Hi my dear friends, I am back. Back from my hiatus of poring over texts, of labouring over financial issues, of pondering over matters that are way beyond my control. Back from my paradise, back into the cruel and cold world.
For this past nine days that I have been gone from this sunny little island, I have never regret a single moment of it. To describe it day by day, minute by minute of what I have done would simply be doing an injustice to the overall beauty of the land, the beauty of the experience, and the beauty of the company that I have been in. Even if they were to do justice to it, I fear it would be too monotonous for you, making this tomes of mine into another “every day every minute” kind of blog. Those kind of tomes that I cannot stand, those kind that tries to act what they are not.
This journey, as I have mentioned, was an apprehensive one to begin with. One that begins with unfamiliar companions, three and a half strangers. Where did the half come from? Only God knows…But I can tell you that indeed, there are three and a half strangers. Perhaps using strangers may be too strong a word. Let’s just change them to friends. Casual acquaintances. Nothing more. Three and a half of them.
For me, it began with no end in mind, no purpose at all. I couldn’t even see the end of this small road that I was taking. Like any other night in London, it was all foggy. The fatal marshes lie at the outskirts of the tiny lane, and any misstep would probably result in a slow, if not muddy death. For them? Plenty of purposes, plenty of ends. They all set out to have fun, to shop, no holds barred. At least for some of them.
During the nine days, many things happened. Happy things and sad things. More often than not, it was the happy things. I dare to say that every fellow on the journey had fun and thoroughly enjoyed himself or herself. I don’t think one would have such fun if one goes with their kin.
As the days progressed, the road gradually became clearer. The sun came out and sent the fog to hell. There were quite a few bumps that almost caused me to veer off course, but it was easily settled in the dead of the night with the other half of my self. No words can do justice to how I feel. Ah, pardon me! I’m weighing you down with all my troubles! How callous of me.
Glad to make three new friends.
Glad that the fog has lifted.
Glad for everything that has happened to me.
I am blessed.
Cursed, if all these were to be taken away from me. Again. If the fog settles back.
But fret not. Without struggles, life would be meaningless. Just like the newly morphed butterfly wouldn’t have hard enough wings to fly if he doesn’t struggle against opening the cocoon.
What a cliche.
Technorati Tags: peace, friends, musings