Sharm's Surreal Situation

The irony of life - discover a kindred spirit one week before my departure to Singapore.

The wicked irony that due to delicate circumstances, I have to put an ocean between us.

A tragi-comedie.

Laugh at life's little ironies, to keep a semblance of sanity in my demented life.

Rare to meet a kindred spirit. I admire this person's professional capacities. Intelligent, quick to decipher my convoluted thought processes. Honesty to the point of being cruel. If I am not alike, I would have hated instead of appreciated my kindred spirit's pointed questions.

No one can psycho-analyse me. I don't think I am intelligent, I am complex. It is a relief to be with a kindred spirit, as they accept you for who you are - no need for nice clothes or makeup, no need for carefully planned dialogues or being coy (I can't do that anyway, it is against my nature) - spit it out - whatever you have to say, good or bad, and we'll find a solution if it is a problem that you have just spat out like something bitter stuck in your insides.

That's what kindred spirits do for each other. Be it of the same or opposite sex. Isn't it a pity that I met one more just before leaving? No...

My admiration and respect for my kindred spirit will tide me through the next steps I will have to take. Some people have the ability to inspire you, just by being themselves, and for no OTHER reasons. Inspiration which has given me courage to say, "hey, I CAN do THIS". How to put into words the energy that pushes you to believe in yourself, to be positive, and that you are as bright as the north star? Only sincere friends can make me a believer. I need no excuse to say I want this person to be in my inner circle of friends. I have always been lucky in my choice of close friends.

But that is not to be. Circumstances beyond my control has made a friendship impossible. How strange are the ways of the world, that sometimes friendship is frowned upon.

I don't believe in Fate, nor do I believe in coincidences. So I find myself in a surreal situation, one that I dare not analyse nor name. Caught between the Devil and the deep blue sea. Surreal - two communicators dancing around words like jugglers at Cirque du Soleil doing an act with fragile and beautiful glass artifacts. Caution... Once the artifact drops, the act is over - leaving broken pieces on the ground that may cut and hurt not only the jugglers, but those along the same path.

Once more, Distance, like a constant companion, will take centrestage in my life. So many things better left unsaid. Bravado a mask we wear to evade uncomfortable truths. Truth, in a surreal situation, though lurking within sight, is best barred from entering the arena. Truth, when shining upon the surreal - destroys the woven illusion.

What illusion we create, what strong boundaries we build, and what humour we use to fan off Truth. A dance that will soon come to an end. No applause...only priceless memories to carry me through life. One more chamber of solace in my memory palace at times when the rainclouds hover. An endless roofless chamber that opens up to a starry night, the sound of waves just beyond unseen, impenetrable walls, a locked trapdoor on the floor that leads to the oubliettes, where all unnamed horrors lurk. More surreal than a hallucinogen-enhanced trip. A self-indulgent trip, pulling all the restraints not to overdose and suffer the consequences. Four days to go on this surreal trip.