'The Trail Isn't Drab Anymore...'

I can only wait. I've not been wearing my (accidentally) polyurethane-resin-coated watch for the past two weeks as to not shift my attention to the sense-of-time, rather - I'd be working with the trivial and lame gleefully (I wonder if I'm subcounsciously enjoying the great activity of picking out the staples when appending newer documents to existing ones and re-stapling them together; no one has pointed out this absurd act to me - if they did: I'd just be justifying it by nonchalantly informing them that the files have grown too fat and heavy - I'm just doing my civic part to lessen it), wasting away what remains of my work time till Friday evening.

Yesterday I was prompted by my colleague to get a ticket early, as it would be a very busy day, this weekend: the eve of the double festive celebration, Deepavali and Hari Raya (which everyone in Malaysia eagerly pines for annually). I'm thankful that my mind was forming all sorts of tragic drama, right after our conversation (one of them): I'd be at the ticket stand on Saturday morning and it would be closed, displaying a board mocking my procrasination, 'Tiket habis dijual sehingga minggu depan' or something to that extent, and right after, I'd be getting down on my knees: all broken and utterly dissapointed. And so (with that and many other neurotic episodes in mind), I punched out sharp at six pm, got over to the Butterworth stands by ferry and bought myself (a later than expected departure time, but still:) a ticket to Kuala Lumpur on Saturday.

It's a bit taxing (truth). But I tell myself that it's all worth it (also truth). Simply because I have never met (or found) anyone who even bears a speck of the spark in which she carries. Simply put: she's captured me (even without forming intent :P), and I'm content in this. I am.

I can only wait.

(" , )