Good driving music is good music.

Good driving music makes you want to keep driving because you don’t want the song to end without really ending.

But I wasn’t listening to anything when I was driving home from work the other day. I don’t even remember the conversation I had with my sister in the car. We probably talked about what we had for lunch or Juno or Be Kind Rewind. I don’t usually take the direct road to get to my house, I’d skip my road and take an alternative route that follows a big curve. Every time I drive along the curve my mind would picture something really sinister. A middle-aged jogger with multiple sweatbands, a kid on a bike or someone’s ugly toy dog running towards me, at my blind spot. I always anticipate to anticipate something totally imaginary right there.

I followed the bend and as usual, there was no middle-aged jogger, kid on a bike or scraggly dog. But by the road I saw a man squatting, hugging his daughter. He had his back to the road and her little head peeked over his shoulders.

I slowed down and they were still holding each other.
I passed them and they were still holding each other.
In my rearview mirror they were still holding each other.
As a blur blob in the horizon there were still holding each other.

Maybe a car before me almost hit her. Maybe he saved her. Maybe he was leaving and she did not want to let him go. Maybe it was someone’s birthday. Minus all the drama, maybe they just like hugging a lot.

It felt a lot like flipping through a book and reading a random sentence from it. Out of context, like real life. Sometimes.

I suppose that is how being still is… to be embraced and protected just because.

I’ve been on a hiatus, I know.

Too many things on my plate, really. Too many mouths to feed.

A little tired, yes.

And contributing to this tiredness would also be my putting off of coffee, tea and any chocolate drink. Those black and brown (and sometimes green) liquids of hope had to stop filling my cup. At least for three weeks. A few more days left for the putting off to end and when the putting on begins.

I’m not counting, but fasting really makes one more aware of one’s lack… perhaps a more heightened awareness of one’s cravings. Maybe it’s called withdrawal, but I like to think of it as an education of one’s daily necessities. What I will die without versus what I will live without.

Besides work and needs, I was in Singapore for a little distraction.

It rained as much as Seattle.

Being lost while commuting on the MTR and bus made hell in my stomach that sounded like a waterfall of gastric juices. It took me ransom for food, or else I would be treating stomach ulcers. The signs said no eating and drinking allowed. A wee step closer to a breathing ban.

Múm was a saving grace though. They made music about berries, marmalade and a horse to bless everything that grows. The kind of imagery Iceland conjures.

(I shouldn’t have dropped my melodion classes at six.)

Happy Good Friday and Easter. Although personally, I like thinking about the day in between.

I hope you like the new header.