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It’s been a hell of a week, maybe a month, maybe a few months, and I’m still picking myself apart and asking questions as usual, but none that I’ve regret coming to of course.

For nothing would I trade those experiences ever, but ever since a month ago, I secretly wondered if I should think for what’s best in my self interest, and that is to not play second fiddle, to stop searching for sunken treasure, to just stop hurting myself basically.

Hurt myself? Woah, that’s gotta be something right? Indeed man, indeed.

Getting kicked out of a quarterfinal in a primary school soccer tournament and cried at that? That was pre-puberty disappointment, like a mountain falling on top of you.

Would you have cried if you had pinned extremely high hopes and expected so much and dreamed so much only to falter along the way?

And then there was Gunung Ledang when I was 15, which was basically torture and plenty of mozzie attacks to accompany te aching limbs. That’s peanuts.

NS’ stress tests, such as the canoeing around Singapore, even when I’m sea-sick as hell, and all those mind games? Well that turned out to be a fond memory.

Sure those times I was breaking the limit but this, this now, this relationship, this whatever this is, it’s brought me to depths I’ve never seen before and aches I’ve never felt before.

Questions whose answers are never really about right or wrong and it’s these questions that you chew on slowly, only to find them getting stickier and stickier the longer the gum gets pummeled.

Well I try to base my decisions without being judgemental on any preconditions and I’d like to get things done so that the next move can be made. It’s like a game of Chess, once you’ve made your move, someone else have to make their move or the game stagnates.

But gum, like chess, are minor issues, if ever they were problems.

This stagnation, this stickiness, this thingy, it’s not quite a problem, and not quite a solution either.

I love helping people, the more that they need my help, the more that I go out of my way to render it.

But do you continue with the aid when you’ll get hurt along the way, like how the Internation Aid Mission guys whom were slain recently while relaying eye care duties in Afghan?

Their virtuous deeds just got legendary status, thanks to a few extreme men with extreme ‘incepted’ thoughts, but I’m no politician so I’ll politically say that it was a great sadness to see the medical team’s journey ended this way.

Wait, they knew the risks yet they ploughed on selflessly.

What should I do?

I wish I could just lay out everything, and stand inside a wall of glass, before shattering them all to pieces — but I don’t want the shards to cut anyone, me least of all, even though I do know that sooner or later, pieces of glass will graze you, no matter how hard you try to evade them.

Now, if only I can see where that wall of glass is, maybe my exhaustion blurs my vision.

Sure, work and side projects have at the very least shown me where I need to go to keep on moving, but I can’t help but feel that slight tinge of helplessness.

Maybe I’m lost?