After a Really Long Time...

Blogging is like swimming. If you stop doing it for a really long time, a time in which you have changed, matured, evolved, transmuted, and then you start again, despite your misgivings about how you're going to be able to write like you did because you're afraid of what you might say or you don't really want to see what you're actually thinking about in front of you in black and white, now that you're a different person, the words come naturally, very naturally in fact.

But I'm still at a loss - what should the sequence be like? Should I start with the most apparent - my upcoming exams - or should I start with something else - the fact that I'm sad that there is an end to every single thing in life? Or should I just talk about everything and nothing? That would be an interesting topic to talk about with someone.

I guess I'm just being really random because...well because of certain things that I don't really want to talk about...not because they're not something I would want to talk about under any circumstance, but because I don't know what they are. Existence is certainly disquieting at times.

But if I had to put my finger on it, I guess what's causing me to talk this way is my fear. Not pure, primal, unadulterated fear. But anticipatory fear; fear of the unknown as we so adequately put it. What's to come? It was all very nice to merely talk about it with people, research about it on the internet, learn about it through various secondary resources, filling out forms and condensing my entire life history to a few blanks on several sheets of paper, writing essay after essay, draft after draft. I thought that was exciting, exhilarating, life-changing. But now I Don't Know what is going to happen to me. I Don't. I am not in total control of my future right now and that is scaring the BEJEEZES out of me. [Where does that word come from anyway? I mean, which country? And what the hell does it mean?].

I want to know what is going to happen at this moment. What will happen. Will I make the right choices? Am I going to make the singularly most devastating choice in my entire life by doing what I will ultimately end up doing?

I only know this: I am going to be in a completely different place 4 or 5 months from now (depends on where I go). And I am going to have to adjust, go with the flow - all of that. Whether I like it or not. Whether I'm scared or unsure or unprepared for an independent life in a place I have never lived in (unless I end up going to NUS).

I am such a coward. It's really difficult to hold your own especially if you don't know where you're going to have to do precisely that. Shakespeare is so right: The waiting interim is definitely worse than the outcome or resolution.