Quite a number of people have asked me whether travelling is what I do for a living, or is it the only thing I get up to.
Well, the answer is no.
Looking back, I realised how my birthdays are usually very quiet and close to being a non-existential affair. […]
Every time I return home (as in, where I was born and raised), a truckload of people say that I am not just lucky, but privileged, and more often than not, there is one person who would conveniently pass me a remark that I am ‘one of those people’ who are living it up overseas while people back home are only capable of making ends meet.
Before someone else repeats that statement, this is what I have to say:
It taught me to hang on less tightly to my attachments.
The feeling of being attached is a funny thing, really –
I’ll admit, I was this (read: very) close to ending the 2nd of December completely forgetting that it’s my father’s birthday.
At the busiest and possibly most frazzled time of my life, I spared a moment to write a few paragraphs for the
displeasure of my future self to read, thinking that perhaps in a less overwhelmed state of mind, I am able to look back and fully appreciate the course of events that took up all of my time this year.
Half a year later, today, when I have finally reached a stage where life seems to be slowing down again, I found the luxury of time to revisit this draft and this is what I told myself:
It took myself ten years of writing online before I finally made the decision to fully, truly take my moniker Cheesetal on to a more purposeful direction.