It's the Seventh month of the Chinese lunar calender now, and the burning of joss papers had been ongoing for a while already. Since young, I could never get used to the smoke that irritates my nose incessantly and those unsightly piles of burnt paper ashes that clogs up the drainage covers and sometimes get carried by the wind up to my flat. I had always hoped that when the present older generation has passed on, this silly and very irritating custom, along with other nonsensical acts by the elderly like jostling to board and disembark from transport, queue-cutting, general uncivilised habits etc, will disappear too.
The newspapers and Gerald reported the general chaos that resulted from the masses trying to view the firework displays going on these days. If the festival was designed to attract people to view it, then isn't it the organiser's fault if chaos emerged and traffic comes to a halt because they didn't plan for the turnout? Don't think it's worth my time to see it myself, transient beauty such as fireworks always leaves me unsatisfied in a way. It gives people a 'wow' moment, but it's not the type of beauty that touches people and leave indelible marks on the memory after that.
Yesterday on the bus back from Mel's place, I had a sudden recall of a triumphant feeling, that I had conquered or won over something in the day. The events of the day were nondescript, but that fantastic feeling must be associated to one of them. And then, the revelation: That euphoric moment came from my full effort poured into cycling back from school. My average speed is still average at best compared to more regular cyclists, but I sure couldn't go much faster than I did then, and it felt really good to give your best in a sporting moment and experience the 'high' afterwards.
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