Cold Blue

I fucking hate hospitals. The smell of death and sickness, cloying on your nostrils. The shattered left-overs of humankind, especially in the few times I’ve been in the ICU. Tubes and machines keeping stretched husks barely breathing. I fucking hate hospitals. I’m not good with disease, especially of this kind. Her grip was strong but I couldn’t think of anything to say.

She will probably, hopefully come back but I’m sick of the reason why she’s there. I want to whisper. You may pretend to be some holy practitioner of a philosopher, writing religious books before age took your eyesight, vegetarian for decades but you are the scum of the earth. A bringer of death and destruction and the only rebirth you will enjoy will be one of eternal pain. Of course there are ‘norms’ that prevent me from speaking the truth, but I feel that everyone has had enough and the pot will boil over soon.

You there...

With the shaved head. First off all grow some bloody hair. Trust me, the girls dig it.

Take economics. You’ll need it in the future. Drop physics. Wait don’t drop physics, the fittest girls are in physics, not to mention Mr. L will introduce you to white water rafting, rock climbing and drinking games. He’ll also never give you a test in your life. Now that’s an ace if you ask me. Drop chemistry, everybody in your class sucks ass apart from one person and she’ll always be your friend. Do economics because for some strange reason, you will find it fascinating in the future.

Ask C out for fucks sake. She’s a really nice girl, very into you and is quite the looker. There’s a reason that she hangs out so much and does those million little cute things...COS SHE’S INTO YOU!! Did I mention she was nice? The next class trip would also be the perfect opportunity for this. Of course you won’t as her out; you’ll think too much and set a trend for that and quantity over quality and horrendous judgement in womenfolk which will haunt you for years. Also lets face it, international school or not, IT is going to have to wait until college.

Play way more cricket. After you leave school you won’t pick up a bat and you will miss it terribly. Also stop keeping, it’ll fuck up your knees and besides, you’re much better at opening. Don’t ask for your score in that final from the dressing room. Once you do and that idiot lies to you, you will lose your concentration and get out shortly thereafter, missing out on a 50, best batsman award and winning the final for your team. Kick Z’s ass and tell him to reschedule the B Match, you’re in fine form opening these days and you really, really need to open for that game, play notwithstanding. Even if you don’t, avoid charging down the pitch for that ball. Things won’t end well. If you still do lose the match, splurge a bit more and get the arrack instead of the local vodka, your head (and liver) will thank you...somewhat.

Train properly for that road race. Getting beaten by MA is kind of embarrassing; of course beating him up afterwards will help take the edge off. Keep doing that by the way, as you have since you met the obnoxious bastard, you will meet him a decade and then some afterwards and he’ll still be an asshole and then you can’t hit him. So enjoy while you can.

You know that wow feeling you had after seeing the BG Wildlife Photography exhibition and the inkling of going to college in the US to do a major in environmental science and a minor in photography. DO IT!!! Not that going to one of the best universities in the world won’t be a bad second place but trust me...go with that instinct. By the way, go with all your instincts. Really do pick up a camera though, even that dodgy Minolta will do. It will change your life in the future and again, better sooner than later.

Leave N and S well alone. The former will become a royal pain the ass in your future for a year, take things waaaay to personally and then never talk to you. The latter will cause you a very uncomfortable few moments on New Year’s Eve 2006 when all you were looking for was some nooky. They are both hot but not worth it.

Don’t go to see that dentist, the old codger, see the other one, the sweet lady...the one who identifies your grinding issue instead of giving you that filling that will torment you for a decade. Sort that grinding issue while you’re at it. Take care of your glasses as well, square frames are the way to go, in black. I won’t even mention what you are wearing now.

Oh yeah the attitude. Let it go. Stop hanging out with the wrong crowd. Yes it’s cool to be the big kahunas in school with the swagger and big balls, but in the end it’s not worth it. They are not really your friends, trust me. Also popularity is not such a big deal as you will find out in your last year when you get a bit too straight talking for most people’s liking. But then you’ll find out who your real friends are, few but good. Also the fights and the drama are not worth it, they will rather unaccountably make your second year of college a bit weird (believe it or not) and at the end of the day none of it really matters.

Spend more time with seeya and P mamma. Once you leave for uni in a couple of years it will never be the same and you will never, NEVER, be able to spend as much time as you have had with them and their time on earth is limited. You will miss them when they are gone and realize they were the most influential people in your life. Call your mom and sister more often, think of something to say. Also continue that conversation with Short Stuff in the trishaw, despite her uncertainty on whether it is her responsibility to tell you those things about your past. She will be the one who tells you in the end and it will be much easier to fight those demons then than now. Read that letter.

By the way, those couple of times you try meditation? Stick with it and learn how to do it, it will save your life someday and sooner than later is always better. Also it will help you do a lot better at all the things you are already good at.

Listen to Ms. Hellhouse and write. Write, write and then write some more. Enter some essay competitions instead of smoking weed in your spare time. It will do you some good. DON'T SMOKE!!!!! LEAVE the cigarettes ALONE.

Hmm....Anything else?

Well I’d love to tell you that everything turns out hunky dory.

But it doesn’t, there will be good times, there will be bad...in fact some terrible times but as of November 20th, 2009 you have made it through and there is much, much yet to come.

I'd also like to say that you won't have any regrets. Again not true, if so this would not exist. The future you has plenty of regrets, things I shouldn't have done or said and things I should have done or said. But your past doesn't define you, your present does. Which since you are in the past won't matter much I guess. Existentialist confusion much?

Meander apart, don’t worry about being confused about what to do in life because that will never really stop.

On the bright side you will throw yourself out of a plane (multiple times), learn to scuba dive, fall in love with photography and meet some absolutely amazing friends across many different countries. You will rock across three continents and fall in love with the wrong girl(s).

But trust me if there’s one thing that runs true, life is absolutely insane so just enjoy the ride and be thankful for the amazing scenery.

I tag...hmm.....April Fool’s (who else but me) and good ol’ PP.

On Surviving

The more I look back the more I see clearly, the scars of the past follow me even now. The more I pursue the knowledge I feel I need, the more confused I get. Dispelling the blackness in the back of my mind is not an easy task if that is even possible. It’s only now that I realize what I’ve been running from most of my life and now I have nowhere left to run, just a back to the wall and a rearguard fight. The salvation I thought I would receive is nowhere to be seen, but I’ve made my choice now and I have o live with it. It’s funny how something I thought had no effect on me apart from material and locality has in fact coloured my whole existence, made me, for better or worse, who I am today. I kept thinking I was the one who was unaffected, who was above it all. Now I see the arrogance, the blinders that have brought me where I am today. I know now the deep depths at which my gut screamed to me, when and where I went wrong. I think I’m ready to listen to it now.

Surviving isn’t easy. It takes reserves of strength and climbing mountains that seem almost insurmountable, especially in the mornings and the stuffy afternoons. Everywhere I look I find walls, those that I’ve put up and those that have been put up. I found myself today falling into that old pattern, another checkpoint in the future where my life will change, begin. But now I’m googling how to start it now instead of further down the road. Fingers crossed and a strong heart.

Consulting Memories

These two songs bring back some vivid memories. Nervous, sweaty palms sitting in my soon to be beloved RAV in a furniture store parking lot. I hadn’t had a lot of interview experience and I just remember leaning back in my seat, breathing deeply as Rob Thomas and Sufjan Stevens washed over me, wandering what 9am would bring. Agoura Hills was grey and cold as traffic whizzed by on the 101, blurs through the tall wire and I desperately tried to remember everything I had read about the company. Little did I know then that I was a few minutes away from a two and a half year journey. A journey that seemed to last a lifetime at the time but now seems to have only lasted an incandescent moment, one that was one of the most rewarding, most frustrating, challenging and difficult experiences of my life.

Looking back on it now I wonder if I did the right thing, walking away from it all. Of course you tend to remember the good and forget the bad as with anything in the past. I know I wouldn’t give up that experience for anything but it still wasn’t quite for me. The team was mostly great, DD and MC providing their endless encouragements and patient leadership, CD with his erratic brilliance, SM with her mothering, SR providing the musical background, MD with his surfing tales and understated humour, DS being the most demanding boss I have ever had. I still remember sitting in my office and dealing with the unfamiliar sensation that I would miss most of my workmates when I moved on, a feeling I hadn’t had thus far in my working life.

The location was brilliant as well. Climbing the hills of Malibu, the ocean breaking in the background, golden sunshine breaking down the Pacific Coast Highway and Malibu Canyon drives past the houses of the rich and the famous. The chaparral and bush of southern California, the red earth roads and hard rocks of the trails I hiked. The characters were varied and interesting, Bob the contractor, gruff, father Christmasy but hugely knowledgeable, sweet talking the ladies at the City to get what I needed done, trying not to punch out the assholes at the City and County who were holding up my projects.

It was a great trip for those couple of years, being a bright shining star in that team, topping the company in productivity and earning quick promotions, closing out tough projects under pressure. Of course those are the good memories. And it takes some dredging to remember why I left. The 12 hour workdays, the constant requirement to keep running at high speed and keep billing out with no end in sight, the unyielding pressure to meet your minimums, the stress when there were a million things to do and the worse stress when there weren’t, the financial under appreciation and those hours stuck on the 101 in congealed traffic.

Most of all I remember the panic attacks in the morning, the nausea and insomnia, the drugs and pills to take the edge off living the American Dream. I think I made the right decision. Given the uncertainties I face now in making a living, I have my moments of doubts and weakness. But that trip in the end was not sustainable, it was not my niche.

Where that is though, I’m yet to find.

Head Honcho Outlook

The safari shirt and khakis threw me off. The tie was a mistake I thought as we entered his office and started chatting. Half way through I was even more disconcerted to note that he wore sandals, a most relaxed set of attire for a head of an IDO. Sometimes it’s nice to meet a kindred spirit, someone who has spent eons in the US (well in this case 16 years) and came back because he loves elephants. My heart sank a bit when he mentioned that he didn’t have any openings at the moment, if for anything I quite liked the US style phones they had. A Lankan location with a bit of the first world thrown in.

I know of late I’ve been moaning a bit, missing the high hourly pay, ants that are more discreet and less venomous and a room that doesn’t suffocate me at 2.00pm in the afternoon. I would apologize to those who have put up with me without complaint but of course there have been complaints. I apologize anyways because even I’m finding myself a bit of a pain in the ass. And that’s something for someone as self obsessed as me.

I quite liked the head honcho’s outlook though. “Those 16 years in the US, they were good, but that chapter is closed now. You CANNOT compare here and there, otherwise you go mad.” Truer words have never been spoken. So here’s to prickly heat, rathu kumbi, underpaid work, broken Sinhala, nagging grandmothers, squirrels chewing on my t-shirts and fucked up internet connections. Here’s to sunsets, impromptu trips to Yala and Short Stuff. Here’s to home, warts and all.

I promise I’ll stop complaining soon.

The best part of my day

It really is. Watching the sun’s last dying rays explode out of an ever changing bank of clouds. Mauve, red, unimaginable shades of crimson streaking across the sky while the waves themselves reflect the colours in sympathy, before swiftly descending into black. I love the rhythm of the ocean, so constant yet so different. My alone time, my time to bring peace to my mind, sitting on a rock on Marine Drive at dusk, simply watching, breathing and blanking my mind. The crabs play out their little dramas in front of me while the ocean beckons endlessly. A train thunders past, the carriage lights reflecting inside my glasses, kaleidoscoping against the ocean and the sunset panorama. A vision that not the most potent MDMA could replicate. The aching darkness left after the train flurries past. There is no need for a soundtrack, thoughts, loves lost or any base needs. There is only the Indian Ocean, the horizon and my insignificant self. A humbling and liberating experience.

On piecing it together

For some reason I’ve been obsessed with Kings of Leon recently. Use Somebody has been on repeat. I’m slowly picking up the pieces of my old lives and examining the shards, cutting my fingers on some of the more jagged edges.

This house is like a museum, I guess old people really don’t like to throw things away. Today I disposed off all my report cards from school. A nondescript bundle I came across while clearing my bookshelves to try and accommodate the library I shipped over from the US. Who knew the school I lost my Sinhalese was called Reseda Baptist Elementary? I never knew I was so good at history either, I guess writing all those analytical essays and topping my class at o-levels has had some beneficial effects. My cyclical aptitude at mathematics and chemistry was also interesting to see. I think it was all down to teachers. Mrs. S, Mr. L and Miss D always brought out the best in me with their belief and free wheeling attitudes. Mr. J and Mrs. C always brought me down with their rigid inflexibility.

I’m trying to figure out how much of that kid remains, a decade and more on. I know I’m wiser and yet more bitter. I’ve tried a fair number of things on my journey, the drugs, meaningless sex, workaholic, partying, love, voodoo chemistry, yet nothings gelled. I know I feel the most alive with a camera in my hand and recently slipping under the waves. Yet I wish I knew what I want in life, some sort of goal which still seems so elusively blurred.

I am piecing the jigsaw together. A million pieces tackled one day at a time. One day at a time. I think that’s the mantra for happiness, but so much more difficult when I haven’t had a proper nights sleep in three years. I miss the constant companions of the last one and a half years. I know the work may have eventually killed me but those were the worst and the best of times with the friends I had, I have, but 10,000 miles away. I’m still navigating the social webs here, trying to figure out where I need to put up walls and where I need to tear them down. The old threads are most definitely fraying and even some of the new ones.

Here’s to six months from now and the jigsaw being somewhat in place. Fulfilling work, the opportunity to practice my passions and some like minded peeps. It’s not much I ask to piece the shards together. Of course nothing comes easy. Also here’s to this.