reasons for panic

in the larger scheme of things, i have no reason to panic. after all i’m not being bombed, i havent made a foolish bid to force Mr Howard to resign his leadership and hand it to me, I do not drive a gas gussling SUV and though I am mortgaged, I’m not mortgaged to the hilt.

Nonetheless, I woke this morning before my alarm due to an excessive amount of adrenaline. I have two reasons for this.

The first reason is that my ex-partner who i’ve been sharing my house with for the last 8 months post-relationship, is finally moving out next Monday. The last 8 months has not been easy even though I have a fair amount of experience hanging out with ex-partners immediately after breakup. The last time, I travelled to Cairns by bicycle with an ex-partner. It took us 6 months of incessant bickering and mutual irritation (as well as some amazing times). I figured last November when this relationship failed that it couldnt be any harder. After all, I didnt have to put in 100-150 km of riding every day or so. For reasons I wont go into, I was very wrong. There have been times when I’d prayed earnestly to the gods i do not believe in for precisely this outcome.

Still, now that it is finally going to happen, there’s a part of me that is in a blind panic about it. One day, that part of me says, you will be 60 living alone in a decrepit caravan up north somewhere with dreads down to your knees screaming at the uncaring stars every night over the sound of surf breaking along the rocky stinking shoreline of a crappy caravan park. Eventualy, you will die a lonely bitter death mourned only by the twenty seven cats you’ve somehow ended up caring for but only because they’ve finished consuming the choicer parts of your body.

The second reason is that I am going to Malaysia, the country of my birth, in late August. This is to visit my grandmother and also my father. I havent been back in six years. I have little fondness for the country and barring my father, sister and grandmother (for whom I have complex feelings), I have not much more fondness for the rest of my extended family either. I’ll hold my reasons for dislike from this journal – they are rationalisations anyway. Later entries when i’m in malaysia may shed some light.

Ok, so having skipped over the deep, I’ll elaborate on the more peripheral. To be honest, this isnt really a worry but it is a thought. Malaysia is a conservative muslim country where a mandatory death sentence hangs over every illegal drug transaction. The last time I was in KL, I had really short hair (number twos) and everyone thought i was japanese. This time I’m going to have dreadlocks that reach below my shoulders. The obvious will of course apply – I will not stray from the straight and narrow while there – heck i dont in Melbourne anyway. Nonetheless, I expect to attract some attention.

Plus there’s my grandmother’s reaction to consider.

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