Rantglass - because that's how things are.


It's gotta be you.

It’s gotta be you.

Hear me roar, too!

That would be Liv; Twig’s companion in the garden.

My left eyelid has been twitching wildly for the past few days. It happens when I am on the road joining the rush hour traffic back home; when I have a serious yet semi-formal discussion with the boss; and even when I indulge myself in a plate of fattening nasi lemak.

Times like these, Google comes in handy. Apparently, twitching eyelid(s) indicate stress (as if I have not been feeling strained enough), lack of sleep, and more than enough dosage of caffeine.

Earlier, I thought someone must have been kept really busy for four days, talking – oh, possibly negative things about me – behind my back. According to another source, however – a twitching left eyelid would bring about good fortune.

Sounds considerably better than a twitching right eyelid, though – which meant that misfortune would befall you.

So there I was, wondering if I should bug someone to help me buy a lottery ticket. I am not that superstitious; still, there is the thrill of expecting something really good to fall out of space and land perfectly right in front of you, like a long-lost piece to an all-important jigsaw puzzle. Something that would then make your life complete. Like, a bagful of cool million bucks. A van that could accomodate all members of the family. Magic immortality potions. Tickets to faraway and distant lands. To catch the eye of the girl that lives not too far down the street. A privilege to play in a musical orchestra. To have nothing but peace and joy, love and happiness. Come to think of it – perhaps a fine young man (or woman) on your doorstep does not sound that bad, too.

Then you would have to wake up from the dream, smack yourself, and wonder how the heck does a twitching left eyelid could possibly determine your future, make you richer, or have you fall in love. Just. Like. That. Without fairy dust or a magic wand, whatsoever.

I do not know of anyone who has deliberately walked under a ladder, or smash a mirror into a thousand pieces just to see how things would eventually turn out, though.

How do I control unconscious stress, anyway? It sounds like an almost futile attempt.

Details of this entry.Saturday, May 08, 2004, filed under Blogger Archives.
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