It's My Party

TUMULTUOUS. Such is a word that only has a vague meaning when you read it. It is only now that I fully understand the word. Now that I felt it. The tumultuous past few weeks, that shall inevitably lead to the climax of my life chapter entitled Doha, have been a time filled with personal struggle--of body, mind, emotion and soul.

I have kept my promise not to cry here. It wasn't easy. I had to continually remind myself that my sadness is nothing compared to the sadness of others here working in worse conditions. Still it is my sadness and I thought that maybe, I should break that promise come my birthday. It's my party and I'll cry if I want to, so the song goes. I just might.

There are so many things going on in my head and heart that any sad word or song or picture can bring me to tears. But I've developed this habit of stopping them halfway. Imagine an unconsummated orgasm. It stings my eyes. It stings my heart.

For instance, I was in Hong Kong Airport five months ago and I'm lugging around this large tube full of rolled-up Hong Kong posters. I complained that of all presents for the boss, my mom thought of such a bulky thing to give. When I arrived in Qatar, the boss proudly framed and hung these posters in every room around the office walls. This morning, I arrived at the office with a heavy feeling (which seems common nowadays) and plopped on the sofa fronting the reception counter. I plugged my earphones, listened to some recent downloads and got lost in my own sad world. Then, Jewel sang: "it's 4 in the afternoon, I'm on a flight leaving LA, trying to figure out my life, my youth scattered along the highway". And I looked ahead right in front of me and there, in it's faux golden frame, is the poster of an aerial view of Hong Kong International Airport. Cliche as it may seem, any good director or editor filming my life won't resist the urge to dissolve from my point of view of this framed image on a wall to my actual POV of the same view as I have my little happy ending with the plane touching down in Hong Kong. Now, tell me if that is not worthy of a single teardrop. But I did not budge. Not just yet.

Books, movies and music seem to offer false hope but I bite into it because at this point, believing is better than dreaming. Believing that things will work out fine. Believing in karma once again, that surely, something as tumultuous as this will have its equivalent word, one that also means vague until you actually feel it: calm.

It's my party.mp3