Foreword
This is a discursive piece that I had written back in high school for an HSC assignment. I thought I'd post this here since it's an important piece of my identity I don't want to forget.
I had written this at a pivotal time in my childhood, having just started HRT and been lonely kid throughout high school, the internet had become my entire social life. My identity and social life has changed significantly from when I wrote this, but I would still like to keep this as a memoir to how far I've come in understanding myself since then.
For context, this is a part stream-of-consciousness, part essay. The essay portions of the piece are in response to Tim Winton's 'The Swimming Chair', so certain parts of the text do extend on the metaphors presented in that piece, but it can be enjoyed perfectly on it's own as well.
Swimming Cuffs
Innate connections form unbreakable bonds, according to the squabbles of Chinese proverbs and opera from my childhood. Family, a nebulous concept boiled down to a condensed meaning. Do we choose our unbreakable connections, or are they the kindred chosen by fate?
Sunlight streams through the curtains as stripes of yellow glow across my face. "Family is the most important thing in life," was what they said. A fragile touch at my hand lifted me up as my eyelids widened to form two beady dark orbs. The faces leashed invisible chains around my heart as we talked, giggled, and played. My earliest memories comprised of such simple love, such unbreakable bonds.
In the sense of innate connections, family is those that are attached to us by lineage and have some sort of responsibility towards us. This was certainly my definitive definition as I naively grew up. I remember my young memories of an emotional heart shielded in sleek sepia spandex, drifting in a waist-high, warm, wet pool of thoughts and my mother's shining smile by my side, "the excitement and terror of floating on my back with only her upturned hand to support me". Simple moments like these create emotions, lessons and memories. These were my first encounters with water, however more importantly also my first grasping's of ideas of innate belonging and family and their unbreakable bonds.
Over the months, my feet ever so slightly extended as the bottom of the pool grew ever so slightly deeper. I didn't really connect with anyone at school. However, no matter what I babbled on, the sunlight always shone, and she was always there. Unbreakable bonds innately emit a sense of belonging. The mellow water was a turquoise blanket wrapped around me. For once, I felt seen, needed, and precious. The dark sleek spandex had by now started grasping a little too tightly. I winced at the idea of eventually being unshielded. It must never happen, my parents told me contrasting colours in the washing machine always ruined everything.
"I wonder if you could give me the number of a Mrs. So-and-So. I think she lives at such-and-such." Vonnegut has written about the struggles of someone connecting with their past. Maybe he wanted to reconnect with his past, maybe escape it. Eventually, the water always cools, the depth always deepens, the emotions always dry up, maybe family isn't always. The divorce had been insignificant history of a time so long ago, yet the water was still so statically tumultuous?
I staggered out of the changing room, awkwardly grasping at the lumpy duffle bag loosely hugging against my pelt. The water cooled, the depth deepened, the emotions dried up, and that shield of spandex that tugged so tightly at my bones was gone, leaving an uncomfortable squabble of numb sobs. The cold mass devoured me whole as the atmosphere compressed against my ears. The flames that ignited my will was doused. Every breath produced a desperate squeal, as my mind revelled ever more slightly at the blissful abyss below me. Everything twisted and twirled in a spectacular display of gasps, flashes, and doubt. Everything was wrong. Was I wrong? Ultimately this was catalyst for an understanding of the duality of human connection, or specifically the sometimes corrupt nature it duplicitously conceals. The water at once responded to my whimpers, laughing and carrying on. My screams were reduced to bubbles.
Relationships form unbreakable chains. 'Dog-paddling tearfully in the wake of a dinghy being rowed away by a grinning uncle', how ironic that trauma is represented a catalyst for change. Everything tumbled and turned and transformed and broke and slowed. The water stopped roaring, I stopped crying. Warm streams of light refracted against the glistening ceiling and stiffened against my chest. They were tempestuous, turbulent, treacherous, but 'most of all I think she sought tenderness'. Anyhow, these apologies were already too late. Gurgles of pops saturated my ears as my head burst against the sparkling sky-like textured ceiling. I sighed in relief for the mockery was gone, for the superficial smiles and deceitful acceptance no longer suffocated me. Drip dropping droplets dribbled from leaky skull scars as I hobbled over to a pool of my choosing and let go.
"Wanna hang out later?" The pool asked heartily. There was little innate or predetermined connection, but what there was was kindness. The water was certainly warmer here.
Maybe the connections that form unbreakable bonds are without destiny. Maybe they're the connections that we choose.
Innate connections form unbreakable bonds. I perhaps may still be firmly attached to my family. Though, I no longer comprehend if it is love or a leash, acceptance or hindrance, the relative truth or the absolute lie, for I am only but a strain to my kindred in both senses of the word. Do we choose our unbreakable connections, or are they the kindred chosen by fate?