I stand on my own

Oct 26, 2007 15:08


 My life's a mess, my heart aches.
This morning while riding in my dad's car, we almost met an accident because the truck driver wasn't looking at the road. My dad used the horn and he then swerved to the side quickly and so vigorously it seemed as though that massive thing would topple over. Well I suppose I was lucky, but really, I wish I died then.

This journal has served me well in letting me pen my thoughts and the writing has paid off. I did good for my first essay, but it doesn't help much in my mess of a life.
This journal is CLOSED. I'll be creating a new one, strangers and selected people only. Till then all you anonymous readers, you may say hi now if you wish. Comments are screened.


 

"Perspiration trickled down my face and my neck as I walked in the sweltering heat. Once rundown and battered shop houses, now restored, lined the narrow street. Wiping the moisture off with the back of one hand, I stopped to marvel at the bales of gorgeous fabric that crowd the pavements. Amidst the heady smells, the rainbow hues, vibrant colours and brilliant pigments of the textiles were quite a sight as I continued my walk along this magnificent lane.

Friendly faces greeted me, yet the dealings of shopkeepers and customers, the different languages used formed a cacophony of sound that was slightly unpleasant to the ears. The massive amount of cane, rattan and straw weaved goods and basket ware spilled onto the sidewalk, having little space in the shops as they, too, stock leather handbags, and cloisonné boxes, serving trays and other lovely trinkets and keepsakes. Carefully avoiding them, I progressed further down and noticed that all walks of life came here to savour the rich, intense culture. Many shuffled over to the focal of the Muslim community, the Sultan Mosque, seemingly in a hurry. Paying little attention to the rush of some, I had exquisite and delicate silk slip though my fingers like fluid, leaving a cool feel that sent a tingle down my spine. With a turn of the head, I saw other luxurious fabrics such as cotton georgette, chiffon, French lace and velvet imported from all over. Wholesale and retail textile merchants dominate the area, catering to the needs of the ethnic group. Little alleys were also found to lead to other places of interest where people meet for several occasions.

The musty smell of the carpets tickled the tip of my nose just moments before I arrived at the entrance of Sarvan's Carpets. Being one of few shops not selling textiles and fabrics, I poked my head in with much curiosity. The thick, lush carpets that draped over the walls and doorways seemed pretty inviting as I got a little dizzy from the heat. Ironically, there was not a person in sight. Not a customer, nor the shopkeeper. "Hello?" I called out, to no avail. Undressing my feet, I let my inquisitive mind take over. I took careful and light steps forward, entering the shop. My feet sank into the plush carpet with each step I took. My mind and body started to relax as I entered the sanctuary.

The outside world seemed to fade away slowly and I had a feeling of peace surge through. My heavy eyelids fluttered. Taking little notice of the smoke emanating from the corner of the room, I began to brush my hand against the soft carpet fibres as if preparing a bed for sleep. Soon the muscles in my limbs started to weaken and I fell gently on the warm, agreeable Arabic carpet. Then, I spotted a blurry figure emerge with a lamp from the source of the smoke. It was moving towards me. I squinted, "Who are..." But before I could finish my sentence, my fluttering eyelids covered my eyes and I went into a coma."

PS. I don't know how I lost so much in one year, heck in one week. I think I'm losing my mind too.
PPS. I wonder how long this will keep up.
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