"BYEbye! BYEbye!"

a t a l l .

When I was younger, I possessed an inane fear of being left behind -
be it accidental negligence, sadistic humour or intended cruelty.

You may laugh now, but it was a big thing to me, then.

During grocery shopping trips, usually to Sheng Siong,
I'm put charge of the bags of goodies in a corner.
I distinctly recall waiting outside the medical hall just next door,
literally being seized by dread and allowing panic to propel my imagination.
My worst nightmare being left to wait there forever,
ladened with bulging bags of goodies,
tears brimming in my widened eyes.
Likened to a giraffe, I'd crane my neck to witness their return,
just so that my mind could be spared another second's agony.

God is quick to prove my paranoia wrong.

As I progressed to greater heights in mental visualization
(but not in intellectual maturity),
I formulated almost-credible situations in which I could be left behind.
Plans were devised in case my fears materialized,
and fresh fears arose to conquer my newfound relief.
Since I grew taller and stronger over time,
I concluded I would slowly walk back home with all the goods,
at the very worst.

Then the moment of reckoning (as yet).

The very worst scenario I could ever envision,
that my family will be entirely wiped away from the memories of this world.
That I would be rendered kinless and left to fend for myself.
That I would try to go home yet I could never reach it.
That everyone else was in a huge conspiracy together.

I had absolutely no solution to this self-inflicted trauma.

At such a supposedly-innocent age,
one could hardly regard this as normal.
How can anyone of age ten possibly not be traumatized by such?
I used to have repetitive nightmares like these,
and I would cry at night because I disliked these notions.

Then came the refusals to go grocery shopping,
due to certain extent of extreme paranoia.

God is quick, as always, to prove my paranoia wrong.

So, please don't make kids cry with threats to leave them behind.
It's extremely upsetting.

Enough of my childish fears.

In any case,
I can't believe there're only two weeks of holidays left.
After this week, that is.
It's going to be December, and Christmas will be gone in a flash.

I HAVEN'T GOTTEN [read: stolen] WHAT I WANT.

Boo.
I forgot to credit Johnnylia for offering a tantalising tale of her rejection for one.

Lovely.

Okay, I'm too short to jump and reach for one.
Come, Johnnylia-maknenek.
We'll go at... ... say, 3am?

p/s. bring your bamboo poles along.







I cut my finger while sealing envelopes and sending them down to the post office.
Now, how smart is that?

Pretty smart, I reckon.

Now I can't play while worshipping without wincing because it's my left hand.
It's stinging pain,
almost insanely throbbing.
I appreciate the blood shed,
the oozing red brought a l'il colour surprise to my dull week.

Experiencing the swell of pain hints.
Seeing the brightness of red affirms.

I am alive.
I am human.
I'm feelin' it, all right ;)

OH, and as an afterthought,
I still think everyone else is collaborating in a huge conspiracy.

Just jesting.