and talk about life. You shouldn't be worried though, because it's all in my head, and as much as I don't really understand why I can feel this way, I actually understand that I am a woman who has to take care of herself and not be too gullible. 

But we'll talk about that more on another day, and hopefully tomorrow my partner and I won't screw up our tongue twister presentation assignment that we're not really prepared for.

Pic of the day:

Sorry hun, it's either bus pics or selfies, and
you really don't have a choice cos I am a no-lifer
bus wanker with nothing else to snap. 

#43

Every day I try to open my eyes a bit bigger and make a conscious effort to find a single thing that can amuse me or make me think about life in a more positive view. This requires me to break free from certain habits—no reading or playing games on the phone while on bus rides, and looking around a bit more than usual while walking. I love seeing doggos by the roadside—they're always doing something that capture my attention. Today a cat became that something though. It was so scared to see me although I tried my best to appear harmless. This pregnant cat was walking in front of me when I was on my way to submit my assignment. I know, it's such an ordinary thing, but this is the beginning to a hundred more posts in this similar format I think. I want to start making posts with short entries together with a pic of the day. We'll see how this goes.

#42 Late Post: Yesterday

"Turun malam, balik malam."

5.45am

6.42pm

"There's no rest for the weary, just another day grinding up stones till they turn into dust."

#41

Rising up, back on the street
Did my time, took my chances
Went the distance, now I'm back on my feet
Just a man and his will to survive

#40 Weary

There's a rap song that I love, and it has a line that goes, "There's no rest for the weary, just another day grinding up stones, till they turn into dust."

And I know too well that there's a Bible verse that goes like "Come to me, all who are weary, and I will give you rest." (Or something like that.)

These past two or three weeks have been tiring. The only thing that's keeping me alive is probably the fear of taking my own life and end up executing a failed suicide which could lead to paralysis or an arrest by the police. And I know too well that my capability of still having that rational thought means one thing―I am still in control. I can still do this, I can still live and wait for a better day.

The thing is, in those past weeks, good things still happened. There were so many moments that made me feel loved and appreciated and acknowledged. But sometimes I find myself sitting on the bus and the thoughts come without warning, and I get angry and sad and shaky again.

With assignments all coming in, things are getting more and more tiring and I find myself sleeping at the oddest of hours, and I no longer have the chance to nap, and morning starts extra early on days when I have classes. And on days when I don't have classes, I still need to board a bus, head to college, and go for group discussions and practices, especially this one assignment on a play/theatre that seems like the highlight for this semester's assignments.

Our first practice began yesterday, which was a mixture of both a good and a bad day. I waited at the bus stop for nearly an hour, and the jam made it worst because cars moved slowly and it wasn't  a pleasant experience, sitting by the roadside while people stare at you as their cars crawl right in front of you. I played the alpha (-male?) stare game (that's what I call it), which is a game I invented when strangers give me a nosey stare. The rules of the game is simple: Stare back until they're the first to break the eye contact and embarrassingly look elsewhere as they realise they've been caught staring.

Two buses heading to the opposite direction (Serian) passed by and none came from Serian to Kuching. It was very frustrating, and that kind of gave me the understanding on why people don't want to become bus wankers. But as I sat there waiting, and the second bus from Kuching to Serian passed by, I got reminded again why being a bus wanker is fun. Because the second bus was driven by the Capman driver (I decided to name him Capman because he wears a cap all the time) and he did one thing that made me smile (my first smile of the day, again). I was there, across the road, and he was there, driving his bus, but he pointed at me and made that "A-ha, it's you!" face, and raised his hand at me. I waved at him and smiled, and I suddenly felt like I'm a certified passenger now.

The practice session was cool, and I brought my ukulele along because there's one scene in which I will be playing the ukulele with another coursemate. I used to say that ukuleles are like guitars for sissies, but right now I really enjoy playing it. It sounds a lot happier than guitars and some songs really sound better on it.

But as I arrived at the bus station to return home, my usual bus wasn't around, and there it was, that bus I boarded before my public speaking competition on Saturday (also the bus I have to unwillingly board whenever Capman isn't around). And the grumpyolddriver was there, and he stared at me, and I looked at him with my angsty teen glance. Because I really hate what he did to me last Saturday. As if enough shouts and words haven't hurt me enough throughout the week, and he added insult to injury. So I walked away, sat far from his bus and out of his sight, not caring that his bus would be the soonest to leave, because I'd rather wait for one or two hours for the next bus. I didn't want to see his face and allow him to speak harshly to me again.

So I ignored how that bus left the station at 4, and I was sitting there since 3.15, and I let my mind wander. I was there, in my hoodie, with my ukulele, and I didn't give a damn on how miserable I looked, because I didn't want to really head home, and I didn't really want to live anymore, and damn it, why is everything making me feel so weary. I can write this way because at the very moment I'm typing this down I think I feel a bit OK. But God knows how my feelings will change in the next hour.

Before 4 the bus I used to routinely hop on at 9am Tuesdays came. I call the driver the detacheddriver. He isn't friendly in any way at all, but I still prefer him than the grumpyolddriver. So I waited for the grumpyolddriver to leave, then board the detacheddriver's bus. I prayed hard that he wouldn't ask me why the heck did I purposely refuse to leave on a bus that had just left, instead of sitting there like an idiot wasting time, but he's so detached, he doesn't ask those kind of questions. I napped for a while until the bus finally moved half an hour later.

I was still feeling shitty. But as we stopped at SGH, a pleasant surprise came. A senior from Intec boarded the bus! Out of so many other days, other times, and other places! I swear I felt like crying. It was damn good, damn comforting to look into the eyes of a familiar person who just shines with compassion. We didn't get to talk for long, because she got off a few stations away, but it felt very life-saving because there's that single person who stared into your eyes and asked you how you're doing and it felt damn good to say that word calmly, full of acceptance, that word, that phrase of "I got terminated," and I realised that that no longer contributed to the baggage on my shoulders, but other things are.

And I watched closely on how she carried herself and presented herself to the world, and I realise once again how perhaps we preach too much. Because the way she got off the bus, and said thank you to the driver, her tone, the volume of her voice, the way she gave a pat on my back before she left, it made me rethink of the thoughts I had the previous day―about the sufferings and weariness in this world, and how it's not surprising that some people lose their faith. Because her actions, the words she said to me, it just kept me thinking that if Jesus was there on the bus, he'd be smiling at her.

And I felt empty again when I was left alone. But the brief unexpected meeting left a huge impact on me. I reached home feeling terrible, but the coincidence got me thinking that there is something in this world worth living for.

I never expected my final quarter of this year would end this way. During the first three quarters I was very optimistic and happy. But now, with only less that 7 weeks away until the new year, some days just make me feel weary.

Today's been tiring as well. But I had fun singing and playing guitar and ukulele before and during the practice. And I hopped on the peaceful 8am ride which I really really love. And I returned home on my usual bus, and although I presented myself terribly on that bad day I planned to hop a ride to Serian (the driver laughed as I asked him whether I could ride to Serian then back again―to which he added that isn't possible because he won't be leaving Serian until the next morning), I think I have overcome the embarrassment, and when I paid my fare and when I said thanks as I got off the bus, he answered me nicely so I guess he had seen far worse things than a college student sulking throughout a ride and darting out of a bus in the heavy rain. Sadness and anger can make you do foolish things.

I don't know what tomorrow may bring. Each day I live with a certain worry playing in my head, and sometimes I'm suddenly angry when I really don't want to feel angry. And sometimes I try my best to get myself feel angry but I feel calm instead. It's really tricky. There's no other way I can describe the thing without opening up too much and telling the whole world something a bit too personal. And that got me thinking too, the fact that other people who I've met today also hide a certain problem that's too personal for them to tell others, and that also means they're hiding some pain and anger and frustration too, and that thought alone makes me think I'm not the only one with worries and fears.

.

#39

Go and get yourself lost
Like you always do
Sail into the blue
With nobody next to you

#38 New Page and Snippets

I started a new journal entry on a new journal. It just feels right to do so even though my old journal has about three empty pages left.

I don't want to go all philosophical and say it's a new beginning and all that shit, but my life is now marked by a line and there are two sections—before Serian and after Serian.

Although I still can't forget what happened at 2.20am that night and I still feel angry a bit at random times, I'm trying my best to stay afloat. I'm trying my best to shut my eyes everytime the bus speeds up and I keep my head held high and feel the breeze through my hair and I try my best to remind myself once I'm dead I won't be able to board any STC buses ever again and feel that same sensation.

Today's been my first time journaling since after Serian. I give this day an 8 out of 10, which is really good enough.

There were two strangers who caught my attention today; one, an elderly man who actually smiled at me at the bus stop (I did not smile back and I regret it) and two, a scruffy man who had a cataract on his right eye.

Snippets:
"I had two rolls of mahjong paper protruding on my back, in my bag, and I looked like Blastoise (or one of the Ninja Turtles)."

"The 8am ride is flipping cool. I want to be on this ride again. I listened to the whole album of Young as the Morning, Old as the Sea. But I didn't want to appear happy, because I wasn't happy anyway."

"I'm not really as happy as in the past few months. I guess it'll take some time for that optimism to return. But I'm pretty sure the luggage monster really lost his way in Baki or Tarat or something."

"K and his mum drove past me and stopped to offer me a ride (to which I initially stupidly declined). At that point I think my happiness level went from 4 to 6 or something cos K's mum was nice. She said she's not a good driver and I wanted to say Me too and that's why I am now a bus wanker but of course I never say things out, don't I?"

"She had new nail designs again. Damn I flipping want to compliment her nails but that's a bit creepy."

"It was fun, working together like that. I guess group works really are fun if everyone did their part."

"I found out there's a bottle there, a filled bottle. I thought the man placed it there to save the seat, so I asked his friend. The friend was chill and made a hand gesture that the seat is all mine. I like him. He's so chill. He had a cataract on his right eye. I'm weird but I really want to have a chat about life with people like him."

"Apart from that well as usual I don't want to stare because craning my neck is such a pain in the neck."

"Western guy was heading to Central. Didn't ring the bell. Ironedshirtman stopped right in front of Central for him. White guy privilege. Didn't even bother to say thanks to Ironedshirtman. Funny cos a guy before that (an Indonesian?) said thanks and called Ironedshirtman 'abang' some more. It's a good scene, seeing people say thank you. Makes me feel less like a weirdo."

"Maybe he knows. Maybe he understands."

"I'm not mad or anything—I'm just messed up."

.

#37 Bye Bye Monster

Shut you in a luggage. Kicked you off the bus somewhere around Baki.

That's what I visualised.

...

When I woke up at 5 this morning I almost shut the alarm. I almost rolled back to sleep. But I knew I had to do it, I had to carry on with the plan, because if I didn't, I'd be cursing myself for things I've never done. I'd be living another week of 'what ifs', and I'll never know how much difference a little action can make.

No one knew about it. Except for three friends. And probably people who've read the previous post. No one in the family knew I actually did not have classes to attend. But I had to go at 5.30am, or else it would be obvious that I wasn't heading to class.

Capman never came. I thought of walking back home from the bus stop. Maybe it's a sign, I said to myself. But there's really no turning back. What would you do if you weren't afraid? I asked myself that question over and over again. The answer is simple. If I weren't afraid, I'd be carrying on with the plan, no matter what.

Grumpyman came at 6.20am. It's one of the rides I dislike the most. But at least I had a seat. At least I had a nap. At least it wasn't as dreadful as the previous rides.

Arrived at 7.30am sharp. Jalan Masjid. Half of the plan is conquered. No turning back. No where else to hang around in town at 7.30am. Either go back home disappointed with my own cowardice, or go ahead with the plan and shut the voices once and for all. Luck was on my side. Evergrinningman was there. Almost driving away. I ran out, off the air-cond bus, and straight away hopped on the old creaky bus. When is this bus leaving? I asked. Right now, he said. 

And I smiled a triumphant smile. This is really happening. If I was a minute late I'd miss this bus and probably needed to wait another hour for another creaky old bus. The mission is simple: Only board a creaky old bus. The monster can't be kicked out of an air-cond bus.

Picked an unfamiliar seat, away from everyone, behind everyone else. It's nice to view life from a place where people don't notice that you're observing.

The journey was refreshing. After witnessing same scenes outside bus windows for almost two years, it felt good, taking this unfamiliar route. Two hours. One hour filled with familiarity, but the final hour was really an adventure. Yes, there's nothing much to see. Green hills. Trees. Bushes. Individual houses. Junctions and lanes leading into villages. But the air was refreshing. The view was refreshing. The feeling was different. Proper highway, double lanes. Creaky old bus, speeding so insane. Wind was blowing through my hair. Cold air. Cold morning air. Misty. Alone, but not a single bit lonely. Nothing in my mind. No anger. No fear. Not disorientated for the first time this week. No earphones on. Another rule of the game. No songs, no nothing. No phone in hand, except for one or two pictures.

Saw the big durian from a distance. This is it, I said. I really did it.

Reaching another town is easy. All you need to do is sit. But getting out of the bus was something I needed to act brave about. I've been here, I've been here before. But I've never been at that exact spot where buses and humans and bags and boxes were all there. I tried to find a landmark. The hall. The toilet. 

After walking one full round.

Now what? I asked myself. I needed to blend in. Needed to pretend as if I'm familiar with the place. Needed to pretend I'm not lost.

But most important of all, I needed my breakfast.

So I headed to a shop recommended by two friends over WhatsApp. Mee Jawa is the thinggg there, they said. Try it, they said. So I walked there, and was greeted by an enthusiastic lady who made me feel welcomed right away. I instantly liked the place and felt comfortable sitting there alone. A grandma stared at me, eyes filled with genuine curiosity. I took my sweet sweet time. Didn't want the mee jawa to finish, but I was too full for a second plate. I didn't want to linger once I finished eating and drinking. 

Thought I could find a good place to sit while I think of what to do next. I walked around the market, pretending to be interested in some of the vegetables and kuih. I thought of my mum when I saw some really fresh vegetables and stuffs. Almost bought some sweet corn, but that would be a big giveaway. I'm not the kind of person who can keep secrets from my mum. I don't like lying to her. Lying and not telling anything are two different things altogether. So I walked away. But I wish she was there with me. I often see mums and daughters on bus rides together and sometimes I wish I can bring my mum for a bus adventure. It would be so relaxing for both of us. 

After sitting at a spot full of elderly people waiting for vans to return to their villages, I decided that it's probably time for me to leave. I had walked around the market for three times, entered the public toilet twice, and noon was approaching.

I checked the weather forecast yesterday. I'm a planner. Never been comfortable of unpredictable stuffs. It said there will be rain and thunderstorm in the evening. I didn't want to be stranded in an unfamiliar town in the rain at noon. I didn't ask for the creaky old bus schedule from Evergrinningman. 

The initial plan was to hop on another creaky old bus home. But I made my calculations. Last bus is at 5. The bus that I always hop on from college back home would arrive in Serian any minute from that moment I was sitting there calculating. I didn't want to bump into the Ironedshirtman after the weird question I asked him two days ago. And I don't want him to think I'm running away from home or escaping classes, because I suspect he knows I'm a student who boards his bus weekly to go home from college. Heck, he even remembers my stop. Hence I obviously didn't want to board his bus from Serian back home although it's a creaky old bus, which fits the rules of my mission. I hate myself for thinking as if people care that much, but it's good to be safe and blend in as normal people when you see someone regularly.

But there was really no other option. It's either that, or hop on that air-cond bus that was about to make a move, or wait for another few hours after Ironedshirtman leaves. And even after Ironedshirtman leaves, I'm not entirely sure whether there would be any more old creaky buses coming down to Kuching.

And Grumpyman was parked directly next to this bus that I had boarded. 

Damn weird, because I'd make myself appear like a weirdo if I hop on that bus. Reason number 1, I could've just straight away go to Serian from home without hopping on a 6am ride to Jalan Masjid. Reason number 2, this is a driver I need to see every week, there's really no running away because he's the only consistent early morning driver so when I need to go to 8am classes he's the only one who can drive me there. I really don't want to make him wonder how on earth am I at Serian when it was just a few hours ago I boarded his bus heading towards the opposite direction?

So I accepted the fact that plans fail and trains derail, and the day's been good enough. I really couldn't ask for anything more. 

While waiting for the bus to move, Ironedshirtman really arrived as calculated, and I tried my best to hide myself. 

I like the atmosphere of the ride from Serian. Serian is basically filled with elderly people, and everyone appears harmless. I know that's a broad generalisation and is a very dangerous thing to do―categorising people as entirely harmless. But you get what I mean. I was more comfortable of walking alone around that small town compared to walking alone in Jalan Masjid. Before the bus made a move, an uncle sold buns and everyone was talkative and friendly to him. He sold quite a lot, but I didn't buy any because I really didn't feel like eating anything or carrying anything home.

Thankfully the driver of this ride was no one familiar. The journey seemed short. Along the way, I thought less about myself but more of the people around me―how difficult it is for them to ride buses and get off from buses. Individual houses are scattered, and little lanes or junctions leading to villages and groups of houses are everywhere. When bells are pressed, it doesn't mean that the passengers want the bus to stop at the bus stop, sometimes. Walking back, or walking an extra twenty to fifty steps further is almost always required. And when the bus stopped to drop off passengers, sometimes it's like in the middle of nowhere. And some places don't have bus stops, so people waited by the roadside to stop the bus. What if it rains? 

Uncle selling buns.

I pressed my bell too early, and ended up needing to walk some extra steps before crossing an almost impossible to cross road. I mean, wow, it's so much easier to cross the other way round than in that direction, and that sort of puzzles me. It's the same road, but the other direction is easier. 

I reached home safely. I've proven myself wrong once again. And every single time I prove myself wrong, I feel damn good to stay alive. 

Which is why I chose to do this today. I know, it's not a big achievement. But it means something huge to me. This idea alone scared me. But now I've done it, and there's really no reason for me to stop doing it if I need to do it again. 

The price for an 'adventure'.

In the end, anything can be called an adventure, I guess. This is my adventure today. This is what kept the monster away, at least for now. He might do some catching up soon, but it's great that at least now I'm ahead of him. I know some tricks. I know what will work and what will not work. Sleep doesn't work, I've tried that and it made me even more disorientated. I wish I knew this earlier. But it's ok, now I know what I'm supposed to know.

#36 Solo Bus Road Trip

(That didn't happen..)

It's November, a new month, but I'm still carrying a baggage from last month, so last night I made a decision. I made a decision to say

Feck it tomorrow I will go for a solo road trip by bus to Serian.

It made me a little excited to face the new day.

What would you do if you weren't afraid? I wrote on the palm of my hand. This is it. Let's do this. Let's sit for two hours on the bus from one town to another. Let's unload the baggages throughout the unfamiliar route. Let's feel free. Let's feel alive.

But little did I know my plan wasn't going to work out, due to:
1. Timing.
2. The assumption that the bus will leave Serian after that.

So now I am at home feeling a bit stupid because I could've been in another town at this very moment, if, if I didn't make some miscalculations and assumptions. And the baggage is still here.

And the driver gave me a legit laugh, and probably a weird stare, because who the hell wants to go to another town and come back straight away? Now I can't bring myself to board his bus ever again. He's going to remember me as a weirdo.

I still want the road trip to happen though. Might devise a new plan. If by this week things remain unchanged, I swear I will need this plan to work more than ever. Maybe I'll find an earlier timing. Maybe. Or maybe it will just remain as one of the many plans I never succeed to execute.

And maybe, just maybe, the attack of the monster will happen again, and if that happens, then I don't know what I should do.