10 November, 2013 § Leave a comment

Endured an unstimulating week in the workplace comprised of moments of banality that could make flowers wilt. After all, only that much exertion and adventure is involved when one puts lead to paper to mark for the 26th time “(which consent shall not be unreasonably withheld or delayed)”.

My mind does not handle being repressed well. The response is an upsurge of a violent desire to be reckless and abandon the world, and the duties and regularities that are a corollary to modern life and consumption. It calls out to the imagination to be saved from a state of mere existence. It craves for something new to reestablish that connection with the universe.

There is little I can do about this situation when I am still struggling to figure out how to use my compass without a destination. So I take walks through the city and take bus rides to savour the journey. To make myself feel like I am heading somewhere with a hidden purpose.

After all, we must all seek out something in a lifetime. That which will draw us to, and draw from us, the fire that illuminates this human condition.

My favourite walk is predictable: Alighting at a back alley on the fringe of the heart of the business district after sunset, past a sleeping Chinese temple, cross the road through a lobby with a frightful Dali sculpture of a man mangled by time, a moment to say hi to the Botero bird in bronze that seems pleased with himself in every moment, and to stand quietly to take in the sight of the handsome Fullerton Hotel with the romance of the majestic rain trees and the Anderson steel suspension bridge across which bullock carts once traversed. Then through the tunnel towards the waterfront and my favourite concert hall.

This time, before the end of the tunnel, I am caught in a moment of serendipity. A moment that obliterated all the noise and grime that had found its way into my heart during the week.


Tagged: , ,

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

What’s this?

You are currently reading serendipity at sputnik scribbles.


%d bloggers like this: