counting-down

This is where i was. I mean this post is where i was having my stomach screwed by the return of that fierce ulcer's strike. For four consecutive days for i could never beg for more in life, but to be a healthy person. I was so horrifically worried to have had missed my plan of backing home - to have had missed my family reunion. It is such a huge random thing that has managed to make my unhealthy days, most likely my whole week. And believe me or not that my days in this week have been somewhere between "hell" and "earth", and i wanted just to pick just one of each without having painfully been abused by that stricken disease.

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Having started to write, i could feel blood is rushing out through my very dried fingers' nails. December is still somewhere in two weeks-time more to come and the weather is already dropping down to -13 degree Celsius.

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Here's another winter has started tiptoeing into my life..., a lonesome life that's waiting for a new departure. Counting till that day ahead, it'll be exactly the amount of some years with no extra days i will have done living my life in this country's cities. Been spending time alone at this end of very long day thinking everything through - figuring out how my life will be changed after this new transition and wondering how i will be driven by things, the risky-made decisions(?). This through-thinking process makes me review some parts of my past, some choices i've made and why i made them. I know there is so much of my life consumed with me craving for how i have to be better in many ways: more patient, less frustrated, more fat, less revenging, and so far of more and so forth of less...

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That counts so many years i've been waiting for my one powerful sentence becomes real, the remedying sentence that one day: one day i must return; that i will..., i will always return to Cambodia. So having been here in this country, having been staying up late tonight to describe these things, having been so anxiously counting down to the departure date, and having had things left behind my failure here - i seem to feel that the clock is ticking towards the ending; and there's a shift inside me - a shift for everything.

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As yet, i'm beginning to wonder. I'm wondering how is it possible that i will fully be able to burn each bad moment of my life here with my departure into my brain. I could foresee that it won't be this soon, but hopefully not other six or seven years to get faded away. Also, i'm wondering when i become an alright man, how will i be able to look back and remember these days, these years? How will i feel and understand the passage of the years, the most unlikely happy moments, the pains, and the small part of fun? And if I can't remember any of it, how much does my life ultimately matter, if in the end, there is nothing for me to look back to...?

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Having wanted to end the last paragraph here, i shall reason out that there's no way to deny: it's obvious that there have always been lusts in my heart for all these years in fulfilling my tasks as a grown man, but then i thought of ways in which had found my temper caused a promising future demolished; how madness blinds me to possibilities...; how i let misunderstandings led me down the wrong path. Suddenly, then, thoughts of becoming the greatest son were all gone...

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Wishfully, it were gone for a better somthing...

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