The Question

It's December. Already. Year 2011 is coming to an end. Inevitably the Question arises: What have I accomplished this year?

To be honest, nothing much.

Have I become a better person? Maybe that's for the others to judge. But what do I care about what others think of me anyway?

What have I contributed to this world? Uh, carbon dioxide? My mere existence in this world brings it its end.

How are the new year resolutions? Huh, new year resolution what?

Well, anymore questions are just gonna get even more negative answers I guess. Really, I can't believe another year is gone. Felt like I drifted through my life along the current, without anything significant to mark the year. And what really is it that makes a life, a life? Things that, at the end of our lives, make us think that, I've led a good life, and this particular period of my life was the best ever? The fun? The self actualization? The love? The laughter? The people we've met? The dream? The accomplishments? The material possessions?

Go get a life and stop lamenting over here you silly!

But, but, what is A Life? Argh, when can I realize what matters most to me? Something that can arouse my passion, something that is my sole purpose of being alive. Anything to change what is of me now, an apathetic walking piece of machine.

Get your butt up and start searching, moron!

I know, all right! It's in the middle of the night right now! I'm not getting my butt anywhere.

Well, go to sleep! Don't complain that you're tired the next day! And really, how long has it been since the last time you exercised, lazy bug?

I was busy, okay?! And stop being mean! Who are you anyway?

Just a voice in your mind, psycho. 

Eh, yea, I have no idea why this post turns out the way it is. Must be the devil talking. But really, I can't define my year!!

Does it matter?

Yes it does!

Oh come on!

No you shut up!

Fine.

Life Ain't Bad

Drifted off to sleep yesterday reading John Grogan's Life Is Like A Sailboat and listening to Justin Bieber's Pray.

I was reading this part about kindness, true stories shared by readers of his column. Mom who donated her brain-dead son's organs; stranger who offered shoes to someone with broken sandals; taxi driver who returned accidentally tipped $70; someone in the queue who offered a desperate mom her number; local who drove lost tourists back to their hotel, and a whole lot more. I particularly like this one line from a person who refused a reward for returning an important briefcase: 'I'm just going to sleep better, knowing I did what I should have done.'. Now if everyone thinks the same way as he does, utopia might not be that unreachable. Why not lend a hand to those in need, given the chance? You might just make his or her day. And to my favourite author, John Grogan, thanks for reminding me that there is still the bright side of humanity when my compassion for fellow humans is gravely stricken by the headlines made up of crimes.

I was also checking out Nigahiga's videos last night. Then I thought of Justin Bieber all of a sudden, so I checked out his channel as well and saw this MV, Pray. Love it. It reminds me that the world is as big as it is, fortunes as unfair, and there is always something larger, something that shouts for attention from people who are too caught up in their own lives like me. While I'm fretting over the occasional little troubles, I fail to notice that there are some other people living on this same planet who face even greater challenges which I doubt myself can handle. By comparison, they make my problem a laugh. (Not that I can really laugh off it) There are always things that we can do to help. Skip that ice-cream, walk that short way, put back that dress, save the money, and donate it.

These two are the things that have touched my heart. Hope that you can check them out, and let them touch yours too.

One of Those

Steamboat dinner with family. Felt like it's the eve of Chinese New Year, except that Cheng wasn't here. Dinners nowadays are even rowdier with the addition of a little devil, but in a good way. Ah, the bliss of life.

Checked my mailbox just now. I subscribe to newsletters from Time.com, and one of today's top stories was 'Nine Years After 9/11, is Al-Qaeda's Threat overrated?' Wasn't particularly interested in the article, but it struck me that nine years had gone by since the disaster. I still remember a year after the disaster, my reaction had been almost the same: 'It's been a year already?' Things seem to be just yesterday. And by the 11th of September next year, it would have been a decade. How many decades do I have to live? Time flies, and while living my monotonous everyday life, it never occurred to me so, thus time spent unwisely. It's only moments like this that it dawn on me that life is short. I was so focused on getting the daily chores done, the to do's and all the other distractions, that days and weeks and years have gone by, as if in a blink of an eye. In the end, are these all that I have to define my life? Do I need one? Definition, or the meaning of life? I do not seek to be remembered long after I'm gone, but to be in peace and content, when I shall take my last breath. Or, to be able to proudly share what I've achieved when I can no longer run the way I do now, when wisdom grows and wrinkles creep.

Finished reading The Choice by Nicholas Sparks. A truly touching story. If there's a guy like Travis Parker, I wouldn't think twice of marriage. (I'm just saying) And just to share something that I find interesting, Kinokuniya categorizes Nicholas Sparks' books under general fiction. There were a few reasons why I bought the book. 1. It was on sale (BookXcess). 2. It's hard cover. 3. The cover is nice. 4. It's Nicholas Sparks. 5. I'd got money in my wallet. 6. The synopsis didn't seem like the typical Nicholas-Sparks-sad-ending. 7. The bookaholic-me on the loose. Wow, I didn't realise that there were actually that many reasons, but I'm glad. Never really thought that I would fall for his books one day. They have been around for like forever, but the sad endings never appealed to me, and still don't. But I guess I can handle it. The Choice, though, is a happy ending story.

'Even if I spend the rest of my life visiting her in the nursing home, it's still a better life than one I could spend with anyone else. I love her too much to let her go.' -- Travis Parker

It's Elvis Presley today.

Currently Reading: The Longest Trip Home by John Grogan