generic sadness

It's raining again and oddly enough it was the rain which woke me up. No no, not the lightning for there isn't any, just the rain.
With the rain comes about a usual bout of generic sadness. This is a term I have come to use for the odd tender sensation I often experience when it rains. I don't even know where it's coming from.

There's added reason today, first, I overslept. Oversleeping usually makes me sad because it means I sleep later in the night. It means I sleep at 2 or 3 or risk time wasted rolling on the bed while convulsing within tides of sleep paralysis.
But more so today as I awoke with guilt, guilt regarding the unfinished writing module work I have to complete, to complete by 8am tomorrow morning.
I think about it and I feel sad immediately. Yes yes, so the writer in concern is a little more disappointing than usual and now I may well have to find another... but why only now? Why only now tucky? Why always... only now?

I don't know. Leonard's departing words make sense to me now. Living life on the edge... maybe the bleeding edge, maybe I'm bleeding out but I only glimpse this in brief moments like this.

Or maybe it's the familiar knocking noise mixed into the steady beat of the rain. Maybe the plight of the construction workers are creeping into my consciousness. I wake up to a heavy rain and the sound of construction unsettles my heart. Even now? Even now?
This sentiment runs back to my first days in angsana... or maybe to when I, innocently 7, watched the construction of a condo from my piano teacher's house... where every morning now I wake up to the knocking sound. These guys begin at the light of day and sometimes the sound only trails off at around 9 at night.
Necessarily implicated is what I learnt about Singapore's treatment of foreign labourers during last sociological tutorial. Is this another evidence? An evidence that the country I love does ignore the rights of these poor labourers?

Or maybe it's that letter. I'm sure my heart was okay as I wrote it... perhaps just a little overzealous. My heart raced when I delivered it, I didn't want to get caught and misunderstood, I rationalized.
Fasttrack to now, my heart has been racing. It has not ceased since morning when I was told to expect a reply. A reply which was going to take 2 days or so... but a reply!
I know I'm overreacting, I feel this child in me taking over. I'm in deep anticipation.

I wake up and recall the thing I'm waiting for. The entirety of my being, compelled by the unhappiness which my work and the work downstairs, awaits. It remembers the thing it dropped before it retreated for sleep...


And the rain still provokes the same unsettling sadness. Perhaps it's just my stomach... perhaps it's time for dinner.