It has been a very tiring period for me. I have been juggling with so many aspects of Project Cumulus such that the nights were becoming shorter, and I was heading to bed later and later. The days passed quickly like the moment of daybreak before sunrise; you see the colours of dawn, but for that brief moment, before the rays of the sun obliterated them all. It was just only August, and now it's already the seventh day of September. Time flies.
After clearing some backlog, I decided to put the prints that I decided (with inputs from the team), into the Ribba frames. With the powerful vocals of A-Lin rising into crescendo in the background, I adjusted the frames, while the curious kitties gathered around, as if they were getting ready for a ritual of sorts.
Then again, perhaps this was part of a large ritual, and a grand scheme of sorts. As what I shared with H in the car today, no matter how capable I could possibly be, I would never be able to do this alone. If I were a commander or a general in a forgotten era of an ancient Chinese dynasty, I would never be able to face the hordes of enemies without the support and loyalty of my capable lieutenants. And of course, they are all skilled in their own martial arts, and their weaponry abilities. In fact, I joked to H that he would probably be skilled in using metallic fans with razor-sharp blades.
And with jokes and worries juxtaposed into a blend of what I call hope, even as I sit here typing into the later hours of the night, I have A-Lin's singing to keep me company, and as Tigger lay asleep beside me, I look forward to what is to come. Aptly captured by one of the products, "Life's Promise". Indeed.
My name is Willie, and I like to muse about things. Things related to me are Wellaholic.