Quiet setting, hot tea latte in hand (okay on the table), very cold air conditioning, dark skies outside. Perfect for an afternoon's read. So I went on to complete the 1st of the 3 separate stories in the new book that I have gotten a couple of days back. In the midst of it all, the story triggered something in me. Something which got me thinking, in the negative sense that is. It sucks.

Imagine life 20 years down the road. Where will you be? What will you be doing? How much of your life will you remember? Actually my point is, how much 'souvenirs' would you have amassed from your life? I mean the real stuffs like perhaps your scribble pad, memorable work pieces, things which had a lasting impact on you then. Will it still have the effect on you? Some things which you held dear to you, will it still worth its weight in gold to you? I mean, if ever you have things to look back on in the first place.

Looking back at myself, so far, everything seems like a broken dream to me? Some things are surreal, while others are probably there, mostly I don't even remember. Perhaps it is simply not in me. Well. No idea what this is all about. Am lazy to organise my thoughts now. Just need to get whatever I am thinking now, down.


If... if... if...