Miss Aida
It's that time of the night when the world is still and silent, and the only thing I hear is the sound of my own breathing. Steady. Slow. Rythmic. That time of the night where the whole world seems asleep and time has stood still, where you feel like the whole world has stopped spinning and time has stopped for you at that very moment. It's that time of the night where you are alone with your thoughts, with your deepest, darkest desires and your innermost secrets.

It is the still of the night where I reflect the events of the day, and cross analyze and daydream about possibilities and meanings and dissect things down to essentials. I am quiet and still and I remember the events of the night. I thought about the events of that night.

Three parties in a night, where I laughed and danced and socialized and let my snap happy fingers do the talking, before the night faded into day, and I crawled into my bed with the remnants of my energy. Three parties where I conveniently decided to hell with everything else and go all out that weekend.

Jeen's, where I caught up with Ormond friends, and we chattered on the sidelines while the others proceeded to get drunker and drunker, which gradually led to people losing their clothes, at which point I had photos to blackmail people and decided it would be wise to leave before things got rowdier, or the single guy who had lost all his clothes save his boxers lost those too.

A pit stop to Fi's 21st, where we walked in untimely in the middle of the speeches, where our latecoming was pointed out publicly and caught in the spotlight, I could only sheepishly smile and wave. Everyone was almost drunk, and for once, I felt removed from it all. It was that time of the night where I stopped and realised that I didn't really want to be there at the moment, despite normally enjoying the company of those there, but at that point I sincerely felt like I should be back celebrating with my roommate, Iyra.

So I left, and glad I was. It wasn't the wildest party. There was no drunkenness, no stripping, no loud music pumping. And yet, just chilling with other Malaysians, I found solace in the company of others that I could painfully relate to. For that moment, I remembered once again who I was, and despite blending in so well with my Australian friends, despite the new experiences and different lifestyle I was leading, it was almost a relief to just chill with people who seemed incredibly in tune with my wavelength. Or perhaps it is just culture that does that.

Regardless, I enjoyed myself tremendously. We played the 7 Deadly Sins, and I laughed till my sides hurt and till I couldn't get a breath in. The guys, sporting as they were, performing the stunts they had to do in order to win their tokens, and being absolute sports about it. And when we were all done, those early hours of the morning, we just chilled while the guys took turns strumming on the guitar and singing songs from our school days.

Nostalgia.

And it was that time of the night, right before I dragged myself to bed with the remnants of my energy, right before I closed my eyes and fell into slumber, that I smiled and felt the optimism bubble up inside me, and forgot about the niggling guilt gnawing at me for neglecting other things.

It's that time of night where you are most vunerable. But screw it, for morning will come, and the walls will come up once more.
1 Response
  1. David Says:

    Morning will come...

    A great post. Thanks for sharing.


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