Gloomy thoughts on mortality dragged me out of my shell and into the real world, which laughed, shook its head and sometimes cheered my attempts in seizing those swiftly-moving days. Even before the latest round of bad news, the passing of several personalities had already given "Project Get-A-Life" an added sense of urgency.
I hated the fact that one day, I won't be able to see, hear, smell or taste all the things that I've come - and will come - to love and enjoy so much: blue skies, turquoise oceans, colourful works of art and pretty faces; flowers, spices, and the scent from the nape of my partner's neck; new and old favourite songs and familiar voices.
There are other new things that I'm sure I'll miss someday.
Yvonne waving at me with a smile on her face after picking me out of a crowd (with only one good eye).
Irene's throaty laugh when she hears a good joke, or when the joke's on me.
FunnyBunny getting all animated as she recounts her latest (mis)adventures.
Wildguy's sardonic observations of things around him and the wild, wild ideas that sprout like weeds from his criminal mind.
Mom's cooking and Dad's dry curry.
All of that, and more, will come to an end. And I'm taking in as much as I can before my time comes. We don't need to wait till we're down with a terminal illness, or when someone's put a contract out on us.
If you see me a little too often at a particular event, a food joint or venue, or find me gatecrashing one party too many, hold your snide remarks about me being some fixture or unwelcome guest. I'm there for the experience, and for you guys as well. Because our lifetimes are much shorter - and more precious - than we think they are.
Yet some people still hang on to the past, flog dead horses or obsess over race or religion. Do they think they'll live forever? Or have they merely lost their way?
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