Flew over the great lakes crossing the Canadian/US border and thought of home.
The problem with living in a small country like Singapore is that everything tends to be concentrated into this high density spot one degree north of the equator.
Its’ like a photographer’s lens zooming into a tiny subject. Nothing wrong with that except you miss the whole big picture.
There’s just too much noise around. All sorts of sounds pounding, resonating, echoing, amplifying, mixing – all trapped in a jar with only a small vent somewhere in the somewhat vague surface. It’s even hard to hear your own thoughts.
People are being driven by events, both domestic and international. Even if you avoid the newspapers, TV and net, someone’s bound to talk about what’s happening around whether it involves you or not.
So into our caves we go. Urban caves in all shapes and sizes, in dwellings and smartphones. Places of placidity, of solitude and calm. Shut out from the rest of the world, in our own worlds.
There’s no turning back. The city has grown bigger and continues to grow till it reaches land’s end removing whatever rural that’s left in the country. So what is a country without countryside left?
Do we just leave, do we withdraw within or do we continue to be part of the Brownian motion till we burn out completely?