Sunrise, sunset

For the last few months I’ve been in a state of blandness. I honestly cannot remember a recent time were I have been truly happy, felt sadness, actual anger or a degree of any real emotion. I set points all the time where I think ‘if I make it to there, then things will start to be better’. 

If I fly down to see my Grandma one more time I’ll feel better, If I just get this assignment done I won’t be so stressed, If I pay off this debt it’ll be alright, If I get those jobs done for mum it’ll make things easier for them, if I.... if I....... if I............ 

 But these personal goals come and go without causing any kind of impact. I feel no change and see no difference. I feel lifeless, like an empty shell that wakes up only to move through the motions and then retreat back to my room of solace.

I have purpose and potential, I can see finishes and a future but it all seems so elusive. Every day I consider what it would be like to just go. I don’t even know where but the thought alone provides the only escape I’ve felt for a while. And it’s not like I even have anything that I should run from. There are problems in my life now that are difficult to deal with but none of them are really mine. Running away from this life would be abandoning an existence that half the world’s population would envy.

I’m white, educated, loved and while I often use the words poor uni student I really know nothing of what it is to actually be poor. To only be surviving day by day and fall asleep dreading tomorrow’s struggle.

As dark as these words may be, I know I’ll be alright because I still look forward to tomorrow. What troubles me the most is what will happen when I get there? When I’ve finally put these testing times behind me, what then? Will I just wake up one morning and feel normal again? How will I know when my laugh is actually my laugh and not just another facade?

It’s been so long since I’ve felt what I remember to be real emotion that I’m afraid I won’t even realise it. I’m afraid I’ve lost who I use to be. The person I see in the mirror doesn’t care as much as he used to. He is no longer me. Something has to change and I hope it does. This stupor can’t last forever.

Food for thought

Freshly graduated from uni I’ve had a few hard choices recently that could have an indefinite impact on my life. These kind of decisions are still rare to me at such a young age and I’ve definitely began to feel the burden of the future. During the moments of my last difficult decision my mind made its own vote clear by flashing back to some wisdom from one of dad’s stories.

As family favourites go, at a young age dad’s tales were only beaten by a Kinder Surprise chocolate, but disappointingly just as rare. However, this particular one has never left me and I hope it never does.

Grandpa owned many acres and grew all kinds of fruit and veg, but it was the orange trees that dad and his brothers were always guilty of stripping dry. The brightest and juiciest were high currency and there were plenty of them. The four boys would go through dozens in a day, devouring enough for three meals, but not one got eaten.    

You see, oranges are the best because they offer all the advantages of things to throw at your brother, small explosion, stinging sensation and sticky clothes. The long walk home from the bus stop trailed alongside the orchid making it venerable ammunition. Everyday lines would be drawn in the sand and afternoon commuters would witness the closest thing to a world war since the last.

Within a matter of minutes small gamely quarrels would escalates into absolute carnage. Drivers frequently pulled over in an attempt to calm the orange rain, only to be laughed off by four carefree faces.  Inevitably they hit a car one day, straight on the windscreen and out hops a creature that could go toe to toe with Mohammed Ali. Furious the man screamed at the boys instantly freezing them with fear.

My oldest uncle Rob, age thirteen at the time, took the rap for it even though he didn’t make the throw. It took him 2 months of chores to pay for the damage and not once did he ask any of his brothers to chip in.  After he’d saved enough money grandpa made all four brothers take it to the man personally so they can apologies. Still haunted by nightmares from the last encounter they were petrified to say the least (and for good reason, two years later the man was sent off to jail on assault charges.)

The exchange was incident free thankfully but not without a few vulgar words sprayed over boys to cut them down like machine gun fire. Miserable and regretful the brothers marched along the road home without a word.

Nearing home dad was lost to his thoughts until he got a rude shock from a thud to his lower back. Spinning around he sees Rob standing there with the cheesiest of grins and a fresh orange in each hand. My dad blurted “are you mad! Why did you do that?”

 “why not,” was Rob’s exact reply.

Dad was stunned by Rob’s logic after all that had happened. Closely watched by the two youngest brothers he slowly turned back around and continued walking, still unsure how to react. Dad knew he’d get the belt if they were caught doing it again and if they hit another car it really wouldn’t be worth going home at all. His common sense was screaming to walk on but dad didn’t even make five steps before he scooped up an orange and in one fluid motion flung it at Rob. The throw went wildly astray but it didn’t matter, the statement was clear.

I have never really got a specific answer out of dad about why he decided to throw the orange. They did end up getting the belt that night but grandpa’s the only one who remembers that part of the story, and nearly 40 years on the brothers still muck about with oranges at family gatherings. 

I guess this is just another one of those ‘life’s too short’ stories but it helps me to remember that no one really knows what might happen in the future, near or far, so why spend time worrying about it and  miss out on all the fun now.