Ink Blots

Tim McGraw’s She’s My Kind Of Rain started playing and I couldn’t help but think on how far I’ve come. Just so happens that this realisation comes at impeccable timing. My mind is pre-occupied today as it has always been since the moment I touched down in Jakarta that 17 August. But I found myself pre-occupied by another matter altogether… and I don’t know whether to be relieved, or to worry. Or should I, do I have to feel anything at all?

I’m feeling that good old all-too-familiar greenleaf anxiety when I finally acknowledge that something new is settling in. I try not to get my hopes up. Doesn’t mean I can control the jitters the way I do my hopes.

It’s funny how I found my love for the big city (very truly captured above) after I left it. Twenty-four-hour flight away. And it makes me choke everytime I see images of the city. The setting sun with the snow piling on the ground and the branches of Central Park. The setting sun over Williamsburg Bridge after a blistering day. The non-exhaustively breathtaking skyline.

My heart has grown. And I’d like to believe that it’s finally beginning to receive the treatment it deserves. It’s a slow and (I’m sure) painful process but what a friend once said is true. It could only get better from here on. And so I’ve noticed.

So I think I’m finally stumbling upon diamonds in the rough, one by one. I just have to figure out what to do with them…

… Even though I know that chances are they will eventually fall off of my hands.