composure

Wed 11pm

The blank page, the blinking cursor, two elements of an empty page. I’m typing debilitated, with few ideas percolating in the gray matter. Writing on tenterhooks, about the rubbish of the minds. At this point I’ll sign off and have a nap.

Thu 10am

After back to back viewings of Without a Trace, I got in tune to the laid back atmosphere of the wisecracking comedies. Then I still have to trim the untouched wilderness of the outer façade. The endless and mind-boggling chirping with my friend yesterday enlightened my eyes to the psychology of desire for possessions. Not having the luxurious niceties in life could sometimes brought forth relationship chaos and complications. At least it was while growing up with only one television in our four-kid household. A Louis Vuitton handbag could lead to a Chanel leather coup any day, designer bags and shoes to satisfy the cravings of the soul. Not too shabby but kind of pricey. Others like to stroke their egos through their kids. But my favourite is the traveller. The colleague who delivers a cascade of chuckles and circumnavigates the world. While I just want to develop a keen eye for creativity. Good luck to that.