Passengers; Thoughts. 

Christmas was simple. It has never been a grand affair, considering I am not part of the festivities from a religious point of view. 

Came back from a party in the wee hours of the morning. I had a great time with close friends and amazing food. Surprisingly got into a fight afterwards and was all teary-faced. Spent a good hour crying before falling asleep. Woke up and cried again. Took a shower, ate lunch and did some illustration work before dinner with family. Then I caught Passengers the movie at a cinema. 

So this (hopefully, short) post is about my thoughts that Passengers left with me. 

Having been through quite a bit in my short 22 years of living, I particularly enjoy independence. Or for a better description of my character, non-reliance. 

Rejecting cigarettes, frequent drinks and constantly needing my own space, is from this belief of mine. It is nothing moralistic, and if anything at all, mostly pride and the need for self-sufficiency. I have been through enough to know that people are unreliable most times, and so am I. 

But I am stuck with myself, so I might as well live with it. 

So many would have known by now that I seldom ask for help, or cry in front of people or admit that I have more than I can handle. I would rather die than ever be a burden or not live up to my own expectations of who I can be. I would rather die trying. 

Then wouldn’t it be great if I am all by myself? Not loneliness, but solitude. Nobody to bother me or for me to bother them. I exist because I am alive. No need for anything else. 

That’s a very naïve thing to say, though. To a certain extent, anyway. 

Honestly, though, just the idea of having people around is just safe, or familiar. I do not have to ask for help, because I wouldn’t, but just having that possibility there really changes things. Just having them be there, live their life, walking through the streets and minding their own business. The physical presence. The life. 

It is a complete nightmare to one day wake up and find myself the only person living. Living by myself with no one else to connect, communicate and cohabit. Living with all the space – dead space. 

I think I would never really know until what I take for granted is slowly taken away from me – crowded streets and just people. All sorts of people. 

On that note, I think I have grown quite a lot on this. Though my belief is still stubbornly strong, I let myself break in front of people I trust. Because if I love them, I have to break to make more space in me. Vulnerability, honesty and love works both ways. 

The process is so slow and I still catch myself taking a couple of steps back from overthinking. But I am moving towards the balance of the self and the other. 

So thank you for the accidental brushes of interaction, and all the patience. 

Indeed, no man is an island and I am learning to swim to another shore without forgetting where I come from. x 


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