Lost

I used to think it would be fun to get lost somewhere. No, you don’t understand. When I say, get lost somewhere, it means, somewhere.

Somewhere is this idea of a place that’s known. A place that’s watched. It’s ground that’s understood and covered although not by me. It’s different from nowhere. I would never want to get lost nowhere.

With somewhere, someone’s got a view from the top. And when I’m stuck in the mess of it and can’t seem to see, someone sees the bigger picture, in which I am a blinking dot. Blinking cause I’m still alive.

How much more vague can I get?

I tried lah. I tried very hard to write on this topic. That’s what I could come up with for now.

I hate all these half-finished pieces. But the more I think about it, the more I realise that my pieces are never complete and they can’t ever be because you always build and rebuild on what you know. You write and rewrite. You learn and relearn.

C’est la vie, isn’t it?