Of Reflections And Pots Of Gold



It's a strange thing how we only pause for thought when some sort of trouble comes our way. Man somehow works like the ultimate troubleshooter, churning up huge amounts of delay, lag and frustration not too unlike the Mac-Afee sort whenever some threat pops up. Problems always seem so much easier to mull over, while you know what they say about fleeting joys and the like. As I continue to write, this post begins to degenerate, slight testament to how that good feeling comes and goes way too quickly to grab hold of, kind of like really great cheesecake. Maybe I should get down to the point of this post.

The night 23rd of November was not your typical night, considering how far from being dark and stormy it was. Quite on the contrary, it was a night with cloudless skies and a moon that looked like it got exported straight from some manga character's eyes: Really. Big. And not to mention pretty damn bright too. There it sat in its lofty abode in the eleven fifteen twilight sky, and basking in its almost 3D-esque grandeur it implored people worldwide to abandon their mortal ways and embark on a path of werewolfhood.

Or in simple terms, the moon damn nice today seh.

A sight this stunning was begging for a photo capture, but as I whipped out my trusty handphone, I could only languish in how the moon looked like a sorely mispositioned glob of blanko on the dark canvas of my phone screen. Oh well, it was worth a try. Nevertheless, it was enough for me to stand there for the whole part of five minutes, staring at the moon as it stared at our world; the staring match of the century, which the moon inevitably won, granted through underhand methods though; such as by burning a hole in the back of my retina. (I'm still getting the hang of this semicolon business. Damn you strange punctuation mark, damn you!)

Sadly, such scenes come as often as good bands to singapore, and go quicker than we run to the toilet at the call of nature. Reality strikes back, and the weight of the world falls off the canopy of the sky and onto your shoulders, and you can't help but hunch. The post began with the hopes of pudding in the bread and butter, but it appears that it only had false promises of pudding (facebook is bad for you that way), and a positive conclusion is hard enough to dig up. At any rate, we can always look forward to these punctuations of peace and possibly even joy, like the commas, colons, semicolons and periods that litter our sentences, and that hopefully perforate our world with.

viewed from here,
2'2"