Wait
Sunday, August 06, 2006
Wait
We are always waiting for something,arent we?Waiting for something to happen,to change,waiting for an absolution.You see it everyday,downtown at the bus stop,with people waiting for trains ans buses.With your chin to your palm you wait for some music download to complete.In lifts,people tap the tip of their shoes against the floor,staring at the numbers as they blinked quietly,counting up or down,depending.
As much as life is part of death,i guess waiting is part of life itself as well,and very much so.There is a threshold for everybody,a point of time in waiting when you just cannot take the way time ticks by with nothing happening.Your palms feel sweaty,and no matter how much you rub them against your jeans they remain the same.You become frustrated,and you start to grumble under your breath,cursing the speed at things were changing around you,or lack of change altogether.Didnt somebody say,that change is the only constant?So whatever happened to that,you ask yourself.
It was a little before midnight yesterday.I had my green bath tower draped on top of my head,with my hair still moist from the shower i took minutes earlier.My heart was pumping with a little anticipation then,with every MSN notice that pops up at the bottom right of the screen my heart skipped,and then resumed its constant pacing as i realised it wasnt what i was looking for.Waiting,just waiting for something to happen,something to change,was what i did for the whole night and the whole of today.
The lights went off in my room,and behind me the dull yellow lamp shone on top of the pearl white table my mother just bought.Orange hue all over,as i waited to the music of Death Cab for Cutie,and coincidentally,the song with your name in it was playing over and over.The orange juice to the left of me started sweating,as if to reflect the panic self inside of me,so eager to see it happen,to stop this damned waiting.Time ticked by,crossed the midnight hour as the minute and hour hands met and parted once more till the next hour.I remained in my seat,with my eyelids already threatening to turn my world into a sleepy tone of black.Still,i distracted myself by playing a Colin Hay track,learning new material by Coldplay and Death Cab for Cutie,anything but to go offline.
I couldnt concentrate on my book,not tonight.I have this strange disease of not being able to concentrate on a book when i am at home.Anywhere but home,i always say.Im not exactly sure of the reason,but every weekend is when i am totally out of sorts,unable to sit down with my book and read for two hours straight,something im so good at in camp.
Yesterday night was a little different i guess.The virus did not work their way up to my brain causing lethargy,but rather the same anticipation that bugged me since i applied pressure to the left mouse button.That anticipation was briefly interrupted by other MSN notices,e-mail messages and handphone vibrations.But those were soon dimissed as false alarms,and i resumed myself,the waiting,anticipating self throughout the night.
I dreamnt of it this morning,and later in the afternoon during the nap.I dreamnt of the end of this waiting,and how joyous i was!I remember rolling off my bed,speaking like before.But then i woke up,and with my toe i pushed the power button on my CPU and continued my waiting.The glass with the drink yesterday night was still there,with the guitar leaning against the wall,also waiting for me to play it,strum the strings like before and play a tune or two.
But i didnt do any of those,to the disappointment of all.I remained at my place,still waiting for something to happen.I am not depressed for this stillness,the pessimistic side of me hasnt taken over control yet.Im not wistful,nor am i doubtful.I am simply waiting,still waiting for an absolution.And however agonizing it is going to be,i wish for a sign to appear just like before,the way the light blub lighted up somewhere between the top of my head and the shower.
We are always waiting for something,arent we?Waiting for something to happen,to change,waiting for an absolution.You see it everyday,downtown at the bus stop,with people waiting for trains ans buses.With your chin to your palm you wait for some music download to complete.In lifts,people tap the tip of their shoes against the floor,staring at the numbers as they blinked quietly,counting up or down,depending.
As much as life is part of death,i guess waiting is part of life itself as well,and very much so.There is a threshold for everybody,a point of time in waiting when you just cannot take the way time ticks by with nothing happening.Your palms feel sweaty,and no matter how much you rub them against your jeans they remain the same.You become frustrated,and you start to grumble under your breath,cursing the speed at things were changing around you,or lack of change altogether.Didnt somebody say,that change is the only constant?So whatever happened to that,you ask yourself.
It was a little before midnight yesterday.I had my green bath tower draped on top of my head,with my hair still moist from the shower i took minutes earlier.My heart was pumping with a little anticipation then,with every MSN notice that pops up at the bottom right of the screen my heart skipped,and then resumed its constant pacing as i realised it wasnt what i was looking for.Waiting,just waiting for something to happen,something to change,was what i did for the whole night and the whole of today.
The lights went off in my room,and behind me the dull yellow lamp shone on top of the pearl white table my mother just bought.Orange hue all over,as i waited to the music of Death Cab for Cutie,and coincidentally,the song with your name in it was playing over and over.The orange juice to the left of me started sweating,as if to reflect the panic self inside of me,so eager to see it happen,to stop this damned waiting.Time ticked by,crossed the midnight hour as the minute and hour hands met and parted once more till the next hour.I remained in my seat,with my eyelids already threatening to turn my world into a sleepy tone of black.Still,i distracted myself by playing a Colin Hay track,learning new material by Coldplay and Death Cab for Cutie,anything but to go offline.
I couldnt concentrate on my book,not tonight.I have this strange disease of not being able to concentrate on a book when i am at home.Anywhere but home,i always say.Im not exactly sure of the reason,but every weekend is when i am totally out of sorts,unable to sit down with my book and read for two hours straight,something im so good at in camp.
Yesterday night was a little different i guess.The virus did not work their way up to my brain causing lethargy,but rather the same anticipation that bugged me since i applied pressure to the left mouse button.That anticipation was briefly interrupted by other MSN notices,e-mail messages and handphone vibrations.But those were soon dimissed as false alarms,and i resumed myself,the waiting,anticipating self throughout the night.
I dreamnt of it this morning,and later in the afternoon during the nap.I dreamnt of the end of this waiting,and how joyous i was!I remember rolling off my bed,speaking like before.But then i woke up,and with my toe i pushed the power button on my CPU and continued my waiting.The glass with the drink yesterday night was still there,with the guitar leaning against the wall,also waiting for me to play it,strum the strings like before and play a tune or two.
But i didnt do any of those,to the disappointment of all.I remained at my place,still waiting for something to happen.I am not depressed for this stillness,the pessimistic side of me hasnt taken over control yet.Im not wistful,nor am i doubtful.I am simply waiting,still waiting for an absolution.And however agonizing it is going to be,i wish for a sign to appear just like before,the way the light blub lighted up somewhere between the top of my head and the shower.
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