Sunday, September 25, 2005
` Sunday, September 25, 2005
What is it about the patter of raindrops against a window pane that brings about a wave of melancholy to a person? Here I am, sitting at a desk with my laptop, in a beautifully refurbished hotel room, tucked beside a cavernous bed filled with plush pillows and a thick duvet, lapping up my dinner of fried rice and a can of Coke and typing yet another frivolous entry. In anticipating the somewhat tiresome routine of another work week in a foreign land that seems both inviting and well, a little unfamiliar, I'm suddenly overwhelmed with a sense of involuntary solitude and vulnerability.
Somehow, the need for change is a strong desire in itself, necessary to embrace a potential transformation of one's psychological well-being. Yet, familiarity beckons in a manner that makes one feel reluctant to part ways. At the moment, being at the crossroads and evaluating the path of life seems like a really arduous task.