Ramblings

I sat in the flight and soon after we took off the air hostesses came to offer cups of tea or coffee. I requested for some tea and they complied. The plane jerked a little as we got some turbulent weather but I held on to my cup for dear life cuz I knew the tea was hot enough to probably burn me if it spilled. Or at least hurt a bit! As the plane steadied a little, I put the sugar and cream into the tea and took my first sip. It was so good that I hungrily gulped it all down to the last sip. And I sat and throught about Rachel and the kind of life she lived. I wasn’t far enough into the book to know her very well. Or at all to be very honest. But I wanted to know and I couldn’t read fast enough and so my imagination has to suffice, I suppose. And so here I sat, thinking about what kind of a woman she was and what was it that had gone wrong in her life. Why is it that she wouldnt, or perhaps couldn’t bare to, look at her first house. What had gone down there? And suddenly I was imagining a whole life for her. What could have happened and what could happen. And then the irony struck me. Rachel herself was sitting on the train and imagining the lives of Jason and Jess and here I was imagining hers! Something about this seemed strange to me, almost funny to be honest. But it really wasn’t. I’m sure all the people who have an overactive imagination like mine do this, don’t they? Make up theories and have daydreamers and imagine what other people’s lives have been like and what they will be like. Or maybe I shouldn’t make presumptions. Maybe it’s just me. I guess I’ll never know. And strangely enough, that’s kind of exciting. Even though I could know someone really well, I still might not know what goes on in their minds or what they’ve been through in their lives. I want to. And I will try to. But sometimes not knowing can be quite interesting as it keeps me yearning for more. On the flip side, it can also be slightly scary. It’s the same thing about me imagining Rachel’s life. I honestly don’t know what her reality is. At least I don’t know yet. I hope to find out soon. I really do. But at the same time, I also kind of don’t. Cuz by not knowing, I can make her out to be whoever I want. Of course I wouldn’t do this to someone I actually knew. People deserve to be known and appreciated for who they really are and not what we think or want them to be. Or at least so I believe. But my curiosity is getting the better of me, fortunately or unfortunately and I need to know what is going on with Rachel. So I will go back to flipping through the pages of my book. But saying that feels so mundane. Maybe I should say something really romantic like I should go back into Rachel’s world or something like that but then again, I wonder if I’m ever really going to be in Rachel’s world. Can I ever be? And do I want to be? All these thoughts run through my head as I sit on the plane. The cries of the little child sitting next to me bring me back to my reality occasionally. And by that I mean every half an hour or so. And I just wonder whether I should just accept my reality cuz I can’t change it or whether I should spend my life daydreaming about all the things that could be, in my life and in others’. And I come to the conclusion that neither one without the other is healthy for me. So while I must accept my reality, I can also day dream about things and make up theories as long as I don’t get extremely carried away I suppose. Or actually, maybe even that is okay every once in a while. But I have digressed from where I started. Wait, where did I start? All I know is I’m come a long way from there and I feel like the way taught me things and made me realise things and for that I’m eternally grateful.

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