Simply drifting through the costumed crowd; attempting to soak in as much of the festive aura as possible. Pretty much the last Halloween around this neighbourhood; afterall. The simple act of removing the badge made a pretty convincing "costume": "I'm dressed as a PAP member!" (and isn't that the worst monster?) Just kidding, of course~
I didn't have the temerity to go trick-or-treating in that getup, of course. Didn't feel up to it; and going solo; I'd just have felt like an over-grown manchild. Company does make retarded stuff feel more appealing haha. All the deco was pretty good; many were so into it; then there were the "candy grubbers" who merely donned the obligatory witch's hat or devil horns and went door to door with their NTUC plasticbags loading up on sweets. I used to number among them a few years back; armed with a camera. "I'm dressed as a cameraman!"
Too old for Halloween, now; but not too old to want to ignore it completely. Feeling the need for people around me; yet wholly unable to blend in; merely wending my way through the crowd; bemused smile on my face; there, yet not there; really. Gazes landed on me, briefly; before sliding past; preoccucied with identifying the next sugar dispenser. "Nice costume, dude" a bunch of guys called after me; barely registering a response.
Am I here? Or am I not? And does it make a difference?
We all can't be strong; and even the strongest of us need some validation of our existence. That's just the way we roll.
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