A bump in the night.
Little can go according to plan, and in a way not every thing can. There is always a shamble or two to stumble past, for we are always in many ways miscast.
1) And so I wonder if I will be able to commit to two dates down south within a week. While I may be excited at the thought of seeing a certain ursine mammal of the grizzly kind playing tunes more suited to my ears, I am somehow unable to shake off the feeling that we could potentially be seeing the presence of an even bigger band gracing near our shores… provided the country’s political activities had yet to throw the spanner in the works, that is. (The past elections saw me madly rushing off to catch a bus to Singapore after a lightning quick trip to the voting booth that same morning, and it is not something that I would want to experience a second time.)
2) To most people, two entries in a week could materialise easily with a mere flick of a finger, or futilely after long hours of staring at an empty screen. Unfortunately, I have fallen into the latter category, and rather disgracefully at that, too. So this year’s count is certainly going to be more dreadful than the last.
3) It can be rather disheartening to know that sometimes your greatest enemy is yourself. An overactive immune system that turns against you at the last possible moment; cancer cells that have been quietly breeding within you for years; an extreme aversion to lengthy words that make you want to throw a medical dictionary into the sky. But more often than not, it is the very fear of fear itself that needs conquering more than anything else.
Only time will tell how this will all pan out. But I hope I can one day look back at what I have written here, laugh, and know that it never happened.