some things are not meant to be

read richard carlson's book An Hour to Live, an Hour to Love. read about the deep love that runs between him and his wife and is really inspired. love-at-first-sight and the love that slowly nurtured between them through the years. sweet, slightly cheesy but most definitely very romantic. will my life have a happy ending too? i have a fragile heart and cannot take too many twists and turns.

he advocates letting go of all the small things. if we had only an hour left to live, we wouldnt be calling our insurance agents or financial advisers or lawyers or the like. we cannot be so caught up in the world that we neglect those closest to us. i like how he and his wife can just sit by their favourite bench and just enjoy the sunset. tranquil. a scene out of a postcard. different men have different ways of expressing their love. i just love his expression in the form of words.

i feel really lost. western societies follow the 'self-above-society' model. whereas eastern societies conform to the 'society-above-self' model. richard carlson can just let go of everything because he sees in the grand scheme of things. we should aim to be happy. but in the pursuit of happiness, we might compromise that of other people. i could just drop everything now and go and pursue what i love most, but in doing so i would inevitably be letting my parents down (as seen in the eyes of the asian society). sometimes i ask myself what am i going to university for? there are countless examples of people who have became successful in life and they mostly did not pursue higher education. so am i studying to become just another educated fool?

no doubt the stuff i learn in real estate is critical to my life. i learn about how to source out the best housing loans (useful if i want to buy a house in future) and learn about how to use leverage to purchase several properties to make myself a rich man. but am i really happy? when i let my mind wander during lectures (which is not hard considering how worthless some lectures are), i realise that subconciously i find myself outdoors. i imagine myself scaling some cliff in some picturesque climbing crag with just me and a partner. and then my palms sweat. perhaps these are signs to me. my mother did tell me to go off to whichever country i fancy to train under a coach. but somehow i cannot let go of everything like that. i joined the rat race of education in Singapore and cannot seem to tear myself away from running along its well-trodden tracks. i see other youths leading the life i've always coveted but too timid to attempt and cant help but feel envious. i want to float away on the gossamer wings of my imagination, but i cannot help the nagging strands of rationality tugging at me.

i find myself up to my neck with work recently and cannot find time to do the things i love to do most, that is climbing hardcore, reading and immersing myself in the world of knowledge, and learning to play the piano, and sitting in a quiet place and just watching the clouds drift by.

busy busy busy. but am i really happy? having said all these, the biggest irony is that tomorrow i'll find myself repeating the cycle all over again.


her clothes were unadorned, yet her beauty was undimished.