Wednesday, August 11, 2004

Another KL moment

So I bolt out the door, the heat hits me like a brick...A very hot, moist brick. I guess like a sponge would be more accurate, but the whole point is that it hurt. I'm already sweating. I'm in Malaysia.

Its been 3 days now, 3 days of nothing, 3 days of KL. I know that I'm not supposed to be bored. I'm in Asia for Christ's sake (Well, I really did it more for my sake than his, but he can think what he wants). KL is futuristic and safe, full of pollution and dirt and has a very metropoliton feel. I don't hate it, but I sure as hell don't love it. (And although I'm not so sure of hell, I'm sure that that saying means that I'm very sure). Nick left this morning, in a puff of sleepy laughter that ended with me saying "See ya man" and him saying "Cheers".

With Nick's leaving we were left in silence, with our aching eyes. As the door clicked shut I realised that my trip was over. I'm still here, but its definetly over.

Then a wave of something I can only describe as realization hit me, but all it left was uncertainty. I arrive at home on the evening of the 15th. I'll have a day to sleep, a day to recover, and a day to worry, and then I'll get to work.

Work. Bah.

While we were floating down a small tributary in a boat in the middle of the Bornean jungle, Proboscis monkeys and water monitors abound, I expressed my concern to Nick.

"I know what will happen. I'll get home, and for about 2 weeks I'll be full of confidence, full of stories, and after that, I'll start to remold. I'll be pushed back into the place I worked so hard to get out of and I'll forget what its like to be (wait for it, I actually said it!)...Free."

It was extremely cheesy and the cheese was tangible (Did you know that real mozzerella is made from water buffalo milk?) but Nick, being English, cut the cheese rather well I thought. He always does.

"Yeah, what you should do, is write a letter to yourself, to you in Canada from Max here, in Borneo. And Max here should tell Max in Canada that there is a better life out there, and its worth sticking it out."

Normally I would scoff (Does that stand for Sarcastic Cough?) at the idea of writing letters to myself (How very Dr. Phil) but it being a Nick Barber idea (or better, a Dr. Nick idea) I thought I'd give it a go. So I wrote, and I wrote. I told myself to stay calm. I told myself to remember. And most of all I told myself off.

It took me a total of 4 days to get to the point where I had to read the letter to myself. I'm not even home yet, and I'm complaining about being home. This doesn't bode well.

On the other hand, maybe its the beginning of something. DexIt, however much I hated it by the end was all in all a very important experience for me. Although I sometimes despised it, its perhaps essential for me to find out not only what I don't want to do with my life, but why. And the only reason I can find out for sure, is to try it. That being said, a small percentage of me, say my right leg, is actually excited to see whats next. My life isn't over, and to be honest I don't think its even close to beginning. My leg has probably got the right attitude though. I should be excited, I have no idea where my life is going, if anywhere at all, but that to me, is why I'm still here. So meanwhile, though I might not sit back exactly, I'm going to let whatever it is thats happening, happen.

Though, a letter occasionally Max, would be greatly appreciated.


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