Storming


There’s a delicious storm outside.

the sky is red
the rain falls in torrents
and the wind comes in gusts against the window panes.

if only storms at this hour meant

you could stay up to watch them
forehead pressed against cool glass
untamed rivulets separated from your fingertips by centimeters

when that becomes temptation too much
perhaps even go outside for the full taste
being in the heart of magnificence
feeling pelting drops of water on your skin and in your hair and eyes
getting soaked and chilled to the bone

and not go to work tomorrow.

Instead, I shut my windows tight
so that nothing gets wet.
close my curtains
so I can’t see the lightning.
The thunder is muffled and far away.

and be thankful, I suppose, I can shut out the storm
turn out the lights
snuggle under the covers
warm, dry and oblivious in my modern cave
and try to go to sleep.

Freedom


It’s when you’re thrown in darkness that you most appreciate the light, when you’ve been in the scorching sun that you most appreciate the shade, when you’re parched that you most appreciate water… I’m sure you know all this.

It’s only been three weeks since I started work work proper and woah, the freedom each Friday/Saturday and especially today with a one week break coming, tastes so sweet. The freedom to be wandering around aimlessly and not worry about getting home to get work done, or to get sleep. The freedom to wonder to yourself, where should I go next? and know that it really doesn’t matter– I can wander for a few more hours or I can go home, it’s entirely up to me.

Not to mention the freedom to wear something other than collared shirt and pants, and the freedom to actually style my hair something other than boring neat and normal, and the freedom to  paint my nails odd colours and…

Too bad my freedom will never last long enough for me to have the freedom to have funky hair…

This afternoon we were about to jay walk across the road and the group of us were like um, no so nice right, for us as what we are, to jay walk? One of the girls exclaimed, we have no freedom!

I was scrolling through my facebook newsfeed and saw pinkdot calling for volunteers. As a civil servant and especially this kind of civil servant, am I not allow to volunteer for pink dot? Is my freedom really that restricted?

Can I survive three years in this environment, with these restrictions? To put a part of me (a large part?) on hold and behind bars for now? How sweet will the freedom taste after three whole years? Or would I be ‘tamed’ by then and these things no longer freedoms that I crave but mere wild fancies that I can easily do without? Would I find that it was those childish whims that were restricting me and holding me back, keeping me from reaching my full potential and leading a productive life?

Freedom to be who you want to be versus the freedom to fit in and live a normal, respectable life. How important is the freedom to be whatever you want to be, do whatever you want to do… compared to all the other priorities in life?