Idle Mind

Lately, I have not been applying myself to anything. Many times in the past few months, I have felt strongly about various issues, but never committed myself to writing about it. There are a few reasons for this. Sometimes, after the moment passes, I convince myself that my thoughts about a matter aren't worth writing about. At times, I worry I might offend someone with what I write. I am aware that I am still naive about much of the world, and fear my childish take on things will invite wrath upon me; even now, I sometimes feel like deleting old posts. Then there is, of course, laziness, pure and simple.

I feel calmer now compared to a few years back, and have felt like I'm calming down gradually for a while. I do know I have been irritable and grating to be around, and have said many irresponsible things and done many irresponsible things. I can never take back what I have said or what I've done, I know. I can only say sorry (but as they say, 'sorry no cure'). The best I can do is ask that if I ever say something downright insulting/irresponsible/etc. in the future, slap me and let me know (if violence appeases you).

Of course, I hope people understand that I don't mean to say Slap Me literally.

Flower

This game is an experience.

Sights

A Day Walking

   Today, I saw a woman quarreling with a man at a hawker centre. The man was at a table with another man. The woman threatened to hit the man with a beer bottle she had seized from the table. I was eating my lunch, and I felt really horrible. People around were just looking. I hoped they didn't fight. I left without watching the confrontation play out.

   Today, at a playground, I saw an elderly man sitting on a bench playing with his grandson. The child looked around 1 years old. The man was wearing a simple sleeveless shirt and shorts, with both legs across the bench, with his grandson on his knees. He was singing a folk song to his grandson, while the grandson was looking around. It was peaceful. It was a hot afternoon a few birds were chirping around, and in the shade, there were only a few people passing by.

   Today, I saw a cat stalking a butterfly. The cat was orange, and reminded me of a cat I knew once. It had a blue collar; its owners must love it a lot because it looked clean and well fed. I watched as it stalked the orange butterfly across a grass field, with its shoulders hunched, its body close to the ground. The butterfly settled on a blade of grass. The cat stopped, retreated a little, and crouched. The butterfly slowly moved its wings, closing them and opening them, as if to test whether they were still working. The cat reared up; its hind legs aligned. It was preparing. The butterfly was still.

   The cat pounced. The butterfly flew away.

   The cat spared it a wistful glance, then lay down lazily on a nearby pavement.

   And then, I wondered - what am I doing in my life?