Tuesday, January 27, 2009

i, surrender

i,
sat exhausted,
depleted of my stores.

i,
sighed heavily,
like taking a last breath.

i,
uttered slowly,
hoping to catch a thought.

i,
wished secretly,
for all of this to cease.

* * * * *

it had been a long day and for reasons i have yet to figure out, i was just absolutely exhausted. the day was uneventful, like many of my days that week but despite the lack of activity, i found myself drained and highly irate.

i was tasked to drive the family to dinner since my father could no longer drive safely at night. i really did not mind. after years of being behind the wheel, though a part of me still detests the city streets and the idiots that abound there, i have grown accustomed to the insanity of the metro. though the distance to our destination was short, the trip felt anything but. rush hour traffic and my unusual exhaustion had my family witness the worsening of my demeanor and the flaring of my temper. it got to a point where my father, who himself is notorious for his short fuse, had to take it in himself to tell me to calm down. he said this with a stern tone yet i could sense that there was an anxiety to his delivery. sadly though, his efforts to pacify me seemed to have taken little effect since i found myself flare up even more. something else had my undivided attention and i felt my foot depress on the gas pedal as my car steadily accelerated towards the moronic cab who almost clipped me a few moments ago. my family disappeared. my dad disappeared. all that was left was me, my car, and the crescendo of the engine as the tail light of the cab grew brighter and brighter...

i felt my entire body tense up. my hands gripped tightly onto the wheel. a split second of deafening silence, then an explosive rush of air...

at the last second, i hit the brakes and swerved my car out of imminent collision and zoomed passed the focus of all my loathing.

by this time, my entire family had reappeared. my father beside me, sat in still silence. no one bothered to talk to me that entire drive. no one dared even to make a sound. as we got to our destination, everyone quietly disembarked from my car, except for me. i stayed and took a few moments to myself, alone. dad left his car door open and wondered why i have not moved. mother understood somehow and shooed everyone away. she then closed the car door and let me be.

i sat there, hands still tightly clenched on the steering wheel, breath still heavy as if i was ready to shout. but shouting would take too much energy and i had none left already. i was tired. i was exhausted. i had given up. i felt a ball drop from my throat into the pits of my gut. "what just happened?", i asked myself in disbelief. something alien stirred. it smiled and then disappeared. my grip eventually relaxed and i slowly backed up my car into the garage.

mother said that something had changed in me. i now believe something did, but i have no idea what it is.

5 comments:

. said...

It must be a shift of something. Don't worry, I'm also bracing for some shifts as well.

Do take care my friend.

wanderingcommuter said...

amnesia is one sign of old age... hehehe... just kidding, jamie. peace!

joelmcvie said...

You've discovered road rage, dear. I've experienced that many times before, and still experience it to this day.

I have yet to find the zen solution to that. I've already embraced the idea of slow-to-crawling traffic everywhere in the metro. It's sharing the streets with stupid people behind the wheel that still gets me.

Hmmm... maybe the answer lies somewhere in my previous statement.

jamie da vinci! said...

i guess what contributed to it also was that i was already at the end of my happy tether? despite the stress-free week i had, i still found myself being sucked dry by other forces in my life. unfortunately for me, when all joy and compassion and patience is lost in me, my dark side surfaces.

i don't think my father even thought i had one in me.

joelmcvie said...

One rarely shows one's dark side to their parents, dear. Unless they're Darth Vader.