Prior to the planned one month 'retreat' into the solitude of life that I have set myself upon (in this coming month of July), I have thought of plenty plans to come out with to occupy them, including doing things of which I have dreamt of doing, and yet unable to fulfill due to the lack of time at my work place. Many a time, I wondered what it meant to have more free time and catch my breath on things that I have left behind for years. My conscience, my liberty, my faith, my pace – there were much of these things that mattered to me that went awry.
I remembered once as a student during my third year in my university life, I actually took a deliberate turn away from the usual buzz in life as a hostelite and also a student to remain in solitude. In that instance I met up with a bunch of friends willing to share my heart and mind in a more intimate way. Somehow or rather, things became quite the opposite of what I expect. Realization of the deepest scar of which I have engraved myself throughout the years start to surface, and the revelation of some very deep rooted resentments I have towards various part of my life starts to beg and even struggled for survival in deep roots away into the darkness. It saddens me till this day how much I have wallowed myself in the same guilt and shame that I used to exhibit now and then (even before the time when I have the revelation) thinking that a snippet of reflection would awaken in me a soul of contempt and humility. The fear at night some days, especially when you are all alone in the highest floor of the building, with your own mind and soul left in solitude, you wondered if the isolation from the pace of life and the crowd meant anything to you. I personally find some of those days enchanting, especially when there’s a temptation to figure out the fact of life that you finally find something that you have lost for quite a while. However, if I were to be honest to myself to reflect on those days, I believe that I could have done much more to recuperate rather than letting those days die in youth. Much to the chagrin of ‘productivity’ I ended up bemusing myself as a teenage dirtbag, being sacrificed by the ‘non-conformity’ of the societal standard. Heck, I actually loved the idea of ‘Conformity Destruction’ as the title of my debut album once.
Nevertheless, now that I think about life in a deeper sense, I believe I should make the full use of solitude and being away from the pace of the work in order to get myself up again, to find the meaning of life once again. So in this entrée to the prologue, I would like to remind myself of what truly matters. Of course, being deliberate in the agenda takes disciplines because you can’t just come up with an objective and leave chances running on its own. I have started to appreciate the fact that ‘feeling’ is never a good compass guide. Agenda, especially those that you have truly assessed yourself well enough to know your true potential and what you truly prayed for and wanted to achieve – that remains as the most important cursor to dictate in life.
I was once told by a few of my good friends (having the luxury of one or two that really matters to me – seems to be sufficient to walk through life especially when misery sipped in like hyena encroaching around the darkness) that keeping record in journal format may have been a good idea to start penning down the thoughts, making it deliberate everyday while exploring and understanding yourself more. I used to think of that idea not only as absurb, but also obscene because it appears voyeuristic sometimes. Especially the fact that I have to reveal parts of my life to a book of which could sometimes reveal the darkest burn mark on parts of my naked body seems rather gross. However, in appreciating the fact that scars could one day be turned for glory, I realized how much important it is to pen these thoughts, such that when days come by and I need to see myself in the mirror again, these thoughts penned down could be a turning point for the better.
