I want to be so many things

These past few days I’ve been engrossed by Carl Sagan’s The Demon-Haunted World: Science as a Candle in the Dark. It’s made me want to be a scientist, and a little of an activist and politician.

Prior to that I was reading Haruki Murakami’s What I Talk About When I Talk About Running, a wonderful book given to me by fellow runner Lee Wei Hao (thanks!) by an author who wrote and ran. It made me want to be an artist; and one who ran like he did, religiously.

And at about the same time I was reading Po Bronson & Ashley Merryman’s book Nurture Shock: Why Everything We Think About Raising our Children is Wrong. It flamed the fires that burned within me for opening some sort of childhood education centre (something Lix had originally thought of), one that educated and entertained; and now, after reading The Demon-Haunted World, one that introduced children to science and curiosity, and the wonders of the world.

Sometimes I wonder what’d happen if I ever picked up Machivelli’s The Prince.

The Lost Pencil

Where’s my pencil?!
Someone stole my pencil
She screamed.

Cursed thieves, stealing
Her pencil, I thought
To myself.

Where is my
PENCIL she asked
Once more

But only
An empty silence

Around she went,
Searching for her lost

No one saw it, she
Sighed. And I signed
With her.

She said.


It’s no use crying over spilled milk

I don’t know why but this thought suddenly came to me: the next time a toddler or anyone who’s small and/or light enough for you to carry (preferably one you know) starts to cry, quickly go grab some milk and pour it on the floor; then grab that toddler/insanely light person up and carry him or her hovered over the milk that you “spilled”. And In the most sincere, loving way possible, tell that toddler/person, “there, there, honeybunch, it’s no use crying over spilled milk…”