Dubai Diaries: SOS
As I walked my way from home to office this morning, hundreds of confusing thoughts baffled my mind. I was so engaged by those fears that I became impervious of the passing cars, the sands on my shoes and even the infuriating sun. Instability is filling up my mind and it is putting into trash even the smallest piece of sanity I have left in my head.
Back home I am a refugee imprisoned in deafening silence, in the office I am the object of perpetual mockery, when I am not in both, I am more so left and lost in the vast space of emptiness and desolation. I have so many things to resolve, so many options to choose from, but nothing seems to side in my favor. I am in a foreign land, and nobody sees the misery and anguish I am in. It pains me to see that these things are happening to me. I am not prepared.
I have a found a job, but I have yet to find a place I could call home. My office is just for work, bare of any warmth, concern or affection. There is no room for camaraderie to develop, for we are disunited nations. I am not used to this and I find it difficult to adjust. My boarding house is a graveyard of exasperation and cold-shouldered roommates. I am breathing in thin air. Lest I transfer to another house, it would only be a matter of time before I could see myself packing and taking the long journey back to home.
I am so uneasy being where I am. Time is so stretched and I am so bored with it. When I am not out of the house or out of the office, I am rather out of myself. I am desperately seeking for someone to understand me and no one hears. I do not know how much longer I could bear this cross, maybe, if one day you see a happy post in this blog, I might have recovered or I could just be writing those stuff in a bed space somewhere in Quezon City.
Back home I am a refugee imprisoned in deafening silence, in the office I am the object of perpetual mockery, when I am not in both, I am more so left and lost in the vast space of emptiness and desolation. I have so many things to resolve, so many options to choose from, but nothing seems to side in my favor. I am in a foreign land, and nobody sees the misery and anguish I am in. It pains me to see that these things are happening to me. I am not prepared.
I have a found a job, but I have yet to find a place I could call home. My office is just for work, bare of any warmth, concern or affection. There is no room for camaraderie to develop, for we are disunited nations. I am not used to this and I find it difficult to adjust. My boarding house is a graveyard of exasperation and cold-shouldered roommates. I am breathing in thin air. Lest I transfer to another house, it would only be a matter of time before I could see myself packing and taking the long journey back to home.
I am so uneasy being where I am. Time is so stretched and I am so bored with it. When I am not out of the house or out of the office, I am rather out of myself. I am desperately seeking for someone to understand me and no one hears. I do not know how much longer I could bear this cross, maybe, if one day you see a happy post in this blog, I might have recovered or I could just be writing those stuff in a bed space somewhere in Quezon City.
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