Of death and life and fate

I said hi to the old, frail, yet neat, shy and kind looking uncle on Saturday. On Tuesday, I heard he was gone. Life's swiftness takes my breathe away. I ache for the fragility of life and yet marvel at its' gifts to us. The living will mourn and continue their journey till the end claims them as well.

I am slowly coming to terms that I will be 30 next year as my 29th birthday approaches. (A Quarter of the year is almost over!) I would hate to look back at one-third(?) of my life and realise that there is nothing to show for. What inferiority complex! I would chide myself. My consolation is that it may be the impetus to strive for more rather than a self-defeating prophecy to adopt a heck care attitude.

At rare occasions, I fear death. Where do we go? What do we feel? Is it really nothingness? Like sleeping except you never get to wake up? Curiosity kills the cat and I push such thoughts away till I feel optimistic again.

Yet at many occasions, I appreciate death. It brings a closure to long-suffering illnesses, a road block for the living to stop awhile and then move on. For sudden death, the living seek answers that no one can give. Closure may come awhile later nevertheless. Maybe the living can blame it on fate.

Fate. I place my faith too much into it till it accounts for my laxness. Like my thoughts of Mr. Right falling from the sky into my arms! Maybe I should start to think that fate is like a clue you pick up along the route you have chosen, the clue leads you to somewhere pretty vague and it's just up to you to choose your next clue. Fate lies in your own hands. Your hands. Your choice.

Guess it's time to realise that it doesn't rain men. Hmm, not anymore.