Thursday, June 5, 2008
The radio is blasting, and I realise it’s been a while since I listened to freetoair. Darn the mp3s and radioblogs that customises everything for you. Personalising favourites, separating all downloaded songs into genres, artists, favourites, playlists. You no longer need to wait for your favourite songs to come on air and quickly press record on the tape recorder.
Today I decide that I do not need to be in control of what I listen and what song comes next.
So i lug the trusty hifi into my room, draw the curtains, open the windows. It is sunny outside, and the green grasspatch that I see from the 4th floor is basking in the light, glowing.
I have work to do, materials to adapt, think about, brainstorm, plan, analyse. But there will always be more of these, won’t it? I take out paper, start scibbling down my ideas.The music blasts. I find it hard to control the pen. I’m not a good brainstormer, but really I realise it doesn’t matter. I just want to do my own thing. Remember who I once was, who I am, who I want to be.
And then a gem of a song plays. The heart jumps and sighs at the familiarity and spontaneous surprise.
I kind of hate/love living. It is a comedy act, with our own stage, our own spotlight. In the middle of the playact there are some dramatic moments, revelations that tend to throw you off balance. But you improvise.
I have forgotten who I am in the endless assignments and focused mission of educating. I forget myself as multifaceted. I forget how to segment time into me-time, your-time, work-time, their-time.
I am still becoming. We all are. To say identity is static is but an imposed idealised version based on history. Who I am is a fluid concept - a neverending metamorphosis - a schizophrenic (we are many things).
I need to work out more.I need to eat better.I need to cut down on the drinking.
My life doesn’t have a script. It doesn’t need one. Because the fun part comes when you improv.
Kyaw Soe Han stepped on your garbage at