tripping

A new year should begin with new resolutions.

My girlfriend asked if i had any wishes on my birthday and i said no, i had none. Maybe i had some, secretly deep down inside, i couldn’t say. If we wish for something, we still have to work towards it in order to make it happen. It’s not as if wishes will come true through the act of wishing.

Maybe it gives you that 1%, then the rest of the 99% you have to work for it.

But then if you have to work for it anyway? And when you wish, you know that some things are obtainable and some things are not, so you end up wishing for things that are possible to obtain because you know that other things will just remain wishes? So people will end up wishing for practical things that they have to work for to obtain, nothing is really free in this world, so why do we bother wishing. If you know what you want, just work for it instead of wishing.

But maybe it’s the extra 1% that gets you started.

Maybe i should have some wishes.

Gets me thinking about memories. Back in the Malaysia home I’m thinking about my stash of memories. I wonder if I’ll be able to go back and pull out those folders of RFNA in black and grey. My stash of memories. My disappointments and my hopes, and memories of things past and things gone. The hours and minutes of our lives, writ in black and grey. Some things you write down, and they’re never forgotten, living somewhere in a pile of unread script.

Leads me to think of my father. Have i lost him? Remembering the way i shouted at him once, six hours of travelling just to earn a fucking 6 dollars an hour. Maybe that pushed him to buy this jurong house. Maybe. I wish i treated him better. When was the l time i saw him? The tired look on his face. The longing for warmth maybe. My father, lost out of touch with even his own children. i love him, but in a way that i don’t know how to approach. I wonder how he is now, living back in the Malaysia house. Is he lonely? Is he angry? Is he sad? But to keep him company ..

Perhaps there are some things you can never change. My mother may hate him, but how can i? As a son, i am torn between parents. But i think i know how my father feels. The look in his eyes when he comes to visit, his family, his house in Singapore, yet he has the eyes of a man in the house of a stranger. How i wish one day he would stay here, stay under this roof, less complaints, no quarrels. My parents.

Some things you can never change. The days and hours of our lives, and most of all the family you can never replace, no matter what wrongs they do you, no matter what happens. I need to go back to Malaysia soon, to fulfil my duties, to be the son that my father wants to see.

Perhaps growing older has made me reflect, a new year with no resolutions, but that things go on smoothly, and that i will work to make things happen. Perhaps that’s my wish and resolution. I get caught up in work, oh how much work i have waiting i can’t believe.. But i find, i cannot forget my family, and my memories are left in a different land.

Memories are as good as how you keep them. Parents are as good as the children see them.

Disappointments. Im feeling pensive, and the wave of memory washes over me like old suds. Where are my roots.