Reflections from over the Sea

People are such strange things.

Gone on a trip to a remote island. Got heatstroke, vomitting, and shat my insides out. Nearly got typhoid too.

And at the end of the whole thing, what did we get?

Joy. Happiness

Friendship.

For some reason, that's what people do. Even as we sat in the hostel, groaning on the beds, as the people outside suffered twice as much and hurt four times more, we still found the energy to laugh, crack jokes, and make remarks about each other's waste dispole units (both of them)

Singapore really is a bubble, isn't it? A little, tiny bubble, of order and peace and education.

And in closed bubbles, there's always stress. That someday the bubble will pop.

When that happens, will we still have the strength to laugh?

I hope we do.

I really hope.

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On the trip, a few things came to my mind. Chief of this was somewhat of admiration. I think I know what I want to be when I grow up.

If only I had the nerve to chase it. Or the legs to run.

Strange how hard it is to accept what you want, when you know you can have it?

The doctor asked me what I wanted to be. I didn't dare to tell him. Why was I embarassed?

Perhaps I was scared of being shot down?

Still...

At least I'm quite sure now. There's one thing I know I love.

Worlds and people. Ideas and things. Crafting, creating and always dreaming, always thinking, no matter what kinds of s*** life throws at you.

Idealist? Perhaps.

But that's what writing's all about.