Pretty uneventful; except that over the past few days; we've been having these property agents come over to give our house a once over in preparation for sales. We'll only be shifting somewhere around Dec though. Amidst all the discussion of what to bring over; how to arrange the furniture etc; one thing I've had to face is the realization that I'm extremely resistant to change. Find myself being kinda grumpy about the whole thing; unable to get excited about it; and tending to point out the negatives. I'll miss the coconut tree out back; the wind rustling through its leaves as I sit in my little corner of the living room just beside the window; pondering over this or that. And the mini-bamboo forest in front; quite majestic in its height. As I walked home today; I still found myself unable to get over just how beautiful I find the neighbourhood; though there aren't any "lights dancing over the treetops like a candle flame"; it still paints a picturesque evening scenery; walking down that avenue of trees silhouetted against the sky, a little longkang happily bubbling its course.
And I don't want to lose it all; is what I'm trying to say; to be relocated to a foreign neighbourhood; a house without the unique "soul" that makes home what it is: the scuff marks on the parquet floor left after Beyblading in years long past, that conspicuously missing toilet glass door which shattered in an ill-considered moment; gracing me with a scar on my wrist. But what's past is past, and perhaps that's where such experiences belong; to be consigned to the depths of memory; coated with that glossy veneer finish and looked upon fondly. New experiences await; new memories to be made; and maybe that's not so bad after all.
But it's still alright to be sentimental about all of it, right? :)
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