Serban Savu, "65-0944-2" (2009)
One wonders what difference it really makes, crossing the imaginary crevice that separates one decade from another.
Numerical? Chronological? Well, ICA duly notified me to replace my NRIC...
Biological? Physiological? I ain't got ticking ovaries... Just recovered from a really awful throat inflammation thought.
Philosophical? Hmmmm... Yeah wisdom piles on together with love handles.
Can't say I've much to boast about. Can't say I've little to complain about. But one thing I am determined is to be thankful and grateful for what I have. In fact, a guilty sense that I've been laid back points to the gaps and inadequacies and boo-boos I've accumulated.
So many years on and some idiosyncrasies still dog me. But at least a certain still quiet voice grows stronger and clearer. Might I never lose touch with that which keeps me grounded and going day after day.
You know, if "I think, therefore I am", then I'm afraid there's so much of me that I'm awfully undecided. But again, at least I've realised that my gut has been my best friend. Not for binging but for decision making. And this afternoon, I told this to a colleague.
Finally, sleep. Like oxygen, it's necessary. But like a boy, curious and untried, we try to test how long we can go without it because we shoot off to breathe in slumberland.