It was an on the spur ride

              
Let me paint you a picture here. A picture of what I did. 

I roamed around these streets filled with skyscrapers that soared up so high in the sky. 
I knew they are so high because I simply could not get them all to fit in one frame on the shot I wanted to take.
I feel oddly at home even though the home I once was in was miles away.
I felt at home when I came here, I guess it was those big blue windows that reflected light made it home. It was perhaps those big skyscrapers in the city and the bay front I once knew of made it home.  

After admiring the building, I walked along the bay, A view that needed admiration. Everything lining up waiting to be awed and gawked upon. 
I took selfies of myself being happy and silly to capture these moments, so that when I look back on these pictures, I am able to remember the moment and what I liked to do. 
Looking at the water, then onto the buildings and the statues felt pleasant and calm. 
It gave me a whiff of nostalgia and provided me with the city magic I needed. 
I was alone in this adventure of mine. 

Right beside the bay walk, there was a small green ground where the food festival was about to take place.
I saw families, friends, couples walk hand in hand smiling and admiring.
I liked the presence of myself. I could not create any chaos or unhappiness to myself in such places.
I admire being in them but could not help on how it would feel if I were to be with family, friends or a lover. 
A moment of happiness couldn't seem to last longer than a few minutes before the storm hits my family. It doesn't happen all time but it happens. I wasn't keen on taking that chance, not today. 
 
I saw people eat the delicacies from different stalls with their friends and family. Enjoying and laughing, having a good time. Being around this whole celebration and looking at it made me feel awkward. 
It made me feel like I was supposed to be with someone, anyone just so that I could pass as someone blending with the crowd. 
I then looked around if there were people like me, alone and enjoying.
Not a lot were there but yes, there were some. 
I realized then, why am I being so bothered about this? I am having fun and enjoying. Isn’t that the point after all? 
Why risk bringing a factor that could cause you to frown and worry? 

The past and the present has made me afraid to bring along a family along with these adventures. My happiness fades away as soon as a dispute occurs. It happens quite commonly. 
Sometimes I think it is me. I think I could be the reason these moments of unhappiness occur. The past and the present are continuously proving so. 
This is why I venture out alone, not that I don’t mind it most of the times, but sometimes when it gets lonely, it is good to have a hand with you. 
I look out to the world and then look at the other people
Is it something that’s wrong with me or am I just different with my approach? 
I wish I had something of that sorts.
This is all I know
This is what I know how to do 
 

I was right after all. I ended up to go on and have a great time being in the celebrations.
It was because there was no one in that present moment who was capable to ruin my happiness and contentment I felt.
For a fact I know that I love to explore by myself and I can do it wherever and whenever.
There is a unique fun that lies in that. 
You are the controller of the day, if you screw up you have no one else to blame but yourself. There is no one to pin point and blame you for the mistakes caused. No sort of remarks to bring you down. 
You get to do what you want and manipulate the day to your likings. 
It is all you and some times it is good. 

Back to the roots, a celebration.

August 19th, Sunday, 8:53 AM

( PS: Based on true events.

This whole piece was written in a drive to Abu Dhabi in a car, all handwritten. I have modified some of it a bit, but everything in this was written down in the book.

Attached at the end are the pictures of the piece I wrote in my book whilst on the drive. Do pardon me for my handwriting.

Before you all think why I chose the picture above as my feature image, it’s because I really like this picture and well it’s a celebration. I really like the song Hymn For The Weekend and it’s music video. It gave me a very good vibe just like how writing this piece did. So I felt like this captured what I felt during writing. I didn’t want to upload the classic pen and paper as my feature image, thought of doing it a different way. )

 

I have decided to go old school today. Back to the roots of writing. Back to a common man’s tool, the pen and paper.

Being so engrossed with my laptop and keyboard, I have truly forgotten how it feels to hold a pen in my hand and write what flows from my mind into a book filled with blank pages.

This idea quickly sprung upon me when my father decided to take myself and my mom to Abu Dhabi. a 2 hour drive.

Staring out to the buildings, the views of the sand and the watching the buildings rise up to the sky with the sunlight gleaming on them, looking at the whole of skyline in the comforts of my car. Looking at all those above views, I was pretty sure somewhere in my mind, I would be buzzing and itching to write something. I could have noted it all down in the notes section of my phone but I would loose the previlge of writing with a pen in my hand and I would have lost the opportunity to loose myself into the process of writing on this wonderful inspirational drive.

Before embarking on this drive, I was in the comfort of my sofa/bed watching a wonderful heartwarming movie, ” You’ve got mail.” A movie filled with simple yet charmatistic mentalities. Words, humorous personas, encounters and last but not the lease, the profounding quotes spoken by the characters. This played a role behind the inspiration today. ” To go back to the roots. ”

Now, as I am writing, I am in the comfort of the backseat of my car, writing with a pen in my book listenting to the businnes breakfast 103.8 reflecting on my surroundings and everything around me.

If this was my laptop, the grammarly softwarre embedded would have been correcting everything forcing my brain not to even apply the basic rules of grammar, spelling and work into what I write. During this process, my brain is forced but with a gentle push and nudge to apply the basic rules into what I write.

I forgot what this felt like. It is a nice yet overwheming feeling having a pen to pen down all my thoughts into a book. I still could have chosen the later option of noting it down in the notes app but why did I decide to do this? Why in the car whilst going on a drive?

Perhaps I was looking for an inspiration. Probably I needed an execuse to detach myself from my laptop. Maybe I needed this to remind this experience to remind me of the beauties and wonder of the feeling I once had, the feeling of writing using my pen and paper. It felt warm and nice to be reminded of that long last feeling and the joys that it gave me.

As I look out from the small window of the car, I see skycrapers all around me on one side and construction work on the other.  Conversations spark in the car about various topics of disucussion including myself. I sense discomfort in the air and I am quick and wise to go and seek the comfort of my penship because it feels safe.

The world and everything in it is changing.  I feel happy looking at it, my home for 18 years. Then, I feel a trail of sadness looking at it. The thought of leaving it could be the reason. The thought of leaving my family and friends upsets me, but then there is an excitement to return back but also follows the dread of leaving my mom, dad and friends behind. It’s a conflicting feeling.

Changes are different and hard to grasp and believe. Even the slightest move in my world affects me. It’s hard to describe my feelings to to change, that concept is a baffling one for me. It’s for the good and bad, like many of the other things I know. I simply cannot grasp and get hold of how I feel towards it.

To describe how I feel towards it, I have stringed down together a few words that I think could capture my views.

Like the waves of the sea behave, up and down, high and low, strong or mellow;

Like the wind, easy and breezy, cold or warm, harsh or soft, destruction or mellow;

Like that, I change my views and feels to the emodiment of change.

There is another quote as well that reflects a part of what I feel towards change. A quote from the movie You’ve got mail.

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I am glad I took upon the experience of writing this down with my pen in my book. I am happy that I was able to take a quick descison just before leaving for the drive, to take my pen and book. It felt absoultely joyous and warm to head back to the roots, where the process of writing took place.

Once in a while, I think we should all go back to the roots of writing. It gives you a nice sense of feeling.

( PS: Of course however I wish there was a machine that could just copy my writing into what I am writing right now, it’s complicated, because I kind of find it a menace to write the whole thing over in my laptop again but this was worth it. )

My mind and the thought process of it are overflowing with numerous thoughts, but for some reason, I can’t seem to write them down. The irony of it all. I have a pen, I have a book and I have the words. Then why can’t I?

I look outside, the commentary in the radio is interesting but I want my eyes and brain to rest for a while. I look outside and I can myself drown in the drowsiness of my weary and tired self.

I feel like a writer now. A writer in search for words and stories. A writer in touch and connect with one’s self. A writer with a mind keen to write.

This feels like something out of the movies. A movie where a lost writer goes out to a new place in search for inspiration and stories to write or is in search for his lost identitiy or set on a path to discover something.

I am starring in that movie right now, my own life, a movie, but I don’t know what I am searching for. I am on a car ride going to a place, far away from where I live. I am in a car simply enjoying what I am doing right now, writing with a pen in the paper.

Farewell for now.

 

( As promised, here lies the pictures of the piece in the book I have wrote.)