Well, that was quick. Freshman year is over. Who would have guessed? Definitely not me, not the person who, over the two years before coming to the USA, had stayed in an army camp for five out of seven days of my life. Yeah, I had some breaks in between, but they were at most a week long. So cut me some slack. It is weird that summer is here. It is weird that I can think in weathers now. Summer, Autumn, fucking Winter, and Spring. I guess it is pretty fitting that I am going back to the land of always-summer-sometimes-with-rain for the summer. It keeps my life thematically temperate. Singapore. I kind of miss you.
I do not miss you for the usual reasons though. Sure, I miss some people. But really, people are everywhere. No, you misunderstand, I like people, I really do. People are the reasons we live; for me it is no different. Yet, people come, and they go. That is nothing to feel too sad about. Friends do not come with life-time guarantees. Do the math, it’s true. Everyone will be happier and better off if we recognize that friendships are transient. All the best things in life are transient. Summer breeze, touching skin, ice-cream.
Maybe I just miss you because I get lonely easily. And I am only used to being lonely in the humidity of the equator. Am I lonely though? I think I have friends, I have people to talk to. I guess I am too busy enjoying their transiency to care and to expect care. Maybe I miss you because I want to stop caring. Maybe I want to get back into the house and look out into the blackness every night and think: it is pretty beautiful being alone. I know, way too melodramatic.
I did not expect that much emotion. I am twenty two! I should know what to expect by now. I know what I want to do— live with art, sell art, make money, have a stylish wardrobe. Definitely the wardrobe. I have my life planned out. Yet people are ruining my plans. It is amazing how much can happen in nine months. If only I did not want to live for people. But when did we ever chose what we wanted?
The nine months of school will only get shorter. In three years, everyone will disappear again. Deep human connections will be severed and the dangling remains stuffed into our hearts like cholesterol. What once satisfied our appetite for companionship, only results in deeper isolation. Then we look for more, stuffing our hearts till it stops beating. All the best things in life are transient— like life. I wish life were forever.
