Lately I’ve been dreaming of faraway places and old friends.

I’m overwhelmed by a restlessness… a kind of delicious fever that has me distracted, unable to concentrate on the moment, even impatient and short-tempered.

I wish to let everything fall behind me, take off again and simply wander, like I used to, four years ago now when I started this blog.

I feel a yearning… To see familiar faces again. To feel enveloped in the love and generosity of old friends and family who aren’t here around me and with whom I spend too little time.  To dive in and explore the limits of my own imagination; the depths of my emotions; the beauty of the world around me, including in Singapore. To live a life full of wonder and without consequence, other than the enrichment of my own experience and knowledge, and the happiness and good cheer of the friends and family around me.

That, I think, is the meaning I want to make out of my life.

In the meantime, I’m seized by a kind of voluptuous anxiety. The kind one feels keenly when summer comes around, and one sits luxuriating in the sun, revelling in the warmth on one’s face, and feeling acutely that there’s absolutely nothing else one can or should possibly do but sit in the sun, feeling the immensity of the world and its beauty around one. The kind of feeling that makes you want to cast everything aside and just dash out already, for god’s sakes, into the light because that’s the most obvious thing to do.

It’s a strange, indescribable kind of feeling, but so palpable, affecting me in a way that I cannot possibly ignore.

I must make a choice.

It is not going to be easy.