I’ve had the cold lately and it has really really disturbed my sleeping patterns, though in a good way! Been waking up sharp and fresh and ultra-early like back in primary school, ready for cereal and morning cartoons. Samurai Pizza Cats? That weird all-dark Astro Boy episode when Astro Boy died or something? Anyway, this morning I woke up automatically at 6am and just lay there, my mind still a bit hazy as the fresh air swirled in through the open balcony glass door, thinking – thinking – thinking – then suddenly: inspired. A vision in my head which I had to jot down. I think it might work well in The Secret Project or if not, just as images and feelings from a Friday morning captured into words.

So here, below, is what I scribbled down frantically and illegibly on a ripped-out piece of notepad paper before the image faded away. Names have been XXX’d out and it is gender neutral, just so these thoughts aren’t limited to just me or the characters.

Unpublished Work © 2009 Will Ooi. All Rights Reserved

I care about you, XXXX, and I care about you enough to be able to tell you about myself, and about how I’ve become the person I am today. I can tell you everything.

When I was with XXXXXXXX all I felt – and in hindsight this feeling was probably, definitely, influenced by how smitten I was at the time – was love. And it was love, undeniably, even if I have questioned it many times since…

…and for him/her to just flick the switch like that and do what he/she did, in the blink of an eye with no hesitation or any prior warning, that was just… so hurtful of him/her.

I feel comfortable around you, XXXX. I like it when we talk. But even now, as I tell you about these things, I have this feeling I need to describe to you. It’s an image. A vision, even, it came to me one morning, when I was somewhere between a dream and awake, and ever since I haven’t been able to forget it.

It feels like I’m walking alone on a pier by the water at night, pitch black. I am tip-toeing on one edge and holding out my arms to balance myself, and the further forward along the pier I go the narrower it becomes. And when I reach the very end I am perched up, needing to remain as lifelessly still as possible to prevent myself from falling from the tiniest little stand that remains: my only options are to either go back the way I came, having my path grow back in size as I return, or to take the plunge into the sea with no idea of how rough or cold the water is.

That’s the image I get when I think of you, XXXX. You and me. This connection of ours. And I’ve been trying to work out what this image, or vision or whatever it is, is trying to say: if I turn around and go back, does that mean I’m retracing my steps; returning to my comfort zone and doing what comes naturally to me? But if I choose the other option and jump into the water, does that mean I’m going against my own sensibilities, taking the risk? But the more I think about this situation… it all changes when I forget about the pier and the water and the darkness and just focus on you, XXXX… if jumping in means you, then I would. In an instant.

Unpublished Work © 2009 Will Ooi. All Rights Reserved