Breeding Lucidity: Beauty of Uncertainty

I was going to start this post by saying how I really do dislike starting all of my almost bimonthly posts with the same song and dance about not having written anything here for a while. Well, I just did that, didn't I? Hmm. But then I googled "bimonthly" to double check that it meant once in two months and well, what do you know? It actually means both "once in two months" and "twice in a month". The same ambiguity goes for biweekly and biyearly as well. On that positive trivia-esque note, I inaugurate this bimonthly post!

My obsession with uncertainty is only paralleled by uncertainty's obsession with me. Somehow the state of flux and I have become such inseparable pals that we have begun to enjoy each other's company. Maybe it helps that I am the kind that remains hopelessly hopeful even when the situation could, even in the most hopeful case, be only termed as hopeless. Or maybe it could just be our mutual love for long-winded sentences!

There is beauty in change. Change presents a slight expansion of our canvas and with that comes those tiny unoccupied, untouched bits that can be coloured and done in any way we want. It could come across as a very romantic notion of life. But I've realised that I find it really hard to let go of it. Somehow things make better and of course, more palatable, sense when I can see that eternal silver lining. Well, I do make the change sound more depressing with this seemingly forced sense of optimism, don't I? All I can say to that is that the optimism is incredibly genuine.

Richard Ashcroft (lyrics; A Song for the Lovers) equated falling in love to taking a train to a foreign land without a ticket for the ride. I think that restricting it to just falling in love is a shame!