I haven’t been in the mood to write… well, actually I have, but so often at times I wished that I had made an anonymous blog instead so that I can write whatever I want about whatever I feel concerning so many personal issues instead of having it known that this is written by… a Christian, a doctor… a pastor’s daughter. Sometimes I just want to burst forth with all the frustrations without having to care less what image I’d give out! Then the senses start knocking in and the urge to write and rattle everything dies. Then I’m left with nothing to write. WELL, actually I do. A lot of things happened in the past few weeks that are worth writing about, yes, even some good things. But I couldn’t show that all is well by posting up good things. Things could have been better, that’s for sure. WAY better. A lot of ideas didn’t go through as planned. Sigh. But what can I do? I’m stuck in this crippling position and left to survive. See, don’t you just wished that you’re reading this without the pre-conceived idea that this was written by somebody who’s in church now? Shocking isn’t it? Pastor’s kids should write happy jolly goody stuff. Not about dark experiences, hurts and horridly saddening bits.
Right now. I don’t quite care.
Another piece of news to note. A houseman from Seremban Hospital died in a car accident. Post-call. Probably out of fatigue, fell asleep at the wheel, crashed behind a lorry transporting chickens. Died on the spot. That could well be me. Knowing my not-so-great driving skills, the inevitable post-call hours, the much needed drive back home… the possibility of that doctor being me is high, I’d think. Oh well…
Zero four zero four zero eight are significant numbers. Remember it.