In Continuum.

Run, Forrest, Run!

A sigh of relief, a load off my chest. The pressure upon my ribs could still be felt, that numbing pain against my temples. It must have been due to the fact that I've been pressing the tips of my fingers against them for too long these days, or the possibility because of the head-splitting headaches I've been having. Whatever it is, I am just glad that I cleared the load today, that I successfully moved it out of the way, and before me is a clear road of mere waiting. To tell you the truth, this feels good, and it troubles me why I never took the initiative to do it earlier.

There is a game that my friends played in camp called the Merry-Go-Round. Of course, there isn't an actual merry-go-round for you to sit on of course, that'd be a funny accessory in an army camp indeed. But I chanced upon this game one afternoon a long time ago, and was rather disturbed by the way it is played out.

It starts like this: A guy will spin a dozen rounds on the spot in the same direction continuously until he decides to stop. When the dizziness still lingers, a guy will place his palms on his chest and apply pressure while another guy will do the same from the back, not allowing the lungs to expand for air. After a few seconds, the two guys will let go, and immediately the guy who did the spinning earlier will faint and collapse. Yeah, some merry-go-round indeed.

I think I saw Louise do it once, and he took a few clumsy steps at first, then collapsed onto the floor right after banging his head into the side of the metal bed. That caused a mighty big bump on his forehead, but that also earned him a day off in the comfort of his home. So to him it was all worth while, but as an audience it felt like a sword-swallowing trick or a fire-breathing act of some kind. It was dangerous as it was stupid, but I guess the moment the pressure from both sides of his body was released, he certainly never felt that it was anything dangerous or potentially harmful to his health. He must have felt elated, a natural high, like the way you feel when you run out of air after a long continuous run, as you spin and spin downwards towards the gray-tiled floor crashing down into nothingness.

That is how I felt like today perhaps, walking back home in the rain under the cover of an umbrella. It's been raining since yesterday morning, and I don't remember such a wet March day before, because I remember being baked alive in an oven the size of a parade square two years ago on Tekong island, during my POP rehearsals. Those were the days when you breathed sand because the ground was so dry, and the slightest wind would pick them up and send them into your nostrils, choking your lungs. I swear, the blood that I coughed out during those days must have been due to those wretched particles.

But anyway, it has been raining heavily as of late, and I don't remember that being the case. But as a person who loves the rain - staying at home or walking out under an umbrella - I am not complaining all that much. Besides, having such a heavy down pour on the day of your release from self, made everything feel a tad bit more special than usual. It was as if I was being baptized or something, with the rain tapping on my shoes and licking at my skin as I hurried down the road, it felt refreshing really. Like a layer of skin being torn off my bones, it felt great.

This must have been what those idiotic boys felt like when they spun round and round in the bunk and eventually collapsed onto the ground, dazed and a couple of more IQ points more stupid. But that split second when that pressure is lifted off your chest, the rush of oxygen into your head, THAT feeling is priceless I must say. I felt that today, a sense of release and satisfaction in myself which I haven't felt in days. So much so that with the iPod in my ears, I had the sudden urge to go running in the rain.

It was a crazy idea but I did it anyway. The rain died down just a little bit when I got off the bus, and an umbrella was as good as none anyway. I kept the umbrella and shoved it into my bag, and with a random song in my ears I ran and ran with the beat of it running through my head. Every step that landed was synchronized with the song itself, the water that splashed from the puddles didn't matter at all. I just felt like running, and running like a mad man was what I did down the road towards my house from the bus stop.

It's been buried for too long I guess, and there I was in the rain, running my old-self away. It wasn't an act of escapism at all, but the desire to run towards a bigger better self maybe. Or maybe I am just exaggerating. But still, a load off my chest feels really good, and I can sit down and relax for now, until whatever happens, happens.

Forrest Gump running from one coast of America to the other and back seemed rather silly to me. But I guess now I understand just why the hell he did it. Heart break, impulse, desire, whatever. Maybe he just felt like running, and I felt like running too, this afternoon in the strange March rain. I think that might have been the last down pour of this part of the year, and I guess there isn't a better way to celebrate than to run through the rain like an innocent child all over again. Run, Forrest, run! I shall run with you too, coast to coast, from myself to beyond.