It has been quite some time since I had last put to pen my thoughts and feelings with regards to my own life.

I do not know why, but it seems that outside my supposedly confident exterior, I had been feeling this strange emptiness in my life for the longest time.

There had been sparks of brightness, moments of warmth, and even flickering semblance of love that would emerge and disappear as quickly before I could even grasp them in my hands.

Sigh..

How many times had I done that I wonder.

Those memories of Cambridge primary seemed to always fill with joy and hope and never-ending companionship with my buddies then.

I could never forget the plump Henry whom would always stumble in between the badminton matches we have in the halls. The images of the shuttlecocks flying back and forth and there was even once, when the upper primary kids would barge into our courts and demanded that we ‘surrender’ our territory to them.

*Chuckles*

And I smashed my racket into one of the guy’s face when they tried to bully us into submission. All I remembered of the aftermath was that we actually headed into the toilet to ‘negotiate’, and ended up fighting in the toilet *laughs* as my good pal the head prefect actually came in to stop the fight when he had learned of the incident (and strangely I could not remember his name no matter how hard I tried). That had left me with a broken set of spectacles, torn uniform, and a slightly bloody nose, while those other guys had lesser injuries; we retained ‘control’ of our badminton court in the hall; and strange as it might sound, we actually felt a certain sense of meaningless pride there.

And there was this other time, when we were so engrossed in those Tamiya racing cars that we would forget ourselves. Always trying to outfit and outrace the other guy at the hobby shop on the scaled down racing track. I still remember that my two cars was called the ‘Egress’ and the ‘Avante’, really cool sounding names huh? And we would stay in the shop for so long, that by the time we remembered to go home, the sun would have already started to set; knowing that I would have to steel myself for either some caning or severe lambasting from my mum or dad for returning so late.

I wonder if the hobby shop just behind Golden Landmark hotel is still around.

Such fond memories…

And those joy, pride, and hope seemed harder and harder to reach with every passing year.

I must be getting old...