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Saturday, 29 September 2012

The peaceful silence I miss

It's been a quiet day today and not for lack of activity. I just don't feel much like talking.. Admittedly, I only truly started growing quiet around 6pm, but that's not a point I'm willing to debate right now. I'm in a quiet mood right now (which may or may not interfere with writing.... I say not).

I was at the gym, bathed the dog and cat, went out for lunch, went to an amusement park, got all dolled up and attended a play. I'd call this the rich life. Rich people can afford to go places and fill their time with various activities. It used to be the case that I got a lot of time for quiet meditation in the bus. No such thing here, as I can't even do the equivalent while aunt A drives me and I couldn't do it either if I were the one driving. There's always something to do during the weekend and, as nice as it is to have plans and as much as I appreciate that they're trying to entertain me, it gets old. I want a weekend to do nothing other than stay in my room, not necessarily working.

TBC (sleepy)

[Morning after edit:]
All right, on to it. Where was I...?

Right, busy weekend. Busy indeed. Today's plans include family lunch and possibly going out to the park with LC4. Still not a lot of time to be by myself doing nothing in particular (though I really should be doing a lot of things). I don't know if it's the fact that we couldn't really afford it, but we didn't go out nearly as often or have quite so many weekend plans with my parents and I miss the inactivity. Whether or not this was the reason for my silence, I can't say. All I know is that yesterday I grew quiet and meditative even though I didn't have any particularly deep thoughts to think.

Yesterday night we attended a presentation of an Agatha Christie-inspired play. I've decided I don't really like who-did-it's: once you find out who the killer is, the book loses its charm and has nothing to offer. I'm not sure I phrased this very nicely last night when I was asked if I'd go ahead and read the books now that I'd seen the play. As for the play? I won't say it was bad, but I can't say it was brilliant. I understand that the characters are supposed to have a British accent. I don't understand why only some actors stuck to this idea. It was silly, really: either they all use British accents or they all don't. Only some did and out of those only one could really pull it off.

Other than that, there were a few rookie instants where an actor or three forgot the lines and stumbled on the wrong words, which was not so bad, and then there's the acting. Again, not bad bad but not exactly brilliant. Actually, come to think of it, the few plays I saw in university back home had a few quite talented actors in them...

As for what entertained my thoughts while I was quiet (certainly not the play, once it was over and not really the amusement park)... I remembered that night when we went horseback riding with the people from summer school. I don't know if I wrote much about it but I'll go ahead and do that now.

I was given a mare. All of our horses were tired from having been in some kind of parade or show during the day and my mare was an exhausted mare. The poor dear kept falling behind the others and would get whipped by the young man helping keep the horses from going so slowly. I wished I could tell her to go just a tiny bit faster, if only so she wouldn't get hurt (or so scared, the whip terrified her). At one point, when we were so far behind that there were no horses ahead of us for quite a long stretch, she broke into a gallop. All of a sudden. Not because she'd been hit, not because I did anything (I was having a lovely time just looking out into the night, the trees, the bushes, the lit houses along the way, the mountains...). 

She broke into a gallop, which caught me off-guard, and though I was a little scared that I might fall off (after all, it had been a very long time since I was on a horse and I don't suppose it had gone very fast then), it was liberating. I worried that my earrings would fall off, that my hair would get tangled, that I wouldn't be able to hold on to her anymore. And then I didn't. I just enjoyed the breeze, the otherworldly (for me) "wildness" of the speed, the freedom (Lady Godiva, anyone?), the fact that we were quite far apart from the others. If I remember correctly, I actually smiled with excitement.

It was that night that I first talked to SmTn, you know. A part of me started wondering if it wasn't all a very theatrical series of events, with him having noticed me horseback riding when I was least aware of the presence of others, when I was as "myself" as I remember being in a very long time. I wonder now just how much like the mare I am.

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