Run Baby Run

I was born in 1978, the year punk broke...grew up in an estate called Brickworks. I enjoyed my childhood so much, sometimes how I wish I could re-live that memory. As I grew older I realised it is not possible at all, sometimes I do teleport myself there but only through my mind.

I love to run, so when I was 8 years old, I represented my class in 100m sprint, well...I got in second, probably my legs were too short. The boy who had legs looking bamboo sticks won the race. The plastic trophy became a prize possesion for a while. Drawing was my other love, I was caught frequently from doodling nonsense in my textbooks.

During my adolescence, I got fascinated with the activities of bad company. We established a meeting place which was called 'Under The Bridge' (RHCP was the rave back then), I picked up smoking and spraying vulgarities on to the walls of that hippest place. It was a canal...

Now, reaching the third decade, I still think I have that 'child' in me (I'm not pregnant), in my heart probably, at times I do break into this spasm of animated rejoice. Then things will go back to normal again. I always thought at this age, I would probably be somewhere in the Central Business District walking in my crisp shirt and sleek tie with a briefcase. Not sure, a businessman or sort.

Where did I get that image? Probably from current affairs programme on TV or some vision created by teachers or parents. Of course, a female companion and a pet would have been ideal. No matter how much we envisage our life to be the way we wanted it to be, along the way, there is always some kind of hurdle. We would fall and trip, then we get up, we get injured and raptured, we still carry on not sure why.

Let's run again today...