Past My Prime

Since young, I've read somewhere that once you are beyond 21 years of age, your wristbones are totally formed. I also read in the same article that people generally stop growing at that age, and beyond that, their physical attributes start to decline. I've finally reached that stage. Physically on the downhill roll (my last 2.4km run clocked a pathetic 12 mins), mentally jaded and emotionally drained. At 22. Perfect.

Having spent so many birthdays with her, and not having the priviledge to do so again this year, I've been feeling a little lost as to how I'd spend my birthday. It'd always seemed so right spending, sharing this special day of mine with her that, now that she's gone, seems so empty somehow.

My family never made a big hooha about birthdays. The home celebration, a cake at the end of the day, a dinner perhaps. That was it. No fancy parties like some of my friends. Even my 21st birthday consisted of 2 tables at the Grand Copthorne Hotel.

Naah...I'm not hankering after a party...God knows I'll melt under all that attention. And I've always had this warm feeling having my family wait for me to get home, just to sing me a birthday song and watch me cut the cake. A feeling I won't be likely to get again in its entirety since my family has been sundered.

Ok, right...it isn't healthy to be so melancholic on my birthday. I'll try to cheer myself up...let's see. Oh yeah...during the IBM break when the chio bu David and his friend were discussing suddenly turned to me and gave me a sweet smile. Whoa...that's certainly something to perk things up huh? Too bad I'm not in the shape to take any action. Haha...maybe I'll just go on wishing she smiles at me until one day I find it within me to get to know her? Ga~ah....

I visited Jolene at the hospital earlier yesterday. She looked so pale when we arrived, but we managed to cheer her up and before long, a hint of colour started showing on her face. Heh...at least I brought a smile to someone's face today...especially knowing how utterly sian it is to have to be confined to the bed in the hospital, having been there before. The poor girl. I do hope she gets well soon....dunno if it'd be appropriate to visit her again later; she seemed so sian. But even with her pallor, she still looked absolutely radiant to me. Every gesture, even the grimace she gave when she drank the bitter gourd soup. The nice guy in me wishes I could've done more to alleviate her suffering...but I ain't a doctor...and there's just so much I can do as a friend.

I never knew dengue fever could be that bad...honestly. Huimin wanted to catch the mosquito to take revenge. Let's all wish her happy hunting.

Anyhow, for my birthday, I'd like to recommend a post titled First Man by the Schizophrenic Froggie. Absolutely brilliant! And I thought I was good at allegories and imagery. I'd try this sometime, but I'd only be copying his genius.

Riding hard, fast, safely AND taking a few corners.