Run mad as often as you like, but do not faint

I am now sitting at the end of a day I thought would never come. And along with this day, many things have passed and are now gone forever. For every momentuous event I have lived over the last few weeks, I have tried to fit my reflections into incisive essays becoming of a bright young leader, but my stunning failure subverts this fate bestowed upon me by my nation. I couldn't, for instance, pin down my exact feelings when I sat with the Foundational stream students during the release of their PSLE results. I couldn't find the words to describe the view from the bottom dweller's collar, I couldn't decide if the difference between that and what I was, am, accustomed to was real.

I was not allowed, too, to document my forced metamorphosis from student to adult. I felt no feeling strong and clear enough for my pen to pick up. And when my dear cousin was finally married off, fixing the final chapter of a tulmultous romance in her life and foreshadowing adulthood for the rest of us Sisters, my words found themselves restricted to praise of the bride's clothings and the good wine.

I began this wanting to write about love and family and my frustrating lack of ambition, but this plague of wordlessness refuses to leave me.