Off on many tangents

The power of words. The beauty of writing. It always amazes me how therapeutic expressing oneself in a prose is.

My mind is scattered. I can't focus on typing about any one thing. Thoughts just keep popping up and lifting me off in a tangent with them. So here's a collection of my random pop-ups...

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The life of the wondering nomad continues. I said to mum the other day, " I'll stop moving by the time I'm 30." Perhaps. I do moan about the stresses of not really being rooted anywhere, but at the same time, it's almost addictive. Is it the buzz of uncertainty that is addictive?

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Then there's the flood of "what ifs". I maintain that in life, the worst feeling is that of regret. In order to prevent going down that road, I tend to over-analyse everything. Perhaps I can blame it on being a libran- needing to weigh up every factor and eventuality before making a decision. Maybe it's nurture- the pragmatic, objective way of approaching and dealing with everything, even if it's at the expense of numbing any emotions that seep through my defences. Perhaps it's just down to simple fear- the fear of being wrong.

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My heritage. My Singaporeaness or lack of. A couple of Singaporean friends that I've made since moving to London said to me that I'm really more "angmohfied" than I am Singaporean. Is it my outlook? My mannerisms? Language? Attitude? What constitutes being Singaporean? Am I going to end up being a confused character who doesn't really "fit in" in Singaporean society? How will I cope when I return to the country of my birth? Will I feel like a foreigner on my own soil?

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On God. God and I have spent a patchy summer together. I know He is there, I know what He says is good, I know where the lines have to be drawn. Yet, the rebellious side of me has again re-surfaced. I do the things I know I'm not meant to do, then feel guilty about it all, then think that if I avoid communicating with God, I won't have to think about it. Then I go to church, feel remourseful and resolve to try harder next time. Then the cycle repeats itself, but this time, I've learnt to cope with the guilt better and justify my actions. It's a slippery slope down. But how can you turn away from the hand that has guided your every step? Is anything or anyone even worth turning your back from God for? I've decided that if I can't face it head on, I'll just have to make do with running from it for now. Yes, the ostrich style I know, but instead of just burying my head in the sand, I'll have to do some sprinting as well.

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