Where Can I Go

What did I do, what did I not
The scenery that envelopes me is beautiful
But some things do not turn out as I hoped and thought
from relying on surface impressions given by a surprising few

What I should let go, what I cannot
Even in the face of the obvious renewed
You can put your hand and heart to share the lot
It still does not mean there are no more stitches to sew

Where can I go, where I do not want to
When faced with passing ships, day or night
I am torn between wanting to come and go
But I know it's best to detach, to be able to see the light

Where can I float,where can I cling to hope
I look into my inner self, I look into my true friends
It then dawns on me these have always given me a rope
To scramble upon, to realise dreams and to say I can

Numbers

Numbers were conceptualised to help mankind grasp more effectively with time, distance and the relationships inherent in Nature. This year we have 777 to fascinate us - and for business, philosophers, numerologists and the media to speculate and rave about. The series of sevens refer to the 7th of July, when my dear friend Eu Hock from school days reaches a landmark birthday as well. The new Modern Seven Wonders of the World are, as this is posted, due to be announced.

Next year the magical number eight grabs its hold on East Asian populations, with their obsession with that specific digit, that rhymes with the pronunciation for the word for prosperity. The Beijing Summer Olympics shall be launched at 8pm eastern China time on the eighth night of August of 2008. The most recent time when 8 figured fascinatingly in the calender was in 1988, which coincided with the Oriental Year of the Dragon, and when the last Olympics were also held in Asia.

Next year proves to be a bountiful year for eight combinations, whatever you make of it. Hold parties or have vehicle rego plates with 118, 228, 338, 668, 888, 998, 11118 and 128.

Along The Way

Grapefruit,they must be that, all of them fat, with rounded plum bottoms and the unmistakable green colour that should then yellow, if left uneaten for too long.
We had momentarily disembarked at a convenience stop along the highway, and other coaches also disgorged their passengers to use toilets and visit fruit stalls. The majority of the vendors were brown-skinned, but the sellers of the supposedly grapefruit outlet were fairer, and elderly, older than the others.

Passing rain showers broke the monotony of the ride from a capital city to this tropical island enclave that we were heading to. The experience was not unpleasant, starting right after lunch hour and we expected to have a seafood dinner under palm trees with our toes massaging into warm sand. It was humid outside, but not in the cocooned comfort of air-conditioning inside.

The only irritating thing was a loud woman mouthing a variety of languages on to her hand phone, English included. From what was forced for the others to hear, we reckoned that she was moving to either Melbourne or Perth later in the year, although right now this was no where near those cities. Her voice competed with the audio from a movie playing on a screen near the coach driver.

Palm trees gave way to rubber plantations. The flat alluvial plains on both sides soon changed to a climb up through a mountainous area, thick with equatorial forests. Is it true that life happens while we are waiting for someone or something better? Is life going on when travelling on a coach in a foreign land? Is time better spent eating and dancing with family and friends, or being submerged in some personally obsessive cultural pursuit? Another afternoon passes, and soon we saw the setting sun behind the hills of the isle we were travelling to.