Of course it is.

It reminds me of that afternoon. Reeking of a week of questionable hygienic measures, stumbling off the train with a newly found friend. How her one strand of purple highlight gleamed in the sun. American, was she? Or perhaps Canadian. I remember her name. We came from the same city, but as unfortunate as I was when I was there, she had it worse. But she still found it in her to help out a stranger.

They tumbled, tussled, plopped around and around.

It was easy fining the place. Soft bar music played in the reception. But I was going foul. Couldn’t find how to get up to my room. I huffed. Perhaps had I had a companion by my side she would be the object of my frustration; but no, it was just me and my thoughts. Trudged up stairs, unhappy and grumbling. Opened the door, and there were already things strewn over my bed. I huffed again and trudged down the stairs, ready to kick a fuss.

They tumbled, tussled, plopped around and around. Oh look, bubbles.

I had a new bed to my name in no time, no fuss needed. Back up the stairs, huffing and seething. The stench of my being was undeniable. I had to get rid of it. How I hated the mess I myself had created, resented that I could sense my own odour, despised that I had no clue what to do. On came the camera, and the words just flowed through. All I needed was to regain my composure. Easier said than done. I grab my then unorganized bag of so-called-necessities, and headed for a cleansing path.

They tumbled, tussled, plopped around and around. The water goes down. I wonder how many times it rinses them out?

Hot water on a tired body is amazing. Especially when it’s cold outside, and you can’t remember when you last had a proper shower. The one that nearly killed you doesn’t count. It nearly killed you. For the first time, I recognized the pleasure of lather against skin. It was always just a necessity before this. A chore. Something you had to get done. Now I know that each drop can give life to a body that has been beaten down.

They tumbled, tussled, plopped around and around. Did I put in too much detergent?

Finally I pulled myself out from the comfort of the shower, dressed, and made my way back to the catastrophe splayed out in my room. Now, to clean my other belongings. Nothing was clean; everything worn and worn well. Outsides have been worn in, insides have been worn out. They needed a wash just as badly as I did. There wasn’t much, but it was all I had and it was what I needed to be cleaned. Into the bag they go, across my shoulders, and off we set to find them a place to get cleaned.

They tumbled, tussled, plopped around and around. Swish swish swish….dammit, now my thoughts are in the mountains with that prince in pursuit.

The cold dry air blew against damp hair. Most of what I had was tucked away in the bag. Filthy. What little I had on didn’t do much to keep me warm. But I learnt that rain is your friend. It somehow made the air less nippy. Not a stick of beauty radiated from me. Not that it ever has, but at least I was clean now. Fragrant, even. If you enjoy the scent of antibacterial body wash.

They tumbled, tussled, plopped around and around. It’s a good thing that happened. At least I know I’ll survive this one, if I just wait it out long enough. Yes, I’ll be just fine. Just turn a blind eye, and refrain from inflicting self-agony. Ughh, easier said than done.

 

Finding the place was not easy. I was already bad with directions, and everything was just closed. The few that were open had no idea what I was talking about, and no one I stopped could help out either. I huffed again. Mood was getting darker and grimmer by the minute. Up and down the same streets again and again, it was just nowhere to be found. If bad mood had a name, mine would have been it at that time. Back to where I started, and other than an umbrella they lent me, the directions just did not help me get there.

They tumbled, tussled, plopped around and around. Ah, there’s my sock.

I finally found a place that probably would know, summoned the courage to walk in, and asked. It was nearby. Thank God. I got there within a couple of minutes. Glory is to those who walk the blessed path. Finally. I was there. Backpack slides off, and I head to the machine. Oh no. How do I operate them? Where are the instructions? Yes, but where are the instructions that I can actually read? Again the clouds came over my already grim mood. Shake it off. There’s a girl sitting at the corner. Shall I ask her? Yes, I shall.

They tumbled, tussled, plopped around and around. Ok, out with the damp, over to the heat. I wonder if this’ll ruin them in the long run. But what choice do I have? Plus, it feels so nice to take them out so fuzzy and warm.

She was really nice. We talked, and she helped me read the bus routes. Gave me directions, and little tips and tricks. She was in tears. I offered a hug. She seemed glad to receive it. I was shivering, and she didn’t seem to notice. We talked and talked, and she offered to help in case I ever got stuck. I was glad. We never actually heard from one another again. But she was there when I needed her, and perhaps I had to get there at that time (and not earlier) because I had to be there for her as well.

They tumbled, tussled, plopped around and around. The bed was warm, and was what was needed after a long time.

 

 

 

 

 

Each week I have the pleasure of revisiting that memory. It brings thoughts like these to mind. I am in agony at the moment, but remembering what I got through, remembering that these pains are not first scars, I know I will pull through. I will be in need, and I’ve learnt that that is fine. There are good people out there, who help out of the goodness of their heart. As long as you are one of those good people, you are entitled to have faith in the goodness of others. Be true to what you believe is good. Be that. Have faith that others with that same goodness will find their way into your life. Your paths may only cross for a moment, and that’s fine. Some will stay. You’ve seen that. You still have that. Treasure it.

 

 

Each week, I will face you. May it bring me many more inspirations.

 

 

 

Except for the mosquitoes. Don’t bring me any more of those.