good morning

"Good morning!" said Bilbo, and he meant it. The sun was shining, and the grass was very green. But Gandalf looked at him from under very long bushy eyebrows that stuck out further than the brim of his shady hat.

"What do you mean?" he said. "Do you wish me a good morning, or mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not; or that you feel good this morning; or that it is a morning to be good on?"

- J.R.R. Tolkien, The Hobbit

I think 'good morning' today means that it is good to have a morning like this. Looking out to busy streets at a window seat, safe and tucked cosily indoors with friendly chatter, the whistling of espresso machines, the smell of coffee, music in the background, sealed from the noise and traffic outside.

A retreat from the chaos outside, I can finally breathe after holding my breath for months. Holding my breath, because it keeps in growing frustrations, a longing for a 180 degree turn from everything I have to endure for now, hunting for opportunities every day, to escape. Arranging strategies in my mind, taking mental notes of how I can get what I want, without having to hurt anyone who only has good intentions for me. Also, holding my breath because the streets and corners of LRT stations stink of piss, sweat and exhaust fumes.

Some people learn to settle for what they can. They find something about it they will enjoy, find a goal they're content to chase, find a higher reason in the muddled mess they got themselves into. And I have respect for that. But how long are you willing to just settle? You win some, you lose some. How long will you give in to personal loss in exchange for a 'win' that is mass approved. Approved by everyone except the very person who won it. Because deep inside you feel nothing, wondering what the fuss is all about.

How do you live, constantly looking over your shoulder? Knowing that the path you're currently on could possibly lead you further and further away from the life you want? That the 'success' that society dictates isn't fulfilling at all, it's all a lie, a product of hand-me-down mentalities that might have worked, once upon a time, but not today.

It was a time where fierce determination was enough to propel individuals up the ladder, regardless of the means to there. Anything, to get out of what they were in. It could have been poverty, bullying, abuse, violence, alcohol, drugs. All to obtain a sense of achievement, to be someone.

I followed the popular opinion of what 'everyone' said you should do to be considered successful. Blessed with a decent brain and great upbringing, I did very well in school, both academic and extra-curricular activities, was awarded a scholarship, studied overseas, graduated with a degree in a highly specialized course, working in an industry known for generating big bucks, earning a steady income in a huge corporation.

Why is it that all I want is to go home? That when they talk about 'passion for your job', I feel a sense of regret and sadness, knowing that I will have to put up a front again. Wondering how long I can fool everyone, knowing that so few have really ever taken my real passions seriously. That to them, I am throwing away my life, my future.

Well, excuse you, I believe I am on the path to that already. I need to get off.

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