Hey guys, it's me again! Sometimes, I feel like we've grown up real fast. It's as if we've been so caught up with living, there's all those space in between I missed and I go "Wat happened there?" do we always miss the process? Like flowers blooming, we are just not aware of it, until the bud opens then we realize that all along, the process has been happenign slowly, ever so slowly. I still can't quite say what's in that blank space in between. It is really like waking up from dream, only thing is I'm pretty sure I'm still slumbering in some way or another.

I still feel insecure stepping out, there's so much I want to learn and try, but there's also so much holding me back. Sometimes I wish I could live recklessly, but I do care about consequences. Hey, maybe it is quarter-life crisis as Li so much like to say. Or maybe it is just the same constant process I will be living with my whole life. My mum is still on the journey of self-discovery. Trying to uncover and find out about myself, who I am. What i stand for in all this madness. I wonder what peole who truly discover themselves, who finally sees their meaning, what do they feel? Sitting under a Bodhi tree or nailed upon a cross, or with a bullet in our stomach after painting out a lifetime of passion. It is sometimes such a struggle. Of course living out your calling takes immense courage and conviction. But for most of us, we are barely aware of our calling floating in and out of life day to day. Yes, Life is unbearably light. But being is not.

I see lots of young mums, a new life that is tossed upon some of them, unprepared. Some of them are excited, some are depressed, some have loving supportive husbands, some have bossy husbands, some do not make appearances. I don't quite know what I feel most of the time. I feel like I am an intrusion into lives of others at their most intimate moments. A stranger of sorts, a viewer, a passive non-participant whom they will in all likelihood forget. But on this side, the impact is greater.

I feel more certain than ever now that creation is the life source of all life. And if you ask people who create, it is an impulse. And no life is worth truly living if it is not fuelled by a deep passion for something in life--whatever that may be. I think the only worthwhile life, is the life lived out with passion. And it is not only the artists, songwriters, directors or dancers who have the priviledge to passion and creation. We all create our own world--with passion or without. WE redraw things, we look at things anew always. I don't think I will ever stop being a child in some secret part of me. Do you rguys remember the poem 'The Shroud"? About the old school uniform?

I fially realize that I don;t agree with it. It is not a shroud, it is a a deep seated seed fallen into a crack i our lives, stil alive in a secret garden we can visit if we ever need to. Not folded and dead in a drawer. BUt living in past dreams and fantasies.

I still slumber.