On: Vladimir's Blues
This article is best enjoyed whilst listening to the song "Vladimir's Blues" by Max Richter https://youtu.be/NZuc3_kSRk4
Once in a while, I, Vladimir, feel this deep and aching sense of loss. I feel aimless and out of it. Everything feels stifling and bland. I wake up not feeling like I slept enough and go to bed not feeling like I lived enough.
I check my email and see nothing. Not even sure what I hoped to find in my mail but I still feel a churn in my stomach when I see nothing. I try to think for a moment about my dreams and aspirations but that moment quickly turns into a lengthy rollback montage of all the things that could have been but never was. I remember that scholarship I never got; that relationship I never began; those kind words I never said; that moment in time I never froze still to admire. I remember everything but feel nothing. The emptiness in my stomach, a parallel to the blankness of my ambitions.
I go online and see the stories of others. I see the strides people like me are making; whether true or fake, I never think about it any other way besides making it a point of reference to scold myself. "Vladimir, what have you achieved?" "Vladimir, what has your entire life to this point cumulated in?" And I never can find the answers. Or maybe I never am brave enough to say the words out to my own hearing.
I think of my family. Yes, my family; the few folks that share my surname and some of my genetic makeup. I think of them and I wonder, "how have you impacted their lives?" And I am usually quick to remember the little cash I may have sent to my siblings one time or the other and then soon enough I realize how cheap it sounds to think that a meagre sum of money translated to impact. I think of how much these people (my family) are working towards their own dreams and aspirations and in my heart of hearts, I wish they never encounter any obstacles. But then I think to myself, "wait...maybe I am the obstacle?" "Maybe they would be better off without me as part of the lineage ranks?"
But then I remember my mother's smile and in fear, I imagine her tears. Would her life be more wholesome if she didn't have to constantly worry or put her irreligious son in her prayers? Would the grey on her head be more kempt and shinny if she had a son who, instead of wallowing in the abyss of self-pity and nothingness, was coasting in life, embodying the true definition of success? Would she smile better if instead of hearing my drab and low voice anytime she calls, she was instead greeted by the excited screams of her grandkids? I think of all these and a tear escapes the corner of my eyes.
I remember my father. The strongest man I know to put his son through university without having a job. The man who never complains about the two pairs of trousers he has or the two long-sleeved shirts he wears, as long as he has enough fuel in his okada to help others run selfless errands. The man who recently fell sick and my heart sunk as I realized, "fuck, what if this was it for him?" I remember my father and I wonder what he thinks of me. Me, in this state of limbo. Not going forward, not edging backwards, just watching others seemingly pursue their dreams whilst I sink in my regrets. I wonder would he still be proud to have me as his son or would he rather have a son who was more like him - selfless and responsible. My father, my dear father. I think of him and another tear escapes the corner of my eyes.
I guess one of the hardest things about being an adult is the constant realization of how good you may have had it being a child. How much of the carefreeness of childhood was a blessing we should have cherished more. As an adult, in the space of an hour, I can feel lost and afraid and scared and happy and then sad and then unhappy. I can feel everything and then feel nothing. I can feel like the earth is suffocating me and I can't fight back or breathe. And in these moments I usually see the faces of those I care about and then feel as though they may be better off never knowing me.
But then, once in a while, I do feel a deep sense of hope. I do feel purposeful. I’d call my mother and hear her voice and smile when the call ends. I hear my father's voice in the background and smile at his favourite greeting "Vladimir, my boy, how far?" In these moments, I sometimes send my younger brother a meagre amount of money and his gratitude ring so true and honest, so much so that it hurts me knowing I can not do more. In these moments also, I do see my dreams clearly, even though they be in the distance, far from my grasp but just clear enough to urge me to keep pushing.
Once in a while, everything feels great and dandy. I, Vladimir, sleep with excitement eager to dream bountifully and then I wake up with a smile that ushers in the phrase "carpe diem".
Always Vladimir never disappoints with his articles. This is so right in time, it actually portrays my actual self. Well done! Your hands won't stop when you need to type.